#so we're in the process trying some drugs to help and see if we can get things started and my metabolism back on track

[cherriesandcharms]

..

[vad-hander]

YOU KNOW WE’RE NOT COMPATIBLE PT.5 FIN

pairing: Haechan x reader

others: Mark, Jaemin, Jeno as Haechan's friends.

genre: smut | angst | fluff | college AU | fuck buddies to lovers | series

warnings: reader is mean and degrading towards Haechan throughout the fic (but nothing serious), mentions of drugs and alcohol, mentions of stealing, Haechan gets injured (breaks his leg in first chapters, no graphic descriptions), explicit description of sexual interactions between Haechan and reader, unrequited love, reader has issues with showing her feelings, scared of other people's opinion, slowburn, romance

words: 10k

summary: despite being fuck buddies, both you and Haechan hated each others guts. he was a nosy, ignorant, attention seeking brat. at least that's what you thought, before he took you out for some bonding time. now you weren't so sure of your feelings or his intentions. it doesn't help that your friends seem to hate Haechan's guts too. you try to navigate your own feelings, while trying to please everyone surrounding you, sometimes at your own expense.

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4 | PART 5

-

“Hi love“ Haechan called for you in a barely there whisper. His eyes flattered as you sat down on the passenger seat and turned to see the man on the driver's seat.

“Hey“ you beamed at him, leaning over the console of the car to give Haechan's cheek a peck. 

“Last night I had a thought.“ Haechan continued in the same soft spoken tone. The way he spoke really made you regret having any plans for the day. You wanted him on top of you, preferably immediately. 

“Yeah?“ You buckled up, turnung once again to see Haechan properly. 

“Since the day we kinda became a thing-“ you blushed immediately at his words and the way his lips made a little pout at first, turning into the slightest smirk all within a nano-second. A single thought that you were a thing with this gorgeous boy with heart-shaped lips made you blush, you wondered what sort of thoughts went through his pretty head. You gave Haechan a nod and smiled. “We haven’t talked much about us.“ You gave him another nod. “So I kinda put off asking you properly...?“ your brows raised a little as the wheels turned in your head until they finally processed where he was leading this. 

“Oh yes-“ you opened your mouth. 

“Will you be my girlfriend?“ he smiled. 

“I will, gladly, I’m already pretty much all yours.“ You chirped, leaning over the console once again, your lips finding Haechan's mouth to tease his lip between yours. "You are too cute, Hyuck." Your fingers smoothed the hair on his nape. Haechan closed his eyes, almost purring at the sensation.

"My pretty girlfriend." Haechan murmured, his arm reaching to stroke your lower back and making your guts twist at the sweetness in his voice. 

You tried the new word on your tongue "My cutiful boyfriend." you whispered mesmerized, moving your head back a little to look at his beaming smile and to find the beauty marks on his cheeks to give each and every one a soft peck. "Now I want to spend the entire day kissing your lips-" you whispered into his skin, your fingers flexing over his jaw. 

"We can cancel plans. Only because your plan sounds as delicious and attractive as kimchi stew." you scoffed. "Unbuckle then, we're going home." Haechan let you go, trying to undo his seatbelt. 

Unbuckling and going home meant going back to your home, since you were right outside your apartment and going back there meant letting Eunsoo see you two, letting Haechan in your bed for the first time also. The wheels in your head spun at record pace. 

"Eunsoo’s home. Can we do your place?" you batted your eyelashes at him.

"My place's an hour drive away, do you want to waste a whole hour to driving?" Haechan pouted, his perfectly shaped mouth looking even more kissable than before.

You still found it in you to try one last time. "I'll seal my lips and pray for no traffic jam?" You crossed your fingers on both hands with a little scrunch of your nose.

"Ah-" the boy sighed, dropping both his palms at the steering wheel. You were hoping he'd given in. "I see what you're trying to do." His voice, though, seemed a tad bit disappointed. Your heart jumped in your throat.

You panicked at first. Allowing yourself to steady your breathing and elaborate, "It'll be pretty awkward, walking back upstairs with you and telling Eunsoo to close her eyes and ears because we can't wait to stick our tongues up each other's ass and drive to yours-."

"Oh-, so you're that freaky-." Haechan snorted. 

"Ah!" you rolled your eyes. Haechan clearly knew you were speaking metaphorically. At least you were hoping he did.

"Okay, just because I'm all curious about that tongue thing, I'm taking you back to my place." Haechan pressed the engine button and moved his attention to the side view mirror. 

"I didn't literally mean that. Oh my god!" you whispered exasperatedly. 

"Well, we will really have to see where it'll take us." Haechan chuckled as his hands turned the steering wheel full left to leave his parking spot.

"Shut up." You pouted, looking away. 

The road to Haechan's apartment felt so new to you this time around. This was the place you've visited a hundred times before, the walls of his apartment were witnesses to all your intimate moments, but this visit was about to be the most personal one. It's been a little while since you two shared a bed together - you were honestly glad that it was this way. You were glad, that while you were figuring your feelings out you were given space and time to do so.  

Once inside the apartment, Haechan kicked off his shoes at the entrance, stretching his arms overhead like he had the longest day at work.

You followed suit and let out a comfortable sigh as you stepped deeper into the space. Haechan moved himself to the kitchen with a certain domesticity that made your heart flutter.

“Since it’s still pretty early in the day, the only option I have for a drink is water.“ You chuckled, following his steps to the kitchen. Haechan opened the fridge door and showed you the beers, soju and makgeolli taking all of the door space. 

“Water would also be okay. I’m not thirsty anyway.“ You smiled, Haechan turning his back to you to pour water into a glass. You smiled to yourself while he couldn't see, at the cavalry and sudden wish to be the gentleman. The better you knew the real him, the sweeter he was becoming, and the deeper your feelings for him were getting. Like you were actually ashamed of yourself to find him more attractive just because he offered you water.

Haechan returned with a tall glass of cold water, handing it to you with that soft smile of his. “So,” he started, leaning back against the counter as you drank, “are we going to ignore how I just asked you to be my girlfriend?”

Grinning, you set your glass down and leaned in, closing the distance between you. “I am all yours now,” you murmured, your voice a mix of excitement and giddiness.

Before you had the chance to process the feeling once again, Haechan moved closer to you, cupping your face in his hands. “I just hope you will always be able to see how much you mean to me,” he said softly, his eyes searching yours.

You barely had time to respond before Haechan pressed his lips against yours with an urgency that took your breath away. The kiss was a blend of sweetness and desire. His lips moved against yours in a way that made your heart race. You melted against him, fingers weaving into Haechan's hair as you kissed him back hungrily. As you kissed him, time seemed to slow down, the world around you fading into nothing but the soft sounds of your breaths mingling and the warmth of his body against yours.

Haechan pulled you even closer, his hands sliding around your waist as he deepened the kiss. Your heart raced as Haechan guided you back toward the couch, still locked in each other’s embrace. You could feel the soft cushions pressing against you as he gently laid you back, hovering above you, his weight both secure and electrifying. Haechan captured your lips once more, pouring all of his affection and passion into the kiss, and you once again found yourself responding with the same passion within you.

The sweet taste of his mouth filled you with an overwhelming sense of happiness. You were laying on Haechan's couch, his body weight pressing you down into the fabric of it, his mouth softly licking into yours, and you could honestly say that you were happy. Haechan brought you happiness with the simplest actions.

Haechan's warmth contrasted with the cool fabric of the couch beneath you, you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling the man even closer.

When you finally broke apart, panting and flushed, Haechan’s gaze was filled with a mix of admiration and delight. You could see the joy shining brightly in his eyes, and you couldn't suppress the smile that broke across your face. “Now the real question is,” you whispered, your heart still pounding from both the kisses and the chemistry, “what does a cutiful boyfriend have in store for his pretty girlfriend?” your finger ran over his lips.

“Want to stick to something relaxing. How about a movie?” He suggested with a playful tone, adjusting to lay beside you.

“Watch a movie? Sounds too mundane for a first date as boyfriend and girlfriend? Especially after what you've done for me previously.” you challenged with an amused arch of your brow.

“Well, I do have something else in mind.” Haechan winked, his playful demeanor only amplifying the heat still lingering between you two. “Prepare to be dazzled,” he said as the screen of his TV flickered to life. You sank into the cushions next to Haechan as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you against his side. You could feel the steady rhythm of his heart thrumming just beneath your ear, its pulse matching your own excitement. “This is nice,” he said softly, his fingers absentmindedly weaving into your hair while the movie played on.

“It really is,” you agreed, your head nestled comfortably against him. This intimacy wasn't new but felt so different to what you previously had with him. Cozy lightness enveloped you both—a little slice of domestic bliss you weren't able to experience before. The only thought that lingered in your head was opening up your cards to Eunsoo would be nice. You loved watching movies together, a little addition to the party in the face of Haechan and possibly Jeno didn't sound too bad.

The plot unfolded on-screen, but your focus shifted entirely between stolen glances and the soft exchanges of affection with the man that held you in his arms. Haechan leaned in and pressed gentle kisses to your forehead, your temple, and the corner of your mouth, playful and light. Minutes on the screen melted into hours, the laughter from the film blended with your quiet conversation, sometimes going beyond what was going on on the screen in front of you. “What do you think our friends would say if they knew we were officially together now?” Haechan asked with a cheeky grin.

“I fear both Sua and Aeri will have a whiplash. What your friends would say?“ your eyes trained on Haechan's face expression. He was showing you a smirk so wide.

"Probably they'll be jealous. I secured the hottest girl in our university." Haechan's mouth lowered onto your cheek, giving you the loudest smooch.

"Oh you did?" you teased, convinced he was just flirting with you. You wondered who the hell would consider you the hottest girl in school except for him. And Haechan wasn't the most trustworthy source when it came to you. He very clearly was biased as hell. "But it's not like we're going to tell everyone tomorrow, right?" you asked in a barely there whisper.

"No. I know you need a little bit of time, I will be giving you time to work everything out with your own pace." Haechan spoke back fondly, your mouth immediately covering his in appreciation. "But my patience is very thin and I can't give you all the time in the world or be your secret pleasure." he added in, pulling your face away.

"But you enjoyed being my secret pleasure for so long-." you tried to tease, seeing a frown on Haechan's face the next moment. "I know, I won't take long, I promise." you pecked his mouth once again, nuzzling your face against his neck.

Eventually, both of you shifted, tangled up in the couch beneath a cozy blanket that Haechan covered you both with at one point. You tucked your legs beneath you, turning until you were fully nestled against him, ignoring the movie playing on TV completely. Haechan’s warmth radiated, and as far as you could tell, you were both content to remain wrapped up in this world you had created—just a boy and his girl, savoring the newfound sweetness of their relationship.

Haechan adjusted his position to cradle you further into his side. Eyes drooping, you found yourself drifting away, cocooned in the soft ambiance of his existence. Feeling safe and cherished, you closed your eyes and allowed yourself to relax completely. “Hey,” Haechan whispered, breaking the soft silence, “you still with me?”

“Always,” you murmured, eyelashes fluttering open to meet his gaze.

“Good,” he said, smile wide and genuine, “because I intend to keep you right here for a long time, my beautiful girlfriend.” Haechan's mouth pecked your lips, squeezing you in his hold affectionately. Just a little more pressure from his hands and you would burst. You actually would burst even with no pressure of Haechan's fingers. His affection and such open tenderness and lack of any concerns and small traces of shyness - it all made your heart so full. Haechan's presence made your body and mind so full, you had so much to learn from him when it came to feelings. The sincerity of his words washed over you like a gentle wave, soothing you even further until you found yourself drifting into the state of blissful comfort—all while Haechan continued to hold you close.

-

The air of your apartment was filled with laughter and playful banter as you raided your closet alongside with Eunsoo, flipping through dresses and tops. Half way through the floor was strewn with a colorful array of clothes.

Eunsoo made a loud gasp, attracting your full attention "How about this? It’s cute and shows off my legs. Perfect for making an entrance-" you happily chirped in reply, not letting her finish the sentence.

"And sweeping Jeno off his feet!" you wheezed, teasingly. Your eyes focusing back on the dress in your hold. Would Haechan find you extra hot in this dress? Nah, probably not as much as you'd like him to. You tossed it to the common grave of clothes beneath your feet.

Eunsoo held up a top and checked it out with her full concentration, holding it up against her waist and struck a playful pose. “What do you think? Should I go for ‘wow’ or ‘whoops’?” she switched between the dress and the top for visual representation.

"Ugh..." you checked her options carefully "I think the dress. Jeno will definitely find it easier to take it off you later on." you giggled once again, met with an exasperated wincing of Eunsoo. She threw the top your way, you dodging the throw very last minute.

"You're so annoying! I'm not helping you with your outfit." Eunsoo showed you her tongue, squeezing the dress and stepping away.

"Well I'm not trying to sweep anyone off their feet so I'm good with whatever." you rolled your eyes, letting Eunsoo leave. She shuffled her feet behind you.

"You sure about no one?" she asked in quiter tone. The question confused you, you turned around quickly to see what she meant with that. If she had any suspicion about Haechan.

"Why?" you let her know you were confused with your face expression. "I don't know, shouldn't we get you laid or something? We've been pretty lonely for a while?" she cocked a brow at you and you cackled. "I mean, do you like anyone? From school, maybe?" she full on investigated you now, even taking a step further your way to corner you.

"Lol, no. That's so sudden of you." you gave her an awkward laugh, turning away to face the wardrobe. Cold sweats hitting your body in waves.

-

Your head bopped to the music playing in the living room of the party house. Eunsoo long lost somewhere between Jeno's arms, you were swaying your hips in proud loneliness, surrounded by a whole lot of drunken young adults. You've seen Haechan right as you entered the house, he's given your arm a very firm shake and you a very flirtatious wink, but besides that he kept things at bay. He gave you space and time to navigate your feelings the way you wanted to and you were so thankful. You were so thankful Haechan gave you time to adjust to your new status and came with understanding on your public affection anxiety. At least, when he was sober.

