#sad part is that I’m not really exaggerating here

[luna-the-cretar]

My bank account, watching me spending way more than I make in a single paycheck: girl the fuck are you doing

[kavehater]

Do I have to start saying not that anyone would care in that super duper passive aggressive way to guilt people into caring or what

[girlgenius1111]

all of my pain and all your excuses

part 2 of family line ingrid arrives home, and realizes how much she's missed with her sister. her and mapi try to figure out how to put the pieces back together. r struggles with the mess inside her head. cw: mommy issues galore 🙃 mentions of poor mental health. solstråle continues to be sad.

-------

It took you a few minutes of crying into Mapi before you realized what she’d probably done. At this realization, you pulled away from her in a panic, practically falling onto the ground. 

“Mapi, please don’t tell Ingrid about this, please please, you can’t, she’ll be so mad, she’s already mad, I can’t,” your gasps for air cut your words off and Mapi took your face in between her hands. 

“Breathe. In and out pequeña. Just breathe.” She instructed, dramatically exaggerating her own breaths. 

“Please, Mapi,” you whimpered after a minute. 

“I’m sorry, nena, I had to. I had to.” She said, seemingly begging you to believe her that she’d had no other choice. You couldn’t really blame her; you’d gotten yourself here, after all. You’d written the letter. You’d meant every word you’d said, and every word you didn’t quite have the guts to say. You’d collapsed into her arms. You’d given her no choice. 

“I’m really scared,” you mumbled. 

Mapi pulled you back in, tucking your face easily into her chest. “I know. You don’t need to be, but I know you are. Everything is going to be alright. I promise you.” 

You wrapped yourself tight around the defender, hoping with everything in you that she was right. 

When Ingrid burst through the front door, eyes immediately finding you on the couch, crumpled up into a little ball in Mapi’s lap, she knew it was bad. Mapi was holding you so tightly, expression unreadable when she glanced up at Ingrid, murmuring inaudible words in your ear. You looked so small, visibly trembling in your baggy sweatshirt and sweatpants, Mapi’s arms engulfing you. Ingrid practically ran to your side, sitting as carefully as she could next to the both of you. 

“María, what..?” Ingrid asked, trailing off when Mapi silently held out a piece of paper to her. Ingrid took it, having no idea what she was about to read. Having no idea what she was about to feel. 

You were hiding your face in Mapi’s sweater, much too distraught to care about how pathetic you probably seemed. You’d heard Ingrid enter, and you knew it was just a matter of time before you had to leave your safe little bubble and confront this. When it had been silent for too long, and you knew Ingrid must be done reading by now, you shifted away from Mapi. It was time to be brave, and it was time to take whatever was coming your way. 

The look on your sister’s face made you want to take it all back. Because, fuck, you weren’t sure your happiness was worth making Ingrid this upset. She was scanning over the paper over and over, as if she was hoping the contents would change with each reread. 

You acted stronger than you felt, sliding off Mapi’s lap and moving a bit closer to Ingrid. She didn’t look away from the letter. 

“I’m sorry.” You said quietly. 

Your sister’s head snapped up to look at you so rapidly, you almost jumped. 

“Solstråle,” Ingrid began, and you felt like the last stable part of you broke sharply at the nickname. Sunbeam, it meant. Ingrid had called you that your whole life. Her sunbeam, always breaking through the clouds to shine a bit of light. She’d assumed you’d grown out of it, recently. You looked so small, though, so scared and so desperately sad, that it just slipped out. She didn’t regret it, not when you practically fell towards her. “Oh, honey.” 

If you were crying with Mapi just minutes before, you were bawling now. Hysterical, hyperventilating cries that were painful to hear, and painful to let out, but somehow so cathartic. Ingrid pulled you into her, beginning to cry herself. 

When Ingrid spoke, it was in Norwegian, and nothing had ever sounded so safe. “I am so sorry, my perfect baby sister, I am so so sorry. I love you. I love you, I love you. More than anything in this world, I love you.” 

And though you still cried, you relaxed marginally at the comfort hearing her speak in your native language brought you. You relaxed, going completely limp against your sister. You probably would have slid off her onto the ground if she hadn’t had her arms wrapped around you so tight. Ingrid wasn’t sure she’d ever let you go. You weren’t sure you wanted her to.

-------

Ingrid stood in your doorway, eyes fixed on your sleeping form. She’d brought you up to bed, carrying you like she used to when you were little. You’d fallen asleep on her downstairs, and she hadn’t dared to move you for a while. She and Mapi sat in a rather stunned silence for a while, before Mapi suggested she bring you up to bed. So, Ingrid tucked you in, pulling the covers up to your chin the way she knew you liked them. She noticed something tucked under one of your pillows, and carefully pulled it out. She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at the plush polar bear in her hand. Snø. She’d given him to you when you were three, for your birthday. She thought you’d stopped sleeping with him, but apparently not. The thought that you’d pulled him out of your closet for some comfort upon arriving in Spain made tears flood Ingrid’s eyes. She carefully kissed your forehead before rushing out of the room, almost colliding with her girlfriend. 

“Oof,” Mapi grunted, steadying Ingrid, when she caught sight of the other womans’ face. “Amor,” 

Ingrid shook her head, wiping harshly at her eyes, and pushed past Mapi towards their bedroom. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she pulled the folded letter out of her pocket, smoothing it out, and began to read it. Again. Mapi had followed her into the room, and took the paper out of her girlfriend’s hands. 

“Give it back.” Ingrid said through clenched teeth. She sounded angry, but Mapi saw the tears in her eyes and knew better. 

“No, you’ve already read it.” Mapi said firmly. 

“María, give it back, I need to read it again.” 

“Mi amor, it's just going to hurt more, and you don’t need that right now.”

“Yes I do,” Ingrid cried. “I do, she’s been hurting like this for god knows how long. Wanting to–” She cut herself off, shaking her head almost frantically. “She said she felt like no one would care if she was gone. Reading this hurts but it is nothing compared to what she has been feeling, and it is all my fault, so let me read it so I can fix this, because I need to fix this, I can’t lose her, María, I can’t lose her.” Ingrid was sobbing by the end, making little to no sense, and Mapi placed her hands on Ingrid’s cheeks, forcing her to make eye contact. She noticed in that moment that while you looked alike normally, you looked just like Ingrid when you cried. 

It wasn’t enough, though, Ingrid was crying so hard, every sob shattered a part of Mapi that she hadn’t known existed. She climbed onto the bed, pulling Ingrid with her, guiding the younger woman’s head onto her chest. Ingrid clutched at Mapi’s shirt almost desperately, muffling her sobs there too, although her body shook heavily with the force of them. Her world was falling down around her, and it was all she could do to hold onto her María, and not let go. 

“I know, mi princesa, I know.” Mapi murmured, running her fingers through Ingrid’s thick hair. “You aren’t going to lose her. We aren’t going to lose her. We’ll fix it.” 

“I don’t know how to fix it,” Ingrid whimpered. Mapi tilted the Norwegian’s head up, until Ingrid was looking at her once again. 

“That’s okay, mi amor. You don’t need to have all the answers now. We’ll figure it out together. For now, just be her sister. Not her parent. Just be her sister, and if you don’t know what else to say, tell her you love her.” 

Ingrid nodded pitifully, scooting up and cramming her face into the crook of Mapi’s neck.

“Thank you. For helping her and for texting me and for being so perfect. You’re always so perfect.” Ingrid mumbled. 

“I’ll be perfect for you any day. I love you, and I love your sister. Now relax, mi princesa. Relax, breathe, calm down. We’re going to be okay.” 

And like you had earlier, Ingrid hoped with everything in her that Mapi was right about this. 

-------

Ingrid and Mapi fell silent the minute you walked into the kitchen the next morning. They’d been talking about you, clearly, and they looked at you nervously the minute you were in sight. You’d woken up irritated, though, as you sometimes did, feeling like your blood was boiling, as if one wrong thing would set you off. You wished you had more control than that, but you knew the minute you heard your sister’s voice, you would fly off the handle. Because this morning? You weren’t sad. You were furious. 

The room was a complete contradiction to how you were feeling. Ingrid and Mapi’s home was bright with sunlight, and warm with color. They were both holding matching coffee mugs, and looking at you with matching concerned expressions, and all of it made you want to scream. Why did Ingrid get to have this perfect life, and you didn’t? Why did she get to be happy so easily, and you didn’t? 

You were lost in your thoughts, taking the coffee Mapi handed you with a quiet thank you. The kitchen was uncomfortably silent. 

“Hi, solstråle. How are you feeling this morning?” Ingrid piped up. You clenched your jaw. How did she think you were feeling?

“Fine.” You snapped. 

Ingrid remained quiet and soothing when she spoke next, and it made you even angrier. “Honey, last night,”

“I don’t really feel like talking about it right now.” You said harshly, cutting her off. Ingrid tensed, trying to keep her reaction in check. 

“I’m sorry, solstråle, but that is not an option. We need to talk about what happened, we can’t wait on that.” Ingrid insisted, voice measured. 

Still it was like she’d hit you. Your head snapped up, your features contorted with rage, and you set your coffee down dangerously softly, glaring at your sister. “Oh now we have to? Now we have to talk about it? I’ve been here for 6 fucking months Ingrid. It took you months to realize something was wrong, and you didn’t even realize! I had to write it out for you. You told me last night that you love me, that you want me here, well then why didn’t you fucking show it before now! I said I don’t want to talk today and I meant that.” You yelled. 

Ingrid shook her head, her hands clenching tight into fists. “Do not yell at me. I am trying to help. I understand that you’re hurt, and that you’re upset, but-” 

You scoffed loudly then, interrupting her, and Ingrid got visibly more frustrated with you, her lips turning down into a disapproving frown. 

“You can’t-” 

“Ingrid, just take a sec.” Mapi cut in, her soft voice a sharp contrast to how you and your sister had been conversing. “Nena, we do need to talk, but it doesn’t have to be now. Let’s just all take a breath.” 

Ingrid was shocked when you slowly nodded your head and took a step back from her, inhaling deeply. It was like magic; she’d never seen an argument that you were involved in get de-escalated so quickly.  

“Go get your homework, okay? You’re coming with us to training.” Ingrid said after a minute. There was no room for argument in her words, and you fought against another surge of anger, fought the urge to yell. 

“Is this because of what I wrote?” You asked evenly. Ingrid and Mapi exchanged glances. 

“Listen, nena, we just want to keep an eye on you.” Mapi told you, realizing that you were a lot less reactive when she spoke to you than when Ingrid did. 

“I know what I said. I wasn’t going to do anything, though. Really. I wouldn’t- I wouldn’t do that to you.” You defended quietly. 

Mapi felt Ingrid’s hand slide into hers and grip tight. I wouldn’t do that to you, you’d said. Not I wouldn’t do that, period. Everytime she thought about what you’d written, Ingrid felt a wave of nausea wash over her. She wasn’t sure what would have happened if Mapi hadn’t gotten home when she did. She wasn’t sure how close she’d come to losing you. She was so scared. 

Ingrid had never been good at letting you see how she was feeling, and maybe that was why, until this point, you’d gone out of your way to hide your own emotions from her. She decided to take Mapi’s advice from the night before. Just be her sister. Not her parent. Just be her sister, and if you don’t know what else to say, tell her you love her. 

Ingrid approached you like she was worried you would lash out at her, which may have been fair. When you made no move to step away from her, she carefully stood directly in front of you, and put her hands on your shoulders. 

“What you wrote really scared me. I’m not mad, solstråle, I’m just really scared. And I trust you, I do, but if I left you here alone, I would just worry, and we haven’t talked yet, and I have no idea what you’re thinking other than the things you said on that piece of paper. So it would make me feel a lot better if you came with us to training today.” 

You blinked up at her for a minute, before you slowly nodded your head. “Okay. I guess that’s fair.” 

Ingrid seemed equally as surprised as you did, removing her hands from your shoulders, and gesturing for you to go get your bag. Once you’d disappeared from the room, she turned back to her girlfriend, who had a ridiculous grin on her face. 

“Look! You communicated! Like a real human being!” Mapi joked, opening her arms. Ingrid instantly melted into the hug, though she scowled at her girlfriend’s teasing. 

“I communicate.” She said stubbornly. 

“Sometimes,” Mapi allowed. “You’ve definitely gotten better. And you’ll keep getting better because I don’t think I’ve ever seen you as determined as you are right now to make sure that your solstråle is okay.” Mapi whispered, kissing the side of Ingrid’s head. 

“My solstråle.” Ingrid smiled. “I started calling her that when she was 3, and she had this shirt with a sun on it. I told her I liked it once, and whenever she saw me sad after that, she’d run off to put the shirt on and come show me. I called her my little solstråle. My sunbeam. She used to be so smiley, María. So happy. She’s so different now.” Very quickly, the smile faded from Ingrid’s face and she held Mapi closer to her. 

“It’s all gonna be okay, mi princesa,” Mapi promised. 

You cleared your throat from the doorway, then, and your sister and her girlfriend sprung apart, blushing like high schoolers caught in an awkward position. “Are you guys done making out?” 

“We weren’t making out,” Ingrid groaned, as you all headed towards the door. 

“No, we only make out after training,” Mapi said seriously.

You made a fake retching sound, Ingrid slapped her girlfriend in the arm, and Mapi laughed to herself, but the tension was broken. And you had smiled, a real smile. Ingrid didn’t care what she had to say to see you smile again, she’d do it. 

--------

As was the norm when you went to training, the younger girls immediately latched onto you, yanking you away from Ingrid and pulling you into some scheme to get back at Mapi for the prank she’d pulled on them last week. It was the usual suspects; Pina,Vicky, Salma, and a couple others pulling you from the room, already giggling. They kindly didn’t say anything about the bruising and cuts on your face, and for that you were grateful, although you did get a few raised eyebrows from the older players. Ingrid watched you go anxiously, only turning her attention away from the door you’d walked out of when Mapi squeezed her hand.

“She’ll be fine.” Mapi promised. Ingrid nodded, but she didn’t stop worrying. And when Mapi went off to work in the gym herself, the Norwegian had no one to pull her out of her head. 

She worried all through the gym session, paying very little attention to what she was supposed to be doing. Which wasn’t normal for Ingrid, and it caught the attention of pretty much everyone. 

Ingrid was staring intently at where you were sitting against the wall in the shade, working on your homework, when Alexia and Frido approached. 

“Everything okay, Engen?” Alexia asked. 

“Yep.” Ingrid said distractedly. 

“What did our dear solstråle do this time?” Frido joked, having known your sister long enough to know precisely why you were living with her. Alexia knew, too, and smiled, joining in on the joke. Until Ingrid’s eyes inexplicably filled with tears, and she turned away from you, wiping harshly at her face. 

“Ingrid? What happened?” Frido wondered, running a hand up and down the Norwegian’s arm, while Alexia looked around anxiously, searching for anyone, anyone on earth, that would be better at dealing with whatever was going on than she would be. 

“It’s a long story.” Ingrid said, her voice cracking. Frido and Alexia exchanged looks, before the captain turned to Jona across the pitch. 

“Ingrid needs her ankle taped!” She shouted, before leading both women off the pitch. Jona nodded knowingly, despite the fact that Ingrid hadn’t done anything to her ankle, and it was rather odd for 2 entire people to accompany her to tape it. Jona knew that Alexia wouldn’t be asking for a minute for Ingrid if she didn’t think it was necessary. 

Ingrid let them pull her into the locker room, rather desperate for some advice and some honesty. Because Mapi loved her too much to tell her how badly she’d really messed up, and both Frido and Alexia were known to be brutally honest. She needed brutal honesty right now. No matter how much it hurt.

-------

You were busy struggling through an essay you were supposed to be writing entirely in Spanish when Frido sat down next to you. One look at her face told you she knew exactly what was going on. You weren’t that surprised. She was your sister’s best friend, and you’d known her for a long time. If there was anyone that Ingrid was going to talk to, it would be Frido. 

Frido always spoke to you in Norwegian, a thing you were endlessly grateful for. It instantly put you at ease, and today was no different, as she tugged playfully at your ear.

“How is my favorite Norwegian?” She asked. 

“I know you already asked your second favorite Norwegian.” You replied jokingly. 

“Why would I ask Caro how you are?” Frido deadpanned. 

You threw your head back, laughing loudly, and Frido grinned, continuing on to tell any and every joke she could think of. 

Ingrid watched from the doorway of the building, and when Mapi turned the corner and saw her watching the two of you, she knew exactly what her girlfriend was thinking. 

Ingrid saw Mapi coming, though, and forced a smile onto her face. “How was the gym?” She asked. 

“Fine. I was distracted though. How is she doing?” Mapi replied, nodding in your direction. 

