#i really cant resist angst can I

[rinzay]

What if Frisk didn’t survive the fall? What if the body was too damaged to inhabit a soul in? Souls are powerful things, creating a body from the magic around. Souls have limits, and cannot stray far from their original body. Monsters were freed from the underground, but I guess Asriel and Chara wont be alone this time.

[vaugarde]

i know i said before that the show insisting that there’s this ideological divide between battling and catching pokemon was really dumb, but man i do think they had something with goh being so put off by battles. he’s an introverted guy who prefers isolation, and he’s never properly done a trainer battle, he’s got fresh new pokemon who didn’t fight much- and his new friend entered him in this big shot tournament, surrounded by thousands of people, without his knowledge or consent, and so he gets swept by someone with a lot more experience, and so he gets completely and utterly humiliated. you can clearly see how upset he is later on and i think it does make sense for him to resist battling where he can cause he’s afraid of that same humiliation. if he battled in a more private setting with someone on his level, i don’t think he’d have been so resistant after this. and it was interesting to see this part of him clash with scorbunny later on, who got more interested in battling but wasnt allowed to do it as much.

it’s too bad the writers forgot about that though lol

[onlygarden]

[when i look at you, i cannot find you.] - yang jungwon

genre: angst/ comfort

description: when jungwon's behavior towards you suddenly becomes hateful, you start to wonder where your precious boyfriend went.

a/n: this was a hard write i cant even picture jungwon treating someone like this omg

your head perks up as you register the sound of your front door unlocking, and your heart plummets to your feet as you watch jungwon walk in. it was strange for your body to react so despondently to your boyfriend’s arrival; his usual beaming expression (which beamed even when he wasn’t smiling) and glimmering eyes always painted any room with the most cheerful of colors. he was always so infectiously precious, filling any space he occupied with an indescribable warmth that touched all your senses. you normally couldn’t resist the enthusiasm that welled up inside you when he came home, springing yourself towards him and wrapping your arms around him as your heart bloomed even further with admiration for your lovely little garden. his recent actions were much more prickly, which justifies your current unmoving position on the couch as jungwon aggressively slams the front door behind him. 

he’s done that a lot recently, you think. he’s developed a habit of performing any action aggressively; placing objects down with great force, slamming any door he opened, yanking drawers open with a certain roughness. when you first acknowledged his behavior, he snapped at you, telling you to give him some space (almost in warning, it seemed). you obliged, and although you were shocked by his words, you weren’t particularly hurt by them. you figured he would confide in you about whatever was bothering him when his anger subsided. you were certain he would apologize to you for speaking so harshly, as well. but before you knew it, an entire week drifted by, and your beloved jungwon only seemed to descend further into his rage.

your thoughts are interrupted by the sound of the silverware drawer being flung open. the sudden clanking sound startles you, since you’re still not accustomed to this sort of behavior from jungwon. he must be preparing a meal for himself, you think. you lightly consider approaching him and telling him to rest as you prepare a meal for him, but that inkling is quickly erased as you hear a loud sigh escape his mouth, followed by the loud slam of a cup onto the counter. 

you knew better than to annoy him further, remembering how he reacted last time. however, you couldn’t ignore the desire to ask him about what was burdening him. his behavior was far too uncharacteristic to just ignore, and you didn’t want the supposed anguish he was experiencing to get any worse. it bothered you a bit that he refused to discuss it on his own. then again, maybe you should’ve encouraged him a bit and reminded him that he could confide in you. 

you prepare yourself for the irritation you’ll be greeted with, and you begin to walk towards the kitchen. when you enter, jungwon is opening a bottle of beer, but his expression concerns you. his brows are furrowed intensely, and his lips flatly form a line on his face. what’s bothering him so much? you think for the hundredth time this week. 

“jungwon,” you start, placing your hand gently onto his arm. he tenses under your touch, and his gaze pierces the sight of your skin against his. you swiftly retract your hand, and he roughly drops the bottle opener onto the counter. he places his hands onto the edge of the surface, gripping tightly, and keeping his head low. not allowing his actions to discourage you from getting to the bottom of his behavior, you continue. “can you please tell me what’s bothering you so much? you haven’t been yourself at all, and i’m really worried about you.” 

he closes his eyes briefly before turning his head to meet your gaze. his dull eyes give you goosebumps. you couldn’t find any semblance of joy or delight within them. the normal adoration his eyes held for you was absent, too. he suddenly lets out a bitter chuckle, causing alarm to rise within you. 

“so you ignore me all fucking week, and now you have the nerve to tell me you’re worried about me? fuck off.” 

his deep, hushed tone caught you off guard more than the possibility of him shouting at you. above all, his sharp accusation that you’ve been ignoring him demands your full attention. the boy that cruelly dismissed your concerns pinned the blame on you for ignoring him. it just didn’t make any sense. in truth, he drove you away.  

you furrow your brows slightly, giving him a puzzled look. “are you serious, jungwon? you told me to give you space just a few days ago, and now you’re accusing me of ignoring you? i figured you would come talk to me when you were ready, but you just kept bottling it up. which is exactly why i came to you today.” he rolls his eyes at your words, then turns away from you, closing his eyes. you watch as his frustration with you seems to grow, and you cannot figure out why. 

“was it something i did, jungwon? is that why you’re so upset?” 

god she’s so annoying, jungwon thinks. he scoffs, turning to face you again. 

“‘was it something i did jungwon,’” he mocks you, spitefully matching your tone. raising his voice slightly, he continues, “give me a fucking break. you spend all this time everyday waiting desperately for me to come home, and you don’t even do anything useful while i’m gone. you just sit here like a fucking lump,” he remarks. 

you stare at him in disbelief. “what the fuck? do you hear yourself? i do every single chore around here just so you don’t have anything to worry about. even though i have a job too, i try to think about how tired you are when you come home.” you defend yourself, surprised at his blatant dismissal of your efforts. 

again, he rolls his eyes, almost completely ignoring you. 

“when i am home, you barely give me any space to breathe. did you ever stop to think that maybe you annoy the fuck out of me.” 

he turns his entire body to face you, his tall figure looming over you. you remain in the same spot, intimidated under his fixed stare. 

“you’re a lot to fucking deal with, and i need you far away from me.” 

with that, he grabs his dinner, and trudges past you in the direction of the living room. you hear him turn the TV on. 

you want to believe that jungwon is lying. he normally never even thinks to speak to you this way. you know something is terribly wrong. he keeps contradicting himself, ultimately looking for any reason to direct his rage onto you. but tonight, you decided you were too tired to find out. he was already angry and spouting harsh words at you, and you weren’t particularly eager to hear more. even if he didn’t actually mean what he said, it still hurt, and you needed time to recover. 

a sudden laugh emerges from jungwon. you assume he was laughing at something from the show he was watching. your body tensed up at jungwon’s sudden switch to such a casual mood. god, you really felt like you were sharing your home with someone new. how could he laugh so playfully after the way you just argued? has he already stopped thinking about the heartbreaking words he said to you moments ago? 

your eyes open lazily, and your body lifts itself from your sleeping position shortly after. upon noticing the vacancy beside you, you assume jungwon fell asleep on the couch last night. as you make your way down the stairs, you notice that jungwon has already left. 

as the evening approached, you busied yourself with yours and jungwon’s laundry to keep your mind occupied. he would be arriving home soon, and you were honestly afraid. there was no way to predict the way jungwon would feel towards you lately, but he was usually mad. even if he didn’t come home immediately mad, he would eventually grow upset over something you did, and you never knew just what would set him off. it was difficult to keep your obsessive thoughts at bay. jungwon’s words and actions kept blaring inside of your head. the more you pondered your argument from last night, the guiltier you felt for solely blaming him. maybe i am a bit pushy, you think. before he suddenly changed, jungwon would happily agree to give you all his time whenever he was home. maybe he truly did start to feel smothered by you, which led to him lashing out in such a cruel way. guilt begins to consume you at your belated realization. maybe he was only upset with you because you didn’t realize how you were suffocating him. 

the sound of the door unlocking snatches you from your thoughts. the door didn’t slam as jungwon closed it, and that gave you a glimmer of hope. maybe his mind was being kinder to him today. 

“y/n,” he shouts gently. “where are you, noona?”

‘noona.’ jungwon’s favorite way to refer to you, and it felt like an eternity since he last called to you in such an endearing way. you find yourself thinking of how adorable he is. 

you smile a bit before answering. “i’m in the laundry room, wonnie.” 

you hear a series of quick footsteps, and jungwon’s distant voice quickly grows closer. “look baby, i really wanna-”

he stops in front of you and stares at you, and you only catch a glimpse of his cheerful face before that dreadful expression you’ve been seeing too much of lately returns.

you look up at him as he scans your form. you quickly try to figure out what you could have done to cause his smile to drop so quickly. he sighs loudly, and briefly closes his eyes. 

“take it off,” he states plainly. 

what? 

“take what off?” you ask hesitantly. 

“you’re wearing my hoodie. it doesn’t belong to you. take it off.”

you almost thought he was joking. but with the way he was behaving lately, you’re sure he must be serious. jungwon is somewhere in there, but you’ll calmly comply with this monster until he was ready to come back, you decided. you felt guilty for thinking of your boyfriend that way, but the way you were being treated didn’t even slightly resemble the way your boyfriend normally treated you at all. 

you take it off slowly, left in the tank top you were wearing underneath. jungwon sighed at your leisurely compliance with his request, snatched his hoodie from your hands, and tossed it into the laundry basket in front of you. 

“from now on, leave my stuff the fuck alone,” he says, “don’t fucking touch anything of mine. it doesn’t belong to you.” 

he turns around, leaving you there, and heads up the stairs to get ready for a shower. jungwon normally wants me to wear his clothes, you think. you quickly shake the thought. there’s no rationalizing jungwon’s actions right now. he’s not in a normal state of mind at all. you don’t know what he’ll be upset about next. he could even come out of the shower perfectly content, acting as if nothing ever happened. it would be nice if he acknowledged his harmful behavior, but him pretending nothing happened certainly beats him growing irritated with you for another groundless reason.  

if there’s one thing you’re certain of, though, it’s that you’ve had nearly enough of this unusual side of jungwon.

as you begin plating the dinner you’ve prepared, you hear your bedroom door open. jungwon must be done with his shower. 

he enters the room, his beautiful face free of any sign of despair. you want to say that you’re relieved, but the sudden changes in jungwon’s mood are far too alarming. anything you’re doing could upset him. 

he looks at you, and you feel your body tense up. you watch as he walks closer to you, offering you a small smile. 

“it smells really good, noona,” he says gently, placing a hand on your lower back and kissing your cheek as you continue to plate dinner. 

there it was again. you’re not foolish enough to be deceived by his kindness towards you, just for him to bring you crashing down with another fit of hatred. it hurt you to see him this way, and it hurt that you were thinking of him this way, but you needed to protect yourself somehow. 

“dinner’s ready,” you tell jungwon, watching as he grabs his plate excitedly. you sit across from him at the dining table, watching as he stands up to grab something from the fridge. 

he returns with a beer in his hand, and you’re hoping it won’t sour his mood. 

“jungwon,” you start. he places his full attention on you, eyes shining and eyebrows slightly raising as he nods his head in anticipation of what you’re going to say next. you almost smile.

“am i,” you hesitate a bit, but he encourages you to keep going. “am i smothering you? is that why you’ve been so irritable lately?” 

his eyes leave yours for a moment before returning. 

“no, baby. you’re not.” he says calmly, but he completely ignores the second part of your question. 

“then why-” you watch as jungwon brings his bottle of beer to his lips, quickly finishing what remained. 

you watch as that awful expression returns to his face, and you start to wish you never asked the question. he sighs and rubs his hands over his face, and you start feeling guilty for even being in the same room as him. you begin to feel like your presence alone is worsening his burden. he stands up to clean his plate, and you watch as his eyes fall on the basket of laundry you didn’t fold yet. 

he sighs, tossing his plate onto the counter with such force that his fork bounces off and falls to the floor. he doesn’t bother picking it up. 

you can already feel the tears burning behind your eyes before he inevitably opens his mouth to berate you again. 

“why is this still sitting here? you can’t seriously be this fucking useless,” he rants loudly, just below a shout. “if you can’t even do something as simple as this, i’m not gonna let you stay around.”

“jungwon!” you yell, standing up from your seat at the table. by now, your tears are streaming down your face, and you can hardly speak coherently. you’ve had enough. your precious little garden was wilting, and you had no manner of preserving him. you couldn’t ignore your boyfriend’s behavior for another second. it was like torture; playing along when he would pretend like nothing happened, trying not to upset him even though there’s ultimately no right answer, watching as he transformed into the worst version of himself you’ve ever witnessed and you just couldn’t figure out why. it was all too much. 

jungwon turns to you, his face contorting into an expression of complete anguish. his heart sunk and shattered as an abundance of emotions ran through him, regret being the conquering force. 

“im so confused!” you sob, crying harder as every word of every thought you’ve had this week comes rushing to you at once. you can’t even begin to form a sentence, but jungwon understands. 

he walks towards your crying figure, hoping he could still make things right. what could he possibly say to you now? he reaches out to pull you towards his body, but you pull away from his embrace. he tries to pull your hands away from your face so you’ll at least look at him, but you yank out of his delicate grip. jungwon starts to breathe heavily. 

“baby,” he attempts. he rests his hands on your shoulders, which you don't try to fight. 

your cries calm down, and you finish wiping your face with the backs of your hands. jungwon rubs your arms, hoping to comfort you as he soaks in your expression, realizing just how much he hurt you.  you don’t even look at jungwon as you turn to walk up the stairs, his hands slipping off your arms and falling back to his sides. he watches you in alarm as your frame disappears. 

you walk into yours and jungwon’s shared bedroom, and you refuse to focus on anything other than packing. tears blur your vision again as you hastily throw your personal belongings into your suitcase. you hear jungwon running up the stairs; he stops in the doorframe, watching you in complete shock. jungwon begins to panic. 

he hurries towards you and joins you on the floor, grabbing your hands and begging your eyes to meet his. 

you try to yank your hands away to continue packing, but jungwon makes sure to hold tightly. you still refuse to meet his eyes. 

“noona, look at me please,” jungwon begs, his face decorated with worry and desperation. “please let me talk to you, i need to make this right.” 

you meet his eyes, and his breath quickens at your sudden indifferent expression. “i don’t know you,” you tell him coldly. 

he feels like he could cry. he’s your same jungwon, and there’s nothing he wants more than to tell you that. 

“you’ve never treated me so terribly before, and i just don’t understand.” jungwon feels guilt devour him at your sudden confession. “i didn’t know if it was my fault, or if you were dealing with something inside, but you never told me anything. you just pushed me away and made me suffer.” you feel yourself beginning to cry again, jungwon gently placing his hands on your jaw, and wiping your tears away with his thumbs. 

“baby,” he searches your eyes, “i don’t know whats wrong with me. i’ve never been more sorry in my life. it rips me apart to know that i hurt you.” he squeezes your face slightly, moving his hands to grab yours again. 

“is that all?” you ask, “how am i supposed to know you won’t get irritated with me tomorrow and start treating me the same way again?” you didn’t want to sound so mean, but you just couldn’t keep dealing with this. jungwon’s sudden tendency to behave this way frightened you, and it made you wonder if he would behave this way in the future if you stayed with him.

he shakes his head, looking down for a moment before meeting your eyes with desperation again. “i swear to you, i’ll never leave you feeling like this again. i know i can’t force you to believe me, but please just let me show you. you’re more than precious to me, and i’ll never let you forget that again.” he rubs his thumbs over your knuckles with fervor, trying to communicate his deep passion and longing with any method that he can. 

you look at jungwon. you’ve never seen your cutie boyfriend in such a state of misery before. your heart begins to feel sore as you explore his expression, his posture, his heavy breathing. he still hasn’t told you why. 

“then can you please explain how you ended up like this in the first place?” desperation makes it’s way across your expression, too. “what made you so hateful?” you prod. 

jungwon breathes out, the tension leaving his body. “i’ve just been feeling so drained lately. it’s getting harder to have the same motivation, but i don’t really understand why. it never used to trouble me that i don’t get very much rest, but now it’s starting to take a toll on me. that really bothers me.” he pulls you into his lap, squeezing your frame. “but i never meant to take it out on you, baby. i just didn’t know how to process the way i was feeling, and i let it get out of control.” 

you turn to him, moving his hair from his face. “all you had to do was come to me and talk about it. that’s all you ever have to do. it hurt me to watch you suffering when i had no idea what was going on, and no way to help you. please don’t bottle these things up anymore.” 

“i know baby, i promise that i won’t.” he pulls your body close to him again, beyond grateful that you didn’t leave him, but still guilty that he allowed himself to treat you that way. he can’t imagine how hollow his life would’ve felt without you. he couldn’t begin to describe his gratitude for your tolerance of his seemingly unforgivable behavior. you’re truly such a compassionate and tender person, he thinks. you shine so brightly it makes him blossom so eagerly. 

“i love you,” he says suddenly, sending you the fondest expression you’ve ever received. 

“i love you, too,” you return his expression, grateful that you can finally recognize the gentle eyes that stare into yours.  

he eventually helps you to return all your belongings to their rightful places, and you both return to the kitchen to clean up together.  you watch him as he cleans the dishes for you. he’s so cute, you think. you approach him smiling, and you stand at his side. unable to control the urge, you reach out to pinch his cheek. he fakes an annoyed expression, and you grab his face with both hands squishing him further. “you’re so cute!” you tell him, moving his face from side to side. you giggle when he fakes a snarl, and you let go. “hey,” he says, looking at you with a playful expression as he quickly dries his hands. he reaches his hands out to squish your face in the same manner, “how do you like it? huh?” you giggle and slip away, and he chases you throughout the house, shouting “but you’re just so cute!!!” to tease you.

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

omg i really really love your blog<3 you are such a sweet person and so kind to all your followers and others on here and your writing is absolutely amazing!

i saw ur requests were open and i was wondering if you could write something for poe dameron? a hurt comfort because in your rules you said you wouldn't accept full angst which honestly is so real of you and i completely agree :D its just, ive read so many fics where poe's best friend or squadron member is either in love with him or fwb with him and he starts dating someone and they look rlly in love but then he leaves the person for the best friend and i cant help but always wonder how the person he left is feeling! and i was wondering if you could write something along the lines of this but he doesnt leave the reader and hes not really in love with his best friend or anything im so sorry this became really long but you can totally ignore this or say you cant do it its absolutely alright!<33

thank you sm though and i hope you have a good day!

Anon, thank you so much for such lovely and kind words! You are AMAZING! (Seriously, they have absolutely made my day/week/year!)

This ask has killed me (positive), my subconsciousness had a lot to say, it seems.

Tangerine, Tangerine

Poe Dameron x GN!Reader Rating: M Masterlist | ao3 | want to be tagged?

Warnings: angst (but with a happy ending), thoughts that a partner is cheating, blood, x-wing fight, swearing (not star wars swearing, because even though Kriff is great, I need to say fuck), Moonbeam as a nickname, typos, rail road sentences, please let me know if I’ve missed a warning!

Word Count: 4494

_______________________________________

It was just a kiss. It was just a kiss. It was just a kiss. 

You’d misunderstood, you’d read the situation wrong, you’d seen incorrectly. It was just a kiss. It was just a kiss. It was just a kiss. 

Your radio crackled, “Green Leader, checking in. We’re manoeuvring in 5. Call out.”

“Green Two check.”

“Green Three check.” 

 It was just a kiss. 

“Green Four check.” 

 It was just a-

“Green Five check.” 

Just a-

“Green Six check.” 

Just-

“Green Seven,” you swallow. “Check.” 

It wasn’t just a kiss. 

You patted your helmet twice and rolled your neck, breathing deeply as you settled in. On your left, you could see some of Blue Squadron. 

This mission was straightforward - on a holopad. 

Two teams to escort The Harbringer, the resistance supply ship. It had been damaged by a rogue blast from a tie fighter just as it jumped to hyperspace and had had to make an emergency landing on one of Tre’Ral’s desert moons. 

The crew on board had managed to fix all they could. But without proper materials, there was little chance of the ship making it out of the moon’s thick atmosphere and entering hyperspace. So Blue and Green Squadrons had been dispatched. Blue 1-4 had already made contact, jump-starting The Harbringer enough to get it airborne. 

Due to Tre’Ral’s sun and planet density, the gravity on the moons was a little stronger than most world’s atmospheric pressure. 

Green Leader, Sena, had repeated through briefing at how this would affect flying. How to be ready for it. And she hadn’t been wrong, it was different flying here. Tougher. And you loved it.

You’d grown up on Para, a planet with a high gravity density. You’d learnt to fly there well before you’d flown in space. Being here on this desolate moon almost felt like home. Your movements seemed smoother, precise. No longer needing to overcorrect for your naturally ingrained harsh movements. No longer spinning out and fighting low gravity, finally working with the tide. 

The manoeuvre would see the ships escort The Harbringer out of the moon’s atmosphere and then the rest of Blue squadron would form a sort of 3D star formation around the cargo ship. All jumping to hyperspace at the same time to carry it along with them. 

Simple. 

In theory. 

Everyone had spoken about how practically textbook it was, how easy. 

But then, of course, why was Green Squadron going? 

No one at the briefing had asked, why would they when the answer was so obvious. This part of the quadrant was teething with First Order. With a slow, busted supply ship you were all practically screaming for them to come and play target practice. 

You swallow. 

You should be focusing on that, on the mission. Instead of the utter nonsense that was ricocheting around your head and piercing your heart. 

I hadn’t just been a kiss. 

You and Poe had gotten together clumsily, three months ago, your normal awkwardness drowned out by so much Polanis Red that you almost couldn’t see straight. It had been after the battle of Hurthwen, a nasty dogfight that had everyone hyped up on adrenaline. 

He had been drunk when he kissed you, you remembered that. 

Maybe he had thought… maybe he had believed he was kissing her instead. 

It made a lot more sense. 

Sena was the Green Leader, she was a great pilot. One to be reckoned with. She was kind, she was fun, she was beautiful. She and Poe had joined the resistance together, risen the ranks together. Basically inseparable. Always laughing and joking. She had been in the same squad as Poe, under his command before she was promoted to leading one of her own. 

They had always been close. Always. Best friends. 

Sickness bubbled in your throat. 