You were missing him terribly, you did want to kiss his lips badly, and with every passing second and every sip of liquor you wanted to find him and ask him to take you home. They often say to be careful with your wishes and you were about to find out the statement was very true. But before that happened, you were enjoying the music with your whole heart.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, my pretty girlfriend, how much longer do I have to pretend I don’t love you?“ Haechan made your breath hitch for more than one reason. His palm flexed over your stomach and the wooziness that creeped onto the back of your head from the drinks swallowed you fully. You shushed the boy in a weak attempt to push him off you. Not like it had any effect on him, not like a single person at that party gave a flying fuck about you two, but still. You weren’t keen on PDA, he knew that, you knew that and you weren’t for the sake of you keen to make out with Haechan in that big ass living room in front of everyone either. You did what you do best - shook his hand off you and turned around scandalised. Your eyes focused on his pink lips and your only thought was how insanely kissable they always looked to you. You felt bipolar - part of you wanted to kiss him, the other, more powerful part of you, wanted to slap him in panic. Haechan's eyes beamed with flirtation, yours did with fear and angriness.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?“ You hissed, you didn’t want to make a scene, you just wanted him to process what he was doing and how you asked him to wait just a little more, before you’d tell your friends what was going on.

“Clearly, just trying to kiss the prettiest girl in the city, who also happens to be my girlfriend.“ he flirted, trying his best to wrap you in his hands once again.

“Sh.“ You tried to shush him calmly, you could tell by the way he was wobbling in place he had far more lot drinks than you did, and you felt bad. Haechan clearly didn't read your face expression or process your reaction. He needed to be taken back home to sleep and sober up. “You need to go home.“ You tried to push him, to get at least an arms length between you and next to push him in some corner, away from everyone. 

“You are, my home!“ he exclaimed dramatically loudly and a couple of people turned around to see where the noise was coming from. He tried to hug you, not even forcing anything else, but it still felt off, revealing your relationship like that did not feel right. 

“Hyuck, stop doing this, stop touching me, please. You promised me time?" you almost begged him, your fingers catching his as he still tried to touch you. "Should I beg you?" You tried to shush him one last time - your patience was wearing thin and you were pretty sure you could see Aeri and Sua in the distance, or you hallucinated them, but either way Haechan got his face in front of yours once again and you panicked. “Get off me, can’t you hear? You’re embarrassing me!“ It slipped off your tongue accidentally, you bit your tongue and hoped he didn’t hear.

“How is giving you a hug embarrassing you in any way?“ He giggled and finally pressed himself against you, your head wrapped, or better say locked, by his arm. His lips traced your cheekbone before he froze. “Or did you, huh." he snorted sarcastically and you could very clearly smell all the drinks he had tonight. "Did you mean that it’s embarrassing for you to be hugged by me in public? Is that what you mean?“ the initial intention of his grip on you was long forgotten, Haechan held you in place to just get the truthful answer out of you.

“No, of course, no.“ you began to sputter and gave yourself away. 

“Shit, of course. How did I not think of this in the first place. Fucking great!" Haechan let go of you. "My whole life I’ve dreamt of a girlfriend that would be too embarrassed to give me a hug in public.“ He didn't move back, but also gave you full ability to get away from him. You hated how this one turned out. Now, in the current situation you didn't want to move an inch away from him. Haechan didnt say it, but somehow you could tell if you did so, you'd lose him forever. The beat of the song was knocking air out of your lungs and you were sincerely battling with your own self right the moment.

“I’m not, it’s not that. I swear.“ You pleaded in panic, raising your eyes to see Haechan, his mood was definitely ruined by you, he stared at you intently, expecting your next move.

“Yes? Will you prove to me it’s not that, please?“ he raised a brow, expecting any move from you.

“Ugh- I don’t know how to do that. You tell me.“ You looked at him, ready for any answer. He waited for 10 seconds, then another 10, and then he leaned in and you jerked back in surprise. If he'd let you clarify, you'd very sincerely let him know you weren't expecting him to do that. That's it.

“Yeah, enough of a prove, thank you.“ he bowed his neck fakely and took off in one swift motion of his feet. 

“Wait, wait!“ You tried to grab onto his fingers and make him stop. Your brain malfunctioned, you were trying to catch Haechan's fingers as he constantly pushed you away, also trying to get through people to the exit.

“Hey, don’t touch my hand, I don’t want to embarrass you any longer.“ He suddenly turned around, bitterness in the tone of his voice too evident. Haechan's face expression told you he despised you and any words that needed to come out of your mouth got swallowed.

“But why are you leaving?“ you cried out stupidly, the answer was right on the tip of Haechan's tongue, ready to bite you back. You knew you deserved it, but tears still tried to fill your eyes.

“Going home, like you advised me to.“ Haechan spat, not turning around this time and you barely made out his words through the music.

“Can I come with you?“ you had to ask even though you knew the answer. He'd probably send you home out of spite. Or because you truly deserved it.

“Why would you want that?“ He scoffed and stopped to face you and the way his eyes flickered in the dim lighting hit you deeper than you expected to. You were about to lose him. With every step he took closer to exit he was shutting himself down from you more. If you won't do something, literally anything, he'll walk away from you. For forever. 

“Why are you being so difficult? You know exactly why I would want that.“ your brows furrowed in frustration. That's not exactly the move you should've done, and you could see it in Haechan's face, but it was too late now

“I am being difficult? You can’t even say to my face why you want to go with me. You don’t even know what you actually want.“ he scoffed, his eyes rolling into his head.

“No, I do.“ you took a step closer to Haechan, the man in front of you continued wearing his annoyed mask, his chin made drew a circle as he tilted his head backwards.

“Yeah, I know exactly what that is. Keep shitting me with your friends in public and running to my bed once you feel like it.“ you stopped blinking, you hurt him bad, and if it wasn't in his words enough, it was written pretty clearly all over his face.

“No-.“ you were ready to cry.

“You and your childish behaviour are making me sick.“ He spat and walked off. Putting a full stop to this conversation, but you weren't ready to let him go.

“Haechan!“ You reached for him, trying to catch up and have the needed conversation.

“No!“ He turned around, his face full of pain and disgust. “Don’t touch me! Don’t go after me! I can’t take all of this any longer!“ You opened your mouth, but no sound came out of it. Did he mean can’t take this situation any longer? Or this place? Or you? As a whole person and as a girlfriend - did he say that because he didn’t want you to be his girlfriend anymore? You tried to move your feet, but it felt like you were confined. Your head pulsed and you really tried to work out, whether or not you wanted to cry. 

“Now, what happened between you two?“ Eunsoo sighed tiredly, giving you a jump scare with the way she popped from behind you, cocky smile making her barely visible dimple on the right cheek pop. Did she stood aside and watched your entire fight? Or did she see even more, how Haechan tried to kiss you? Or did she see the way you were trying to make him stay, when he wanted to run away? You couldn't care less, at this point. It probably meant nothing to Haechan since this very moment anyway. Your brains went in overdrive with panic. The way Haechan stomped away, it was just hard to believe he’d want to deal with you in any way after this.

“He-, ah, so f-, ah,“ you had to clear your throat multiple times to make an answer come out “Haechan seems to be out of his mind drunk. Thought I was someone he didn’t know. What a creep.“ You finally mustered an answer, sighing in relief but also in pain at your own terrible lie. If you were over - there's no point in letting her know what happened between you two before.

“What?“ Eunsoo’s face paled to an extent where your hand almost reached for her shoulder in support. Did she suddenly feel sick? 

“What, what?“ you asked confused, hoping she would bomb you with another what. Right now would’ve been the perfect time for clownery. 

“Haven’t you talked to Haechan at Jeno’s party?“ colour slowly began to return to her face. Eunsoo’s completely confused face mirrored yours perfectly.

“Should I… Should I have talked to him?“ You weren’t sure if you thought the question or actually asked it, but an answer came through giving you an idea. 

“What?“ Here we go again, you would’ve chuckled if you weren’t beyond confused why would Eunsoo be… ?upset? over the fact you might’ve not spoken to Haechan. She looked genuinely upset, making a fury of feelings hurry through your being. Should I tell her? 

“What, what, Eunsoo?“ You took a step closer to your friend as it seemed her vocal cords gave up on her. 

“The whole thing was set up so he would talk to you. What the hell does he think he’s doing?“ Her voice came out very loud and clear. With you also being closer to her, Eunsoo's words rang through your head in double loudness. It was your turn to stand dumbfounded in that room. 

“What?“ you asked once again, any wish to joke around evaporated from your body.

“Haechan was calling and texting me for a couple of months now, how he liked you and wanted me to help him get you with him.“ you almost chocked on air.

“What?“ Your jaw might’ve hit the concrete the very second you heard this. You slouched closer to your friends face, you felt like you were having problems with your hearing. She must be drunk out of her mind too and probably confused something. The party was set so Jeno’s friend could confess his feeling to someone.

Jeno’s…. Friend…

You gulped and grabbed Eunsoo’s forearm mercilessly in an attempt to not drop dead on the floor. Haechan made his friend set a whole damn party so he would tell you he likes you? He could’ve done it literally anywhere and you still would’ve reacted the same way.

Your heart ached, you were torn apart. One half of you wanted to run after Haechan, maybe it wasn’t too late and he’d take you back. Your other half wanted to hear what else Eunsoo had to say. You repeated. “What?“ Why was Eunsoo slowing down with her talking?

“Haechan likes you. He didn’t mistake you with anybody. He wanted you to be his girlfriend for some time now. I was his meddler and thought he'll be able to do the only thing that was left on him, but seems like he didn’t.“ She sighed again, disappointed.

“I-, no.“ your head jerked back.

“Huh?“ your friend wrinkled her forehead.

“He did talk to me, on the boat.“ you admitted, playing with your lower lip between your teeth.

“Okay, then what did he talk to you about when the two of you were outside, on the boat?“ Eunsoo's head turned a little to the side.

“What?“ You blinked slowly. "You know of that too? you decided to give her a proper sentence.

“Jeno and I guarded the doors like trained dogs on a watch so you two would have some private time and this scaredy cat would open up his cards to you.“ her eyes rolled.

“You set me up with Haechan on purpose?“ You finally asked scandalised.

“You two got seemingly closer dur-“ she scoffed, ready to tell her motives.

“But you hated his guts?“ You exclaimed. “All of you did! Aeri, Sua, you. Ya’ll talked shit and looked at him like he was a piece of trash.“ it's definitely not something you've imagined.

“When did I? Girls - maybe. Me? Never!“ her finger pressed against her chest.

“I hid from you for so long that we were seeing each other because I thought you despised him. And you’re saying I should’ve not?“ tears once again were trying to flood your eyes.

“You two were seeing each other?“ Eunsoo's hand raised to cover her mouth.

“Yeah, didn’t you help him? Didn’t he tell you?“ your brows furrowed in confusion, didn't she literally say they were texting behind your back?

“No! He literally said he liked you for a while and during the project he might’ve fallen in love. Begged me to help him, I only did so because you two seemed friendly working on that paper. You’ve been dating? In secret? Because you thought I hated him? That’s silly!“ Wait, Haechan acted like he didn't actually know you besides the project? He was so much better than anyone could've ever thought of him, you didn't even deserve him and he's been going out of his way this whole time to please you.

“I don’t understand.“ you blinked blindly.

“Me neither. Why did you push him away like that if you like him back?“ Eunsoo washed away the shock, putting to work her critical thinking. She looked at you attentively, probably pitying you somewhere along the way.

“How did you know he liked me before I did?“ your eyes focused on her.

“I knew he was down bad for you the moment he said he’ll pay your share in the renting of the boat just so you would come. He was practically on his knees to shut everyone’s mouths that he paid for you.” Shit.

“No-“ you blinked away tears.

“I’m sorry, yes, Y/n you’re a fool, he seemed to really like you.“ Eunsoo wrinkled her nose as she pursed her lips.

“But I’m in love with him too?“ tears finally won, blurring your vision.

“Oh-“ you really wanted to know what her face expression was like, reaching a hand and trying to carefully wipe away the tear drops. You would've made a joke how you cautiously had waterproof mascara on if you were'nt completely shattered.

“Maybe I should go after him.“ you chewed on your lip, the wheels turning in your head at your options.

“Ugh, yeah, you definitely should.“

“Okay.“

“Just text me, if things turn out bad, I’ll be there for you.“ You gave her a nod and sprinted away to the exit.

The ride to Haechan’s place took a nanosecond. Maybe it did because you were agonising like crazy in the backseat of the car and every red light made your foot tap with the speed of light, making an annoying sound in the otherwise quiet car.

The driver gave you a look through the rare view mirror. Not more than a few blocks away from the destination the driver made up the words to ask if you were perhaps late somewhere and you had to let out a very big puff of air to give the man a polite no, instead of a very brief but very colourful discourse how your love life, and maybe even entire life, was at risk this very moment and the longer it took for him to move the foot to the gas pedal, the higher the risks were raising. 

You couldn’t remember whether you walked those flights up the stairs or got to the needed floor by elevator, you just remembered how you undid the seatbelt the moment your eyes recognised the building and your feet stomped the ground even before the car made a full stop.

You wiped your trembling fingers off your sides and with the same tremble rang the doorbell. It was silent in the building, given it being around midnight during holiday season, everyone probably returned home for Christmas or was still partying the night away. It was just you and your broken heart, that you smashed with your own hands. You pressed the doorbell once again - what were the odds that Haechan left the party to go back home? What were the odds that he went somewhere else to drawn his sorrow in alcohol, what if he went to drawn his sorrow in someone else?

A single idea of him being with someone else made you sick, your fingers pressed the doorbell vigorously, trying to get to him even if he wasn’t there. If he’s just choosing to ignore you, he’ll get pissed off from that continuous ringing in a minute, you just needed him to be home. 

Maybe the doorbell wasn’t loud enough? Even though you could very clearly hear it on this side of the door, maybe it was set up incorrectly and he couldn’t hear it from his bedroom. Thinking of the way his room was pretty far from the entrance, you banged on the door, first your fists shy of the noise they were making, but as your eyes began to burn with hot tears and you were losing your last bits of composure and hope that you’ll see him tonight - or ever again, you began to properly bang your palms on that door.

“Please, open the door. I’m so wrong, I’m so sorry. I don’t want you to ever hurt, please, Haechan. I love you. I’m honest, I do.“ You wiped the tears because you didn’t like the way they tasted on your tongue. “Just give me one last chance, please.“ You smashed the door with your palm repeatedly with no hope. It really felt like the end. You slid down the door, covering your face in your palms to just cry, simply shed tears.

“Do you mind?“ A voice disturbed you not even five minutes later and you jumped up in pure fear, you weren’t trying to get yourself arrested for noise complain or anything like that, but as your head lifted and your swollen eyes were able to see, you realised it was Haechan. He was pointing at the door, his own eyes a little puffy, lost and hurt. The face expression he wore didn’t change one single bit from the moment you pushed him away. 