“Well. She’s joking around with Frido. So, better I assume.” Ingrid said evenly. 

“She’s joking with Frido because Frido speaks her language, and she trusts her, and she didn’t just get into a screaming match with Frido. Frido didn’t read a letter containing her most upsetting feelings. She loves you, Ingrid, she just needs time.” Mapi assured her. Ingrid kissed her cheek softly, very appreciative that her girlfriend always knew what she needed. 

“What if she doesn’t want to talk when we get home?” Ingrid asked, after another minute. 

Mapi sounded wiser than normal when she spoke. Ingrid wasn’t used to her being the voice of reason in their relationship, but she appreciated that the defender always stepped up, and was always willing to be what Ingrid needed. “What happened last night was a big thing. She needs to process, and she needs to take her time with it. She’ll talk when she’s ready. And until then, we keep an eye on her, we give her hugs, and we tell her that we love her, vale?” 

“Okay.” Ingrid agreed. It was going to be a long and difficult evening of not suffocating you with questions, it seemed. She’d do it, though, if it was what you needed. Ingrid thought that she would probably quit football or cut off one of her limbs if that was what you needed. 

-------

You didn’t talk much the rest of the day, as Mapi predicted, and as Ingrid feared. Your sister did her best not to push you, and was mostly successful. Mapi kept the conversation going, able to talk about nothing for hours. She knew exactly which topics to discuss and which to avoid, and she knew how to make both you and Ingrid laugh until your stomachs hurt. Thank god for Mapi. 

You were… relatively alright. Until later that evening, when you got up to head upstairs to finish some homework. You’d accidentally picked up Ingrid’s phone thinking it was yours, and saw a few texts from your mom to her. All about how much she missed Ingrid, how she was thinking of her, how she made Ingrid’s favorite for dinner that night. Nothing about you. You put it back down silently, grabbed your phone, and tried not to think about it, to no avail.

Instead of doing your homework, you sat on the floor of your room, thinking of the fact that your mom had missed your birthday, and not even noticed. Ingrid had, too, but she’d apologized over and over, and she’d promised to take you shopping over the weekend, and to dinner. Ingrid was trying. Your mother hadn’t tried in a while. 

You didn’t realize you were crying until Mapi knocked on the door to say goodnight. She peaked in, frowning when she saw the fresh tears on your cheeks. 

“Hey,” she said softly, carefully lowering herself to the ground next to you, minding her knee. She texted Ingrid to come upstairs, and pressed a kiss to the side of your head. “I’m not going to ask if you’re okay, because I know that you aren’t. But Ingrid and I love you. Ingrid and I want you here. Ingrid and I are gonna fix things, and that is a promise.” 

You registered the words, though you didn’t believe them. Still, you gave Mapi a watery smile and leaned into her a bit. Ingrid’s footsteps were quiet in the hall, but you recognized that she was walking faster than normal. She appeared at your door, then, giving Mapi a meaningful look, and took Mapi’s place, sliding down onto the floor next to you. You pulled your knees to your chest, wrapping your arms around them and holding tight. It looked as if you were trying to physically hold yourself together. 

“Hey, solstråle,” Ingrid said softly. You murmured a greeting, not moving your chin from your knees, and not turning your gaze towards your sister either. It was quiet for a minute before Ingrid prompted you. “Talk to me, please.” 

You sighed, a tear rolling down your cheek. “‘I just miss Mom.” You said finally. 

Ingrid’s chest squeezed uncomfortably. You were so stubborn, so willful, sometimes she forgot you were just a kid. Just an 18 year old kid living in a foreign country, who missed her mom. “Do you want to call her?” She asked, not very confident in the suggestion, but not really sure what else to say. 

You instantly shook your head. “No. She doesn’t want to talk to me.” 

“Kjære, of course she does,” Ingrid began, but she wasn’t really sure. Your parents were so different, now. And whenever Ingrid called her mom, she never asked about you. She only wanted to hear about Ingrid. Your sister wasn’t stupid, she knew she was their favorite, but she didn’t expect them to write you off completely when you moved to Spain. They seemed happier, now. Without you there. It was something Ingrid couldn’t understand. Neither could you, really, but you had long accepted it. 

“No she doesn’t. I stopped calling her, just to see. 2 months ago. She hasn’t called me once. She doesn’t want me, anymore, Ingrid. I know I was an accident, but if they were going to hate me for ruining their early retirement plans, I don’t know why they didn't just…” 

Ingrid was speechless. At a loss for words, and so so angry. You filled the silence, though, things you’d never said out loud falling out of your mouth like you couldn’t help it. 

“I miss what mom was like before, when I was younger. When you were still at home. I miss that mom. I don’t miss the one that I could call right now.” 

“I don’t understand,” Ingrid said quietly, her hand resting on your head, and pulling you closer to her. 

“Ingrid, I know mom is always nice to you, but,” 

“No, solstråle. I don’t understand her. How she could bring someone so perfect into this world and not want to spend the rest of her life watching you grow up. I’ll never forgive her for how she’s made you feel, and I’ll never forgive myself for not noticing earlier. I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to make it better. I promise you.” 

“Thanks, Ing.” You mumbled, looking up at her for a minute before resting your head on her shoulder. 

The problem was, Ingrid could tell you didn’t believe her. She could see it in your eyes; they were still so guarded and so hurt. You were still angry with her, she knew. You thought she just felt guilty, and eventually she would go back to how she was before. Ingrid didn’t know how to make you believe what she felt and what she told you. She worried so deeply that she wouldn’t be able to. That too much damage had been done, and that maybe she wouldn’t be able to fix it. Late at night, early in the morning, right in the middle of a match, she worried about that. All the time until it consumed her, and all she wanted to do was sit with you, and promise you over and over that she loved you more than anything on this planet. What if you never believed her? 

-------

doesn't everyone feel so much better now!

[just-aake]

A Feline Connection Part 7

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: Natasha has to face the harsh reality that she can’t help everyone.

Masterlist Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9

Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, light fluff

Words: 3790

“Whitney Frost, daughter of Byron Frost—a typical Wall Street tycoon,” Tony’s voice echoes through the phone as he reads out the details FRIDAY managed to dig up.

On Natasha’s screen, she can see multiple files and articles pulled up on Tony’s monitors, the holographic images casting a blue glow on his face as he continues.

“There are plenty of articles about her earlier years. Standard socialite magazine garbage—life of a spoiled rich kid, extravagant parties, lavish vacations. You get the idea.”

Natasha lets out a dry scoff at the irony, her lips curling slightly. 

“Coming from the playboy billionaire who once blew up half of his mansion?”

Tony gasps theatrically, placing a hand over his chest in a wounded gesture. 

“Watch it, Romanoff. I’m helping you here.”

Rolling her eyes, Natasha nods. “My bad. Please, continue.”

Tony huffs, turning his attention back to his screens. 

“After her father’s death, she goes dark for a couple of years. No public appearances, no sightings—nothing. Coincidentally, around the same time, reports start cropping up about a new leader rising within one of the East Coast’s major crime families. Descriptions of the leader consistently include one distinct detail: a golden mask, giving them the title–”

“Madame Masque,” Natasha finishes for him, her tone flat.  

“Bingo,” Tony confirms. “Over the years, she’s pulled off some pretty big moves. Arms deals, arson, major heists—she’s dangerous, Nat.”

There’s a shuffle of papers in the background, and Peter’s voice chimes in. 

“I don’t get it, Mr. Stark. If she was already rich, why turn to crime?”

Natasha doesn’t hesitate to answer. 

“It’s not always about money,” she says. “Sometimes it’s just about power and control.” 

A brief silence follows, the weight of her words sinking in. 

Tony’s expression darkens slightly, and even Peter doesn’t offer a rebuttal. They all know Natasha is right. 

People like Whitney thrive on domination, bending others to their will. 

Natasha’s frown deepens, her thoughts drifting back to the night before—the memory of you leaving with Whitney still fresh and raw. She exhales slowly, the sting of hurt in her chest flaring again, though she pushes it down. 

Suddenly, Tony’s voice cuts through the quiet. 

“Okay, I can’t ignore this anymore. What are you doing?” 

Natasha’s brows knit in confusion as she glances at the screen. “What do you mean?”

Tony leans closer to the camera, pointing a finger at her with exaggerated disbelief.

“Why are you bottle-feeding that cat like it’s a baby?”

Natasha pulls Widow closer, cradling the tiny feline protectively against her chest. In her free hand, she holds a small baby bottle filled with water, offering it near the cat’s mouth. 

“She still won’t eat complete meals,” Natasha explains defensively. “At least this way, she’s staying hydrated.” 

Widow lets out a faint, sad meow, turning away from the bottle and burrowing deeper into Natasha’s arm. 

Natasha sighs softly, her expression tinged with disappointment as she looks down at the cat.

Peter’s voice pipes up from off-screen. 

“Miss Romanoff, I could go pick up some different kinds of cat food if you’d like?”

Before Natasha can respond, Tony waves him off. 

“Great idea, kid. Take my card and have at it.”

“Awesome,” Peter replies, his excitement evident as he disappears from view. 

As soon as Peter is gone, Natasha raises an eyebrow at Tony. 

“Was that really a good idea?”

Tony shrugs, leaning back in his chair. “Eh, it’ll be fine.” 

“So, what is it?” Natasha asks knowingly. She can tell Tony got rid of Peter so that he would not hear whatever it is Tony was holding back. 

“Some tough love,” he says bluntly, his relaxed demeanor shifting into something more serious. He leans forward, fixing her with a pointed look. “Look, Nat, if your friend is running with people like Whitney Frost, you might need to face the facts.”

“Which are?” Natasha’s tone grows colder, her jaw tightening.

“She’s a criminal,” Tony states flatly, the words landing like a stone.

Natasha’s frown deepens, the label grating against her as she reflexively clutches Widow a little tighter. “And?” 

Tony sighs, shaking his head as if she’s missing the obvious. 

“You need to start treating her like one.”

Natasha’s eyes narrow. 

“Did you forget I used to be an assassin?” she counters, her voice tinged with sarcasm.

“And now you’re an Avenger,” Tony fires back without missing a beat. “Not everyone’s like you, Nat. Not everyone wants to change.” 

The silence stretches between them, tension simmering as Natasha processes his words.  

Seeing her still hesitant to accept the fact, he adds softly, “You can’t help someone who doesn’t even want it.”

Natasha frowns, her eyes drifting down to the little cat in her arms. She strokes her fur delicately, and Widow returns a faint purr in response, though she still refuses to move much more than that. 

“Send me everything you have on Whitney and Madame Masque,” Natasha says, her determination resolving. 

She’s not going to give up on you so easily.

Tony studies her for a moment, his expression knowing before he sighs and leans back in his chair. 

“Already done.”

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

A deep sigh escapes Natasha as she rubs her tired eyes, trying to dispel the exhaustion. The hours have stretched into the late night, a glance at the window and then at the clock on her tablet confirming just how much time has passed.

Beside her on the couch, Widow is curled into a small ball, her tiny body seeming to shrink further with every passing moment. 

The meal Natasha had prepared for her earlier sits barely touched—a few nibbles at best.

Though, in her tired mind, Natasha can’t help but let a stray thought creep in: maybe her cooking is bad enough to deter a cat. 

The self-deprecating humor makes her sigh again, a sure sign of just how drained she feels. 

Setting the tablet on the table, Natasha leans back against the armrest of the couch, her head tilting to rest against the cushion. She raises an arm to cover her eyes, allowing herself just a brief reprieve, not planning to sleep but needing the darkness to ease the strain from hours of research. 

For a while, the silence wraps around her like a blanket. 

Natasha focuses on her breathing, the steady rise and fall helping her ground herself. 

Eventually, she debates whether she has it in her to dive back into her work for the night when a sudden movement shifts at her side. 

Tiny paws pad up her torso, and then a soft weight settles against her stomach.

A familiar, distinct meow breaks the quiet—a chirping, happy sound Natasha hasn’t heard from Widow in days. 

She freezes, her body going rigid as suspicion blooms in her chest. Breathing slowly, Natasha tries to maintain her sleeping position so as not to give herself away.

Widow’s sudden shift in mood—it could only mean one thing.

“I know you’re awake,” your voice cuts through the stillness, warm and teasing from just above her.

Realizing she’s caught, Natasha exhales softly with a mix of both relief at your presence but also mild frustration at the fact that you were able to sneak up on her again. 

She removes her arm from her eyes, blinking up to meet your gaze.

You’re leaning casually against the back of the couch, your head tilted and resting atop the cushion, a small smirk on your lips. 

“It’s way too early for you to have fallen asleep,” you tease lightly, your voice carrying that familiar playful lilt. 

Your attention shifts to Widow, who’s now eagerly leaning against the cushion to lick at your outstretched hand. 

“Isn’t that right, Widow?” you coo, your tone softening as you address the little cat.

Widow chirps again, louder this time, in agreement and nuzzles against your hand with obvious affection. 

Natasha can’t help but scoff lightly, shaking her head at the way the two of you seem to operate as a perfect team.

Carefully, she sits up, trying not to disturb Widow perched atop her. 

However, the movement brings her face unintentionally close to yours. She stills as she realizes the proximity, her lips parting slightly as the quip she intended to deliver gets caught in her throat. 

Instead, all that escapes is a soft exhale. 

Your smirk falters, replaced by a small, almost sad smile. Your eyes search hers, lingering as if you can see something more beyond her carefully maintained exterior. 

The intensity of the moment steals Natasha’s breath, the weight of unspoken words hanging between you. 

Breaking the tension, you lift a hand into view, holding up a bag of takeout containers.

“I brought dinner,” you say softly, the warmth in your tone cutting through the charged silence.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Natasha sits cross-legged on the couch, a takeout box resting limply on her lap as her attention drifts away from the half-eaten meal inside. 

Instead, her gaze falls on the two of you. 

You’re seated on the floor on the other side of the coffee table, also cross-legged, with Widow nestled comfortably in your lap. 

The little cat looks more content than she has in days, her tiny paws resting on the edge of the table as she eagerly eats the torn-up pieces of meat you prepared for her. 

A wave of relief washes over Natasha at the sight of Widow eating normally again, her movements lively and natural. It eases the knot of worry that’s been sitting in her chest, but as always, her focus inevitably drifts to you. 

It’s a pull she can’t resist, her gaze lingering on the subtle details in your expression, the quiet ease with which you handle the moment. 

Natasha absently stirs the noodles in her box, her mind turning over the question she’s been holding back since you arrived. It gnaws at her, but finding the right way to ask feels like navigating a minefield.

“How…” she begins, her voice hesitant, but the words falter. 

Natasha bites her lip, uncertain whether she has the right to pry into your life any deeper. 

You glance up at her, catching on to the unfinished question. Setting your takeout container on the table, you tilt your head slightly, offering her an easy opening. 

“How am I here?” you ask knowingly, your voice gentle.

Wordlessly, Natasha nods, grateful but wary of the answer.

“You didn’t look at the USB?” you ask, a touch of curiosity in your tone. 

Natasha shakes her head. 

“I was busy worrying about more pressing matters,” she says, her eyes flicking meaningfully to Widow, who’s still munching happily in your lap. “And anyway, it didn’t seem like she wanted me to have it in the first place.” 

You huff lightly at her words, and with an amused shake of your head, you turn Widow to face you, your fingers gently scratching behind her ears. 

“You were supposed to give it to her,” you chide playfully. 

Widow lets out a small, sassy meow, as if to argue her point, and then wiggles free from your grasp. 

Natasha watches with mild curiosity as the little cat pads over to the side table, where the USB has sat untouched for days. Widow grabs the small device in her mouth and trots back toward Natasha. 

Stopping at her side, Widow drops the USB onto Natasha’s lap with a decisive plop before looking up at her with a smug little chirp, her tail swishing behind her. 

Natasha raises an eyebrow, her lips twitching with the faintest hint of a smile as she picks up the USB. 

“Thank you,” she remarks dryly, her tone soft but teasing.

Widow lets out a pleased meow, circling once before hopping back into your lap, her little body nestling comfortably against you. 

Natasha’s gaze shifts to the USB, her fingers brushing over its surface thoughtfully, before lifting her eyes to meet yours.

“So,” she says, her tone calm but tinged with curiosity, “what exactly am I going to find on here?” 

You glance down at Widow, stroking her head absently as you answer, your voice steady but carrying an undertone of something more. 

“Whitney had a scheduled meeting out of state with some buyers tonight.” 

At the mention of the other woman, Natasha narrows her eyes slightly, reading between the lines. 

“So this is…?”