You remembered Frizz and Hank talking offhandedly, well before you and Poe were a thing. Both of them sure that Sana and Poe were dating or ‘knocking boots’ as Frizz had so elegantly put it. 

“Two people can just be friends, you know.” You’d said, trying to hide your little crush on the commander. 

“Yeah,” Frizz laughed, “But not them. You seen them together?” 

Hank chortled. 

Nonsense. You’d brushed it off then. Allowed it to creep into your thoughts when it was dark and the base was quiet. When Poe’s breathing was soft and light behind you, his arm around your waist. 

Him and Sana just made a lot more sense than him and you. 

“Yeah, but not them. You seen them together?” 

Yeah. Now you had. 

The Harbringer came into view over the horizon. The seemingly endless stretch of desert was cut through in the distance by a fearsome outcrop of crocks, leading up into a field of formidable mountains. 

Blue 1-4 were already hooked up to the cargo ship, all five hoovering moving together as they flew towards you to meet. 

You wouldn’t have said things were difficult with you and Poe. Well, you wouldn’t have said that before. It was complicated for everyone on the base, most staff were on different call schedules, off-world or on a mission at all times. Having a relationship wasn’t straightforward. There were stretches where you wouldn’t even be on the same planet for days, but…

But you had thought it was…

It didn’t matter. 

You’d gone back to the briefing room, just before take off. You’d wanted to tap the main holoscreen twice, for luck. A little ritual you’d adopted early on. Most pilots were a superstitious bunch. 

That’s when you’d seen them. Sana and Poe. Locked in a tight embrace, their lips pressed together in a deep kiss. 

Your heartbeat had thundered so loud you’d been surprised they hadn’t heard it. But they’d been too preoccupied to notice your presence. 

It was cliche but time had almost slowed, calmed and stretched like the moment you take aim, the second before you fired your ship's canons. 

A flash of the control panel had flickered into your mind when you saw them, your fingers twitching as if you had the trigger in your hands. 

You’d turned and left without a sound. Without a word. Without letting them know you saw. Leaving them to… whatever they did next. 

Was it their first kiss? One of many? Had this been going on well before Poe had taken your hand and led you outside so he could clumsily name all the constellations, making up new ones and backstories to make you smile?

“That one here, you see it?” 

“Yeah?” 

“That one’s the best one, best in the sky. It’s orange and it’s right next to that other orange one, like they’re holding hands.”

You’d laughed. 

“That’s me and you Moonbeam.” 

Moonbeam. That stupid nickname. 

You’d gone to your room quickly, the one that you and Poe shared, and taken off the necklace he’d given you. 

“I want you to wear it for luck, Moonbeam.” 

That stupid smile he’d given you as he’d slipped it from his own neck and onto yours. That stupid kiss he’d given you after. You’d thought that expression was cute when you’d seen it, pure. Now it just seemed like he’d been laughing at you, playing some sick joke. ‘How long can I string someone along?’, ‘how far can I go before they realise it’s all pretend?’ 

You’d left the necklace with the ring slipped through on the small set of shelves in the corner, the one Poe normally kept his holopad on. 

It was idiotic, but your neck felt… empty without it. Cold. Every now and then you touched at where the chain normally lay.A subconscious action only brought to the forefront of your mind by the sensation of your own skin instead of metal. 

Something caught your eye in the distance, a flash of sunlight glinting off the horizon. Dread twisted in your stomach as realisation dawned a second earlier than your scanners. The extra gravitational pressure and high quantity of magnetic metals in the sand affected everyone’s ship computers, causing a brief information delay. 

Your alarm sounded out inside your ship, the radar blinking into life as tie fighters approached from the rock outcrop. They’d used the high mineral concentration to hide their energy signatures. 

“Fuck.” 

The radio screamed into life, orders out pouring over orders. Blue squadron rushed into position while Green scrambled. 

“Blue in place now!”

“It’s gonna be rushed, but we haven’t got a choice!”

“No time!” “Incoming!” “Green half split! Evens left, odds right, let’s keep those fighter’s off The Harbringer and Blue squadron! Gamma pattern!” 

“How far away is the Delta?” 

“Calling in attack pattern!” 

You swing to the right, falling in with Hank and Petal and bank hard, it takes less than a second for you to notice that your squad's movements aren’t as precise and well-timed as usual. The stronger gravity throwing everyone, except you, off their game. 

That didn’t bode well. 

You climb for a second, punching hard on the acceleration to get some height and a clear view of the oncoming and flick on your targeting system. The image glitches, doesn’t hold steady even as you focus. Off by half a fraction. 

Shots fire out from both sides, most missing.

“Targeting not working!”

“It’s out!”

“I can’t get a clear shot!” “The read is malfunctioning!”

“Half a click 4/8!” You shout, as you take your shot, hitting two tie fighters head-on. 

“Good shot Green 7!” You can hear the joy and relief in Sana’s voice. “Half a click 4/8, you’ll all have to manually adjust!” 

You dive, swirling around two fighters before skimming close to the ground, trying to draw their attention away from the cargo ship. You spin, slamming your control harder than you would need to in any other situation as you turn and spike past another fighter, taking out one in the process. 

“Wooooo!” Hank yells over the intercom.

You laugh. “Bet you never thought you wished you grew up on Para right?” 

“Every day new things surprise me.” He banks left, you right, Petal dives down. 

It’s too much of a rush, everything all at once, patterns and shots flying, your ship’s systems screaming as you push the engines a little too hard. 

The tie fighters aren’t moving as fast as they normally do, bogged down even more than the x wings by the gravity. They can’t make their normal quick turns and it’s affecting their strike patterns. 

Good. 

But there’s so, so many of them. 

Explosions fly debris out, and you climb higher. Needing a clear view and unable to rely on your targeting systems. 

More shots fly out, The Harbringer is taking a battering but so far its shielding is holding the hull together. 

The radio keeps screaming, overlapping voices that blur into background noise. You’re trained to only hear your call signal, direct messages. You vear off, narrowingly missing a blast to your wing. 

“-On my tail.” Frizz’s voice cuts through the noise, a sharp stab of dread slicing you open as you turn, automatically looking to the reader, it’s still not clear. 

You climb, twist, fall, see a Green ship, followed tightly by two fighters. Accelsorate, bank. You fire. You’re aiming in a panic now, not adjusting right, not breathing through. 

The shot hits one, before you have to swerve to avoid being struck head-on. 

“Thanks 7!” Cril yells over the speaker, managing to shake the other fighter. 

There’s a scream, a crackle of sound over the system. A sound you know too well. You see the ship crash into the desert, exploding before it even hits the ground as the a tie fighter’s shots hit home. 

Frizz.

“No…” 

“Check!” Sana yells, unable to tell who went down with the system glitching. “Green Leader!”

You swerve around another fighter, everything moving so fast, too fast.

“Green Two check!” Cril.

“Green Three check!” Petal. 

Nothing. 

“Green Four!” Sana yells. No call replies. Balna. Not Frizz. 

The momentary rush of relief at Frizz being alive is cut horribly short by the image of Balna’s kind face that bursts behind your eyes. 

You bank left, right, swerve, take aim, twist. 

There’s a chance, a good chance that you’ll win. All of Blue is in place, The Harbringer is moving up with them. The tie fighters are taking more hits than the resistance, their less aerodynamic design hampering them more than usual with this gravity. 

All you need is…

Another alarm. 

“Oh… fuck.” You slam on your intercom. “Z-Fighter!” 

A chorus of yells answer you. 

A Z-fighter, a quick moving ship a fraction bigger than The Harbringer, with two powerful front guns. A few shots would take the cargo ship out completely. 

And with how slow the supply ship was moving, that wouldn’t be hard. 

The Z-fighter storms in, moving fast but not firing, they were obviously having problems with their targeting too, needing a close clear shot. 

“Take out the main cannons!” Sana yells, the panic in her voice cutting through the chaos. You turn, aim, take out a tie fighter but have to veer up at the last second. Twist. 

Someone comes in after you, aiming for the cannons, a fighter clips their side and they can’t correct quick enough. They spiral off, their ship crashing into the Z-fighter. Obliterated on impact. The Z-fighter seemingly unaffected. 

You loop back, adrenaline blinding you to everything, anything that’s not the goal. Take out the canons. Take out the canons. People are counting on you. Take out the canons. 

You fire, a clear shot before you bank to the side to avoid a direct hit to your hull. 

It’s not enough.

You need to pass again, and again. Other x wings flying in, taking shots, the gravity making them slow, imprecise. Only one blast hits and it’s not full on.You’re the only one hitting directly and it’s not enough. 

It’s not enough. It’s not enough. It’s not enough.

There’s shouting and screaming, the zipping of the fighters as they cut through the sky. Someone yells your name and you don’t hear it. 

Another hit lands. One canon out. Only one left. You can do this. The Harbringer is nearly in the upper atmosphere, they can jump from there. Just a few more seconds. You can do this.

“Black Leader!” Poe’s call sign cuts over the dim, followed by the call signs of half of the Red Squadron.

They must have scrambled after first contact. 

The canon’s powering up, a quick glance to your panel tells you that The Harbringer’s shield is barely functioning. They won’t survive a direct hit. With how close they are and the Blue Squadron ships that are attached there’s no way they wouldn’t be pulled down too if The Harbringer fell. 

The canon needs more than one hit to take it down, more than five. No way you can shoot five times before they fire. 

You twist, full force. Pumping the acceleration. Fire. Fire. Fire. Three hit. You don’t slow down. Fire. Fire. Fire. They hit. The canon is still operational. 

Sana is screaming orders, so many shots fire at the canon, none of them hit right, hit full on. 

Two chances left. 

One to fire. If it takes out the canon you just have enough time to serve up, to avoid getting smashed to bits. 

Poe shouts for you over the intercom. 

You don’t answer.

One to fire. If it doesn’t take out the canon then… then you crashing into it head on will. 

Poe yells again, this time cutting over everyone else, sending you a direct call. 

You don’t answer.

You fire. Hit. 

Poe screams for you, his voice painful and panicked. He’s already worked out your plan before you had even thought of it. 

The canon doesn’t go down. 

You cut the call to him. Blocking out his signal. You don’t want Poe to think you did this for him. 

You don’t want him to think you did this because of him.

“Green Seven!” Sana yells, seemingly knowing what you’re going to do. 

Hank screams your name over the radio. It hurts. You think it’s the worst sound you’ve ever heard. 

“Moonbeam!” Poe’s voice is ripped raw from yells, Sana has patched him through over her signal. You were wrong. That was the worst sound you’ve ever heard. 

You dip at the last second, not hitting the canon straight on but smashing your right wing into it. The force surprises you, even though you braced for it. The impact sending you spiralling. You try to regain control, try to turn into the spin. Training taking over even though you're a wing and half a ship down. 

Shouts over the radio, you barely make out- 

“-cannon’s down-”

“-Jump!-”

A spark hits, your console explodes into flame, shards hit your side and you yell. Sky and sand tumbling over each other over and over, and you manage to hit the eject button.

The force rips you upwards, free briefly from your burning ship. But you’re too close to the floor, not enough time to slow down your velocity. There’s-

.

The impact of the ground hurts. Pain explodes along every nerve despite the ejection seat dampening. You scream. 

Agony is everywhere, everything. You can’t feel anything else, can’t comprehend anything except floods of pain. 

You hit your belt, falling out and to the desert floor. Looking up just enough to gauge where you are, where your ship fell. It’s an exploded, fireball mess far off. At least it’s not an immediate threat. You crawl to the side and sob. 

There’s blood falling into the sand from your head, the right side of your face. You can’t see properly out of your eye and your left leg is definitely broken. Shattered. Still, you drag yourself forward, digging your hands in and pulling as something ribs and tears in your side, warm liquid soaking into your fight suit. 

The resistance will jump to hyperspace, they’ll get out. They’ll make it. 

You just needed to get away from your ejection seat, when the First Order doubles back they’ll see it, they’ll see you. You just needed to get to an outcrop. Hide. 

Make it look like you had a weapon. 

Make them shoot you first instead of taking you for questioning. 

Can’t let them take you alive. 

There's the faint sound of a ship somewhere above, landing gear coming down. 

For a second you freeze, panic gripping your heart, you dig into the sand hard, pull, pull, pull  yourself closer towards the outcrop of rocks. The air seems to be leaving your lungs, your breathing ragged and hot. 

You cough, red hitting the dirt, iron hitting your tongue. 

You crawl, pull. The pain is making you light-headed. You gasp, trying to get in a full lung full of air. It's not enough. It's not enough. It's not enou…

.

When you open your eyes your first thoughts are simple. Clear. 

I'm dead.

You were either shot in the head in the sand or simply succumbed to your wounds. 

But then things begin to feel… fuzzy. Not painful, but not right either.

And that's when you smell the Bacta. And then the light starts to change to distorted shapes, and finally, you recognise Hank sitting next to you.

“You better not be dead too,” you whisper your voice dry from lack of use. 

Hank jumps up, goes to grab your hand and then stops himself. There are tears in his eyes. He softly places his fingers on yours and you squeeze back. 

“You're a fucking idiot you know that?” He grins and you laugh. Which hurts a little, but feels good. 

“One sec,” he moves away just to speak to someone outside before he comes back. “I'm the one that picked you up, you know?” 

“Now who's the fucking idiot?” You smile but your chest aches, heavy with the weight of his words. “You shouldn't have done that.” You whisper. 

“What?”

“You were under fire, you should have just jumped-” 

“I saw you eject. Saw you moving. You think I was just gonna leave you there?” He sits. “Besides, I was closest. The commander would have blown up the whole planet to get to you.” 

You swallow, turning away slightly. Going cold at the mention of Poe. 

Hank mistakes the look for guilt, and squeezes your hand again. “Hey, look,” he smiles, “you took out the canons, you're a fucking idiot but you know how to fly in heavy gravity.” 

You snort. 

He smiles. 

“Who did we lose?” 

Hank sighs, “three…”

You nod, closing your eyes for a moment. 

“There-”

There was shouting from outside, a crash and then Poe stormed into the room, med staff close behind him.

You swallow, sickness building in your throat.

He looked awful, drawn out and worn thin like he hadn't slept or eaten in days. His eyes red. 

He rushes forward, Hank moves out of the way, so Poe can take your hand in his. He leans forward and kisses you softly, carefully stroking your cheek, being gentle with your bandages. 

“Moonbeam…” he mutters and you flinch back from him. He looks at you with sad, confused eyes. 

“Look, I can only allow one visitor in here.” The med staff member says.

Hank stands, and speaks when you frown. “I'll see you later, Poe’s the one that hasn't left your side. The only reason he wasn't here when you woke was because I made him go take a shower.” Hank smiled, “you can thank me for that later.” 

Both you and Poe are quiet as the others leave. Poe searching your face for something, while you look away. 

“Moonbeam,” he says again softly, but there's an edge to his words that you're not used to. “What the fuck happened on that mission? What the fuck is this?” He holds up his hand, his necklace and ring wrapped around his palm. His eyes are shiny as he speaks. “Were you trying to kill yourself? What the fu-”

“Poe,” you breathe. Best to get it over quickly. “I saw.”

He frowns. “Saw? Saw what?” 

“You and Sana, in the briefing room… before take off.” 

The small frown on his forehead relaxes slightly for a moment as his eyebrows raise. “You… saw?” 

You nod. 

“You, but, I didn’t see you when I pushed her away?” His voice cracks at the end, a splinter running into the muscle of your heart. 

“You pushed her away?” 

“You didn’t see that?” He frowns again, blinking hard, “you just, just saw and walked away and what? Took this off?” He holds up the necklace again. A tear falls from his eye and he rubs it away furiously as if it had scorched his skin. “Just, just left it and… and…” 

“I didn’t know you didn’t want it…” You say quietly, emotion is making your chest tight and constricted. “I didn’t know you didn’t want her…”

“What?” He breathes, moving closer and squeezing your hand. There’s disbelief in his voice, confusion. Anger, it’s deep down and controlled but it’s there. “No, look, she kissed me. I pushed her away, I, I even logged a report, I’ll pull up the god damned camera feed to show you.” 

He’s not lying. His gaze is unwavering and he’s got that painfully earnest look in his eyes. 

“You thought…” he shakes his head slightly, his voice pained, “you thought I’d-”

“You both make sense together.” You blurt out. “She’s… and you’re…” you shrug and sigh, on the verge of tears yourself. “You’re both the best of us.”

“No,” he shakes his head fiercely, “Moonbeam, no.” He wipes roughly at his eyes again, glancing down for a moment and you lightly touch his head. 

He looks up instantly as you stroke his curls, still lightly damp. 

“I’m sorry.” You whisper.

Poe shakes his head again, grabbing your hand and kissing your wrist. “I’m sorry.” He kicks off his shoes and clambers into bed next to you a little awkwardly. He’s trying to be careful, trying not to hurt you but needing closeness so badly it’s suffocating. 

You scooch to the side as quickly as you can in your current state and lean into him as he wraps his body around you softly and kisses you sweetly. 

“Love you, love you, love you,” he repeats after every kiss, pressing his lips to every part of your skin that he can reach.

“Why are you sorry?” You mutter as he holds you, “I’m the one that messed up.”

He shakes his head, “I’m sorry that I don’t make you realise how special you are, how perfect.” He kisses your cheek, “you’re the best of us Moonbeam.” 

You tut but his grip tightens and he holds you tight. 

“And one hell of a pilot.” He grins. 

You scoff. 

“You are.” He kisses you again. 

You nuzzle against him, settling into his touch. Knots have formed in your chest, pain that’s loosening. His warmth is comforting. Home. 

“Sana said she didn’t know I was in a relationship,” he says softly, resting his chin on the top of your head. “I don’t know if that’s true, but… I do believe her.” 

You nod. “She’s a good person.”

He moves so he can look you in the eyes. “Please, Moonbeam, I… don’t,” he bites his tongue, closing his eyes for a long second. “I want to tell you, I want to say, don’t ever do something like that again… don’t… don’t put yourself at risk.” 

You touch his cheek lightly. 

“But it’s not fair is it?” He smiles sadly. “We both do that every day… You know you were gonna be in my squadron at first?” 

You shake your head in surprise and he nods.

“You were, but… well,” he blushes ever so slightly. “I was so embarrassingly head over heels in love with you,” he laughs lightly. “For months I could hardly talk to you, you know I had to down five Polanis Red’s in a row after Hurthwen just so I could ask you out? I knew I wouldn’t be able to function right if you were in my squad. I knew that I’d put everyone else at risk because if it came down to it… if there was a choice between everyone in the squad dying, everyone on the base, or you… I’d let the resistance burn instead of lose you. Every single time.” 

You close your eyes, fighting the emotion that needs to break through and squeeze his hand like a lifeline. “I love you.” You whisper. 

Your fingertips brush against the necklace, the ring hooking around the first knuckle of your index finger by chance. 

Poe slowly moves his hand from yours and unwinds the necklace from his palm before carefully placing it over your head, giving you plenty of time to move away if you wanted. 

“I love you Moonbeam,” he mutters, his voice low, reverent. Then leans in to kiss you. You kiss him back with all your heart. 

____________________________________

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[stop-talking]

You're his ex, but he's desperate for a babysitter. (pt. 1)

Mike Schmidt x fem reader

2.5k words

Tags: 18+, mike x reader, no use of y/n, exes, enemies, enemies to lovers, slowburn? sassy mike, sassy reader, pet names, banter, angst, so much angst, flashing mike, fluff, spending time with Abby (because everyone always forgets her??)

Part 2

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────────────────

Mike holds his breath as the phone rings. He's already gone down the mental checklist of people who he could possibly call for help right now, and is currently scraping the bottom of the goddamn barrel.

*click* "Hello?"

He speaks hurriedly into the dingy landline phone, praying you won't immediately dismiss him.

"Hey, it's Mike. Please don't hang up."

You're tempted to hang up on him then and there, just to prove a point. You guys broke up nearly a year ago, and hadn't spoken in... what, six months now? But the tone in his voice... he sounded desperate.

"What, drunk and lonely again?" You scoff, unable to resist taking a jab at him. You two hadn't exactly ended things on good terms, his lack-of-sleep induced grumpiness and general unpleasant disposition making it hard for him to take criticism without it turning into an argument. It wasn't your fault he never made time for you. It wasn't your fault he was so emotionally unavailable.

"No." He grits his teeth, already regretting calling you. "I need a favor. Please." He chokes the word out, his stomach in knots from having to resort to this.

You pause for a few moments, chewing on his words. It must really be serious if he'd called you, after all the things you'd said to him last time you spoke.

"Well... lets hear it, then."

"I need you to watch Abby tonight. My usual babysitter isn't answering the damn phone, and I have to leave for work in an hour. I can't leave Abby home alone. I just can't."

In an hour? You glance at the clock, it's already 8:30. What ungodly hours is he working?

"I thought you didn't work nights? I swear to god, Schmidt, if you're making me watch her so you can go get laid-"

"No. Nothing like that. I swear." He sighs, sounding genuinely exhausted. "I'm working as a security guard these days. Night gig. Long story. It sucks ass, but I need this job. Can you watch Abby? I'll owe you one."

You bite back the urge to scoff at him. He's not even going to pay you? Figures. Oh well. Holding a favor over his head might be fun.

"Ugh. Fine. I'll see. What time will you get back? I have work in the morning."

"6:15. Maybe 6:10, if I drive like a maniac."

"Shit. I'll have to get ready for work at your place. If I go home first I'll be late."

"Yeah, sure. Anything. Just please stay with Abby. She goes to sleep at 10, you can crash on the couch. I just want someone in the house with her."

You let out an audible sigh. Are you seriously going to go crash on your shitty ex-boyfriend's shitty couch on a work night?

...Yeah, yeah you are.

"Damn it, Mike. You'd better kiss my fucking feet when I get there."

Mike almost laughs at that. Almost.

"Sure thing, Princess." He cant help but taunt you a bit, using an old pet name he used to call you way back when you were dating. It probably wasn't the best decision to irritate the last person he could rely on, but he wasn't in the right headspace to make good decisions right now. These days, he mostly runs off of coffee and self-hatred.

"I'll be there in 30. You'd better be on your knees and groveling when you open the door." You slam the phone down before he can answer. Michael fucking Schmidt. Still the same jackass you broke up with all those months ago.

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

When Mike opens the door to greet you almost exactly 30 minutes later, he reluctantly drops to his knees. He'd hoped you'd forgotten the silly request, but the unamused look you gave him said otherwise.