“Ah-, Haech-.“ you jumped up, to get as close to him as he'd allow you to.

“That’s my door, I’d like to get inside.“ he showed no emotion and no interest in you. Like a random stranger suddenly blocked his apartment's door.

“I love you.“ You didn’t have a single clue, what else were you supposed to tell him except for the most important thing. 

“Just. Don’t.“ he moved more towards the door and you took a step back, letting him get to it. It would definitely be better if you solved all your problems inside his apartment.

“I’m so sorry.“ The door opened and Haechan took a step in, you walked behind him, as your foot touched the tile at the entrance of his apartment he stopped and made you touch his back with your face. Haechan turned around and casted you with a disdainful stare. 

“Who are you again? The girlfriend Y/n or the I hate his guts Y/n? I’m sorry, I can’t really keep up with all those personalities even though I’m the gemini here, I’m supposed to change my preferences every day depending on the weather forecast and shit.“ he spat, eyes burning into yours.

“I-, please, I’m so sorry. I’m the girlfriend Y/n, I’m always her, I love you, I swear.“ You cried again.

“Take a step back, please, I want to be left alone. I’m tired.“ Haechan stretched his neck, giving you a clear enough hint that he was tired and wished to belt alone.

“We can go to sleep, together, and talk in the morning.“ you tried.

“No, I’m tired of you.“ the way he enunciated the 'you' made the ground beneath your feet spin.

“Haechan, please.“ you whispered, hopeless.

“Leave my apartment or I’m reporting you to police for invading a private property.“ even the tone of his voice changed, he tried to lower it to sound more threatening and make you leave him the fuck alone.

“Don’t be ridiculous." you scoffed at first. "You’re not going to do that and I can’t leave like that. I can’t lose you just like that.“

“Okay, I did ask nicely.“ Haechan’s eyes rolled back a little, his tongue popping his cheek in annoyance. You watched all of his motions attentively, his body still blocking you from properly walking in and closing the door.

He found his phone in the pocket of the jeans he wore and as he began to type in 119 with one of his hands, he gave you one last chance. Haechan's other hand pressed into the slope of his apartment door, to push you out of his place. You pulled back your body, but your foot still stood firmly inside his apartment and you leaned your body against the opposite slope of the door. You couldn't stop thinking how done he was with you, it took him less than a minute to decide on his actions.

“It���s my last warning-“ Haechan tried to warn you once again. It would in fact get him in trouble if someone actually gets here and sees you two are just a couple fighting. 

“I won’t leave. I need to talk to you.“ you were certain he'd back away.

“Okay, fuck it.“ and you were so wrong, Haechan definitely pressed call as you could hear the rings in the dead silence.

They picked up on the third ring and presumably middle aged woman asked what was the emergency. “I just got back home and there is a girl at my doorstep.“ You could hear her asking for him to continue, but he paused and stared you in the eyes, making you hypnotised with how his eyes blinked slowly and all you wanted to do was lean into him, knowing damn well he’ll refuse you. “I tried to get in, but she tried to get inside my apartment with me. Now she refuses to leave.“

“I won’t leave.“ You shook your head no confirming, because he looked at you like he was asking if he was saying the right things. He most definitely was, fear tingled in your chest, you were curious what the outcome would be, but also you were ready to go to jail if that meant Haechan would forgive you.

“No, she doesn’t seem to have any weapons on her.“ He looked at you from head to toe like you were a real stranger. You raised both your hands up to play along and let him see better. “No, she’s maybe in her late?“ he looked at you once again confused and you scrunched your brows at the suggestion that you were older than you actually were “no, more seems like early twenties.“ You gave him an approving nod. “Yes, I did try to talk with her. She doesn’t tell me why she’s here.“ You mouthed ‘liar’ at that. You told him very clearly why came here in the first place“But she says she’s not planning on leaving.“ You could hear the lady ask Haechan if you seemed in danger and were looking for a safe place. “Are you in danger?“

“No.“ You said out loud for the lady to hear. Haechan licked his lips, you were feeling hot. It was hard for you to distinguish if it was due to his stare on you, your winter coat on inside the building or guilt, hurt and love all burning inside of you. You heard the operator saying she’ll send his way a police officer, but he’ll probably take about an hour to get here and if he can, he should try to get the person out himself. Haechan nodded and hung up.

“So, are you leaving now or want police to escort you out of here?“ Haechan’s phone dropped onto the drawer next to the entrance. 

“I’m not leaving, until you’re talking to me, so no thank you, I’ll wait for police.“ you scoffed, the atmosphere definitely shifted. You definitely didn't feel like you lost him. More like both you were hypnotised by each other and also curious - what would happen next and how far each of you is ready to take this.

Haechan sighed, his eyes running over the corridor he could see behind you. “It’s kinda chilly with the door open, wait outside, then.“

“How am I waiting outside, when you just told that lovely lady that I’m inside your apartment.“ Haechan leaned back a little and you took it as a chance to properly walk in.

“Yeah, you’re right for once. Stay here then, not further than this tile square and close the damned door.“ He sighed and walked properly inside, as you closed the door. Haechan turned around once more, to check if you didn’t move - you didn’t, at least not yet. He nodded to himself and walked away.

You stood still, leaning a little against the door. You had no plan. You were inside, but you had no plan. Taking your shoes off, walking in and triggering him further didn't feel like an option, a gut feeling told you he’ll fight you as soon you take a step.

Soon enough you realised that standing there was harder than you imagined, you were tired in your winter clothes while you were tired and emotionally exhausted also didn't sound like a plan. By now your legs were also giving up on you. Your eyes watched Haechan’s phone that he left next to the door and you were wondering what he was doing, because it seemed pretty quiet, no movement you could see or hear.

You wondered if he fell asleep already and bent to unzip your shoes to see for yourself. You straightened your back back up as soon as you heard him open the water. You guessed he went to take a shower. 

God, it was tiring to stand there like a fool, so you slid down the door, making yourself more comfortable against it. Anxiety kinda hit you as you sat down - he did actually call the police on you, an officer could knock on that door at any given minute and you could very realistically be arrested for invading a private property. You blinked multiple times, feeling your mind drift away and fighting hopelessly to not fall asleep under Haechan’s door.

Next thing you felt - someone pulling on your arm and you open your eyes in pure agony, first thought thinking it’s the police officer dragging you out to jail, before you realise it’s Haechan. He pulled your arm up and you stood up, realising he undid the zipper on your jacket while you were asleep, since it fell down as you moved on the floor and made you take a few more steps closer to him, which again surprised you - he also somehow mastered to take your shoes off while you were out of it. Your head hurt from this sudden awakening and you couldn’t form any words. It felt like a dream, especially when he lifted you up bridal style and the next thing you knew your head hit the softest pillow that had that strong Haechan scent on it you loved so much.

-

You woke up in Haechan’s bed and immediately rolled over to see if he was on his side of the bed - he wasn’t. You took in the clothes you were wearing - your party outfit all wrinkled, Haechan took enough clothes off you to make you sleep comfortably, you would’ve smiled if you didn’t remember the circumstance you got here. Then you remembered how he called the police and had a panic attack - what if they took him because of a false call? What if he’s not here only because he’s locked up at the police station? 

You swiftly got up, dragging your feet out of the room to look for him in other rooms or at last - check if his shoes were still there. Your eyes dragged over the kitchen, it didn’t seem to have any signs of life, living room also - it was completely empty, no signs of another human being. Until you noticed, a hand very shyly peeked from behind the backrest of the couch, given the couch being not more than a meter and a little long, you couldn’t even imagine what sort of back pain Haechan must be having by now if he slept like that for the entirety of the night. You wanted to pace quietly to see him, but your hand hit the bathroom door handle in motion and somehow the door made the loudest bang against the wall like it had no stopper and you shrivelled up at the noise and prayed that by some superpower Haechan would not wake up from that. There was no superpower though, he jumped up from that couch, scrunching his nose up, his eyes barely open. 

“What the fuck is that?“ He rubbed his eyes, trying to see. Haechan looked so adorable, scrunching his nose, his hair all over the place - literally and his collarbone partially on display because his sleeping shirt was 10 sizes bigger than he is. Your heart ached, you were about to lose this, because you were scared and shy and insecure and in pure honesty just crazy and stupid. “Oh, you’re still here? Why the fuck did you do that?“ Haechan’s hand grabbed onto his head.

“You should’ve left me at the door and went to your bed. The couch’s not good either for your leg or scoliosis.“ Your fingers squeezed the hem of your shirt.

“Yeah, and what would it make me, if I left you at the door and went to bed?“ He scoffed and you nodded, he was completely right. He wasn't someone to do so.

“Okay, I hope you had a good nights sleep. Now, you know where the door is, leave.“ His hand pointed at the door, the boy falling back onto the couch and hitting his head on the armrest and cursing under his breath. 

“I can’t.“ you debated wether or not you should take a step towards him.

“Why is that?“ you couldn't see him behind the backrest.

“I love you.” You admitted, still shy of voicing out your feelings even when it’s just you and him. 

“Well, you’ve got one hell of a funny way to show it.” He snorted and you agreed, he was right about everything.

“I know, I’m so sorry. I panicked, I was stupid, I’m a dumb idiot, but I love you, I can’t not have you with me.“ You took a few steps closer to the couch, when Haechan couldn’t give you an answer. You wanted to see what he was doing and what kind of emotion displayed on his face, if he was pretending to be asleep or was in deep thought or anything else. “Will you-“ you swallowed “Will you talk to me?“ You almost leaned over the couch, when Haechan jumped up and grabbed onto his head, pressing elbows against his knees. 

“Stop torturing me! Don’t you see, don’t you understand? I love you, my feelings aren’t a game. You can’t play around with me, you can’t push and pull me. I’m not 15, we’re not idiot kids to be doing stuff like that! I’m not going to date you in secret, because it only makes me think of one thing." he turned around to look at you. "If you can’t take me seriously, why did you even start this whole thing? Why did you make me believe you liked me too? You should’ve stuck with strictly fucking if that’s all I can get from you.“ he blinked for a moment, turning his back at you once again.

“It’s not! I want more of you, I want all of you.“ you pleaded, walking further so your thighs pressed into the couch.

“I-I, I just can’t believe you anymore. I can’t continuously hope for things to change any more.“ Haechan stood up, facing you, the only thing separating you is the couch. 

“Just this once. I swear, I swear on my life and everything that I am, I won’t ever hurt you again. Just one more chance for me, Hyuck please. I’ll prove to you it’s worth it.“ your eyes flattered, not in a good way. You tried to shush the tears away to not make the situation even messier than it already was.

“And why would I believe you?“ He scoffed, you would scoff at yourself too, whatever reaction he was giving weren’t hurting you - it was all very much deserved by you. The only person that hurt both you and him was you.

“Because it would be the biggest mistake in both our lives, if you won’t. I just know I’ll regret it for life.“ you whispered under your breath. Both of you put in so much work and time to make this happen, what a waste of energy would it be if you didn't try just this last time.

“Okay.“ the world left his mouth with a sigh and at first you didn't even understand he said anything.

“Okay?“ You asked taken aback. “Yes?“ you needed a proper clarification you didn't hallucinate this.

“I said okay.“ Haechan added annoyance to the tone of his voice.

“Ugh- ah- I.“ You malfunctioned with the answer. Were you allowed to give him a hug or needed to prove something to him first? What did he even mean with that okay? That you could go back to what you had before last night? Or he was okay to let you try and prove yourself? You had so many questions and couldn't voice out a single one.

“I’m going to bed.“ You opened your mouth, but no sound came out of you. What were you supposed to do in that moment? Leave, follow him, stay in the living room? Haechan walked around you, clearing his voice. “You can come with me, if you want to stay here.“

Haechan stretched out his limbs on the bed and you could tell he very much hated his couch arrangement. You sat on the corner of the bed shyly. 

“Did police not come last night?“ You asked quietly, in case he fell asleep faster than you expected him to. 

“They did.“ his mouth moved against the pillow, muffling the sound of his voice.

“And what happened?“ you turned your head to see him.

“I was fined an ungodly amount of money and went to sleep.“ Haechan rubbed his cheek against the pillow.

“I’ll pay that-“ you suggested immediately.

“There’s no need, I knew it’ll be like this when I was dialling the number. My decision, I’ll pay for it.“ Haechan's eyes opened, warning you with both his mouth and stare. Closing his eyes back right after.

“I’m sorry for this and for everything else.“ You said, Haechan not answering back, maybe he wanted the conversation to be over. You closed your eyes too, lying down on the farthest side of the bed, you wouldn’t mind a little more sleep too.

“The way you cried last night-“ Haechan cleared his throat. “I don’t want you to ever again to cry like that, because of me.“ You opened your eyes to see him, but Haechan didn’t move nor opened his eyes. “If it hurts you this much to love me, then loving me is a bad thing.“ He stopped and opened his eyes.

“It’s not.“ You couldn’t hold back from him, you moved your body next to his, your face hiding against his chest automatically, getting your arms over Haechan's waist. “Loving you is the best thing that happened in my life.“

-

“Aeri, shut up!“ Eunsoo laughed hysterically, unable to stop herself from throwing her head back. “I’m going to choke on food and you’ll be accountable for it!“ her arm tried to slap the girl, missing and hitting air.

“No, but I swear it looked-“ Aeri leaned in once again, closing her mouth with a free palm mid laughing.

“Oh, look who’s here!“ You exclaimed excitedly, jumping on your feet in an instance. All three girls paused and looked at you.

“Who?“ Sua raised her eyebrows.

“Wait here.“ You gestured with your arms, taking in the scenery of your improvised picnic during lunch time and gave yourself a nod, moving your legs quickly, to cross the green area and get to the sidewalk before it’s too late.

“Hey“ you jumped over the low fence and almost smashed your shoulder into Jaemin. “Hi, hello.“ 

“Hello?“ Jaemin took a bewildered look at you. By all means, who wouldn’t. You did look like an emergency was happening and you ran for help. 

“Hi.“ You gave a little smile to Jaemin and moved your attention and body towards Haechan. “Hi, Hyuck.“ You smiled, repeating yourself and took a step closer to the boy.

“Hi.“ He looked at you casually, not sparing a second glance at whatever you wanted to tell the both of them. 

