#i need the step 2 angst so bad it's not even funny. i need it and i need it right now

[disaster-magician]

Looks like you found one of those golden retriever girls! Good luck with that, Tamarack

(Fake screenshots! These are fan made based on incorrect quotes and not in the game)

[citruswriter]

Hi, I was wondering if you could do a Comfort fic of THe Hazbin Crew (Charlie, Vaggie, Alastor, Angel Dust, Husk, Lucifer, etc.) x Reader, where they're not having the best, probably the worst day actually, and they get some comfort and hugs from reader, the feel goods~?

Hazbin Hotel x Reader Having a Bad Day

Listen with me! ↠ⁿᵉˣᵗ ˢᵒⁿᵍ ↺ ʳᵉᵖᵉᵃᵗ ⊜ ᵖᵃᵘˢᵉ

Warnings: Fluff, comfort, angst?, kinda open ended.

A/N: I'm assuming you didn't have the best day? :(( If so then I'm so sorry love and I hope you enjoy this. Lemme know if you want a pt 2 with the angels and Vees!

It was a horrible day. More horrible than any of the other horrible days you've ever had. And that's saying something. So after a long day, you had returned to your humble abode to cry it out. On the way, you caught the eye of a certain someone...

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Lucifer x Reader 🧡

A knock was heard at your door and you groaned. "Go away Charlie!" You shouted out as you heard the door crack open. "Um... actually it's me, but I can still go if you want me too". Mumbled a voice. You immediately sat up and turned around. "Sir! I'm so sorry". You sniffed. Lucifer studied your face, gaze softened as he stepped closer. "Dear what happened?" He asked, hands hesitantly reaching up to touch your face. Your eyes widened at the question, lip trembling once more as you sobbed out. "It was a horrible day! Like, I know it's hell but fuck! It was just so bad." You wailed. Lucifer jumped up on the bed beside you, reaching out to you and drawing you in his arms to give you a tight hug.

You hugged him tightly, burying your face in his shoulder and crying out everything. He just sat there, thumb rubbing circles between your shoulder blades. Eventually your sobs quieted down, and you pulled back slightly, sniffling and hiccuping. "Sorry, Sir..." You said and Lucifer just smiled at you. "No need to apologize. And please, call me Lucifer. Come. Let's get you cleaned up". He gently took your hand and drug you to the bathroom, wetting a washcloth as you sat down. He took the cloth to your face, wiping your bleary eyes and wet cheeks. "Thank you... I-I, um, I didn't expect the King of Hell to be washing my tears away". You said, offering a pathetic laugh. He just clicked his tongue and waved a hand. "Think nothing of it, my dear! A friend of Charlie's is a friend of mine!" He said with a grin.

You looked down bashfully, smiling shyly but he grabbed your jaw and tilted your head to continue cleaning you. You felt your face flush at the action. He laughed softly, seeming to pick up on your flusteredness. "You know... If you're feeling up for it," he began, eyes looking around the room, "I've been told I make excellent pancakes". You giggle softly in response, causing the man to give his own shy smile. "I think I'd really like that... Lucifer."

Eyes met, gazes held, tension rose. You could stay like this...

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Alastor x Reader 🧡

You threw yourself onto your bed, sobbing into your pillow. "You know, a frown doesn't suit your pretty face". Said a voice. You screamed and almost fell off your bed as you whipped around to stare at Alastor. The red demon just chuckled at you, smile grinning a little wider. "Haha. Not fucking funny Al". You glared, propping yourself up on an elbow. "But it got you to stop crying". He pointed out and you scoffed, even though you knew he was right.

"What even happened, my dear?" He asked, hands resting on his cane, his gaze softening ever so slightly. A detail one wouldn't notice unless they were looking for it. You sighed and rolled onto your back. "Just a stressful day is all." You said softly, rubbing your wet eyes. The man hummed softly, seeming to think before turning to you more. "You know, it's almost time for my radio show. Would you like to join me?" He asked and you looked over at him, eyes wide with surprise. "Oh... Sure, that would be nice actually". You replied gently and he outstretched a hand to you to help you raise from the bed.

You trailed behind him like a lost puppy as he led you to his office. You entered as quietly as you could, standing as you watched him start to set up. "Where should I sit?" You asked softly and Alastor blinked, seeming to remember that his shack really was only built for him. But with a snap of his fingers, his shadows conjured up a plush red couch and you happily sat down on the comfortable little couch. You continued to watch him as he flipped switches and turned knobs. "Stay quiet for me while I broadcast, ok fawn?" He said and you just nodded.

A few hours later Alastor finished. He stood up and stretched. Looking over at you, he saw your sleeping figure. He didn't wish to rouse you so he simply took his coat and draped it over you. You hummed in your sleep, curling up into the fabric. Alastor couldn't help but feel warmed by the unconscious action.

What a peculiar little creature you were.

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Charlie x Reader 🧡

A knock came at your door. "(Y/N)? Hey you good in there?" Charlie's worried voice came. You didn't answer, only sobbed into your pillow. Gentle hands came to rub your back and you sniffed, lifting your head to look at the hellborn. You didn't even hear her open your door. "Hey. Talk to me, what happened?" He cooed, a hand reaching up to cradle your face, thumb swiping to wipe away some tears. You whimpered and leaned into your touch. "It was just a bad day, Charlie. That's all".

She smiled gently, seeming to understand. "Well scoot over! Your bed looks comfy!" She chirped and you couldn't help but giggle, rolling over to make room for her. She flopped onto your bed and sighed. "Wow. Your blankets are super comfy." She said, flashing her beautiful smile your way. You softly smiled and shrugged. "They were on sale when I got em". You said simply.

She rolled to look at you. "Hi". She said softly and you felt your face heat up. "Hey". You murmured back. Her hands came up to cradle your fave once more. "You better now?" She asked softly, her heart seeming to flutter as she watched you bite your lip and meet her eyes. "It's hard to stay sad around Miss Rainbows and Sunshine". You said, tone teasing. She giggled, her own cheeks heating up. "You flatter me". She giggled, making you smile.

Charlie looked at you curiously. What was she feeling right now? It couldn't be what she thought it was. Was it...?

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Vaggie x Reader 🧡

"Alright. Who am I killing?" A voice came, cutting through your whirling thoughts. "Everybody!" You wailed as you rolled over, hugging your pillow. Vaggie gave an empathetic smile before sitting on the edge of the bed. "Just one of those days?" She asked and you nodded. She sighed and scooted up a bit more. "I'm not as great as this as Charlie is, but do you need a hug?" She asked. You sniffed and looked up at her, nodding softly.

You crawled over to her and she gave you a tight hug, fingers moving up to your hair to scratch at your scalp for a few moments. "Is that better?" She murmured. "Yeah. Thanks". You replied, wiping your face. "Uh, here". She grabbed a tissue from your bedside and began wiping your face and eyes awkwardly. "Sorry. This usually isn't my thing". She admitted with a chuckle. You giggled and grabbed her spare hand, holding it in hers. "That's ok, Vaggie. I appreciate you trying". You said.

Vaggie felt her cheeks flush and she smiled bashfully, gently pulling her hand to her heart. "Ah, look at you. Comforting me. I'm supposed to be comforting you right now." She said and you laughed softly, resting your head on her shoulder.

You gazed at her softly and she felt her heart flutter. What were you doing to her? What was she feeling?

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Angel Dust x Reader 🧡

"Aye toots. Ya good? You ran by me without giving me a hello kiss". He said, tone light and playful. You looked up to glare at him. "Fuck off, Angel". You scowled and his whole facial expression immediately changed. "Oh shit. You ok, sugar?" He asked, rushing to your side. You sobbed out and shook your head. Angel wrapped you up in his arms, holding you tightly and whispering sweet things to you. Eventually you calmed down, hiccups leaving your mouth as you pulled back to wipe your face.

"Come on. Let's clean you up." Angel led you to your vanity, sitting you down and brushing your hair back. He took a face wipe and wiped you down. Two of his hands went to play with your hair while his other two hands went to grab some lotion to moisturize your cheeks. "There. All better." He cooed, standing up before tilting your head up to kiss your forehead. You hummed and closed your eyes before gently resting your chin on his stomach, eyes fluttering open to gaze up at him.

Angel felt his face heat up as he gently cradled your face. "Seriously though, who am I shootin?" He said and you laughed. "Nobody Angie. It's just been a bad day". You muttered. Your hands reached up to hold his other two hands.

He was so warm. So gentle. This was nice.

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Husk x Reader 🧡

A knock echoed through your room and you sniffed. "Fuck off, Charlie!" You shouted and you heard a scoff. "I definitely ain't no Charlie. But if you want her, I can go grab her". A voice came. You groaned and sat up to glare at the cat demon now in your room. "What do you want Husk?" You hissed out. You really didn't need his ass judging you right now. But to your surprise, he just pulled out two glasses and a bottle of some sort of alcohol. "Heard you crying. I'm not good with emotions but I am good at listening". He said with a shrug.

The next hour was filled with you just venting to him about your shitty day. Sometimes he would fill either yours or his glass and before long you had calmed down, although you were also tipsy now. "I know it's hell but shit." You muttered and Husk gave a chuckle. "Ah you'll be ok. You're stronger than you think you are." He said with a smile.

You looked up at him and laughed softly. "Thanks Husk. You always know what to say. I think you're better with emotions than you think". You chuckled softly. Husk felt his cheeks heat up under his fur and his chest tighten, but not in a bad way.

Well aren't you something?

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Amunet x Reader 🧡

A/N: Why yes. Yes I am inserting my own OC with a background character face claim. Fight me.

"(Y/N)? Hey, you ok?" A soft voice came. You heard your door crack open. "Can I come in?" You pondered her request for a moment before sighing and rolling over. "Yeah, I guess so". You replied. Amunet opened the door and upon seeing your crying face, her gaze instantly softened. "What happened?" She asked softly, approaching the bed. You sat up, sitting close to the edge. "It was just a shitty day. Just a bunch of things added up". You explained. She got up on the bed with you. "Oh habibi". She cooed softly, drawing you into her warm embrace.

"Cry as much as you need, ruhee. I'm here. I've got you". You couldn't help but let the flood gates open as you ugly cried into her shoulder. One of her hands patted your back while the other held firm to your hip. Eventually you calmed down, face nuzzling into her shoulder as you hiccuped. "Are you better, habibi?" She asked gently, pulling you back to look at your face. "Oh dear, look at you."

She left before you could reply to her question. A few minutes passed and she came back with a wash cloth and a cup of water. "Hydrate. You cried a lot". She said, handing you the glass before hurrying off to your bathroom to wet the rag. "Thank you, Amunet". You croaked but she waved her hand, sitting back down to wipe your face. "Think nothing of it, albee". She soothed.

She smiled under her mask as you closed your eyes in content. You nuzzled into her wrist as she wiped at your tear stained cheeks, causing a blush to rise to her cheeks. Weren't you just such a cutie?

This took me all day to write bc my coworker and I kept talking shit all day. Lmfao. But enjoy.

[captain039]

Part 4 Heal your hurt

Viktor x reader

Warnings: Hurt/comfort, angst, health issues, mental health issues, light swearing, chubby reader, intimacy, sexual, friends to lovers, reader has chronic pain

Previous part <-

It’s been days since you’ve seen Viktor. It’s normal for him to go off for days without returning, but this time it feels targeted. Your last interaction was a whirlwind and you figure he needs some space to process what happened, hell you still need to process what happened. His voice was sharp and firm, unlike his usual self. You bush yourself with your book, your MCs have finally confessed and shared a steamy night which left you giggling to yourself till you imagined it was you and Viktor and then you contemplated. When Viktor does stumble home it’s 2 at night. You weren’t asleep, your hips aching from sitting all day. You were awkwardly lying on your stomach with three pillows under your hips which somehow helped a bit. You just hoped he’d not look in and see you in this awkward position. You weren’t able to close your curtains so the moonlight was shining in. You hear him shuffle, sigh, and place things down before he shuffles some more then stops.

“Are- are you awake?” Viktor's uncertain voice comes from your doorway.

“I uh- maybe” you say turning your head so you’re facing him. Your bed is in a position so you can see out the door on your side.

“Is there a reason for such a position?” He asks head tilting a bit.

“Relief?” You say before realising that this looks stupid and suspicious.

“Not like that!- my hips are hurting and if I put pressure on my knees they hurt too so I thought I’d shove pillows under my hips to elevate them and not hurt my knees” you babble in explanation cheeks hot, you’re thankful for your dimly lit room.

“I see” he says simply and you sigh not wanting to move because even if it looks funny it’s not hurting.

“Are you ok?” You ask and he nods.

“A new project?” You add.

“Something like that” he shrugs a bit and you frown a bit as he looks to the floor instead. You nod and he shifts his weight.

“Goodnight,” he says and heads off.

“Viktor-“ you call and move slowly.

“Yes?” He answers stopping.

“Did- did you wanna talk?” You ask sheepishly sitting a little stiffly. He hesitated and you think he’s going to brush you off.

“Can I come in?” He asks and you nod a little too quickly. He walks in and sits down beside you resting his cane beside him. You switch your lamp on wincing at the pain throbbing.

“A bad day?” He asks noticing and you sigh and nod.

“You know when I was growing up, I was always open about my pain, sharing it with my mum because I didn’t know what was going on, always crying in agony leaning on her for help. She let me, she helped me every step of the way and then she got sick when I was 18 and I just bottled it all up. My father became a drunk and I had to do everything around the house and suffer in silence, if I showed any weakness in front of him I knew something would happen. Then my mother passed away and I shut everything down. I forced myself to think that none of this pain was real, made myself work and live alone even if I’d sometimes collapse from exhaustion” you open up to him staring at the floor as memory’s wash over of painful, sleepless nights.

“It’s worse at night,” he says softly and you look at him.

“There’s a throb of pain from my ankle to knee to hip that goes up my spine” You feel your heart break at his words.

“It isn’t a one-off throb, it’s constant, like a heartbeat pulsing” he adds.

“It stiffens my joints and muscles makes them cramp and tense” Your hand twitches to hold his, but you don’t want to scare him.

“Mine is focused, thankfully. Yours is everywhere? Not just your legs and hips?” He asks and you nod.

“My shoulders, neck, arms, chest, ribs” you list sagging a bit to relieve some of the pain in your hips.

“A screw over of creation” you mutter insulting yourself.

“You are not, a ‘screw over of creation’” Viktor says frowning.

“You are beautiful, perfectly imperfect” You look at him noticing his eyes on you intensely and you feel a swell of emotion. You take a small breath and look away embarrassed.

“Were you away a few days because of what happened between us?” You whisper, you know it’s silly thinking but it still lingers.

“I- yes” he sighs and it stings but you nod.

“I don’t know what came over me” he mutters leaning against his cane.

“You were bossy” you try to joke lightly.

“I was” he smiles softly.

“Feelings, are complex, a puzzle I cannot solve with the equation constantly changing every second, there is no answer for emotions and feelings” his words make you frown lightly in thought.

“That’s what makes us human,” you say shrugging a bit.

“I learnt to control my emotions very young, when they spiral so do my thoughts and I cannot have a jumble of thoughts as an inventor” You understand what he’s saying, sort of, you get where his point of view is coming from.

“You cannot have emotions when inventing otherwise you mess up” he adds and for some reason, it leaves a hole in your heart, a string breaking.

“But you- you bring these feelings forwards, emotions I cannot understand, but it doesn’t… make me spiral in a way I don’t enjoy” his admission makes you tense on the spot and you hold your breath thinking this is some sort of dream.

“When we were young, you never shied away from me or my strange inventions, you were always intrigued you never left me alone” he smiles faintly and you do too. It was true, you hardly let him be by himself whenever you were out.

“I was found by the academy and moved through training to be an assistant. I always wondered if I’d see you again” he says softly.

“The first time I did I didn’t believe it, I was heading home very late and I saw you, exhausted in a dirty white shirt and black pants covered in flour” You frown lightly. He saw you coming home from work?

“I thought I was going mad seeing you, but then I saw you again, and again, same time leaving the bakery” he explains.

“I never saw you,” you say confused.

“I didn’t want you to see me” he says and you frown.

“What- why?” You say baffled.

“You were so beautiful” he whispers and you feel your heart skip a beat.

“Sweaty, covered in flour and dirt?” You ask.

“Raw, unrefined, perfectly imperfect” he mutters.

“I saw your advertisement for a shared apartment and for selfish reasons I took it down and contacted you about it” You remember that day. Getting a letter signed with the letter V when you saw him at the apartment you were shocked. You figured V stood for Victoria or something like that, his hand writing was so neat.

“I watched you over the years, you’d become your own woman and I my own man, I watched the way you pushed yourself when you were working, finding you passed out on the couch, still in dirty work clothes” You remember the day Viktor had talked to you about your job, saying he could afford it if you quit, you’d never been so relieved in your life but you swore to work for rent another way. So you worked out a system you’ve stuck by. You wondered what he was getting at thought with all this reminiscing.

“I started- to fall,” he says and you frown, fall? Fall in work? Life?

“Fall?” You say confused.

“In love” he says and you freeze processing.

“In love” you repeat and he nods.

“With- me?” You add.

“Yes with you” he confirms and you blink a few times.

“You fell in love with me?” You repeat.

“I did,” he says.

“You did? You’re not anymore?” You frown and you hear him sigh annoyed, a hand goes to your face and forces you to look at him before his lips are pressed against yours. You’re shell-shocked before you kiss back hand lifting to grip his vest.

“I sometimes forget you’re a little oblivious to things” he mutters against your lips you go to argue back but he silences you with his lips again. His thumb strokes against your cheek and you’re the one to pull back to breathe. His hand falls and you pant softly as you process the kiss.

“I’m not oblivious” you finally manage and you hear him laugh softly. It’s one of the rare times you’ve seen him laugh.

Next part ->

[losver07]

part 2 to this

drama, kinda(?) harsh vocab, a bit of angst and mentions of su!c!de but not in a serious (lol sirius) way, mainly just drama

Smells Like Warm

“Moony, have a minute?”

Oh God, Remus thinks, sucking in a deep breath as he puts on the biggest, fakest smile that's ever touched his face. This is the end.

“Sure.”

“In potions class,” Sirius begins, choosing every word with great caution, “you said something.”

“Yes,” Remus answers. It's too late to lie. And, even if he could lie, why would he? They've been together for over a year now, it's not his fault that he's got feelings, that's just what being human means. Right?

“You... understand what it means, right? I mean—

“Yes,” he cuts him off. “James told me. I know.”

He needs to control the conversation, or else the conversation will control him and lead him out of a window, down to the quidditch pitch face first.

“OK. So, is it... Did it really smell like me?”

Maybe the window option is not that bad. He'll keep it in the back of his mind, just in case. An easy escape route.

“Look, I know your narcissistic ass would love to know more, but I'm not in the mood for talking, I'm sorry.”

That seems to hurt Sirius. Good.

“No, okay, it's fine, I didn't mean to...”

“I'll shut up about it next time,” he promises, lifting his chin, using what's left of his dignity. “I know you don't want people to know.”

He wants him to feel ashamed, guilty, responsible for his own pain. After all, it's Sirius' fault he fell in love with him. He wouldn't have, if only he were less... him.

“It's fine, really, I don't care, I just—

“I'm going to the library,” Remus says, and starts walking without expecting a response. If he gets one, anyway, it'll be nothing more than stuttering and fake apologies. So he clutches the strap of his book bag and carries on along the empty hallway, his steps the only audible things that follow him. That, and:

“Mine smelled like you too.”

He stops in his tracks, nearly falling to the ground, chest suddenly heavy with something he should be able to name.

He looks back. His lungs feel like they're going to collapse, which makes him want a fag so fucking bad he almost forgets about the love confession he just got.

“What?”

No, he's still getting it. He still has to deal with it. With Sirius being honest. Telling the truth. Talking about his feelings.

It's shocking enough that he's got feelings, and now he's... What is he doing, really?

“The amortentia,” he says, more slowly now that he knows he's got Remus' attention. “It smelled like you.”

And then it hits him.

“It's not funny, Black.”

He looks around hoping for James to appear out of somewhere, hiding under the cloak until this very moment, giggling at his stupid oversensitive queer ass. Another one of their pranks, this time with Remus as the target.

But nothing happens. He only hears two sets of breaths, two heartbeats. And they both seem to be running a fucking marathon.

“I don't want it to be,” Sirius says, steadily. Well, as steady as one can be when he feels about to throw up.

“How'd you know it's me?” Remus still doesn't buy it. It can't be. Love is hard, it's tough, and Sirius has always been so cool about every-fucking-thing, so free and so easy. It just can't be. “I know your scent, but you...— You can't know what I smell like. You can't know.”

“It's not like a need a bloody potion to tell me, Moony, I'm a bit more self-aware than that,” he says, half-grinning, half-dying inside. “And, also, I do know what you smell like. It's like... Well, like the forest. Like trees and the earth and rain... and chocolate, somehow. It just smells like warm. Like that red jumper of yours.”

Remus takes a breath.

“Padfoot,” he says. He doesn't know what else to say. “That's...”

“I know, I know,” the Black haired boy braces himself, suddenly feeling as vulnerable as glass, his cheeks burning with the embarrassment of spilling his guts all over someone and not being able to take them back and shove them into his body, where they should have stayed in the first place. “Fucking corny.”

But it's Remus. Everything's different with Remus.

“It's beautiful,” he whispers, out of breath.

“Yeah,” Sirius smiles. “Yeah, it is.”

ummm here's part 3 lol

[bahrtofane]

promises under the stars - jude pov

Jude never meant to replace you. But that's how it ended up isn't it. There's no one to blame but himself, no one behind each and every decision that now has him standing at the end of an aisle, waiting for his bride. A bride that isn't you. 

highly highly recommend reading this fic first. or else it kinda doesnt make a whole lot of sense on its own. then come back here. this is kinda like a part 2? kinda

shout out to this anon for this idea ! hope you like it

word count - 2.1K+

watch it - well angst, yet again. pregnancy talks the works. sorry if i used ur name for his wife xoxo. enjooyyy

p.s. - shout out to @anadiasmount for the inspo to create the image at the end ! go read all her stuff yall so good

—————-

He thinks the moment it all comes crumbling down is when he gets word of you getting mobbed. After you've just been to Madrid with him. And he can't do anything about it but send security and hope it doesn't get out of hand. 

He expects you to give up right then and there, curse him and wish for him to have nothing to do with your life again. But you don't. You can never bring yourself to blame him. To hate him.

Then comes your whole family suing him for something completely out of his control. Fresh after your father has threatened him, this is just what they need to come after him legally. 

It's okay because they don't win. Of course they don't. How stupid do you have to be to try and sue for going on vacation for someone you love. He wants to call you every step of the way. But his lawyer warns against it. So he doesn't. And you’re left in the dark.

Do you even know that they've tried to sue?

He can guess what you're thinking. He knows you too well. You think this is him taking an exit from his life. He doesn't want it to be this way. Maybe its for the best after all he finds himself thinking. Back to the thoughts of letting you go for your good as much as his. 

But like most things in life, things get muddy. 

He spends his time in a whirlwind of emotions, all leading back to you. He can not go more than an hour without you in his mind. 

Even if his texting habits dont show it, he wants to talk to you every second of every day. Do you remember when he would call you to complain about the mundane. When he stubbed his toe, or drank out of his mind, pressing his nose against the screen trying to feel you against him. 

Things have changed. He’s no longer the same youthful Jude with a penchant for recklessness. Taking day trips to see you, skirting around paparazzi and your families just to have a moment together.

He misses you, but he’s scared to reach out again. So he remains silent and an onlooker to your life. 

Funny isn't it. World class player with more money than he knows what to do with is scared to text you in fear of what your families will say or do. 