"Fucking witch." He grumbles, hanging his head as you brush past him into the house. Were you wearing... pajama pants? He stares at you as you set down your things, a purse and what looks like an overnight bag of some sort.

"Stop gaping. And stand up. You look pathetic." You shrug off your coat, revealing an old t-shirt underneath. Yeah, you were in pajamas, so what? Its late. And you couldn't be bothered to put in extra effort for Mike, of all people.

"Excuse me for doing as her majesty commands." He groans and stands up, brushing himself off. As if that'll make him look any more presentable.

Abby tentatively pokes her head out of her room, watching you and Mike argue. Shit. Did she hear all that?

"Hey Abbs." You wave to her, deciding to ignore Mike's comment. "It's gonna be just me and you tonight, sound good?"

She looks to Mike for approval, who nods and gives her a tired smile. The only kind of smile he's been able to muster lately.

"...Will you play with me?"

"Yeah, 'course I will. Let me have a chat with your brother real quick." She seems to accept that answer, closing herself back off in her room. You sigh and follow Mike into the kitchen.

"There's leftovers in the fridge, and a lasagna in the freezer. Probably have something edible in the pantry. I think there's popcorn." He explains, pointing out a few different measly options for a quick meal. "Look, she probably won't, but just try and get her to eat dinner."

You watch him lean back against the counter and rub at his temples. God damn, he looks... exhausted. His hair has grown out a bit since you last saw him, dark brown curls hanging low over his forehead. His eye bags seem to hang even lower.

"Yeah... I'll try and get her to eat."

An uncomfortable silence lingers in the air as you both run out of things to talk about, so he fills the void with an insult.

"You really had to come over in that?" Mike scoffs and gestures at your frumpy t-shirt and pajama pants.

"What? Were you hoping for something slutty?" You cross your arms and give him a smug look.

He turns his head, unsure what to say to that. Maybe part of him did hope to see you dressed in something a little more revealing. Or maybe just undressed. God damn it, was he blushing?

"Fuck you." He mutters, making his way to the entryway and slipping his shoes on.

"No thanks. Been there, done that." You respond dismissively, watching him leave with a smirk.

Mike slams the door on his way out. Not hard enough to startle Abby, hopefully, but hard enough to make a point he's not in the mood to play your little games. Still, the whole drive to work, he can't help but wonder what if...? What if you had never broken up with him? What if he had been a better boyfriend? A better provider for you and Abby? A better man?

"I fucking hate her." He grumbles, but the words are hollow.

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

"Mike told me you stopped coming over because he found out you're a witch and you curse children. Is that true?" Abby finally musters up the courage to ask the question that's been on her mind ever since you walked through the door.

"Did he say that?" You chuckle, a little shocked that this is what she chose to ask after ten minutes or so of silently coloring together.

"Yeah. He said you cursed him, too. And that's why he can't color anymore. He'll explode, or something." She babbles, not looking up from her paper.

"Hmm... well, if you're really worried about your brother, I'll cut you a deal." You do your best to keep the anger from your tone as you continue to color beside her at the table. That asshole doesn't color with Abby anymore?

"...What kind of deal?"

"I'll lift the curse on your brother so he can color and draw again... but you have to eat dinner. Ten whole bites."

Abby seems to consider this for a moment, turning and eyeing you suspiciously. Mike likes to mess with her like this. Were you messing with her too? Probably. But, well, if it would make Mike spend time with her again...

"Fine. What do we have?"

You smile at her. This babysitting stuff is a breeze.

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

When Mike stumbles in the door the next morning, he spots you fast asleep on the couch. He flops down in the recliner and just watches you sleep for a minute or two. You look so pretty when you're asleep. Serene. Peaceful. Not at all like when you're awake, giving him that attitude he's so familiar with. He sighs and makes his way over to the couch, knowing he should probably wake you for work.

"Uhh... wakey wakey?" He mumbles lamely, unsure what to really say. Definitely not good morning, beautiful. He scoffs to himself at the thought.

"Mmm... Mike?" You blink up at the man gently shaking your shoulder, your eyes adjusting to the morning light.

"Yeah. Who else would it be?" He shakes his head in amusement and goes back to sit in the recliner.

"I dunno. A hookup?" You sit up and rub the sleep from your eyes, then stretch out.

"A hookup? Still being passed around, then?" He responds with a scoff, trying to hide just how much that answer bothers him. Even after nearly a year of being broken up, he doesn't like to imagine you with other men. It leaves a bad taste in his mouth, even if he's not into you anymore. Actually, you don't look half-bad right now, stretching your arms over your head like that...

"Can you blame a girl? Had to make up for all the unsatisfying nights with you."

Mike reeled at that little quip. The smug look on your face, god... He wasn't quite sure if he wanted to shut you up with a kiss or a punch.

"Just fucking go home." Nice one, Mike. That'll show her.

"Hey, you agreed I could get ready here. I'm gonna go use your shower, and then I have something to talk to you about."

Something to talk to him about? He scowls as you walk off towards his bedroom. Why couldn't you just leave him alone? Why did everything have to be so complicated? He groans and goes to lie down in bed. Maybe he could get in a quick nap while you shower. Maybe.

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

You emerge from the dingy bathroom connected to Mike's bedroom fifteen minutes or so later, steam trailing in behind you.

"Three-in-one shampoo, conditioner, and body wash? Seriously, Schmidt?" You scold him, crossing your arms as you stand before his bed wearing nothing but a towel. At first, he seems annoyed when you pull him out of his brooding, but when he takes in your current state of undress, he sputters.

"S-so? Its economical." He scoffs, irritated, but unable to look away as you make your way around his bed and out the door.

You return a minute later carrying your overnight bag. "Forgot my clothes." Mike just nods, still unable to tear his eyes from you.

"Stop staring."

"Stop waltzing through my room naked."

"This isn't naked." You gesture to the towel wrapped around your body, drawing his attention back to you.

"This is naked."

Mike watches in complete shock as you let the towel fall to the floor, completely baring yourself to him for a few moments before finally locking yourself in his bathroom. You hear him mutter a few curses on the other side of the door, and smile as you get changed.

"Was that really necessary?" Mike scowls at you when you emerge from his bathroom a few minutes later, now fully dressed.

"Calm down, Mikey. Not like you haven't seen it all before." The old nickname you used to call him by doesn't sound endearing anymore. It sounds taunting. Mike looks like he cant decide between kicking you out of the house or pulling you into his bed. Good to know you can still get under his skin. And maybe his bedsheets, if you wanted.

"What did you want to talk to me about?" He finally asks, sighing in defeat.

"C'mon. I'll tell you."

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

Mike sits in the recliner, watching you set up a bunch of unnecessary crap on his coffee table. Did you really have to do your makeup right in front of him?

"A witch, Mike? Seriously? You told her I'm a witch, and then left her alone with me for the night?"

Mike swallows. Shit. He honestly forgot about that, it was just some lame excuse he came up with right after the breakup back when he was still distraught.

"Am I wrong?" He tries to brush it off with a sassy comment, but folds when he sees your intense glare.

"I mean... uh... I'll tell her you're... not a witch..." Real smooth, Schmidt. Mumble and stare at the floor.

"It's not even about that, really. Feed her all the lies you want. What I'm upset about is that she told me you don't color with her anymore."

Mike finally meets your eyes as you apply yet another random powder he doesn't understand the purpose of to your cheeks with the swipe of a brush.

"I'm busy. And it's none of your business. I asked you to come be her babysitter, not her mom." He snarls, hands clenched into fists.

"I'm not trying to be. It just breaks my heart to hear that stuff from her, Mike. I told her I'd lift the 'curse' off of you if she ate her dinner, and she did. So consider yourself un-cursed."

Mike grits his teeth as you put air quotes around the word "curse". He knew you were right, and that bothered him more than the fact he was being a shitty brother. The worst part was, you weren't even being snarky, you just sounded genuinely concerned for Abby. God damn it.

"...Yeah. Fine. Un-cursed. Got it." He grumbles in agreement as you finish up your makeup and swipe the assortment of products into your purse.

"How do I look?"

He wanted to tell you that you looked gorgeous, that he missed having you around, attitude or not. But in this moment, he couldn't do it. He was too tired. Too angry.

"Like a whore."

"Someone's jealous he doesn't get any."

"Like I'd want you."

"Oh yeah, the raging boner you had earlier when you saw me in a towel was because you don't want me. Totally."

Oh, now you're just taunting him.

"I'll have you know that didn't happen till after you lost the towel." Mike scoffs as he follows you to the entryway, unlocking the door for you while you slip on your shoes.

"Don't lie to me, Mikey."

"I'd never dream of it, Princess."

Mike has to resist the urge to pull you into his arms as you leave for work. Maybe if you didn't look so goddamn smug, he would. Instead he just shuts the door and locks it, hating himself for how much he enjoyed this whole interaction.

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────────────────

will probably write a part 2 (with smut??)

edit: here is part 2

(no smut. part 3 tho...??)

idk this was my first fanfic ever so enjoy

[the-s1lly-corner]

Is it possible to do head cannons for digital circus characters with a reader who's too nice for their own good

Like they get in danger when trying to talk to the bad guy npc thinking that they could persuade them to the good side

TADC cast x reader whos too nice!

Anon I'm so so sorry that it took me so long to get to this <\3! I gotta admit I've been in like, a bit of a burn out recently and I'm still recovering from my baking spree last week so I'm WOOOooOoooooO

That said I hope you enjoy!

Written ambiguously, if you want to see this as romantic or platonic, is totally up to you!

CAINE:

Literally puts a pause on the IHA when he sees you being dragged away by the big bad guy, all while still trying to insist that the NPC with no chance to gain sentience can be good.. caine finds it endearing in it's own way, its sweet, you see the best in people... and non-people... but reader, this is exactly how you get hurt..! Keeps a close eye on you during IHA

POMNI:

While I dont think pomni fits the "too nice for her own good" vibe, I feel that shes... what word am i looking for? Submissive? She kind of just goes with what others are doing; asides from her initial freak out we dont see much pushback from her in the pilot, though that could be thanks to shock... perhaps shes still feeling it during IHAs given how random and intense they can be..? Point is I think pomni would give a meek resistance before scurrying off after you, trying to save you from the clutches of the baddie

RAGATHA:

Shes loves you so much, dont get her wrong. She loves that you're so sweet to everyone, even to those who dont deserve it. Actually if anything, Ragatha is also a little too sweet for her own good.. but shes not as trusting and naive as you are. Frantically pulls you away to the side when you try to make your way to the days villain, gently scolding you and asking what you were thinking. She doesnt mean to make you feel bad, but she doesn't want to see you hurt!

JAX:

One of the only two characters that might get a little mean with you. Not like "mean as in berating you for being so naive" more so "I'm upset that you seemingly have no regard for your safety, I care about you and I cant see you continue to throw yourself into danger" way that can come off as mean, since jax isnt really.. the best as saying this softly.. immediately cuts through any "what ifs" you might bring up to him, you're the only person in this circus that he actually enjoys and hes not going to let you get flung around.. can his tone be softer? Sure, but can you blame him if this is a regular occurrence?

KINGER:

This poor man nearly has a heart attack when he sees you about to be absolutely demolished (but not really thanks to the digital world), probably ends in him getting hurt too.. but that would be mean.. but also can you imagine the angst? The guilt? He probably pushes through the pain to get to you and hes just. Feverishly pulling you to him and patting you down to make sure you're okay... he won't tell you to stop being so nice; in fact I dont think the thought crosses his mind ever.. but he does ask to never do that again, the getting into danger thing

ZOOBLE:

The other character that might get a little mean when confronting you about it, but given zoobles general attitude as well as their tone of voice, it seems like they're more angry with you than they actually are. They think you're too nice for your own good, truly. While the others may find it sweet and endearing, they're constantly thinking about how one day you'll be in over your head and wont have a way out. This might actually result in an argument, thanks to zoobles tone and way of going about things.. but you guys eventually communicate and make up, at least I would like to think so

GANGLE:

Very similar to pomni in the regard that she doesnt have the spine (haha) to tell you not to do whatever you're planning on doing. "I don't think... oh.. oh wait, reader-" as she scurries after you so you dont get lost. Gets legitimately sad and beats herself up if you get hurt. Similar to zoobles, you guys are going to need to communicate and work together on this because gangle cannot handle the fact that you're constantly getting hurt thanks to your kindness grating on her mind all day every day

[moonchildstyles]

someone making a comment about prosecco h about how he should date his age and it sends yn into a spiral like "oh god this isn't a good idea"

Would love to see the first fight for Prosecco (or any one i love the first fight one shots for ur other series lol)

Prosecco angst!! Pleaseeeee

wordcount: 14k+

—————

"(Y/N), love, c'mon." 

Harry's feigned exasperation fell short the more his smile grew. His arms were wrapped securely around her waist as she clung to him, legs hitched around his hips in her effort to not let him go. 

"I don't want you to leave." 

(Y/N)'s pout could be heard from miles away, Harry didn't even need the confirmation of her puffed lips pressed against his throat. He only sighed at her whining, the sentiment the same thing she'd been saying since he unraveled himself from the sheets of his bed and her legs. 

"We've spent the whole weekend together, haven't we?" he attempted to soothe her, running his palm along the span of her back, "And, you'll still be here when I come home, right? No reason to pout about that, is there?" 

"Yes, there is," she argued, her petulant tone making Harry's grin widen, "I don't want you to leave at all. Tell them you're sick and we'll lay in bed all day. You can go to work tomorrow instead, when I have class and can't miss you." 

"That's the same thing y'told me last week, and I really did take the day off, remember?" he told her, walking them back to the kitchen counter where his abandoned mug of coffee sat in wait after he was distracted, "Don't think I can get away with that again, sweetheart." 

A quiet humph sounded from where she was huddled in his neck as he settled her on the ledge of the kitchen counter. Despite the stable surface now under her bottom, she didn't bother to unravel herself from around Harry's form, thighs still cinched around his hips and arms looped around his neck. 

"Can you work from home, then?" 

"I wish, but I don't have any of m'things with me. And, I've got to be at a meeting today with some of our new clients." Harry dropped a kiss to her shoulder once he saw them deflate at all the reasons he couldn't stay him and lie in with her, no matter how much he wanted to. 

"Fine," she relented, peeling herself away from his neck only enough to get a look at his face. 

Just as he expected, even though she was giving up on her fight, her features were still molded into the sad puppy look she had begun to realize was something he had a hard time resisting. 

"Don't look so sad, darling," he cooed to her, ducking his head to press a kiss to the tip of he nose, "I'll be home soon, 'kay? Y'can even call me on my lunch if y'really miss me that much." 

"We just had so much fun this weekend, I don't want it to be over already," she told him, canting her head to the side as she gazed up at him. 

"We did, didn't we?" he smiled at her, thinking abut their weekend full of nothing but lounging around in bed and going out to eat when (Y/N) got too antsy in the house and wanted to dress up. "I promise we'll do it all again this weekend, pretty girl. Jus' need to get through work first, right?" 

"Okay," she sighed, "Maybe we can go to the aquarium this weekend?" 

Harry's smile winded at her words, dimples deep in his cheeks. "We can definitely do that, sweetheart. I'll buy the tickets today, alright?" 

She brightened some at his promise, giving him the smile he was missing since she decided to be his pouty girl. "Thank you, H." 

His arms around her waist tightened at her quiet gratitude. There was nothing he loved more than making her happy. With his grip, he pulled her just to the edge of the kitchen counter as her body relaxed, legs now dangling on either side of his with her arms a loose loop around his neck. 

"Now, give me a kiss before I go. 'M already going to be running late," Harry requested, dipping his head down with a nudge to her nose with his own. 

(Y/N) complied with no convincing, happily pressing her lips to his. Her kiss tasted like the fruit he cubed up for her for breakfast, warding off the bitter afternotes of the coffee he barely had time to brush from his teeth before (Y/N) pounced on him with pleas to stay home. 

"Love you," he murmured against her lips, planting a small smattering of pecks across her mouth before pulling away. 

"Love you, too," she told him, bright smile on her lips, "Text me when you're on lunch so I can call you." 

"You know I will, darling," he told her, giving her one more kiss before finally stepping out from between her legs. 

(Y/N) hopped off the counter and followed him for the send off, the length his button down swaying over her thighs as she followed him. As much as he hated to leave her, the idea of her waiting at his home for him, dressed in his clothes and full of love for him made his heart race. He'd never had someone to come home to like this, even if they weren't officially moved in together yet. That thought made the days a little easier to get through. 

With one more blown kiss in her direction and a wave before he pulled off, Harry tried his best to start his day despite the fact he was leaving his heart behind.

—————

(Y/N) was bored. 

Harry's house wasn't that fun when he wasn't there with her, she decided. She went through and finished up the laundry they started the day before and changed the sheets out on his bed, and even made sure she had all of her toiletries packed up in her bag so she could go home after dinner tonight, but that only filled a few hours before she was lounging on his couch watching a reality dating show she couldn't believe really found love for these people. Her only saving grace was the fact that the lunch hour was approaching. 

Despite the fact she had already promised to call him during the break this morning, these lonesome hours allowed her to think up an idea that sounded much more fun the longer she laid  out on his couch. 

She was going to go see him. 

She was going to pick up some lunch on the way there, and actually go see him for the first time at his big office. Planning her outfit took all of twenty minutes as she refused to take off his shirt, deciding to pair it with a pair of jeans that Harry had told her made her butt look good and the pearled headband she wore on their first date. It was a fun distraction, getting ready, as she primped her hair and did her skincare routine—forgoing makeup for the day—before placing a pickup order at Harry's favorite little diner he takes her to when she's hungry in the middle of the night. She couldn't wait to surprise him. 

The drive to the diner was a familiar one, a quick stop that had her bubbling with excitement as she double checked the order of Harry's favorite meal and all his fixings (he loved this melt they had, the ingredients basically making up a grilled cheese until Harry added all of these bits and extras that elevated it to a 'melt' instead). As soon as she had today's lunch packed away in the passenger seat, (Y/N) put the address of Harry's office building into her GPS. A canopy of butterflies made their way through her tummy as her ETA approached with every mile she drove to his office. She'd never been before, and the fact that Harry wasn't expecting her added another layer to her bubbling nerves. Hopefully, she could find the place—and his office—easily so she couldn't have to ruin the surprise with a call asking him for directions. 

Once the towering building came into view, (Y/N) realized just how many times she'd passed it on the way to her labs for her required science class her first year of university. The glossy windows shone in the sun's rays, gleaming almost as brightly as the blocky lettering that detailed the company name over the top floor of the structure. She knew his job was important, that he made a good living and met high-profile people, but she never figured it was this important. If she was being honest, what she had pictured was a building in a business plaza with a few floors to spare for the different departments, Harry's office settled on the highest one (at max, the fifth floor). Looking at the scale of his job, she now felt a little guilty for convincing him to call in the previous week. (That didn't mean she wasn't planning on doing it again, though). 

With their lunches in hand, the plastic bag hanging off her wrist as she locked her car, (Y/N) craned her neck to gaze up the height of the building. If Harry was important as she figured he would be—should be—, he was at the top behind one of those glossy windows. He probably had a killer view. 

Going through the glass doors, (Y/N) saw a luxurious waiting room complete with a receptionist smiling behind a glass desk and a shiny set of elevators pinging behind her as people came and went. It was definitely the lunch hour if the amount of suited people sifting through the lobby with lunch pails and takeaway containers to some of the fancier restaurants nearby was anything to go by. 

"Hello," the receptionist greeted her, a bright smile on her face as that could rival the gleaming plate on her desk that detailed her name to be Seline. "Are you here to drop off a lunch delivery?" 

Glancing down at her casual look and a bag of food at her side, (Y/N) couldn't blame her for thinking she was just here to drop off some executive's food order. The one day she doesn't feel like getting all dressed up to see him.

"Oh, no," she laughed, carefully approaching the desk so she didn't make any scoffs with the worn soles of her shoes, "I'm actually here to see Harry Styles? I think he's supposed to be on his lunch break right now, so I was hoping I could eat with him if you wouldn't mind telling me where I can find his office." 

"Oh," Seline chirped with a raise of her brows, glancing down at the desktop Mac stationed on the surface of her glass desk, "I see. And may I ask for your name?" 

"Right, sorry, I'm (Y/N). His girlfriend." (Y/N) hated the way her answer felt like a question with the way her tone tilted upwards at the end. She was beginning to feel so out of place in this building, she even doubted her own name.

"His girlfriend?" Seline deadpanned, her eyes flicking from her screen to fix on (Y/N). Though she still held a pleasant expression on her face, there was something vacant entering her smile, like she wasn't entirely sure what to do about this situation. 

"Yeah," she affirmed with a jerky nod, her hair fluttering behind the hold of the headband crowing her head, "It's kind of a surprise, so..." 

(Y/N) cringed as she trailed off, wishing she had thought through her statement before she opened her mouth. 

"Oh, okay," Seline smiled, the edges turning down some as she tapped away at her keyboard. After pressing definitively on the enter key, the receptionist looked up with an apology in her eyes, "Unfortunately, I'm not able to let anyone up to see any of the executives unless I have express permission from them or an appointment on their schedule. But, I can take a message for you and let him know you stopped by?" 

A kind of anxiety (Y/N) hadn't felt since her first day of college swept through her system. She was sure Seline was doing her job, following policies in place that made the most of Harry and his colleagues' time, but (Y/N) had never felt more stupid or out of place in her life. Another set of employees dressed in suits and skirts, everything creaseless with precise pleats and expensive shoes that clacked over the tiled floor made their way out of the elevator, making (Y/N) feel that much more out of place with the holes in her jeans and the wrinkles in her borrowed shirt. She hadn't even bothered to brush her hair before she left. 

The bag of food at her side crinkled as she shifted, grabbing for her phone from her pocket. "Um, could I actually give him a call, really quick? I-I'm sure he'll let me up, I just didn't know he needed to let you know." 

"Of course, take your time," Seline offered, dropping her skeptical gaze to (Y/N)'s flowery cased phone, "As soon as I have his permission come through my system, I can buzz the elevator for you." 

Peeping out a thank you, (Y/N) scurried off to one of the white leather seats that decorated the waiting area. She was sure no one was paying her any mind as she fiddled with her phone, getting frustrated when her Face I.D. wasn't accepted with the way her hands were shaking, but she swore every person that passed through the waiting area—especially Seline—had their eyes glued to the silly girl that was trying to bypass protocol to see her 'boyfriend'. 