“Everything you need to finish your original mission,” you reply evenly, meeting her gaze with a serious expression. “The buyers’ identities, their locations, the details of each weapons deal. Enough to track them down and stop the weapons from being used in the wrong hands.” 

Natasha studies you closely, her sharp instinct catching on to the underlying reason for your sudden assistance in her original mission. 

“To shift my attention from Whitney.” 

Your silence at her pointed remark is telling. 

Natasha’s lips press into a thin line, the unspoken truth hanging between you. She tilts her head, her voice firmer now. 

“Why are you protecting her?” 

You flinch slightly at the accusation, your hand pausing mid-stroke on Widow’s fur. After a moment, you let out a sigh, your gaze drifting downward. 

“You know, it wasn’t always like this between us,” you say quietly. 

Natasha stays silent, letting you continue.

“Her dad—her real dad—was the original leader of the organization,” you explain, your voice tinged with something softer, almost nostalgic. “I met her when she was training to take over his position. Or, rather, she found me. I was just a simple thief back then. But not to her.”

You pause, your hand resuming its slow strokes over Widow’s fur as you collect your thoughts. 

“She made me an offer—something I never expected. Another opportunity for my life. To join her. She saw something in me. Something…more.”

The words hang in the air, and Natasha feels a pang of understanding, recalling her own experience from the past. 

“It felt good,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “Having someone look at you like that, like you’re worth something. Like you could be more than you ever thought of yourself.” 

You let out a soft, bitter chuckle. 

“She’s always been good at that. Making you feel special. Like you’re the only one who matters.” 

Natasha’s gaze softens slightly, her arms folding across her chest as she listens. She doesn’t interrupt, sensing the weight behind your words.

“No matter what she did—how far she went—I always found a way to forgive her,” you continue, your tone darkening. “Until I couldn’t anymore.” 

There’s a long pause, the quiet broken only by the faint sounds of Widow’s contented purring. Finally, you lift your gaze to Natasha’s, the vulnerability in your eyes stark, unguarded, and disarming.

“And then I met you,” you say softly, your voice carrying a bittersweet edge. “And for a while, I felt that same thing again. That feeling from the beginning—when it was just lighthearted, fun, and flirty, intoxicating even.”

Natasha’s breath catches, her chest tightening at the quiet admission. The honesty in your words cuts through the usual banter and teasing, leaving her unsure how to respond.

“But I already know how this ends,” you add, your voice softer now, tinged with resignation. “I’ve seen it before. And I can’t…” You trail off, shaking your head slightly, the words left unfinished. 

Natasha watches you closely, her sharp gaze softening despite the weight of your rejection. She leans forward, her voice low but steady in understanding. 

“It’s okay. You don’t owe me anything.” 

Her tone shifts, gaining a quiet intensity and insistence.

“But you don’t need to stay with her either. We can figure out a way to disengage the bomb without you returning to her. A way to keep you both safe.”

Your gaze lowers, regret flickering in your expression. When you finally speak, your voice is heavy with sorrow.

“I have to go back.”

Natasha’s lips part in protest, her brows knitting together in frustration, but before she can speak, you cut her off, your tone firmer now.

“Not because of the bomb,” you clarify. “But because of what I did to her.”

You rise slowly, retrieving the tablet from the table, its screen still displaying the research Tony sent on Whitney. Sensing the shift, Widow hops into Natasha’s lap, purring softly as Natasha strokes her fur, grounding herself.

Sitting down beside her, you scroll through the files until you find what you’re looking for. Wordlessly, you turn the screen toward her. 

Natasha scans the report, her frown deepening with each line. 

It details a failed raid on a Stark Industries facility, ending in a catastrophic explosion. Operatives were killed or gravely injured. Their leader, however, was not discovered among those found.

“I abandoned her that night,” you say softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “None of that would have happened if I had stayed.” 

“You don’t know that,” Natasha counters firmly, her gaze snapping to yours, her hand reaching out instinctively to rest atop yours.

A faint, sad smile tugs at your lips at her touch, and you shake your head slightly.

“I appreciate the thought,” you reply, your voice tinged with bittersweet humor, “but we both know that’s not true—especially considering how I’ve managed to sneak past Stark’s defenses twice now without any problems.”

The smirk you add at the end is small, almost fleeting, but it carries a sting of truth that Natasha can’t ignore.

You’re exceptionally skilled. She can’t deny that.

Your fingers brush hers lightly, tracing the bandages covering her knuckles. A contemplative sadness crosses your face.

Then slowly, you lift her hand to your lips, pressing a soft, almost apologetic kiss against her skin before lowering it back onto Widow’s fur.

“I’m not innocent here, Natasha,” you continue resolutely, your voice low, as if the words are for you as much as for her. “I never was.”

Natasha’s jaw tightens at your words, but she doesn’t interrupt as you continue. 

“I owe her a lot,” you admit, your voice heavy with the weight of your past. “She gave me a chance when no one else did. She saw something in me that I couldn’t. And yet…” Your voice falters slightly, but you press on.  

“I still betrayed her in the end.”

Your gaze shifts to Natasha, your eyes meeting hers with a depth of emotion that makes her chest ache. 

“You deserve more than to wait for me to eventually do the same to you,” you say softly. “More than I already have.” 

Natasha’s chest tightens, the quiet ache spreading as she watches you, her gaze taking in every flicker of pain and regret etched across your features.

But this time, it’s not sadness that rises within her—it’s anger. Not at you, but at everything else.

At Whitney, for manipulating you. At the circumstances that have pushed you to this breaking point. And most of all, at the invisible chains of guilt that hold you hostage, preventing you from seeing a way out.

Her hands twitch, the urge to reach for you almost overwhelming. She wants to close the distance between you, to grasp your shoulders and shake you free from the weight of your past, to tell you that this isn’t your only option.

But she hesitates, her fingers curling into fists as she forces herself to stop.

Forcing you to accept her help, no matter how badly she wants to, would make her no different from Whitney. It would just be another form of control, another pressure you don’t deserve.

And Natasha refuses to become that.

Instead, after a long pause, she speaks with quiet determination.

“What will happen to Widow?” 

You look down at the small cat, curled up peacefully in Natasha’s lap, and sigh. 

“I can’t bring her back with me,” you admit, your voice thick with regret. “But I’ll stay with her as long as I can tonight. Make sure she’s okay, and I’ll explain it to her—let her think it’s like last time, when she stayed with you while I was away.” 

You glance at Natasha, searching for her response. 

“If…you’re still willing to take care of her?”

Natasha straightens slightly, her expression softening as a small smirk forms on her lips.

“I promised, didn’t I?”

Your lips twitch into a faint smile at her answer, gratitude flickering in your eyes. 

But Natasha isn’t done. She leans forward, her tone resolute as her gaze locks onto yours.

“You don’t have to keep punishing yourself,” she says, her words deliberate and carefully chosen. “If you feel guilty about what you’ve done, you can always make it right for yourself. You still have that choice.” 

Her words hang in the air, heavy with meaning, an unspoken plea woven into her steady tone. 

Natasha’s expression holds no judgment, only quiet insistence and something deeper—hope.

The silence that follows feels fragile, as if it could shatter at the wrong move. 

Widow shifts slightly in her lap, her tiny body curling closer as her soft purring fills the space between you. 

It’s a faint sound, but comforting nonetheless, grounding you in a moment that feels far too heavy for words.

For a fleeting second, Natasha sees something in your eyes—an almost imperceptible flicker, as if her words might be reaching you. 

But then your gaze drops, breaking the connection, and the moment slips away. 

Without a word, you gently lift Widow from her lap, cradling her with the same care Natasha has come to associate with you, and rise to your feet. 

Natasha sits up a little straighter, her sharp eyes following your movements as you step toward the hallway, your figure outlined by the dim glow of the room.

“Try to get some rest, Miss Black Widow,” you say softly, your tone steady but carrying a subtle finality that roots her in place. You pause just before disappearing from sight, your head turning slightly as if debating whether to say more.

“You, out of everyone, deserve it.” 

The words linger in the air long after you’ve gone into your bedroom, wrapping around Natasha like a quiet echo. 

She stays where she is, her fingers drifting absentmindedly over the fabric of the couch where you’d been sitting just moments ago, as if tracing the memory of you.

The warmth of your presence is gone, replaced by an emptiness that spreads through the room, making it feel colder, quieter. 

Natasha exhales slowly, leaning back against the couch and staring at the space where you had disappeared from her view. 

She knows you meant those words for her, but the ache in her chest tells her they’re something you’ve denied yourself for far too long. 

“So do you,” she whispers into the empty room, her voice barely audible but filled with a longing that she knows you’ll never let yourself hear.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9

a/n: Fair warning, I believe there’s only a couple parts left in this series. But don’t quote me on this cause we all know I’ve never been good at predicting the number of chapters left. Again thanks for reading!

If you asked to be tagged and I missed it or if the tag did not work for you, please let me know.

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[inmyheaddd]

walkin’ out the door with your bags - grayson hawthorne x reader - part two

⤷ “can you see me using everything to hold back? i guess this could be worse, walkin’ out the door with your bags.”

summary: you and grayson can’t avoid eachother forever, and end up ditching the party to stay in each others company — just like old times. a/n: the text sequence at the end was so fun to write i’m giggling, (gc saw it first!!) wc: 1.9k masterlist || series masterlist — other parts!

you were attending a hawthorne event, a large charity-gala of some sort. they were all the same to you, if you were being honest.

on the topic of being honest, you had been avoiding grayson for the past few days after that incident, as much as you denied it to your best friend gigi, who you just recently moved in with. 

the ballroom in the hawthorne house was decorated to the max, glittering silver ornaments with a live orchestra playing gentle music. the lighting was soft, along with the quiet chatter of everyone in the room.

grayson was standing with a drink in his hand with someone talking to him— but none of his attention was on that. 

he wasn’t even looking at the guy, he was looking at you. he ditched that unreadable expression he always wore at these events for a moment as he watched you interact with his half sister, gigi. 

the smile on your face was unmatched, gigi always brought that out of you. she was by far one of your favorite people to ever exist; it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say you’d walk to the ends of the earth for her. 

her wide eyes kept flickering somewhere behind you, when a sly grin slowly grew on her face. 

she trailed off on the story she was telling, raising a singular brow in question. 

"why is my brother looking at you like that?" she teased, leaning in a little closer, "you know, that brooding, sad-but-also-angry at life and longing face he does?"

you furrowed your brows at her, confusion tugging at your features. "what? what are you talking about?"

she just gave a pointed look over your shoulder. reluctantly, you turned around, and there he was— grayson's eyes were already locked on yours.

you felt frozen for a moment, until you managed a small smile, which he returned with a subtle nod. nothing more.

you let out a long exhale when you turned back to gigi, who was looking at you inquisitively like you were a puzzle, searching your whole face for a tell on what was happening. 

and after a split second, her mouth fell open in an O shape. 

“oh, is this about the awkward almost confession you told me about?” she sighed, “you guys are besties! you have been, for even longer than we’ve been besties, don’t overthink it.” 

she was giving you that look—the one that said she knew way more than you wanted her to.

“no— i mean, i don’t know. i’m overreacting, i know, but…” you trailed off, “thats the thing gigi, we’re best friends, and things keep getting weird, i don’t want to ruin our bond.” you sighed defeatedly, wishing you could articulate the swirl of emotions you felt just a little better.

 “it’s sort of getting hard to not overthink it.” you added with a forced chuckle.

 gigi gave you a sympathetic look but didn’t push further. she didn’t have to—you were already glancing back toward grayson again. he was at the bar now, his back to you, looking more distant than ever.

you felt the sudden need to talk to him. you knew you couldn’t avoid him. not here. not ever, really.

“go get him, tiger.” gigi whispered loudly as she nudged you.

that brought you out of your trance-like state, laughing in amusement as you looked at her. “gigi,”

“what?” gigi laughed in that oh-so—gigi way, “i’m just being supportive.”

 “go,” she continued, giving you a gentle shove. “talk to him. you’ll feel better.”

“okay, okay,” you grinned, more to ease yourself than anything, then glanced back at her. “i’ll be back.”

you said, sending gigi a small smile before you turned and made your way through people. or rather, them moving out of your way. 

“and then there were none,” you heard gigi mutter and sigh, just before you heard another voice behind you. 

“well, if it isn’t none other than my favorite half sister, who’s not quite my sister! how ive missed you.” 

“xander! how i missed you!” you heard gigi squeak out as you kept walking away, the smile on your face residing into a resting, semi-forced one as you drew closer to grayson, the familiar rhythm of your heels against the marble floor grounding you.

he turned to look at you before you even made your presence known, icy grey eyes nearly freezing you in place.

“hey stranger,” you managed, smiling as you sat beside him. you tried your hardest to ignore the way his eyes travelled all around your face and down to your outfit for a moment.

you had zero idea what to talk to him about. “it’s a big night for you hawthornes, huh?” 

he was silent for a second, “i suppose so. ” he said, almost stuck in time for a moment as his eyes stayed glued to yours.

“i’ve realised, we haven’t had the chance to talk much recently.” he didn’t linger on the small talk for a moment longer. straight to the point. that was grayson hawthorne for you.

“yeah, it’s been a weird week.” you sighed dramatically, picking up your glass that a bartender served to you without having to ask and swirling it in faux melancholy. 

grayson smiled with his eyes looking a lot less cold now, looking down at his lap for a moment. 

when your eyes met again, he tilted his head slightly before speaking. “your glasses?” he asked simply.

“i’m not going to wear glasses to an event like this, gray.” 

he studied your face for a moment with a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. “shame,” he said, after a second of silence. 

your heart felt weird at that, so like always, you covered up whatever you were feeling with some type of joke. “you’ll see them when we hang out tomorrow, don’t sulk too much.” 

one of his eyebrows raised, almost in amusement, as he spoke again. “we’re seeing eachother tomorrow?”

“of course we are, idiot,” you said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “i haven’t seen you all—“ 

you cut yourself off a wince as the classical orchestra of violins and piano swelled louder behind the murmurs of the crowd. you and grayson exchanged a glance— he looked like he was committing the way you laughed at the absurdity of the moment to memory.

—

the music proved to be far too loud for you to hear your own thoughts, let alone continuing any attempt at talking with grayson. 

you suggested your favorite spot to go to at events like this; the stairs. 

it was unusual, but it was yours and grayson’s thing. 

well it was yours originally- leaving suddenly when an event got too boring, and soon grayson just began to tag along.

his grandfather did not like you for that reason.

you sat down first, the cool marble sending a shiver up your legs, and as grayson settled beside you. he seemed to notice the way your dress rode up just slightly, leaving you a little exposed. without a word, he shrugged off his suit jacket and leaned over, draping it over your lap

“you’re cold,” he said quietly, almost like it was a fact, not up for debate.

you opened your mouth to argue, but stopped yourself. there was no point. grayson hawthorne didn’t ask—he observed, and then he acted.

you turned your head to look at grayson. 

he was looking straight ahead with his elbows resting on his thighs, leaning forward slightly with his hands clasped in front of him.

you just muttered a soft “thanks,” adjusting the jacket a little, the warmth spreading quickly through the fabric. his eyes cut to yours as you looked at him for a moment, a strand of blonde hair falling in his face.

he didn’t say anything then, just nodded as he back looked down at his hands for a moment before loosening his collar. there was a silence, it wasn’t uncomfortable. it was… something else.

alright, maybe it was a little uncomfortable, because now when it was just you two; no comfort of other people’s simply being there, or gigi’s motivational words there to push you on, you felt stuck, and a lot more awkward. 

you couldn’t stop yourself from blurting out the words that have been plaguing you all week.

“hey, we’re good, right?”

he finally kept his eyes on yours for more than 5 seconds, “of course we are.” he said, his jaw tight like the thought of you being anything else hurt. 

"we’re always going to be good," his tone softer now. "we’ve gone through too much together much for us to be anything else."

us, what a word. 

“yeah,” you breathed out, “way too much.” you said with a smile as you reflected back on seemingly your entire friendship. 

to take some of the edge off of the moment, you continued, “if we stopped being friends,” you added, laughing to yourself as you looked at your hands, “i’d tell everyone your embarrassing stories.”

you just knew his eyebrow arched, “i do not have any embarrassing stories.”

“yes you do,” you finally met his amused gaze, and that one blonde strand was back in place now. “and your reputation of being mysterious will be ruined.”

“i have a reputation of being mysterious, now?” his brow rose even further, and you couldn’t hold back your laugh.

“oh please, don’t act like you don’t know it.” 

grayson’s lips twitched into a small, barely-there smile, the kind that made you feel like you were the only one who ever saw it. he opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by the fast clicking of heels — someone was running very fast.

your heads both turned in silence as you watched gigi run up to you, calling out your name repeatedly.