And yet, he can’t stay away for long can he. His resolve breaks on your birthday. Months and years have gone by. Legal cases are drawn out go figure. And he's been so busy with games every few days and events he can never say no too. When he gets home his bones ache, only finding the strength to clean himself up and go to bed. 

When he calls you he realizes maybe it's too late. That waiting for things to blow over have left a gap in your time together. He knows nothing but memories. Your life eludes him. He tries to go back truly, but seeing your story while you're out with friends, smiling- actually smiling. He thinks he better not intrude. 

His mother isn't helping one bit. She's come to the conclusion that the only way to move on and get your family off his back for good is to just move on. Find a “nice sensible girl” she says, smiling.  

Jude doesn't want to. It makes him sick. Kicking and screaming the whole way about it. It’s not a bad idea in theory. Pretend to date someone. Your family gets off his back his family of yours boom you can be happy together again. 

So he can learn who you are again. Find a way into your life. Do you still tilt your head when you're confused? He needs to get back to you. He can't let someone like you leave. He doesn’t just love you, he’s fascinated with the person you’ve grown into. 

The thought of you with anyone else makes him sick. He still loves you, and he makes himself believe that the same is true. 

If only right.

He meets Kaylie in the dead of winter. At a sponsorship event that he completely forgets about and shows up an hour late to. He looks around trying to find his agent but before he can even say his usual rounds of hellos he spots his mother standing with a blonde who clutches her necklace to her chest while she laughs.

This is the start of his own nightmare.

He comes back around when he knows he has to. After taking his sweet time talking to everyone. He tries to look for help to get out of the encounter but it's already too late. His mother is flagging him down. So he walks over, already sweating. 

His mother all but pushes them together. 

“What a couple you two are.” she beams, hands clasped together. 

He gives a tight lipped smile and tries to wiggle his way out the awkward slew of introductions Kaylie gives of herself. But his mother gives him a look, grabbing into his arm and making stand and listen. 

There's a look in his mothers eye, he knows what it means. This is the woman that's supposed to replace you. He feels sick. 

——-

Along the way he thinks that maybe this is what's best for him. For you. 

His family all love Kaylie. And she's sweet enough.

Nothing like you, dragging him into different clubs while you linked arms to get ice cream at the same time.

He finds it hard to keep up with her. Her life is fast paced, more so than his. Every time he calls she's in a different country it seems, catching flights and going to fancy resorts.

You never minded a quiet night in. Its what you loved, being able to exist with him. 

Most of all she doesnt know him. She knows Jude Bellingham. The player, the figure, the celebrity. She doesn't know that he has a bad habit of touching his ears when he's nervous, how his eyes go wide at praise and teasing. How without a hundred reminders and alarms he truly would be late for everything. You always helped getting him to things on time.

When you were both awkward pre teens struggling to make sense of the world, you’d stop by his house to make sure he wouldn’t miss the bus. Sitting next to him on the beaten leather seats, and spitting facts you learned the day before. 

He always listened. He still would today. 

He doesn't think Kaylie’s noticed anything about him. She spends most of their time together taking pictures and flaunting him around. He pretends it doesn't bother him. Is the peace even worth it at this point?

She doesn't know how much he loves making little daisy chains, how much he loved putting them in your hair when you were kids. You’d throw a fit, but he never missed the look in your eyes when his fingers would swoop down to settle them gently. 

Kaylie is beautiful. But she's not beautiful like you. She may have an expensive taste for clothes that allows her to put together a stunning outfit for any occasion, cleavage on display while she pouts her lips and bats her eyelashes for a kiss. Kisses he never gives her. He can't. Not when he knows you wait for him. 

Sure she's great by the average man's standards. But she's not lovely like you. You could be in a trash bag and he'd still think you're the most gorgeous person on the planet. 

He thinks this whole Kaylie thing will blow over, that he'll be able to get back to you. 

And he tells her this. 

He goes through the motions, just to shut everyone up. 

Sitting her down when his mother isn’t around, “I don't love you. I will never be okay. I'm only here to get my mom off my back.”

And she laughs, flicking her hair over her shoulder, “Okay Judey whatever you say,” bracelets clanking together.

The name makes him want to hurl. “Get out of my house.”

Kaylie has got it in her head that she's here to stay. They've gotten into screaming matches because she's gotten her hands on the spare key and spends her days lounging in his house while he's away. They're not even officially dating by any means. 

And he keeps finding her in his bed, in nothing but one of his shirts. Giggling and acting coy. He's losing his patience and losing it fast. 

“Why did you give her the key.” Jude storms into his mothers house. 

She's making tea, swirling a spoon in her mug,”she's your woman isn't she. She needs one.”

“No. She's not my woman and you know that. Everyone that.”

She set the spoon down in the sink, going over to where Jude stands.

“Jude. you need to focus on what's good for you. And she wasn't good. You should be lucky that they didn't win the case. I went and told them about Kaylie and how wonderful she is. Be thankful. “

He's losing his mind. He needs to talk to you. 

He gets the chance when he's back in his hometown. And he sees you. He doesn’t think he could ever miss you, not even in a crowd. A rush of people stop him from running right to you. So instead he texts you. For the first time in ages. 

Was nice seeing you.

He hopes you can read between the lines, that you still know him well enough to understand what he really means. 

I still see you. 

For Jude is a coward. 

——

You dont reply. He forces himself to go back to what hes been forced to know.

Kaylie is all over him, hands roaming his body. There are days when he gives in. Sharing a bed with her as a cruel demented way to find some sort of release from everything that goes on around him.  The look on her face after its all set and done makes him genuinely want to punch something. A look of arrogance, like she's won something. 

And to top it all off he's been called up for England. His life gets even busier, if possible. Trying to keep up with it all proves to be grueling.

But light comes in the form of you. In the form of a single text.

Watched you play tonight. I'm proud of you.

You're proud of him? You watched him? 

The words bring him to near sobs, the light of his phone illuminating his hotel room while hes getting changed into his pjs. It's completely dark, his personal preference. And hes so happy he would fly the damn plane himself to see you. 

Before he can even think of a reply Kaylie tells him she's pregnant. Barging into his room with a little white box in hand. He thinks is some sort of congratulations for the game. Tacky card, maybe a watch. 

When he opens it, his world comes to a halt. Its a single pregnancy test.

He wants to cry. He's too young to be having kids let alone with her. It makes no sense to him. He always used protection the handful of times they did sleep together. Each time he'd only cry in the shower trying to scrub off her smell and the feeling of her touch off of him. She's only a distraction he tells himself. Too late for those words now.

It feels so wrong, so so wrong. He was supposed to be waiting for you and here he is sleeping with another woman. Who's now pregnant. He wants to vomit. 

He's in too deep now. And he can't be a deadbeat dad. 

Thoughts of you get pushed back to his mind while he scrambles to deal with the consequences of his own actions. 

When they get back to Madrid, his mother doesnt let him off easy. Screaming at him till he thinks he's popped an eardrum. And yet there's a gleam in her eyes like she's happy it all worked out this way. Doting on Kaylie and rubbing her belly (that's not even close to showing yet), and calling herself grandma already. 

The next step is obvious. He has to marry her and make it work.

So he does. An impromptu wedding that happens so fast he doesn't even hear the congratulations from everyone. He doesn't know how to break it to you so instead he posts on instagram and tries to figure out what his life has become. 

Jude is nearing 25. He has a kid on the way. He's married. He hates his wife. He hate himself.  Can you ever forgive him?

[hotchswifey]

insomnia - dean winchester x reader

(this is the first thing i have written in about 2 years 😭😭😭😭

it kinda sucks but i like it

warnings: insomnia (i am aware that any sleep disorders cannot be cured by another person and i do not mean to take away from people who suffer from these conditions, this was just a cute little idea i had), a little angst?? (just about how much deans life sucks.), fluff, cuddling, overthinking, thinking badly about yourself (ur thoughts can be mean but ur lovely and brilliant <3333)

also i have a hc that dean goes really silent when he's tired, except he can't go silent around most people bc then they start to think something is really wrong™, but actually he is just too exhausted to try to talk (self-projection? maybe.)

word count: 2373)

---------------------------------------------------

You rubbed at your tired eyes, walking into the bunker’s kitchen, your eyes adjusting to the light that definitely shouldn’t have been on - considering it was 3.32am. Your eyes fell on Dean, who was hunched over the island counter eating cereal. ‘Should’ve figured it was him who couldn’t sleep, too’, you thought. As bad as your sleeping habits had gotten, you always marvelled at Dean’s capability to be a functioning human with so little sleep.

He had noticed you as soon as you stepped foot in the room, but he did nothing to acknowledge your presence. Figures. You reasoned that the poor guy’s probably slept twice in the last week. You didn’t address him either; whether it was sleep deprivation or knowing he wanted to be left alone, you didn’t know. You just went to grab yourself a bowl of cereal. 

It was quiet (except for the sound of pouring milk and Dean’s chewing), but it was comfortable. It gave you some peace knowing you weren’t the only one who couldn’t sleep - something so simple yet far out of your reach. You didn’t know when it happened (your inability to sleep), but ‘it comes with the life,’ you supposed. You grabbed your bowl and left Dean to ponder on his own.

---------------------------------------------------

You rubbed at your tired eyes again. The same routine - lay in bed for hours, eventually get up because you’re hungry, head to the kitchen and find the light on. Again and again, this happened - Dean always sat there. It had become a funny thing kind of (in an unhealthy, oh-my-god-i-just-want-to-sleep-but-i-guess-it’s-nice-to-see-dean type of way). 

He didn’t acknowledge you, you didn’t acknowledge him, you poured your cereal to the sound of Dean chewing and went back to your room to eat. You wished he would invite you to sit down, even if you both ate silently. It was nice not to be alone at night, overthinking every gruesome and terrible thing to come. But you knew it was Dean, and he definitely needed some peace, quiet, and alone time (and this was the most alone time he willingly gave himself). 

You ate back in your room, not sleeping for yet another night.

---------------------------------------------------

You and the boys had just got back from a vamp hunt. Sore, tired and, frankly, pissed off. The hunt was fine, you all supposed. But, god, it takes a lot to completely decapitate somebody. Your energy was all drained, and the only thing you wanted to do was sleep - but could you? No. Of course, you couldn’t. Why? A thunderstorm? Fireworks? Gunshots? No. Because your brain hates you. God forbid you get an ounce of sleep.

Your routine ensued again, more sluggish this time and certainly more pissed. All you wanted to do was behead a few vamps and sleep it off, but no. Of course not. Try to sleep, fail to sleep, get up and haul your ass to the kitchen, pour cereal, eat cereal. How did your life become so dull?

The lights are on again. You think, ‘There is no way in all hell Dean is awake. That boy put himself through more physical torment you could ever even dream of (not that you’d want to)’. You weren’t too shocked when, even after today, you saw Dean sitting there.

It wasn’t a surprise that Dean Winchester (saviour of the world, the perfect killer) was still awake, even after killing eight vamps single-handedly (but from how he was sitting, you were sure he’d hurt his back on the hunt). Dean. Again. In the kitchen. Not sleeping.

You didn’t know why, but it pissed you off more than it should have. 

“Why are you still up?” You asked, walking past the island to the cereal cupboard. No response. Of course. You rolled your eyes, fishing out the box of lucky charms you reserved for awful days. You caught Dean’s eye as you turned around to get a bowl. 

He might’ve been the strongest man you knew physically and mentally, but he looked so tired. More tired than you had ever seen him. More tired now than after ending the apocalypse or returning from purgatory. How could he look so exhausted after one vamp hunt? You thought about it for a second, only now realising how many times you had gotten up and he had been in the kitchen. Every time you got up, he was in the kitchen. What are the chances that when you can’t sleep, neither can he? Or was it more likely he wasn’t sleeping at all?

If you were being truthful, the strongest man you knew looked like hell. He looked like a little boy who couldn’t sleep because he had a nightmare and wanted his mom. Except he wasn’t a little boy, he was living through the nightmare and had no one to turn to when things got bad.

You had felt pity for Dean before (how could you not, the man has quite literally been to hell and back), but this was a different kind of pity. This was the kind of pity that only came when things were terrible. When you realise this was how it had to be, how it would be, forever. The kind of pity that came when you realised you couldn’t do anything about it. You felt useless looking at him in his dressing gown, hunched over the counter.

He was the world’s saviour, and you had to assume that came with consequences - like not sleeping.

You didn’t say anything. Your anger had dissipated into sadness - sadness for being unable to help your friend. There was nothing you could say or do. There was nothing at all. You stared at him, and he stared back, and that was it. You went about your night - pour the cereal, return to your room, and not sleep.

---------------------------------------------------

Another day. Another hunt. Another sleepless night.

You considered buying the strongest sleeping pills and calling it a day. But you knew you couldn’t. Dean would haul your ass out for another hunt tomorrow, and he’d be pissed if you were fast asleep.

‘He should take some sleeping pills’, you thought. Maybe he would actually be remotely okay then.

Not fall asleep, get up, walk to the kitchen, see Dean, not acknowledge each other, get your cereal and leave. Again and again. You may have liked it, though. Just that little bit of routine in your hectic lives. Even if it was a bad routine.

You poured your cereal, your back to Dean, in complete silence. It was nice. Comfortable.

You picked up your spoon, ready to head back to bed, and turned around to find Dean already looking at you. You paused on the spot, unsure as to why he was staring. He didn’t stop when you noticed him. He looked as tired as ever. The sight of him, looking exhausted, with a bowl of cereal and beer, was heartbreaking. It physically hurts to look at.

He looked at you, and you looked back. Silent. Again. You wish you knew what to say, but what could you say? ‘Hey, Dean. You look like shit.’ You were sure you looked just as bad.

The sudden eye contact didn’t end. You both are not blinking, not moving, simply just looking. It was like you were communicating telepathically, just understanding each other and the hell you were both going through. This life was bad enough with sleep.

He didn’t say anything when you moved to sit down next to him, he didn’t say anything when you began to eat your (soggy) cereal, and he didn’t say anything when you finished eating. He just drank his beer and ate his cereal wordlessly. He said nothing when you sat there for 5… 10… 15… 20 minutes. Not one word.

You wanted to know what was going on in his head so badly. You wanted to know how you could help if you could help. But Dean doesn’t share his problems. You knew that, Sam knew that Cas knew that- everybody in the damn world knew that.

You sat and sat and sat silently. Half an hour passed, then an hour, then two… before you knew it, Sam was walking in- tired and grumpy. The sun had risen (not that you could see it), and a new day had started.

“You look like shit, dude”, Dean said to Sam, who promptly rolled his eyes.

---------------------------------------------------

This time, when you couldn’t sleep, you didn’t go to the kitchen. You just laid there. Unmoving. You’re sleep-deprived mind was overthinking everything- what if you fucked up on that hunt 3 years ago, and Sam and Dean still hate you to this day? What if Sam hates you? What if Dean hates you? What if Dean is so fucking sick of you interrupting his nightly cereal time? You were a victim of your mind- your thoughts and inability to sleep. 

Ugh. You were so hungry. But, right now, your brain was convincing you you were single-handedly Dean’s biggest annoyance right now (if Dean could read your thoughts right now, he would be calling you his biggest idiot).

A knock on your door startled you more than it should’ve (considering you had been hunting for quite a while at this point).

A knock. At (you looked over to your alarm clock) 3:34am. ‘Why is Sam awake at this time? Why’s he knocking on my door?’ you thought. ‘It can’t be Dean. I’ve done nothing but piss him off for the last month. You squint your eyes preemptively as you reach over to turn on the lamp by your bed and get up. The floor was cold under your feet, and your body was exhausted from the lack of sleep. You reached towards the doorknob, preparing to see Sam. 

Sam. Who was definitely not at the door. Because Dean was standing there, in boxers and a white t-shirt, holding 2 bowls of cereal, looking as tired as you felt. Huh.

He looked at you silently, extending one bowl towards yourself. You took it hesitantly, staring at him, confused. He didn’t react. He didn’t say a word. Just lifted his bowl to eat his cereal. You moved to give Dean the option to come in. It was like a silent agreement had happened between you. Cereal and silence.

He walked in and sat on your bed; you closed your door and joined him. Wordless. Silent.

Maybe, you weren’t annoying him. Perhaps, he enjoyed this as much as you did. Maybe. Maybe.

Ten minutes passed, and you finished your cereal and leaned over to put it on the mahogany desk. ‘The Men of Letters enjoyed a frivolous life, huh. Who needs a mahogany desk?’ You thought, trying to distract yourself from your overactive mind. Dean moved over to do the same, leaning into you whilst he did. 

He didn’t seem to lean away from you after that. He didn’t seem to move at all. He just sat close as you both stared at the wall, unblinking. God, you were tired. You just wanted to sleep. You felt like your body was going to shut down any day now.

“You should get some sleep,” Dean’s groggy voice came out of nowhere. It surprised you, him actually talking. 

“Yeah, I’m trying,” you replied. Hell, you were trying. You were trying so hard, you just needed to-. Dean moved before you could finish your thought, standing up and moving to the top of the bed, pulling back the dishevelled sheets. He laid down in the bed, propping his head onto his hands.

“Are you just going to stand there?”

You moved to join him in the tiny twin bed. He pulled back the covers to let you in. You weren’t too sure what to do with yourself, then. You sat there with your knees to your chin, shoulders hunched. He had invited himself into your bed, and you felt like you were invading HIS space. Why were you still overthinking this? Why were you still thinking he didn’t want you here? Obviously, he did! 

His arm wrapped around your shoulders before you could think anymore. You looked over at him, his green eyes reflective in the lamplight, and he looked back at you. Wordless. You gave him a small smile and moved to lie down. He joined you, his arm still wrapped around your shoulder. You debated whether you should lean against his chest but decided not to overthink it and just do it. You were sick of overthinking every little thing.

His other arm wrapped around your waist, yours wrapped around his. This was good. He was good. Nothing was exchanged between you; there wasn’t a need for words. You both knew this was what you two needed- each other. Dean had never really been alone (whether it was Sam, Cas, or Benny), and he needed somebody there to remind him that everything was okay. You were okay- sleep-deprived and needing a new career, but okay. 

Your eyes were shutting before you could help it. Dean’s steady heartbeat in your ear and arms around your body calmed you. It was almost funny how quickly you were falling asleep now. Months and months of sleepless nights, and all it took was Dean to be here, holding you. You wished you could enjoy it more (not knowing if this would happen again), but you were so goddamn tired. 

---------------------------------------------------

You awoke the following day to repeated knocks on your door and Sam’s voice shouting your name. Damnit Sam. He opened your door before you even had the chance to fully wake up.

“Have you seen Dea- oh.”

The man in question was fast asleep, his arms still wrapped around you, your legs tangled together. You looked towards Sam as he mouthed a quick ‘sorry’ and left hurriedly. You were surprised it didn’t wake Dean. A pin drop could wake him up. You looked over at him, admiring how peaceful he looked. It was simple. Simple and nice and sort of domestic. Or as domestic as a hunter’s life can be.

You leaned against his chest, his arms tightening around you, falling back asleep.

You two had a different routine from then on- if either couldn’t sleep, you would find each other.

[boyfiechan]

hiiiii

is there any chance you could do angst to fluff friends to lovers with chan with prompt 2? if not that’s ok 💕💕💕

thank you ❤️

Hi! Thank you for requesting, I kind of got a little carried away with the angst, sorry haha but please let me know what you think of it! <3

Click here to check out my prompt list.

In some way, you already knew this would happen.

Still, it made you terrified. It wasn't even the situation on its own, opening your door to him standing on the other side in the middle of one of the coldest nights of the year, looking so heartbroken and so confused that you can barely contain the need to embrace his body and confess all of the truth that, unbeknownst to him, has been eating you alive for the past few months. It was the aftermath of him learning about the secret you had tried so hard to keep hidden away, the one thing that could change absolutely everything between you two.

You fucked up, and you fucked up really bad.

Chan has been your closest friend for God knows how long at this point. You've shared so much of life together, seeing each other grow, experiencing new things, and learning about the intricacies of adult life and how complicated it is to simply exist sometimes. He was the one you always turned to—the one to drop everything and give you his complete attention when you needed to rant, the one to discuss your completely bizarre theories with, the one to call at the end of the day and share your random thoughts. The routine on nights like this would always be the same: both of you tucked under a pile of blankets on the floor of your living room, watching some sort of movie that neither of you knew anything about but decided on because the name or something in the poster was just so funny you couldn't ignore it. But it wasn't one of those nights, and it had been days since the last time he had even heard from you.

He didn't know.

And you didn't know, either. How could you even tell him how seeing him there made things so much harder than they already had been these last few weeks? How could you tell him that everything had changed, that the friendship you both adored and counted on so much would be completely ruined because your stupid, stupid heart decided to pick up on even the smallest of things he did? And now, after years of being his rock, his confidant, you betrayed it all by falling in love with him? You couldn't. It wasn't fair to him, it wasn't fair to you. It wasn't fair to the years and the secrets you shared with each other. It just wasn't.

And seeing him at your door, after you quickly brushed off all of his questions after accidentally picking up a call from him out of habit, you wanted to hide again. This is exactly what you have been doing since you noticed how your feelings changed towards him, after feeling your heart pick up astronomically as he simply laughed at a stupid video on his phone while you had dinner a few weeks ago. You hid away, rejecting calls, barely ever opening messages, and not answering any of them until you figured out a way to fix all of this.

What have I done? he asked so quietly you could have sworn your heart was sounding louder than his voice. His eyes searched for yours, silently begging for an explanation as to why you just left him so easily, why he's being cut away from your life all of a sudden. Please, you can't do this. Don't do this. Tell me what's wrong.

I love you, you think.

I don't know, you breathe out. You hate lying, hated lying to him even more, but it was for the best. It was easier to break your own heart than to break his.

Please don't lie to me. Please. His steps are so light and he moves so slowly you almost forget where you are. You can see his lips trembling a little, and he rubs his shaky hands as the night seems to get even colder. Can I come in? It's hard to speak. It's hard to think, even, and all you manage to do is step back as he makes his way in, barely even looking around. He doesn't go farther from the door, turning to look at you with a sort of emotion that you can't quite read on his face. What changed?

I love you. Your voice is barely there. It's hard to get it out, hard to even hear it in your own voice. The door is closed, yet your living room seems even colder than outside—you can feel his perfume and his shampoo and your heart breaking all at once and it's too much. I'm so sorry.

It's hard to look at him. It's hard to do anything, really, and your ears don't even seem to process any sound as he takes the last few steps in between you two. Somewhere in between his entrance, he took his shoes off, and as his socks come into your field of vision you notice you've been staring at the ground before you all this time.

No. Here it comes. Here's the feeling you've been avoiding for so long. Tell me to stop.

What? you know you're not sounding anywhere near stable right now.

Tell me to stop, please, or I won't be able to. It's cold inside but you can feel how warm he is, you can feel him right there, his hand searching for yours, his nose brushing against your cheek. It's so easy to get lost in it, so easy to give it all up just focusing on how his skin feels against yours as he plants a kiss on your temples, then another on your cheek, then one more on the corner of your lips. You need him there, you need him even more than you need to breathe, so you don't stop him and he doesn't stop either, finding your mouth with his and giving you exactly what you've been dreaming about all this time. It's unreasonably better than you could ever imagine, his hand suddenly cradling the back of your head as you completely melt into him.

And there's where you know everything has changed, but it doesn't terrify you anymore. Not when you can feel why he didn't even mind the cold outside, knowing damn well he must have walked all the way from his dorm to your door demanding an explanation as to why you disappeared from his life. That's when you know it all, when you can almost hear his heart beating inside his chest as you hold his face closer to yours.

That's when you know the complete truth—he loves you too.

[eddiemunsonw]

Like a dog

Gator Tillman x fem!reader

Summary: Happens after Gator gets his ass kicked in episode 2. He clearly needs some help, but he's independent, right? He can take care of this himself, for sure.