“What’s the matter?“ Jaemin asked, when you two looked at each other closely. You took one small step towards Haechan and pecked the corner of his mouth, grabbing onto his fingers for support. Haechan smirked satisfied, returning the kiss to your lips with a barely there peck, finally looking at you properly. 

“Oh-“ Jaemin finally made a sound.

“Do you mind if I steal you for a minute?“ You asked sweetly, Haechan lacing his fingers with yours with a nod, you smiled wider and put one more hand above his to drag him behind you. 

“I’ll get back in a sec.“ Haechan addressed Jaemin, and his friend smirked at him mischievously, giving him a nod. “Hey, where are we going?“ Haechan pulled at your hand a little, when you made him jump over the low fence to get back on the grass. 

“You’ll see in a minute.“ You half whispered excitedly. You'd lie if you said you weren't tad bit nervous. 

“Okay.“ He chuckled amused, walking behind you.

“What are you doing?“ Sua asked confused as you two approached your friend group, your hands hidden behind your back. You weren’t sure they were able to see what you did back at the sidewalk, so they did probably wonder why you sprinted off like that and dragged Haechan back with you. He stopped inappropriately close behind and you wondered if it was already too obvious what you were trying to do.

“Why did you run away?“ Aeri still asked, oblivios to the situation.

“What is this?“ your friends began to drop questions all at once.

“I would like you to meet-“ you began calmly.

“Dude, we met Haechan before“ Aeri cut you off in friendly confusion.

“Why you’re being weird?“ Sua laughed too.

“Shh, let’s hear her out.“ Eunsoo smirked like crazy and despite that you gave her an appreciative nod. 

“I would like you all to meet my boyfriend-“ you turned around to look at the boy that tried to hide his smile with biting his tongue and failing terribly, only to hear a loud gasp and an even more shocked choked cough from your friends. “This is Haechan.“ 

“Oh. My. God.“ Sua closed her mouth with her palm. You didn’t know what exactly you were expecting to hear from her, but in that moment you realised you couldn’t care less. Nothing would change your love for Haechan. His palm crawled over your waist in a soothing motion, but you didn’t even need that, you were completely fine. “This is so fucking shocking, but so fucking cool!“ She finally finished her sentence and that was when you actually needed Haechan’s hand on your waist to hold you in place, because you were so shocked at the response your body pressed against his as it lost balance. “Congrats to you Haechan, scoring our number one girly must’ve been a hard job.“ Sua teased, making you absolutely flabbergasted. 

“It was, in fact, exhausting.“ He nodded his head in full agreement. "And cost me a lot of money." he teased, making you think of the fine he paid. 

Your eyes travelled to Eunsoo,who just beamed. It was really her merit, if she didn’t partake in all this, you would quite literally never be able to do this. Hold Haechan's hand and address him as your boyfriend. 

“Wow, that’s so bizarre.“ Aeri sighed still confused. “Congrats to you two! Now I need to know all the details. When did you two start dating? Oh my god, we were talking shit about your boyfriend this whole time. Did you two start dating before or after your project?“

“Aeri, shh!“ Eunsoo tried to stop the girl with popping questions. You were so overwhelmed by their reaction, you wanted to break down and cry. They were sweet and understanding and happy for you and you couldn't understand how you didn’t want to tell these lovely souls before, that you were having the greatest time of your life with Haechan. 

“I got food for you too, will you lunch with us?“ You turned around to face Haechan properly. His fingers played with yours instead of an answer.

“Mmh, sure. I’ll call Jaemin to eat with us, okay?“ he smiled, squeezing your waist in his hand.

“Of course, your friend’s my friend.“ You stretched your mouth in a smile that Haechan couldn’t hold back from kissing. 

“Ew!“ Sua exclaimed immediately. “Not in front of my plate, nasty people. I’m insufferably lonely, don’t rub it in my face, thanks.“ She sighed exasperatedly. 

Haechan smiled mischievously, running his tongue over his teeth, the very next moment grabbing onto your neck and peppering kisses all over your mouth. You tried to push him off you mid laughing, loudest screams coming from your friends behind your back.  

fin

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[thetriumphantpanda]

i don't really wanna fight, 'cause nobody's gonna win | javier peña

Take The Weight Off His Shoulders - Chapter Eight

Chapter Summary | A little slice of domesticity wasn't ever going to be enough to cover the stress of the story unfolding on your desk, but it was worth a shot right?

Chapter Warnings | Mentions of drugs and the drug trade, work frustrations, explicit smut, fingering, unprotected PiV smut, creampie, dirty talk, we ride this man like our LIFE depends on it and some ANGST (I'm sorry, it had to happen sometime.)

Pairing | dbf!Javier Peña x F!Reader

Word Count | 3.2k

Authors Note | OOOOOF okay we're back with these two. Real life has been kicking my ass so I'm sorry this took so long - but we're moving into the tail end of this now so prepare yourselves for even more drama! Thank you for being so patient with me and waiting for this - I hope you enjoy it. If you are enjoying this then reblogs and comments really do help and if you’d like to support me further, please consider a donation to my Ko-Fi. 

I no longer use taglists. Please follow @thetriumphantpandanotifs to be notified of new updates.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi | Series Playlist

The words on the deed to the drug den in town are all forming into one - you’re not actually sure they’re in the English language anymore. You’ve been staring at the pages for what feels like a full week, even if you’d only spread them out for reading on your desk this morning. You don’t know what to do. There is, of course, the obvious option, of walking right up to their front door and asking what the hell is going on, but the more you dig, the more you think there’s something bigger going on here.

You pour over your notes, trying to make sense of it all. It was nothing to do with Tyler Johnson, but it had something to do with his family, that was for sure. There’s no way that this whole thing would have been brushed under the rug and dealt with by the police saying ‘oh well, we don’t know’ if there wasn’t something incriminating behind it all. You tried not to think about that possibly meaning your dad was implicated somewhere along the line.

Instead of sitting around and feeling useless, considering the words on the page weren’t leading you anywhere at all, you tidy up your desk, stick your head around your managers door to tell her you were heading out for the story, and you get in your car and drive.

They lead such dull lives, is all you can really think at this point. The sun is setting and it’s finally starting to cool a little. The thought process had been simple, if you weren’t going to catch them in the act on paper, you would have to catch them in the act for real - whatever that act might be.

You’d started with Tyler’s dad, following behind him as he went about mayoral business, driving from his office to some meeting in town and then back again. You’d waited an hour in the parking lot to see if he moved again, but gave up after a while. Deciding on following Tyler’s brother instead - but he’d been more of the same. You’d found him getting into his car at work once the day was done, driving to the grocery store and then going home. That was it. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Thinking about it, what would you even do if you did find them doing something? Tyler’s brother getting a package handed to him down a dark alley - there’s no way to get any proof, you don’t have a camera, and no-one’s going to believe you against them. The more you sit there, the more you think maybe you should have taken the story at face value, published it and moved on.

You suppose that these kinds of operations take time and patience - two things you were running seriously low on by now. You’re thinking of all the time’s Javi must have needed to do this - sitting around in a car waiting to catch someone doing something and wondered how he’d lasted so long. You weren’t made for this kind of work.

Sighing to yourself, you turn the key in the ignition and head home, trying not to let the frustration bubble over. You just had to wait. Bide your time. Surely somewhere along the line you’d catch someone doing something.

“You look stressed.”

You look at Javi through your eyelashes, taking a sip from the glass of wine in front of you on the counter. Your parents were taking their two week annual vacation - some place near the coast in Florida. You remember going when you were little, playing in the sand and swimming. They’d invited you this year but now you were older, it didn’t hold quite the same amount of charm as it used to, so you’d opted to stay at home.

The upside to not getting to lounge in the sun for two weeks was definitely this though. Javier Peña, hunched over the hob, sleeves of his shirt rolled up, cooking dinner for you. It was dangerous to think about how domestic it was, but you couldn’t deny how nice it felt. There was no-one to lie to about why you were late home from work for now, no need to rush through whatever it was that the two of you were doing.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t need to be sorry,” He smiles at you, picking up his beer bottle to drink from, “You want to talk about it?”

You shake your head, “It’s alright, just stuff at work.”

“In all my years of working with journalists,” He speaks, stirring the pot of sauce in front of him, “I don’t think any of them were ever as stressed as you.”

“I just care about my work.”

“So did they,” He counters, picking a strand of spaghetti from the pot to test to see if it’s cooked, “Just trying to say there isn’t a story out there worth getting this worked up over.”

“I appreciate it,” You mumble, “But can we not talk about work?”

He holds his hands up in surrender, focusing his attention on dishing up the food - spaghetti with tomato sauce. It’s simple and you know it’s probably the limit of his cooking ability outside of being able to grill meat on fire, but it’s the thought that counts. You sit at the dining table and eat together, talking about nothing really, just enough to fill the silence. Even though he cooked, he insists on clearing up and packaging the leftovers for you to eat tomorrow.

You sit and watch TV on the couch and when it gets late enough and your head starts to rest on his shoulder, Javi asks if you want to go to bed.

“I do,” You answer, “But not to sleep.”

So he slowly leads you up the stairs and into your room, softly closing the door behind him. You settle yourself under your sheets, pushing them back on the other side for him as he takes off everything he’s wearing apart from his underwear and gets into bed with you. He shuffles you around so your back in pressed to his front, his big hands wandering from your hips up to your chest, where he gently cups one of your tits in his hands over the shirt you’re wearing.

You can feel his mouth trailing kissing up your shoulder until he reaches the delicate skin behind your ear, the tickle of his facial hair there making goosebumps rise on your skin, regardless of how warm it is under your sheets.

“What do you want?” He whispers softly, snaking his free arm under your neck so the side of your face is pillowed against it.

You don’t answer, you just take hold of his wrist, dragging his hand from your chest to the waistband of your shorts. You let his hand go then, feeling his big palm cup you through the material, “Like this?” He asks, teeth nipping at your ear lobe.

“No,” You shake your head, “Under.”

That big hand drags up just a little, fingers finding the waistband again, dipping below this time. He tuts into your ear when he finds you bare, having not bothered with underwear when you’d changed out of your work clothes.

His hand is warm against your skin as it envelops you again, fingers dipping ever so slightly between the folds of your pussy to find you already wet, it doesn’t take much at all when he’s around.

Fingers dragging through the slick, up to circle your clit, he speaks again, “Like this?” He asks, feather-light touches of his fingers making you gasp.

“Y-yeah,” You choke out, “Just like that.”

So that’s what he does - let’s you rest your head against his arm, lazily rolling his finger across that bundle of nerves like he has all the time in the world for making you feel good. It’s slow, the only punctuation to his fingers are the moans he lets out into your ear whenever he pushes his hips against the plush of your ass, his bulge prominent against the clothes that are separating you.

“I want you to come for me,” He whispers gently a little while later, teeth biting gently into the skin of your shoulder, “Can you be a good girl and do that for me?”

You nod your head, unable to speak through the short, sharp gasps that the friction between your legs is drawing out from you. He speeds up a little, lets his finger add more pressure there. He lets you roll your hips, chasing at the high that is just there, coiling in your tummy. Your body starts to shake, thighs clamping down on his hands as he brings you over the edge.

“Fuck yeah,” He rasps into your ear, “So fucking pretty when you come for me, mi querida.”

Through the haze of pleasure, you can feel him rolling you over, pressing your back into the sheets. He’s settling between your thighs, pulling your shorts off altogether, but you don’t want it like this, so you press a palm to his warm chest to stop him.

“I want…” You trail off, “I think I want to be on top.”

You watch his eyebrows raise a little but he doesn’t protest, because of course he doesn’t, he simply lies himself back down on his side of the bed and waits for you. You let yourself straddle his thighs, marvelling just a little at the bulge of his underwear, before you’re hooking your fingers into the waistband to drag them just far enough down his thighs to let his cock spring free, resting on his lower stomach.

Shuffling up his thighs a little, you lower yourself, letting your soaked folds drag across his length whilst your mouth moves up to suckle at the skin of his neck. You can feel his hands on the globes of your ass, helping to drag you up and down his cock.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” He asks as you moan when the head of his cock brushes against your still-sensitive clit.

You don’t have any words, so you press yourself up, palms against his chest as you lift your hips just enough for him to reach between you, base of his cock fisted in his hand, to nudge at the weeping hole of your cunt. He holds it there for you as you slowly start to sink down onto him, moaning with your head thrown back at the stretch of taking him inside. When you reach the bottom, feeling him sucked right into the depths of you, you stay still, rolling your hips a little, feeling him so deep inside you.

Javi brings his hands to your hips, looking up at you as he guides your movements, slow forwards movements matched with even slower movements backwards, until the two of you are panting together.

You push yourself back, letting your arms fall behind you onto his knees, which have come up to rest against your backside, slowly starting to lift off him until he’s almost all the way out of the tight heat of your cunt, then you slide back down onto him, finding a rhythm of bouncing up and down on his cock.

Javi moves one of his hands from your hips, letting the flat palm run up your stomach, through the valley of your tits to lightly grip at the base of your neck. He doesn’t add any pressure, just holds his hand there, but you can feel the effect it has on you, pussy clenching around his length as you continue to bounce up and down on him.

“Look so fucking pretty like this,” He manages to choke out between moans, “Like you were made to be right here bouncing on my cock.”

“I-I think I’m g-gonna come again.” You hiss, feeling that familiar tightening in your tummy.

“Yeah?” He goads, but not unkindly, “You gonna come around my cock for me?”

To help you get there, Javi starts to thrust up into you, hand still at the base of your neck, hitting into your perfectly on your downward motion to fill you right to your depths, making your orgasm hit you head on. You feel yourself tighten around him, body collapsing forward to rest against his chest as he fucks you through the aftershocks of your climax, gripping onto your ass to keep you spread so he can find his own high, thrusting a handful of times before he’s stilling inside you, spilling himself inside with moans right into your ear.

He slips out of you as he softens, shifting you so you’re led down, both catching your breath.

“Sorry, I should have asked about that.” He mumbles, and it takes you a minute to realise he’s talking about coming inside you.

“It’s okay,” You say, turning your head to smile at him, “Although it does mean I have to go to the bathroom now.”

You drag yourself up onto all fours onto your bed, dragging yourself to the door to cover yourself in your robe before you leave Javi in your room to head to the bathroom.

He doesn’t know why he does it. In hindsight, it was out of order, but when you close the door behind you, he can’t help himself. He stands up, pulls his underwear back up and puts the rest of his clothes back on. Then he sits down on your edge of the bed and gingerly opens the top drawer of your bedside table.