By the time she had the phone pressed to her ear with Harry's contact pulled up, (Y/N) worried she was going to scream if the plastic bag with their food crinkled one more time in the quiet lobby. 

"Sweetheart, I was jus' about to text you," Harry greeted her, his voice offering a flood of relief. 

"Harry, hi—uh—I'm at your office." She cringed as the words left her mouth, knowing Seline could definitely hear the way she wobbled through her words. "But—um—I'm not allowed up until you say its okay." 

"You are? Sweetheart, I'm so sorry, I didn't know y'were coming," Harry prattled off after a beat, the sound of a keyboard tapping in the background. 

"It's okay, I was trying to surprise you with lunch and everything," she murmured, feeling silly now in her plan. Of course she wasn't going to be escorted to someone's corporate office without some kind of permission or appointment. At least they were getting it figured out. 

"Oh, pretty girl," Harry cooed through the phone, his smile evident in his tone, "That's so sweet of you. I can't wait to see you." He paused for a moment before she heard a ping on the line. "Alright, I sent my access code down to Seline, she'll buzz y'right up, yeah? Once you're on m'floor, just need to take a right to Shelly's desk and you'll need to tell her your name but she'll let you in right away." 

"Thank you, H," she sighed as her shoulders sagged in relief. With a proper plan in place, (Y/N) could breathe. "Love you." 

"Love you too, gorgeous. I'll see you in a minute." 

After hanging up, Seline waved her over as soon as (Y/N) stowed her phone in her pocket. "Mr. Styles' permission just came through!" she beamed at her, "I'm so sorry about that confusion, Ms. (Y/N). Mr. Styles just didn't let me know he was expecting anyone and you look so young, I was worried a daughter of one of his clients got a little too attached over a client dinner or something." Seline laughed as if she had told (Y/N) one of her funniest jokes as she clicked away at her keyboard, the up arrow above one of the elevators lighting up as she pressed enter. Swiping a keycard from a drawer on her desk, Seline handed it out with a polite smile on her face. "Scan this at the elevator, and go to floor twenty. Have a nice lunch, Ms. (Y/N)." 

(Y/N) swallowed as she took the keycard, reciprocating the polite smile the receptionist gave her though (Y/N) could bet her own was nothing more than a shaky imitation. She worked robotically as she followed the directions she was given, the keycard taking a moment to scan as she couldn't steady her hand. 

She looked so young that Seline worried she was a daughter of one of Harry's clients coming to stalk him? Alone in the elevator with her distorted reflecting staring back at her in the mirrored panels that slated the walls, (Y/N) didn't know what to think. Of course it was never a secret that there was a lengthy gap in age between she and H—the very reason he had waited so long in becoming close to her—but never had that fact been so blatantly presented to her. 

Sure, (Y/N) didn't do herself any favors with her makeup-less face and rumpled outfit, but she didn't think she particularly looked like someone's teen daughter who sought after a man of her father's demographic. Shaking off the comment, she tried to remind herself of the relief of finally getting out of that lobby and getting closer and closer to her Harry—her comfort zone. All she had to do was talk to Shelly, and she was in. No more crinkling plastic bag or scuffs of her shoes over the expensive tile. 

Once the elevator dinged, the number twenty illuminated over the door, (Y/N) let out a breath. This floor held the same ambiance as the waiting room she'd just left—clean lines, light colors, and glass fixtures everywhere. Office doors with titles and names lined the length of the hall. Each sprawling end was serrated by the lobby area that almost perfectly emulated the one below, only smaller. 

The same glass desk as Seline's was stationed in the middle of the lobby, the main fixture in the area with the gleaming iMac and tall vase of neutral flowers on the edge. A desk plate inscribed with Shelly across the brass shone in the sunlight seeping through the windows. But, there was no Shelly to be seen. 

Peering down the hall, (Y/N) spotted what looked like it could be the office to the Chief Officer of Brand Relationships, or his better known name: Harry Styles. Without Shelly there, and her safe haven within her sights, (Y/N) figured she'd just toe her way down the hall and get to his office by herself. Just as she moved to bypass the glass desk, the sound of heels tapping over the elaborately titled floors sounded from the hall behind her. 

Looking over her shoulder, (Y/N) paused when she realized who was clicking over the floor. 

"Hello, sorry about that I was—" Shelly cut herself off, her brows furrowing once she was close enough to realize who was standing in her lobby, "(Y/N)?" 

"Hi, Shelly," (Y/N) awkwardly greeted her, taking in her classmate from the Business English course she took before (Y/N) realized she would rather die than have anything to do with writing business polices and handbook guides. She'd never seen Shelly so dressed up, used to her curls being tied into a poof on the top of her head with baggy sweatsuits covering her form. Here, she was clad in a smart skirt with the matching top tucked in, complete with the resounding heels that clacked over the floor, hair in defined and shiny ringlets. (Y/N) swallowed before she spoke again, "I didn't know you worked here." 

"Oh yeah," Shelly waved off, a pinch remaining in her brow, "this is where I do my internship hours." 

When she paused, this is what (Y/N) had been scared of. She and Shelly certainly weren't close enough to maintain a bubbling conversation with anything other than surface level small talk before settling into a static silence. 

"That's nice," (Y/N) smiled, forcing herself to keep from grabbing for her phone out of habit at the feel of the awkward air, "How do you like it?" 

Shelly gave her a generic smile, one she most likely trained herself for with this job. "It's really nice, thanks for asking. Super nice place, and the food is awesome around here so there's always fun lunch breaks to be had." They both broke out into polite laughs, (Y/N) trying to ease herself when she saw Shelly's eyes drop to the plastic bag at her side. "Are you here dropping off food for someone?" 

Round two begins. 

"Oh no," (Y/N) shook her head, schooling her features as best she could, "I'm here to see—um—Harry Styles, actually. He said he sent a permi—"

"You're Mr. Styles' girlfriend?" 

(Y/N) nervously began to pluck at the buttons of her top with her restless fingers. Though her smile was beginning to waver, she kept up her polite facade. "That's me," she chirped with a shrug, faux-nonchalance greasing her joints.

"Oh," Shelly sounded, eyes wide with brows raised as she rounded the side of her desk. In seconds her gaze was flitting over her computer screen, incredulous look still pasted to her face by the time she finally looked up at (Y/N) again. "You're the one that talked to Seline downstairs?" 

"Yeah," (Y/N) replied simply, unsure of where else to go with a question like that. 

Shelly hummed, leaning down and typing out something on the keyboard before she stood to the full of her height and gave her attention to (Y/N), though she wished she could give it back. "You're having lunch with him today?" 

"Yeah," she parroted, the bag at her side crinkling at the worst time, "I called him when I was downstairs, so he should know I'm here and everything already." 

"Right," Shelly laughed, shaking her head with a fluff to her curls as she seemingly remembered where she was, "Sorry about that. I got Seline's message that Mr. Styles' girlfriend was here to see him, you're just not what I was expecting." She rounded her desk once more with a pleasant smile, heels clacking.

Gesturing for (Y/N) to follow her with a quiet right this way, Shelly started her down the same hallway (Y/N) had seen Harry's nameplate. As much as she had wanted to scurry away and hide in Harry's office before, (Y/N) dragged her feet during the trek. Maybe she was nothing but a glutton for punishment, unable to let the draining weeds growing in her head go unfed, but she couldn't help herself before the next question left her lips. 

"What do you mean?"

"Hm?" Shelly hummed, falling back to walk in line with (Y/N). 

"Just—I mean..." (Y/N) stuttered, cringing at herself for stumbling so hard over her words in the quiet hallway. "Um, what were you expecting when you heard his girlfriend was coming?" 

"Oh," Shelly chirped, slowing even further as she directed her gaze to the ceiling with a pucker to her lips as she thought. "No one specific, really. I don't know, I figured it would be some kind of executive lady, or something. Oh, wait! Do you remember Prof Frances?" 

(Y/N) stopped herself from taking in the deep breath that ached to be a sigh at the mention of one of the teachers that was well known across campus. She was a super beautiful woman, someone that people were known to take her class for with only the intention of staring at her and trying their hand at flirting with her during office hours. She was a kind woman, reserved and quiet when not up front lecturing, but held the kind of confidence that only came with age and loving the body you were in and the person you were. She was grown. Of course, Shelly would picture someone like that for Harry. 

Cool, confident, and sure of herself. Her beauty was only a plus and her age was much more well matched for Shelly's Mr. Styles. 

"I remember her." 

"I guess I pictured someone like her then," Shelly bubbled off, shrugging her shoulders as they came to a stop by Harry's door, "All tall and dark and everything. I definitely wasn't expecting one of my classmates." 

(Y/N) gave a polite laugh to Shelly's attempt at a joke. She felt entirely too stiff in the lungs and tight in her tummy to think of anything sunny at the the moment. 

"It was really nice to see you, though," Shelly chirped, eyes bright as she turned, "Let me know when you're planning on coming by next time, and I can tell Seline so she can have the keycard and everything waiting for you." 

Getting out a weak thanks, (Y/N) watched as Shelly knocked on Harry's office door before cracking it open enough to stick her head through and let him know his guest was here. The sound of Harry's deep voice sounding through his office, though muffled by the time it reached (Y/N)'s ears, did enough to soothe her anxieties before she was ushered over the threshold with Shelly shutting the door behind her. 

"Hi, sweetheart," Harry smiled at her, rising from his spot behind his desk with open arms, "'M so happy to see you, c'mere." 

It was instinct the way she moved across the office, dropping the bag of food into one of the chairs opposing his desk with her bag and keys. (Y/N) smushed her face against his chest as soon as she was close enough, looping her arms around his middle while Harry's became a cradle around her shoulders. 

"Hi," she peeped against his chest, eyes falling closed. 

"My pretty girl," he hummed as he dropped a kiss to the top of her head. "Best surprise ever, you know that?" 

"Good," she tried to laugh, urging her lungs to relax, "I was starting to worry that I wasn't supposed to be here." 

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, unpeeling himself from around her. Shifting his grip, he laced a hand through hers while he reached for the bag of food on his desk, a smile appearing on his face when he noticed the restaurant name on the plastic. 

Flashing back to the tight air that filtered through the lobby downstairs and the unexpected run-in with a classmate, (Y/N) only shrugged. Fanning her gaze across his office, she followed after him as he took her to the comfortable pair of chairs stationed by the floor to ceiling window that plated one side of his office. The perfect spot to schmooze clients and lunch with other executives. 

"It's just really fancy here, and all," (Y/N) settled on as she sunk into the plush leather of the chair. 

A huffed laugh left Harry's lips as he doled out the contents of the bag, packets of silverware and napkins being shared on the sidetable planted between the chairs. "Yeah, a little, isn't it? Definitely not what it used to be when I started working here." 

(Y/N) only nodded as he spoke, a small smile on her face. She wanted to be here with Harry, talking about his work, seeing his excitement when he realized what she picked up for him, or just allowing the fact she was spending time with him to wash over her. She wanted all of that, but each time she felt herself relax, a moment of Seline's quickly concealed judgement or Shelly's bordering-on-disrespectful surprise flashed through her memory. 

Should she even be here right now? 

"Pretty girl, y'got me my melt!" Harry chirped with a bright smile, bringing her attention back to the moment where an unopened takeaway box sat on her lap. 

A genuine curve of her lips molded her features. This was what she had been looking forward to when she thought up her plan. "And, I even made sure they put all that gross stuff you like on there." 

Harry scoffed and made a face as he reached for a pack of cutlery. "'S not gross to have mushrooms on a melt, love. At least 'm not dipping it in ketchup or something worse." 

With a pointed glance in her direction, Harry waited for the explosion she was going to give him. 

"Harry Styles, that was one time, and I was drunk. It's not fair to keep bringing that up!" 

The bright smile on his face was reward enough for all the trouble she'd gone through to make it to his office. "'S jus' shocking, that's all," Harry pressed, his curls falling over his forehead as he shook his head, "As a self-proclaimed grilled cheese purist, I expected a little better out of you." 

Rolling her eyes, (Y/N) cracked open her own box. From the corner of her eye, she could see Harry digging into his lunch, spinach leaves and avocado smears edging out the back of the sandwich. 

"You know," he started, swallowing down his bite while (Y/N) twirled her side of macaroni on her fork, "y'should be happy that's the most embarrassing thing you've done around me while drunk. By the time I was your age, I had friends who had to babysit me at parties after this one time I tried to eat some girl's cigarette. I only have photos to prove that even happened, though because I don't remember a second of it." 

Normally, (Y/N) would have been enamored at the mention of what Harry was like when he was university aged like her. But, today the phrase of when I was your age, struck a cord in her. 

There hadn't been too much thought in her head about their age gap when she met Harry. The only time she had really thought about it was when Harry brought it up, telling her that he hadn't wanted to pursue her sooner in hopes of avoiding making her uncomfortable. When he had told her that, she remembered the way she canted her head to the side with a furrow in her brow; the fact he was thirty-five (or close to, when they met) hadn't been something that sounded all that bad to her. If he had showed her any kind of interest earlier, (Y/N) wouldn't have given it a single thought before trying to subtly flirt her way into his life. 

Today had been the first time she really had to confront their age gap in a way that didn't make her feel protected and warm. 

Sure, she could understand a moment's hesitation. They weren't a traditional coupling, and that was fine, but hearing more than once that she was not what others had expected to be Harry's girlfriend got under her skin. The mention of a previous professor just about sealed the deal for (Y/N). 

Of course, someone his age would be able to bond over the same things they grew up with, the same formative years and pop culture references. Of course, he would be better matched to someone with the same level of maturity who was on the same chapter of their life. 

"What's got y'thinking so hard over there, sweetheart? Making me nervous y'jus' remembered y'left the stove on or something." Harry's joking brought her back to the present, the bright open space of his office greeting her from where she emerged in the back of her head. 

(Y/N) shook her head, "Nothing. I was watching Love Island before I left, and those people are so weird sometimes." As expected Harry's smile turned crooked at the mention of the television show she had managed to get him sucked into on more than one occasion. 

"Yeah? What happened this time?" 

"Too much, I'll have to show you later," (Y/N) brushed off. She could barely remember half of the contestants' names right now, let alone recall any specific scene of the episode she watched today. She had much bigger things on her mind. "Can I ask you something, H?" 

The responding hum he gave her was enough to have (Y/N) pushing at the fries littering her takeaway box as she tried to construct her question. 

"Have you... You've told people about us, right?" 

Harry nodded his head as he plucked a dangling piece of spinach off his melt. "Yeah, I've mentioned y'to my colleagues and all and talked about you at a couple of events and everything. Why?" 

Urging herself to be nonchalant, (Y/N) tried her best despite the robotic motion of her shoulders as she shrugged. "Both of the people I talked to—the receptionists—seemed really surprised to see me." 

"I mean, y'surprised even me, sweetheart," Harry laughed, smiling around the French fry he tossed in his mouth. 

"I know. I guess, it was like they were surprised to see me. Like, they couldn't believe that I was your girlfriend." (Y/N) zipped her lips before she could manage to spill any more of what was running through her head while she had been pinned under the microscope of his employee's gazes. 

 A furrow pinched at his brow as he wiped at his mouth. "I don't really show pictures of you, or anything since 's no one's business," Harry paused as he spoke, "But, I can start doing that if y'want? Was thinking about putting a picture of you on m'desk anyway, so we can start there." 

While the mention of being a fixture on Harry's work desk was a sweet sentiment, that wasn't exactly what she had been shooting for. She didn't know how to tell him about what had happened out in the waiting areas, not wanting to cause any problems or drama, and Harry didn't seem to understand what she was hinting at. She could always bring it up later, once he was out of his work clothes and (Y/N) wasn't feeling so raw from the experience. 

With that thought, (Y/N) brushed off the memories and sunk herself into the leather of her chair. 

"You'd put me on your desk?" she smiled at him, trying not to picture what Seline or Shelly would do if they saw a photograph of Mr. Styles with his co-ed girlfriend in his office. 

"Course," Harry cemented, a sweet smile on his features, "It'd be a whole lot easier than unlocking m'phone every five minutes to see your picture." 

Though there was a dark corner in the back of her mind that couldn't even begin to prune the poisonous weeds growing there, (Y/N) did her best to accept Harry's sweetness as it was. 

He loved her and she loved him back just as much, that was all that mattered. 

—————

By the time (Y/N) made it back to Harry's house, she couldn't think of another time she had been this exhausted. 

Lunch with him was perfect after she managed to banish those inflammatory feelings from her mind, but it was the trek back downstairs when his lunch hour was up that wrung her out. Shelly was behind her desk when (Y/N) left Harry's office, giving her a polite smile and see you later  pinged in (Y/N)'s head knowing that the next time she would see the receptionist would be on her college campus. Seline was just as polite, but still vacant as she flicked her gaze to (Y/N)'s shoes that squeaked over the tile on accident. 

It was nothing they said, but the way they looked at her that had (Y/N) fidgeting on the drive back. Shelly could be a bit of a gossip from what (Y/N) could remember back when they shared a class, and it wouldn't surprise her to find out that the ding she heard from Seline's computer was a message from Shelly dishing about Mr. Styles' girlfriend. 

(Y/N) was an overthinker and she knew that. The stupidest things in class could have her up at night analyzing every moment in fear she said the wrong thing or wasn't nice enough in a single moment. Everything with Andrew and Iris that happened forever ago had made her lose many weeks of sleep trying to figure out where she had gone wrong to cause either of them to treat her so poorly. When she and Harry started getting closer, she remembered the nights she would lay with her eyes on the ceiling trying to figure out if the way he said 'just friends' really meant they were only friends or if she should put more stock in the way he held her to his side and clung to her hand as he walked her home. She spun herself out on more than one occasion, and it appeared her power was needed once more. 

Stepping over the threshold to his house, (Y/N) was washed over with Harry's scent. Though the hallmarks of the typical comfort she felt walking into his space remained, she still had that lingering feeling of being out of place. Just like she had at his office. 

She kept her shoes on as she trekked through the space, forgoing the usual ritual of shucking them off before placing them beside Harry's own collection by the door. Her bag hung limply in her hand as he walked down the hall. She felt ready to bolt at a moment's notice like a spooked animal. 

Though he was partial to hanging art pieces through his home, Harry still had his fair share of personal photos pasted to the walls. A panel dedicated to his family and friends stole (Y/N)'s attention as she approached his room, eyes grazing the pictures. Many were with the friend group she was now apart of, majority with Harry's closest friends of the bunch, Mitch and Sarah. She could see holidays and getaways spent with his people; tan as he vacationed with Mitch and Tom and Jeff in Jamaica, and bundled up with a cap covering his curls while spending time in Japan. 

Trailing her eyes through the photographs, Harry's smile seemed to show the brightest in pictures with his family. More often than not, his mother and sister were tucked underneath his arms, matching smiles on their faces as they gazed into the lens. The trio of them all looked so similar; dark hair and pretty eyes, dimples and high cheekbones. 

(Y/N) wondered if his mom smiled like that when Harry told her about his girlfriend. When he told her that his girlfriend was still in university and had to have Harry order for her when they went out because she was too anxious to do it herself. Did those dimples still crater her cheeks when Harry detailed out how his girlfriend's ID was still skeptically looked at by bouncers and bartenders, a handful of them even blatantly asking if it was a fake or giving Harry a dirty look for corralling some young girl out to the bars with him. (Y/N) wondered how his sister reacted the first time she saw a photo of them on instagram, and even moreso when she had inevitably perused (Y/N)'s page after and found teenaged photos that weren't that far down the feed. 

Did either of them look the way Seline had? Did they share that same shocked surprise that Shelly had written all over her face?

Shaking her head, (Y/N) willed herself to go to his room, tearing her gaze from the wall of photos that she was only using to hurt her own feelings. Those weeds of doubt that had sprouted back at Harry's office had vined around her mind and taken her hostage with no escape route in place. 

(Y/N) knew in her heart that Harry was her perfect match; she could trust herself on that decision. No one had loved or cared for her the way he did. No one she had ever known texted her in the middle of the day just because they saw a bundle of clouds that looked like this little plush dog (Y/N) had loved as a kid. No one called her first thing in the morning with the express purpose of leaving her a voicemail to wake up to. 

She knew that Harry was her perfect match, but maybe she wasn't his. 

Was she holding him back? There could be someone out there that could actually relate to him when he brought up some toy he had as a kid that was discontinued before (Y/N) was even born. Someone who could afford to treat him to more than a cup of coffee or lunch at a greasy diner. There could be someone who could fit him better, but he was too busy entertaining her to find them.

Sinking into the edge of his mattress, (Y/N) hung her head in her hands with her elbows digging into her thighs. She knew she needed to stop herself right now, right where she was in her never-ending process of negativity. She wasn't being rational. 

Harry loved her and he wouldn't waste his time on someone the didn't believe was worth it. And, (Y/N) knew she loved him just as much, if not more than he did her. Spiraling over all of this wasn't helpful to anyone, especially when she knew there was no reason to doubt her gut or her place in Harry's life. 

But, that insecurity that rooted itself in her brain and guilt that had flooded in along with it wasn't that easy to boot. 

Pulling her head from her hands, she looked to the mess of her stuff she had made by his closet door, duffle bag left open with her clothes spilling out from all sides. (Y/N) sighed as she stood up, reaching down to clean up the mess she left on his floor after rifling through for her outfit for the day. In a pang of bitterness, she couldn't help but knock herself down with the thought that Prof Frances would never leave a mess like this at Harry's house. She was too mature, and put together to leave her charging cable laying along the floor with extra underwear hanging out of the side pocket to her bag. 

Taking a deep breath, (Y/N) shoved her things harder into her bag, wrinkling and mushing her clothes into a lump of fabric. She was mad at herself for getting so hung up over this all; it wasn't even bad what was said today! Sure it was a bit annoying to be compared to a teenager and told that her old professor would be a more predictable fit for Harry, but no one was out to hurt her feelings—it had only been herself knocking her down. Slumping back on her heels before her bag, (Y/N) wondered if she might have better luck of shaking this feeling if she just went home. 

There, she could shower using her fancy body scrub that was too hard to transport for sleepovers at Harry's, use her sweet-smelling shampoo and even do a face mask and wipe away everything that had bothered her today. At home she could lick her wounds and be a better partner to Harry when she wasn't so raw and down on herself. While she thought she hid it pretty well over lunch how upset she was, she knew it wasn't fair to Harry to wait for him to come home after a long day and pretend she was in the best of moods. 