CW/Disclaimer: A bit of angst? Gator is having some inner struggles and you're doing your best to accommodate him. And yeah, a bit of misogyny in there too, nothing too strong though I would say. Also some fluff and humor, I barely can do without.

Author's note: The title is misleading, but it'll make sense once you start reading it.

Words: 2319

Gator

His ears were ringing, but apart from that no sound seemed to be coming in. He vaguely noticed his cheek was warm, realized it was blood and tried to not freak out. It wasn’t that he was scared of blood, not at all. Sometimes he even got a little kick out of watching things, people bleed. Just not himself.

Then… there was his arm. That was a problem for sure. He had felt the snap, heard it, even, before that asshole used his gun right next to his ear. Last but not least, his groin. His balls and dick felt like they had grown thrice in size in the bad way. He didn’t think there was any enlargement of balls in the good way anyway. But… Yeah. It really fucking hurt.

Getting to the ER was a challenge too. His father was occupied and he didn’t want to ask for his help for something so insignificant. He was independent. He could just walk. Once he stood upright, he felt like dropping to his knees again, his vision swimming. Everything hurt so much it was nearly blinding. He would’ve thrown up if… wait, had he thrown up? He tasted blood but he had also bitten his tongue, so… Whatever. One step at a time. And fingers crossed that shitbird wouldn’t find him.

You

The crash, followed by a yelp and a cry of pain startled you as you were restocking supplies. You rushed to the front and found a guy, a familiar guy, on the floor, holding his arm as he groaned in pain. Quickly, you kneeled down on the floor next to him, gently touching his shoulder.

“He—”

“Don’t touch me!”

His whole body tensed up and he twisted away from your touch. In the moment, it didn’t register to you as funny even though a bystander could probably see the humor of it as he wiggled away from you, groaning and moaning in pain as he did.

“I assume you’re here for a reason. How about we get you upright and in the chair, so I can check you out?”

Gator finally lifted his head to look at you and squinted. You noticed he was sweating, which wasn’t good. His eyes narrowed even more and a scowl pulled the corners of his mouth down.

“Are you even qualified?”

“Do you want help or not?” you deadpanned.

He managed to lift himself up to lean against the door and tried to cross his arms but remembered one wasn’t really cooperating and winced.

“Are you qualified?”

“To take care of dogs? Yeah, I am.”

Gator’s eyes flamed and you could tell he wanted to lurch forward, probably grasp your throat to shut you up. It didn’t help that you were smiling at him. Lucky for you, he was in too much pain to act on his deepest desires. Instead, he nearly spat the words out he said next.

“What are you calling me?”

You laughed dryly. Gator Tillman. He hadn’t changed a bit since school.

“Funny you immediately assume I’m talking about you. You’re at a vet. This isn’t the ER, Gator.”

“Oh,” he mumbled, taken aback. Only now he actually properly looked around. He seemed to have a hard time focusing his vision still. “What kind of bad business are you running here? There’s no one! Also that’s Sheriff Tillman for you.”

You looked at him, rolled your eyes and walked to the back to make yourself some coffee. He could wait. If he wanted to act like an entitled brat he should have gone to the actual ER. You knew barking dogs rarely bite. After a few minutes, he called out.

“Hey! Are you gonna help me or not?”

“Depends,” you shouted from the back, “are you gonna stop acting like a dick or not, Deputy?”

A silence. One that dragged on long enough for you to walk back to the front with your coffee in hand. Maybe you hadn’t heard the door open and close? Wrong. His eyes met yours immediately when you looked down, lips pressed tightly together, whether out of pain or annoyance with you, you weren’t sure. You gave him a pointed glance and a quip of your brow, waiting.

“Yes.”

With some help, you got him to sit on the examination table, which immediately required a remark from him, of course.

“Can this thing even handle my weight?”

You eyed him up and down slowly, a slow smirk forming. His frown deepened as you let the silence settle between you and he shifted uncomfortably on the table.

“Yeah. You look like you weigh about the size of a chubby golden retriever.”

“I workout every day!” he spluttered, as if that was the point.

“Okay? Point is, it can take you. No need to worry your little head over it. Anyway… let’s see.”

You could feel Gator’s eyes following you as you gathered some supplies, knowing you wouldn’t be able to help him with everything. The best you could probably do was give him a ride to those that could. You turned around and lifted your hand to his face, gently wiping away the blood that had leaked from his ear. His hand grabbed your wrist tightly when you came closer to his ear and he hissed out in pain. His grip was painful, but you could tell by his ragged breaths that he wasn’t doing it out of malice. He was scared.

“Hey…” you started softly, leaning back to look at him. You stood between his legs and while you were smaller than him, were able to see eye to eye due to the height of the table. “You do need to go to the ER. Get you checked out. I can make you a temporary splint for your arm but I don’t wanna mess with it too much as it’s not my expertise to work on humans. I can give you a ride? Is there anything else that hurts?”

He mumbled something incomprehensible and avoided your eyes.

“Sorry?”

“My junk. I think I need to like, cool it or something,” he said reluctantly. You nodded and walked away from him to grab a gel pack from the freezer, but the hand around your wrist stopped you. As you turned around he was quick to avoid your gaze once again and dropped your wrist.

“You might want to take your pants off.”

“Hah?”

“For the gel pack,” you mumbled as you placed a gel pack wrapped in a towel next to him. He frowned but started fumbling with the button of his cargos anyway. You already wrote a note to stick on your door that you’d be out for a bit and added the emergency number of the nearest vet just in case.

“Fuck!”

His voice startled you and as you turned around you noticed he was still struggling with his button. His vest was slightly in the way as well as his belt, which didn’t help.

“Need help?”

“No.”

He continued to try, frustration rising. The soft whimpers and groans made you pity him a little. After a while he looked closer to crying and you couldn’t just stand by and watch. You made your way back, standing between his legs again and gently swatted his hand away. To your surprise, he didn’t object. Instead, he softly gasped, stammering softly as your hand accidentally grazed him. You were unsure whether it was out of pain or… something else. A quick glance at his face confirmed that he was focusing on your hand, lips parted slightly. His usual slicked back hair was messier than usual and only now you noticed the dried up tear streaks on his face. You pulled down his zipper and stepped back so he could get off the table. He slowly lifted his gaze, cheeks slightly flushed and if you weren’t mistaken, his lower lip trembled a little.

“Can you stand?”

Quietly, Gator pushed himself off the table and stood in front of you, taller again. Except, he looked rather small, looking down at his feet like that. He sighed shakily, making no move.

“Do you need help, or…”

He shook his head and pushed his pants down just enough to reveal his boxers before getting himself back on the table and covering himself with the gel pack. A sigh of relief was heard but other than that, he made no comments, no snarky remarks. Very uncharacteristic really. Or maybe it was just him without the forceful mask on his face.

“I’ll grab something for your arm, I’ll—”

You turned away from him again but before you could step away you felt his hand enclose around your wrist again. The gel pack fell to the ground with a soft thud.

“Don’t.”

“I…” you hesitated on what to say.

“Please.”

His voice sounded fragile now, shaky. You nodded and slowly bent down to grab the gel pack and handed it back to him as he let go of your wrist again. While you weren’t sure what he wanted, you made sure to stay. There seemed to be a lot going on in that head of his. Suddenly quite aware of your close proximity, you didn’t know where to look. Even though his crotch was covered with the gel pack, it was still weird to stand between his legs as his cargos dropped below his knees and slowly sagged down. Your gaze was focused to the side, which is why you didn’t immediately notice how he slowly bent forward until his forehead rested on your shoulder. It sounded like he was holding his breath, anticipating your reaction nervously. 

Without thinking, you put an arm around him, your hand soothingly rubbing circles between his shoulder blades. A shuddering breath left him as he relaxed against you. A few minutes in, at least it felt like some, you felt him tense up again. Not much later you felt something wet dripping down your collarbone. He was crying.

“If it’s hurting that badly, maybe we should…”

“No,” he croaked out, arm reaching out to clutch at your hip.

“Okay. Take as much time as you need. It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay. I’m weak,” he managed to grunt. You weren’t surprised that a guy whose father was Roy Tillman had some deep self-loathing to deal with. In school it had always been obvious he felt pressured about living up to his father’s expectations. To be deserving of the Tillman name. He was as cocky as he was insecure. Still, no amount of pain justified being a grade-A dick to others. And yet… here you were, comforting the classic example of a grade-A dick.

“I don’t think you’re weak at all. Weak people don’t call themselves weak,” you told him softly, continuously rubbing his back. His breath shuddered when you gently readjusted the gel pack for him as it was slipping again.

“As if you know anything about weakness or strength,” he bit out, “you’re a female.”

“Right,” you mumbled, unimpressed. “Guess you’re weak then.”

A silence followed, apart from his soft sniffs, a reminder of his earlier crying. You felt him lift his forehead from your shoulder, breath tracing your jawline before his lips followed in its path. Your breath hitched, heartbeat quickening. Suddenly, his lips crashed on yours, demanding intimacy, taking it with some desperation. His lips felt chapped and for a second you were tempted to meet the roughness of his kiss but something in you held back.

In one quick move you pulled back and slapped him in the face. On the sensitive side, no less. He winced and looked betrayed, hand flying up to grab your wrist once more, tightening his grip until it hurt. You watched him closely, careful but not scared.

“Better not try that again without asking,” you warned.

“Or what?” Gator mumbled, his mouth curled down. Clearly not used to not getting his way. Well, too bad for him it had been you he wanted to kiss.

“Or I’ll squeeze your bad arm as hard as you’re squeezing my wrist right now.”

As if forgotten, Gator looked at his own hand and let go immediately, huffing a response you couldn’t make out clearly.

“Well then, shall we go?” you offered, not wanting to drag this out any longer. His injuries needed to be taken care of already. With clear disappointment he got up from the table and he let you help him get his pants back in place. The moment his hand reached out for your wrist you quickly pulled away and he looked up with genuine remorse. Hmm, interesting.

“Sorry,” he sighed and this time you let him take hold of your wrist, surprised when his touch was gentle as he rubbed his thumb over the most sore spot. “You’ve been all nice to me and I’ve been…”

“Yourself,” you finished with a shrug. Hurt crossed his eyes only for a second and you followed his gaze down to your wrist, where his touch was still so gentle.

“I’m not always like… that. I’m not.”

You cocked your head and watched him until his eyes met yours. There was a hesitance in them, but also determination. A soft smile graced your lips, which was met with the subtlest widening of his eyes.

“Maybe you could tell me more about that other you then, after we’ve patched you up.”

“Oh,” he said softly, followed by a nod. “Okay.”

“Come on, Sheriff Tillman.”

He smiled at your sarcastic, teasing tone and moved his hand down to yours to give it a light squeeze before letting go.

“Gator,” he corrected softly. “Just call me Gator, Y/N.”

“I was wondering if you’d remembered my name,” you chuckled.

“I always remember the pretty ones.”

“Flirting now, are we?”

“Maybe.” 

He tried to play it off cool. Until curiosity got the best of him. 

“Is it working?”

“Maybe.”

It was.

If you enjoyed this fic, please comment and/or reblog! It spreads my fic to other people to enjoy whereas a like does not, as much as I appreciate those too :) It would mean a lot <3

[anki-of-beleriand]

Bad Liar ch. 5

Summary: Life is about lessons, and Wanda has been learning some harsh facts that had define her life and taken her to a place in which she was given a second chance. Then, all of a sudden, she meets you, and she realizes why it's easier to lie to yourself than to accpet what's right in front of her.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff/ Female!reader - America/Kate - Mentions of past Vision/Wanda - past Natasha/Reader - Some Female!Reader/Carol Danvers - past Shuri/Female!reader

Warnings: Slow burn - Enemies to friends to lovers - Mentions of abusive relationships - Toxic relationships - angst - drama - mentions of abuse - unrequited love - gay panic - fools in love - more tags as the story progress.

Author's note: I'm back! Yes! I know it has been quite a while, life has been hard if I'm honest with you and these moments of peace had been sporacdic. Hope you like this new chapter.

This time around something happened that made R and Wanda come closer, yet far enough for them to deny whatever they want.

Thank you so much for reading, commenting, liking and reblogging the story guys! Remember that English is not my mother tongue, so forgive my grammar, spelling and funny mistakes.

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 11 - Chapter 12 - Chapter 13 - Chapter 14 - Chapter 15 - Chapter 16 - Chapter 17 - Chapter 18

Chapter 5

Falling

Her life had been predetermined by her father the moment she had been born.

For as long as she could remember, Wanda had always been told what to do, how to act, what was expected of her. Even though her mother helped her get an education, as well as get into a career, her father had always made sure Wanda was straight as an arrow, always leading her to a ‘good man that could control and protect her’.

She found herself being introduced to Jarvis at some point, the son of one of her father’s business partners, and a classmate of hers all through the secondary, it had been decided that he would be her husband. Wanda sighed watching the picture she kept on her photo album, in there was Pietro always smiling and happy with his arm around her shoulders while Jarvis stood to her left with a possessive hold on her waist.

Pietro had never liked Jarvis, but it wasn’t his decision.

Thunder broke into the night, Wanda jumped startled watching outside the window while her eyes drifted momentarily to the stairs. She strained her ear trying to hear if the twins had woken up, but the silence of the house was only broken by the rain and the wind right outside. Wanda sat in silence and a half-lit room, the memories of her past coming over with overwhelming emotions that threatened to break her over once more.

She held onto her own strength, the smile of her children and the words of Hope and Natasha while the tears rolled down her cheeks.

“This is a long road, Wanda. You are not expected to heal overnight, but you do need to start somewhere.”

And that was precisely what she was doing, choosing the memories she wanted to keep and letting go of those she didn’t want to remember. The pictures in her photo album had change drastically the moment Jarvis showed up in her life. Soon the pictures of Pietro, her mother, and her friends disappeared, giving way to pictures of Jarvis filling up her youth invading her life in ways she never noticed until now.

She didn’t even have enough pictures of her and the twins, most of the pictures included Jarvis one way or another holding them, grabbing them, possessing them. Wanda closed the photo album feeling suddenly emotionally tired, her life had changed drastically ever since she ran from Jarvis and started working on her, her children, her career.

“One step at a time, Wanda. You just must give yourself some credit, you are doing fantastic and as long as you remember why you are doing this you will be okay.”

And Wanda knew why she was doing it.

She still had the scars, and the police report as well as the medical records of herself and Tommy. The bright, blueish light of lightning breaking into the night startled her again, this time around she redirected her eyes to the window and waited for the sound of thunder breaking into the night.

The lights in the house flickered and soon the hole house went black. Wanda stood up, her eyes going big as she heard the sudden cries coming from the twin’s room. In less than a minute she had run up the stairs entering their room, the light from the mobile helping her move through the house and the darkened room.

She was familiar with the scene welcoming her the moment she crossed the threshold of the twin’s room. Billy was holding onto Tommy, both boys had their eyes wide open though Tommy was looking drowsy and flustered while Billy was completely awake and disheveled holding onto his brother as he used to whenever they heard the screams of fighting and hitting in their parents’ room.

“Hey, guys, it’s okay, mommy is here.” Wanda approached the bed wrapping her arms around them, kissing their foreheads with a concerned frown. “It’s just rain, it will pass.”

Billy merely nodded but Tommy went from his brother to his mother, and it was then that Wanda noticed the shivering figure of Tommy, his labored breathing and the glassy eyes. Billy shot his brother a worried glance before turning his attention to his mother.

“Momma, I don’t feel good.” Tommy whispered snuggling closer to Wanda, the young woman placed her hand on the boy’s forehead feeling the warm emanating from his skin.

Panic rose inside Wanda’s mind, Tommy was burning and he wasn’t looking so good. She lifted her eyes and Billy was glancing at her with a frown adorning his face.

“Mommy?”

“Don’t worry, boys, mommy is here, okay?” Wanda cooed Tommy while trying to give Billy a reassuring smile.

Tommy closed his eyes whimpering lightly, while Billy chewed on his lower lip.

“Is Tommy okay?” He asked in a small voice, Wanda fixed the younger of the twins on the bed while helping Billy down and directing him to his own bed.

“He is baby, but he needs some space and medicine, right now he seems to have a fever and mommy needs to make sure he is okay.” Wanda explained pocking Billy on the nose, the young boy offered a weak smile, but his eyes went from Wanda and Tommy constantly.

“I’m going to grab something really quick from the bathroom, can you watch over him without going to close to Tommy?” Wanda inquired knowing the request was hard for the young boy, they had always been together through the fighting, through the punishment and even in sickness.

But Wanda didn’t have the luxury of having any help, and risking both twins to get sick was something she couldn’t afford emotionally and physically. Wanda brushed Billy’s hair placing a single kiss on his forehead. Billy scrunched up his nose, pursing his lips at the last request.

“Tommy needs me.” He mumbled crossing his arms.

“I know it’s hard, Billy, but mommy doesn’t want you catching whatever it is Tommy has.” She tried to explain to the upset kid. “Mommy needs you to be strong and help her out, can you do that for me?”

Billy pouted looking away while nodding his head curtly, Wanda hesitated for a moment before standing up, her eyes went to Tommy then back to Billy who was still looking away from her. With a heavy heart, the young woman made her way to the bathroom to look for something that might help Tommy.

In the darkened bathroom, Wanda soon realized she had never bother to buy any medicine or any kind of implements that might help in a situation such as this. She had gauze, alcohol, bandages, cotton balls, and a digital thermometer. She tried to look at her reflection, the tears she didn’t know she was shedding rolling down her cheeks while her heart beat hard against her ribcage. None of this, but the thermometer, would help her with Tommy, would her?

With trembling hands, Wanda grabbed the thermometer and some cotton balls, she let her hands wander inside the cabinet until she found a small cup. Making sure the water was not too cold, she wiped away her tears and putting on a strong façade grabbed everything and went back to the twin’s room.

The storm ranging right outside the house became almost unbearable, thunder and lightning filled out the emptiness inside her home and by the time she was helping Tommy out, Billy was holding onto his pillow watching wide-eyed as Tommy whimpered and complain while putting his blankets away.

The lights had not come out yet, and Wanda had a feeling that this might take some time because of the storm. She went right into action making sure Tommy had the thermometer while putting the cotton balls and the cup of water on the bedside table.

Billy watched from afar as Wanda fussed over Tommy while his brother cried softly, and tried to get away from her touch while still couching and sneezing, his hands grabbing his chest or head from time to time. The young boy had always been there ready to protect his brother, and he hated it when he knew there was nothing he could do.

His young eyes went from his brother to his mom, she was crying and Billy felt his eyes well up at the sight. For a brief moment, he turned his attention to the door almost expecting his dad to come over screaming enraged before hitting mommy and Tommy.

But it never happened, and relief washed over the young man that still felt anguish at the sight of his family suffering over without anything he could do. Billy glanced at the phone, then back at his mom and Tommy, he lifted his hand and wiped away his tears with his pajamas. The phone he had been holding for quite a while vibrated in his hand, Billy frowned glancing at the phone while tilting his head.

“Mommy.” He mumbled standing up, he made his way to Wanda holding onto the phone.

Wanda lifted her head, she tried to smile and Billy could see she was not doing okay.

“Tell me, sweetie.”

“Can you call a doctor?” Billy offered the phone to his mother, he could no longer hide the tears on his face and Wanda broke just a little at how mature he usually behaved at his age.

Wanda grabbed the phone putting him closer to her, her arms wrapped comfortingly around him before placing a kiss on his head. She thought about the proposal, it wasn’t as if she hadn’t thought about it, but the rain outside and the lower temperatures could only be worse for the boy burning in fever at the moment. There was a moment of hesitation on Wanda’s part, she glanced at Tommy then at Billy before placing her eyes on the phone.

But before she could do anything, Tommy sat up moaning, grabbing his stomach.

“Mommy I don’t feel good…” And with those words, he leaned in and started throwing up.

Billy stepped back watching horrified as Tommy empty the contents of his stomach on the bed and the floor, and soon Wanda sprang into action taking the young boy to the bathroom, running and sharing comforting words to a now crying Tommy.

The mobile had fallen to the floor, and Billy grabbed the gadget in his hands hugging it closer to his chest not knowing what to do and how to help his mom and brother. It took him a moment, tears falling down his face, and he just checked the phone finding the only familiar name that could help him and his mommy in a moment like that one.

With a blurry eyesight, he pressed the dial button and finally started sobbing when he heard the familiar voice through the phone.

____________________________________________________________

There was not a single light on the streets.

The wind and water twirled in front of the windows, the bluish light of thunder breaking into the darkness from time to time, and the rumbling from thunder making the glass trembled echoing the strength of the storm.

You sipped some hot chocolate from your favorite mug, sitting down in the kitchen your mind played out the recent events that had shaken your life in ways you never thought possible. More than a week had passed since the school event in which you got a chance to see a side of your neighborhood you were not familiar with and finding her in the practice of your best friend.

Since then, your encounters with her have been sporadic. But each and every single one of them had the spark of teasing you had come accustomed to. It had become a habit to just bother her and rail her up, to watch her reaction to your piercing words and your constant teasing while getting some reaction out of her. To see her eyes going wide, and flashing that glare you had come to appreciate, or her retorts that were a defiance of your intelligence and your personality. A part of you knew the game you were playing was a dangerous one, another part didn’t even care.

That was, until your mind reminded you of one Carol Danvers that had been at your doorstep from the moment you decided to go back to the world.

The blonde woman had been there as a support, and also as someone that helped you escaped from the pain and the reality you were made to face. So much different than Shuri, Carol had always understood your priorities, and while at the beginning the both of you had agreed on sex with no strings attached, Carol had made it quite evident she was ready for more, and pretty much intended to wait for you to be ready as well.

Another thunder broke into the night.

You lifted your eyes wondering if perhaps letting Carol meet America had been the wisest thing to do, the both of them had hit it off right off the bat, and you knew that Carol had been more than happy about the meeting. She saw that as a step in the right direction, one of the steps to get you closer into a relationship you were still not so sure you wanted.

“What are you doing up at this hour?” The voice of America startled you awake from your daze, turning around you saw her completely dressed wearing a heavy jacket and boots as if she was ready to go out.

“What are you doing dressed like that?” You asked back raising a single eyebrow, the young woman came closer to you tilting her head with narrowed eyes.

“I’m going out.”

You snorted shaking your head, “you’re crazy if you think I’m letting you go out with this weather. Anyway, why the hell would you go out? This has something to do with Kate?”

America opened her eyes wide, blushing lightly while crossing her arms.

“Not everything that happens to me has to do with Kate.” She huffed indignantly, though you had to smirk at her reaction.

“As of late, everything has to do with her…” You replied teasingly. “You two should stop playing around and get together already.”

“Oh, shut up! You are one to talk, you and Carol had been playing the friends with benefits for far too long, you should give in already.” She retorted shooting you a defiant glance, you winced looking away while lifting your mug.

“Touché. I won’t say anything about Kate and you from now on.”

“Thank you.” America turned around but stopped when you placed a hand on her shoulder, your brows lifted in wonderment.

“Still, you’re not going out, though.”

America made a face lifting her phone while trying to come up with the best explanation.

“Look, Billy Maximoff just called me.” She started explaining, and as soon as that name came out you perked up. “He was really distressed, crying and asking for me to help him, something happened to Tommy and…”

“Well, where is his mom? Or his dad for that matter?”

It wasn’t so much the question, but the tone of voice you used to ask. Your voice broke a little, and your tone rose an octave making you clear your throat and look away from the scrutinizing gaze of your sister. America narrowed her eyes at you, tilting her head.