There’s nothing much of note in there, a few lip balms and an old notebook, but that’s it. He opens the bottom one next, which is much more full, mainly with notebooks and sheets of paper. He knows he shouldn’t, but he reaches in and picks the first up, flicking it open to a random page somewhere in the middle, running his thumb across a loose sheet of paper before his eyes circle in on what the paper actually is.

It’s a newspaper article, reporting on Escobar’s death. When Javi looks underneath the paper there are notes written in your handwriting, detailing parts of the story that are interesting. He flicks to another page, another article about Escobar dying, with more of your handwritten notes. He can feel the panic rising in his chest, threatening to take hold of his throat.

He puts that notebook on the bed, reaches in and picks another up, flicking through to find more of the same - articles about the entire Escobar case, more handwritten notes - some written in red ink that only ever say his name with a question mark, like you’re asking yourself if he was responsible for the ill-reported heroics. Javi is too caught up in flicking through that he forgets about your return, letting you catch him red-handed when you come back through the door.

“What are you doing?” You ask, making him look up.

Your eyes are wide, like you’re shocked to find him with your notebooks in his lap.

“What’s all this?” He asks, instead of answering your question.

You surge forward, grabbing the notebook from his lap, slapping it shut, picking up the other one and then shoving them back in the drawer, “Did you go through my things?” He can tell from your tone that you’re worked up.

“Why do you have all of that?” Javi asks, standing up from the bed to take some steps away from you.

“It’s not what you think.”

“Well then tell me what it is.” He’s getting more annoyed as the moments go past.

“It was for my degree,” You say, shifting from foot-to-foot, “I don’t understand what the problem is?”

“The problem is, it’s all fucking lies!” He runs a hand over his face, more annoyed at himself for shouting at you than anything else, “It’s all fucking lies and you believe it.”

He watches as your face drops, he can see the glassing over of your eyes, “I-” You try to speak, “I’m sorry?” It’s more of an offering, like you don’t know what else to do.

“All of that shit?” He asks, pointing to the now closed drawer, “Fucking propaganda for this country to seem like it had control, when all it fucking did was make everything worse.”

“Javi, please,” You beg now, taking a step towards him with your hands open in surrender, “Why don’t you sit down and take a breath?”

He can feel himself shaking his head, stepping backwards until he can feel the handle of your door, twisting it to open. He thinks he’s saying sorry, telling you that he’s sorry, but he doesn’t know. All he knows is that he has to get out of there and away from you, almost running from the house and into his truck.

It’s not until he’s halfway to home that he can feel that panic take over, pulling over on the side of the road, knuckles turning white as he grips the steering wheel. He takes some deep breaths, trying to understand why his brain has gone from 0-100 so quickly, and all he can think of is that you’re just like everyone else in this damn town, thinking that he was a hero, that he’d played his part properly, correctly, in bringing that bastard down. I’d the wondering about what you’d think of him if you knew what he’d really done, the amount of blood actually on his hands, the fact he wasn’t here there when Murphy shot the bastard.

It’s that feeling of inadequacy that haunt him in bed that night, led against the pillows, other side cold and empty when all he wishes is that he’d stayed, let you curl into him so that he could get at least a few hours of rest. Even though he never stays the night, always leaving you with a press of lips to your head, the small hours of the morning where you’re sleeping against him are the most peaceful he thinks he’s ever had.

So, staring at his ceiling, red numbers from his clock staring him down as the hours pass, all he can think about it what the fuck he’s going to do, how he’s going to explain that this has nothing to do with you and what it had to do with your degree, and everything to do with the way he thinks if you knew exactly what had happened, outside of what the American press has told you, you’d probably hate him.

[starlightvld]

Bait & Switch, pt. 5

<< Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6 >>

Based on "I wasn't in that tunnel."

Call of Duty, soapghost // CW: angst, Hurt/Comfort, boys kissing, MWIII spoilers

---

Johnny is floating. For the first time in forever, he feels safe.

Held.

Warm.

He stays in limbo as long as he can, eking out every ounce of comfort from the rare good dream. He knows soon enough he'll wake to an ice-cold cell. Perhaps someone will come to torture him. Or perhaps they'll leave him alone long enough that he'll starve.

Until then, he basks. Digs himself deeper into the warmth pressed against him.

"Easy, Johnny. You've got too many wires pokin' outta you to move around so much."

That voice. He knows that voice.

Soap's eyes pop open to a wall of hospital gown fabric and a sliver of pale skin. Familiar warm arms curl around him a bit more tightly, and his heart stutters.

"G-Ghost?"

"I'm here."

Everything comes rushing back — "waking up" from his drug-induced haze with a knife in his hand, Ghost's initial distrust and coldness, and the revelations about his own actions and the years of his life and bodily autonomy stolen by Makarov...

He remembers Ghost's sudden apology, his vow to help Soap figure out what was going on, and his gentle arms surrounding Soap just like he remembered.

It's a dream. It has to be. Some trick by Makarov.

And yet Ghost is so warm. So strong.

He can't bear the thought of going back now.

"Simon." His voice shakes as the panic sets in, thrashing around inside him and threatening to shred him to ribbons from the inside. "Don't let him take me back. Promise ye'll kill me if ye have to. I can't... I can't... I can't—"

The sob that had been stuck in his throat when Simon first curled strong arms around him and held him close rises up to choke him, but his eyes remain stubbornly dry. He coughs and gags, and Ghost's hands stroke down his back as he murmurs soothing words in Soap's ear.

It doesn't matter. The tears won't come. Crying was weakness to Makarov and especially to his goons, punishable by the worst kinds of torture. As he's done hundreds, maybe thousands, of times before, he begins to float away, dissociating from the pain on instinct, but Simon's hard tone slams him back into his body.

"He'll never come near you again," Simon growls in his ear. "Not as long as I'm alive."

"You... believe I'm me?"

"Your DNA matches the records for John MacTavish. That's good enough for me."

He doesn't have time to process the shock of that revelation before then next one hits him fast and hard.

"And it's good enough for us, too."

The additional voice is so wobbly, Soap barely recognizes it. He lifts his head to find wide, watery brown eyes under a familiar blue hat staring at him over Ghost's shoulder.

"Gaz?" Soap whispers in disbelief.

"Hey-ya, bruv. I brought someone else with me, too."

Gaz steps to the side, and a familiar mutton chops and boonie hat come into view. Price's eyes are dry, but there's a deep sadness his ice-blue gaze as he reaches over Ghost to lay a loose hand on Soap's shoulder.

"Soap... I don't really know what to say beyond I'm sorry. It's good to see you again."

The emotions rise up too high. He feels himself detach from the moment, and without the strong emotions to cloud his mind, all he can think to say is, "Why? Why are ye here? I tried... Ghost said I tried to kill you."

"We're here because it's you, Soap," Gaz says in a gentle but confused tone. "Even if you were still trying to kill us, we'd be here doing our best to figure out how to save you. I just wish..."

"We didn't know," Price says as Gaz trails off. "We should've tried to harder to capture Agent Zero. If we'd known it was you, we would have—"

"Not important," Ghost interrupts. "We're all here now, and we're not lettin' the brass get their hands on you."

"Ghost—"

"No Laswell. He's been through enough. Talkin' is one thing, but no interrogations."

It's too much. The words thrown around Soap devolve into mutters and hums as he detaches from the moment. After his time with Makarov, the dissociation comes naturally. He floats away, and...

This moment is everything he ever dreamed about in those dark days under Makarov's thumb. But it's also overwhelming for someone who hasn't felt a kind touch in literal years. He's so glad Price and Gaz proved him wrong, but it's just... 

So. Much.

"—nny? You awake?"

Ghost's voice calls him back, and like always, he can't resist. Doesn't want to. He flutters his lids, the dryness of his eyes letting him know he'd fallen into himself with this eyes open. No wonder the fingers gripping his back feel a bit desperate. He closes his eyes without meeting Ghost's gaze.

"Aye," he whispers. "Here."

"I think we should let Ghost and Soap rest," Price says with a soft, sad smile. "You've both got a lot of healing up to do."

*

Laswell does what she can, but the brass still insist on sending someone to "evaluate" Soap, whatever that means. The evaluator in question, some Major or another, is set to arrive in three days, and Ghost has already made it known to Laswell that he won't be letting Soap out of his sight.

Normally, Soap would be concerned and might even start down the path of spiraling into a panic attack, but he finds he can't be bothered when he wakes up on his second day in the hospital in a pool of his own sweat. Shivers run up and down his spine, and he groans as the body aches slam into him like a tank. Only Ghost's presence and warmth keeps him from panicking at the too-familiar symptoms.

"They're weanin' you off the drugs," Ghost explains in a calm tone, his hands gently rubbing over Soap's damp back. "Tell me if I'm hurtin' you."

"Doesnae hurt," he slurs. "Feels nice."

Ghost's hands are a lifeline, the touch grounding him to the present. There's no way his brain could concoct such an elaborate dream.

Right?

The beeping of the heart monitor picks up its pace. One of Ghost's hands slides up to smooth over his buzzed hair.

"Johnny? Hey. You're alright, love."

"Is it real?" he gasps as his vision begins to darken. "Are ye real? Please..."

Arms tighten around him. Ghost's lips brush over his temple.

"I'm here. I'm real. Breathe with me, Sergeant."

The title rings through Soap's body like a bell as Ghost takes a deep breath, his chest rising under Soap's cheek. Soap takes a strangled breath, too, desperate to follow his Lt's directions. Desperate to make sure Ghost stays.

"That's it. Another."

They breathe together, and eventually, the darkness fades.

"Sorry," he mumbles into Ghost's chest.

"No reason to be sorry. I'd be more surprised — and worried — if you didn't have a screw loose after everythin' you've been through."

Soap huffs a weak laugh. "Thanks, I think."

"You're already doin' better than I was in your place, though it was only months for me, and not..."

Ghost trails off. He's never really talked about his time with the cartel in Mexico. Soap knows the basics — caught, tortured, escaped — but he doesn't know the details.

Doesn't really need to anymore. 

"I get flashes of stuff here and there," Soap says with a shrug, "but I only remember those first few months clearly. Right up until Makarov started pumping me full of these fucking drugs."

As if on cue, another shiver wracks Soap's body. He can feel the sweat building between them as his body attempts to deal with the withdrawal. And yet he's still so fucking cold.

"Sorry I'm such a scabby bastard right now," he mumbles even as he tries to scoot closer to Ghost's warmth.

"Nowt to worry about. I'm no spring flower myself. They're gonna let me shower today, I think, so I'll make 'em let you, too."

Ghost continues rubbing his hands over Soap's damp back, and his lips press into Soap's forehead. The hands and lips remind him of better times, when they'd steal a few hours whenever they could to learn and relearn each other's bodies while desperately chasing release. Soap dares to lift his hand from between them and curl it around Ghost's waist.

"I missed ye so fucking much."

The words slip out unbidden, barely more than a whisper, but there's no way Ghost doesn't hear them. His hands pause for a moment before moving again to press Soap closer.

"I felt dead without you," Ghost whispers back.

A heaving gasp punches through Soap's lungs. "Ghost—"

Ghost gently pushes Soap back enough that he can look into his eyes. "I mean it. The thought of killin' Makarov was the only thing keepin' me movin'... until now."

Soap can't help himself. He knows he's gross and dirty and was trying to fucking kill Ghost a couple of days ago, but he's desperate for the familiar comfort.

He surges up and presses their mouths together.

It's like a flipping a switch — Ghost goes from gentle and calm to ravenous in a split second. His fingers dig into Soap's neck, pulling him closer, while his other arm crushes Soap around the waist. Their mouths meld together, and Soap clings to Ghost just as hard, yearning to climb inside him and never come out again.

God. God, he wants to never leave the safety of Ghost's arms, his presence, his warmth.

The kiss ends as quickly as it began. Ghost pulls back and presses his lips to Soap's cheek and then his brow, panting breaths wafting across Soap's clammy skin.

"I... fuck Johnny. I'm sorry."

"Why're you sorry? I kissed ye first."

"Because you're not feelin' good."

Soap frowns. "Yer the one with the gunshot wound."

Ghost huffs a breathy laugh. "And I'm feelin' it, too. You should sleep more."

"So should you."

Ghost grunts his agreement. They settle down, and Soap listens as Ghost's breathing evens out. It's a comfort, and he lets himself fall into the rhythmic sounds.

The longer this goes on, the less Soap questions whether it's real and the more he begins to worry about the future.

Soap is pretty sure the higher ups will never send him back to England. They'll wait until Ghost's back is turned, and they'll take him somewhere far away where he can be locked up and interrogated the proper way. Or perhaps they'll try to draw out Makarov by sending him somewhere as bait... along with enough C4 strapped to his back to blow up a building.

Or maybe they'll just kill him outright, deeming him too much of a risk for any of that.

He'll fight it, of course. But he's only one man against the might of the British military. And despite the 141's trust in her, Laswell is the type of person to sacrifice her personal feelings for the greater good. He doesn't want to think she'd give him up, but if sending him in means finally ridding the world of Makarov, he has to accept that, for her, it might be worth it.

Except... Soap can't stop thinking about Ghost's admission. That the goal of killing Makarov was the only thing keeping him moving. And he fears what will happen when he disappears without warning.

And he will disappear. Of that he has no doubt.

So he tightens his grip on Ghost's waist, presses a soft kiss to Ghost's scruffy chin, and basks in the warmth and safety of his lover's arms for as long as he can.

<< Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6 >>

[lucysarah-c]

~ Holy Ground ch. 3: Girl at home ~

Summary:

"Alright, get comfortable because this is going to be a long, crappy tale. Join me as we travel down memory lane, back when Erwin wasn't yet a commander, when Mike and Nanaba couldn't keep their hands off each other, when Hange was… well, Hange. And Levi? Well, Levi was a twenty-four-year-old man who didn't give a damn about the rules. Are you ready?"

Warnings: This story contains age gaps, time period misogyny and mentions of homophobia, strong and offensive language, underage sex, alcohol, smoking, implied/referenced of drug use. This is a very slow burn so everyhthing takes a while to happen. Explicit sex content. Virginity, loss of virginity, cheating, mentions of cheating, pregnancy but no by the main character, consensual sex, consensual underage sex, underage kissing.