“oh,” she panted out of breath as she put a hand on her chest, leaning forward. “hi guys. grayson, what a surprise seeing you here!”

grayson furrowed his brows, as if to say, ‘i live here,’ but your roommate was already on her next agenda as her wide blue eyes focused on you.

“hey, we really have to go now.” she spoke with excitement in her voice as she put her hands on your shoulders, “i lost xander,” she said, a frown overtaking her features for a split second before she smiled with excitement again.

“but i found this super cute guy with a super cool car, and he said he’ll drive us home! he really loves cats, and he said his favorite movie is superbad!” she spoke out of breath, almost at the point of wheezing, as grayson stood up and adjusted his sleeve cuffs. 

his voice was suddenly level and stern, and it reminded you that to gigi, he’d always be her big brother. 

“you are not getting in anyone’s car, no matter their favorite movie or how much they claim to like cats.” 

and that to grayson, she’d always be his little sister.

“why are you so skeptical? gray, his phone wallpaper is his pet parrot! try and tell me that’s not the most precious thing ever.” she called for you, widening her eyes, “back me up here!” 

you were still sitting down on the stairs as they both stood infront of you, one narrow eyed stare, and one wide eyed-excited one. 

“how cool of a car are we talking?” you asked.

“oh, so cool-“

“you’re not serious.” grayson’s cold voice cut through, the look on his face making you laugh out loud. 

sometimes all a girl really needed was a really bad idea, and a best friend to go with it. 

“sorry grayson, priorities call.” you stated simply as you stood up, pushing his jacket into his arms which he caught swiftly. 

gigi clapped excitedly, “we have to hurry! he said hes leaving soon— has work early tomorrow!” she exclaimed as she held out her hand for you to take. 

a long exhale escaped grayson’s lips as he shook his head, “i worry for you both.” he said as you began to run off with gigi. 

“don’t forget, tomorrow!” you called out loudly as you turned your head to look at him with gigi tugging you along.

he ran his hand through his hair, jacket draped over his shoulder, and even from afar, you could tell there was that not-quite smile on his face. 

the second you stepped into the guys car— noah, who actually seemed like a perfect fit for gigi— a chain of texts came from grayson, who was usually an avid single-word texter.

grumpy blonde 👎 — What is this man’s name?  — Please tell me when you’ve arrived safely.  — I’ve found the car model and license plate, if anything goes wrong, don’t hesitate to call. you — omg grayson — how the hell did you find the car model and license plate?? — you hawthornes scare me — btw… gigi and this guy are really hitting it off 😇 grumpy blonde 👎 — You’re not funny. you — thanks ❤️  — we just arrived!! — gigi gave him a kiss on the cheek, i thought you’d like to know that 💘 grumpy blonde 👎 —I did not, actually. you — glad to be of service  — alsooo bring ur pretty camera pls — be prepared for my glasses grumpy blonde 👎 — Will do. — Counting down the seconds. Can’t wait 🙃 you — i can’t tell if you’re just really dry or being sarcastic — you stress me out  grumpy blonde 👎 — Take it as up to interpretation. Whatever you’d like. you - — LMAOO ur funny sometimes  — … — i hate when a man makes me laugh  — goodnight grumpy blonde 👎 — Goodnight, see you tomorrow 👍🏻

taglist:@x-liv25-jamieswife @wish-i-were-heather @thecircularlibrary @whatsamongus @taysbrina

@littlemissmentallyunstable @anintellectualintellectual @bewitchingkisses @maybxlle @sheisntyou

@emelia07 @midiosaamor @sweetreveriee @charsoamerican @hxress23

@imaseabear @soleilars @clarissaweasley-10 @off-to-the-r4ces @thelov3lybookworm

@lanterns-and-daydreams

[barnxsromanxff]

That Night | Josh Washington x reader

| Do not repost any of my writes without credit to me

Pairing: Post prank Josh x f!reader

Prompt: The real events of that night start to reveal themselves as Josh is tied up.

Warnings: implied smut, make out sesh, cussing, crying, slut shaming, emetophobia warning, mentions of death

A/N: So this is kinda angsty? i never really write sad stuff but i wanted to try something new. This one is a bit short, let me know if i should add a part 2! remember requests are open through my inbox, comments or dm me! i hope you enjoy!

Also i’m sorry if it’s not the most game accurate depiction! I tried my best :,)

His hands traced every curve and line on your body, his tongue worshiping your skin. His lips grazing your own. You felt like a goddess as he let your name fall from his lips as a prayer.

His voice, his scent, his body, everything about him was overwhelming your senses. Even with the lights off he had your figure memorized, touching every sensitive spot you had.

His drunken mumbles began to form into a cohesive sentence, “I love you.”

~

You held onto your coat trying to keep any warmth in, shivering to regulate your temperate. Your gaze rested on his erratic form, his breathing irregular as he screamed out,

“You pussy!”

His exaggerated scream making you roll your eyes, your fingers found there way to the bridge of your nose with you pinched tight.

You pretty much ignored the entire argument, it was getting you all nowhere. You only started paying attention when he mentioned you again,

“Excuse me! Am I boring Miss righteous over here?”

You dead panned at your best friend, no evidence of a smile at all. You stood up and came closer to him,

“Josh, I think i’m speaking for everyone here, shut the fuck up.”

Your sudden outburst shocked the boys but Chris and Mike nodded in agreement. You began pacing the shed, your mind spinning rapidly,

“Why are we even here? This was so stupid,”

You let out a shaky laugh and continued your rant with it slowly turning from an angry cry out to sobs leaving your lips.

“We shouldn’t even be here.”

You repeated, over and over, your hands raking through your disheveled hair. The boys all watched your every move intensely, finally there was silence in the room.

You believed what you said, you were still in denial. Your two closest friends were gone, and it was time for you to realize this.

“Fuck! What the fuck.”

You kicked over a box of old tools, the noise clambering against the wall. You held your body tight, trying to find any form of comfort. Everything was wrong, this wasn’t how it was suppose to be.

“Hey, Come here.”

Chris pulled your body close to his, the heat from his build enveloping yours. He stood there silent, knowing no words would bring any comfort to you.

Everyone knew you were right, but no one had the energy or need to agree.

As he held your body you could hear snickers coming from tied up Josh, a heavy sigh leaving your lips as you prepared for his next verbal assault.

“I’m just saying, one heck of a performance. You don’t think I know what really happened that night?”

Your eyes squinted in confusion, for once you wanted him to continue. You stepped away from Chris and felt desperate to hear what he was going to say, you internally slapped yourself as you gestured him to go on with his rant.

“Josh? What are you talking about?”

He scoffed, the look in his eyes full of hatred. He thrashed his body attempting to get out of the tight constraints.

“Whoring yourself for a prank? Pretty low if you ask me, just as bad as good ol’ Mike here.”

Your stomach sank as you begin to realize what he was implying.

“I remember every. single. second. of that night. Too bad I wasn’t there for Beth and Hannah, instead with you.”

You shook your head, your tears continued and you yelled out a ‘No!’

“You took me back there just to distract me, fucked me real good huh? Should’ve known it wasn’t real, out of everyone that night,”

He paused before finally meeting your eyes, the look sending shivers down your spine.

“You, you disgust me. You hurt me the most.”

Mike and Chris exchanged confused looks. No one knew what that night had looked like for you and Josh, that being the one secret you had the power to hold. The one thing not distorted by that evil memory that night holds for you.

It went silent, your mind recalling the events of that night

~

“Shhhh Josh, they’ll hear.”

You held his hand as he led you away from the group, both stumbling and trying to find your way through the maze of his lodge.

Finally he jiggled with the door knob of his room, letting you in first just to whistle as you entered.

“Been hiding that all this time?”

You hit his chest and immediately went in for a kiss, your hands holding into the chest of his shirt clinging to be as close as possible.

Your kiss deepened, somewhere along the way both your clothes had been quickly discarded as an afterthought.

Josh let out an airy moan as you suckled on his neck, his hands wandering over your naked body.

You giggled and kissed him all over his face, wanting nothing more than to live in this moment forever.

~

“Josh…”

You sighed and despite the guys disapproving looks you moved closer to him, sitting down on the cold floor near him.

Josh ignored you, his eyes avoiding your ever knowing stare.

“What we did that night, what we said, I haven’t forgotten it.”

You bit your lip trying to find the words to say to this broken man, your eyes watering as you continued barely above a whisper ,

“That night, I wish it could’ve gone differently. I regret almost everything about it,”

You pause as he stares up with you, his eyes flooding with hurt as he took in your words. All the hatred he had for you was gone, and instead heartbreak.

“I don’t regret what we did, I would never regret you. Don’t think I have. I regret not being there for Hannah and Beth, for keeping you away from them. But I don’t regret what we shared.”

Josh kept quiet, but his expression had changed. It seemed like he didn’t know what to think, his mind continued to play tricks on him, he didn’t dare to speak after that.

You wiped the stray tears as you stood up and looked at the boys,

“Now what?”

You three argued over a plan, trying to figure out who would stay to watch Josh and who would go. Finally the decision falling onto you. You look back at Josh who seems defeated, his eyes devoid of emotion.

“I’ll stay here with him. Go with the others.”

Despite their push back the eventually leave, reassuring you they’d be back for you.

Once they leave it’s just you and Josh left in a pitiful silence, almost missing his screaming from earlier,

“Josh, I’m sorry,”

It had been the first time you had said those words to him, saying sorry would just confirm the worst.

“For everything, you didn’t deserve all of this pain. I don’t know why this happened, why they disappeared. I don’t know why you are hurt so badly, and i’m sorry that I don’t know.”

“It’s not your fault, I know that.”

His words were barely audible, but you understood him clearly. Finally, he looks back up to meet your eyes. His eyes were filled with tears, he was breaking down in front of you.

You desperately wanted to untie him, to hold him, but you knew better than that. He was off his medication, unpredictable, and you didn’t want another thing to go wrong tonight.

As the night continued your mind wandered back, replaying the events of that night.

~

The fire cast a warm light on your bodies, his skin looking like a bronzed gold, his chest rising and falling with every breath. He looked beautiful, just perfect.

“Like what you see?”

You smiled and hummed a yes, planting a kiss on his jaw. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you impossibly close to him, not wanting to let go.

“Y’know, I meant what I said. Wasn’t just being crazy romantic for no reason.”

He confessed with his eyes still closed. You blushed recalling his words earlier, thankful it wasn’t just a drunken mistake.

“I know.”

It was his turn to hum in response, pinching your side making you laugh.

“Not gonna say it back?”

You both knew it, you had been smitten for years. His teasing was just because he yearned to hear those words come from you,

“I love you too, Joshua.”

~

“Every day without a doubt, I remember that night with you,”

Josh’s sudden announcement made your ears perk up, letting your attention turn to him.

“I remember everything about it, your laugh, your voice, your body. I even remember the smell of the tequila that came from you as we ran off together.”

You smile and nodded in agreement, recalling exactly all he was saying.

“It was disgusting, had to keep myself from vomiting during the party.”

For the first time in a long while you heard his hearty laugh, it was different then the one he had been putting up all night. This laugh was all him.

“When we get out of here, we’re gonna help you Josh. I will be there for you.”

Josh nodded as he let the idea creep into his mind, maybe he wasn’t a lost cause? Maybe a future with you would be his saving grace,

~

“No! Where is he!”

You shoved Mike as he dragged you out of the mines, wincing at every contact you made.

“We have to go back, please. Please Mike!”

You screamed as he ignored you, your eyes being coated in a familiar substance.

“I love him! You have to do something!”

Your pleas go unheard, completely ignored as you’re forced out towards the lodge where you are the rest of the group are rescued.

Everyone in a complete shell shocked state, no words spoken.

The paramedics and police eventually seperate you all, taking you into different rooms for questioning.

“Have you found Josh? You have to be looking for him, in the mines.”

“No miss, we have no other confirmed bodies as of now.”

Bodies. They don’t expect to find anymore survivors, do they? Your face drains of any color as you feel the need to vomit out of disbelief.

~

He held you all night long, your bodies molded together in perfect unison. You felt safe in his arms, his body warmth lulled you to see as you listened to the best of his heart.

You had waited for this moment for years, pining over Josh. Little did you know, Josh had fallen in love with you long before you, his affection growing day by day.

It was perfect, the entire night was everything you could ever ask for .

As the morning light crept through the windows a knock at your door with a frantic Chris yelling woke you both out of your slumber, changing the rest of your lives forever.

[reminiscingtonight]

Eras Of Us (Pt. 2)

Alessia Russo x Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Part One

[WOSO Masterlist]

Nothing can break your high. 

Playing in your first London derby, scoring in your first London derby, is a feeling you’re never going to forget. 

Until someone so graciously reminds you of the implications of such a win. 

“Emma Hayes is gonna be my new coach,” you moan.

“Rough,” Alessia snorts, ignoring the way you smack at her arm.

The two of you are out with the rest of the girls, capping off the win against Chelsea with a couple of drinks at a bar near the stadium. Around you are a mix of reds and blues, all of the players good friends despite the outcome of the match. 

Despite starting your night hanging by Leah, the blonde basically mothering you to death since your move overseas, you somehow find yourself tucked into Alessia’s side merely a few minutes later. It makes your heart skip a beat when you feel her fingers absentmindedly playing with the hairs on the back of your neck. 

“It’s not funny! What if she takes me wrecking her club team personally and doesn’t give me a call up to the next camp?”

Alessia gives you a look.

It’s enough to make you feel chastised. You sigh, hanging your head. “Fine, she wouldn’t do that. But she might make me run extra laps as punishment!”

Alessia laughs again, shoving at head when you wack her arm again. “What ever happened to the (Y/N) who would run extra laps for fun?”

You know Alessia’s thinking of you dressed Carolina blue, sprinting up and down the pitch after practice ends, wanting to get in extra reps to keep your fitness up. It’s a fond memory, the player you were when you were younger, but you shudder, thinking of how it was really just a ploy to get Alessia to give you a backrub when you got home, the forward always quick to crumble to your sad eyes and exaggerated whines.

You pout. “She grew up.”

“Poor you,” she teases, pinching at your cheeks. 

You can’t remember the last time you’ve laughed this much. 

You and Alessia have fallen into a good routine since you both joined Arsenal. There was no awkward tension around the two of you, no weird ‘I’m on the same team as my ex’ drama. If anything, there’s more ‘annoying years-in-the-making inside jokes’ shenanigans that you’ve brought with you. It’s almost like no time has passed. 

Once in a while you catch yourself thinking about the what-ifs. What if you never broke up. What if Alessia wanted to give this another shot. But you’re more than happy to live in the now. You and Alessia are friends now. That’s not something you’re willing to give up just for a shot at what you once knew. 

Looking down at her empty cup, Alessia lets out a low groan. You sheepishly hand her your empty cup as well, sweetly asking for a refill. She grumbles under her breath but grabs your drink nonetheless. “Don’t miss me too much!” she hollers over her shoulder as she disappears into the crowd. 

You find yourself staring even long after she’s gone.

With nothing left to distract you, you turn your attention back down to your phone. It’s funny seeing all of the posts on social media by the fans. Giggling to yourself, you like a couple of them before your attention is quickly captured again when you feel a small nudge against your arm. You look up to see Lotte smiling back at you. 

Scooting over, you give her enough space to plop down next to you in the booth. 

“Whatcha been doing hiding away here all night?”

You shrug, easy smile floating to your lips. “Haven’t been hiding. Less and I’ve just been hanging out. Lots of things to catch up on.”

The mention of the blonde striker has Lotte frowning a bit. You watch as she seems to think through her words. “Are you and Less…” she starts cautiously, pausing to gather her thoughts once more. 

“Are me and Less what?” 

The brunette shrugs. “I dunno, back together? Working things out? You guys just… you seem close again.”

It’s your turn to pause. In all honesty you haven’t really been thinking about what you and Alessia have been doing. Yes, you spend a lot of your free time together, and yes, Alessia always seems to seek you out when you all go out with the rest of the team, but that doesn't mean anything, right? 

Right? 

You settle for a half-shrug. “I’m not sure. I think… I think we’re just seeing where things go.”

Lotte nods, the look of unease still on her face. “Just be careful, alright? I’m happy if things work out between you guys but just don’t forget the history the two of you have.”

Lotte’s words stick with you.

Even days later, when Alessia and you are taking a stroll towards a nearby farmer’s market.

You’re not thinking when her hand automatically slips into yours, hands freely swinging between the two of you. Alessia’s telling you a story you’re only half listening to, more caught in your head than the walk in front of you.

Spotting a booth with your favorite flowers, you head towards them. Only to be yanked back by a firm hand. 