“There is no dad, and it seems as if Mrs. Maximoff needs help.” America trailed off before grabbing your hand. “Come with me, please, I think they really need help and I hated to think Billy is crying while Tommy and Mrs. Maximoff are…I don’t know…”

You made a face letting go of America while scratching the nape of your neck, your heart jumped in your chest while a tingling started in your abdomen at the thought of seeing Wanda Maximoff. It was strange, and unwanted, you shouldn’t feel anxious to see that insufferable woman, yet…

“What if Tommy is sick, Y/N? I know you can help them.” America pressed grabbing your hand. “Please, come with me and if it is something dumb, you can lash out at Mrs. Maximoff, I know it had become your favorite pastime as of late.”

“That’s not true!” You replied slightly offended. “She is the one lashing out at me!”

“Oh, please if I didn’t know better, I would say you like her!” America replied turning just on time to miss the flash of panic in your eyes.

“So, can you come with me?” This time around she used her most powerful weapon against you, and her puppy eyes with that familiar pout broke your resolution.

Rolling your eyes you nod, “okay, okay, I’m coming with you, let me grab something, I don’t want to catch a pneumonia just so you can go and help Maximoff’s brats.”

America smirked watching as you went running to your room, she knew even if your words seemed uncaring that you were hooked when she said the kids might be sick. America knew for you it was hard to not care, but sometimes it was harder to care.

*************

Your eyes soon found those of the small boy standing by the door with a blue blanket tightly pressed against his chest, he had tears in his eyes with his hair completely disheveled and a spark of mistrusted sent your way. America knelt down as soon as he opened the door, her face breaking into one of pure tenderness while she spoke to the boy in a soft reassuring tone.

“Hey, Billy, how are you buddy?”

“Tommy is sick.” He mumbled and was about to hug your sister when you stopped him from going any further.

His glare made you think of his mother, and you had to refrain yourself from snorting at the likeness between both of them.

“We are drench, kid, so hugging America is not a good idea.” The glare didn’t lose its intensity, but the boy pursed his lips and stepped away from your grasp.

America rolled her eyes at you, closing the door behind her and taking the jacket off of her. You followed her swiftly, while also taking off your boots and standing inside the house that had been Natasha’s at some point.

The place had changed ever since, though you could see the new inhabitants of the household decided to keep some of the furniture. You frowned stepping inside the place noticing there was no one but the kid on the first floor, turning around you could see America talking to the boy, this time around she wrapped her arms around him helping him up and walking towards you with Billy snuggling closer to her.

“Tommy is sick, and he and his mom are upstairs.” She commented, her lips broke into a sad smile. “He didn’t know what to do, but he thought if I was here his mom could take Tommy to the doctor.”

“You are quite the smart guy, Billy.” Your commented made Billy turned his attention to you, though his eyes had not softened he was now shooting curious glances at you. “However, with this rain, the best would be for Tommy and your mom to stay here…”

This time around you could see the crestfallen expression on the boy’s face, his eyes welled up again and your heart broke at the sight. You leaned in, winking at him reassuringly.

“But you and your family are lucky that I know a thing or two about being a doctor and may be able to help, would you like that?”

America watched as the boy tensed in her arms, his eyes opened lightly, and he glanced at you for the very first time with wonderment, and some hesitation.

“Really?” he turned to America to corroborate your words, and the young woman smiled at him.

“Yes, Billy, this is my sister Y/N.” She said, looking at you then back at the boy. “And she learnt a thing or two about children and how to take care of them.”

Billy pursed his lips glancing at you with a tilt of his head, “really? You help Tommy?”

“Really, I can help Tommy and your mommy as well.” You looked around the place before settling your eyes on America. “Why don’t you grabbed one of the torches you brough and I will go upstairs to see what’s going on.”

“Sure.” America turned to Billy pocking him on the nose. “Want some chocolate while we make sure Tommy gets better?”

You watched as both of them go to America’s jacket, and handing over the torch to Billy they made their way to the kitchen. With a sigh, you placed a hand on your head before turning your stare to the stairs; the place was completely silent, and you had to glance around while straining your ear to catch some noise. Without missing a beat, you walked down the hall until you found yourself in front of a door decorated with dinosaurs and the names of the twins in blue and red.

The room smelt like vomit, and it felt suffocating.

On the bed was a small boy whimpering, and leaning in was the young woman you had come to know as Wanda. There was a moment of hesitation before you knock on the open door, the sudden sound made Wanda jerked around her eyes wide open as they settled on you.

“Wha-what are you…who…?”

The young woman was looking terrible.

Her hair was out of place, and she had been wearing some sweatpants and a shirt that had strains of vomit all over them. The sight itself was quite incredible, you had seen the fire behind those green eyes, the power behind the woman’s words as well as her determination whenever you engaged her in a bickering contest. But the woman standing before you was lost, it was someone that didn’t know what to do or how to react, that was completely out of her element while holding onto a piece of sanity she clearly didn’t have.

It made you think of that time she had frozen in fear during the school’s event.

“You got any coherent thought behind those questions? Or do I have to guess what are you trying to ask?” Your lips curled into a smirk, the glint of anger flashing towards you as the woman strides to you her index finger lift poking on your chest, with her nostrils flaring.

“What the hell are you doing here?” There was desperation in her voice, and you had to wonder where the father of the kids was, where was her husband.

Was she alone in all of this?

“Your kid called, and America dragged me over to help.”

She blinked a couple of times, your words registering in her head while her brows knitted together. Her eyes locking with yours before she opened them in realization.

“Billy.”

“Yes.”

“America? Why…?” Now she looked even more confused than before, you shrugged suddenly very aware of the closeness of the woman and the foolishness of the situation.

“She is my sister, and your kid call her over to see if she could help you.” You shrugged trying to look uninterested in the whole situation. “You had a smart kid, Princess. Now, let me help you with your other kid.”

You stepped aside, and walked past Wanda who was struck by the door still registering your words. You looked around the place before kneeling down right beside the bed of Tommy. You placed your hand on his forehead, he was burning and your touch made him shiver telling you his skin was sensitive to the touch. It was quite evident he had thrown up, and his paleness confused itself with the flush of the fever. Your eyes moved to the thermometer then to the mess around you.

“What are you doing?” Wanda asked in a thin voice, your eyes were flashing angrily at her just as you stood up.

“Me? What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” You asked through gritted teeth. “He is burning up! What had you given to him? Do you know if he eaten something that upset his stomach? How long has he been like this?”

And just as you said this you stepped closer to her, the anger in you came by the sight of the state the room was in and by the obvious discomfort the boy was in. It was incredible to you that a mother could be this disinterested in their child. If your stepmother had been alive her first instinct would have been to take you or America straight to the hospital, bad weather or not, and your dad…

The anger running through your veins cooled down the moment your eyes fell upon the cowering form of Wanda. The young woman winced when you spoke to her, her body tensing and coiling in on itself, while she pressed her hands tightly to her chest. Her eyes clenched close, paled with a quivering lower lip, she was mumbling something you had not bothered to hear up until now.

“I just…I didn’t…I don’t have because I…” Wanda had been ready to answer your reproaches with the same annoying tone she used to address you until something in her triggered the memories she thought she had overcome. She was useless, a bad mother, she deserved punishment. She deserved her fate.

“I don’t know! I’m sorry, I…I failed, I failed, I’m a bad mother…”

You never expected her to break down the way she was doing, something in your chest stirred with sympathy and guiltiness at having been so hasty in your reaction. There was a moment of hesitation that was broken the moment the woman felt to her knees, this time around her arms above her head as if protecting herself from an invisible attack. You clenched your jaw, your eyes burning with horror at the thought that this was perhaps what Wanda was waiting from you.

You could hear her whimpers, turning around you could see Tommy crawling his legs closer to his body, he had been awake during the scene trembling on his bed with his lips turned downwards. You brushed your hair away before stepping closer to Wanda, kneeling down slowly but surely, your hand placed itself on her shoulder. Whatever story was behind her reaction, you decided right there and there, you would make things easier for her.

“Hey, Wanda, I’m sorry.” You whispered softly, comfortingly. “It was not my place, you are a good mother, you did the right thing, I just…I want to help…”

“Hey, Wanda, sorry I just…look, I came here to help. So…”

“Why? So you can humiliate me? Tell me…making me feel as If…” Wanda exploded pushing your hands away, her eyes filled with tears just as she glared at you. “I’m doing my best I just…”

“I know, I’m sorry.” You whispered, wincing at her words. “I was unfair, I…I just…I don’t like seeing little kids suffering, okay? And, Tommy, he really needs a doctor. Let me make it up to you, let me help you.”

“What? You are a doctor or something like that?” Wanda bit back, her glare never missing the intensity.

“Something like that.” You replied offering a half smile, Wanda furrowed her brows the situation draining her of any will or energy to fight over. “Let’s start by getting him really clean up, do you have anything we can give him?”

“What do you mean?” She asked in a small voice.

“Antibiotics, aspirin…something?” Wanda shook her head and you nodded curtly.

“Okay, that’s fine. You and him, you need a shower…”

“But…but he is sick, and his fever…”

“Needs to be controlled before it gets out of hand.” You replied helping the young woman stand up, you cocked your head, so your eyes fell upon the boy that was glancing at the both of you. “Let’s take him to the bathroom, I have some torches that may help you, but you need to give him a bath and help with his fever.”

Wanda nodded weakly making her way to the bed, Tommy was shivering with his lips parted. You leaned in, observing the rhythm of his breathing and the sweat on his face.

“Mommy?” He asked in a weak voice, Wanda cleared his face never missing the concern marks on her face.

“Is he…” Wanda started but soon trailed off.

“He is gonna be okay.” You smiled at her, standing up you placed a hand on her forearm. “Don’t worry, kid, everything is gonna be fine, can you tell me where it hurts the most?”

Tommy pouted hesitating before placing his hand on his head, you pursed your lips nodding. Wanda observed as you knelt down with your eyes scanning the small form of the boy.

“Does your tummy hurt still?”

“No.” Tommy put his legs closer to his chest, your eyes narrowed for a moment.

“Tommy, did you feel bad today at school?”

Tommy hesitated before nodding, “I didn’t want Billy worried because he was playing with Bard, and I’m always complaining.”

The boy explained in a thin voice, Wanda pressed her lips holding back her own tears. You offered the boy a smirk, shaking your head.

“I bet Bard was being a little brat about it, wasn’t he?”

Tommy opened his eyes before nodding, this time around he smiled.

“Yeah, the men in that family can be little brats.” You said winking at Tommy. “But they are good people, you don’t have to hide, Tommy, more so if you don’t feel okay.”

“I’m s’orry.” He lowered his gaze, “I don’t wanna be weak, daddy don’t like it when I complain.”

You decided to not comment on that, and you even ignored the sudden shift on Wanda’s posture, and the gasp she let out at Tommy’s words.

“Hey! Not feeling well is not about complaining, it’s about being brave enough to admit you need help.” You replied by pocking his nose. “Now, I need to help you and your mom with your fever, okay?”

Tommy nodded putting a thumb on his mouth, you stood up looking around the room before settling your eyes on Wanda. In a sudden movement, you went to pick up Tommy in your arms, the little boy snuggling closer to you.

“He does need to take a bath, and it’s going to be a little uncomfortable for him because the water must be lukewarm.” You stated firmly, Wanda shifted her position taking a good look at you. “Can you show me the bathroom?”

The bathroom was huge.

With a big bathtub at the far corner, you realized that with more light the situation would be easier for everyone. However, the place was big enough to make it work for the mother and the child, you placed Tommy on a small chair near the toilet.

“Okay young man, I need your help right now, think you can do it?”

Tommy opened his eyes wide, nodding while glancing at you then back at Wanda.

“Okay, I’m gonna bring some flashlights and you and your mom are going to take a bath.” You explained to him standing up while turning on the light on your mobile. Wanda had been silent up until then, she had been following your every move, hearing every single word you spoke to her and Tommy, and something inside her stirred grateful by your actions.

You glanced around the place helped with your mobile trying to locate the cabinet in which you might be able to locate some medication. Your eyes narrowed when the only thing you spot were gauzes, bandages, alcohol, and things that might help someone after a fall. Not in a situation like the one they were in at the moment. You turned to Wanda, but the young woman was making her best effort to look away from you.

“I’m going to get the bathtub ready, and you and Tommy can take a bath, so the both of you stop stinking.” You made a face winking at Tommy who giggled placing a hand on his mouth.

“I’m not…” Wanda started but soon trailed off when she heard Tommy’s giggle.

“You are.” You replied walking past her towards the tub. “And Tommy is too, right?”

Tommy hesitated before nodding, “I stink. I felt bad in my tummy and throw up.”

You made a face making sure the war was the right temperature, “that and you have a fever, Tommy. I will need some basic medication for you, but the water will help with the temperature, okay?”

“But, with his fever…” Wanda started, you stood up shaking your head.

“It will make him feel better, believe me.” You offered a kind smile and Tommy was already feeling ready to take the bath. “Let me go for the torches, and then I will bring some medication I have at home that may help with his symptoms.”

Wanda stood there nodding numbly, you hesitated for a moment before grabbing her hand, the tender touch jerked her awake and her eyes found yours in the dark.

“It’s gonna be okay, Wanda, trust me.” You whispered, and the young woman felt her stomach tingle at the closeness, her heart shivering at your words.

“I do.”

You nodded curtly running down the stairs and grabbing two torches from your jacket and that of America, your sister watched you with curiosity, but you paid her no mind and went back to the second floor. Fixing the flashlights on two strategic points in the bathroom, it took but a moment, but soon your eyes found the naked back of the boy and your whole body tensed, while your jaw clenched closed again, this time around the anger bubbling in your chest was like a time bomb ready to explode.

On his back, there were multiple scars, some of them looked fresh, some others were old enough to know he had been hurt several times in the past. Then, as soon as you saw this, your eyes drifted away to the young woman whose hands were tenderly taking the clothes off and helping Tommy into the bathtub. The way she moved, the way she worried about her children…

“It’s cold, mommy.” Tommy whimpered fighting a little, Wanda cooed the little boy trying to calm him down.

“I know baby, but really is not that cold, is just…it feels like that because you’re not feeling well.”

“I’m going to leave this here and you two can take as long as you want.” You commented furrowing your brows, your mind already working on trying to get the truth about Wanda from Natasha. “I will leave my phone here, if you want to put on Disney or Netflix for him.”

Wanda turned to you, her face breaking into one relief and grateful expression.

“Thank you.”

“No need to thank me, Princess.” You winked at her, placing a hand on your eyes. “Tommy you are in charge of the phone and the movie, make sure your mom doesn’t put a boring movie.”

“Yeah.”

Wanda chuckled leaving Tommy for a moment to grab your mobile, her eyes soon found yours and her cheeks burn a little at the sudden warmness she felt near you. She grabbed the phone and you and her turned around at the same time, you closed the door behind you, confusion filling up your mind.

****************

“How is Tommy?” America asked as soon as you entered the kitchen, you glanced around the place before spotting the door leading to the basement, in your arms you were carrying the bed sheets and the pyjama.

“He is burning in fever, Wanda is bathing him, and probably will take a shower afterwards.” You turned to America pointing to the basement door. “I need wash this, but right now that room is a mess, can you help me cleaning it up and putting some fresh sheets on the bed?”

“Can I help?” Billy asked in a small voice rubbing his eyes, you offered him a small smile nodding.

“That would be fantastic, Billy, Tommy needs clean sheets to feel better, and your room smells yucky so let’s make sure he comes back to a clean room, okay?”

Billy perked up at this, he nodded eagerly smiling a little, “yeah, I help, come America.”

He grabbed your sister’s hand dragging her back to the stairs, you shook your head opening the basement door going downstairs to put everything in the washing machine.

By the time dawn came, the rain had stopped and Billy, Tommy and America were fast asleep in the twins room.

The lights had not come out yet, and you had a feeling it would take some time for the electricity to be restored again. The living room was early quiet, and Wanda was sitting on the sofa with a warm mug of hot chocolate in her hands. She had bags under her eyes, her hair was still wet but her clothes had changed into another part of sweatpants and an old college t-shirt.

Tommy’s fever had receded, and he was no longer suffering from headaches or tummy pain, he had even drunk some tea and eaten some crackers before falling asleep on his bed. Billy had been right on his bed with America playing some movies on your phone.

Wanda had been fussing around the three of them, she was busing herself stopping any intrusive thoughts that were threatening to invade her mind. She was confused enough, tired enough, scared enough to allow another set of concerns filled her life at the moment.

You sat down on the sofa, the young woman tensed but her eyes never drifted from the photo album still open at the coffee table. You glanced at the pictures, having taken a pick early into the night before settling your eyes on Wanda.

“What a night, eh?” Your voice broke the silence in the room, it didn’t carry the usual bite and teasing tone you had come to use with Wanda, instead it was filled with tiredness and curiosity.

“Yeah, I never stopped enough to thank you for the help.” She finally said tilting her head to glance at you. “I never thought your sister…well, that you and America…”

“Oh, yeah, I know.” You chuckled wriggling your eyebrows. “I bet it was quite the shock for you to discover we were sisters, eh?”

Wanda allowed herself a tiny smile, “what surprised me is that she is such a charming young woman, responsible, and quite smart. And you don’t seem to fit in that description.”

You laughed throwing your head back, while allowing the comment wash over you. Wanda observed your reaction with some surprised, but her lips curled into a please smile, soon she was also laughing shaking her head at the absurdity of her situation. Here she was, sitting on her living room with a woman she though annoying and a bitch, only to find a comfort she never thought possible.

“Nah, she is good sister, I’m the bad one.” You finally replied never losing your smile, Wanda pressed her lips together looking away for a moment.

“I don’t think you are the bad one.” You raised an eyebrow, your eyes shinning with wonderment. “You are a bitch, but you’re not bad.”

“Fair enough, Princess.” Once more Wanda rolled her eyes at the nickname, at some point she had thought it annoying and quite invasive, a way for you to railed her up. But now all she could think of was how much she liked the sound of it coming from you.

The silence that followed was filled with questions unasked, Wanda was not the woman you thought she was. She was alone in the city, raising two boys all by herself while working to educate the newest generation in a school that could provide her with great opportunities. Natasha had advocated for her, she had even given her the house in which she and Yelena had grown, offering her a spot in a school that didn’t take just anyone in.

What was her story?

What was hidden behind those emerald eyes that sometimes reflect sadness and loneliness?

You stirred awake turning around while knitting your brows together, you could not ask these questions. You shouldn’t be wondering anything about the woman sitting in front of you. Your heart should not beat so fast, and your abdomen shouldn’t host fluttering butterflies creating a void you were familiar with.

Bouncing your feet on the ground, you stood up walking around the living room. Wanda followed you with her eyes, her own mind playing games with her and what had happened that night. She kept telling her that she was grateful for your intervention, that whatever she was experimenting at the moment was the result of America and you coming in to help her in a situation she felt was slipping from her grasp. It had been so long since Wanda forged any kind of friendship that was not determined by Jarvis or her father, she was finally free to be herself and reached out to people by allowing herself to make new bounds.

That was the reason why Wanda felt confused by you at the moment, it wasn’t because you made her heart skip  beat, or because you made her feel vulnerable. It wasn’t either because she felt her cheeks burn with embarrassment and coyness, or because her stomach had come to tingle whenever the both of you engaged in a bickering contest.

It was because she was learning how to make new friends.

That was all.

Wanda drown the voice inside her head, that traitorous voice that told her Y/N was the only one making her feel that way. Her other friends, the new ones, had never shake her world the way you had done so from day one.

“You should probably get some sleep.” Your voice broke Wanda’s trail of thoughts, she jerked around blushing profusely when she realized you were standing right beside her.

“I’m sorry, what?” She asked, and you snorted tilting your head.

“You should probably go to sleep, Princess.” You glanced at the watch on your wrist. “It’s three in the morning, I could keep watch for you, and I can wake you up as soon as the doctor is here.”

Wanda furrowed her brows at you, “doctor?”

“Well, I figured we need an expert to watch over Tommy, so I asked in a favour.” You replied shrugging, “hope you don’t mind.”

Once more, Wanda felt warmth all over, her heart melting at the gesture.

“No, I…thank you.” She took the last sip from her chocolate before yawning, her eyes drifted to the stairs then towards you. “If you don’t mind…I prefer to stay here…can we talk or something?”

You hesitated for a moment; it was quite evident Wanda was tired but she was stubborn enough to keep herself going if necessary. With a sigh, you nodded curtly sitting down on your previous spot of on the sofa.

“So, what do you wanna talk about?” You finally asked after the silence became too much, Wanda shrugged with her eyes falling upon the pictures.

It was still too soon, and you…The young woman turned towards you, she didn’t want to scare you off with her torrid story. She didn’t want you to know about her past, not yet, not like this; so straightened herself up she asked the safest question she could think off.

“Tell me how come you end up with such an amazing sister as America?”

_____________________________________________________________

The constant buzzing of conversation sneaked into her senses; she knew she had to wake up. An internal alarm was telling her she was needed, but her body and the recent activities had left her drained of energy necessary to open up her eyes.

Besides, she was warmth, and comfortable in the place she was in.

For brief moment she gave herself to the feeling, and her mind was slowly but surely losing the battle with her wakeful state until her ears caught the sound of a familiar voice.

“Thank you for coming, Strange, I know that this is not your specialty but…” You stated offering a tired smile to the man standing before you.

“Nonsense, I will be more than happy to help you out and that’s why I brought my wife.” Strange stepped aside and soon Christine came in rolling her eyes, on her hand the small duffel bag she used to carry with her everywhere.

“Hey, Y/N.” You dropped your shoulders walking towards her and wrapping your arms around her.

“Christine.” The older woman shot Strange a quick glance before wrapping her arms around you returning the hug.

“Miss me much?” She asked teasingly, you nodded looking away sheepishly.

“Like you wouldn’t imagine.”

“That’s why you haven’t called as of late?” The question came like a reproach but without any bite. You winced placing a nervous hand on the back of your head.

“I’ve been busy.”

“So I was told.” Christine waved her hand closing the door behind her, her eyes drifted around the place with curiosity before settling on you. “Where is the patient?”

“He is upstairs with America and his brother…”

“I am guessing you are the mother.” Doctor Stephen Strange stepped closer to the redhead now sitting on the sofa, her cheeks wearing pillow marks and her hair completely dishevelled.

“I…I am…Hi, sorry I just…” Wanda stood up feeling a little foolish and out of place, Stephen smiled kindly at her stretching his hand.

“No, please, we heard it was a rough night.”

“Yeah, it…it was I just…” Wanda stuttered kicking herself for being such an idiot, she dropped her shoulders wincing lightly. “I guess I need coffee, can I offer you something to drink?”

Christine chuckled waving her hand, “don’t worry, dear, I think coffee sounds perfect…”

“Good then, you and Wanda can go upstairs and Stephen and I will make the coffee and something to eat for everyone, would you like that?” You turned to Wanda who was still far too sleepy, and far too lost to said anything at all, you had taken charge of everything so it seemed and a part of Wanda was thankful for that.

“Yes, that…that sounds good…”

“Okay then, if you lead the way.” Christine took on a professional stance, her tone of voice and ever her glance changed, and as soon as they started making their way upstairs she started asking questions about the twins to Wanda.

“She was happy you called.” Strange stated, sitting down on a chair in the kitchen, you hummed moving around the unknown kitchen trying to locate the coffee maker, and some instant coffee.

“I was happy you guys could make it.” You replied never once looking back at your dad’s best friend.

“So, is she your new girl?”

You almost drop the mug in your hand, your eyes opening wide at the sudden declaration and Stephen merely smirked at your reaction.

“NO!” He winced, and she rolled your eyes trying to get a hold of your voice. “No, no we are neighbours, America babysits for her from time to time.”

“America has a job?” Stephen scrunched up his nose, you chuckled shrugging.

“Yeah, she took it after declaring she felt bored out of her mind and this would teach her some responsibility.” You pursed your lips. “She is right, you know? And, well…Wanda seems to need all the help she can get.”