With a sigh, brows pinched at the middle, (Y/N) hooked her overnight bag over her shoulder before reaching for her phone. She had her eyes placed on her phone as she left his room, making a point to bypass the wall of family photos without a glance. 

     hey h I think Im gonna go home:( im not feeling super good and really want to shower at my place and sleep some before class tomorrow. ill bring your shirt back after I wash it and everything. sorry :(

Her hands shook as he pressed send before locking his front door behind her. Locking her phone, (Y/N) made her way to her car with a pit in her tummy. It didn't feel good to lie to Harry, especially when it was a lie that would keep her from spending time with him. She didn't even want to see the inevitable sweet text he would send back, most likely offering to drop off soup or come by for a cuddle if she needed someone to help take care of her. In the long run, though, she knew this time apart would be good for them. 

That's why even when Harry texted her back with with a sad face and a promise that it was alright, pretty girl, she couldn't waver. Even when he sent her another message after he had assumed she'd fallen asleep while she was taking her time in the shower that he missed her and couldn't wait to see her later this week. He was here for her if she needed anything, he reminded her. 

Locking her phone without responding that night was the hardest thing she had to do. 

—————

Harry felt his heart ache when he stepped out of the shower, looping towel around his waist as he saw (Y/N) hadn't texted him back still. Poor thing really must not be feeling well if she conked out at seven, his little night owl. 

He hadn't been too surprised when she messaged him earlier in the day to let him know she wasn't feeling well, but it still made his shoulders drop at the prospect of her not being there when he got home. She had been a bit off during lunch, lost in her head and reluctant to eat more than a few bites before she claimed she was full from breakfast still. He was worried about her when he saw that she hadn't even been enticed by the side of macaroni and cheese she ordered for herself, the diner being one of her favorite places to have it. If not for the fact she told him she wanted to get some sleep in so she could be well enough for class tomorrow, Harry would have insisted in going to her place after he got off work. But, he knew that if he stopped by, she would do what she always did and try to stay awake as long as possible with him. 

If she wasn't well enough by Wednesday when they had plans to see one another, he wouldn't take no for an answer to bring her some soup or coddle her through her bug, like she had declined tonight instead for sleep. 

Settling into bed, Harry was wrapped in (Y/N)'s scent that puffed through his comforter as he fluffed it around himself. When he closed his eyes, it was like she was still with him. 

After setting his alarm early enough he had time to call (Y/N) and leave a good morning voicemail and make his cup of coffee before heading to work, Harry filled his head with all the love and affection he wished he could be giving to (Y/N) in that moment. Hopefully she would feel some of it and know he was thinking about her, and could help her feel somewhat better.

Harry hoped she was thinking about him, too.

—————

Though the threat of a day's worth of classes loomed over her head, (Y/N) woke on Wednesday morning feeling worlds better than she had even twenty-four hours prior. She had made the right choice in staying with herself for a couple of days, having all that time to spend with herself to get her head screwed on straight and talk herself down from the spiraling decline she had set herself up for. 

Tuesday had been a hard day to get through, especially as she started the day with a mention of her faux-illness in Harry's morning voicemail. That guilt she felt about holding him back, not being the right person to make him happy only increased ten-fold when she tacked on the fact she had lied to get away from him for a couple of nights. But, since she had all that time to herself she was allowed to wallow for a few hours before being sucked into real life and having to exit her head. 

The reality of it all was that it didn't matter what ran through Seline's head when she saw who her boss's girlfriend was. Same thing with Shelly; she had assumed Harry would be interested in someone like Prof Frances, but that wasn't true. Harry was interested in someone like (Y/N), and she loved him back just as much. That was all that mattered, and if anyone really had any issues, any quarrels about her age or whether or not she was an appropriate person for Harry to be in love with, didn't. She was happy with him, completely dedicated and willing to be in this relationship, and she knew he felt the same. That was all that mattered. 

By the time she'd gone to sleep on Tuesday night, (Y/N) was still happy to have this time to herself (especially since she was doing all kinds of body skincare that entailed her hands to be wrapped in serum soaked gloves and feet to be in the same situation), she missed Harry. At least this time she didn't pretend to be asleep while he was texting her. 

Wednesday morning was a piece of cake by then. The pit of anxiety that had weighed her down since Monday was finally gone, and (Y/N) couldn't have been more excited to see Harry that night. 

She just had to get through class first. 

By the time her final class of the day started—creative writing with Prof Daniels at two p.m every Wednesday and Friday—(Y/N) was excited. She actually really loved the current assignment for the class, and didn't feel even a tint of exhaustion at the idea of having plans after she was done for the day. If she made enough progress on her draft today, she might even be able to share what she had done with Harry and see what he thought. 

After Mr. Daniels made his introduction for the day, reminding the class of the first draft's due date and what themes are meant to be focused on for this assignment, he retired to his office for the hour leaving everyone to independently work and make progress on their drafts. A few of her classmates left once their professor went to his office, getting the attendance grade before going off to do whatever else they wanted for the day, but (Y/N) stayed planted in her spot, headphones in her ears.

Wanting to start off on the right foot when this project was announced, (Y/N) had outlined the general flow of the piece with each of the required themes weaved throughout, making this entire process much easier than she had in the past. (Y/N) had found her groove moments later, typing away at her laptop with quick glances back and forth at her handwritten outline. Much of the class had emptied out for the hour when she bothered to take a look around, but she didn't mind being one of the few that took advantage of this allotted time to finish her work. Besides, she didn't want to go home and forget what time it was while she was working only to have Harry come in to see her still in her sweats when she had something a little bit prettier planned to greet him with. 

When (Y/N) had just made it through the first section of her piece, out of the corner of her eye she noticed someone settling in the seat beside her. A quick glance showed it was one of the girls in her class that she often peer reviewed with, Isla. She was someone (Y/N) had met through Iris but wasn't all that close to either of them, which (Y/N) was thankful for after everything that had happened; she was nice during peer reviews and gave honest feedback, and (Y/N) would have hated having to find someone else in the class if she insisted on being loyal to Iris. 

Isla's body was positioned in her seat to face (Y/N), knees pointed toward her with a smile on her face. Her laptop was still stationed at the typical desk she occupied, so (Y/N) figured she wasn't switching her seating situation. Plucking a headphone out of her ear, (Y/N) paused her music. 

"Hey," she greeted Isla, voice quiet despite the fact almost all of her remaining classmates had their own headphones on and music playing, "What's up?" 

"Hey, (Y/N)," Isla smiled at her, quickly glancing at her phone that was lit up in her lap, "I'm so sorry to bother you, I know we're supposed to be working on our stories." 

"Its okay," (Y/N) brushed off, giving her attention to Isla despite the blinking cursor on her screen that urged her to keep going, "Did you need help with something?" 

Isla shook her head, red curls fluttering around her face, "Oh no, this is actually super weird. But, my roommate told me something that didn't sound right, but I wanted to ask you if it was true." 

A furrow pinched at (Y/N)'s brow as she listened. Couldn't Isla have just googled this? 

"Okay," she started, "I don't know if I'll know the answer, but I'll try." 

Releasing her bottom lip that had gone trapped between her teeth, Isla grabbed for her phone in her lap one more time. "You know Shelly Blake, right?" 

At the mention of Shelly's name, (Y/N) felt all the color drain from her face. Nonetheless, she gave Isla a small nod, rolling her lips between her teeth. She knew where this was going.

"Well, my roommate had brunch with her this morning, I guess, and Shelly said that you're dating her boss," Isla babbled, not being nearly as quiet as (Y/N) wanted, "But I told Kerry—my roommate—that I don't think that's true because I think Shelly's boss is, like, thirty or something. But, Shelly says that you, like, went to her office and went and saw him and all, but, I don't know, I don't believe it. I know you have a boyfriend and all, but it's not him, right?" 

(Y/N)'s mouth ran dry as soon as she heard the mention of Harry's age. Of course, that would be the point of contention as to why there was no way (Y/N) could be dating Shelly's boss. 

She didn't know what to say, but (Y/N)'s silence seemed to be enough for Isla to realize her own answer. (Y/N) worried her fingers in her lap as she tried to come up with something to say, the nourishing mask she had done on her hands the night before making a much harder task of picking at her cuticles. 

"Um, actually," (Y/N) started, feigning a smile on her features so she didn't make this interaction any more awkward by showing that she was hurt, "it is true. I've been dating him for a little while now, and I just went and visited him for lunch on Monday." 

"Oh," Isla sounded, glancing back at her phone before finally locking the device and turning it facedown, "I didn't know that. I guess I always figured the guy you post on instagram was from that tech university that's an hour away or something since I'd never seen him around." 

"Oh, no," (Y/N) shook her head, pleasant face still in place, "He's an executive at Shelly's company in the city. We just don't really hang out on campus and all, obviously." 

"And he's really, like, thirty?" 

That pit (Y/N) had been afraid of returning began to open up in her tummy again, working like a blackhole as it tried to suck her in from the inside out. "Yeah—um, he's thirty-five, actually. His birthday was a couple of months ago." 

"Wow," Isla said simply, brows raising over her eyes, "I had no idea. I didn't even know you liked older guys. Or, that there were any actually cute ones around here that were willing to date college girls." 

Just as (Y/N) was about to explain that while his age was something she found attractive, she wasn't necessarily into 'older guys', she was into Harry, Isla cut her off with a bubbling gasp that fed into a set of laughter. 

"You didn't meet him on one of those sugar daddy sites, did you? Because I've always wondered if they worked, and if you did meet him on one you need to tell me which one because I need to try."

While she knew Isla was only trying to play around, (Y/N) didn't know what to say and knew she wasn't hiding it that well. She was sure Shelly or Seline had the same phrase—sugar daddy—running through their head when they realized her relationship to Harry, but neither of them had said it out loud. There was nothing inherently wrong with those kinds of arrangements, especially when everyone was happy and willing, but to have her love for Harry be reduced down to a relationship based on favors and cash hurt (Y/N) more than she realized it could. She would never use Harry for his money or take advantage of the fact he had the means to take care of her in places where she couldn't. That was never something she ever considered when she met him, or that ever crossed her mind still. 

"Oh my god, (Y/N), I'm so sorry, that's not how I meant it at all," Isla rushed out as soon as she realized her mistake, her hands out between them as if she could wipe her comment out of thin air, "I just realized how that sounded, but I promise I didn't mean it like that, at all! I know he's your actual boyfriend, and its not like that at all. I was only trying to joke around, I'm sorry!" 

"It's okay, it's okay," (Y/N) said, trying to soothe the situation as best she could and hopefully get Isla's volume down before someone overheard her, "I know you were only joking, I just wasn't expecting it, that's all." 

"Are you sure?" Isla edged, features molded into an apology.

"Totally," (Y/N) pressed, "Don't worry about it, okay? It's not a big deal." The blackhole in (Y/N)'s stomach would love to beg to differ, though. 

"Okay," Isla accepted with a reluctant smile, "Its cool if I tell my roommate that its true then? About you and Shelly's boss and all?" 

In this moment, (Y/N) would rather die than have more people know about her relationship status and the opinions that went along with it, but there was no use in stopping it now. "Yeah, of course. Just let her know we didn't meet on a sugar daddy site, so I have no idea how legit those are." 

Her comment drew a laugh out of Isla's lips, finally easing her from her faux-pas. "Thanks, (Y/N). Sorry to bother you, again." 

As Isla stood from her borrowed seat, (Y/N) shook her head. "Its totally fine." 

After sharing quiet goodbyes, (Y/N) was left alone again with Isla settling in her typical post towards the front of the room. Pushing her headphones back into her ears, (Y/N) wanted to resume where she was at in her assignment, but couldn't find the spot in her brain to concentrate. Her outline no longer seemed useful with all of her previous work feeling like it was for naught now that she couldn't concentrate for the life of her. 

She knew her resolve was fragile when she made her peace with those comments she heard on Monday, but she didn't know it was this fragile. 

Not only had she been branded a teenage stalker, but she was now a sugar baby using Harry for his money—two things that had been shared with her in less than a week. The thread holding her sanity together was moments away from snapping if someone shared one more thought about her relationship. 

With another fifteen minutes left of class, (Y/N) just decided pack it up for the day. There was no way she was going to get any work done at this point, too much else on her mind to even begin to focus on her story. With her headphones in and bag slung over her shoulder, (Y/N) made her way out of the lecture hall with a wave over her shoulder to Isla. 

The cool air outside did some good for her as she tried to clear her mind, feeling a little less trapped in the pit in her stomach with so much space around her in the quad. Now that she was alone, (Y/N) felt the urge for her eyes to fill with tears she'd been holding back for days. 

She was just so frustrated, and, god, her feelings were hurt. Why she had to field questions about the validity of her relationship at all was something she didn't understand. Then to add that the three opinions she was given this week weren't the most kind of comments that have ever been shared with her, she wanted to scream with the frustration in her bones. 

Yes, Harry was older than her, and that was where she needed the conversation to stop. She didn't need to hear about how she had been mistaken for being someone's daughter that held misplaced affection for Harry. She didn't need to explain that no, they didn't meet on a dating site with the express purpose of setting up arrangements between wealthy men and girls like herself. Everything extra she had to field and explain was pushing her into that dark, weeded corner in the back of her mind. 

Making it to her car, (Y/N) didn't have the strength to hold back her tears anymore. The tint of her windows shielded the glimmer of her tears as they fell down her cheeks, tracking through the light layer of makeup she applied that morning. Her lungs squeezed as she tried to breath through her sobs the same way her fists did at her sides.

They'd only been together for a little over half a year, and just barely scratched the surface of the kind of comments (Y/N) feared they would get until she was old enough that people didn't notice the gap between them. How much longer could she do this, if she was now sobbing in her car after only a couple of days worth of off-handed comments. 

Without much forethought, (Y/N) reached for her phone and pulled up Harry's contact.  

      i think that bug i had is coming back :( I felt a little better yesterday but today's been really hard so I don't think it would be a good idea to hang out tonight h im sorry:( I don't want to get you sick:( 

She locked her phone before she could see if he was crafting his own reply back or even read the message. She needed to be alone tonight, and that was all (Y/N) let herself focus on as she drove back home.

—————

Coming out of his meeting, Harry couldn't help but let his shoulders fall as he looked at (Y/N)'s text. She still wasn't feeling well? From what she told him yesterday, she was just about good as new. 

There was no way he was going to let her get away with a third day in a row of not feeling well without stopping by or doing his part to help her feel better. 

Typing out a quick reply, Harry told her he was sad to hear she still wasn't feeling good and that he missed her immensely as he mapped out his stop to the shops before rerouting himself to her apartment after he was done with work for the day. She didn't deserve to care for herself when he was perfectly capable of at least making her some dinner and helping her get to bed. 

And, call him selfish, but Harry couldn't wait to see her again.

—————

Armed with a plastic bag containing the ingredients to his favorite chicken soup his mom used to make him when he was young, and a bouquet of flowers he hoped would brighten her day, Harry knocked on the door to (Y/N)'s apartment. That familiar shuffling sound on the other side of the door sounded through the wood as he awaited her, a grin poking at he edges of his lips at the idea of finally seeing her again for the first time since Monday. 

By the time she opened the door with a creak, Harry's smile dropped as soon as it formed. 

(Y/N)'s eyes were red-rimmed and puffy, lashes bundled together in the fresh wetness that had seeped form her tear ducts. She halfway hid behind the door, peering at him with a quiver in her lip as she avoided his gaze. 

"What are you doing here?" 

While that wasn't exactly the greeting he had been hoping for when he decided to come over, he figured he shouldn't have set his standards up so high knowing that she was feeling sick. He had just hoped she hadn't felt so ill she had to cry over it. 

"Oh, sweetheart," Harry crooned as he gazed at her, taking a careful step forward with the toe of his boot edging over the threshold, "How are y'feeling?" 

"I'm alright," she sniffled, running a heavy hand through her hair, "I thought I told you I couldn't see you tonight." 

"I know, I jus' couldn't live with myself if I didn't come help you even a little. I brought some soup for you." The flowers he had bundled against his chest tickled underneath his chin as he readied to take over her kitchen for the night. 

When she hesitated and dropped her gaze to the floor, Harry felt his gut drop. 

"I think you should go home, Harry." 

The nasal tone of her voice accompanied the wobble of her lower lip as she spoke, her eyes flooding with a new set of tears. 

Reaching out with a reluctant hand, Harry reached for her as he tried not to step through the door no matter how badly he wanted to hold her. He didn't want to overwhelm her. 

"Sweetheart, I don't mind that you're sick, 's alright. Jus' let me take care of you, you're worrying me," he pressed. Just as his hand grazed her cheek, (Y/N) took a step back from him, widening the gap between them that was beginning to feel like a trench. 

The way (Y/N) looked up at him afterwards told him she was just as surprised that she had distanced herself. Harry didn't know what was worse: (Y/N) deliberately taking a step away from him when he tried to touch her, or her moving out of the way on instinct, her subconscious keeping him from touching her? 

"Harry, I-I think I need to be alone tonight." 

"(Y/N), really. I don't mind taking care of you, you kno—" 

"I'm not sick, Harry! I just... Let me be alone." 

Harry stood stock-still, shocked by her outburst. The way she curled up on herself afterwards, recoiling form her own words, could have broken his heart if it wasn't already on its way to being shattered from her second request for him to leave. 

"You're—I thought," Harry floundered, his hand with his bouquet of flowers dropping limply to his side, "Y'told me y'haven't been feeling well since Monday." 

Another heavy hand moved its way through her hair, a tug being administered to her scalp. "I know I did, I'm sorry. I just didn't know if I could talk to you af—" 

(Y/N) was cut off by the sound of her neighbour's door opening, a blonde haired girl walking down the hall with an awkward smile stretched on her face as she realized what she had just walked into. (Y/N) reciprocated as much as she could until her neighbour disappeared down the length of the staircase, that was when her smile dropped again. 

He knew she was feeling embarrassed as she stepped off to the side, widening the berth of the door for Harry to fit through. She gestured for him to step inside, though it lacked every bit of enthusiasm that he had grown accustomed to when he visited her. With the plastic bag crinkling at his side and the bouquet of flowers rustling in the wax paper they were wrapped in, Harry stepped through the threshold of her door, her apartment almost completely silent. 

Standing by awkwardly, Harry waited as she locked her door after him and padded her way to her living room where he stood. Swallowing around the lump in his throat, Harry glanced down at the flowers in his grasp. 

"These are for you, by the way," he murmured, offering her the bundle of white magnolias. 

With her gaze attached to the flowers, Harry watched as (Y/N)'s eyes welled up with a new batch of tears. She peeped out a thank you as she pulled the arrangement from his hand, padding off to her kitchen while Harry stood in silence. 

He didn't know what she was about to tell when her neighbor interrupted them, but he almost didn't want to know. Knowing that she hadn't been ill and was using that as an excuse to avoid him was enough to have him on edge already, he didn't want to know why she had been avoiding him in the first place. 

Relenting himself to sit on her couch, sinking into the stuffed cushion, Harry sat with his chin in his hand and elbows digging into his thighs. It felt like hours as he listened to her pull a vase from her cabinet, followed by the running water for the flowers. Normally he would be there helping her, teasing her as she reached for the vase and helping her arrange the blossoms in the water so every stem could take a dip. Not today, Harry guessed, he wasn't needed.

When she finally joined him, (Y/N) took a spot on the opposing chair set up in her living room, the stiff decorative pillow taking up most of the cushion as she sat on the edge. Shifting his chin in his hand, he gazed at her through his lashes as he waited for her to finish what she started. 

As the silence stretched on, Harry felt more and more cracks appear in his heart. He couldn't take much more of this, especially when she couldn't even muster the courage to look at him. What did she need to tell him that was so bad she couldn't even look at him for a second? 

Dropping his face into his hands, Harry slid his fingers through his curls, a startling pinch being delivered to the roots as he tightened his grip. "Why didn't y'want to talk to me, (Y/N)? What happened?" he grumbled out. 

A sniffle sounded from the chair, but he didn't have the heart to look up. It would only make it harder to hear what she had to say if he had to watch her cry, too. 

"Harry, I—" (Y/N) cut herself off, her thought dropping from her tongue before she had even bothered to finish putting it together, "I don't know how to tell you." 

Something bubbled in his chest as he heard her hesitance to speak to hm still, even as he sat right in front of her. Frustration welled up in his system. How was he supposed to make anything better, fix his mistakes that led to her avoiding him, or make her at least stop crying when she wouldn't even tell him what was wrong?! How was he going to have a chance to save them from whatever had dug itself in her mind when he had no idea what he was up against?!

Forcing a deep breath into his lungs, Harry shuttered his eyes as he kept his head down in his hands. The heels of his palms dug into his eyes as he waited, giving her one last chance to say anything before he would take over. 

With the sound of his blood rushing through his ears, Harry unclenched his jaw, "Start with why y'wanted to avoid me so bad y'pretended to be sick for almost three days." 

"It's not that simple, H—" 

"Then, what happened?! What did I do wrong?! You jus' keep sitting there, crying, but y'wont tell me what I did wrong or how to fix it!" 

By that point, Harry was grateful for the fact his eyes were closed as he pulled his head from his hands, chancing a look up at (Y/N) though that view was quickly distorted by his own round of tears that flooded his vision. Sniffing his nose, Harry scrubbed his hands over his eyes to rid himself of the tears, still too frustrated to worry about them when (Y/N) still hadn't explained. 

With her fingers a nervous bundle in her lap, (Y/N) broke with her bottle lip wobbling and eyes closed as if to stave off another round of crying. "It was when I vi-visted you at work." 

Nodding his head, Harry took in deep breaths, already regretting the way he snapped at her. "Okay, thank you," he started, softening his tone as he gave her to the full of his attention, "What happened?" 

(Y/N) shook her head as she ran her hand through her hair, rolling her eyes at herself. "It wasn't even that big of a deal, so I don't know why it's bothering me so bad," she rushed out, voice wobbling, "It was just... Seline? That receptionist on the lobby floor?" 

Harry nodded his head, beginning to worry at the mention of Seline. She could be a bit cold, that much everyone at the office knew. 