Alessia doesn’t let go of your hand.

You pull again. 

You can hear an amused noise but Alessia still doesn’t let you go. 

“Lessi! Let me go see the flowers,” you whine. 

This time when you pull, she lets you go with a chuckle.

They’re beautiful. 

The purples, the blues, the pinks. You run your hands over them, marveling in all of the beauty. 

You must be looking for too long, because your heart lurches when you feel the familiar weight of an arm wrapping around your waist, Alessia’s head dropping to your shoulder. It’s habitual, the way your hand drops to rest on top of hers.

You can feel Alessia smile against the side of your head.

And it hits you then. 

This feels familiar. Too familiar. 

This feels right. Too right.

This feels like everything you’ve been missing. 

“Less?”

The blonde hums, eyes not moving as her fingers continue to trace shapes on your stomach.

You huff. It isn’t until you’re shuffling around, fully facing Alessia that her eyes drop to meet yours. She’s clearly not expecting it, mouth dropped into an ‘o’.

“Hi?”

“Alessia, do you want to date me?”

It’s almost comical, the way her eyes widen, mouth somehow dropping even wider.

When it becomes clear that Alessia is at a loss of words you run a hand down your face, effectively pushing the blonde away from you.

“Look, I get it if you think I’m just imagining things, and I’ll totally understand if you want some space if all of this is just in my head, but I can’t help but feel like these are dates, these little trips around London you’ve been taking me. I haven’t felt this ‘wined and dined’ since the two of us first started dating all those years ago.”

You pause, leaving plenty of time for Alessia to interject.

She doesn’t.

Instead, she swallows. 

You watch as Alessia clenches and unclenches her hands, nervously shuffling from foot to foot.

Neither of you say anything as the seconds pass, ticking into minutes. 

Eventually, with her eyes trained to her feet, “Do you want them to be dates?” Alessia asks quietly. Timidly.

A little too timidly.

And that’s when you realize what this is.

What it’s been about this entire time.

Alessia’s afraid you don’t want her.

“You’re an idiot.”

Fisting a hand into her shirt, you yank Alessia towards you. Her eyes widen just as your lips meet, hands floundering about until they rest on your waist.

When you break away, you make sure to memorize the look on her face. Eyes closed, peaceful lit to her face, it’s something you want to ingrain in your memory and never forget.

When Alessia’s eyes flutter open you give her a soft smile.

“I’m always going to want you,” you murmur, tucking a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. 

You duck down, pressing your face into the crook of her neck as her arms automatically wrap around your back.

“I’d spend a lifetime trying to get over you, just to get to spend a single second as yours.”

You feel more than hear Alessia’s shaky breath in, arms tightening just a fraction around you. 

“I don’t want to ever get over you.” Your heart skips a beat at her confession. Her words are paired with a kiss on your hairline, signaling what you know is the end of this limbo, the beginning of your story starting anew.

No, things didn’t work out the first time.

But you aren’t stranded on opposite coasts this time. You aren’t leaving Alessia to start your professional career elsewhere. Alessia isn’t leaving you to go back home. 

You’re both in England. You’re both on the same team. 

Maybe this time things will work out. 

Because you love Alessia and she loves you. And that’s all you really need to know.

[jals-stuff]

hi girlie!! i see that your requests are open... can i pls request hurt+comfort on orter with a flirty girl reader pretty please??? the lack of orter fics is crazy T_T

(guess who btw :3)

why hello there, dear. I'll guess you are m***i, and I agree, there aren't enough works on him.

Anyway, here's a poorly, quickly written one. It is supposedly proofread but it's 5am and I am very eepy!

Just a flirt!

Word count: 2.6k

Warnings: none!

“Took you long enough.” 

You blinked a few times as he looked up from his paperwork, and mostly at the report you were holding. You had spent longer than necessary on this paper you’d received from Renatus, correcting rewriting the entire thing as it was just full of mistakes and this jerk was too lazy to give you anything that was decent.

“What, did you miss me that much?” You raised your eyebrows with a slight smile as you chuckled to yourself. Oh yeah, that was funny. Orter didn’t seem to find it amusing, as his expression didn’t really change at all. You made your way to his desk and sat on the chair facing it, handing him Renatus’ report.

He decided not to dwell on that stupid remark of yours and started reading the paper, taking notes on the side and making sure nothing is missing. Meanwhile, you were staring carefully studying his expression, and every single small nod he gave while reading.

“Renatus isn't usually this thorough with reports. Colour me surprised.” He blankly said and slid the report inside one of his drawers. You raised an eyebrow and looked at him with a proud grin. “Renatus gave me a piece of scrap, so I rewrote it entirely using the information he gave me.” you stated, crossing your arms as you looked at him, visibly waiting for some praise.

He stared blankly for a second and sighed, adjusting his glasses. “Well done, (Y/N). Very good work.” Though he was praising you, his expression didn't change that much and you could just feel how exhausting it was for him to give compliments.

“Mm, mm. That's right. I’m always good with my work when I know you'll review it…” You trailed off, looking at him with a satisfied smile and a small wink. He raised both eyebrows at your obvious flirting and chose not to comment on it, but you weren't done anyway.

“Anyway, I think I deserve more than just a little compliment! I rewrote the entire thing, you know?” You playfully pouted, putting on a dramatically sad, puppy eyes expression for him. Orter pinched the bridge of his nose with a deep sigh; he knew you wouldn't back down anyway.

“That was amazing work, (Y/N). Rarely have I ever seen a report written with such incredible finesse and precision.” He said blankly again, and it was clear he didn't mean it that much, although there was a part of truth in his words that he refused to admit, even to himself.

“Thank you, thank you.” You chuckled, knowing very well that he was exaggerating, but seeing as he played along, you decided to push your luck a little. “So what, am I getting a reward for all this hard work?”

Even if his expression didn't change, you could read him like he was an open book. “Was the praise not enough?” was probably what he thought at this point. You could've stopped there and brushed it off as a joke but your ego had been flattered just enough to make you bolder.

“How ‘bout… a little kiss? Just on the cheek! Like mwwwah!” you mimicked a kiss while pointing at your cheek and were absolutely convinced that your imitation was flawless. Of course, you were partially joking, and assumed he would just sigh and dismiss your comment, but no such luck.

“I have better things to do than to entertain your delusional little fantasies.” He simply spoke and grabbed his pen again to fill out some of his paperwork. Ouch. But that was his whole personality anyway, of course he wouldn't give you a little kiss, you already knew that, but hearing him say it this way tugged just a tiny bit at your heartstrings.

“No fun.” You sighed and crossed your arms on top of his desk before nesting your chin in-between them. “I am being highly underappreciated here.” You whined dramatically, and then regained your usual smug expression. “That's okay though, you're still my favourite.”

You could tell you were slowly but surely getting on his nerves, and it was kind of amusing to see him have to close his eyes and take a deep breath before focusing on his tasks again. He was already being very patient by allowing you to laze around in his office when you had free time, but he was gradually starting to regret this decision.

You were already done with your work for today, and sat in Orter’s office simply to enjoy his company. He knew, and for some reason he tolerated your presence as long as you didn't disturb him too much. 

Was any of your flirting serious? Of course it was. You genuinely liked him! You had been blessed with a sweet voice and a pretty face, and most of your colleagues at the Bureau would've dreamt of being in his place right now. He was very much aware of that, but it seemed off to him.

Even though your coworkers kept flirting around with you and quite literally trying to slide in your pants, you had denied every single one of them. From nameless staff members to the Flame Cane, none of them had your attention except Orter, and all of your flirting surely showed it… or so you thought. Things were awfully different in his mind.

Now, you were just looking at him and his paperwork, fiddling with some trinkets on his desk. Being in the same room as him was almost enough for you, but you kept feeling this physical need to flirt with him, to demonstrate how much you liked him, and you would've thought he had a clue, as you kept making it painfully obvious.

His eyes travelled to your hands as he put one of his papers down. “Stop it.” He ordered, and you immediately let go of the trinket you were toying with in a deep sigh now.

“But I’m bored.” You mumbled, and he put down his pen, his hands now joined on top of his desk. He looked at you for a bit, your almost childish behaviour was starting to irritate him slightly.

“Then leave.” He raised his head slightly as he took off his glasses to wipe them. “Nobody asked you to sit here and disturb my work with your… immature antics.” Ouch, another one, but at this point, you were used to his spiky remarks and simply shrugged it off.

“Aww, but I'll miss you if I leave, you know~?” Again with the puppy eyes, making your expression unnecessarily dramatic again even though you meant every single word you said; but saying it in a completely blank tone would embarrass you way too much. “And I know you'll miss me too, hehe.” You playfully added.

He put his glasses back on and gave you a very stern look and raised an eyebrow very slightly. “Surely, there are other victims that await your attention somewhere else. Why not pay them a visit instead of constantly disrupting my focus?”

He sure was in a foul mood today, wasn't he? But his comment felt like a sharp blade into your stomach and you just needed an explanation for it. “What is that supposed to mean?” Your flirtatious demeanour was temporarily suspended as you weren't quite sure what you'd just heard.

“Are you already done seducing your other colleagues? Must I suffer your incessant flirtations in their place now?” He asked again, and it didn't sound like he was being sarcastic at all, but at least you now knew.

“Orter… are you jealous?” You asked, and your tone was dead serious. It was inimaginable that he could ever feel jealous about something so petty— something you hadn't even done in the first place.

He took a deep breath. “Nonsense. This is wishful thinking; I am merely aggravated by your attempts to turn me into one of these loyal… dogs you have around at the Bureau.” he scoffed, and you could tell he was not pleased with your behaviour.

“...what?” was all you could utter, as you looked at him in disbelief. “You don't know how wrong you are about this, clearly.” You didn't want to be rude to him even though he really deserved it right now, but you seemed to be testing each other's patience.

“How wrong could I be? These people are head over heels for you. Surely, this doesn't happen without a push.” He firmly stated, and again, he was wrong. “Whatever have I done for you to think I’ll be one of them?”

You had always hated arguments, but having one with Orter was the worst that had happened in a while. He was fully convinced that you were but a flirt, a temptress that relished in having people crawl at her feet… but that wasn't it, and these people weren't exactly crawling either.

“How can you say such a thing?” You looked at him in heavy disappointment. “How could you think such a thing, after all of… this?” After all of the obvious flirting you gave him, the endless remarks about how you miss him when he isn't around or your constant winking.

He was just staring in religious silence, thinking you'd give up and simply admit your faults so he could go back to work without any disturbance, but he was once again very wrong, and you needed to justify yourself. 

“Why would I flirt with anyone other than you at the Bureau?” you asked, standing up from your chair and placing both hands on the desk in front of him, and he simply adjusted his glasses on his nose.

“Because that's who you are, it would seem.”

You sat back in defeat, looking at him, completely dumbfounded. Every word you wanted to say ended up getting swallowed in the whirlpool of emotions you were feeling, and you couldn't do anything else than stare at him. You could physically feel your heartstrings being pulled now and it was disturbingly painful.

“Is…” you swallowed your emotions down before trying again. “Is that really what you think? That I'm just the type of girl to flirt around and just… sleep well afterwards?” Your tone made it obvious that you were hurt, and it didn't go unnoticed. 

But he was convinced. Convinced that your flirting was not a rare occurrence, that it extended beyond the limits of his office, that surely you had already done it before and he was probably just one of those targets you'd use to boost your self-esteem. Even though he was upset with you, his goal wasn't to hurt you, and he decided to avoid your question, not knowing what to answer anyway.

“I don't even know why you're trying to justify yourself that hard.” He finally sighed and grabbed his pen again, which was his way of telling you that this conversation was over and you had to leave; but you wouldn't let go just yet, not before you had said your piece. 

“Because it's you we're talking about.” You blurted out, once again flabbergasted by how dense a man could be. “How straightforward do I have to be for you to understand? Have I not been vigorously flirting with you?” You asked loudly, almost laughing nervously.

“You sure have, but—”

“Have I not made it crystal clear that I am into you? That I want to spend time with you?” Oh, you had no will to listen to his flawed reasoning and you just couldn't take it anymore. You were trying your best not to tear up in front of him already, and any more of his baseless accusations surely would make a sufficient push to make you cry.

“I never said you didn't d—”

“Then why are you so blind to my feelings?” You interrupted again, but this time way calmer. You sat back, weakly plopping down on your chair and staring down at his desk for no apparent reason. He didn't really say anything. In fact, he was processing the information you had just given him.

You felt terribly awkward after your half confession, and that clumsy part of your personality couldn't take the silence anymore. “How can someone that dense be in charge of the Magical Power administration..?” 

Were you jesting? Probably. But what else could you do anyway? Your main goal was to keep your composure and hold your tears back, at least until you were out of his line of sight. His eyes were on you, they had been the whole time, but you couldn't muster the courage to look at him anymore.

“May I speak now?” He asked, first of all wanting to make sure you wouldn't interrupt him anymore, and only now did it occur to you, how rude you had been these last few minutes. You gave a nod and he sighed deeply, joining his hands against his desk and looking at you with a bit of a softer expression.

“I never said you haven't been straightforward.” He started, and now that you were a bit calmer than before, you could feel your shame grow at his words. “I never said you didn't do all these things you talked about so… fervently. I am merely saying that I do not believe you are exclusively trying to seduce me.”

You sighed again, and he braced himself for another rant but instead of justifying yourself again, you ran a hand through your hair and took a deep breath. Looking all sad and defeated wasn't like you at all, and you needed to prove yourself to this dense, silly, overworked man.

“I don’t get it. Why does the fact that I supposedly am flirting with other people bother you?” You decided to ask, your arms crossed over your chest as you were now back to studying his expression and tone. If you were going to cry, so be it, but you wouldn't go down without a fight, especially for him.

He takes a minute to think, narrowing his eyes slightly. “What bothers me is the way you act with those people, and how you pretend to be innocent afterwards.” You gave him a confused look and he decided to develop. “The way you politely smile at them and make small talk. You're almost inviting them.” He said that while keeping his straight face and cold glare, completely serious.

Oh. Oh. 

“So you are jealous.” You couldn't help but smile a little and finally look up at him, only to be met by an utterly confused Orter, ready to absolutely deny your claim.

“I am not jealous, (Y/N).”

“What if I stopped talking to all of them then, would it make things a little better?” You offered, suppressing a smile and pretending to act serious. He seemed to think for another minute again and leaned back into his chair.

“Yes, I believe it would.”

Ah, you couldn’t take it anymore and just burst out laughing; he didn’t seem to like it very much but it was impossible to resist. You just had to make sure again, and so, you slowly regained your composure and caught your breath, then exhaled deeply. “So, let me get this straight…” you started, and he listened. “What upsets you is the fact that I am supposedly flirting with other people, and if I didn’t smile at them or made small talk, you wouldn’t mind my flirting?”

You did not miss that sigh of relief. He adjusted his glasses again and crossed his legs, looking at you very seriously. “I am glad to know that you have ears.” He said blankly, his expression still so cold as his eyes landed on yours again. “Are you making fun of me now?” His voice sounded slightly irritated and you had to calm yourself down again.

“No, not at all. But you just admitted to being jealous so… I win.” You could feel all of your earlier worries dissipating. He wasn't denying it either, instead looking like he was thinking about your reasoning; you had him cornered now. 

And the best part about all of this is that he has no clue what he just signed up for.