“I see.” Stephen stood up walking towards the fridge and putting some bacon and milk, going around the place to help you out. “And you…and her…”

“Neighbours.” She stated curtly.

“Right, because you are dating Danvers, right?”

Now he was sounding like a confused parent that was no longer up to date with his child’s demeanours. You sighed rolling your eyes, knowing the questions came for the genuine interested of the man, and not because he wanted to be noisy or intrusive. He was like an uncle to you, and after your parents had died all those who had been part of your parents circle had taken it upon themselves to watch over you and America.

“I’m fucking Carol, there is a difference.” You replied slightly defensively, Stephen made a face shaking his head.

“You are dating her, America told us you invited her over for dinner and that she met her formally this week.” Stephen shot you a triumphant smile, and you could only roll your eyes at that.

Of course, America would mention this to everyone who wanted to hear her.

 “I’m not dating Carol, but I did invite her to dinner and introduce her to America.”

“You know it’s okay to move on, right?” Stephen inquired again, pressing the topic you had tried to evade for as long as your stubbornness allowed it.

You stopped what you were doing, Stephen continued cutting the bacon and serving the eggs and the coffee alongside a cup of warm tea and some crackers. He waited for your answer, hearing the noises of muffled conversation coming from the second floor.

“I’ve been going out with her, and she seems nice, and quite found of me, and the sex it’s incredible and…”

“But you don’t feel anything?”

You sat down shaking your head, “I like her, and of course I feel affection for her, but…”

Stephen nodded in understanding placing the cup of coffee in front of you, he sat by your side taking the tea in his hands.

“I understand.” He blew on the mug before speaking again. “Why do you continue with the relationship, though?”

“I was hoping I would feel something, but I know it’s not fair to her…to me.” You snorted taking a long sip from the black beverage. “I guess that’s why I have been running from you.”

“Ah, the wisdom of the older generation.” Stephen winked at you leaning in. “It’s okay to feel confused, and to want something, Y/N. What it is not correct is to play with someone that may be interested in you.”

“I know.”

Stepehen made a face satisfied with the ending of the conversation, then his eyes drifted to the newcomers that were talking animatedly about some movie. America’s eyes lit up and she soon run towards Stephen hugging him tightly.

“Uncle Strange!”

“Hey, kiddo!” Billy stood unsure at the entrance of the kitchen, he glanced first at America then a Strange and finally at you.

You tilted your head patting the chair beside you.

“Want something to eat, Billy?” He nodded approaching the chair, helped by you he fixed his body to move closer to the counter.

“So, young man, America tells me you are one of the men of the house, is that correct?” Stephen asked serving him a cup of orange juice, Billy opened his eyes big nodding tentatively.

“Perfect, tell me, do you like eggs with bacon or toast with jam?”

Billy pursed his lips thinking hard before talking, “toast with jam.”

“Good selection, my good sir, let’s eat then.”

____________________________________________________________

Saturday night came faster than you thought possible.

Christine and Stephen had spent most of the day with you and America, and most of the morning with Wanda and the twins. You had left your neighbours house with a heavy heart, thought secure in the knowledge Tommy would be just fine and that Wanda and Billy would be okay.

The afternoon had been quite the familiar time, in which America had enjoyed the company of the couple while talking about school and her aspirations for the future. The topic of Carol was not brought again into conversation, but you knew that Christine was thinking the same as Stephen and that most of that conversation had been thanks to America’s own concern.

You took a quick shower before getting inside your bed, your phone had been forgotten most of the day and by the time you finally got to see it the first message that appeared in there was that of Carol.

“Hey, just wondering if you are okay, hope you have an amazing day, Y/N. thinking of you.”

You turned to the side, your mind playing around what had happened in the last day and a half. The twins, Wanda, the conversations and the things that were left unsaid. You knew deep inside your heart you needed to talk to Carol, with a trembling hand you went to write to her but, at the last minute your finger drifted to another chat. A new one.

“Hey, Princess, how are the twins?”

_____________________________________________________________

[maple-the-awesome]

You Sacrifice Yourself for Them || Part 3/3

Part 1 || Part 2

Pairings: Twilight, Wild, & Wind x GN Reader

Requested by anonymous: HIIIII OMG I JUST WANRED TO SAY i lovelovrloveloveeeee the way you write so much!!!!!!! ur recent loz post had me kicking and squealing in my sear hehehe T_T could i request a scenario with the chain in a situation where the reader sacrifices themselves to protect the boys? im imagining things begging the enemy to take them instead, protecting them from a hit or even something funny like taking the blame for a mistake they made!!! id love to see some angst from you!!!!! THANK U AND HAVE A GREAT WEEK!!!!!💖💖💖💖

Zelda Masterlist 💙 Fandom Masterlist

There had been a time when Twilight hated dungeons for how often they popped up during his adventures. Between the brain teasers and terribly inconvenient designs (seriously who needs so many rooms or levels?), he would groan aloud every time someone warned him about a problem coming from deep within some 'sacred temple' or caves near their home, however after months of walking until his feet are sore and countless encounters with monster hordes, you could say Twilight has officially had a change of heart. Sliding a few boxes around for an extra heart piece really doesn't sound that bad compared to chasing a shadow across several realms, now does it?

With that said, he had been a bit relieved when a group of locals brought it to his attention that some strange smoke had been rising up from a nearby mountain, practically begging the group of visiting heroes to check it out. He wasn't the only one willingly to agree, in fact most of the boys seemed eager to help aside from Time who was hesitant to derail their quest as well as Wild and Warrior who just couldn't understand what all this fuss about dungeons is about. In the end, it was decided that half of the group would go for the locals' sake while the others would stay to investigate leads about portals. At the time, this seemed to be a great trade and Twilight had even been looking forward to being able to do something different, but as his luck continues to prove, it turns out he has none whatsoever in terms of joy...

What even happened? He doesn't quite understand. He was joking with Wind and Hyrule about something long after everyone had split into two groups to make exploring the dungeon go faster. They were nearly complete with their half, having successfully fought a miniboss which was no trouble at all, in fact that's what had them in such high spirits at the moment. They entered the next room while placing bets regarding how 'difficult' the main boss would be when a shout met their ears. Seconds later, Twilight heard a 'BOOM' while being shoved backwards by a heavy force. Given that sound and the vague smell of smoke in the air, he would've assumed he had been hit by the blast of a bomb which probably wouldn't have been so far from the truth if not for you.

It takes a good minute for Twilight's poor mind to catch up, realizing much to his horror what had actually happened as you fell stiffly against his chest, your entire backside scoured. The floor tile behind you both - the same one he was about to step on before you shoved him out of the way - is gone, only a smoldering pile of broken shards left in its wake. Now why it exploded, Twilight doesn't know nor does he care. His main concern is you, sitting up in a snap and grabbing your shoulders with worry. At least there's some relief in you blinking open your eyes to look at him, but the way you groan and flinch at the movement makes him sick with guilt.

"What was that?!" Wild asks the same question that's hidden deep in Twilight's mind.

"The gold floor tiles explode," You explain, the pain clear in your grumbled voice as you attempt to push yourself away from Twilight, although he doesn't allow it, instead carefully shifting you to sit on his lap as he hisses as the sight of how the flames had burned right through you tunic, leaving behind a nasty open wound that no doubt continues to burn.

"Why did you do that?!" He asks the questions on the front of his mind, accepting the potion Four quickly hands to him for you. A part of him wants to be angry given how calm they can all be given your injury, although any other day he'd be rational enough to understand panicking won't help the situation. Regardless of logic, this is you. You're hurt and you got this way protecting him. It should be the other way around if anything!

"Don't be such a hypocrite. You would've done the same for any of us," It's as if you can read his mind as he carefully pours the liquid over your burns, causing you to hiss quietly, but other than that, you're actually handling the pain pretty well, "Besides, it would've been a lot worse had you stepped on it directly. All that fur you wear looks pretty flammable to me. You would've gone up in flames instead of a small burn."

Twilight tries to keep his eyes down at his work as a stubborn sign that he knows you're right, not that he could ever admit such a thing aloud, "...Still...A shouted warning could've done."

"No it wouldn't. Your foot was already lowering -"

"- You two can argue about this later," Four interjects while offering you a hand to get up, "That potion is only a temporary solution. We should get you back to the inn so that Hyrule can heal you completely."

You're about to begrudgingly agree, knowing full well how difficult it'll be to walk on your own even though you were pretty excited to finish this dungeon. Before you can take Four's hand, however, you're lifted into the air, held bridal style in Twilight's arm (which poses no challenge for him to accomplish).

"I'll carry you back."

"You don't have to -"

"- You took a hit for me. It's the least I can do," His voice is as stern as his mind, making it clear that this is the only compromise you'll be presented with less you want to keep the argument up all night. Thus, you merely pout and look away with a huffed 'fine', "I'm sure the three of you will be fine finishing the dungeon by yourselves?"

"Pff, with our eyes closed," Legend crosses his arms, offended anyone would think otherwise. Four and Wind nod quickly, their eyes still reflecting sympathy for your sake even though they know you've seen worse.

With that, Twilight turns, heading towards the exit of the dungeon with you (more comfortably that you'll say) in his arms and Hyrule at his feet. As upset as he appears on the outside, Twilight can't help feeling some sort of shameful pride at the thought that you'd be so fond of him as to willingly risk injury, so he makes an unspoken promise to himself to spoil you for at least until the evidence of your burns fade. It's the least he could do (and the best excuse he'll find for staying at your side nonstop).

Perhaps it's because he's never had many opportunities to do anything like this before the Calamity or maybe it's because he got so accustomed to it after those dark days. The origin doesn't change the fact that Wild tends to find more comfort in nature than ever before. The splashing of stream water down a waterfall. The singing of birds or creaking of crickets depending on the hour. The gentle breeze through his hair as his only company...It's become a habit of his to find spots like this during tough moments, especially those when he feels himself slipping the most...moments like what occurred today...

If he wasn't so upset and angry inside, he'd feel sort of guilty for running off the way he had back there. It wasn't anyone else’s fault that he's out of his element lately, resulting in more screwups on the battlefield. It's not their fault that he messed up during the last fight, too, breaking his sword against a darknut's armor, leaving himself defenseless (he didn't think it would be that strong!). Most importantly of all, it wasn't their fault that his ignorance resulted in you, for whatever reason, feeling as if it was your responsibility to save him with complete disregard for the risk. 

Wild keeps replaying the moment in his mind - you fighting viciously against the darknut until it was reduced to a puff of purple smoke, but not without receiving several cuts and scrapes yourself. He's not sure what hurts more: seeing you injured for his sake or the anger that flashed in your eyes when you looked back at him. You're not happy with him. Nobody was considering the number of times they've warned him about not rushing in battle head first, however your disappointment carried a strong burn that challenged even the Old Man's. If anything, Wild strives to see your joy and hear your praise, not be the source of your dismay. 

He can't help but wonder what would have happened if you weren't so prepared at that moment. What if you had gotten a more serious injury? What if you had died all because of him? Could he stomach losing another person he loves like that? How can he call himself a hero when he's constantly failing those he should be protecting the most? He can't. He's a failure...

"Link?"

He pretends not to hear your voice, although it's a poor act given the way he flinches. Sighing, you take his turned head and stiffened shoulders as an invite to walk closer, finding a seat beside him in the grass. You don't say much at first, simply taking in the beautiful scenery and counting the fireflies fluttering around you.

"...I'm sorry I yelled at you either. I lost my temper, but I shouldn't have."

"You had every right to," Wild mumbles, pulling his knees to his chest and hiding his face against them so that he doesn't have to look at you, too afraid he'll break down if he does, "I put everyone in danger by being impatient. I put you in danger."

You shrug, looking down as you run your hand against the grass, "...You really do have to be more careful, I'll stand by that. You gotta assess situations especially against monsters you've never seen before...but with that said, no one can expect you to be perfect. This situation is different for all of us. Really, aside from the Captain, most of us have never even worked in groups before, so it'll take getting used to. Just try to keep in mind that you're not alone, so don't act like it."

Wild lifts his head only to put his chin upon his knee, still stubbornly glaring into the distance instead of responding to your words, although he's forced to smile a little when you nuzzle your face against his while whining his name for attention. 

"I heard you."

"Then show it. It took me forever to think-up that heartfelt speech. Do you know how difficult public speaking is?"

"It's only the two of us."

"And like, thirty fireflies!" You gesture to the bugs in question, happy to hear Wild's chuckle and even happier to wrap your arm around his without any sort of fight, "...I mean it, Link. It's okay to lean against the rest of us sometimes. I'd be devastated if something irreversible ever happened to you."

He blushes, his words whispered as he leans his head against yours and closes his eyes, "...I'd be, too, if anything happened to you."

This can't be happening again. How is this even Wind's luck? He thought he made himself perfectly clear from the beginning that just because he's the youngest in the group does not mean everyone has to keep trying to protect him as if he’s made of glass! He's a hero of courage, too! He did his part, traveling across the great sea, fighting through numerous difficult dungeons, and defeating Ganondorf all by himself - Well, the King of Red Lions and Zelda helped some, too, but the point still stands! He didn't need Wild to take a hit for him that one time nor did he need you to do practically the same exact thing now!

It's worse this time than it was with Wild which only makes Wind angrier (and guiltier). Unlike the Champion who bounced back onto his feet after a few minutes, you weren't so lucky. No matter how much Wind shook your body or cried your name with his tears dripping across your bloodied face, you just wouldn't wake up. He couldn't even lift you to carry you to safety. Time has already tried explaining to him that his panicked state likely waived his strength, but Wind refuses to accept that excuse. 

He must've done something during that fight to make you think he couldn't handle himself. You got hurt - really hurt trying to protect him and he couldn't even protect you afterwards. It was Warrior who picked you up and ran out of the battle. It was Hyrule and Legend who worked together to heal your wounds with potions and magic. What did Wind do in the meantime? He cried like a child.

He did his best to hide it, wandering to the back of the group while desperately trying to use his sleeves to clear away the tears. He couldn't help it, as much as he wanted to believe otherwise. For those long ten minutes of you not moving regardless of everyone's efforts, he was left thinking he had killed you. He's a hero who's supposed to save people, but instead he ended up getting one of the nicest and more selfless individuals he's ever known killed!

At long last, you began to stir, further awoken by the chorus of relieved sighs that followed. You complained of a nasty headache and immediately tried sitting up which Legend wouldn't allow; you're okay - you're alive despite how it may have looked seconds ago, but that doesn't make Wind feel much better. 

Even from where he stands so far away, he can see the smudged blood staining your forehead and that dazed look in your eyes while Wild just laughs, welcoming you to the club of needless head injuries. You, of course, brush everyone else off, your eyes skillfully finding Wind despite how he tries to hide from view.

You croak his name, yet he turns his back to you with crossed arms, doing his best not to start crying again, "I thought I told you all to stop risking yourselves for my sake. I can handle myself!”

"You would've been hurt yourself," You comment with a frown, making Wind's anger flare.

"I'm not a child, though!"

"I didn't say you are one. I would've jumped in front of you even if you were as old as the rest of us. Trust me, Wind. The only thing on my mind at that moment wasn't anything related to your age, it was simply the worry that you were about to be ambushed. I didn't want to see you hurt any more than I'd want to see any of you boys get hurt."

Wild chews on his bottom lip, blinking back the tears as he at last stomps over to join the rest of you, pouting stubbornly yet his voice is genuine as he mumbles, “...I’m just happy you’re alive.”

You give a droopy smile and a thumbs up, although the action is rather shaky, “As good as ever!”

“No, you clearly are not,” Twilight deadpans.

“Lay back down already, you have a concussion!”

"Legend, lower your voice."

[yutasbellybuttonpiercing]

What's x in the equation of love?

pairing: huang renjun x reader

au/genre: humor, fluff, a tiny bit of angst, slice of life...?, a bit suggestive, college!au, roommate!yangyang

word count: 7053 words

warnings: cursing ☝🏻, yangyang, bad jokes, i really have no idea what this is, but i find it funny, personally, maths, sex jokes, yangyang is... a bit of an ick, one (1) smooch, fast paced ending because i don't know how to finish stories

synopsis: yangyang decides that you need a tutor, he can't take your whining anymore. hence, you're set up to meet the most perfect man you've ever seen. things tend to become more complicated than they have to be.

a/n: why do i always make my supporting characters so disgusting?

a/n 2: holy shit this took so long, but finally!! the strangers to lovers collection is finished! also, this is my first time not writing smut... which was... weird? but refreshing? i hope you enjoy it anyway... even though no one is boneing...

"I can't do this anymore," you sigh, dropping your pencil onto the squared paper in front of you before letting your head thumb loudly against the tabletop. The sound inevitably startles – first and foremost, but not limited to – your best friend, roommate and study partner Yangyang.

It's not like you're bad at studying. It's just that you somehow managed to slack off on a few courses and now your timetable is filled to the brim with seminars and lectures from different semesters, and it's honestly getting a little too much at this point.

"Maths?" Yangyang finally pipes up after watching your motionless figure hunched over one of the many desks in your university's library, staring blankly ahead into nothingness. As an answer, you just sigh again, sitting up and leaning back in your chair. "Why don't you get a tutor?"

"You're my tutor."

"Listen, I love you – platonically – but if you want me to tutor you in maths, we're going to have a problem," Yangyang motions between you and him with his pen while raising his eyebrows, "because I know less than you do."

"I can't believe you're doing this to me," you whine, maybe a notch too loudly because a whole bunch of heads are harshly turned into your direction, several squinted eyes bore into your body from different angles with death glares, and someone even builds up the courage to 'shh' across the room.

"Not knowing maths?"

"Yes!" You throw your hands up, looking at him like it was the most obvious thing in the world. In response, Yangyang just grins, displaying his cute smile before he nudges your shoulder gently. You sigh. "I think I'm going to start crying."

"Please don't, that's cringe. I'll help you find a tutor, alright?"

A few weeks passed since your disastrous study session in the library (definitely not the first nor the last one of those) and in the meantime, Yangyang helped you put up flyers around campus looking for a tutor. Putting your phone number onto the sheet had probably been your first mistake since about half of the calls you got were pervs who, accompanied by a dirty laugh, asked if you needed to be tutored in "sexology". The other half had been a great mixture, a bit of everything, going from 4 invitations to 4 different "best parties ever" to heavy breathing into your ear (which you endured for a solid minute before hanging up to cry into your pillow).

Admittedly, there had been a few serious offers, but somehow they were not good enough for you, either too young, too old, too loud, too fast paced with trying to teach you the content, too this, too that, blah blah blah. Maybe you are just too picky, but would you admit that to Yangyang? Not in this life.

"What's wrong with him?" Yangyang asks as soon as he closes the door behind him, coming home to yet another person leaving your shared apartment with fast and angry steps, and an unreadable, but definitely not happy expression on their face.

"He has a dog."

"So?"

"I'm a cat person."

"With all due respect, but what the fuck?" Yangyang lets his bag drop to the floor so he can motion around with his hands weirdly. "You know you're not supposed to go to the pet shop with them, but let them teach you algebra, right?"

"I know, but trust me. He wasn't good enough for the job." You pout, strolling into the kitchen to make yourself something to eat which in this case means opening a bag of chips and sit down in front of the television to procrastinate and try to forget about the workload and unopened books on your desk that are slowly but surely collecting dust and/or growing mold.

"Could it be that, i don't know, you hypothetically just don't want to get tutored?" Yangyang catches up with you after taking off his shoes at the front door, looking at you accusingly which you only realize after turning your head to send him a sulky look.

"Maybe," you admit and just a second after, Yangyang slaps the back of your head tauntingly which causes you to whine. "What was that for?"

"You can't keep doing this. The next person that's offering to help you, you're going to take. If I hear another 'I can't do this anymore'" – he mocks your signature phrase with a higher pitched voice and odd body movements that remind you of a ship during dangerously harsh motion of the sea – "at 3am, I will move out."

You frown at him, an unuttered blinking battle happening between the two of you before you purse your lips in defeat. "Fine."

"... and I have just the guy in mind."

The guy in mind is no other than Huang Renjun, apparently, as you learn just a day later. Too bad that this information does nothing for you since, honestly, you'd never heard of him before. But hearing nothing about someone means that they can't be that bad, right?

That's what you keep telling yourself on your way to one of your favorite cafés where you're about the meet Yangyang and this Renjun guy in just a few minutes. It's sweet of Yangyang that he wants to help you find a tutor, but honestly, you would have preferred to wallow in self-pity for a couple more days, maybe longer, maybe forever and become a stripper instead.

Studying had always been hard for you, it's not that you're particularly stupid, you just have to realize over and over again that there are many things in this world that are way more interesting, that you'd much rather do than to study.

But maybe this is what you need, a final push into taking care of your life by a dear friend.

Finally, you arrive at your destination, ordering your drink before texting Yangyang a quick message asking about his whereabouts, decorated with an annoyed emoji. The answer comes sadly not in text form as you'd hoped, like something along the lines of "Can't make it, sorry, Renjun is busy" but no. Instead, you hear your name being called and as you look up, there's a particular blonde haired guy waving frantically at you from across the café.

You huff out a breath before moving forward, keeping your eyes to the ground as you make your way towards their table. Maybe, just maybe, you had dreaded this particular meet up and had therefore taken the longer route, and maybe you're a little late.

"Glad you could make it!" Yangyang greets with a fake smile.

"Shut up," you mumble as you sit down next to him, eyes glued to your cup as to not spill any of the liquid on your hands. Or maybe you should let it, it would make a great excuse to leave immediately.

"I'm Renjun!"

God, fuck.

You clutch your chest with your hand, admittedly over-dramatically. You had almost forgotten about him. Quickly, you collect yourself and look up at him, opening your mouth ready to introduce yourself too, but all that comes out is a weird, stertorous breath because holy shit, this guy's- handsome? Pretty? Beautiful? Perfect???

With a worried expression, Yangyang pads your back, probably already imagining you saying that Renjun could not tutor you because his perfume smells too strong, when in reality you'd kill – twice – to only get one tiny whiff of this man's fragrance.

Finally, you have grounded yourself, given Renjun your name and avoided shaking his hand successfully because he does not have to know how sweaty your palms are. Lucky for you, Yangyang remembers an insanely interesting topic that he has to talk to Renjun about, giving you the time and opportunity to study Renjun's face and everything else about him that is exposed to your eyes above the tabletop.

The first eye catcher would be his two toned hair that gently curls around his cheeks, framing it as if his face is a beautiful painting, which in your opinion, it certainly is. Next, you focus on his eyes that still seem to sparkle, even in the shitty light of the cheap café. He also has extremely beautiful lips, so slender, but at the same time so plush and full, so incredibly kissable. And his big nose...

A sudden shadow comes into your line of view, quickly followed by a quick, stinging pain as Yangyang pinches your nose to get your attention.

"What?!" You exclaim, holding onto your nose to, honestly, feel if it's still there as you look at Yangyang with squinted eyes full of annoyance.

"I've asked you something, like, three times." Yangyang chuckles as he pinches your earlobe next. "Did you space out again thinking about the amount of liquid a bladder can hold?"

"That is an embarrassing piece of information that I would have preferred to stay between the two of us." You grit your teeth as you glare at Yangyang. "And stop pinching me!" You hit Yangyang's hand as he reaches out to pinch your cheek next.

Yangyang laughs, "I'm sorry, it was my fault for occupying your study date for so long. I'll be on my way now. Have fun, but not too much fun since this is only maths and it would be weird if you had fun."

And with that, Yangyang disappears, completely ignoring your pleading puppy-eyes as he grabs his bag and waves, almost bumping into the waitress on his way out, apologizing profoundly before smirking, and asking for her number.

Now, it's just the two of you alone and with every second that Yangyang's gone the awkward silence thickens and your death wish upon Yangyang grows.