"She—I don't know, it was just weird when I talked to her. I know I wasn't on your permission list or whatever since I was surprising you, but she said something after she figured out that I was there to see you that's just stuck with me." (Y/N) swallowed, her eyes still facing the ceiling as Harry waited on her, his fingers prattling with his rings. "She... She said she didn't want to let me up at first because she wasn't sure if I was a daughter of one of your clients, coming to visit Mr. Styles after getting too attached over a busy dinner." 

Rolling his lips between his teeth, Harry nodded his head. Sounded like Seline, that was for sure. 

(Y/N) finally chanced a glance down at him then, feeling somewhat more calm now that she was getting everything out that had been rattling her brain for almost three days now. 

"Then," she continued, surprising Harry as he had just began devising some kind of plan to keep Seline from being so rude to people in the waiting area,  "I didn't realize that the Shelly on your floor was someone I go to school with." Harry sighed as he figured out where this was going. "She was really surprised to see me," (Y/N) muttered, fluttering her lashes as she tried to keep her waterworks at bay, "As soon as I told her I was your girlfriend, she got kind of weird and told me she didn't expect your girlfriend to be someone like me. When I asked her what she meant, she brought up this professor that used to work at my school, that everyone thought was really pretty, and was around your age, obviously. It wasn't that bad but after what I heard from Seline, it didn't really help.

"And then, today, I guess Shelly got brunch with the roommate of a girl in my creative writing class, and they apparently talked about how I'm dating Shelly's thirty year old boss, and the girl in my class asked if I met you on a sugar daddy website." 

Now, that stung. The other two comments she shared with him hurt him for the fact it was hurting (Y/N), cheap shots taken at their relationship that questioned the depth of it just because of the gap between their ages. But this one—the implication that their relationship was nothing more than Harry giving out money and gifts in exchange for (Y/N)'s company—took a stab at his heart. 

Harry knew what a relationship would look like to others the second he took a liking to (Y/N). That was why, other than wanting to maintain (Y/N)'s happiness and comfort in her friend group, he didn't pursue her. He knew that someone of his age and position financially wasn't supposed to mix with a college-age girl that had piled on student loans and worked as much as she could on the side to help pay for school. He knew that those two things could invite people to make comments or pull faces, he knew that. But, maybe they had just been lucky with how well it was going beforehand; their friends didn't mind, never once making a comment or raising a brow at the idea of the two of them together, along with his family being so supportive when he divulged details about his (Y/N), and even strangers on the street didn't give them a second glance. They had been successfully missing any of these comments up until this point, and, of course, it was (Y/N) who had to endure them. 

If he hadn't already felt like shit for yelling at her earlier, now he felt like he should go sit on the curb with the rest of the trashbins. 

Rising from his position on the couch, Harry moved to crouch in front of (Y/N). Instinctively, she spread her legs wide enough to allow him access to sit between. Settling his hands on either of her thighs, he waited on her to return to her living room with him, leaving the dark space of her head behind. 

"(Y/N)?" he murmured, squeezing the full of her flesh in his palms, "Look at me, love." 

Running her fingertips under her eyes, (Y/N) cleared her tears away before she looked down at him, her bottom lip trembling though she tried to hold it all back. "I'm sorry, Harry." 

"Hey, hey," he crooned, shaking his head, "Don't need to be sorry, okay? Don't need to apologize for what they said." 

"B-But, I shouldn't have stopping seeing you or talking to you over it," she countered, dropping her gaze to her lap though she didn't dare lace her fingers between his like she usually did, "I just didn't know what to do. I started to feel guilty." 

"What do you mean, pretty girl? Guilty over what?" 

"Li-Like I was holding you back or something," she whispered, the volume of her voice being the only thing that kept it from breaking, "I-I don't want you to mi-miss out on someone who might fit you better. Or, at least be able to handle something like this without avoiding you." 

Harry shook his head as he stood to his feet, reaching for her hands that were bundled into a fumbling mess as she kept them from grabbing for his. Wrapping his fingers around her wrists, he pulled her to stand up before he replaced himself in her seat. The decorative pillow was crushed under his weight, becoming an uncomfortable lump under his bottom but Harry didn't pay it any mind as he pulled (Y/N) to sit in his lap. Her legs hung over the side of his own, her shoulder pressed against his chest as he looped his arms around her, interlocking his fingers as they rested on her hip. 

"You've got to listen to me, (Y/N), 'kay?" Harry waited until he got a small nod from her, eyes meeting his through the frame of her lashes. "There's no one out there that could fit me better than y'do, do you hear me? I had some extra time before I ever even met you to meet this better fit, and I've never found anyone that comes close to the way y'make me feel. There's no one out there that would love me better than y'can, and I know that. Don't feel guilty over something that doesn't exist." 

"But—" 

"No, I told y'to listen to me, didn't I?" Harry stopped her, unwilling to hear her make up fake scenarios about someone who didn't exist. "It hurts knowing that these comments made y'want to avoid me, but I understand why because I understand you. Y'weren't trying to hurt me, y'jus' wanted some time to yourself to be a little mopey and figure it all out before y'saw me again—I understand. Right?" 

"Yeah," she peeped, her cheeks heating and eyes watering as she listened to him, "I didn't mean to hurt you, Harry." 

"I know, I know," he murmured, dropping a careful kiss to her cheek, his heart eased when she didn't flinch away. "And 'm not upset now that I know, okay? Don't need to be sad over that. And, 'm sorry I yelled at you; I got scared when y'wouldn't say anything, but I shouldn't have done that. We're a team and teams don't work when one of us is being mean." The small nod and I forgive you, that (Y/N) gave him allowed for a short smile to carve into Harry's lips before he grew serious. "I jus' need y'to be honest with me for a second, then." 

A short nod came from (Y/N) as her hands unraveled, finally relieving Harry as she curled her fingers around his forearm to keep him close. 

Swallowing, Harry tried to figure the best way to phrase any of his questions. "Do you...Did any of what these people said make y'doubt being with me?"

Her answer was immediate in the shake of her head, stray strands of hair fluttering around her face, "No, no, no. I love you so much, Harry, I just want you to be happy. I don't want you to be bothered one day when you realize I'm not at the same spot as you; I don't know all of those references you make and I can't take you out for fancy dinners the way you do for me. At least not until I'm out of school." 

"I don't—... None of that matters to me, okay?" he reassured her with a squeeze of his arms around her, "I don't care about any of that. I like getting to see y'grow and learn and I never expect you to pay me back for any of the things I do for you. I don't understand all of your little jokes, either, sweetheart, and I know that doesn't bother you, because you're like me in that way. We love being with each other, and that's what makes us happiest, so that's all that matters. Right?" 

A watery smile worked its way on her lips as she nodded her head. "Right." 

"See, sweetheart," he cooed, "As long as we're on the same page about that, we can get through anything, can't we?" He was rewarded with another short nod and quiet smile. "'M sorry that y'were the one that had to hear those things, and I want y'to know that y'never have to hide that from me again. Tell me and I'll help talk y'down, okay?"

"Okay." 

"Good girl," he praised her, even when she couldn't speak louder than a whisper and manage a smile bigger than the one on her lips if she didn't want her features to crumble. "'M always gonna help you, jus' need y'to tell me how. Can y'promise me that?" 

"I promise, Harry." 

"M'best girl, aren't you?" he crooned to her, dropping his face to nudge his nose again her own. Her smile grew as she took in his words, just as he wanted. "Can I kiss you, sweetheart?" he asked her the full of his lips brushing against her own. 

The quiet nod he gave him was all he needed before he pressing his lips in affectionate pecks all over her face, starting with her plush lips. With each dot of his lips over her skin, more and more bubbling giggles fell from (Y/N)'s smiling mouth, his grip on her tightening as she wiggled in his lap. The bridge of her nose was smothered in his love before he tapped over her cheeks with his lips. Her forehead wasn't spared in the carnage either, getting as many kisses as he could fit in the space until he had to drop his kisses to her eyelids. The salt of her tears was bittersweet as he tasted them on his kiss; sweet knowing that he was able to quell them, but the bitter taste lingered knowing that they started in sadness. By the time he made his way back down to her lips, she was smiling too big to pucker her lips against his. 

"Kiss me back, pretty girl," he murmured, his own amusement seeping into his tone no matter how hard he tried to keep it held back. 

That was all the encouragement she needed before (Y/N) was cradling his face in her hands and trying her best to kiss him through her smile. It was clumsy and off-center, not perfect by far, but it was easily one of Harry's favorite kisses he's ever shared with her. This was where all of her sweetness concentrated itself: in her kiss as she nudged her nose against his and breathed out giggles every time Harry pulled away. 

"I love you," she spoke against his kiss. 

"I love you too, sweetheart, always," he murmured, drawing away just enough to match his gaze to hers. "Me and you, remember?" 

The mantra he had repeated to her more than once brought a bright smile to (Y/N)'s face. 

"Me and you, H." 

—————

angst is always so hard for me to write so I hope everyone enjoys this! thank u sm for reading and sorry for any mistakes! if you have any ideas or requests of your own please send them in:)

[nonexistent-introvert]

Fondness

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Word count: 1.9k

Content: fluff, idiots in love, some?jealousy, confessions.

A/N: I figured I have been writing too much angst so..fun fact: Buckley is an actual dog that can be found in the TLOU games so there you go.

SIDE NOTE: IM SORRY I DIDNT KNOW DOGS CANT EAT GRAPES 😓😭 MY BAD

    “Can I ask you a question?” Joel was rubbing his neck, his eyes wandering the small diner that Jackson has managed to set up. “Spit it out already.” You answered, taking another bite of the pancakes on your plate. Joel covered his mouth with his hand, his eyes gauging you for a reaction that he himself didn’t know for what reason. He inhaled, forcing himself to blurt out the words before he just loses the courage to bring it up again. 

    “How do you know if you like someone?” You spluttered upon hearing his words. He instinctively pushed the latte you had ordered towards you. You glanced up at him as you took sips of your latte, wondering if Joel was serious. There was no hint of a smile or any form of humour that would have made his previous question seem like a joke. “Uh.. umm.” Your mind was blank, having absolutely zero answers. You furrowed your eyebrows at him, “You’re the one who was married.” You pointed out to him. Joel let out a breath that he didn't realize he was holding. “I just want an opinion.” You gave him a judgemental look, absent-mindedly cutting your pancakes into bite-sized portions. “Uh… I-” There were so many words but yet nothing seemed to make sense. It was embarrassing to admit that you practically had zero experiences when it comes to anything romantic. “I really don’t know what to say.” You admitted. “People tend to say things like you would just know. But I don’t think I ever experienced it.” You shrugged. How would you know something you never experienced, how would you meet someone and just think that they are a good fit for you? This concept never made sense to the logical part of you. 

   Joel’s shoulders deflated ever so slightly as he weighed your answer in his mind. A silence fell as Joel occupied himself with his thoughts while you focused on the food before you, giving yourself some time to ponder his question.  

   “I guess when you think of someone all the time. You search for them in crowds and subconsciously remember every detail about them.” You broke the silence. Joel looked at you, still mindlessly taking bites of your pancake. “Huh.” He merely grunted. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at him. It was one of your greatest complaints about him, Joel wasn’t one for words, preferring to answer with random sounds instead of actual words. When you first met him through patrol you had thought he hated you because of that. Thought that he didn’t want anything to do with you until you brought up the issue with Tommy who reassured you that his stoic brother has always been like this. 

   “You’re so boring, Joel.” You sighed exasperatedly when he answered another one of your remarks with a hum. Those words finally seemed to snap him out of his daze. He merely blinked at you, an ignorant look on his face. He let out a small “What?”, taken aback at your sudden comment. “It’s a conversation, Joel! You’re supposed to engage in it not reply to me with sounds. I thought you hated me when we first met because of that.” You admitted it was probably his first time hearing about this. If Tommy didn’t tell him first. He let out a chuckle, “I am not boring.” He defended, he knows you well enough to know when you truly mean your insults. “I can literally predict your responses.” You challenged. He raised his eyebrows, “O-“ “Ok.” You finished his word for him. It was your turn to look smug, you looked at him and how he slowly realised that he had just proven your point. 

   “I guess I am boring. Sorry for that.” Joel admitted with a guilty smile. “I’ll- I’ll try not to.” He promised. You merely shook your head at him. “What brought about the sudden question? You have someone in mind?” Joel smirked, “if I do?” You shrugged at him, “You can spill it. Or you can just keep it to yourself. I don’t really care.” 

   A lie. Of course you cared. 

   Joel drummed his fingers against the surface of the table. He contemplated ordering another cup of coffee but he doubted it would help his nerves. “Well I can’t stop thinking of her. I search for her in crowds. I leave my house at 10am everyday when I don’t have patrol hoping i would catch a glance of her when she passes by my porch when she takes her morning walks.” You let out a sigh, “Joel, you were once married. I haven’t even caught feelings for anyone since I was 16 and even I can tell just based of your words that you’re head over heels.” You cut him off, maybe deep down you didn’t want to hear it. Joel laughed, “Since you were 16? That’s decades ago. Even before the world turned to shit.” “I didn’t have a life ok? Everyone just seemed so childish.. and well I had better things to do then pursue a relationship.” You kicked him under the table. He simply chuckled, “You're right. Those boys didn’t deserve you anyways.” You turned your gaze away from him as you felt your cheeks heat up. Joel may be laughing, but your words made his body tense ever so slightly. Reading between the lines, what if it really meant that you didn’t have romantic feelings for anyone up till now? Then was he a fool for wanting to put this friendship on the line because he got greedy? 

   “So are you going to tell me who it is… or are we just going to move on.” You pursued but still gave him enough space to back out. Joel hummed, intertwining his hands as he casually cracked his knuckles and stretched. Trying his best to act as nonchalant as possible.

   “It’s-“

   “Joel!” Both your eyes turned to the person who had just interrupted the most crucial point of the conversation. “Oh, Esther. Hey.” Joel greeted while you nodded at her in acknowledgment. Her hands immediately fell into his shoulders casually. You shuffled in your seat uncomfortably, searching the crowd in the diner for a reason to slip away. 

  “Thanks for last night. It’s been a while since-“ It was childish but you had forced yourself to stop eavesdropping by forcing an annoying tune into your head. It wasn’t your place to know what happened between them last night. Although you felt idiotic for not catching on earlier. Esther always carried a torch for Joel, you had only realised when you overhead people gossiping about them. You just never expected Joel to reciprocate her feelings. 

   You cleared your throat, “Here take a seat. I was just leaving anyways.” You quickly stood up and gestured to the seat and left before anyone else could say anything. You had to get out, had to give yourself time to process the information as you maneuver your way through the morning crowd. 

   “Sorry, another time alright?” Joel quickly excused himself from the table. Not caring how bad it looked from an outsider’s perspective. Joel ran out of the diner, running his hands through his hair as his eyes searched for you. When Joel spotted you again, he heaved a sigh of relief. You were sitting by Buckley’s side while leaning against a tree. Buckley is Jackson’s supposed guard dog but being the friendly cheerful dog he is, he never seemed quite suitable for that job. So instead, Buckley roams the streets of Jackson, entertaining the children and accompanying most of the residents. In return, he gets treats and pats. 

      “I wasn’t supposed to feel that way.. I was supposed to be happy for him and tease him after.” You ranted softly to Buckley who was laying his head in your lap. Buckley merely whimpered in response as you continued to slowly massage the spot behind his ears. “You plannin’ on replacing me with Buckley?” The sound of Joel’s voice made your face turn red ever so slightly, wondering if he heard your sorry rant to Buckley. “Aren’t you-um... With Esther?” You questioned. “I’m with you.” Joel’s gaze punctured right through you. “Why did you leave?” His gaze softened, his eyebrows furrowing into a frown. Buckley looked up at Joel, an exasperated look on his face. As though even he thought that Joel was an idiot. 

   “I just thought that you would rather..spend your time with her.” Joel scoffed. He stared at you his brown eyes carried a hint of disappointment at your response. He unfolded his arms from his chest. 

   “I don't know what I have to do for you to understand that…” Joel moved closer to you, his eyes never leaving yours. “I will choose you every time. It will always be you.” Your breath hitched in your throat. Joel and your relationship had always been complicated. Close friends were what you told most people, yet you turned up as his date on multiple occasions. You lived in the same house as him, in his spare room. The spare room he wanted to turn into his workshop but put off that idea because he hoped that you would continue staying with him. The both of you were practically partners in everything except when it comes to partners in a relationship. 

   Your eyes searched desperately for a hint of his emotions. Unsure if he meant what he’s saying to you in that specific way or was it just a passing comment. Joel sighed at your wandering eyes, he knew that you were trying to decipher if he meant it. He scratched the back of his neck, “Close friends?” He scoffed again at himself. 

   “I can never see you as just a friend because I see my future with you.” Joel cringed every so slightly at his own words. Did his words even make sense? Hell, he really should have taken the time to improve his literature if he knew he was going to pull some abstract philosophical sentence when he is confessing to you. You stared at him blankly, unsure of how to react despite knowing exactly how you felt for him. “I- I just mean- I want to be with you forever, I want to be with you till the end of time, till our hair turns white, and when I finally can laugh at your white hair as retribution for how you always tease me for mine.” Joel rambled, he knew he was. His heart lightened when he heard the sound of your chuckle at his last comment. 

    “I would like to too.” You admitted, a blush tinting your cheeks. 

    Joel doubted he had ever pulled someone into his arms in such record timing before. In a split second, before your mind could even comprehend it, his arms were on your hips and his lips were on yours.     It felt like the beginning of a new chapter. 

 —---------------------------------------------------------

    “Goddamn boy..” Tommy stood from a distance, watching everything unfold. His hands ruffled through the fur on Buckley’s head. Buckley had run into the stables that Tommy was in and dragged him here. Just in time for him to witness Joel finally making his move on you. “This really is some treasure you brought me.” He whistled, laughing a little as he rewarded Buckley with some oranges he had just picked up from the greenhouse.

[joanofarcbutsilly]

shake the frost

simon “ghost” riley x reader

TW: angst to comfort!!!!!! simon and reader’s relationship is undoubtedly toxic (don’t worry it gets better), simon is not emotionally available in the slightest, mentions of sex in a friends with benefits type relationship but nothing is ever described, small disagreement, there’s kind of a breakup???? but it ends happy

not requested but this is for @corvusmorte who had commented on my last post about this song tehehe

simon has this undeniable coldness to him

he just seems to reek of apathy for his fellow man

upon first glance, you might think simon is just another product of military training. in general, for the type of work simon does, anyone would have to be able to distance themselves from people and the emotions they come with. i mean soap is normally a genuinely kind and thoughtful individual, but turns into a whole different being while on the field

simon is just different though. it doesn’t seem like he has any ability to turn it off, it’s just a part of him

without really knowing him, it’s easy to imagine peeling back this layer of his personality and finding a deep dark void where his soul should be

he is absolutely aware of this general aura and has never had the urge to make a change

he doesn’t get a lot of good first impressions because of this, and very rarely does anyone ever attempt to chip away at his shell

i cant stress enough it is HARD WORK to get to know this man

the fastest way to foster a connection with him is through a friends with benefits type situation (although he will not refer to you as a friend either, you are just a coworker with whom he has sex)

when you DO come to understand him a bit better from piecing little morsels of information together, you come to understand that his coldness is just a means to defend himself

years of pain and mistreatment quite literally from the day of his birth has turned him into a cornered dog, gnashing and thrashing at any attempts to get closer, wether you be friend or foe

knowing his reasons for this is one thing, but putting up with it is another. having empathy for his predicament does NOT mean that you should have to put up with any of his unkindness

i just imagine being in a relationship (if you can even call it that) with simon, built purely on physical interactions. you are someone to warm his bed, plain and simple, and he is not afraid to tell you this.

he has his moments, where he tries, in his own way, to maintain the connection you two have fostered

he’ll pick up little trinkets for you on his travels, little reminders that he DOES in fact think about you when you’re out of his room.

he’s also a pillar of stability for you. no matter the burden you carry. simon is one of those people who you just feel more relaxed by extension because he DOES NOT FREAK OUT

you can also take comfort in the fact that simon will ALWAYS be there to protect you. he will ALWAYS have your back, and even if he doesn’t vocalize it, you know that he would kill or die for you without an ounce of hesitation

he cares, not outwardly.

and you know, you KNOW he cares even if he doesn’t say it, you KNOW. but it can be so incredibly draining to be carrying the entire emotional burden of your relationship (which he vehemently denies the existence of)

so things can be good! you and simon have great moments! but some not so great ones as well

as mentioned, he refuses to acknowledge your importance in his life. and even though you can pick up on the clues of his actual thoughts and feelings on you and your whole arrangement, it can be so exhausting to be told and shown the opposite

some nights after your escapades he will let you stay, and sometime in the middle of the night you’ll wake up to a heavy arm across your abdomen and a heavy sigh. you breathe just a little bit quieter and resist the urge to rearrange yourself so as to not wake him up

the next day, he makes no mention of his midnight affection, so neither do you. you think you have turned a corner in the relationship.

but the next time you two- ahem- get together… following the activity he scoops up your things from the floor and drops them next to you on the bed with his eyes straight ahead. while you just kinda sit there in a disappointed stupor he silently walks to his bathroom, and you can feel the unsaid demand to leave his room before he gets back.

this is a pretty typical pattern, there’s the initial hope following an abnormally affectionate behavior or moment, which is immediately crushed when simon all but launches himself away to maintain a comfortable emotional distance from you.

you cannot vocalize your discomfort with this dynamic either. bringing this up would immediately start up an argument, where simon says that you are overreacting, and you knew what this was and what you are to him. this can end up happening a lot, he avoids healthy emotional communication like the PLAGUE.

after some time together you come to learn what sets him off in a fighting mood.

a BIG one to avoid is “prying” into his past. you cannot and should not be the one to ask any personal questions. all you’re going to get is a pissed off simon and a response along the lines of how “if he wanted to he’d tell you”

anything and everything you know about simon’s history is the result of a slip of the tongue, or the occasional comment by him or someone else on the 141

past this, it’s up to you to use your detective skills to piece together a timeline of simon’s life

following every fight or disagreement with simon there is a gap wherein you might as well be strangers.

the silence almost seems like a punishment, which makes fights absolutely unbearable. you’ve always got the thought in the back of your head that you two might never come back from this, and to keep any kind of connection with simon you’ve got to walk around eggshells for the foreseeable future.

the silence is hard, but he also just has his outbursts on occasion where he just absolutely snaps on you

these breaks happen in his own moments of emotional instability, like after a nightmare

when you do end up staying the night with him, and you hear the even cadence of his breathing suddenly interrupted before he tenses behind you, it’s critical to just lay there and pretend it’s not happening. should you wake him up, you have to pretend he was just snoring or moving around too much, and under no circumstances should you let him know you’re aware of his bad dream.

one such occasion ended up being the proverbial straw that broke the camels back. you finally believed the dynamic between you and simon was comfortable enough that you did wake him up and alerted him to the fact that you were aware of his bad dream, and of course he could tell you anything, and talking about nightmares with someone else often helps you get a better nights sleep, he just stared at you with a blank look for a few seconds. he then threw himself up to sit facing away from you, taking some deep breaths that slowly devolved into a growl. you hesitantly said his name again, which apparently set him off, standing abruptly and shoving his nightstand.