[steddieas-shegoes]

hello again! here's an angsty little steddie thought for you, because I'm sad and i am putting my guys in angsty situations in my head to make me more sad because the brain is funny like that: Steve decides to swing by to visit Eddie after his shift. They've been hanging out a lot more lately,with Robin off to college and the kids preoccupied with school. It's something he looks forward to. He's been spending the day thinking bout the things Eddie says when it's just them. The way he tells Steve that people underestimate him, especially his intelligence. The jokes they share, the soft gazes over a blunt on the front porch. The best part of Steve's day. Truly the best part of his life, nowadays. Especially the soft moments they have together, where Eddie kisses his hairline with a hand resting on Steve's thigh. It's happened a few times but it never turns into a full fledged kiss, but he KNOWS it'll happen soon. He's about to knock on the trailer door when he hears Eddie chatting with his band mates, which is a surprise because band practice is on thursdays not wednesdays,but that's okay maybe he can get to know them a little bit-. "What are you even talking about, Eddie? you're practically drooling over Harrington every time he walks by" His hand freezes mid air and he blushes to himself. "Harrington? nah he is NOT my type." And that? oh. that's...not ideal. But, maybe he can switch up his style a little bit? He knows Eddie isn't the type to wear polos, that's. That's alright. "No way you're SUCH a liar!" "I'm not lying!" Maybe he's just trying to hide his crush?(Images flash in his mind of Eddie's hand creeping up his thigh, and his breath on his neck,before blushing and turning away. Placing his hands back onto his own lap. A soft smile and a blush high on his cheeks.) Maybe he's- "Okay shut up, I'll admit he's easy on the eyes. But dudes only got like two brain cells to rub together." Huh? But he told him monday that- ("You're so smart Stevie, they don't give you enough credit.") "I thought you hung out with him a bunch lately?" "Yeah,it beats watching wheel of fortune. It's funny to listen to what the king has to say, it's like talking to a door stopper." ("You always have something interesting to say.") The echoing laughter rushes through Steve's ears,grips his heart like a vice, before settling like a brick in his stomach. "Nothing behind those eyes!" (I always used to think your eyes were brown, Stevie. But there's green, and red!) Right. That's, that's. Hmm. That's. Go home. It's time to go home. "What was that?" Run back to the car. "Stevie?"Don't say anything. Get your keys get out TWOBRAINCELLS get OUT OF HERE YOU MORON. "Hey wait don't leave, did you uh overhear, of course you heard. God Steve I didn't mean it,I swear. i was just talking a big- I'm so sor-"Don'tlisten.Don'tcryyouidiot.STARTTHECARGETOUTOFHERE.ofcoursenot!ofcoursehedoesntwantyou!ofcoursehedidntthinkyouweresmart.stopcryinggohomegohomehedoesntwantyouherehedoesntwantyouatall.stopcrying.dryyour eyes(NOTHINGBEHINDTHOSEYES). just stop. Get out of here.

Hey

I’m holding your hand when I say this

how dare you (affectionate)

this broke my heart into 726251527382 pieces

in my head, Eddie follows him and begs for forgiveness and Steve makes him work for it because he’s not gonna let anyone in his life who won’t be all in even if it’s just as friends

Eddie does work for it. Harder than he worked to do anything else

he knows he fucked up so bad and just got carried away trying to get his bandmates off his back. he really genuinely didn’t believe anything he said but now he knows Steve thinks he did and he shouldn’t have even said it as a joke or exaggeration regardless of if Steve would hear or not

He even shows up the morning of Robin’s going away party to help run errands for Steve and set up in the rain that wasn’t in the forecast. Steve finds him crying on the back patio over one of the decorations that got ruined by the rain, and he apologizes a million times “I know it’s not enough it’ll never be enough but you have to know I wouldn’t do it on purpose I didn’t know there was rain coming and I would’ve kept it all inside” and then Steve is holding him and telling him it’s okay, all of it is okay

I can’t keep them sad for long it’s my most ridiculous trait

[tonydaddingham]

I’ve been having this doubt ever since season 2 came out (I should probably solve it by doing a tumblr poll but I don’t have enough followers for the answers to be significant so I thought I would just ask).

So to the point now: did people actually cry about the ending? (talking abt good omens here ofc). I’ve seen so many posts, both from around those days and still now, where everyone says how it made them cry/sob/just sad in general, and I’m too autistic to understand if they mean it literally or not.

Personally I haven’t cried but then I’ve never been a very sensitive person so I’m not a fair judge. I can understand how the ending is heartbreaking (believe me, as a queer person brought up in catholicism, the story really resonates with me) but I don’t feel the sadness myself.

That being said, I would love to know if this is truly different for other people, if it actually made them emotional in the way they mention in their posts or if it’s more of a common used exaggeration.

oh anon my love idk if im a big enough blog to get any kind of decent reach but i'll give it a go, i'd be interested to know too!!!

i know ive exaggerated my reaction on here (iirc i didn't cry at the confession/kiss/leaving for heaven parts - but definitely felt a huge Sad about it... plus frustration, incredulity, anger etc), but i have absolutely cried when writing meta about it, or daydreaming how they'd talk it out in s3 (these characters are healing something in me lmao)

rb for sample size etc etc

[caesarhamato22]

I’m not sure if this is a fact or not, but I read on tiktok that apparently your brain shows you seven minutes of your life when you’re dying and those seven minutes are supposed to be the best parts of your life.

So I thought of what if Rocket sent this to you as a text message, thinking it would be sweet, but he didn’t really take in the “dying” part of it 😭

-

Rocket: “Apparently when you die, your brain shows you 7 minutes of the best moments of your life. You would be my 7 minutes.”

And about 15 minutes later, he got a face call from you and he picked up and you were sobbing. “What is wrong with you? Why would you say something like that?” Obviously crying because it was so sweet yet so sad.

Rocket laughed a bit, “it was supposed to be nice!”

You replied, crying harder, “it was nice, you fuck! Very nice! Now look what you did!”

“I didn’t mean to make you cry! I wanted to be sweet.”

“By talking about you dying?!”

“I don’t know! Just in case—“

“In case of what? Because if you think—“

“Nothing, nothing, I’m exaggerating!”

“If you think you’re not coming back here, Rocket…”

“Listen, the only reason I wouldn’t come back on time would be because I was getting you flowers on the way home. I ain’t leaving, baby. Okay?”

-

Thank you tiktok for this beautiful yet heartwrenching idea :)

[feralgodmothers]

I think I cracked it you guys. A part of why Elvis (2022) has such a hold on me (and why you should watch it too if you haven’t already).

The first time I watched it, I didn’t really have any expectations - I wasn’t a fan of Elvis, because my mother hated him, and I grew up without any real exposure to him or his music. I also wasn’t a fan of Baz Luhrmann, because I found his directing style to be too over-the-top, chaotic, and truthfully - obnoxious. So neither of those two big names attached to it were a draw-in for me. And on top of that, I didn’t know Tom Hanks was in it, and I didn’t know who Austin Butler was - not to mention there’s been an abundance of music biopics lately. The only thing that captured my attention was how accurately the trailer portrayed the fangirl spirit. I was like ‘Yeah, that’s exactly what it’s like. I can relate to that’, lol. So with that being the only thing that held my interest, I put it on and just shrugged and thought ‘Who knows, this might be fun’.

I was completely blown away.

I had seen a few clips of Elvis prior to this at some point in my life, so I had just enough reference in my memory to go on while I watched Austin do his thing, and he nailed it. It took no time at all for you to feel like you were actually watching Elvis Presley, not just some guy playing him. Austin Butler was flawless - he’s received a tremendous amount of praise for his performance, and quite frankly - I don’t think there could ever be enough praise for what he was able to accomplish here. It is one of the best performances of all time, and that is no exaggeration. It was so exciting - the amount of movie magic (that’s been sorely lacking from films lately) was on full display here, and it gave me new life. I felt a real connection to a completely different era in our history, a connection to a whole other generation of people/fans, and to a music legend that I knew almost nothing about, and who pop culture had twisted into some mythical caricature of himself. This film accomplishes so much, and I was caught up in a whirlwind of something truly eye-opening and magical. The main takeaway I had from my first time viewing was pure excitement and adrenaline, from just being transported somewhere else entirely, both emotionally and spiritually, and from unlearning some misconceptions I had about Elvis Presley. And, as a bonus, I now had a new celebrity crush in Austin Butler (and we all know - stumbling across someone new to thirst over will always be a profound part of the fangirl experience, lol).

The second time I watched it, I was going in still riding that high that I felt - and I was ready to immerse myself into full, thirsty fangirl mode. And obviously I did thirst - but by the end of the film, I was so incredibly emotional. I cried so much, and felt so sad. Of course, I felt sad by the end the first time I watched it too - Elvis died tragically early, and the way the movie highlighted his final performance was so effectively heartbreaking and moving. But I think the more positive feelings I had experienced before had prevented me from sinking too low into my feelings. But by that second viewing, man… the dam just broke, and I was legitimately mourning this man. I’m not kidding when I say this is probably the best biopic I’ve ever seen, and possibly one of the best movies period that I’ve ever seen. I cannot express strongly enough how much it truly resonates with me.

Anyway, my whole point in saying that I cracked it, I say as a fangirl through-and-through - I think the two biggest impacts that can ignite a fangirl’s spirit into a full, dazzling and glorious blaze is: thirst and heartbreak. And this movie provided both of those things in spades. It’s so beautiful to watch - Austin’s beautiful, the storytelling is beautiful, the cinematography is beautiful, the care, dedication, and craft is beautiful. To me, it is absolutely perfect, and it has completely taken over my mind, heart, and soul. I cannot recommend this film highly enough. It is everything to me right now, and the more people who are willing to give it a chance and enjoy it, the better.

[indie-summer]

The Cycling RPF Rec List

for @wtfanworkclassification

(tagging the blogs of the authors I know!!)

1. Favorite smut: a vocabulary, expanding by @strigimorphaes

It’s almost unfair that I made myself choose only one for each category, but yes, if I must, this is The One Smut for me. To put it mildly, it makes me weak in the knees every time I read it. It must have been like five times by now. To be read with the AC on and a glass of water by your side. Gotta love p*rn with feelings.

2. Favorite multi chapter: Faking It by @goingslightlymads

Am I biased when talking about this fic? Yes, because it was one of my Secret Santa gifts. Do I think I am unfair? Nope, not at all! I’ve never had any other experience in Cycling RPF like when I read (scratch that, binged) this one: it made me laugh and cry and it had my heart racing and had me hugging pillows at 3am. What a ride.

3. Favorite Sci-fi AU: jonas vingegaard goes back to the sea by @bakurasilver

Beautiful and clever. A reflection on the meaning of life and love, undercover as sci-fi. Bawled my eyes out with this one.

4. Favorite Fantasy AU: Fierce Creatures by @inbetweenpages

Great world building, incredibly fun and hot. Come here for wouthieu and stay for mathsper friendship, a very mysterious vampire!Jonas and a sentient house.

5. Favorite fluff: Worth it by @ridingupsaturn

Melancholic fluff. My favorite kind of fluff. Read it about ten times and had my heart fluttering through all of them. Love is kind of awesome, isn’t it?

6. Favorite angst: Drought by booming_business (part 2 of the A Study in Water series)

Shoutout to sad carpenter!Jonas who made a complete wreck out of me. The entire series is excellent, but this fic in particular is a masterpiece on its own! Also foundational exes!tadejonas fic before it was even a thing. Groundbreaking!!

7. Favorite drabble: doing what heroes do by @etapereine

I have two favorite types of drabbles: the one in which you feel like you read an entire story in just 100 words and the one that immediately makes you feel in absolute need of a 50k story as a follow-up because of all the possibilities it introduces you to. This one is definitely the second kind. I really need a full Percy Jackson AU long fic on my desk in, like, a week ago. Olympian demigods at the Olympics maybe??? Someone please???

8. Favorite crack/comedy: The 2024 Paris-Roubaix mass heat incident by Anonymous

Top 5 funniest shit I’ve ever read in my life and I’m not even exaggerating.

9. Favorite non-cyclists AU: all hearts in love use their own tongues by @thedeadparrot

I’m sorry, I’m not really a well-studied person when it comes to English literature. This is the only way I could ever read Shakespeare. I regret nothing.

10. Favorite remix/fix-it: Unbelievable, or only in Gotham by Lili_Writes_Banhof

Yes I’m parcial yes of course I am biased because it’s fixing one of my fics, but I don’t care. It’s cute, it’s fun, it’s fluffy (like all the awesome works from this author), you should all immediately go read it!

11. Favorite Soulmate AU: All your life by @interdisciplinary-disaster

I never once had given any thoughts about geese before this fic. Also this is the only cycling fic where the main character is not one of the cyclists, but an adorably exhausted old goose (at least the way I see it, because frankly, what a scene stealer). It changed my core!!

12. Favorite rarepair: Jonas is the boss by @mundanememory

Because ok, now everyone loves Jonas/Matteo but back in April it was a rarepair!! And this fic is awesome and hot and clever and features little big boss being… erm, well treated by a lovable giant ginger, so it deserves a million recs!

[hwa-stars]

Healing heart

Genre: fluff, mentions of low selfstem or loneliness.

Pairing: idol Jung Wooyoung x fem named reader

Summary: We all have days when we don't want to go on, but we always have someone who is there to help us.

Word count: 2.4k

Minseo sat by the window, the city lights shimmering against the backdrop of a quiet night.

It had been one of those days—heavy, emotionally draining, and filled with the echoes of self-doubt that crept in at the worst moments. She sighed, absently scrolling through her phone, trying to distract herself.

"Hey babe!" Wooyoung's voice came from the doorway, snapping her out of her thoughts. He entered the room with that bright, infectious smile that never failed to lift her spirits, no matter how down she felt.

"Hey" She replied softly, managing a small smile as he sat beside her.

Wooyoung’s presence alone brought warmth, but tonight, it felt like a gentle balm on an old wound.

He studied her for a moment, then his expression softened, understanding flickering in his eyes.

"Bad day?" She only nodded.

"Just... one of those days where I feel like I'm not worth it, you know?" Wooyoung leaned closer, gently taking her hand in his. His thumb brushed over her knuckles, his touch tender and grounding.

"I know the feeling, but let me tell you one thing: you are enough. More than enough, actually."

Minseo looked down, her heart heavy with the weight of past experiences and the way she sometimes let those voices inside her head take over, but Wooyoung had always been different.

Since they had started dating, he had this way of making her feel like the most precious thing in the world. He wasn’t just her boyfriend, he was the bandage that covered the scars she had tried to heal on her own for so long.

"You don’t have to be perfect all the time, babe." Wooyoung said, his voice steady but full of emotion. "You’re allowed to have bad days, to feel overwhelmed. But I need you to know that you deserve the love you give. You’re worth it. Every part of you."

She blinked, feeling the tears welling up, but they were different this time. They weren’t for sadness but of the overwhelming love and reassurance that Wooyoung gave her. He always knew what to say, and more than that, he always showed her how much he cared—every single day.

"How are you always so sure?" She asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Wooyoung cupped her cheek with his hand, his thumb gently wiping away a tear that had escaped.

"Because I know you. And I love every piece of you—the parts you show the world and the parts you keep hidden." He pulled her closer, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. "You don’t have to pretend with me. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted, and I’m going to keep reminding you of that until you believe it too."

Minseo rested her head against his shoulder, letting the warmth of his words sink in.

"You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me." She whispered against his chest and Wooyoung chuckled softly.

"That's funny, I was going to say the same thing about you."

She stayed in the warmth of her boyfriend embrace, her heart finally finding some peace. The world outside continued to move, but in his arms, it felt like time had slowed down just for them.

“I don’t know how you do it." She murmured, her fingers tracing small patterns on his chest. “You make everything feel less… heavy. It’s like you know how to take the pieces of me that feel broken and put them back together.” Wooyoung’s lips quirked into a small, playful smile.

“That’s because you’re not broken, Min. You’ve just been carrying things alone for too long. I’m here now, so let me carry some of it for you.” He rested his forehead against hers, his eyes never leaving hers.

"I know, I really try so hard and I'm really grateful with you."

“You know.” He began, his tone soft but teasing. “I fell for you the moment I saw you, even before you knew I existed.” Minseo chuckled, shaking her head.

“Stop it. You’re exaggerating.”

“I’m not." Wooyoung protested, laughing with her. “I’m serious! You walked in that cafeteria, and I thought, ‘That’s the girl I’m going to spend the rest of my life with.’ You had this light around you. Everyone could see it, but you… you’re the only one who doesn’t see how amazing you are.”

Wooyoung had always been like this—so sure of his feelings for her, never wavering. It still amazed her how he could see the parts of herself that she struggled to accept, and how he made her believe that she was enough, just as she was.

“Thank you." She whispered, her voice barely audible. “For loving me the way you do and for being my safe space.”

Wooyoung’s smile softened, and he brushed a strand of hair behind her ear.

“You never have to thank me for that. I love you, Minseo. And I’ll keep loving you, every day, even on the days when you feel like you don’t deserve it. Because you do. You always have.”

Minseo felt the warmth of his words settle into her heart. She leaned in, pressing her lips against his in a kiss that said more than words ever could—a kiss that told him how much she appreciated him, how much she loved him for being the person who never let her forget her worth.

When they pulled apart, Wooyoung grinned, his playful nature returning.

“Now, what do you say we order some pizza, put on a movie, and just forget about the world for a while?” Minseo laughed, the sound light and free.

“That sounds perfect.”

Later that nigth

Later that night, Minseo and Wooyoung drifted off to sleep, nestled against each other under the warmth of their blankets. The peaceful quiet of the night wrapped around them like a protective shield, but even in her dreams, the weight of the day’s emotions lingered in the back of Minseo’s mind.

Hours passed since Minseo and Wooyoungdriftedoff to skeep, nestled against each other and suddenly, in the early hours of the morning, Minseo’s eyes fluttered open.

A heavy feeling sat in her chest, familiar but unwelcome.