"So, uhm." Renjun clears his throat, sorting through his papers quickly before placing them down again in the initial order. "Yangyang sent me the topics of your maths course for this semester so I've brought some material."

You nod, finding it particularly hard to focus on anything but Renjun's perfect eyebrows, which is also the reason you can't really appreciate or be surprised that Yangyang actually put this much effort into something for little old you.

"I would like to make a plan, like repeating study dates, and I'd love to discuss the topics of each lesson right now so we're prepared. We can time it with your lectures and go over the stuff beforehand so you're prepared for each lecture. I mean, if that's something you want?" Renjun looks up from his notes, his eyes directly meeting yours and you feel yourself melt.

"Yes, of course." You're surprised that you managed to bring out actual words and not just a needy whine because... anything with you is something I'd want. You can do anything with me. Anything.

Anything.

"Great!"

And just like that, you're diving head first into your first study session with Renjun and you have to admit, he is incredibly smart and great at explaining, and, as long as you don't look at him directly or for too long, you believe he could really help you with your maths problems.

An hour later, you part ways, half bowing, half waving at each other, both still too new to the situation to be able to define your relationship and therefore agree on a proper way of saying goodbye, but so be it. The inner shame you're feeling about your awkward goodbye will hopefully subside in the next few hours. Or days. As soon as you turn the corner you bump into someone.

After an exaggerated intake of air, you glare at him. "Don't tell me you were waiting here this whole time."

"Brought my Nintendo." Yangyang smiles, waving the device in front of your face.

"Still weird."

"Did you really expect me to miss the first opportunity in my life of you telling me that I was right?" Yangyang beams confidently and as much as you fight it, a smile creeps onto your features as well because, yes, he had been right, Renjun is perfect at tutoring as well as every other aspect you've seen so far.

"He has a what?!"

"A girlfriend," Yangyang repeats, but it's so muffled by the food stuffed into his mouth that you believe you misheard him again. Or maybe that's just you hoping.

"A what?"

"Girlfriend."

"What?"

"GIRLFRIEND!!"

"And that's why he can't tutor me?!"

Yangyang swallows before answering this time and you're thankful for that. "Apparently. He just told me to tell you."

On the outside, you may have looked normal in this moment, just staring at Yangyang with an indifferent look on your face, but on the inside? It's like a whole world crushing down behind your eyes. In your head, there are at least 20 different little 'you's running around screaming and waving their arms around frantically, everything is one fire, in the distance: sirens. Why had no one mentioned Renjun's girlfriend before? You could've spend the past nights planning scenarios in your head about marrying him as you fell asleep doing something... something else! Something with a perspective, at least.

Of course, Renjun has a girlfriend. Honestly, you'd have been surprised if he didn't have one, but it still kind of stung right there in your chest, all your little fantasies that you've made up during movie nights with Yangyang vaporizing into thin air at the thought that he already is someone's.

"Why do you seem so upset by this? Could it be that you, i don't know, mayhaps like him?" Yangyang smirks, dropping his chopsticks to fold his hands under his chin, leaning his elbows onto the table to smirk at you.

"No." You stare back at him without a hint of emotion on your features. "I just need him to tutor me."

Yangyang sighs, picking his chopsticks back up, seemingly disappointed by the lack of crush you pretend to have on Renjun. There are not too many things you're good at, but hiding your feelings is one of them.

"Is something wrong?" Renjun finally asks you.

You've been sitting at your dining table for quite some time now and all you did so far was sulkingly pout and not look him in the eyes. Remember when you said that you're good at hiding your feelings? Scratch that when it comes to Renjun.

Renjun looks at you worriedly, clicking his pen thrice before putting it down on his book, your eyes following his every movement until you finally look up into his eyes. "Are you mad because I raised my voice when I told you to take the square root for the n-th time? Because if-"

"No, it's not that. There's just a lot on my mind lately." You sigh, eyes going back to the sheet of paper in front of you as you fiddle around with your pen almost nervously.

"You can always talk to me, you know?" Renjun finally says after you've been pretending to work on your task for quite some time. You raise your eyebrows simultaneously with your head to look at him in disbelief. "If you want to, of course..."

"I don't think your girlfriend would appreciate that..." You mumble, hoping he would not hear it, but apparently, Renjun's ears are extraordinarily intact and a tiny smile tucks at the corners of his mouth. You watch him as he leans back in his chair, closing his book to symbolize the ending of this study session, though his pen is still stuck in between the pages, bulging through the thin pages and the wobbly cover.

Renjun sighs, seemingly in deep thought about what to tell you next and a tiny wave of anxiety washes over you at the thought that maybe you've just given away your slowly but surely forming crush on him, and scared him away.

"I don't-" Renjun takes a deep breath, "I don't care what she thinks."

Your eyebrows shoot upwards at the speed of light. Out of all the possible answers in this scenario, this would've been your last guess. What's that even supposed to mean? Your surprise at his words seem to be showing on your face since Renjun leans forward onto his forearms, minimizing the space in between the two of you.

"Look..." He begins, but seems to be in trouble about how to put his situation into words. "Let's just say, it's not going too well. Let's leave it at that."

You nod understandingly, briefly licking over your lower lip, averting your eyes away from his form. To say you're not curious would be a lie, though you respect his wish to leave it at that, silently sorting your things as Renjun stuffs his own into his backpack. "I'll walk you out."

The next study session has you biting your nails in nervousness. Renjun seems to be in an exceptionally bad mood today, and he has no problem raising his voice at you every time you make an unnecessary mistake. You try your best to ignore the way that's making you feel, given the mood he's in, but you try to remember that feeling for the next time you're alone.

"What's up with you today?"

Renjun huffs, leaning back in his chair to fiddle with his fingers in his lap. He looks kind of cute like that, you have to admit, but you keep that thought to yourself for obvious reasons, instead taking a sip of your water to hide the small smile forming on your face.

"We broke up."

You spit the water out all over the table, wetting a few of your work sheets in the process. Renjun, unfazed by your sudden fountain imitation, just sighs, eyes trained on his hands as you try to dry all of the wet stains on the wooden and papery surfaces with tissues.

"It's not like I'm not glad about the decision, it's just that... I was so used to her presence in my life," Renjun continues as if you didn't just spit a few droplets onto his pants, "the circumstances for our break-up were also... unfortunate."

"I'm so sorry," you say, a squelching flapping sound of the soaked glob of tissues hitting the ground next to the garbage can accompanying your words as you reach out to gently pad his forearm. You notice the way his eyes focus on the exact spot where you touch him.

Quickly, you retort your hand, suddenly feeling like that had just been the worst decision of your life, but Renjun grabs your wrist before you pull it out of his reach. "It's okay, you can touch me."

You don't want to admit to the rush of warmth spreading over your body at his words, not even to yourself. It's embarrassing, he didn't even mean it like that, but it still gets you all hot and bothered. There are just many, many places and occasions where you'd like to touch him.

"There's no one to stop you," Renjun adds, chuckling gently as he refers to his now ex girlfriend and obviously himself. It seems like your silence didn't go unnoticed by him.

"May I ask... what happened?"

Renjun blinks at you, and for a split second, you believe asking was a mistake. But then, he answers, "It's been... not going well for a while now. We're too different, and I honestly fell out of love with her a long time ago. Plus-"

Renjun halts for a moment, before he continues, "there's someone that... made me realize that there are still many other good options out there."

"Ah, really?" You chuckle awkwardly. You're aware that if your friends were here right now, they'd all nudge your sides with their elbows, grinning widely in belief he's talking about you. You, on the other hand, are not so sure about that.

"I only met this person a few weeks ago, but I feel like... there's a connection. I mean, I don't know what it is, but I'm insanely attracted to- that person." Renjun scratches the back of his head, eyes locking with yours as if he's waiting for you to say something.

"I- can relate," you try.

"What if-" Renjun starts, but then begins shaking his head, "never mind."

You don't see Renjun for a few weeks. Every time, it's either you or him who has to cancel the meeting due to personal reasons. Yangyang is the one accompanying you during your solo study sessions, tapping away on his phone as you massage your temples with such force that you're surprised the you haven't rubbed any holes into your skull yet.

"Why isn't he coming today?" Yangyang pipes up, putting his phone onto the table with the screen facing down. You sigh so heavily and dramatically that Yangyang raises an eyebrow. You throw your pencil onto the wooden surface so hard that it rolls over the expanse of the table until it falls to the ground at the opposite end.

"I don't know," you say through gritted teeth, throwing Yangyang a stern look like he's a bird that just took a fat dump right onto the wind shield of your new car.

"Woah," Yangyang throws his hands up intermediately, mouth agape in fake offense, "no need to lash out on me like that, I'm not occupying your sexy tutor right now."

"Why are you calling him that?" You gasp.

"Because that's what you think he is," Yangyang states, nodding with a smile on his face. You sigh.

"I mean, he's not ugly," you reason, but that statement is enough for Yangyang to pull out his folder almost spilling over with collages and collections of white dresses, suits, napkins and bouquets to plan your wedding. Metaphorically speaking, of course.

"I think he wants you too," Yangyang sighs dreamily, folding his hands underneath his chin to rest it on top.

"Calm down, cupid, he just broke up with his girlfriend."

"For you," Yangyang sing-songs, dragging out the words as he finger-guns at you, "now we just need a plan to get you two to- you know," Yangyang motions with his hands and you're not completely sure whether he's trying to symbolize intercourse or solving an invisible Rubix cube.

"No."

"Yes!" Yangyang gasps offendedly.

"No! I need him to tutor me! Even if, hypothetically, he was madly in love with me," – you scoff to hide a forming grin – "I need his help! The exam is in just under a week, and neither him nor I can get distracted during these times of terror!"

Yangyang just watches you doubtfully.

"Believe me, it's better if I just study on my own. I can always ask him via text," you announce your final stance, waving your phone in the air to prove that due to the break-throughs of modern technology over the past years, he's just the press of a button away.

Yangyang does not budge nor react.

"What I'm trying to say is: do not get involved!" You screech, opting to throw a balled up piece of paper into his face that he doges with ease.

Apparently, your words mean nothing to Yangyang because just a day later he's invited you to the same cheap café where you had met Renjun for the first time. Too bad that Yangyang didn't show up. Someone else did show up, though, and it was no other than the complete content of your last month's dreams: Renjun.

"Where-" you begin, but soon realize that this is a set-up, and you make a mental note to strangle Yangyang as soon as you get home. With a slight smile, Renjun sits down across from you, hands wrapped around his paper cup filled with what you assume is tea, judging by the little label on a string dangling from under the lid.

"I swear to God, I'm going to kill him," you mutter, but Renjun suddenly puts a hand onto your forearm, your gaze burning into the pretty birthmark on the back of his hand immediately.

"Please don't," Renjun says, voice so soft that you have to pull yourself together as to not slide off your chair to melt into a puddle on the floor. Instead, you look up to find his beautiful eyes already locking with yours. "You need me right now, in these times of terror."

"He told you about that," you whine, face scrunching up in embarrassment.

"Yes," Renjun nods, pressing his lips together to symbolize empathy for your situation, that you accept with a sigh. Renjun does not need to know, and will never find out, that you actually will bury Yangyang alive in your neighbor's yard once you get back, or at least bewitch him so he never dares to darken your doorstep again. "The important thing is, I'm here. And I will get you through that exam."

"Honestly, I might as well just drop out. It's useless, you're just wasting your time. I should just become a stripper or something," you complain, fingers picking at your chipped off nail polish.

"As much as I'd love to see that..."

"What was that?"

"Nothing. I don't want you to give up so easily! You can do this, I believe in you!" Renjun fakes a grin and shakes his fists in the air. "Jiāyóu~!"

You grimace at the expression, but then break out a smile as well. God, you missed him. Honestly, when you're looking at him, all the motivation his pretty eyes contain kind of latch onto you as well. Maybe you can do it, but not without his help.

"I'm free every day starting tomorrow."

"Sounds good to me."

A mathematics-marathon should be the last thing to be excited for, though you still found yourself sleepless rolling around your mattress the night prior, a giggling grin on your face as you imagined the next 3 days to be filled with nothing but quality time with Renjun. Even Yangyang is surprised seeing you up so early the next day, making coffee with a smile and a tune on your lips, and even a 'good morning' – something he hadn't received in years, maybe not ever.

"Alright, all set?" You ask, beaming.

"Yeah?"

"Great! I'll go masturbate!"

"Why?"

"Because I have to be able to focus on studying-"

"No, why are you telling me this?" Yangyang whines, shielding his ears with his palms to protect them from more tmi, though you huff out a laugh before leaning in to pinch his cheek.

"Yangie, you're so silly! Anyway, he'll be here soon, open the door for him when he's here, yeah?" You pad his head before turning to storm off to your room.

"Who?" Yangyang's brows furrow at the lack of knowledge he has regarding the situation. As if on cue, the doorbell rings. You squeak happily, then go to open the door for Renjun who stands there looking handsome as ever.

"Hi," he smiles, body decorated with a huge binder in his arm, a bag crossing over his torso and a small suitcase in his unoccupied hand. He looks breathtaking as always, and you almost forget to let him inside.

"Renjun!" It sounds from Yangyang who finally built up enough curiosity to sneak up on whoever just entered your shared home. Renjun smiles and waves at him as he rids himself of his coat and shoes. You can do nothing but watch in awe at how someone can look this enticing hanging a piece of clothing to a wall. Yangyang does not waste a second before wrapping an arm around Renjun's shoulders to drag him away.

"Where are you taking him?" Your brows furrow as you grab ahold of Renjun's wrist to stop him from going anywhere, ignoring the rush of excitement flowing through you at the feeling of his body's warmth.

"Thought you wanted to go masturbate," Yangyang bites back with a dirty grin. He always acts like a mess on mornings, but apparently it's all been an act, he seems to be able to throw you under the bus just fine.

"He doesn't know what he's talking about," you speak sweetly to Renjun, guiding him with you to sit at the table, but not before throwing Yangyang a dirty look. Renjun seems a bit taken aback, but generally grown accustomed to your continuous bickering.

If this was a movie, there would be a montage of studying clips with energetic rock music playing in the background right now. Of you chewing on your pencil, Renjun pointing at an equation in the book, explaining stuff with a serious expression and you nodding along. You scribbling away on a sheet of paper furiously, Renjun pinching the bridge of his nose while shaking his head. You throwing your pencil through the room in defeat before placing your head on the table top with Renjun patting your shoulder. Yangyang on the couch deeply invested in his Nintendo DS, occasionally picking his nose. Renjun motioning his hands in the air as you squint at him and nod. You showing Renjun how you managed to solve the equation, but Renjun presses his lips together. You screaming, claw-like hands shaking in the air as hot tears wet your cheeks. Renjun standing up, his own hands in his hair, panicking. Yangyang munching on a piece of toast which goes down the wrong pipe causing him to cough violently. The sun moving over the sky before being replaced by the moon at a sped-up pace, implying that these moments were happening over the course of multiple days. You sniffling, wiping your eyes every few seconds as you write something down again with Renjun nervously biting his nails and pacing around the room. You handing Renjun the paper, your hands shaking, and Renjun's eyes going wide, a smile forming on his lips. You screaming and cheering, jumping up and down celebrating, the sudden noise causing Yangyang to jump and fall of the couch.

"I'm going to the toilet," Yangyang announces, "don't wait up."

"Okay, ha-"

"I'm going to poop! Jesus, have you ever heard of privacy? You guys are so nosy," Yangyang whines before exiting the room. Renjun throws you a questioning look that you do not see, only sense, as your eyes are focused on the numbers and letters on your sheet of paper.

"He gets stressed when a costumer of his Style Boutique isn't happy with the item he chose for them," you briefly explain.

"Oh, so that's what he's been playing for the past two days?"

"What did you think?" You mumble, tongue catching between your lips as you punch the keys of your calculator until it finally gives you the answer you longed for.

"I don't know actually. Good for him," Renjun smiles.

"He's trying to get to the platinum level at the fashion contests right now."

"Sounds dedicated."

"I'm done! Check it please," you draw out the last syllable to sound cute, and if your brain wasn't filled with purely maths, you'd probably cringe at yourself right now. Renjun grins and takes the paper from you. Going through the lines, he keeps nodding, and you bite your pointer finger over your folded hands anxiously.

"Well, except that the answer is plus and minus 3, you managed to get everything right," Renjun beams, scribbling a little smiley next to your answer. You clap your hands in front of your chest, feeling relieved. Your heart beats a little faster as you watch Renjun flip through the pages.

"Okay, this one is really hard. If you get this right, you're definitely acing this topic," Renjun explains, the tip of his pen quickly drawing tiny little dots next to the exercise on the papery surface of the math book.

"I can do it," you nod and high five him before diving in.

While your nose is buried in your notes, scribbling away furiously, Renjun anxiously leans back. Yangyang reenters the room, locking eyes with Renjun who smiles nervously.

Yangyang grins, eyes darting to your hunched over form at the table, tongue stuck between your lips in upmost concentration, then back to Renjun, and he wiggles his brows teasingly. Renjun, innocent as he is, tilts his head in confusion. Yangyang stares at your form again, eyes widening purposely before doing the same while looking at Renjun, then he purses his lips to mimic a kiss. Renjun stares blankly ahead, still not getting it.

Yangyang groans silently before dramatically pointing at you with both hands, then to Renjun, before balling his fists and thrusting his hips into the distance between his hands, then halting and staring at Renjun intently.

Renjun blushes profusely and looks away.

Yangyang chuckles dirtily.

That makes you look up, "what?"

You notice Yangyang grinning and Renjun looking ready for the ground to swallow him whole. "Don't worry about it," Yangyang says grinning evilly before flopping back down on the couch, miscalculating the distance and almost tumbling back off.

Renjun gulps, you notice, and smiles at you awkwardly. You shrug and get back to calculating. Renjun is sweating, nervously gazing at Yangyang who is back in his Style Boutique, then at you as you write down something on your sheet of paper. Renjun notices the way your lashes curve softly, and how you slightly puff out your cheeks in concentration, and he can't help but recall the moment a minute ago, and what Yangyang was implying.

"I am sweating buckets," you inform everyone in hearing radius, and it's true. There are pearls of sweat running down your back right now, party because the next one and a half hours are going to determine the course of your enter life, and partly because, as well established by now: Renjun.

"You can do it," Renjun says full of energy, having woken up extra early to send you on your way into the exam, both of his hands on your shoulders, shaking you lightly, "repeat after me."

"I can do it," you say, trying to sound determined, as a bypassing student accidentally bumps into your arm as they enter the classroom.

"Yes!" Renjun nods, gazing softly into your eyes, his soft smile faltering a little as you gaze back into his eyes, your gaze unmistakably flickering down to his lips as he is standing so close. You gulp and nod, forcing a smile.

The awkward tension lingers in the air for a bit before another student bumping into you rips you from your daze.

"Maybe I should-" you say, clearing your throat, and Renjun nods.

"I'll be rooting for you," Renjun smiles, waving as you turn around and enter the room, sending him a last nervous, tight-lipped smile before disappearing in the midst of other nervous students.

Not really knowing what to do with himself, Renjun sits down on the floor across the room, scrolling on his phone and checking the time bi-minutely. He falls asleep soon after, and if he could see the way he is sitting from a third person's POV, he would be concerned for the state of his neck.

A loud smack on the top of his head with a playboy magazine wakes him up.

Immediately in fight mode, he takes the pose he learned in self defense class, but he soon realizes it's just Yangyang.

"Hello Romeo," he teases, plopping down next to Renjun far too carelessly for the solidity of the hallway floor, and Renjun halts briefly to worry about YangYang's tailbone, but he seems just fine. Yangyang seems to have no problems showing off his porn magazine as he openly leaves it laying on his lap.

"Hello Yangyang," Renjun replies briefly, forcing himself to look at the ceiling as to not lock eyes with a pair of boobs.

"What's ya fine ass doing here?"

Renjun vaguely gestures towards the closed door of the room you're currently taking your maths exam in. Yangyang's eyes follow his hand, grinning deviously as he finally rolls the playboy magazine up and stuffs it into the side pocket of his cargo pants.

"Waiting for your girlfriend, huh?"

"She's not my girlfriend..." Renjun mumbles, blushing.

Yangyang pokes his side obnoxiously hard, making Renjun tilt his body to avoid a bruise. "C'mon... it's obvious."

Renjun shifts in his seat, clearly uncomfortable. Yangyang was never one to be bothered by that.

"You like her, don't you? It's hot to you that she's as dumb as a bread," Yangyang grins, and after receiving a questioning look by Renjun clarifies, "a German expression."

"I... maybe I like her... she's funny and... sweet and... pretty smart except for maths," Renjun shrugs timidly.

Yangyang blinks at him, "agree to disagree... anyway! You should totally shoot your shot."

This time, Renjun blinks wordlessly, then after a moment says, "I don't think she even likes me."

"Are you joking?!" Yangyang shrieks, causing a few heads turn towards them, but he pays them no mind. "She's literally been head over heels for you since like 1947."

"We weren't even born then... my parents weren't even born then," Renjun points out.

"Dude," Yangyang comes unnecessarily close, "trust me. She's dtf!"

Renjun blinks, unfamiliar with the acronym.

"Oh my God, am I the only person familiar with slang? Is math really all you do?" Yangyang shakes his head in disbelief, and as Renjun opens his mouth to protest, to inform Yangyang that he, in fact, has various hobbies that have very little to do with maths, and besides, that math provides a lot of fun activities, like sudoku, but Yangyang stops him, "doesn't matter. She," he halts, rolling his eyes at the forced lack of euphemisms and exaggeration, "likes you."

Renjun does not seem convinced.

"Look, I'll give you my pair of Air Jordan 4 Retro Kaws Sneakers if I'm wrong," Yangyang says seriously.

"Why would I want your worn out shoes?"

"For God's sake!" Yangyang rubs his hands over his face, "why are we friends again?"

"Well, we met on vacation in 2017 and you said "on fleek, Chinese bros for the win," and you wouldn't leave me alone after."

"Chinese bros for the win," Yangyang repeats proudly, making Renjun glance around in embarrassment.

In that same moment, the door opens, revealing your figure sneaking out. With a glance at the time, Renjun immediately has a bad feeling about this. Not even two thirds of the time have passed since you entered the exam room, and from experience (of others, he himself has never had an issue with any exams), Renjun knows this usually doesn't end well.

You spot both boys sitting on the floor and step over. Renjun has never been more unable to read someone's emotional state. Hence, he gets up, preparing for the worst.

"And?" He asks hesitantly. In response, you shrug, informing them that you'll get the results an hour after the exam is finished. Renjun sighs, not a big fan of this uncertainty, but what choice does he have? Bribing the professor to look over your exam first and let him know whether you passed or not? ... that's not legal, right?

Three pairs of eyes are anxiously trained on your iPad screen in the middle of the table. Well, one pair of eyes, rather, since your eyes are fixated on how pretty Renjun's nose looks from this angle, and Yangyang is unmistakably scrolling on TikTok.

"Can you refresh again?" Renjun basically begs, gaze catching yours. He looks so distressed that it seemed as if he was waiting for his own results to come in. Well, in a way, he is.

Just as the clock strikes, you refresh the page, and a new email shows up. You gulp, glancing at Renjun who seems to be sweating buckets as he picks at his cuticles anxiously. Even Yangyang has abandoned his phone on the table, watching with interest. Hesitantly, your finger hovers over the email.

"I can't even look," Renjun brings out, covering his eyes with his birth marked hand. You take a deep breath before opening the document. A bone chilling screech emits from your throat, and no one is sure as to what that means.

Renjun, hand still covering his eyes, shrieks, "what??"

You grab onto his wrist and pull his hand away from his face, grinning widely "56%!"