“ghost,” he corrects flatly between clenched teeth, “get out.”

it was clear to see there was no arguing with him, so you just peel his shirt over your head and set it on the bed before dressing and all but running away.

simon makes no attempts to talk to you for a while following this incident, and it is was honestly for the best. you love him, but you cannot put yourself in the position to be hurt by him again. this is the forced distance you need to make a break from you very clearly unhealthy situation.

this goes on for months following the initial confrontation, no late night rendezvous, no talks, no nothing. absolutely cold turkey.

the rest of the 141 is so sick and tired of you both during this for various reasons. they can all feel the tension rolling off of you both when you are either in each other’s presence, or one of you is brought up. price, although he does care for the well-being of his teammates, needs to make sure that all of the cogs of the machine are in working order. soap hates that ghost is in emotional turmoil, but can do nothing about it because any hand extended in simon’s direction might be ripped off. gaz is not as close with ghost as soap is, and doesn’t have a real concern in the leadership side of things, but absolutely hates the anxiety it causes. he misses just having fun with his teammates, but now he knows any teasing could go unbelievably wrong.

all of this comes to a head after a particularly grueling mission which lands you and soap in medical. soap ended up fine, he just had a dislocated shoulder and a nasty slash on his leg that the doctors wanted to keep a little bit of an eye on to avoid anything worse. soap was a good bedside companion, and easy company compared to the new norm of being constantly on edge. but all good things had to end, and johnny was freed from bed-rest and had to get back to work after just a few days. you weren’t gifted the same luck, and ended having to stay an entire week due to a broken ankle and a not so great concussion. sitting in the dark and sleeping constantly was a nice break, but it’s inevitable to get a bit stir crazy.

there was honestly nothing that could have been done, it was just a shit show. despite it not really being anyone’s fault, price is not quiet about the fact that maybe things could have gone better if two CERTAIN INDIVIDUALS could act like ADULTS and COMMUNICATE at WORK without RUINING THE TEAM DYNAMIC. price comes to you with this message, which usually would be unwelcome, but after being bored out of your mind, any human interaction was a welcome experience. price also makes the not so subtle threat of forced therapy should you and ghost not talk to each other within the next week (this was not so welcome). you assure price that you will talk to ghost when you’re off of rest.

this ends your little vacation, and you have to start thinking about how you are going to go about discussing this with simon

you have to sit there with nothing else to do other than twiddling your thumbs and staring at the ceiling, stewing in the pit of anxiety that’s brewing in the base of your stomach.

the confrontation comes much sooner than you’d like

just a day before your release you’re going along with your usual rumination of your expected conversation with simon, the metal rings of the curtain around your bed screech as they’re pulled back. a nurse sticks her head in through the window with a smile and tells you that you have a visitor.

much to your surprise you see ghost in full gear standing by the door like a vulture or some sort of gargoyle.

you stare at each other for a moment before you break eye contact and pretend to busy yourself with sorting out your bedding. without looking you hear the scuff-scuff of simon’s shoes dragging across the floor, and then the scream of a chair being carried along for the ride.

simon positions the chair next to your bed and takes a seat.

there’s a long stretch of silence which you decide to break, just to get the conversation over with, you tell him price already explained the situation to you. you apologize for any uncomfortableness on the field and end with a generic “i hope that going forward this will not affect our work relationship”

simon sighs after you finish and the silence returns yet again.

this time you decide that the ball is officially in simon’s court although you couldn’t have expect his next move

ghost leans forward and rests his arms on his knees, allowing his head to meet his hands.

despite his now floor facing position, it’s quiet enough to hear him apologize. simon says he’s sorry. he says the way he treated you was unfair and needlessly cruel.

still a bit shocked, you remark that although his actions did hurt you, you appreciate the apology.

you decide it is only fair that for all the pain he caused, he should sit in the same silence he had left you in all of those times before. he would not find comfort in you.

it takes a while for him to respond, just telling you that he knows.

you tell simon again that you appreciate the apology, but there is nothing much else to say about the matter. as much as he doesn’t want to admit it, you understand him more than he’d like. you know that he is a good person even if he doesn’t think so. but he hurt you. your only crime was trying to be there for him. you tell him it was so unfair for him to treat you like you had done something horribly wrong by attempting to be closer to him. to constantly send you mixed messages about what the two of you were and the nature of your relationship was. you told him you felt like an idiot. for following him around as if he hadn’t already very clearly shown you what he thought of you. it simply wasn’t fair. if all he wanted was sex, you could have helped him find a hooker, hell, you would have payed for it, just to make things clearer for yourself.

simon’s shoulders raise and his chest expands with an uncharacteristically shaky breath. you look away after this, unwilling to admit that for all he’s caused, his pain is directly linked to yours, and seeing him in any kind of distress causes a physical response in you.

this is why you don’t notice when simon moves his hand from his knee to the railing of the bed. you only notice when you hear the his hand sliding across the fabric of the thin sheet that covers you. unwilling to investigate visually where this is going, you continue pretending the ceiling is more interesting than whatever the hell simon is doing.

your feigned boredom makes the surprise of simon resting his hand on yours all the more shocking. this must show on your face, because when you snap your head up to meet simon’s eyes, he seems a bit hesitant. despite this, he keeps his hand on yours, letting the unspoken question of wether this was ok hang thick in the air.

you nod and he nods back, curling your hand around to entwine your fingers with yours and starts rubbing his thumb back and forth across your knuckles.

he apologizes again. and says he knows you’re a good person. he knows you mean no harm, but he’s just afraid. he can’t help but think of how people who were supposed to love him treated him, and what happened to those who actually did. he knows this isn’t an excuse, but he needed to tell you. he needed to tell you that he misses you.

this is new. very new. you could never have dreamed of a conversation of this nature taking place with simon, and yet there you were

he tells you how much you mean to him, even if he doesn’t say it, and it’s not fair that you he can’t tell you.

there’s more silence, you don’t know if you could respond even if you tried

simon continues

he tells you he loves you

this obviously doesn’t fix everything, simon still has so much trouble believing your good intentions, but the difference now is that he’s trying

he decides that if he wants a real future with you he has to put in the work, so at your gentle suggestion, he asks price about his options for some therapy services he can get into contact with through the military (price choked on his own smoke)

you can still see simon trying to pull away sometimes but he warns you

when he comes back from a mission you hadn’t gone on for whatever reason, he will tell you if he had a particularly hard time. how he’s not feeling like himself at the moment and might need some space in the coming days.

he’s come to discover that this is much preferable to how he handles things before. you don’t get mad at him, you thank him with a comforting smile, telling him that you appreciate the fact that he told you and if he wants to talk about it you’ll be right here.

the nightmares are getting better too- well not the subject matter, but how he handles them

you’ll wipe the sweat from his brow after a nightmare and he tenses like he did when you thought it was over, but now he takes a few shuddering breaths before yanking you to him, arms wrapped around you in a vice grip and face shoved into the crook of your neck. he’s still tense, but not in the flight response you’re used to. breathes in your scent and mutters a gruff thank you as he tries to settle back into sleep. he hasn’t worked up the courage to tell what they’re about yet, but he takes comfort in the fact that you’ll be there for him if he needs.

he starts telling you things too.

simple things at first, like when he first read his favorite book. how his favorite color is dark blue because it reminds him of a blanket he had as a kid. you made some cookies for him one time, and he said he loved them, and told you about the last time he remembers having that sweet treat with his family.

most of it seems trivial, but such a huge step in the right direction it’s almost like he has been replaced by some imposter.

the culmination is when he takes you back to where he was raised. he walks you through the streets, hand in hand, and periodically stops to grab your attention. he will point out where he had his first job, his favorite restaurant that he only really liked because it was his moms favorite.

he is so much… more… now

the new best part of every day is when you and simon part ways for the day

as you go off to leave your practically shared room in the morning, simon always catches the you by the arm to bring you closer. he raises your hand to his lips, and closes his eyes, mumbling a quiet i love you against your skin

AHHHHHHHHHHHHH THIS IS SO LONG

requests are open!

[fishsticksloser]

OKAY NOW I HAVE ANOTHER ONE!

If it’s not a problem ofc! <333

F!Donnie x gn F!reader

It’s in the apocalypse while fighting Kraang!

Donnie stayed in their hiding place, to control his tech and observe, very important if you ask me. (He was the eyes of resistance)

April, reader and turtles were fighting with Kraangbots. At some point they sent reader to finish the mission.

(They had to get to Technodrom and destroy it)

When reader got there, they called Donnie for help and what to do. Donnie scanned everything and sighed frustrated bc he realised they cant don’t do anything! The whole mission was just a waste of time and people!

Reader however, just freezes. Purple is like "wait- are you- what’s wrong? Is is connection¿” he tries to find a reason to why reader is not moving, maybe it’s Bad Signal? But how? His tech is way beyond that!

In the same time, reader just turns to hologram Donnie, looks at him with sad smile, turns off, breaks and throws away the comunicator and sacrifices themselves. (I Imagine them just walking into the heart of technodrom and it causes them to be painfully destroyed, kind of like mikey with portal, just to after seconds explode with the technodrom)

Technodrom is destroyed. People are happy! They did it! The mission is a success! They didnt fail.

But what they don’t know. Is that the comunicator was Never broken nor turned off. Donnie saw everything.

There for My Final Breath

F!Donnie x gn!reader

Warnings: bad future, violence, painful death, explosions, angst, Donnie centered 2nd person, swearing, injuries, panic attack?, nightmares, Leo comforts Donnie, NO TCEST

A/N: Hi... Who hurt you? I just wanna talk to them, yeah? On a separate note, sad ending :)

Donnie runs the scans, checking for any way to destroy the Technodrome. He sighs heavily, holding his head in his hands as he leans against the desk. He looks back up at the hologram of you, frustrated and ready to just throw anything - everything, really.

"Get the hell out of there, there's nothing we can do." He grits, starting to send the information to Leo and the others on the front lines. "Such a waste of time and resources... I told Leo..." His words fade as he looks back up and sees you frozen on his screen. He runs a diagnostic to see if - for some reason, though he knows it shouldn't - your communicator froze. "Y/N? Y/N? What's going on?" He asks, a bit panicked.

You turn and smile at him sadly. It finally registers what your plan is and he starts screaming at you not to do it. He quickly changes tries to get a hold of anyone on the front lines to stop you, but they're all busy trying to stop the Kraang from getting to you. You drop your communicator, thinking you turned it off.

Donnie starts to grab his battle shell, strapping it on and moving your call to his wrist tech. He's still yelling, but he realizes that you've muted instead of ending the call. He starts to fly to the Technodrome, praying that he can get there in time. Donnie gets close to the Technodrome when you step inside the core, he can hear you screaming. He feels his heart shatter, looking up at the Technodrome still floating, untouched.

Maybe he can save you. Maybe you'll still be okay if he could just go a little--

There's a loud explosion, Donnie gets hit with some debris and falls from the sky. He lands close to his brothers and April. He stares at the mushroom cloud, silently sobbing as the troops cheer. His ears ring and he feels like time has slowed down, watching the last of the debris fall to the ground around them. His brothers pat him on the back and help him up, seemingly unaware of his state.

He doesn't remember getting back to base. The med bay filled with injured people and their families. Leo bandages Donnie's head, wordlessly. Leo had always been good at picking up on Donnie's emotions.

"What happened?" Leo asks quietly, snapping Donnie back to reality. He gently wipes the tears off Donnie's face, Donnie hadn't realized he was still crying. The purple turtle looked at his brother, fear and grief stricken.

"Y/N..." Donnie starts, but his voice falters and cracks. Leo's face falls, wrapping his brother up in his arms. "I watched it... I saw the Technodrome destroy them..." His voice sounds so weak, Leo is shocked to see his twin in such a state. Still he holds him, gently rubbing his battered shell. "I couldn't do anything..."

•┈••✦ ♡ ✦••┈•

Donnie wakes up screaming, hearing explosions in his head. He grips his head, tears pouring down his cheeks. He shoves the blankets off of himself, searching the bed for you. But he remembers you're not here anymore.

Donnie slides out of his cot and onto the cold floor. He lays there. It's better than an empty bed that used to occupy you.

You.

You who drug him to bed every night because he "overworked" himself and "work would still be here in the morning." You who brought him coffee that tasted like shit and food that had gotten cold on your way to his lab. You who occupied every nook of his mind every waking second - even the seconds he was asleep. You who he did all of this for, to give you two a better future. You who always supported and encouraged him.

But now you were gone.

Now he was alone.

[mystarsohee]

theres nothing like doing nothing with you

genre: fluff, a little bit of angst, comfort

inspired by bruno majors "nothing" mostly the first verse/chorus tbh (also my first post lowk scared !!!!)

!!! non-sexual use of daddy

cg!sohee gn!reader

silently coloring on the living room floor, which is one of your favorite things to do while trying to make time go faster so sohee would come home from whatever hes doing. usually you would wait to move into a younger headspace until sohee came home, but you felt upset. upset over who knows what, you just felt bad that day.

you didnt hear the door open. or sohee walking into the living room, until you heard his voice, "hi baby! im home now okay?" with a smile on his face which always made you feel at ease, and a kiss to your cheek. you only hummed at him. he decided to sit next to you, "your coloring looks amazing baby, you're gonna have to give that to me so i can hang it up!" again, only humming at him to express your agreement.

"do you want to play? or have you eaten? i havent seen you all day!" sohee questioned. you responded, "i dunno" not accepting it as an answer, he got up and headed towards your room. where was he going? all you wanted today was to be near him, but now hes gone again? you slowly start to sniffle, just because you felt bad all day without your daddy, but he disappeared! "baby? what happened?" oh. you looked up slightly, your favorite stuffed animal stared right back at you. "im sorry love, i could tell you were a bit upset and i went to grab a stuffed animal for you before i tried to talk to you." he said along with a kiss to your head. "cm'ere, lets sit on the couch together." without a word, followed his request, you cuddled up next to sohee, comfortably with his arm around you. not wanting him to think you're mad at him, you held your stuffed animal and tried to explain, "i feel really bad."

"bad? did something happen?" he placed the back of his hand to your forehead to check for an alarming temperature. you looked up at him with a pout, "no.. just feel bad." hating to see you like this, he quickly tried to come up with a solution. he brushed his hand through your hair, "well.. seunghan left his nintendo switch here, are you up for a game of mario kart?"

mario kart? sohee knows that you dont play around when it comes to mario kart. in this headspace or not, you wont go easy on anyone. "i'll beat you!" you sat up as adrenaline quickly rushed through you at the thought of playing mario kart. "we'll have to see about that baby, i've been practicing!" he responds, again, with that pretty smile of his.

after one round and your victory, sohee quickly asks for a rematch. "no fair! i was distracted by your cute face." he says, pretending to be defeated, though he knew he would lose because he cant resist your face while you concentrate on maintaining your spot in first place. you can't help but laugh at him, "daddy how did you lose, this one was so easy.." you ramble a bit and criticize his technique, and try to give him advice. though he makes an effort to listen, he focuses on the way your eyes sparkled while talking about something you love. he wonders if you look that way when you talk about him to someone else. snapping out of it, he hears you say "i don't feel like playing this anymore, it's too easy.."

"well, what does my baby want to do? how are you feeling after totally crushing me in mario kart?" he doesn't want to suggest anything, because you usually like to be the one who picks the activities you feel like doing that day. you think for a few seconds, while sohee cleans up the controllers, "i want to do nothing." you do this often, you request to do something that sohee doesn't really know how to give to you. he still does everything in his power to meet your needs. if you ever asked him to bring the stars down from the sky for you, he would do whatever it takes to get them to you. "alright then. nothing it is." so he just sits there. doing nothing. just like you asked. you did the same, sit against him in silence. and you felt perfect! exactly what you wanted. to be with your daddy, and do nothing! just be there with him is all you want.

the both of you sit there, for atleast an hour or two. you just fidget around with his hands, and admire his pretty moles. he just stares at you in disbelief, watching you somehow entertain yourself with just himself! no movie, no phones, just the occasional "i love you" or kiss coming from you or him. theres a million other things sohee could be doing right now, but he doesn't care about that. as long as you're happy and content with the current situation, he would be too.

"have i told you lately, i'm grateful you're mine?"

author note: my first post on tumblr ever !!!! i hope whoever reads this enjoys, and feel free to request something for me to write! im pretty much open to writing anything riize/nct whether its agere or not 💞 feedback would definitely be appreciated!

[oh-puffle-cakes19]

could you make a tom holland one where Tom has to go away for a long time due to filming but the reader is pregnant and has to tell Tom bc she feels like he won’t be there and she doesn’t wanna be alone. Maybe they argue at the start like angst and then she blurts out why she’s making a big deal of him leaving.

My Forever

Pairing - Tom Holland x Pregnant Reader

Summary - Tom has to leave for Filming but you have to tell him something, really important and it worries you.

Warnings - Angst, sadness, as usual fluffy ending because who cant? Resist sweet Tom!!

A/N - Thank you so much, for requesting, hope you enjoy! Much appreciation to the love and support to all of my content on my blog 🥰

Honestly, guys come chat, talk about things to me or request! I’m always open to being mutuals with other accounts, don’t be shy come join the fun! Hope your doing well!! 💜

“Love, that doesn’t make any sense..” Tom rolls his eyes at you, “I’ve been away before and you were perfectly fine!”

You and Tom stand in the middle of your kitchen arguing about him going away for a while, due to filming.

“You don’t understand, I know that you need to go and film but why such a long time?” you asked, huffing folding your arms over.

“Because baby, it’s takes a long time to film a series!” Tom frowns, looking away from you.

“I just don’t want you to go,” You shake your head.

“I know but why?” Tom asked, “I’ll still be able to come back, still text and call you and you can visit,” he leaned his head against your shoulder, closing his eyes.

“Tommy its not about that,” You whisper, nervously. You look down at your stomach, deciding that he really needs to know, it’s now or never!

“What is it then?” Tom narrows his eyes, tapping his foot against the marble floor as he gets impatient.

“I, I don’t know,” You hold back your tongue, deciding just to tell him when he is away.

“What do you mean, you don’t know? You must know! Like your complaining about me leaving,” Tom feeling fed up with the situation, going to walk out on you to take a breather.

Instead, you speak again..

“I’m not complaining, I’m being honest!” You said, shaking your head completely disagreeing with his words. It seems tense, to just blurt the words you need to say but you need to right?

“Honest, my ass!” Tom scoffed, he really needs to get out the house. The air is catching in his throat as the atmosphere try’s to swallow him whole.

“Your being really, unreasonable love! Please give me a valid reason why you don’t want me to go,” Tom try’s to calm down one last time, for your sake as well as his own. He don’t want to be mad and fight or even walk out but it’s really difficult.

You take a deep breath, ignoring his comment as you hold your hand out to place it on Tom’s cheek. “I just found out that, I’m 3 Weeks Pregnant,” you whisper, him barely hearing you.

You feel like your drowning under water as you said the thing, you needed to say.

You don’t say anything after, scared about what is there to come. What will he think?

Everything stops in silence as the words hits Toms ears, “what did you say? Love,” he held your hand tight, like as if you will float away from him.

“Um, nothing.. I didn’t say anything,” You looked away lairing, you feel embarrassed and shocked you actually blurted it out.

“No, no baby,” Tom breathes out, cupping your jaw into his warm, hands, “You said you are pregnant, is that true?”

“Yes,” You take a shaky breath, “I didn’t want you to go because I didn’t want to feel alone, for you not to be there for me or the baby,”

Tom calms down, forgetting about all the other things that got him riled up. He focused on your words, on you, only you!

“I’m so sorry, love,” Tom kisses your forehead to comfort you, “We are going to get through this together, Darling! Im going to love and support you, no matter what,” he smiles.

You stand there, in between his arms and body, you let tear drops fall on your cheeks.

“Blossom, don’t cry,” Tom wipes your tears from under your eyes and cheeks, “Your ok, we are ok! I love you so much, my love! You are so strong and brave.. should of told me sooner,”

“I was going to, but,” You took a deep breathe listening to Tom’s heart beat, he calms you like flying with pixie dust but much better, “I was scared to see your reaction,”

“Understandable, sweetheart. It must be scary in this situation but now you know that I’m all in, I’m going to love, care, support and protect you, Darling,” Tom kisses your lips passionately, you smile into the kiss.. slipping your tongue between his teeth as you sink more into his chest.

“You are one of a kind, Tom,” you wink.

“Says Yourself, Princess,” Tom teases back.

“I’m always going to be here for you, your not alone, Y/N neither is our baby!”

“I love you so much too, Tommy,” You pull him in a kiss again, fully knowing that he is doing the right thing.

Taking on a responsibility that he might not be ready for but he loves you and he loves your and his baby now!

“What about your filming?” You cry more, don’t even know where the tears or sadness came from because the hardest part is gone now.

“Fuck the filming,” Tom mumbles, “I’ll bring you with me, they can’t say shit!”

“They can wait, you and our baby are way more important, love,” He includes as you nod, smiling at his sweet yet funny words.

“Now, let’s go upstairs and I’ll run you a nice hot bath,” Tom smiles, taking your hand, “How does that sound, Darling?”

“Sounds perfect,” You giggle, loving this new protective side of Tom.

🧋

You and Tom lay in the bath with lots of bubbles and very hot water.

Your lay against Tom’s chest, as he presses sweet kisses to your shoulders and neck.

“Mm, so fucking gorgeous,” Tom whispers, caressing all of your body, “Can’t believe, we are going to be having a baby,” he grins ear to ear.

“I know, Handsome, me neither,” You giggle, holding his bicep kissing it, softly.

Tom strokes your head to relax you more into the hot water noticing that you are still a tad, but too tense for his liking.