Pairing: Levi x Reader x Erwin. Levi x Reader are end game. (this is not eruri). This story takes place after ACWNR but BEFORE season 1

-> Masterlist to all the chapters! <-

I observe the expressions on the faces of each of the kids here with me. Sasha and Connie appear quite bored, Jean and Armin seem skeptical, and Eren is in a heated argument with Mikasa about the cold weather and the need for him to wear a sweater or something.   "Am I boring you guys? Is this not what you had in mind?" I wonder, trying to understand why my story isn't having the impact I expected.   I receive mixed responses. Jean and Armin seem more engaged, but the rest... Well, they seem to be lost in their own world.   "Did the captain treat you like that?" Armin asks, visibly dismayed.   "What? You don't believe me? You can always go and ask Levi about the truth of the matter," I say, attempting a smirk to appear cool, but then I realize what I've just said. "Actually, no. Please don't go and ask Levi about it."   "Why not? Are you lying?" Sasha asks with a mischievous smile.   "No, I'm actually telling the truth, but the problem is that Levi hates sharing his personal life. So, for the sake of all of us, we should keep this as a secret," I explain, hoping to persuade them, and thankfully, it seems to work. If he found out I've been talking about him to his squad, it would pretty much seal the deal on our breakup.   "If it's true that you two used to hate each other so much, how did you start dating?" Jean asks, resting his face on his hand.   "Jean, a relationship isn't just a matter of saying 'hello, how are you? Do you want to get laid?' There's a process," I explain while rolling my eyes.   It's amazing how at that age, we think that love is some magical thing that happens suddenly and lasts forever. But in reality, it's much more complicated and terrifying. It's a painful process that can end well, or poorly, or sometimes it takes a long time to reach a resolution. I can't help but wish that my case isn't the last one as I touch my bandages.   'Is this what you wanted?' I reflect, suddenly feeling exhausted. I could do better than this, I know it. Running away like a frightened child. I shouldn't be here on this watch post. I should be talking to him, reminiscing while he holds me in his strong arms after a night of passion. Not here, not with them, not like this, no--   "Speaking of getting laid," Connie interrupts my train of thought. "When do we get to the spicy part?"   Suddenly, everyone is excited again. They all look at me with curious glances and a slight blush on their young cheeks. They can't seriously expect me to chat about my sex life with their Captain, right?   "Don't tell me you think I'm going to spill the beans about what happens in my bedroom?" I speak my mind, trying to confirm my suspicions. However, their silence and blushing faces confirm their disappointment. Except for Mikasa, who somehow reminds me of Levi.   "Let's make a deal. When we get to that part, we'll see what I'll share with you. The problem is, we're not there yet, and we'll never get there if you keep interrupting me," I say, and they nod, waiting for me to continue.   I take a sip from one of the bottles on the table. I wish I could hide my disgusted expression as they laugh at my reaction. Damn teenagers and their cheap alcohol.   Where was I? Ah, yes, the first morning of training with my not-boyfriend back then…

For those who may not know or haven't noticed yet, I'm originally from Sheena's Wall. I spent my entire life there before joining the military. Not just any district, mind you, but right in the heart of the capital city. It's truly an extraordinary place to call home. Now, the story of how a privileged girl like myself ended up in the Scouts is a tale for another time. My distinctive capital accent always seemed to give me away, and I'm willing to bet that Levi knew where I was from even before I uttered a word that night. It wasn't exactly a secret.

Perhaps it was my wardrobe, the variety of shirts and dresses I wore on our days off, or my hair clips and perfume that gave away my origins. This little fact about me may have made my initial coexistence with Levi quite challenging. While he was struggling to survive on unclean water, I was comfortably sleeping in a king-size bed surrounded by teddy bears and feather-filled cushions, with my maid preparing breakfast for me.

As usual, I woke up in my small, uncomfortable cadet bed, with my hair scattered all over the pillow. Mornings have never been my strong suit, to say the least. I stretched and prepared for the day ahead. During my morning routine in our shared room, I noticed two things. Firstly, Nanaba was not there, meaning she must have spent the night in Mike's room.

‘Lucky her, having a superior boyfriend. They get those beautiful rooms all to themselves, ’ I thought as I brushed my hair.

Secondly, I realized I needed to hurry because my training was about to start. Breakfast was served between 6 and 7 am for recruits, and somehow, I always managed to arrive ten minutes earlier and grab a cup of tea. I did a crown braid to keep half of it out of the way, washed my face, applied some moisturizer, and chose a shirt to wear for the day.

Once I was ready, I headed to the mess hall. Some might argue that I put too much effort into my appearance, but I could easily justify it. You see, one thing I learned during my time living in the capital city is that how people perceive you determines how they treat you.

With a smile on my face, I greeted and waved to everyone I passed along the way. This may have been another aspect of my personality that Levi couldn't tolerate back then. I entered the gates and scanned the room, searching for that particular short, black-haired man. To my disappointment, he wasn't there.

Glancing at my watch, I thought to myself, ‘ It's 6:45. Maybe he's not a morning person.’ I shrugged, thinking I might find him later to tackle our chores as a duo. I grabbed a tray of food and joined Petra and a few other girls, including Nifa.

“I adore the shirt that you are wearing today!” Nifa complimented me, a sweet girl who shared my interest in fashion.

“It would look lovely on you. The deep navy blue would make your gorgeous honey eyes shine even more” I added, smiling at her. Nifa and I used to go downtown together from time to time.

Usually, there wasn't much effort put into our outfits on duty days. I typically stuck to basic-colored shirts like white, shades of gray, and black. Occasionally, I'd opt for a black and white or navy blue and white horizontal striped long-sleeve shirt to add a touch of drama. However, that day, I had chosen a simple white shirt with a deep navy blue hem and buttons. I had always liked how blue complemented the color of the Wings of Freedom. Even the lace of the small braid of my hair was in the same shade, matching always. 

The majority of the others usually wear the first thing they find in the morning, regardless of its cleanliness or condition. In contrast, I take pride in my appearance, treating the corridors as my personal runway as I carry the tea for my squad leader.

"Hey Petra, since you seem to know so much about Mr. Grumpy, have you seen him?" I asked, not that I wanted to share breakfast with him, but I needed to make sure someone had spotted him at least.

My paranoia grew as Petra shook her head in response. "I hope he didn't oversleep on the first day," I mused. Little did I know that words like "oversleep" or even "sleep" were missing from Levi's vocabulary. I tried to enjoy the remainder of my breakfast, keeping my attention fixed on the door. But mealtime came to an end, and that little troublemaker was nowhere to be seen.

"Hey Gerald, have you seen Levi?" I inquired of one of my male comrades, thinking that a fellow cadet might have better insight.

"Who?" was his simple reply.

"Levi, the short guy from the underground?" The future Captain was nowhere near as popular as he is now, primarily because he hardly spoke to anyone.

"I have no freaking idea where that bastard is," the brunette answered, then added, "But maybe you should ask Will. I think they share rooms in the barracks."

I thanked him for the information, left my tray behind, and embarked on my search for my missing partner.

"Didn't Erwin tell him that we have morning chores to attend to? Where the hell is he?" I muttered while scanning the surroundings. I checked every nook and cranny, searching every corner and corridor for Levi or William. I even peered through the windows, hoping to catch a glimpse of him. Just as I was about to turn the corner, I spotted Will. He was mopping the corridors with another recruit, and I greeted them both with a smile.

"Hey Will, good morning," I greeted the tall black-haired boy. "Mind if I ask if you've seen Levi?"

"O-oh, hey! Good morning," Will saluted me back, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. He was such a sweet boy. "MH, I usually don't see him in the mornings. He's already gone by the time I wake up."

"What a pity," I sighed loudly, disappointment evident on my rosy lips.

"Maybe you should check the shower room in the male barracks. That guy definitely takes too many showers," the helpful cadet suggested without a second thought.

I thanked him and continued my investigation. It was already half past eight when I finished checking the common areas, and Levi was nowhere to be found. I didn't particularly want to venture into the male barracks, not only because it was prohibited for women but also because it was incredibly uncomfortable. But did I have any other choice?

"Y/N! There you are, the little lady of the Scouts," I recognized that distinctive voice anywhere. Hange was calling out to me from behind.

"Squad leader Hange, good morning!" I turned around, stood at attention, and saluted. Hange may be a bit peculiar, or rather, eccentric, as they prefer to be called, but they were still a squad leader.

"Oh, drop the formalities, sugar cube. We're good friends, no need to be so strict," the brunette said with a broad smile, as they always did. Extrovertly placing an arm around my shoulder as they pushed me closer to speak. "Anyways, shouldn't you be with Levi?"

‘Speak of the devil,’ I thought. Of course, I should have been with him if  he could be found anywhere. However, Hange was the only one who managed to have conversations with Levi, or at least tried to. Perhaps they had some tips for dealing with Mr. Grumpy.

"Well, I should be, sir. But I can't find him. Have you seen him yet?" I inquired, trying to sound as unbothered as possible.

"So weird, I saw Levi picking up his orders this morning. He must be somewhere," Hange raised their hand to stroke their chin while contemplating. "But if I were you, I wouldn't keep him waiting. He doesn't appreciate being made to wait."

‘He doesn't appreciate anything, if you ask me,’ recalling Nanaba's words. If he had already received his orders, then he must have known that we were supposed to do this together. I bid farewell to Hange and continued on my way.

If the female barracks were typically untidy, I couldn't even begin to describe the state of the male ones. With resignation, I knocked on the door of the shower room, and a partially dressed guy opened it. He had a towel wrapped around his waist and his bare chest exposed. I tried to avert my gaze as my cheeks grew warm. The male recruit leaned against the doorframe and examined me intently.

"Well?" he asked gruffly.

"O-oh, y-yes," my stammered response betrayed my embarrassment. "I'm looking for Levi." He turned around and called out loudly.

"Hey Levi, there's a good-looking girl asking for you here!"

I didn't know what was more humiliating—the fact that I was referred to as "a good-looking girl" or the insinuation that there was something going on between Levi and me. I could hear the laughter from the men inside the room.

No one replied, just silence. I didn't dare to peek inside to see the recruits' expressions, but I could sense that they, too, were awaiting a response.

"Well, it seems like that shorty isn't here. But if you're looking for a good time, I'm at your service, m'lady," he attempted to sound sophisticated, making a reference to my status. I rolled my eyes at his failed attempt.

"No, thank you," I retorted, slamming the door in his face and walking away.

‘Not in the mess hall, not in the common areas, not in the showers. Where the hell is he? It's already 9 am! We've wasted almost the entire morning.’ My mind raced with thoughts. Letting out a frustrated sigh, I approached one of the cadets walking by and asked for the location of Levi's room.

"Last room on the right," he had mentioned. I repeated it in my mind to avoid forgetting. If only I had known how many times I would sneak into that room for activities far from training.

Once again, I knocked and waited for someone to answer, but this time it was different. Another recruit answered the door, and as soon as I caught a glimpse inside the shared bedroom, I saw him sitting on his bed, engrossed in a book. I didn't wait for an invitation; I walked straight toward him.

"Excuse me? Can you explain what you're doing here?" I questioned, my tone laced with anger. I was far from being in a good mood.

However, my attempt to sound imposing failed miserably as Levi raised his gaze from his book to meet me. Nervously, I swallowed, feeling as if Levi's deep, piercing gray eyes were cutting through my soul.

"What the 'ell are you doin' 'ere?" Levi's deep voice echoed through the room, causing everyone to turn and see what was happening.

‘Think quickly, don't let him get to you,’ I reminded myself, preparing for the confrontation.

"I wouldn't be here if you had been in the mess hall like everyone else, starting their chores," I retorted, refusing to back down from the conversation.

"Huh? What did ya just blurt out?" Levi closed his book and rose from his bed. He walked towards me, clearly attempting to intimidate. The problem was that even a few inches taller, he appeared incredibly powerful.

"That's nonsense! You heard me! You should have been there!" I insisted.

“Lis'n up, ya posh little brat. I was bang on time; it's you, ya lazy scumbag, who never showed up.” Levi shot back.

"I was there before seven o'clock. On the other hand, you were missing," I argued.

“I ain't your damn servant. I stuck around 'til quarter past six. Next fuckin’ time, get your ass there earlier,” Levi retorted.

"Who cares what time I arrived at the mess hall! You should have waited for me. We wasted so much time!" I exclaimed.

"You're a right pain in the ass, innit?I done my bit, now piss off from my fuckin’ room. This is the last time you show your face 'ere,"

"This is supposed to be teamwork, Levi. You can't just go out and do 'your part.' Besides, what exactly is 'your part'?" I challenged.

“I ain't gonna sort out your crap life for ya. Go and take a look’s at what I've already fuckin' done 'cause I did wake up on time. Maybe if you didn't waste so much time tryna flaunt, you wouldn't 'ave missed me.” Levi hit back.

His words stung, but there was no way I would let him dictate how I should spend my time. "Well, at least I can show off. You can go out and buy the most expensive shitty clothes and still look like a filthy rat from a trash heap," I retorted.

My remark seemed to genuinely offend him, as he grabbed the collar of my shirt and lifted me up. I closed my eyes, expecting him to strike me.

"What the hell is going on here? Women aren't allowed, and I thought I made that perfectly clear! Levi, put that damn girl down, and Y/N, leave immediately before I report this to your superior," a commanding voice interrupted Levi's actions.

The other cadets who had been watching quickly stood up and saluted the superior. Once I was back on the ground, I hastily made my way out, not wanting to draw any further attention to myself.

Needless to say, I completed the rest of the work alone that morning. I didn't dare to approach Levi again, mainly because I wanted to keep my head attached to my body. The truth was, Levi had indeed done a significant portion of the work, but the question remained: When did he do it? I hadn't spotted a single strand of his dark hair on campus that morning. As I fed the horses, Will's words echoed in my mind, raising yet another question: "When the hell does that demon wake up if he manages to finish all the chores?"

After completing my duties, I headed to the mess hall for lunch. My mind was preoccupied with how to make this team function smoothly. "I was a bit harsh with him. I let him get under my skin," I reproached myself, reflecting on the events of the morning. "There's no use crying over spilled milk. We still have the afternoon training to make things right. If anyone can make this work, it's me. Don't let him affect you." This pep talk boosted my confidence and allowed me to approach the rest of the day with more optimism.

However, maintaining my positive outlook became nearly impossible when I entered the mess hall and felt everyone's eyes on me. As usual, I picked up my tray and joined my friends.