It takes a moment to register in Renjun's brain, but then his jaw drops, the corners of his mouth pulling into a huge grin, "56%!!"

Confused, Yangyang watches. 56% isn't really that much...

"You did is!" Renjun cheers, getting up at the same time as you, wrapping his arms around your waist without even thinking and spinning you around happily.

"We did it!" You correct him with a happy grin, cheering along with him as you celebrate. Yangyang raises a skeptical brow, but his face contorts in slight amusement. The according to Yangyang slightly cringe celebration goes on for a good while before you seem to be calming down.

Renjun's eyes gaze deeply into yours, "I told you you could do it..."

"This was mostly your work, honestly..." you whisper back, gulping a little as you shamelessly stare at his lips, watching has his tongue wets them, Another quick look into Renjun's eyes and your lips crash into each other, hands frantically pulling the other close.

"Oh wow," Yangyang comments, shocked, but not surprised, grinning dirtily as he pats himself on the shoulder, fully convinced that he is to take full credit for this.

Renjun's lips feel so soft and perfect against yours that you fear you will lose consciousness if this continues on for much longer – not that you mind. It's as if all these weeks of pining, dreaming and wishing were not in vain. Completely tuning out Yangyang's speech about how he knew all along, you and Renjun lose yourselves in your own little world, tongues too shy to dart out just yet.

You finally part after a bit, slowly opening your eyes to stare at each other with what could only be described as the beginning of a love that will bloom beautifully. Renjun clears his throat awkwardly, but he can't help but smile softly as you gulp and timidly bite your lip.

"So..." Yangyang announces, snapping you out of your trances and making you both look at him, "when can we expect babies?"

"Yangyang..." Renjun groans defeatedly, and you grab your slipper off your foot to hit Yangyang with it, who laughs menacingly as he tumbles off his chair and takes off into his room, but not without another comment, "name one after me!"

© 2024 YUTASBELLYBUTTONPIERCING all rights reserved — please DO NOT translate, take, nor repost any of my works.

[softstarlite]

The Casualty of Love

CHAPTER 2

Summary: He's back home. You have almost forgotten how warm his eyes were and how big your crush for him was.

Warnings: Age gap (Javier is 40 and reader is 27), talks of baby loss, talks of pregnancy, angst, cheating, mentions of cancer, mentions of death.

Rating: +18 (not explicit)

Word Count: 2.9k

Chapter 1 / Masterlist

A/N: here you go guys!! Second chapter is up!! I'm feeling so much better from my stupid cold. I would like to keep a schedule with posting, my goal is to post at least one new chapter every week but I had a cornea transplant less than 5 months ago (I still have 14 stitches on my right eye) so sometimes I need to rest my eye from screen time or the pain sometimes gets too bad and I need to rest in general, so I don't know if I'll be able to meet my goal every week, sorry in advance. I hope you guys like this new chapter!! <3 <3

Divider by @saradika

Javier wipes the sweat of his hands on the front of his jeans for the fourth time in the last hour since he started getting ready to go to Maria´s house, he looks at his reflection on the mirror, he can feel fear engulf his body, fear of disappointing Maria, he wasn't the same man he was when he left for Colombia. That day…

His mom, Alma, had been diagnosed with lung cancer four months before it happened, when Lorraine had told him that she was pregnant, he was shit scared, how could he be a father? He didn't know anything about being one, he was only 27, he assumed that he had at least 5 or 6 years more before even thinking about having a family of his own.

He didn't hesitate to get on one knee and proposed to Lorraine, part of him was happy that his mom would be able to meet at least one of her grandchildren; the doctors had already prepare them for the worst, the cancer was very aggressive, and even if his mom was still young, only 44, they had detected it very late.

The night before the wedding Lorraine showed up at his parents ranch, crying her heart out. They were sleeping in different houses since it was bad luck to see each other before the wedding. He got really worried, he didn't believe in that tradition, she had been the one very keen in doing it so it was already rare that she had showed up there unannounced but even more that she showed up crying.

“Lor? What happened?” he had been sitting on the front porch when she appeared, he got up from his seat quickly and headed to her putting his hands on her cheeks “What is it Lor? Is the baby okay?” he asked her with so much worry in his voice.

Lorraine only kept saying sorry and shaking her head no again and again. “Please baby, tell me what is happening, are you hurt?” he pleaded her.

“I'm sorry Javi… I'm so sorry… There´s no baby…” she said, not able to meet his gaze.

“What? Baby…” he could feel tears in his eyes already, he thought that she had lost it, he never would've thought that she had done what she did. He tries to make her look at him ¡. “Baby…Lor, look at me. Baby it's not your fault, we need to take you-” he was interrupted by her.

“No, Javi… There's no baby, there never has been a baby…” she took a step away from him, feeling shame in what she had done.

“What? Lorraine, this is not funny… Stop it” that was the only possibility in his head, she must have been pranking him, she would never hurt him this way, she loved him, right?

“I'm so sorry Javi, baby…” she tried to reach for him now but he didn't say anything and just walked inside without a word.

The next morning no one could find Javier, until his mom saw a little note on the kitchen table where he had written that he had accepted the job with the DEA in Colombia that the rest could be explained by Lorraine.

You were only 14 when you were sat down by your mom and Alma and got the news about her sickness, that was your first heartbreak, but definitely not your last. You loved Alma like a second mother, she was there when you said your first words, she had been the one encouraging you when you took your first steps… You couldn't imagine a life and a world without her, without her smile or her kindness… No, it had to be a mistake, the doctors mixed up some papers and they gave her the diagnosis of someone else, she couldn't leave you…

When Javier left, you weren't given the real reason from the adults around you, they told you that he and Lorraine weren't together anymore and he had to go work in Colombia, that was it. Obviously, living in a place like Laredo you heard the truth very soon, and felt heartbroken all over again for him, as big as your crush for him was, when you saw how excited he was when he talked about anything related with the baby in the weekly dinners your families shared, it filled your heart to see him just happy, so you couldn't understand how Lorraine had been able to break him like that, she said that he loved him and wanted to spend her entire life with him but then do that? How can you be so cruel to someone that you supposedly love?

A year later from Javier´s move to Colombia, Alma passed away, you only remember crying for three days straight without even sleeping. You remember your mom telling you that “Javiercito is coming for the funeral, he'll be here tomorrow morning”, then the next thing you remember is been dressed in all black, that made you think that Alma would´ve hate it, then not been able to see the casket through the tears and the last thing you remember of that day was how Javier had put his arms around you, caressing your hair and telling you how much Alma loved you and that would never leave you. It never did, you could feel her love everyday, in little things like the chirping of the birds outside, the warm sun, the little desserts you would bake with her recipes, etc…

That was the last time you saw Javier, when you were 15 and crying for the biggest lost in your life.

He parks his truck on Maria´s driveway and gets out with a nervous sigh. After he knocks on the door twice, you open the door with a big smile, fuck, he thought you wouldn't be here. He didn't have a problem with you being here, on the contrary, he was very happy when he saw you the other day, it had been way too long without seeing you. But the problem was that you had grown up… And fuck, did the years had treat you amanzingly. You were a full on woman now, and he didn't like that, because it made his body feel things that it shouldn't. If Maria or his own father could read what had gone through his mind since he first saw you a few days ago, he would definitely be six feet under.

“Hey! You're here!” you say with that big smile on your face. He doesn't say anything, just nods and gives you a tight smile back.

“Come in!” you move a little to give him enough space to come inside. “Mom is still cooking what must be her twentieth dish” you chuckle. He slips inside but you hadn't anticipated how broad his shoulders were so he bumps one of his shoulders into you.

“Oh, sorry” he apologizes and you can't help but feel a million goosebumps all over your body. “She shouldn't have trouble herself…”

You shake the feeling away, you weren't a stupid teenager anymore. “yeah, tell that to her” you smirk knowing he would never dare.

He walks to the kitchen with you behind, he remembers the way as if no time has passed, as if he hadn't gone through more than a decade without putting a foot in this house. When he makes it past the arch of the kitchen, he sees your mom, her back facing him, he can see the grey conquering her whole hair. For a moment he can almost see his own mom beside her cutting some vegetables.

Seeing his silence, you decide to clear your throat to make your presence known to your mom. She turns around starting a sentence that sounds like a question about who was at the door, but as soon as she sees Javier there, before her, her mouth shuts and she freezes. Knowing they'll need a moment, you walk around them to the stove to continue to stir whatever dish your mom is making now, so it doesn't burn while they catch up.

“Javiercito!” she almost screams, launching herself into him, a hand on the back of his head and the other arm across his back.

“Maria…” is all that he can get out of his mouth, apart from the biggest breath out that he has ever let out. He didn't even know that he was holding that breath for so long.

“Déjame verte bien mijo (Let me get a good look at you, my son)” she pulls away from him and pushes him a little back by the shoulders, then looks him up and down like she was examining that he isn´t missing anything.

“Ma, esta bien, no le agobies (Mom, he's fine, don't bother him)” you say from the stove, not even looking at them.

“¿Bien? (fine?) Have you seen him? Está demasiado delgado, gracias a dios que prepare suficiente comida. Siéntate, mijo. (He's too skinny, thank god i´ve prepare enough food. Sit, my son) I'll bring you some food right away” She says, patting his cheek and signaling with a hand to the kitchen table, then she goes back to the stove and replaces the place you were filling.

You chuckle and shake your head in disbelief. “Do you want something to drink, Javi?” you ask him while opening the fridge to get a beer for yourself.

He talks again after feeling overwhelmed by the situation. “Sure, whatever you´re having” with that you pull out another beer for him and after uncapping them, you hand him one. “Thanks” he says, not meeting your eye.

You sit across from him on the kitchen table and take a sip of your own beer. Your mom puts a bowl of Pozole in front of each of you, and while you eat, she and Javier talk about a million things, how things around the house had been since your dad died, how you and her go to Chucho´s every now and then, how you help Chucho everytime the fruit trees need harvesting (which brings a blush to your cheeks when Javi asks if that's right and looks at you), and of course your mom starts to let Javi know about all the gossip he has missed in Laredo, which by his face, he couldn't care less to be honest but i guess your mom didn't want to pick that up. He just nods and hums while eating, while your mom tells him about how the girl from the Gonzalez´s was seen in the local theater every week casually talking and giggling with the guy working there; after a bit something pricks his ears, specifically when your name is mentioned.

“And you wouldn't believe all the commotion that it caused , pff, nos tuvimos que quedar en casa varios días antes de que ella se atreviera a enseñar la cara (we had to stay at home for a few days before she was brave enough to show her face)” she says while picking up both of your bowls to bring to the sink. You don't know where to hide in that moment, you couldn't believe your mom was telling him about that.

“Ma…” you say, trying to make her drop the subject. She obviously doesn't want to catch your desperation.

“What? Sorry i was lost in my head for a moment” he says not realizing that you don't want the subject to be brought up.

“Ay mijo, te estaba diciendo (i was telling you) about how she used to go out with the Lopez´s boy, Diego, and she heard from Doña Lucía about him and a girl, that no one knew, been seen in Jacinto´s ice cream shop, then she decided to confront him that same day, but she instead saw him and the girl on the town square just there,” she makes a dramatic gesture with her hands like she was physically pointing at them right there. “just sitting on a bench, muy acaramelados los muy sinvergüenzas (very lovey-dovey, those scoundrels). Doña Lucía told me that she just took the lemonade in the girl's hand and threw it to him, allí delante de todos, ¿tu te crees, mijo? (in front of everybody, can you believe it, my son?)” she shakes her head in almost disappointment.

“Well, if I'm honest with you Maria. Creo que le hizo poco, yo le hubiese dado un buen puño” you can see how his hands become fists, and his jaw becomes more tense. Javi feels a fire inside of him that he hasn't felt since he left Colombia, he already knows that if he crosses paths with Diego Lopez, he won't be exactly kind towards him.”Wait, he cheated and you had to hide at home?!” he asks, now looking at you.

“I didn't hide, she did” you say pointing towards your mom, who's washing the dishes, with your head. “I was just going through a breakup like a normal person” you shrug your shoulders to try to take some weight off of the conversation.

He nods, understanding now the situation. “Good, you shouldn't feel embarrassed, it's his loss” he huffs “He must be as stupid as he was when he was a kid” he says more to himself than to you, it makes you blush again.

“Javier Jesús Peña!!” your mom scolds him from the sink, turning her head towards him. Javi for a moment feels like a teenager again, being scolded by Maria and his mom for saying a bad word in the kitchen of Pena´s ranch while they make empanadas.

“What? No podes defender al desgraciado, hizo daño a nuestra vampirita (you can't defend that bastard, he hurted our little vampire” he chuckles sincerely now. You gasp at the mention of your old childhood nickname he gave you for being obsessed with the book Dracula when you were 9 years old.

“You don't want to play that game, Peña” you challenge him, squinting your eyes at him, but a little smile in your lips betrays your facade. He laughs with his whole belly now, throwing his head back. You decide right then that you like seeing him laugh sincerely a lot.

After some hours of more delicious food and banter, Javier informs you that he needs to go back to the ranch before his dad comes looking for him for leaving him all day alone with the chores.

You walk him to the door, his arms full of mountains of tupperware full of leftovers that your mom had insisted him to take for himself and Chucho.

You open the door for him since he has his hands occupied, those hands that you´ve been stealing glances to all day, you wonder how rough they would feel around your own hand, around your neck, around your- “Thanks for um… everything” he says interrupting your thread of thoughts.

“Don't mention it” you give him a shy smile, like he could´ve read what you had been thinking. Next thing you know, your mouth is working by it´s own mind, you ask without thinking.”Are you going to the barbecue at Doña Lucia's house this Sunday after church?” when you realize how eager your voice sounds about the prospect of seeing him again in less than two days you add “I believe she invited Chucho the other day, and i'm sure she did it in person with the sole purpose of having you at the barbecue and confirm the rumors of you being fully back home” you chuckle trying to play it cool, god you felt like you were 15 again, drooling for him.

His dad had told him about the gathering but he wasn't planning on going, but now, seeing the slight spark your eyes got when you asked him about his possible attendance, he couldn't think of a better plan for Sunday. “Yeah, my pops told me the other day. I take you´re going too?” you nod with doe eyes and he can't help his eyes for going down to where you tongue tips out of your mouth to wet your lower lip, he gulps and can feel a drop of sweat going down his spine; his mind wondering how you tongue and your lips might feel against his own, against his neck or his chest…

Your mom suddenly yells your name from inside the house. “Dani is calling you, mija!!” you both can hear her voice coming from the living room where the telephone is.

“Dila que voy ma!! (tell her i'll be right there mom!!)” you yell towards her, turning your head over your shoulder, then you turn towards Javi again. You guys keep looking into each other's eyes for what feels like a second and an eternity at the same time until you decide that if you don't stop it, your mom will come over and ruin the moment even more. “I'll see you on Sunday then?”

He nods and then does something that makes you melt into a puddle of water into the ground, he kisses your cheek and with a breathy and deep whisper wishes you a good day to then turn around and walk to his truck on the driveway. You can't help but to stay right there frozen with your heart going way too fast and an almost shocked expression, watching how he puts the leftovers on the passenger side then gets behind the wheel and drives away; it isn´t until your mom calls your name again that you defroze.

Next chapter

[princesssmars]

one last night

a five hargreeves x reader

its the end of the world. might as well make the most of it.

wc: 2.001

contains: fluff, angst, and swearing bc theyre all gonna die. five being a lovable grumpy shit. in my head five is physically the same age as aidan bc look at that mf and tell me hes 13 PLEASE.

a/n: the new season broke me so im writing this and reading fics to cope. i wrote it confusingly but the hand grab dance scene is based on that scene from the end of bridgerton season 2 bc kates eyes...i need to bring a man down with doe eyes like that fr. anyway hope yall enjoy.

.

well. this is it. the end of the world. the last days of your life. not how you imagined you'd go out, to be honest. you put the chances of dying during a commission assignment at about 98%. frankly a little low.

but you’d always been a little optimistic, so the remaining 2% went to your own personal fantasy. that maybe, one day, you'd retire from the commission. maybe use a briefcase to settle down somewhere of your choosing and live out the rest of your days in peace. and maybe, you would live out those days with your best friend. and, maybe, if you really wanted to push it, he'd turn from best friend to something more.

but that dream doesn't matter anymore, does it? you, along with your partner and his family had made the fuck up of a lifetime and created a kugelblitz - the end all of everything. its almost funny. how you'd given up most of your life to "fixing the timeline" just to end up ruining all of them.

hilarious.

so, here you are. in a shittily-lit hotel room getting dressed for a quickly put-together wedding at the end of the world.

god, how your life has changed.

you hear a knock at the door, saying a silent “come in.” to whoever stands behind it.

a soft smile graces your face when you see five enter the room. he stops a few steps from the doorway as he observes you, likely noticing how you'd dressed up more than usual. "you sure clean up nice, hargreeves." you tease, smiling as he does.

"well, you don't look half bad yourself." he takes in more of your outfit, looking you up and down. you feel your face heat up.

"a genuine compliment from the five hargreeves himself? it truly is the end of the world."

"im a man who tells the truth, you know this better than anyone." he keeps walking until he stands next to you, automatically raising his head so you can fix his tie.

"even when people don't want to hear it." you give him a knowing look as you do his tie for him. he knows how, but likes how you do it better. he likes to pretend you don't know.

"especially then."

when you finish fixing the tie, you smooth it over and run your hands over his vest. you look him in the eyes to see him already looking at you with an emotion in his that you can't quite place.

you want to ask him how he feels. about what happened when you went to the commission and saw everything you'd ever known just gone. about never getting longer than a day to just rest. about your impending doom.

about you.

he opens his mouth to speak but you both startle as a sharp knock sounds from the door.

you look over to see a slightly awkwardly standing viktor, who moves his hands to his pockets after gesturing to the hallway.

"hey, uh.. its time for us all to head down, the ceremony is about to start."

both of your lips purse into awkward smiles as he stands in the doorway for a few more seconds before exiting quietly.

its silent for a few more seconds as the two of you stand there. the moment has passed. yet again reminded of your fate.

he looks at you again with a soft yet slightly sad smile. "well, my dear, are you ready to face our imminent doom while getting stupidly drunk with my family?"

you laugh slightly at his dry delivery and grasp his hand in yours.

"ready as i'll ever be."

.

.

.

the ceremony is sickly sweet, perfect for the match-up that is luther and sloane. the way they look at each other during their vows pulls on your heartstrings. but you have to remind yourself that you're happy for them. there's no point in being jealous or sad now.

after the ceremony, you and your merry band of heroes make it to the dance floor, with you and allison heading straight to the drinks table. you watched her as she downed her glass in a few seconds, feeling bad at the state of the woman who you've come to know as a close friend. but if you were in her position you would have gone off the rails long ago. a voice in the back of your head tells you you have.

the reception is lovely, and the bride and groom very much in love despite the weirdness of it all. and the fact that they choose to prioritize and focus on their love rather than the apocalyptic events happening just outside…it gives you a sense of hope.

when reginald gives his speech it's safe to say everyone in the room is stunned. you've barely gotten to know three variations of the hargreeves patriarch but you know that he's far from a pleasant person. during late nights doing paperwork at the commission you and five would share stories about your respective childhoods, with his being as dark as you expected from the stand-offish man. but it felt nice to know that he trusted you so deeply.

after the initial reception, there's some downtime for everyone to indulge in the surprisingly above-average food from the hotel's bar and restaurant. you get yourself a plate before sitting at a table near the back of the room, silently eating and drinking and observing the family around you.

you're interrupted by lila pulling out and sitting in the chair next to yours, sitting sideways to look you dead on.

“would you please stop with the puppy dog eyes and make a move on that little turd? seeing the two of you dance around each other has made me sick for years.”

your voice sputters as you try to come up with an excuse, having not expected the girl to call you out so brazenly. she raises her eyebrows as she knows she got you stuck and you let out a sigh.

“it wouldn't matter if i did. even if he felt the same we’re all going to die in a day's time. and id rather not spend this last day with him awkwardly.”

“so you're going to die wondering? never knowing if he liked you back? and i thought i was dumber when it came to relationships.”

“that's still debatable.”

“hey!” she lightly punches you in the shoulder, laughing at your slight wince. “you know im right. not to get sappy but… it's much better when they know how much you care.

as she speaks her gaze wanders over to diego and you have to hold yourself back from rolling your eyes at the sight of their barely hidden lovesickness.

you were close to brushing off her comments again when her arm quickly juts out to knock into yours, lifting her chin slightly to the left. you turn your head and none other than five stands beside you, his hands stuffed into his jacket pockets before one comes out to lay flat in front of you.

“would you care for a dance, y/n?”

with his abnormally soft smile (and lila’s not-so-subtle jab to your other arm), you accept his offer and gently place your hand in his so he can lead you to the dance floor. you can’t help but notice how there's a slow song playing and the only other couple on the dance floor are the newlyweds.

he turns from leading you to standing right in front of you, the closeness taking you by surprise. he smiles at you, moving your hands to wrap around his arms as his go around your waist and shoulder.

“a waltz? seriously? you always seemed to hate those at the company dances.” you tease.

“probably because gertrude wallhaven would always try to dance with me.”

“she just had a little crush on you. lots of the women did. you were the five hargreeves, after all.”

five smiles at your words, starting the slow dance that you know by heart. “is that a bit of jealousy i hear?”

you scoff and roll your eyes. five always was a tease when he drank. “you’d like it to be, wouldn't you? ever the conceited one.”

he huffs a short laugh, swinging you around quickly so you do the same. “well, that is one reason.”

“and what may be the other one, if you would be so kind as to inform me.” you smile up at him, the alcohol starting to take an effect on you and cause you to become more open than usual.

“that I'm deeply in love with you and its been driving me crazy-ow!”

your mind is completely blank for a few seconds before you realize that not only have you stopped dancing but you that you also just crushed five’s foot with your own.

“oh my god, five, im so sorry,” you quickly trying to apologize and help your struggling partner. he stands up as straight as he can, slightly bent on his right side as he waves your worries off.

“peter donahue always did say you had a killer stomp on the dance floor. now i can see why he kept going to the infirmary.” five gives you a strained smile, taking your hands in his again.

“just another one of my many talents.”

you both restart your dance, this time with no words shared. five occasionally tries to hold eye contact with you, and you make sure to avoid it every time. you don't know what to make of his confession. if it was heartfelt or a spur-of-the-moment confession that was given since you would all be dead within a day. you knew as soon as you looked into his bright eyes you would crumble.

but five knew that like he knew everything about you. he took your hand and grasped your fingers together before bringing your arms above your heads and bringing them down between you, and you cant help but stare into his eyes as he does the same.

“please tell me you meant it. because if you didn't then i don't know what i’d do.” you plead, grasping his hand to your chest.

“do you remember that mission in bali, where we had to terminate that guy who found a cure for cystic fibrosis? we there for maybe two hours and you kept complaining about the heat.”

“it was a steady 80 degrees and we were wearing commission suits, of course i was miserable.”

“im aware. it was when we finally killed the guy and you took some of his cash to get some better clothes and you somehow managed to convince me to come down with you to the beach. we were sitting in the sand and it was annoying as all hell but you seemed so happy that i couldn't even complain. and i just knew.”

your chest tightens. “knew what?”

“that i loved you. that i still do. and that i’m an idiot for waiting so long to tell you. guess our impending doom and the cheap liquor finally gave me the courage to say something.” he finishes, holding you close as you stand in the middle of the dance floor. you know some of his siblings are bound to be staring because of the close display but you can find it in you to care. all that matters is that you finally have the love of your life in your arms, even if just for a short while.

“not to be pushy but i haven't heard an “i love you” back so im getting pretty worried over here.” five jokes, staring at you with love but worry in his eyes

you laugh at five’s joke, bringing your lips to his cheek to give him a short but sweet kiss. “i love you too, partner.”