He loves you being relaxed, calm and care free because that’s the best version of yourself!

“Your going to be a great, mummy, Beautiful,” Tom can’t resist saying, sending butterflies down to your stomach or how devoted he is to you and your baby.

“Well, Mr.Holland, your going to be a great daddy,” You winked kissing his cheek.

“Well, Mrs.Holland, again, your going to be an undeniably great mummy,” Tom winked, back.

“What?” You asked shocked, “I’m not your wife,”

“Soon to be, baby,” Tom whispers, smirking as he hints he going to propose very, very soon!

“Your not close enough, love,” He pulls you even closer to him, if that’s possible kissing your lips deeply, loving the way you taste on the tip of his tongue.

“Can’t wait, to be Mrs.Holland,” You giggle, in between kisses.

“I bet,” Tom couldn’t hide his smirk, so full of himself because he loves you, and is proud of it, calling you his forever.

“My forever,” Tom whispers, kissing you on surprise.. making bubbles fly around the bathroom as you both laugh.

“My forever too, Tommy,” You smile, closing your eyes as you embrace, this blessed moment between you two.

[sunshines-child]

*spins dramatically in chair* god im so tired. sunny ur children have taken over my prefrontal cortex its not funny anymore.

partner in crime - madilyn mei: screams luc to me thinking of his little dove, but also from theos angsty teen perspective. the song fits them both almost like a back and forth conversation (i might make a post actually this is genius lmao). actually now that i think of it it fits u too lol (it has that vintage circus vibe if u will)

why good people become monsters: video essay of sorts exploring the lucifer effect (nuff said lol), but i recommend reading the comments for more insight and perspective. the art and presentation is slightly unsettling and i love it.

random quotes i from the top of my desktop notes: (long read sorry)

"he had all his mother's vivid imagination and passionate love of beauty. Frost of winter, invitation of spring, dream of summer and glamour of autumn, all meant much to Walter." - rainbow valley, l.m montgomery

-> luc and mercy change my mind (u cant hehe)

He said: “Only God can Judge a monster like that… I just set up the appointment”

-> my boi armund snaps (and snaps someones neck oop-)

“hell is empty, all the devils are here” - the tempest, shakespeare

-> this is definately written somewhere on altis lol

… as John [Lennon] told Rolling Stone magazine in 1970, “When it gets down to it, when you’re drowning, you don’t say, ‘I would be incredibly pleased if someone would have the foresight to notice me drowning and come and help me,’ you just scream.”

-> theo fighting his demons and losing :') eventually leading to some fall out with daddy dearest.

"It brings me so much joy to watch someone else get staggered by the full range of human degeneracy. We really do be wildin." - a yt comment lol

->i like to think that while both luc and altis kill in cold blood, for titi its another day job or whatever but for luc he thinks a lot about life and death and morality and corruption and thats what leads him to insanity later on.

classic case of living long enough to see urself as the villain but also a favourite trope of mine where people join the dark side for the cookies out of deep empathy for the wronged victims as opposed to say the violence and injustices they themselves may have experienced.

but also post armunds death luc lets all hell loose because how *dare* anyone lay a finger on his beloved boy?! the angst potential my dear is frankly off the charts and i love them all so much it hurts

anyhows this is for fun & i wanted to share some pebbles with ya

i couldnt resist >:D

I have not a single regret taking over your prefrontal cortex. ITS MINE NOW MWAHAHHAHAHAHA Partners in Crime by Madilyn Mei recognition YAYYYYYYY it’s so fit for their characters I’m in tears RAAAAAAAAAAAA Im not changing your mind you’re cooking. “he had all his mother's vivid imagination and passionate love of beauty. Frost of winter, invitation of spring, dream of summer and glamour of autumn, all meant much to Walter." You’re hurting me it’s so fucking beautiful oh my poor heart and soul he is the very bring of his mother, those calloused hands still flying, desperate to cling onto Mercy’s hands, still desperate to cling upon the hands of his mother who rested his head upon her breast. Armund doesn’t exactly ever…snap. His rage is there, and everyone knows it’s there. He’s the only one getting rid of his rage instead of bottling it down. He’s constantly shrouded by rage. “hell is empty the devils are here” is my knew favorite quote. I’m one of the devils LMAO also yes it is very much inked on Altis (probably his hip) Luc and Altis kill like all hell. And you’re very right on what they feel. Altis feels nothing. It’s just another thing he has to do. No rush, no nothing. He’s just… doing it. Luc in the other hand feels everything. Even when it’s someone he is killing more as a task, he’ll feel a rush of everything, all the thoughts, everything. He knows, oh he knows the mortality of everything, including his own soul. (Also he’s constantly bringing the edge of “what if I just died”. It’s. It’s worrying.) Luc. Luc BREAKS when Armund dies. He loves his son, but in the end there’s no tru nurture still left in it. His son turns away from him, and he draws back his hand and cries. And his little angel, his Armind is there, to give him a true taste of joy despite the life all of them live. And what happens to man without joy?

[anns-works]

Ok so i've got something that yall would probably hate me for. But ive been holding this simmering pot of angst for a while and the first thing i was taught is to share, so suffer with me.

New ROTTMNT AU:

Rather than being the only one out of his brothers to survive in the no-good-very-bad-horrible future, Leo is the only brother who dies.

Okay okay okay.

But i personally like to think that after the krang come out everything goes to shit in the bad timeline everyone goes oh fuck and start teaming up right? Human yokai cryptids mutants– none of that matters as long as you got eachothers back.

And after the initial stumbles the brothers start their active participation in the resistance.

Heres the thing.

Leo is genuinly terrifying at coming up with a plan. Kid went toe to toe with motherfucking Big Mama and came out victorious. Big Mama, as if the most terrifying yokai crime boss Big Mama. Kid came out with a smile. Its safe to say his strategies were incredibly effective and it kinda pissed off a couple of people.

Military dude 1: I can't believe i'm following a plan made by a 16 yo mutanat turtle.

Military dude 2: Your just upset the kid called out all the flaws your plan had in less than 2 seconds flat.

But the one pissed off the most were the krang. This tiny insignificant insect was able to somehow keep the resistance 3 steps ahead. So naturally, they went to take him down first.

It took a while but eventually they managed to isolate Leo. His brothers were fighting up a storm but the krang got too much and so they had to leave. Without Leo.

About a week later which involved a lot of crying and screaming, the krang brodacast a live footage of torturing Leo (my boi) before krangyfying (did i spell that right) him.

And now the krang have leo on their side. Leo, who knows everything there is to know abt the resistance (hes a gossipy bitch but thats only cuz its important to have the intel) so they are in deep shit now.

And he was a zombie for a while guys. Fighting against him always had people dying and his fam having a mental breakdown.

Eventually they take him down, but at what cost. (One of the brothers killed him. cuz angst. And now the question is who is the MOST angst) Also, Leo is the first person to die in the resistance. (Ouch)

Casey rools up and has no fucking clue who Leo is (ouch) or why his mom wanted him to take up the role as Casey's dad (HC: Cass took one look at tge record of Leo's victories against his brothers in the lair games, strategy skills and medical knowledge; and declared that he would be Casey jr.'s father. Leo was incredibly touched)

But for some reason. For soME FUCKING REASON. Kid is so much like Leo its scary. His family is near tears everytime they see him act like that. That one time he made a shitty pun and Donnie started crying.

Well its probably due to the blue imaginary friend he has that he calls Bluey. Yes we're going towards that direction. His everything comes from being influenced by the cool older brother figure he has as an imaginary friend. (Cuz of ✨Mystic Shenanigans✨ Bluey is still stuck here. Mikey is the only one who can also see him. But he cant. Cuz hes depressed)

Also without Mr. A-Ninja's-Greatest-Weapon-Is-Hope I feel like shit gets really depressing in the resistance. Everyones sad. Baby casey is sad to see everyone sad. So he asks Bluey's help and picks up his general style of humor. Angst shenanigans.

And. AND. AND. During the whole peepaws time travel back after the movie montage (I am a aimple woman w/ simple need) these depressed hunks see this tiny version of their blue brother still covered in bandages and not fully healed from the krangvasion, and their immediete reaction? Protecc.

Leo is confused abt a lot of things. The future version of his brothers that got spat out of nowhere. Casey and how that worked w/ their Casey. The blue projection of HIS angsty future self (who is pretty cool btw). PTSD. You know, the works. At this point my guy is just vibing, and honestly? The story picks up a pretty chill pace from there. Its all abt healing now baby.

So thats the rough outline of the au. And it might sound like a fucking add but heres more abt this silly little idea that came from my silly little head. -> You'll (Never) Never Be Alone

[holymolymacaroni]

“If I could love you I would” Damon Salvatore x reader

Tags: Angst, love, heartbroken reader, sadness, eventual makeup, reader is Elena’s older sister

“This is why I can’t be with you anymore, Y/N as much as I love you you will never be Elena to me, and I’ll only hurt you worse the more I stick around and pretend that you could take away all of those feelings I’ve felt. It does neither of us any good. I’m sorry I really am but I can’t hurt you anymore” Damon spoke as he dropped you off at your house as a sad look was framed on his face. "So....your choosing her, my own sister who's made it clear that she doesn't love you over me? Instead of the person who has only ever showed you love, kindness and happiness....t-this is it? Just like that?" You cried as tears couldn't stop forming around your eyes as you poured out your feelings "w-why can't I be good enough?" You asked as Damon frowned and looked away

“You are more than good enough Y/N, it’s just not that simple” he replied as he took a step closer to you, his eyes meeting yours “I know you understand why I can’t be with you anymore, you’re not stupid. It’s not that you’re not enough, it’s that you’re too much for me to handle right now. I need someone who can understand the person I am and the things I have to do, and you can’t do that. You’re too innocent, too pure. You deserve someone who can give you the life you want, and I can’t do that for you” he explained softly, his voice laced with regret "But I want you. More than anything else in this world. And that's the problem. I don't want to hurt you, but I can't stop myself from doing just that. It's not fair to you, or to me. We both deserve better than this." He took another step closer, his hand reaching out to brush a stray tear from your cheek. "I'm sorry, Y/N. I really am”

As he touched your cheek you couldn’t help but push his hand away from your face as anger and sadness clouded your judgment "Too innocent? Too pure? That's not what you were saying when you had me laying in your bed as you took my virginity Damon. I know more then you think I do but I know for a fact Elena will break your heart again and you know it.....why can't you just pick me Damon? Why are you and Stefan always fighting over Elena!? WHY CANT YOU FIGHT FOR ME FIGHT FOR THE LOVE I KNOW YOU FEEL FOR ME!?!" You yelled angrily as tears kept falling.

“Y/N, you’re right. I’m not perfect. And I did take your virginity because I wanted to, because you’re beautiful and amazing and I couldn’t resist. But that doesn’t change the fact that I can’t be with you. Not the way you deserve to be. I’m sorry, but it’s the truth. As for me and Stefan fighting over Elena, we do it because she’s the one who makes us feel alive again, who brings out the best and worst in us. She’s like a drug to us, and we can’t help ourselves. And as for fighting for you, I am fighting for you, in my own way. I’m trying to let you go so you can find someone who can give you what you want, someone who can make you happy, someone who won’t hurt you. I don’t want to be that person anymore. I can’t. I’m sorry” he said, his voice full of emotion as he took another step closer to me. "I know this hurts. But it's for the best. You deserve better than someone like me. Someone who isn’t me” he removed his hand from your face as he stepped back “I don’t expect you to understand darling, but you need too.”

“You don't know what I deserve Damon....everything you've told me about loving me and wanting to be with me until my dying breath was a lie... and it's all for Elena.....everything is always about Elena......everyone loves Elena....you, Stefan, Matt, EVERYONE!!!! What about m-me? What about me wanting love? What about me wanting you Damon? I can't just forget like you want me too....I-I love you Damon Salvatore I have since the first day I met you.....and I refuse to believe that you never loved me back.....but choose Elena I should have expected as such from you, your so far up her ass that you push anyway else away that could possibly love and care for you and it's all because you wanted what your brother had first....it's not that you love her it's you wanting to rip away Stefan's heart through her.” You spat angrily at him

He knew he shouldn't have said those things to her, he knew it would only make things worse. But he couldn't help himself. The pain in your eyes was killing him, and the thought of you loving him like that, it was too much to bear.

"Darling, you're right. I never should have said those things. I was angry and hurt, and I took it out on you. But that doesn't change the fact that I can't be with you. Not like this. I love you, Y/N. More than you'll ever know. But I can't risk hurting you again. I can't." He took a deep breath, trying to steady his voice. "I'm sorry. I should have just walked away from you, left you alone. But I couldn't do that. You're too important to me, and I don't want to lose you." He reached out then, his hand cupping your cheek gently, his thumb brushing away a stray tear. "I'm sorry. So very sorry. But I can't change who I am, or what I feel for Elena.” He spoke softly as the sadness that you felt coursed through him now.

“Just stop Damon, Just stop it okay I understand I'll never be good enough like Elena, I understand that you only used me as a distraction from her, I understand that no matter what I say or do you'll never choose me. I understand that Elena will always be the one I understand that you would do absolutely anything for her even if it meant losing your own life....I-I understand Damon but I wanted to be that person for you....I tried so hard to change myself to make you love me to make you want to pick me but I'll never be better then a second little measly option for anyone....it's all I ever am to you, to Stefan, to Matt to....to everyone okay. You just put it in big bold bright letters for me that I will NEVER be good enough....and for that Damon I'm sorry. My entire life everyone around me has always chosen Elena over me, of course they would she's the better, attractive, athletic sister and all I ever will be is the older sister who hides out in her room reading fantasy and romance novels wishing and hoping someone would finally see me....and I thought that was you Damon, but once again I'm clearly wrong.... once again Y/N another pat on your back for letting someone actually in thinking they could never hurt you.....” you spoke as you looked at Damon “I just wished you would I have told me this before I allowed myself to be attached to you over and over again” you spoke sadly as your heart finally broke all of your feelings poured from you.

“If I could love you I would” he sighed “I would do anything to be the person you deserve but I’m not. You have to face it Y/N as long as I’m around you, you’ll only get hurt” he spoke with a heavy heart, he turned and walked back to his car, his mind filled with images of your beautiful face, your smile, your tears. He knew he’d never forget you, never stop loving you. But he also knew that he couldn't be with you, not in the way you deserved. And so, he drove away, leaving behind the girl who had captured his heart, and the endless cycle of pain and regret that came with it. He felt a pain in his chest that was almost physical. He loved you, more than he ever thought possible. And yet, here he was, letting you go. It wasn't fair to you. But he knew it was the only way. He couldn't keep hurting you like this.

[eomayas]

can u do like a fluffy college au with jongin :D!! u could add smut at the end if you’d like too <3

a/n: thank you for the request! i hope you enjoy this :) this is unedited so bear with me

take a break • kji [req]

pairing: collegebf!jongin x f! reader

genre: fluff + bit of angst, bobista!jongin

synopsis: reader is studying for and exam and jongin takes her out for a break.

warnings: sweet, supportive, and caring jongin. reader has a bit of general anxiety & self doubt. mentions of stress and being overwhelmed

a sigh escapes your lips and you cradle your head in your hand for a brief moment, closing your eyes and counting 8 seconds in and 8 seconds out as you take deep breaths. you make a mental list of things you can control: how long you study, what time you go to bed, what time you wake up in the morning, what you eat for breakfast. you use this to focus and ground yourself back to earth, your head pounding and vision blurry from flipping through your notes and textbook for the last few hours.

you sit up and blink your eyes back into focus. glancing around, you are grateful for jongin and his roommates for allowing you their common area to study when you cant focus at your own place. you've been at their dining table more than you've been at your own this week, getting the complete silence that you need since they all have different schedules that work with the times you want to study. well, you get mostly peace and quite, save for the interruptions from jongin asking you to eat with him, or bothering you to take a break.

"y/n?" youre happy to hear his voice, whether you outwardly express that or not.

"hmm?" you push your glasses back into place and flip the page of your textbook, the words blending together and meaning nothing to you. jongin comes up behind you and puts his hands on your shoulders.

"baby, you really should take a break. its been an hour and half," he says and you raise your eyebrows. it feels like you've been studying for weeks, let alone barely two hours. "please? just take thirty minutes with me." he says, bending down to look you in the face.

you worry your bottom lip. its hard to resist jongin in any setting, but your schoolwork is way too important to you. "jongin," you start, reaching out and putting a hand on his arm.

jongin frowns, shaking his head. "y/n, its not healthy to sit here for hours staring at your notes. its not good for your mental," he says, his lips downturned. you could deal with poor mental health if that meant you'd pass this exam in the morning. "just come for a drive with me. we can get dinner." jongin adds, grabbing one of your hands and intertwining your fingers together.

"i don't have money to blow," you say.

"ill pay," he says with a shrug. you start to shake your head and he lets out a whine. "please, y/n! i miss you, i've barely seen you all day!" he slides down onto his knees and throws his head into your lap, his arms circling around your waist.

your heart swells at his words. you haven't been the most attentive girlfriend for the past few days, and he's been relatively understanding of that. hes been accommodating, giving your space and allowing you to study because he knows how important school is to you.

you stroke his head and run your fingers through his hair. "okay," you say and he lifts his head quickly, his eyes wide.

"really?" he asks. when you nod, a smile breaks out onto his face and you cant help but return it. "ill get your shoes." he places a kiss on your forehead before he runs to the front door to retrieve your shoes from the rack.

"can we get boba?" you ask when he comes back and starts helping you put on your shoes, even though you are fully capable.

"of course–i literally work at a boba shop, y/n," he says, like he does every time you ask to go. you blush and smile as he ties your shoes for you. he looks up at you when hes finished, and you swoon all over again. "what?"

you sigh. "i just love you, jongin. that's all," you say, and now its his turn for his cheeks to turn a bright shade of pink.

"i love you too," he says, standing up and placing a soft, chaste kiss to your lips. you hold onto his forearms and let him pull you off of the chair.

you two walk outside and you shiver, your sweatshirt no match for the wind. you quickly get into his car and when he starts it, blast the heat. you then get your music set up, and he takes off into the night.

the ride is quiet, minus the song playing from the speaker. you and jongin hold hands as he drives, his thumb absentmindedly tracing shapes into your palm. you lean your head against the glass and let out a small sigh. "whats on your mind, y/n?” he asks, squeezing your hand.

you shake your head. “nothing, just tired,” you say, but you cant stop thinking about your exam, and the time you’re wasting that could be spent studying.

luckily, jongins work is close to his house, because the drive is short and he’s pulling into the parking lot before you know it. “do you want to go in, or stay here? its gonna be quick,” he says.

“i’ll go in,” you say after a moment of thinking it over. he smiles and kisses your cheek before you both get out of the car.

walking into the shop, jongins coworkers greet the both of you enthusiastically. “y/n! how are you?” his coworker jongdae asks, coming from behind the counter and giving you a side hug.

“i’m alright,” you say, giving him a soft smile. you chat for a bit in front of the counter while jongin busies himself in the back to make both of your drinks. it’s only when a customer comes in that jongdae goes back to work and you go to stand at the pick up counter.

you watch jongin work deftly and snap a few photos of him. he looks so cute and out of place right now; wearing a big hoodie and sweats, a baseball cap and no name tag but efficiently making two drinks like he’s on the clock.

“here you go, pretty lady,” he flirts, sliding you your thai tea with a wink and a smile. you roll your eyes and accept the drink, giggling when he hops over the counter rather than walking all the way around.

“you flirt with all of your customers like that?” you ask, poking the straw through the film of your lid and taking a sip.

“only if they look like you,” he says, taking your hand and leading you to a small table in the back of the store. he sets his drink down on the table and goes to the shelf board games to grab connect four. you guys regularly play connect four, sometimes because you’re both competitive and other times to destress or just chill together.

you help jongin set up the board and slide all of the yellow pieces to him and take the red. “are you ready to get whooped?” you ask, dropping your disk into one of the slots. you entangle your legs between his, pressing your knees together.

“do your worst,” he replies, placing his disk next to yours. you guys shit talk each other as you play, your mind finally drifting away from your exam and allowing you to relax.

“you know i’m about to win, right?” you ask, seeing the three places you can win. you look at him through the holes in the board and he just smirks, his eyes scanning places to block. you watch him, your eyes dropping to the board to see anywhere else that he can win.

jongin drops his disk into a slot and leans back in his chair. “guess not,” he says. you frown and look at the board, eyes scanning every possible combination until you see it. you gasp and pretend to flip the table over. “again.” he says.

and you two play two more rounds. you wind up beating him 2-1, and both times you play until all of your chips are placed on the board. you go to start another round, but are interrupted by jongdae who brings you cajun french fries, gyoza, chicken wings, and a bowl of plain white rice. “oh, we didn’t order this,” you say to him, glancing at jongin.

jongdae shrugs. “it’s on the house. good luck on your exam tomorrow,” jongdae says, patting you on the shoulder and giving you a warm smile. he leans over and gives jongin a fist bump, something unspoken being passed between the two of them.

you look at the food and back at jongin who reaches for a few fries. “eat,” he says, nodding at the food with his head.

you can’t help the tears that come to your eyes. anxiety, gratitude, and stress wash over you. everyone is so kind to you, so accommodating but you can’t even extend yourself an eighth of that type of grace. you pull your glasses up press the heels of your hands into your eyes. “baby?” you hear his chair scoot and then his arms are around you, pulling you against his chest. “talk to me.” he says softly, kissing your hair.

you pull in a shaky breath, flipping your hands around to use the backs of them to wipe at your eyes. “i’m just very overwhelmed,” you say. “and i know it’s just school, and it’s not the end of the world tomorrow. i just want to do well.” you say, feeling embarrassed for crying in public but not caring enough to get up and leave.

“and you will, y/n. you’ve been studying all week, and it’s going to pay off. let yourself relax just a bit, okay? you need to eat,” he says. you lift your head to look at him, and he offers you a small smile. “my pretty girl. i dont like when you cry.” he says, a frown taking over his face as he uses the sleeves of his sweatshirts to wipe underneath your eyes.

you sniff and mumble a ‘thank you’ to him. you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him in for a hug, resting your chin on his shoulder. he holds you tight and rubs your back soothingly.

pulling away, you grab a wing and and start chewing on it, resting your head on his shoulder. jongin pulls one of your legs over his lap and you two eat in silence, his right thumb stroking the exposed skin near your ankle reassuringly.