"Why is everyone staring at me?" I asked once I sat down and tasted the first spoonful of the flavorless soup they served.

"Well, well, well, look who we have here. They say there's a fine line between love and hate, but I never expected you to cross that line on the very first morning you were paired with that jerk," Nanaba teased, clearly enjoying herself. Meanwhile, Petra seemed quite upset with me.

I struggled to express my surprise, my bewildered face revealing my emotions. The spoonful of food I had scooped up fell back into the dish as I tried to gather my thoughts.

"Excuse me?" I managed to utter.

"Come on, don't act so surprised! You know better than anyone that rumors spread like wildfire here," the tall blonde girl explained matter-of-factly. She noticed that I was still lost in the conversation and added, "Everyone is talking about how you went to meet him in his room and how your faces were just inches apart before a superior interrupted."

I closed my eyes, trying to process this nonsense. Resting my head on my left hand, my hair obscured my face. It always amazed me how information could be distorted in just a matter of hours.

"That's not even close to what happened. He was nowhere to be found, so I went looking for him, and it turned into an argument in his room," I summarized the events.

"How could you do that to Petra? You knew how much she likes him," Nanaba remarked, clearly mocking me as she took a sip of her water.

But the real issue was that Petra actually appeared upset. She was sitting right in front of me, on the other side of the table. I reached out my right hand and placed it on her arm. "Petra, I would never do something like stealing someone's boyfriend or crush. So, you don't have to worry about me. In fact, when I get the chance, I'll find out what he thinks of you."

That seemed to ease her mind. I remember her smile, her innocent golden eyes filled with admiration for me. I know there's no excuse for what I did, but at that moment, my words were sincere. I never intended to come between them; it just happened. If only I had known then what I know now.

Link to my masterlist and my other works if you feel like checking them out. Tags!: @nube55 @justkon @notgoodforlife @nmlkys @humanitys-strongest-bamf @quillinhand @thoreeo @darkstarlight82 @aomi04 @levisbrat25 @fxnnyackerman @secretmoneybearvoid @feelingsandemotionsnotexplored @l3visthighs @hannieslovebot @flxrartsstuff @feelingsandemotionsnotexplored @starrylevi @rithty @mariaace @ackrmntea @emilyyyy-08 @levisfavoriteteashop @katestrophes @katharinasdiaryy @ackermanswifee @levistealeaf @an-ever-angry-bi @youre-ackermine @searriously @blackdxggr @storiesofsung @abiatackerman @braunsbabe @moonchild-angel @galactict3a @lemonsupernova @hyuckwon-my-husbands @heyitsd1yaa @sydneyyuu @love-for-faeries-go-burrrr @mandaax @sugacor3 @r0ckst4rjk @vegetasgirl2799 @catiwinky @pinksaiyans @sparklykeylime Wanna join my tag list? Here!

[sherewrytes]

ꜰʀᴀᴄᴛᴜʀᴇᴅ Gojo x Black Fem reader

↳ Satoru Gojo x f! black reader

In Tokyo's underground music scene, Exxor is on the verge of global fame, but beneath the glitz, emotions run wild. Lead singer Satoru Gojo shines in the spotlight, while bassist Suguru Geto battles his dark past and unspoken love for Y/N, a rising fashion designer. Their shared history is fraught with tension, especially now that Y/N is falling for Gojo. As her career catapults her into the global fashion arena, old feelings resurface, threatening to unravel the band and their fragile friendships. Can they navigate the chaos of fame, or will their secrets tear them apart?

Genre: Romantic Drama, Psychological Fiction

Content warnings:

Substance Abuse, Toxic Relationships, Unrequited Love, Mental Health Issues, Slight drug use

Comment if you wanna join the taglist

Chapter under the cut

Chapter 3: Changes?

Y/N's POV

As Chante and I walked down the street toward my apartment, the hum of the city nightlife around us felt like a blur. My mind was still spinning from the concert, from the energy, the lights, the music, but mostly from him. Gojo. Satoru Gojo.

He had texted me earlier, explaining that he got my number from Kento. I bit the bullet and agreed to go on a date with him—why not? The conversation between us had been fun and easy, and there was something about him, something I couldn’t quite place. I liked it. I liked him. And I wanted to know more.

Chante glanced over at me, her eyes sharp as usual. "So, what about Suguru?" she asked, a teasing edge in her voice.

I shrugged, trying to act like it didn’t matter, but I could feel a knot forming in my stomach. "What about him?" I asked, keeping my tone casual, even though my thoughts were far from it. "We're cool."

Chante snorted, clearly not buying it. "You’re cool with him?" She tilted her head, a knowing smirk on her lips. "He’s so brooding. And... weren’t you fucking him at some point?" She raised an eyebrow, a teasing glint in her eyes.

I ignored her question, my gaze drifting forward, hoping to avoid it. The night air felt a little colder now, or maybe it was just the way my chest tightened when I thought about Suguru. We hadn’t talked much since things ended between us.

Chante didn’t miss the hesitation in my silence, her eyes widening as the weight of what I said—or rather, didn’t say—settled on her. She leaned closer, her voice lowering. "You bitch," she said, her shock clear on her face. "Who broke it off?"

I couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped my lips. "Does it matter?" I said, trying to brush it off, but even to me, it sounded weak. Chante wasn’t going to let this go, not after seeing that shift in me.

“Come on, Y/N,” she pressed. “Who ended it? I need to know.”

I sighed, rolling my eyes as I rubbed my temples. "Suguru called it off. It wasn’t working, so... he ended it."

Chante blinked at me, her expression one of utter disbelief. "Wait, he called it off?" She paused, trying to process this. "Geto... Suguru Geto—he just let you go?"

I bit my lip, feeling a little exposed, but it was the truth. “Yeah... I guess so.”

The silence between us stretched for a moment. I wasn’t sure what to feel about Suguru anymore. We had our fun, our back-and-forth, but in the end, he’d made the choice for both of us. I wasn’t going to beg him to change his mind, but a small part of me always wondered if maybe... maybe things could have been different.

Chante nudged me with her shoulder, pulling me from my thoughts. "That’s some cold shit, Y/N. He must’ve had his reasons, but damn... that’s icy."

I shook my head, trying to move past it. "I’m over it, Chante. Really. He’s my friend. I’m fine."

She raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. "Mmhmm. And what about Gojo? You’re not just gonna forget about that guy you had your eye on tonight, right?"

I smiled to myself, feeling a warmth creep up my neck. "I’m not forgetting about him," I said, my voice softer than I intended. “He’s... different. I don’t know what it is yet, but I want to figure it out.”

Chante’s smirk was back, and I could practically see the gears turning in her head. "Well, well, well. Looks like my girl’s got herself a new interest," she teased, bumping her hip into mine.

I chuckled, the nervous excitement bubbling up again. "Yeah, maybe I do."

We were close to my apartment now, and I could feel the weight of the evening finally sinking in. Chante’s questions, my own conflicted feelings, and the idea of seeing Satoru again soon... everything was swirling around in my mind.

But for the first time in a long while, I felt like I was finally moving on. Even if it meant facing a few uncomfortable truths along the way.

As we walked up the steps to my building, I fished my phone out of my bag, my fingers automatically pulling up Geto’s contact. The usual anticipation I felt when texting him wasn’t there today. Instead, a strange sense of unease settled over me. I typed out a quick message, asking if he was available for a brand shoot tomorrow.

I hit send and tossed my phone into my bag, not wanting to look at it for a moment. The message sat there, unread. I could feel my curiosity growing, but I shook my head, deciding to ignore it. If he was busy, he’d get back to me when he could, right?

I reached the front door of my building and fumbled for my keys, trying to focus on the task at hand. Chante’s voice pulled me back to reality as she bumped her shoulder against mine playfully. “So, no response from brooding Geto, huh?” she teased, glancing at me with a raised brow.

I couldn’t suppress the small sigh that escaped me. “He left me on read.” I shrugged as I slid the key into the lock, the sound of it clicking open filling the silence. “Strange, though. He’s usually quick to reply.”

Chante’s gaze flicked over to me, her teasing smile fading into something a little more thoughtful. "Maybe he's got his own shit going on." She looked at me as if waiting for me to say something else, but when I didn’t, she added, "You’re not worried, are you?"

I paused at the door, half-turning to look at her. “No, not worried. Just... strange, you know? He’s been a little off lately.”

Chante pushed open the door, stepping into my apartment. “Mm, well, you’ll see. Maybe he’s just caught up in his own head.” She plopped down onto my couch, looking comfortable in my space like it was her own. “But hey, you’ve got Satoru to look forward to now, so who cares about Geto?”

I chuckled, closing the door behind me as I hung my keys up on the wall. "I’m not trying to make this about him, Chante. But you’re right... I do have Satoru to look forward to."

I walked into the kitchen, needing to do something to distract myself. As I pulled open the fridge, I glanced at my phone again, but still, nothing from Geto. The unread message blinked at me mockingly.

The truth was, I didn’t know what to make of Suguru lately. It felt like we were drifting, but maybe that was inevitable. It had always been on his terms, and I never questioned it because I thought that’s how it was supposed to be. But now... with Satoru, with the possibility of something new, it felt like I was standing on the edge of something, not sure whether to step forward or back.

Chante’s voice interrupted my thoughts. “You good?”

I turned to look at her, offering a half-smile. “Yeah. Just... thinking.”

“About Suguru?” she asked, her tone quiet and serious now.

I nodded. "I guess."

She was quiet for a moment, then finally spoke. "Maybe you should talk to him. Clear the air, if you can. Before it gets even more complicated with Satoru."

I chewed on the inside of my cheek, considering her words. She wasn’t wrong, but I wasn’t sure I was ready for that conversation just yet.

I shook my head, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge. "I’ll deal with it later. I don’t want to complicate things more than they already are."

Chante gave me a knowing look but didn’t press further. I appreciated that.

The night passed quietly, but as I lay in bed later, my mind kept drifting back to Suguru. What was going on with him? And why did it feel like everything between us was becoming more... tense?

But then, I thought of Satoru again. The way he looked at me tonight, the way he smiled, and how easy it had felt to talk to him. Maybe I was finally ready to let go of the past, at least the part of it that involved Suguru. Maybe I was ready to move forward.

And if I was, I needed to stop second-guessing everything and just go for it.

I rolled over, grabbing my phone off the nightstand. I couldn’t help it—I opened Geto’s chat again and saw the still-unread message, then sighed, locking my phone and tossing it back onto the bed.

I couldn’t think about it right now. I had enough on my mind already.

Tomorrow was a new day.

Chante flopped onto the couch dramatically, her eyes wide and teasing. “So, tell me everything. Give me the tea on you and Suguru. I mean, you were fucking him since when?”

I felt my face warm, but I kept my cool. “Since university,” I said, trying to keep my voice casual, though the words still felt heavy in my mouth. "It was never anything serious, though."

She raised an eyebrow, clearly not satisfied with that response. “He must’ve had some good dick to keep you coming back. All this time, and y’all never made it official? Damn, girl. You’re a tough one.”

I rolled my eyes and took a deep breath. “It wasn’t like that. We were friends first. And I don’t know, I guess it just... worked. Until it didn’t.” I shrugged, trying to dismiss the conversation, but she wasn’t letting me off that easily.

Chante grinned, clearly not buying it. “I’m just saying, I would’ve been all in if it was me. I guess you were playing the long game with him. Smart.” She leaned forward, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial tone. “Now, tell me about my man Kento. You and him were talking, right?”

I sighed, leaning against the counter as I poured myself a glass of water. “You just met him tonight, Chante. He's the most notorious band hoe out there. I’m pretty sure he’s been with half of the crowd at every show we’ve been to.”

Her face fell, and she rolled her eyes. “Don’t lie on my man. Kento’s not a hoe. He just... seems like a player because he's got that charm. And trust me, I've got eyes. He’s got something that’s a little more than just surface level.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “You’ve only known him for, what—two hours? He’s a band guy. And honestly, don’t get caught up in that charm. It’ll lead you straight into heartbreak.”

Chante crossed her arms, looking me up and down with a mock-serious expression. “You’re just mad ‘cause he’s got that band boy energy, huh? I can fight, Y/N. Don’t lie on my man. He isn’t a hoe. He’s just misunderstood.”

I leaned back, laughing again. “Fine, whatever. Keep defending him. But you’ve been warned.”

She stuck her tongue out at me playfully, shaking her head. “Nah, I think you’re just jealous ‘cause he’s got his eye on me now. Don’t worry, I’ll share him.”

I snorted, rolling my eyes. “You are something else, Chante. I swear.”

She just laughed, her eyes glinting with mischief. “Come on, girl, lighten up. You know you’ll always have me, no matter what drama you get into with Suguru or Kento or whoever else you’re dealing with.”

Her words hit me in a way I wasn’t expecting, and I softened. I had gotten so caught up in everything, I hadn’t really stopped to think about how much I appreciated having someone like Chante in my corner. No matter what happened with Suguru or Satoru or anyone else, I knew I’d always have her.

“Thanks, Chante,” I said quietly, my gaze softening as I met her eyes. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

She smiled warmly, leaning back into the couch and throwing an arm around me. “Anytime, girl. Now, get your mind off that brooding mess of a man. I know you’ve got Satoru waiting for you, and he seems like way more fun.”

I nodded slowly, still feeling the weight of everything that had happened with Suguru. But for the first time in a while, I felt like maybe I was ready to let go of the past and take a chance on something new.

Chante grinned at me knowingly, and I couldn’t help but smile back. Maybe I didn’t have it all figured out yet, but I was starting to feel like it was okay to step forward, to move on. Whatever happened, I wasn’t doing it alone.

“Let’s just see how it goes,” I said, my voice more confident than I felt. “One step at a time.”

“Exactly. And who knows?” Chante gave me a playful wink. “Maybe Gojo will be the one to get you to forget all about broody Suguru.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “Not likely, but we’ll see.”

As I settled into the couch next to Chante, the worries of the day started to feel more distant. Tomorrow was a new day, and for the first time in a long while, I was excited to see what it would bring.

I laughed at Chante's words, playfully shoving her in response. “Shut up, you know I don’t stress him out like that. Kento’s just a friend. Just a friend,” I emphasized, though I couldn’t stop the small grin on my face. She was just messing with me, like always.