“good. now, what do you say we get drunk off our asses and have the best night of our lives with my dysfunctional family?

you smile. “i couldn't ask for anything better.”

.

.

[pouringoutmythoyghtsbefore1drown]

JJK MANGA SPOILERS AHEAD:

3

2

1

i found this in my notes app and was like yeah i could post it. why not?

(BELOW)

My vision of what Megumi might say if he wrote a eulogy for Gojo and was probably mega sleep deprived:

I don’t think he’d willingly make any sort of public speech. this is quite ooc. Though honestly I think Megumi would agree with some of these points i don’t think he’d actually verbalise them. but fuck it. He isn’t real anyways lmao.

Gojo Satoru is not ‘The Strongest’. He was I guess at some point but not anymore because… well… he’s dead. I think Gojo would appreciate some jokes in this speech thing… but comedy and public speaking are two things I’m not great at and generally avoid so bare with me.

Gojo was a teacher, a mentor… whatever you want to say his job was he was really shit at it because he was so good at everything that teaching anything step by step was almost impossible. Somehow, he did well enough since i’m here talking to you guys and you guys are here listening.

Gojo, in general, pissed me off and I made sure he was aware of it. He was annoying in a sibling way. An older brother who was better, faster, stronger. He wasn’t around much when I was younger and calling him a parental figure would be a lie since when we first met he was basically as old as i am now. which is… weird… very weird… because back then he was an adult in my brain.

Knowing what I know now… about Gojo and my biological father as well as reflecting on what Gojo would call ‘Megumi’s Teenage Angst Era’, I’m surprised I didn’t end up the same way as my father.

(Megumi has to actually try not to laugh here. No one else finds this funny but Yuji gives a forced awkward laugh because he feels bad.) (Maki probably laughs a bit)

For some reason, this overpowered guy who could literally have the world do what he pleased because no one could stop him decided to be a teacher. What a dumbass? Seriously. Or… I mean… I guess I’m a dumbass for not seeing how much he chose to do to help us. Not only us as a collective, but as individuals.

I don’t really know what else to say except the fact that he cared. Do you know how important that is? When you’re a kid and no one gives a shit about you and you’re alone it sucks and it’s scary but then some tall dumbass with stupid white hair comes into your life and you can’t get rid of him… no matter how hard you try. A guy who can’t really cook or take you to school in the mornings. A guy who sometimes appears at the apartment you live at that he payed for. A guy who somehow manages to show up when you need him. No matter how hard I tried to push Gojo away he was always just… there. Well… not anymore but you get the point.

It’s quiet without him. That’s the biggest difference. I enjoy silence. I like being alone and by myself and I definitely make that clear to everyone I know. Gojo obviously chooses- chose to ignore this. It’s stupid… but sometimes I expect him to pull a stupid stunt and pop out of a box saying it was all a prank. I feel like he’s just one hallway away from disturbing any peace and quiet that settles over the rubble we pretend isn’t around us. But he’s not. He’s dead.

(Megumi becomes aware that he is actually speaking out loud in front of a group of people and not just to himself. He quickly gets back to the rough script he has on the scrap paper before him)

Gojo made so many of us feel like we have a purpose in life. Because when no one else believed in you he’d always make that infuriatingly stupid smirk and then say something equally as annoying and wise like ‘the only thing holding you back is yourself’ or ‘i know you have potential’ or even just ‘you’re doing great. keep going’. Honestly, it pissed me off because he was usually right. Not that i’d ever admit that to him. Not that… not that i really can admit it to him anymore.

Im tired. We’re all tired and I hate public speaking. I hope you didn’t expect me to go on about his achievements or whatever because then I think you either don’t know me or you never knew him.

[galaxycunt]

I Can’t Keep Crying pt 3

Pt 1 Pt 2

Quick lil note to say I love every comment I been getting on my stuff and ilysm kissing u all mwah mwah it really makes my day

Story under the cut: angst only rn

You shared a cigarette on the deck with a crew mate, watching Buggy from afar. Sometimes if it was cold, he used to lend you the coat he was wearing right now. What a fool he made you out to be.

”Captain’s let his bird fly out the cage finally?”

”Oh, shut the fuck up.”

He only laughed, “Cabaji gets his sloppy seconds, you could do worse.”

You flicked the butt in his face, storming off below the deck. Before all this, Buggy was teaching you how to throw knives. You decided it was perfect time to imagine the empty barrel was his face.

You could think of a hundred reasons for why Buggy was bad for you, but the good times popped up. His laugh, the real one he seemed to save just for you. The way he’d protect you during a raid, shoving you downstairs in a hurry yelling at you to hide. Letting you watch his shows from the catwalk, his eyes shining brightly in the spotlight as he looked up at you.

It wasn’t romantic for most people, but things were different on the sea. After a raid on a village, he kept a small box close with him. He hid away from the crew, only coming out when you said you didn’t want to eat dinner alone. He had his moods, he was soft around you. He never told you what was in there, only his mood giving a hint to what it was. Closer than what anyone else got.

”Needs work, thank god you’re not my first wave of defense,” said a voice behind you.

”Is there more to be done, captain?”

He smiled, “nah. Just wanted to see what you were up to.”

You looked him up and down, “nice necklace.”

”Eh, gonna hock it next time we dock somewhere. Can’t figure out what put in it anyway.”

You forced a smile, “I thought even pirates loved their mama.”

“Now that’s funny.”

You nodded politely, turning to leave. Buggy stopped you, his brows furrowed like he was struggling what to say.

“I didn’t…know that..well, I don’t have to really explain myself do I?”

”Excuse me?”

”Lemme make it up to you, steal a table at Baratie, dine and dash. Something fun and exciting!”

”What? No, I’m not doing that.”

He frowned, “aw come on, you’re not turning legit now, are you?”

You smiled, “I’m not doing that with you.”

Hurt flashed across his face for only a moment, “you did it first you know.”

This confused you, having no idea what he was talking about. You sized up your captain, he was a stubborn bastard.

“I don’t know what you’re referring to, so I doubt it.”

”Go clean the head.”

”You’re seriously giving me cabin boy duty?”

He nodded, causing you to groan. He smiled satisfied, he was going to make you regret sleeping with the boss. If that was how he was going to act, you were going to make him regret it too. Cabin boy was easy to pay off for shit duty.

”I’m sure there’s a way to convince your captain differently, if you wanted to be persuasive.”

Buggy stepped closer, bumping into your chest. His breath smelled of whiskey, his aura pulling you closer. It was like that when you joined his crew, amused instead of angry that you tried stealing from him. Buggy had a way with people, making them stay. You knew better.

”You don’t like me Buggy, simple as that. You made it clear more than once.”

He was at a loss for words, letting you walk away as he stood there. You held in your tears until you reached your room. The worst part about being on a ship was the lack of privacy. In your dreams, Buggy would proudly proclaim his love for you, in front of the whole world. Instead of letting you hover around him, the crew would judge you, yet you didn’t get special treatment when it came to chores.

He did give you his cabin to be alone in, and that was something you wished you had now. You cried softly, face down in your pillow. What did he mean earlier? What did you do first?

You heard your name called, ignoring it.

“You okay?”

It was your friend, petting your head softly. You gave a thumbs up, rubbing your face like nothing happened. She smiled, giving you the mug of coffee in her hand. The ship was set to sail for a small village, peaceful and full of gold. You chatted about the show, what your friend had planned.

“So what’s your plan?”

”I’ll probably still run the lights and curtains.”

”No, about him.”

You sighed, “he’s a grown ass man, he won’t apologize and I’m not gonna coddle him. We’re pirates for fuck’s sake.”

Surprisingly, Buggy still allowed you to run the lights. In the middle of the ring was the mayor, bound and gagged as Buggy made his grand entrance. He was nicer when the show ran smoothly, a little more willing to let people live.

And your mother had much bigger plans for you and your life.

Buggy glanced up at you, winking as he tortured the mayor for the key to the bank vault. He was still very handsome, sexy when he exerted his power over others. The gasps from the audience reminded you of the first time you saw his powers, it was intoxicating.

You used this opportunity to sneak away, heading towards his cabin. You weren’t sure what you wanted to find, his room was messy as always. You had some clothes left behind, deciding to take a pile. You searched around for your locket, not remembering if he kept it on today. The accordion was still in its case, you took that one too. If he was going to punish you for stealing your own things, so be it.

Realizing you never had the whole ship to yourself, you pushed your luck, snooping in his personal items. Sealed letters from someone, the name sounding familiar. Under a pile of scarves was a small box, you wondered if the locket was inside. Were you still willing to steal that damn thing from him?

You decided against it, running to your room and back to the tent before anyone noticed. You stood in the back, watching the show. The crew was probably going to stay here another couple of days, Buggy loved his adoring fans. You could escape if your luck ran out.

The show ended, Buggy noticing you near the entrance, he smiled and let you go on your way with the rest of the crew to drink. His words entered your mind again, what imagined transgression against him was he thinking of?

The crew liked putting on a small show for themselves, your friend waving as she flipped through the air. You’d miss this crew if you had to leave, Buggy couldn’t ruin this for you. You smiled, hoping to let this whole thing blow over.

You heard your name bellowed out from across the tent, Buggy marching straight toward you. The rest of the crew adverted their eyes, he was on a warpath.

You stood up straight, “yes, sir?”

”You were in my cabin. What did you take? Treasure? A map? Money?”

“My clothes. I had clothes there,” you stuttered.

He glanced around the room, “my cabin. Now.”

You nodded as you’re hurried past the crowd, embarrassed and slightly afraid. Thankful he wasn’t about to air out your relationship failures in the open. It didn’t mean anything good either way.

Buggy spun around as soon as the door closed, angry to the brim.

”You stole from me.”

”I…didn’t.”

”Yes, you did.”

”The accordion? I only took my things back.”

He waved around his room, “oh! Is that all? Nothing else? Nothing in that desk?”

You shook your head, of course he’d find out. You didn’t take anything, your only saving grace.

”I was looking for my locket,” you held up your hands, “I’m not stupid, Buggy. I only take what’s mine.”

He searched your face, the wind blowing out of his sails, he believed you.

With a laugh he shook his head, “you’re gonna be the death of me. Swear to god.”

With a nervous smile, you tried to leave. He still stopped you, lightly grabbing your arm. His eyes were filled with an emotion you couldn’t place, unsure if he could either.

“I would like to hear a song, if you’re willing to grant an audience. That’s how I’ll forgive you.”

You smile, “I’ll be right back then.”

The words slipped out so easily, the way your body moved too. You played in your youth, something you did to pass the time on long voyages. On your last ship, it was lost in the wreck. You couldn’t find a reason to get it replaced, feeling like you had no need to. You only told him about it once, in an inn months ago while you bathed together. He liked your singing, not surprised that you always been some sort of artist your whole life.

That day was when you realized you were in love with him.

“Captain?”

”Come in, I was just uh, setting the mood, I guess.”

The cabin was dimly lit, a sheer red scarf placed over a lamp. He held up his hands, motioning you to sit on his chair. You giggled, covering up your nerves.

“Any requests, captain?”

”Oh you can call me Buggy, and uh. I dunno, dealer’s choice.”

You could only remember a song partially, singing a song of a woman left at the altar on her wedding day. The notes were fumbled, your foot tapping next to his, he hummed along not knowing the lyrics.

You had a good time despite yourself, smiling as you made up a song on the spot. You could remember simple chords, singing about the woman from the previous song taking to the sea to cut her fiancé’s head off. Buggy laughed hard at that one.

“Beautiful!”

You smiled, “thanks, Bug.”

You got up to leave, Buggy stopping you again. He held his breath, thinking of something to say.

”You don’t have to leave so soon do you?”

He looked so sad, so lonely. You were certain it had to be projection on your part. He held out a hand, letting you place your fingers gently on his palm. You were in love with an image, one he displayed in full before you. You had doubts, and that was reason enough to leave.

”I can’t. I really can’t.”

He only nodded, letting you take your things with you. As you closed the door you hear him release a shuddering breath, matching the sob you were holding in yourself.

[that-one-anxious-mango]

You + Me = US (1)

Summary: After a shocking discovery is made that you decide to keep to yourself out of fear..you realize your secrecy may be doing more harm than good.

Content: BIG ANGST. Reader feeling sad and conflicted. Appearance of a friend. Argument and Tension between Austin and reader. Tense and sad Austin. Just all around Angst. 

A/N: Hello Beautiful humans! I hope you’re all well. I know this is something I hadn’t planned out putting out so soon. But seeing as ya’ll wanted the first part of the juicy angsty story I mentioned so bad..this is it. I hope you all enjoy because..yeah. Much love. *hugs*

P.S Please Always feel free to comment, reblog, and send me letters about the fic and anything else pertaining to the series!  And also let me know to be added to the taglist! 🏷️

Taglist: @purejasmine , @wacoshuffle

---

So here you were.

One Bathroom Counter

Six tests.

Twelve brightly positive lines.

One Shocked Alana

And one terrified you.

The room was so silent you could have heard a pin drop.

You almost couldn't believe it.

You were pregnant and scared shitless.

Immediately you’d burst into tears while Alana who usually wasn’t one for traditional methods of comfort..did her best.  

From there a hour crying session began until you got the strength to talk.

" Alana what am I gonna do. This isn’t suppose to be happening right now. Not n-now." You sniffled out hanging on to your friend tighter.

This was bad..no scratch that...it was terrible timing.

You had just finally broken some ground at work and was finally feeling like your contributions were being used. Austin was riding the high of Elvis and had also just finished filming Dune part 2. Not to mention you'd only gotten engaged not even three months ago and hadn't been in the new condo two good months...which you'd been literally going at it like rabbits in.

But still, everything was flowing just the way it needed to flow, and something like this was certain to disrupt it.

" You're gonna have to do what you need to do, babes. No matter what you need to take care of you first above all else." Alana offered.

Looking at her with red eyes you asked, " What would you do? "

Mirroring you back with a face of stone Alana was hesitate to answer because in her mind.. you may not have wanted to hear her true opinion. 

She replied, " Honestly."

Taking a breath you nodded.

" Well...."

—-

It'd been almost a month since you'd found that you were pregnant. And it had not been a easy ride. Between the fatigue, constant nauseous feeling, tiredness, and the task of doing your best to hide all signs of the minimal morning sickness from everyone.

You were exhausted.

But still the only two souls that knew were you and Alana.

And as much as you wanted to tell Austin and everyone else...you weren't ready.

Immediately when you stepped inside your home you smelt the delicious scent that carried through the air along with the soft jazz music you could hear from the kitchen. When you entered you were greeted by a enthused Magnus who did his everyday duty of administering your daily dosage of puppy kisses. After you went to the kitchen.

" Hey, mama. Been waiting to see you all day." Austin chirped from his post at the stovetop. He looked to have been making Fajitas and yellow rice, one of your favorite things he made, but  your stomach didn't jump at the sight of them like they normally would.

" Hi. That smells good, babe." You responded slowly inching toward the living room faking a smile. Really the closer you got, the more you wanted to gag. It smelled so funny.

" Thanks. I figured it had been a hot minute since I'd made it and I know its a favorite of yours. I thought we might eat this for dinner then maybe we could finish another chapter of the book we got Saturday upstairs."

You just nodded, " Yeah, Aus. That sounds nice. I'm gonna go lie on the couch for a little bit though. Feeling little tired." You informed.

Austin had to hold back the sullen expression that wanted to form and instead replace it with a small smile, usually whenever he cooked you were perched right on a seat at the kitchen island chattering and giggling. But as of recent that hadn't been the case and Austin would be lying if he said it didn't bother him.

" Okay."

From there the two of you had dinner as normal making little small talk here and there. Mostly work talk and little about plans for the summer the two of you had made which now made you said since they might not be feasible with the new information of your...condition.

Post dinner Austin let Magnus out to potty before you both ventured upstairs with the happy hound following where the two of you separately shower and change to then got in bed and Austin took his turn to read.

Feeling actually tired you let him sort of cuddle you with his unoccupied hand on your back while your head rested on his chest and your legs were intertwined.

Seeing that the book was a romance once you'd hit a certain part of the chapter it'd gotten..spicy . And with the two of you particularly in a enclosed space like your bed, it wasn't shocking to you when Austin decided to make a move.

He'd leaned in and grabbed your face pulling yours to his in a sweet kiss. A kiss that you couldn't help but naturally blend into. This was the most action the two of you had seen in a while. He was enjoying being this close to you. He drank in the scent of mango and vanilla that came from you and savored the soft of your skin on his fingertips. 

Gaining more traction without breaking the union Austin had managed to to set the book aside on the nightstand while maneuvering to hover over you. Everything was okay until you felt a hand move from caressing the top of your breast down to brush the top of your stomach.

Startled you abruptly pulled away alarming Austin.

" Whoa. Hey you alright? What's the matter? " He questioned searching your face.

Putting on a poker face you nodded, " Yeah I'm fine, babe. Just..do you mind..." You trailed silently gesturing for him to move off.

Obliging instead of just rolling over, Austin got up from the bed standing to look at you. You couldn't quite pin-point what he was thinking, but from his expression it was clear he was bothered.

" Y/N what's going on? Is it me? Have I done something? "  He asked.

Shaking your head you scooched off the bed moving to stand, " Of course not, Aus. Why would you think that? It's fine. I'm fine." You said feeling a whoosh of anxiety enter your chest.

" Well I honestly don't know what you want me to think, baby. I mean as of late every time I come near and try to hold you , you move away from like I got the plague. We haven't had a date night in three weeks because you always keep saying you're too tired or busy. Whenever I'm home and I cook dinner for us you don't wanna even sit down and eat with me." Austin poured looking at you with pleading eyes. " It feels..like you don't want me around most days."

Your eyes began to water hearing his outpour of concern and neglect. 

“ That’s not true, baby. You know I want you around all the time.” You tried assuring.

You hadn’t meant to get this way. You felt terrible. Like a monster. You'd never meant to make him feel this way.

A bitter laugh left him, “ I can’t tell.” 

Looking at you he could see that you felt bad and once your tears began rolling,  he felt his eyes begin to feel moist.

" Baby...." He dragged out trying to keep the strain against his voice small, " We're not even making love anymore. The last time you let me touch you was almost a month ago. A-and before that we could barely keep our hands off each other." He painfully pointed out thinking about all the passionate love making the two of had been doing. You used to joke around with him and tease that he had to be part energizer bunny because he never needed a recharge.

But nonetheless it was true.

You'd been avoiding him, and tucking yourself away while you tried to figure out what you were going to do.

Doing little things like wearing loose clothes even to bed when he knew you preferred to be near naked most times. When he'd offer shower with you, you'd always politely decline brushing it off as you were just going to be in and out. You put space between the two of you when you watched shows or ate dinner. Austin had taken note of it all, and while he had been trying to give you some space and be supportive. But he feared he was at the end of his rope.

But still you couldn't find the voice to say anything back to him, and this unfortunately heighten his emotions so bad that he said the unthinkable.

" You know what cut the shit, Y/N! " Austin sighed placing his hands into his face. " Who is he? " Austin accused feeling like you'd just been struck in the chest.

" E-excuse me." You gawked in disbelief at what your fiancée was shockingly insinuating. He had to know better than even letting a passing thought like that enter his mind.

" You heard me. Who is he? " He repeated with more attitude. " Because whatever you're not getting here you gotta be getting somewhere, right? It's Lucas isn't it?" He sourly threw out the name of the name of your friend who'd been helping with your photography classes you'd enrolled in. The same Lucas from the night at Alana's party that had tried to get extra friendly with you. “ You’re fucking him, aren’t you?” The words thrown out like venom.

You felt you heart race prompting you to rest a hand on your chest as you tried to calm yourself down. But no much how much steady breathing you practiced, it wouldn't help stop the tears that began cascading down your face, " Austin...H-how could you even think that. No! There isn't anyone else. Not Lucas..not anyone!" " You choked out in disbelief full on crying now.

Raising his head to look at you he sighed, " Ah hell, Y/N." He mumbled in discontent at seeing you cry the way you were. He hated when you cried. " I don't know what to think at this point! This isn't like us. This isn't like YOU."

You nodded feverishly trying to calm down, " I know...I-I just don't feel like myself, Austin." You half confessed being sure to leave out the major components of why.

" Okay, I understand. And I absolutely hate that your feeling that way. But I can't help you if I don't know what's going on. Can please you tell me what's wrong. I wanna be here and help you. But you're shutting me out. Please." Austin pleaded looking at you intently, all he was asking was for something..really anything that you could tell him to steer him in the right direction. Because right now he felt lost.

Biting your lip to the point of near bloodshed and twiddling your thumbs you contemplated just spilling your guts and telling him right then and there, but the little voice in your head agonizingly sniping at your thoughts wouldn’t allow it.

If you tell him now it becomes real. And there isn't anything guaranteeing that he'll be happy. I mean you told him about your childhood, why would he want someone damaged like you to raise a child with.

Who would want you as a mother?

Feeling like the walls were caving in you just barely spoke, " Austin. I want to....But I can't.... I just can't."

The words had come out.

And now you had to painfully watch as his face fall at your response. It was like you could see a little embers of hope die behind his eyes, and it broke your heart even more to watch as he sniffled up what would have been a stray tear.

When he responded his voice sounded taut, " You know when we first started dating and we played that game with all the questions. And I asked you to describe our relationship in three words. One of the words YOU specifically picked was honest." Austin reminisced reminding you both of the happier time. He took a second to breath until his glossy eyes met yours in a intense lock, " W-when did that change?"

Once he finished, he then proceed to back away from you softly wrenching the bedroom door open, he casted you one more look before closing it behind him.  Leaving you to shakily lay yourself down on the bed and wrap yourself in the covers to ensue in a good old fashion sob out.

That night for the first time since the two of you had gotten engaged and moved into the loft you'd sleep alone in your king size bed. You heard when the guest bedroom had opened and closed. This only made you cry more.

You felt cold. And not just because the usual warmth Austin gave off holding you in the night wasn't present, but really because it was as if you were standing in the middle of nowhere with no shelter and no place to turn.

You felt alone.

In the wee hours of the morning while your fought yourself in and out of sleep you'd heard the bedroom slowly creep open. With your back to the room you listened as he moved about the bathroom and the closet in what you knew was him getting ready for the interview line up he had today for some of the precursors for award season.

You so badly wanted to turn around and call out for him. Apologize and explain everything a thousand times over. But still it felt like your body physically wouldn't move.

When he came out the final time, you could hear him come to his side of the bed and put something on the duvet. He sighed before turning around and back out the door closing it softly behind him. The alarm chime could be heard soon after and that's when you knew he was gone.

Slowly pulling yourself up to turn around. You hit the toggle for the lights and looked at the folded note that sat on his pillow.

You'd be laying if you said that your heart didn't fall to your ass. Was he leaving you?

Numbly you grabbed the note bracing yourself to take in it's contents.

Then you read it,

Dear Y/N,

I know that I already told you that I'd be out for most of the day today but I also wanted to let you know that when I get home I'll be retiring to the guest room.

I don't exactly know what's going right now but I just feel like I'm putting in so much effort into this relationship as of recent only to receive half of it back. And as a couple who recently got engaged..this worries me. I understand that you have a tough time opening up about certain things bothering you and that is completely understandable. But just what I don't understand is why your pulling back from opening up to me after all we've been through in two years of progression.

With that being said, for right now I think it'll be good if we just take some space. Hence why I'll be staying in the guestroom for a couple of days. Unless you're ready to talk in some type of honest capacity or there is some type of emergency, I ask that you please respect this boundary for the time being.

I love you, Y/N. And I know we can work at this and overcome whatever is going on.

But I badly need you to try.

I'll still be home in time to make dinner as normal and I'll leave you a plate in the microwave.

All my love always, forever, and beyond,

Austin.