She glanced over at Wooyoung, who was still fast asleep beside her, his breathing steady and calm. Not wanting to disturb him, she quietly slipped out of bed, the comfort of his warmth leaving her almost immediately.

Her feet found their way to the kitchen, where she flicked on the soft light, letting it cast a warm glow over the counters.

Cooking had always been her way of dealing with the overwhelming feelings she couldn’t quite express. It grounded her, gave her something tangible to focus on.

Tonight, it was cheesecake—her go-to comfort recipe. The simple act of measuring ingredients, mixing them together, and watching something beautiful come together helped her find some sense of calm.

As she worked, the quiet hum of the fridge was the only sound in the room. She poured the creamy batter into the pan, her movements methodical, almost meditative. The kitchen smelled of sweet vanilla and cream, and for a moment, it felt like the world had slowed down just enough for her to catch her breath.

But in their room Wooyoung stirred in his sleep when he noticed the absence of his girlfriend. His hand reached out instinctively to her side of the bed, only to find it empty.

Frowning, he blinked his eyes open and, after realizing she wasn’t there, he quietly padded out of the room, following the faint light coming from the kitchen.

There she was—standing at the counter, completely absorbed in her baking. He paused in the doorway, his heart swelling with concern, he knew that when she felt overwhelmed, she turned to cooking, it was how she found her peace.

Without making a sound, Wooyoung approached her from behind, slipping his arms around her waist gently.

Minseo jumped slightly at the unexpected touch, but then immediately relaxed into his familiar embrace.

“You couldn’t sleep?” He asked softly, his breath warm against her neck as he pressed a kiss to her shoulder.

She shook her head, resting her hands over his where they circled her waist. “I just… needed to do something. Clear my head.”

Wooyoung tightened his hold on her, swaying them gently from side to side. “You always bake when you’re overwhelmed." He said knowingly, his voice soft but full of understanding. “Do you want to talk about it now?”

Minseo exhaled, leaning back against him as the weight of his support made her feel just a little lighter.

“I don’t know." She whispered. “It’s not anything specific… just everything.” Wooyoung nodded, pressing his cheek against her head.

“I get that. But you know you don’t have to carry it alone, right? I’m here, always.”

His words wrapped around her like a warm blanket, and for a moment, they just stood there in the soft glow of the kitchen, holding each other.

The cheesecake sat unfinished on the counter, but it didn’t matter anymore. What mattered was this quiet moment together.

“Thank you Woo." Minseo whispered after a while, her voice thick with emotion. “For always knowing what I need, even when I don’t.”Wooyoung smiled against her skin.

“That’s what boyfriends are for, right?” She chuckled softly, turning around in his arms to face him. “You’re more than just a boyfriend. You’re everything I didn’t know I needed.” His eyes softened, and he cupped her face in his hands.

“I’m just glad I get to be that for you.”

Wooyoung leaned down, closing the small distance between them, and gently pressed his lips to hers.

The kiss was soft and tender, filled with all the reassurance and love he had been offering her since the moment they met. Minseo melted into it, her hands resting against his chest as she kissed him back.

When they finally pulled apart, Wooyoung gave her a playful smile, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

“Now.” He said, his voice teasing. “How about we finish that cheesecake? You can’t leave it halfway, can you?” Minseo laughed softly, shaking her head.

"You’re right. It’s almost done anyway.”

Together, they moved back to the counter, and with Wooyoung by her side.

Once the cheesecake was safely baking, they cleaned up the kitchen, working in perfect sync.

Wooyoung washed the dishes while Minseo dried them, and they shared light conversation, laughing about little things as if they hadn’t just shared a deeply vulnerable moment.

Finally, when the cheesecake was golden and ready, they pulled it out of the oven and let it cool just enough before cutting into it.

Wooyoung grabbed two plates, and they sat down at the small kitchen table, the warm smell of cheesecake filling the room.

Minseo took a bite first, closing her eyes as the familiar taste brought her the comfort she’d been seeking all night.

“It’s perfect." She said, smiling at Wooyoung.

“Of course it is. You made it.”

Minseo looked at him, feeling an overwhelming sense of gratitude for having him in her life.

“I love you." She said softly that make Wooyoung smile.

“I love you too, Min.”

As they sat together, lost in their quiet moment of cheesecake and whispered words, the soft shuffle of footsteps broke the stillness.

Wooyoung looked up just in time to see Hongjoong and Jongho stumbling into the kitchen, their faces scrunched with irritation and exhaustion.

Hongjoong rubbed his eyes and groaned, clearly not thrilled to be awake at 3 AM.

“Seriously? It’s the middle of the night, and you two are just… sitting here, eating cheesecake?”

“Some of us were actually trying to sleep, you know.” Jongho leaned against the doorway, his arms crossed, giving them both a grumpy look

Minseo felt a pang of guilt, knowing they had probably woken them up with the smell of baking and their quiet laughter.

But before she could say anything, Hongjoong’s expression softened. He walked over, eyeing the cheesecake on the table, then looked at Minseo with a knowing smile.

“We know what baking at these hours means for you.” He said gently, his annoyance fading. “If a cheesecake is what helps you feel better, then we’re in.” Jongho, still half-asleep nodded.

“Yeah, Min. You can’t just leave us out of this.”

Minseo’s heart warmed at their words. She had always felt supported by the members, and even now, when they could have been upset, they were still making an effort to show they cared.

She glanced at Wooyoung, who gave her a small, reassuring smile, his eyes filled with gratitude for the way his bandmates always looked out for her too.

Without another word, Hongjoong grabbed a fork, pulled out a chair, and sat down beside them, slicing himself a piece of cheesecake.

“This is really good." He commented, taking a bite. “Too good not to share. I’m posting this on Instagram.”

Minseo let out a soft laugh, shaking her head as Hongjoong pulled out his phone, snapping a picture of the cheesecake.

“Of course you are.” She said, amusement in her voice.

Meanwhile, Jongho slid into the seat across from her and Wooyoung, already typing something on his phone. A mischievous grin spread across his face as he sent a message to their group chat.

Jongho: Guess what? We’re eating cheesecake, and the rest of you aren’t. Bet you’re jealous 😛😎

San: 😭😭😭😭

Mingi: Not fair! I'm coming in the morning to have cheescake for breakfast 😒

Yeosang: 👎🏻👎🏻👎🏻 Not fair...

She laughed at the teasing messages, feeling the warmth of her friends’ affection wrap around her like a blanket.

Wooyoung sat back, watching Minseo’s mood lift with each passing moment. His heart swelled with gratitude as he looked around at Hongjoong and Jongho, the friends who were more like family.

“Thank you." Wooyoung said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper as he glanced at Hongjoong and Jongho.

Hongjoong just smirked. “You don’t have to thank us. We’ve got her back, just like you do.”

Jongho, still focused on his phone, muttered with a grin, “Yeah, we’re family, right? Besides, it’s not every day we get homemade cheesecake at three in the morning.”

As the four of them sat there together, sharing laughter, inside jokes, and cheesecake, Minseo realized just how lucky she was.

[damonjuicyscock]

Playlist-Chapter 15: Stand by me (90s Noel Gallagher X reader)

Pairing: 90s Noel Gallagher X Reader

Warnings: Sad, very sad. Angst, fluff, mentions of pregnancy loss, and death of a loved one, smut (unprotected P in V)

Words: 5211 (I got carried away this time XD)

Summary: After their son's death, Y/N and Noel's couple isn't doing fine. It's tearing them apart, there's only one way to heal.

A/N: Heya Y'all ! Here's chapter 15, I hope you'll like it, as per usual. As I said, it's another important chapter, dealing with pregnancy loss or miscarriage. This is a topic that sometimes isnt taken seriously, or people are told they're exaggerating. It's something that we must talk about. I promise the next chapters will be happier ones ! We're almost at the end of this fanfic (I'd say 4 or 5 chapters left), so soon, I'll finally work on the requests.

Next part this weekend !

Love y'all, take care of yourselves !

Enjoy !

“Made a meal and threw it up on Sunday I've got a lot of things to learn Said I would and I'll be leaving one day Before my heart starts to burn

So what's the matter with you? Sing me something new Don't you know the cold and wind and rain don't know They only seem to come and go away Times are hard when things have got no meaning I've found a key upon the floor Maybe you and I will not believe in The things we find behind the door So what's the matter with you? Sing me something new Don't you know the cold and wind and rain don't know They only seem to come and go away Stand by me, nobody knows the way it's gonna be Stand by me, nobody knows the way it's gonna be Stand by me, nobody knows the way it's gonna be Stand by me, nobody knows Yeah, nobody knows, the way it's gonna be”

January 1997- London:

I was depressed. So was Noel.

None of us knew how to act with the other. We were barely talking to each other. Andrew’s death shook us.

We moved in the house that would become “Supernova Heights”. And we didn’t have a minute alone for us on the evenings because it quickly became an open nightclub.

Noel wasn’t touching me at all when we were alone, but was all touchy when others were around, and I hated this.

I felt so alone, I didn’t have anyone to talk to.

So I started drowning my sorrow in alcohol, which wasn’t helpful because I ended up crying, then throwing up, and Noel was yelling at me because I was shaming him.

And a night, I lost it.

I became friends with Kate Moss not so long before, during Knebworth, and I was so fucking wasted I wasn’t good to be around.

So, how are you doing sweet Y/N? She asked

Trying to feel good as you can see. I answered, drinking my vodka

Trying? You should feel good with the house you have.

I don’t know if I have to remind you but I’m grieving my son.

Oh I see. But he wasn’t born yet so…

I was shocked.

I was almost 7 months pregnant Kate. It already was a human being.

Y/N, stop talking about this and have fun. Noel said, smiling but squeezing my leg, indicating me I should shut up

I’m sorry for your loss Y/N, truly. But you should try to get through it… She added

And oh, she shouldn’t have.

Listen to me Kate, I really like you okay? you’re a good friend, but you’ll make this kind of comment the day you’ll be pregnant and when your baby will come out fine, because he won’t have been strangled by his own umbilical cord okay? You didn’t lose a baby; you don’t know what it is and how it feels like! I shouted at her, standing up, on the verge of tears

Wait Y/N, it’s not how you should…

Fuck you. In fact, fuck all of you, I’m out of here. I said, leaving the living room

I went to the only room no one had the right to go to, not even me. Noel’s studio. I found Noel’s whiskey bottle and started drinking. I sat on the couch, fixing the ceiling, crying.

A few minutes after, when he saw I wasn’t coming back and after he searched me in the whole house, Noel entered, I heard him closing the door.

Are ye done? He said, coming in front of me, his arms crossed

Done for what?

Moaning like a mardy…

Don’t. seriously, don’t. I interrupted him, chuckling sarcastically

Ye owe fucking apologies to Kate.

I don’t owe owt to anyone! You fucking turned our house into a fucking nightclub without even asking me If I agreed to this, If I wasn’t too depressed or too tired for this because you don’t care and all this because you just don’t want to be alone with me!

Oh stop yer fucking nonsense!

I was sobbing, my heart was in pieces.

My fucking nonsense? You barely talk to me, you don’t touch me, you don’t make love with me, you don’t kiss me except when there’s other people around! Didn’t you think that maybe I needed some time alone with you after what happened? That we need to talk about it? To what fucking happened to our son, our Andy? That I suffer and need your support? No, you just let people come around and decide for me when to talk or when to shut up!

Others don’t need to know about this! Ye think I’m not suffering?

Well if you do, you hide it very well!

I’m just not showing it because it’s not people’s concern!

No it’s ours, but you’re acting like…

Like what? Fucking say it!

Like he never happened! I yelled

A little silence settled in.

In a way he didn’t.

For fuck’s sake Noel, do you even hear yourself?! I said, breaking down even more

We’ll try again!

You think that’s what I want to hear right now?! I don’t even know if I want to try again, especially with a man who doesn’t seem to care about his son or isn’t even grieving him.

Don’t ye dare saying that!

Please, just go back to your people. I need to be alone. I need to think.

About what?

Our future.

I just… need to think.

He sighed and left the room, slamming the door.

Is this alcoholic woman was who I wanted to become? Is this grieving and depressed woman was who I was supposed to be?

No, it wasn’t me. It wasn’t like me. I couldn’t and wouldn’t be.

After drinking the whole bottle and throwing up, I fell asleep like a little shit on the sofa in Noel’s studio.

*

The next morning, the smell of tea and someone caressing my face woke me up.

Mornin’ love. Noel said as I opened my eyes

Mornin’. I answered, shitfaced

I made ye a cuppa. He answered, handing it to me

Thanks.

I took it and drank. I was dehydrated. Noel cleared his throat.

So hum… did ye think well?

I looked at him with a jaded look.

Yeah I did. But you know, you can do better to try to have a chat with me.

Yea, ye’re right, soz. It’s just that… I don’t know how to act after being such a jerk last night.

Well I understood that. And to give you a proper answer, yes, I thought a lot.

And ye’re going to break up with me and leave, don’t ye? He said, lowering his head, so I wouldn’t see his eyes fill up with tears

I grabbed his face in my hands.

No Noel, I’m not planning to. But… I think we both need some space for a few. You have an album to finish, and we both need to get better. To heal. I’m going to leave for a few. I’ll be at Liam and Patsy’s. She has a kid so I think she might understand what I’m going through, and she’ll have good advice and methods to get better. By your side you also need to work on this. I know Andy’s death shook you too and that you’re suffering but you’re trying to make it all disappear with parties and drugs and alcohol.

Yea, ye’re right. He said, tears running down his face

I kissed him.

I think it might be the solution for us. We tried to face the situation, but it was too painful for us. It’ll save us, for a better future.

Noel sighed.

How long? He asked

I don’t know. The time we need to heal.

I can’t live without ye, and I need ye to heal Y/N.

I can’t live without you neither, that’s why I’m doing this. Or it will tear us apart. I’m not letting you go again.

Neither do I. Never.

I prepared a suitcase with the stuff I needed and left, kissing Noel’s cheek.

Don’t forget that I love you. I said before leaving

I won’t. And I hope you won’t too.

I gave him a weak smile, closed the door and walked to the nearest tube station.

*

When I rang at Liam’s door, a little boy opened the door.

Hello! He said, smiling

Oh hey there, you must be James! Is your mam here?

Yes, but who are you? He asked

I’m Y/N, I’m a friend.

Mommy! Y/N’s here! He shouted

Y/N? She answered, surprised

She came out of the kitchen, flour all over her clothes, and a bit on her cheek.

Heya! I said, embarrassed

Hey, what are you doing here?

I…um…

She saw my suitcase.

Come in, we’ll have a chat. I’m preparing a cake if you want to join. It’s good therapy.

She took my suitcase, putting it in the living room, and put cartoons for James to watch while we both went to the kitchen.

You did a good job with your son. He’s so cute, polite and careful.

Yes I know. Well his father also did a great job.

He’s Jim Kerr’ son, right?

Yup. She answered, insisting on the letter P

Well you raised him well.

Thank you.

A silence settled in. Patsy saw my sad look.

What’s going on in this little head of yours darling? She asked

Well huh… I hope you and Liam will accept to let me stay here for a bit… I know I came unannounced but…

Of course you will, you’re family. Now get to the main topic and mix the vanilla with the cream please. She interrupted me, handing me a bowl

I obliged and felt tears invade my eyes immediately.

Noel and I are not doing fine.

The opposite would have surprised me.

There are always people in the house, I don’t know most of ‘em. Noel is here, partying, alcohol and drugs never miss, he’s all touchy, smiling and laughing, but during the rare occasions we’re alone, he doesn’t talk to me or touches me, it’s like he’s even avoiding me…

I see…

And what happened yesterday was too much. I just… lost it. You know during Knebworth that I befriended Kate Moss. She was there yesterday. She made me feel like a fucking mardy get because when she asked how I was doing, I told her the truth. Noel told me to shut up, and Kate added the sentence she shouldn’t have said.

Which was?

“You should try to get through it”. I answered, imitating her

Oh shit.

So like I said, I just lost it. I got… so angry. I was mean and I escaped to Noel’s studio where I’m not supposed to go, it’s his space. But it was the only room I could go to be alone. And then Noel joined me and we argued. He told me the sentence I don’t want to hear. I’m not able to hear it yet. The famous “we’ll try again”. As if Andy never existed. So I got drunker, cried, threw up, thought and thought and thought again before passing out. And when thinking, I just saw who I was becoming, and I don’t like it. I don’t want to become this bloody alcoholic, this woman drowning her sorrow in liquid. So I told Noel that we need some time for ourselves, so our couple can get better. Because I love him so much Patsy. I don’t want us to be torn apart again…

Oh I know that you love him. And I understand. But you need to be at peace with your mind and body again. You were going to have a baby, that’s who Andy was. He was already a little human still growing in you, a person, you were excited, you wanted him. And just like that, he was taken away from you. You’re grieving. You’re grieving your son, who he was going to be, you’re grieving the mother you were about to be to him. And that’s perfectly normal. It’s as if you were grieving any loss A parent, a cousin, a cat… No one has to decide for you when it has to stop. But you have the power to do it, and for it, you need time. And of course you’re not done grieving only three months after. It’s common sense. Only a mother, even when she was a mum to be and technically in her heart, already a mum can understand this kind of grief.

She said everything. I felt less crazy. My situation was beyond normal. I broke down and she took me in her arms.

Thank you… I said

For what? For saying the truth?

Yes. Everyone except my mum, Peggy and you made me feel it wasn’t normal.

But it is. And Noel is also grieving. You both tried to face it but it’s too painful and you need to take time for yourselves.

That’s what I think, yes.

And you’re goddamn right.

*

When Liam was back home, we chatted, us three. It felt good to be understood. He wasn’t happy with his brother’s behaviour.

Fucking scouse schlepper. I know I can be a pain in the ass most of the time, me. But I would never behave like that. I don’t think he really remembers what our mam has been through. I know it’s something else, but I remember the nights where we could hear her scrinkin’ ‘cause she was struggling to make ends meet, to keep a roof over our heads, to feed us, to raise us despite all the shite we were doing and problems we were bringing her. From the moment she knew she was pregnant with each of us three, she loved us and already was our mam. She was so fucking scared of losing us and that the social services would come and take us away from her.

I already know all that Li’.

I know, it’s just to say that his behaviour towards ye has been fucking rank. Sometimes I wonder if he remembers where he fucking comes from.

He’s hurt too Li’…

He maybe is. But what is it right, is that he’s being a teetotal arsehole. Anyway. Ye know ye can stay here as long as you want, ye’re me sister Y/N. But I think ye need holidays. Like in Spain or summat like that, under the sun. Somewhere where ye’ll feel godlike.

And I’ll accompany you. Patsy added

It would be great, but I don’t earn enough for that.

I’ll pay everything fer ye.

Oh come on cock, you’re not going to…

I will. Ye saved me life countless of times Y/N. Let me do the same fer ye.

*

Patsy and I left two days after, when James went back to his father’s. We went to Malaga, in the south of Spain. It was sunny and hot. We would stay there for a full month. Sat on the terrace of the rented house on the hill, I was admiring the landscapes around. I could see the mere horizon and the silhouette of the African continent that wasn’t so far.

Have you ever been to Africa? I asked

Not yet, but I hope one day I will. Patsy answered

Me too. I always imagine the Lions, elephants, zebras or giraffes and the Saharan desert like it is told to us when we’re young folks, when you learn it at school or when you see it on TV. But I think there’s so much more to see.

Oh there is! What we’re learning or are always told is that the Saharan desert is only sand, but in truth it’s mainly rocky.

I know! In fact, us Europeans don’t know much about Africa. You and I should go together one day.

With pleasure! Oh get ready! She said, looking at her watch

Ready for what?

To get pampered! We’ve got spa and massages.

Wait, what the… Did Liam also pay that?

Yeah he did.

But it must be so expensive!

He just wants you to heal and feel better.

A massage won’t heal me. It always feels good though. But I’m still going to fucking kill him.

*

Three weeks later, the owner of the rented house came to give me a package. I opened it. I was surprised to find a CD with a word. It was from Noel. I could recognize his handwriting.

“Finally finished this song, It’ll be on the album. Please, give it a go. I love you with all my being and beyond. Tenderly, your Noely.”

On the CD was written the title. “Stand by me (mustique demo)”

I first heard the song in 1994 during a soundcheck in Japan.

I went to the living room where a CD player was. I put it in and pressed on play.

Patsy heard the intro of the song and sat on the stairs.

Is that… she started

Yup, a new song. It’s an Avant premiere.

It seems to be a special one since it was Noel who sent it to you, am I wrong?

No you’re not. And indeed, I think it might be one, yeah.

“ Made a meal and threw it up on Sunday I've got a lot of things to learn Said I would and I'll be leaving one day Before my heart starts to burn”

What does he mean? Patsy asked

After Noel saved me from Kenneth, he took care of me. Peggy tried to give him some advice to cook us meals to make sure we were eating properly. One day he cooked us a Sunday roast and it led to food poisoning. We vomited for two days. After that we came back to pot noodles.

Oh!

And then, the chorus.

“Stand by me, nobody knows the way it's gonna be Stand by me, nobody knows the way it's gonna be Stand by me, nobody knows the way it's gonna be Stand by me, nobody knows Yeah, nobody knows, the way it's gonna be” 

I started crying. Noel was really scared to lose me. He was really scared I would leave him. But I wouldn’t.

Hey, are you okay? Patsy asked, when she saw my tears

Yeah, just got a bit emotional that’s all.

Oh, come here. She said, opening her arms to me

I found refuge in them.

“If you're leaving will you take me with you? I'm tired of talking on my phone There is one thing I can never give you My heart will never be your home”

Here he’s alluding to when we were first together, when he left for tour with the Inspiral carpets. We were calling each other everyday but it wasn’t enough to save our couple. He’s also talking about the fact we’re both clawing to our independence and a certain freedom. That’s even why he doesn’t want me to hang around in his studio at home and it’s perfectly understandable. Though, he’s lying a bit too because our hearts are each other’s home.

He’s talented. He knows what he’s writing.

Well at least here, yes.

What do you mean?

I mean that cocaine and alcohol might have helped during the creation of some songs. Like for Wonderwall and Champagne Supernova for example. They are masterpieces, no one is gonna deny that, but the lyrics are nonsense. Everyone feels these songs in their heart and give them the meaning they want. But if you ask people what the lyrics mean after a dictionary, they’re going to look at you and answer “in fact, I don’t know shit”. I feel like Noel didn’t realise it yet.

You’re right. You really are. Your analysis is clever.

*

Two nights after, I was watching the movie Highlander, and I was singing out loud everytime a Queen song was coming in the movie.

At the middle of it, I heard a noise that wasn’t part of it. I paused the movie and listened closely. The noise happened again.

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me! I said to myself

Rocks at my window. And it surely wasn’t Patsy.

I opened the window and stepped back.

Not this time me love; I saw ye open the window. He said

I approached.

What the hell are you doing here Gallagher? I asked

I… I miss ye. I wanted to see this pretty face of yers.

Jeez! I miss you too Noel, but please, respect my choices, I told you I would be coming back when I’ll be ready.

And I know ye enough to tell this day will never come. I’m actually losing ye. I can’t let that happen. Can I come in? I have two gifts for ye.

I hesitated.

No, Patsy might be sleeping. Wait for me, I’m coming to you. Just let me put on a jacket.

I couldn’t find my jacket, so I grabbed a plaid and put it on my shoulders. I went downstairs and opened the door. Here he was, standing.

Hey beautiful. He said

Hey. I answered

I took him in my arms and held him tight. I missed him too, but a part of me was still desperate because of what happened to us and because of what he told me.

Do ye… want to take a walk? I t could be good, and we could chat? He asked

Yeah, that’s a good idea. There’s a small forest in there. I said, indicating my left

I closed the front door behind me, and we started walking.

So… how are ye doing? He asked, not knowing where to start

I’m okay. Trying to get better. What about you?

I’m fine. I’m working a lot, so it doesn’t give me time to… think about it.

About him, Noel, not about it. Just say things as they are. What happened to us? Before Andy, we could communicate and say things as they were…

I didn’t mean “it” love. I just didn’t know if ye were ready to hear me say “him”.

Ready or not, he was our son Noel. Not just an object. I just don’t know how you function on this one.

Well I’m still coping with it, me. I knew ye never meant to sound selfish because I know ye’re not. But it shattered me too Y/N. And I didn’t know how to talk about Andy without making ye scrink, knowing it was already what ye were doing before sleeping and when waking up. It broke me heart to know our son died, and yer cries were breaking it more. He’s gone and there’s nothing more we can do.

But since it shattered you that much Noel, why did you say “we’ll try again” when you’re apparently grieving him? And why not talking about this with our supposed friends who are invading your house everyday?

Because they wouldn’t understand. Only us two know what it is and what it feels like. And I’m soz fer saying we’ll try again. It’s a sensitive topic fer us both and I want us to get through it. And we will, with time. Ye’re right we need to talk about Andy. And when I was telling ye I was starting to lose ye, I was right. Ye don’t call our home “our house” but mine. And if I didn’t come here, I’m sure you would never come back, because you’ll think we wouldn’t talk about Andy. We have lost a baby, that’s true. But I want this event to make our couple stronger. I want to marry ye, no matter what and have a family with ye.

I chuckled.

Noel, what you’re saying is beautiful, but you’re oh so blind. I answered

And why so?

You haven’t touched me in months! When we hugged a few minutes ago it was the first time since October! You haven’t kissed me. When I was scrinkin’, you were downstairs with your buds, drinking and snorting cocaine! Words are beautiful, but what about acts?

A silence settled in.

Sex isn’t what ye need when ye’ve lost…

Oh shut your cake ole. Stop finding excuses.

Ye’re right, I fucked up and I apologize. And don’t think I hold ye responsible fer Andy because it’s not yer fault. I know ye enough to know ye feel guilty. So please, don’t.

I think I needed to hear this. Because he was right. I felt guilty deep inside. And I needed him more than that. It just couldn’t and wouldn’t go like this. Not without his support.

Promise me.

Promise what?

That’s you’ll finally support me.

That’s why I’m here. And also to give ye this.

As we arrived in the dark forest, Noel took out too things of his pocket. The first was a medallion with Andy’s hand imprint. He insisted on doing it after his death. Just this should have made me understand he was in pain too. He put the necklace around my neck. Tears invaded my eyes.

Thank you. I said

He showed me his neck. He had the same.

He’s with us both.

The second gift was my engagement ring that I forgot in London.

And also this because I can’t let ye forget we’re a fucking team and I still really want to marry ye. I’ll support ye no matter what. I love ye Y/N. I fucking love ye beyond anything. We can get through it. I’ve been an arsehole and I’m so soz, because ye know this is not who I really am.

I couldn’t resist the urge to kiss him. I just brought my lips to his and held him as tight as I could. He kissed me back and did the same. I started peppering his neck with kisses and he gasped. He wrapped his arms around my waist. When I stopped, I guided his body to the grass. He sat down, and I hovered him, kissing him again. I put my hands on both sides of his face, while he wrapped his arms around me again. I quickly felt him get hard under me.

Noel…

I want ye too Y/N. I need ye. Touch me… He answered

I unbuckled, unzipped and unbuttoned his trousers. I put my hand on his hard bulge and started massaging it.

He moaned lowly, before squeezing my ass and kissing my neck.

He stopped my hand and pushed me away before putting the plaid I had on my shoulders away and sliding down my nightdress off. He looked at my body.

Ye’re so goddamn beautiful. I hope ye know it.

And so are you, handsome.

I helped him get rid of his jacket and tee before dealing with his jeans and boxers.

When we were both naked, he started kissing me again, putting me on top of him again.

Tell me… He said

Tell you what?

Tell me what ye want me to do and I’ll do it.

You know what I want.

I’d like to hear it. I need to hear it.

I put my mouth near his hear.

I want you to make love to me Noely.

He took his member in his hand and guided himself inside me.

We both moaned in unison.

Are ye okay?

I haven’t felt this good in months. I answered

He started rolling his hips against mine, as I put my arms around his neck, enjoying the heat and the passion of our reunion. It as slow and tender. What we both needed.

Oh god… yes… Noel moaned

It was as if our lives depended on it. Our hands were roaming on each other’s body.

It was strong. It was powerful. Full of love.

I love you Noel. I said between moans

He went deeper with his thrusts, making me moan loudly as he touched my G-spot. I felt his arms getting tighter around me.

Our moans and the sound of our bodies slapping against each other were filling the forest and slightly echoing.

I felt myself getting closer to my orgasm as Noel’s member hit my sweet spot everytime. My walls were contracting around him, causing him to lose the rhythm of his movements.

Give it to us, love. Make us cum. Ye know we need it. Please.

I arched my back to give him a better angle, his hands on it.

He panted in my mouth, his eyes closed, his face slightly contorsioning with pleasure.

It was all I needed to be thrown over the edge. It felt so intense that tears invaded my eyes again, and sobs, sobs of pleasure mixed with moans took over.

A familiar coil exploded in my lower stomach, as I shut my eyes, tears spilling from them, my insides convulsing around Noel’s manhood.

I didn’t know it was as intense for me that it was for Noel, who cried out, sobbed, and finally groaned in pleasure, before emptying himself inside me.

My head fell in the crook of his neck, that was wet with sweat and… tears?

I looked at him. He was crying, just like me.

You scrinkin’? I asked, catching my breath

Yea… He answered

Why?

Because it was too much. And because I love ye so fucking much I would die without ye. I was so scared to lose ye again.

We’re scrinkin’ for the same thing.

Good. Means we’re connected.

He softened inside me, so I pulled out. We lay next to each other in the grass, Noel covering us with the plaid.

I really want to marry ye. Let’s do it when the occasion will let us.

I agree on that.

But let’s be clear on summat. I’m not doing or saying this to make ye me property or because I’m scared to lose ye. Ye’ll always belong to yerself. I’m doing and saying this because I love ye, I want us when the time will come again to have our family, and I want ye to stand by me.

And I will. Nobody knows the way it’s gonna be, huh?

He smiled, knowing now that I listened to the song.

No, nobody knows. But at least, we’ll be together.

[sasaleletrebol]

I found you by total accident…

Meet my OC Luna! This is the only good drawing I have of her, and I forgot the ink splotch on her cheek.. but I’m to lazy to fix it lol

I’m still learning how to draw skeletons, so if you have any tips I’d love to hear them TvT

Your art is very edible btw :D

WHAT'S UP POOKIE? DID YOU THINK I FORGOT ABOUT YOUR CHILD? NUH-HUH

Two versions because I didn't know what to do for the background lol

So... you discover I can't draw wings... you... why

Nah, nvm. It was a lot of fun and also I really like dragons but can't draw them lololololololololol

So... Tips???? Man I wish I knew how to draw skeletons too. But ahí te va some stuff that help me be a little good at it:

Ok, I'm not the biggest expert on this. But I'll try my best!

I'll devide it in sections

Study: If possible try to understand the basics of the real thing. Ya know, so your brain have a more clear vision of what your hands are going to draw.

Studying is (for me) an important part of the creative process. It's the "why are things the way they are?". Once it's explained, you'll have more confidence in what you're going to do.

Big Shapes: Now, obviously you're not going to remember all those bones by heart to draw a silly skeleton. That's what big shapes are for.

Try to look at them not as lines, but as objects. Objects have perspective. It doesn't have to be exaggerated or perfect. But knowing it can greatly improve your drawing skills.

I'll recomend watching some tutorials or drawing practices for this.

Details: this it's the fun part! Now our skeleton has a face! Yipie!.

Here I want you to remember to FLIP THE CANVAS NOW OR LAMENT IN THE COLORING. Now we are working with finer lines (depending on your style) for the smaller but not less important part of your work.

Technically it's the "lineart", but I don't know what that is *proceeds to whistle at just cleaning the sketch (but that's personal taste)*.

Style: Here's where personal taste comes into place. It's the pencils that you use, the lines you work with, what's best looking aesthetically to you.

I'll add and extra tip here... it's... STEALING!!! MUAHAHAHAJ. Ok no. Don't do that. What I mean by "stealing" is to see references of styles that you really like and try to implement elements of them in your work!

For example my biggest Inspirations are Jakei, x_nzlian and fanarts I really like!. I study really deep what I most like about those styles and use it to improve my own!

Like, how they draw the noses, the eyes, the shapes of the mouth they use, how they draw clothes interacting with the bones.

Take care and have fun. Don't compare yourself to others. Don't be sad if it doesn't work at the first try. Just keep going, keep learning, keep looking, learn from your mistakes and take care of your hand omg please. Do some wirst warm ups (that you can look up on YouTube and stuff) before grabbing a pencil. And your eyes, if you're a digital artist. DON'T DRAW ON A PURE WHITE CANVAS FOR THE LOVE OF GOD.

And also you can do whatever the heck you want! Don't follow all of this at the point of the letter. What I mean it's have fun and do whatever suits best for you. I'm just some silly clover in the internet who thinks that they know what they're doing.

That's it. Sorry if it is too long uuuhhh. Here, you got a cookie as a reward for reading all of that rambling→🍪. Thank you, and take care of yourself💕