Chante raised an eyebrow, smirking at me. “Uh-huh. Sure, sure. But honestly, if you’re not getting any response from Suguru, maybe you should ask Satoru to model for you. I’m sure he’d love that. You know, just to keep things moving.”

I paused for a moment, considering her suggestion. Satoru had been on my mind all night since the concert, and despite everything with Suguru, I was actually kind of excited about the idea of spending more time with him. He had a way of making things feel a little lighter, a little more fun.

I smiled at Chante, rolling my eyes. “You know, that’s not a bad idea. If Suguru’s gonna leave me hanging, I might as well hit up Satoru. Plus, he’s got that model look, doesn’t he?”

Chante grinned, clearly pleased with herself for planting the idea in my head. “Exactly! He’s way more fun, and I’m sure you two would have a blast working together. I mean, come on. He’s got the whole ‘bad boy’ thing going on, and you love a challenge.”

I chuckled, shaking my head. “I don’t know if I’d call it a challenge, but I do like his energy. And you're right—he’d make for some interesting shots for the brand.”

Chante nudged me with her elbow. “See? There you go. And if Suguru’s being all broody and distant, Satoru’s right there, being all charming and cool. No harm in asking, right?”

I couldn’t deny the logic. “True. I guess I’ll shoot my shot.” I pulled out my phone, scrolling through my contacts until I landed on Satoru’s number. I hesitated for a moment, then hit send on the text.

Hey, Satoru! I’ve got a shoot coming up, and I’m still waiting to hear back from Suguru. Any chance you’d be interested in modeling for me? Let me know!

I set my phone down and turned back to Chante, who was watching me with a raised eyebrow. “You think he’ll say yes?”

“I’m sure he will,” I replied, feeling a little bit of excitement bubble up inside me. “He’s got to, right? I mean, who could resist being in front of the camera with me?”

Chante laughed, shaking her head. “You’re way too confident, girl. But I’m here for it. Now, let’s just see if he replies, and maybe we can finally see what kind of chemistry you two have.”

I smirked at her, feeling my pulse quicken. If there was one thing I knew, it was that Satoru and I definitely had chemistry. Whether or not he’d say yes to modeling for me was a different story, but it would be fun to find out.

As I waited for the inevitable reply, I felt the weight of the night’s events start to slip away. For the first time in a while, I felt a little lighter.

I froze at his tone, feeling my heart skip a beat. His voice was low and smooth, teasing, as if he knew exactly what he was doing to me. I could almost hear the smirk on his face through the phone.

“Tomorrow works,” I said, trying to keep my composure, though my mind was racing. What is he doing to me?

He chuckled softly, clearly enjoying my reaction. "8 p.m. it is then. I’ll be there," he said, his words laced with a hint of something more—something that sent a little shiver down my spine.

I bit my lip, trying to sound casual. "Sounds good."

There was a beat of silence before I heard him speak again, his voice softer now, like he was closing in on me. "Can’t wait to see you, Y/N. You know, it’s not just the photos I’m looking forward to."

My breath hitched, and I quickly cleared my throat, trying to play it cool. "Yeah, well, you’ll get to see me work. I’ve got a vision for this shoot, Gojo."

He laughed again, and I could almost picture him leaning back, fully aware of the effect he was having on me. "I’m sure you do. I’m looking forward to being part of it... and, uh, maybe more." His tone was suggestive, like he was letting his words linger just long enough to keep me guessing.

I felt the heat creep up my neck, but I didn’t let it show. "I’ll see you tomorrow, Satoru. 8 p.m." I hung up before he could say anything more, but I could still hear his laugh echoing in my head.

Chante was watching me with a smirk on her face, clearly aware of how that call had gone. "What’s that about, huh? Satoru sounds like he’s more than just ready for the shoot."

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help the smile that tugged at my lips. "Shut up. We’re doing a shoot, nothing else."

She raised an eyebrow. "Mm-hmm. Sure, just a shoot."

I shook my head, trying to brush it off, but part of me—a big part of me—was already wondering just how far this could go. Tomorrow would tell me everything I needed to know about Satoru.

I stared at the message from Suguru, my fingers lingering over my phone. Can't, practice. That was all he said. No explanation, no reason for leaving me on read earlier, nothing. Just that.

I sighed, feeling a little disappointed, though I didn’t want to admit it to myself. We’d always worked together so well, his modeling for my brand, giving input on designs, but lately, things had felt off. His distance lately was more than just business—it felt personal.

I shook the thought away, focusing instead on the shoot with Gojo. If Suguru couldn’t make it, I’d have to roll with it. Gojo had already agreed, and part of me was relieved—he was always easy to work with, and his presence brought a certain energy to the room that was hard to ignore.

But why had Suguru been so... distant?

I threw my phone on the couch and grabbed my sketchpad, trying to distract myself. Chante was still lounging on the couch, giving me a curious look.

“Everything alright?” she asked, her voice light but laced with concern.

I nodded, trying to smile. “Yeah, just figuring things out. You know how it is.”

She wasn’t buying it, but thankfully, she didn’t press. Instead, she grabbed her phone and said, “You want me to come with you tomorrow? Just in case Gojo gets any funny ideas?”

I chuckled, even though I was still feeling that uneasy weight from Suguru’s message. “I think I can handle him,” I said, brushing it off. But deep down, I wasn’t sure.

I texted Suguru back, Alright, let me know if anything changes. Then, I set my phone aside and tried to focus on the plans I had for tomorrow, my mind already racing ahead to the photoshoot with Gojo.

Tomorrow, everything would become clearer.

Gojo’s POV

I dropped my phone on the bed, the conversation with Y/N still buzzing in my mind. 8 PM tomorrow. It wasn’t even a question—she’d asked, and I’d agreed without hesitation. She sounded nervous, like she wasn’t sure if she was crossing some unspoken line. I couldn’t help but smile, feeling that familiar giddiness in my chest. I wasn’t sure what exactly I was looking for, but damn, I was excited to see where this would go.

I grabbed my guitar, the smooth wood cool against my fingertips. Strumming aimlessly at first, my thoughts drifted back to Suguru and the rest of the band. I hadn’t really thought about it much during practice, but now that I had a moment of quiet, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off with Suguru.

He’d been distant tonight, even when he was around Y/N. He’d done that thing he always did—pulling back, acting aloof, like he was guarding something. The way he’d glanced at Y/N during practice, like he was holding something back. I hadn’t pressed him on it, but I knew Suguru well enough to tell when something was wrong. Still, it wasn’t my place to dig into it.

With a sigh, I set my guitar down and moved over to the keyboard in the corner of my room. I pulled up the song Suguru had written the other day—one we’d been working on for the upcoming set. I scanned the notes, the way the chords flowed together, the balance of light and heavy in the melody. It was easy to see how much thought he put into it. It wasn’t just technical; it was raw, emotional.

Everyone liked to talk about my voice and my stage presence, but they had no idea how much the band’s essence came from Suguru. He was the backbone, the one who grounded everything. His presence in the band was more than just his talent—it was his depth, his understanding of the music, of the dynamics between us all. He could write a song with more soul than most people could even dream of.

I looked at the screen for a moment, my fingers hovering over the keys. It wasn’t that I didn’t appreciate his contributions—it was that Suguru didn’t seem to appreciate himself the way the rest of us did. He always held back, and tonight, I could feel it more than usual. Maybe there was something going on in his life as usual, but I had the feeling there was more to it than that.

But that was Suguru. Always complicated. Always carrying things he never showed anyone.

I pulled myself out of my thoughts, thinking about Y/N again. She wanted me to model for her tomorrow. I couldn’t help but wonder if she was going to see me differently now that we’d made plans. Would she think I was just being friendly, or would there be something else in the air? It didn’t matter. I was going to make the most of it, either way.

I glanced at the clock. Practice tomorrow. Photoshoot after that. And somewhere in the middle, I needed to plan a date for Y/N. Something that would get her to see me in a way that was different than before. Something memorable.

I picked up my guitar again and strummed a few more chords, thinking about how tomorrow would unfold. No more distractions. No more wondering. I had a feeling this was going to be interesting.

Timeskip

Gojo’s POV

I dropped my phone on the bed, the conversation with Y/N still buzzing in my mind. 8 PM tomorrow. It wasn’t even a question—she’d asked, and I’d agreed without hesitation. She sounded nervous, like she wasn’t sure if she was crossing some unspoken line. I couldn’t help but smile, feeling that familiar giddiness in my chest. I wasn’t sure what exactly I was looking for, but damn, I was excited to see where this would go.

I grabbed my guitar, the smooth wood cool against my fingertips. Strumming aimlessly at first, my thoughts drifted back to Suguru and the rest of the band. I hadn’t really thought about it much during practice, but now that I had a moment of quiet, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off with Suguru.

He’d been distant tonight, even when he was around Y/N. He’d done that thing he always did—pulling back, acting aloof, like he was guarding something. The way he’d glanced at Y/N during practice, like he was holding something back. I hadn’t pressed him on it, but I knew Suguru well enough to tell when something was wrong. Still, it wasn’t my place to dig into it.

With a sigh, I set my guitar down and moved over to the keyboard in the corner of my room. I pulled up the song Suguru had written the other day—one we’d been working on for the upcoming set. I scanned the notes, the way the chords flowed together, the balance of light and heavy in the melody. It was easy to see how much thought he put into it. It wasn’t just technical; it was raw, emotional.

Everyone liked to talk about my voice and my stage presence, but they had no idea how much the band’s essence came from Suguru. He was the backbone, the one who grounded everything. His presence in the band was more than just his talent—it was his depth, his understanding of the music, of the dynamics between us all. He could write a song with more soul than most people could even dream of.

I looked at the screen for a moment, my fingers hovering over the keys. It wasn’t that I didn’t appreciate his contributions—it was that Suguru didn’t seem to appreciate himself the way the rest of us did. He always held back, and tonight, I could feel it more than usual. Maybe it was just the situation with Y/N, but I had the feeling there was more to it than that.

But that was Suguru. Always complicated. Always carrying things he never showed anyone.

I pulled myself out of my thoughts, thinking about Y/N again. She wanted me to model for her tomorrow. I couldn’t help but wonder if she was going to see me differently now that we’d made plans. Would she think I was just being friendly, or would there be something else in the air? It didn’t matter. I was going to make the most of it, either way.

I glanced at the clock. Practice tomorrow. Photoshoot after that. And somewhere in the middle, I needed to plan a date for Y/N. Something that would get her to see me in a way that was different than before. Something memorable.

I picked up my guitar again and strummed a few more chords, thinking about how tomorrow would unfold. No more distractions. No more wondering. I had a feeling this was going to be interesting.

I’d been playing around with the song Suguru had written the other night, trying to piece together the notes, trying to capture whatever emotion he had hidden in it. After I finished, I glanced at Shoko and Nanami. Shoko gave me a thumbs up, her eyes practically sparkling with the kind of approval only she could give. Nanami gave a nod of satisfaction, the usual stoic approval from him.

But Suguru... Suguru was different. He didn’t look impressed at all. In fact, his expression was unreadable. I set the guitar down beside me, waiting for his input. He didn’t hesitate to give it.

"You’re doing it wrong," Suguru said simply, looking up from his guitar, his gaze almost piercing. "You’re missing the point."

I felt a knot form in my chest, irritation creeping in. This wasn’t the first time he’d said something like this, critiquing the way I interpreted his work. He could be frustratingly picky, and right now, I wasn’t in the mood to deal with it.

"Are you serious?" I replied, my voice thick with frustration. "I played it how it felt, Suguru. What more do you want?"

Suguru sighed, letting his guitar rest against his leg. "You’re not feeling it, Gojo. You need to get into it. Feel the weight of the words. Otherwise, it won’t come across."

I was about to snap back at him when I saw the quiet intensity in his eyes. He wasn’t just talking about the song anymore. His tone, the way his words were heavy with meaning—it was like he was speaking about something deeper. Something I didn’t fully understand.

Before I could say anything else, Suguru grabbed his own guitar. He started tuning it absentmindedly, lost in his thoughts for a moment. Then, he began playing the same melody, but this time, it wasn’t like the way I played it. His fingers strummed the strings with a certain weight, a certain tension, like each note was a confession.

The room fell silent as he sang. His voice—deep and dark, like it had been buried for a long time—pierced through the air. His voice was different than what I remembered. It was rougher, more vulnerable, like he was laying bare something he kept hidden. It was almost haunting.

"Am I enough, or am I just a passing phase? Lost in the crowd, and no one sees me fade. I thought I’d matter, but I’m just another name. Forgotten, lost in the shadow of a flame."

His words were raw, full of fear and doubt, like he was singing to the ghosts of a broken past. There was a heaviness in the air, almost as if his voice was carrying the weight of his own fears. I could hear the pain, the unspoken regret, and the longing. Suguru didn’t sing often, and when he did, it was like he was pouring every inch of his soul into the lyrics.

When the final chord hung in the air, he let the silence take over. His eyes closed for a moment, and his shoulders slumped slightly. The tension was gone, but the weight of what he had just sung lingered.

"Suguru..." I started, unsure of what to say, but he cut me off with a quiet, almost defeated sigh.

"Sing it like you feel the pain of the words, Gojo. Otherwise, it’s just a song. No matter how good it sounds, it won’t mean anything."

I stood there, my mind racing, but I couldn’t find the right words. Suguru wasn’t just talking about the song anymore. It was as if he was giving me a glimpse into something deeper, something he’d been carrying with him for a long time.

I thought I understood Suguru. I thought I knew him, his quiet intensity, his brooding silence. But that song... that was him in a way I hadn’t seen before.

"Alright," I said, my voice softer now. "I get it."

I wasn’t sure what else to say, so I just nodded and picked up my guitar again. The weight of his words was still heavy in the air. Suguru had always been like this—quiet, guarded, but when he let his guard down, there was more to him than I had ever realized.

As I strummed the chords again, trying to capture the emotion he had put into the song, I felt a shift. Maybe Suguru wasn’t just a bandmate. Maybe, beneath all that darkness and the mask he wore, he was someone who felt the weight of everything that happened—someone who had a lot more to say than he let on.

But that wasn’t something I could fix for him, no matter how badly I wanted to.

"Let’s take it from the top," I said, trying to lighten the mood. "We’ll get it right this time."

Suguru didn’t answer, but his eyes met mine, and for a moment, I thought I saw a flicker of gratitude in them.

As I sat there, my fingers idly strumming the guitar, I tried to find something in my past that would connect me to the pain in Suguru’s lyrics. A moment when I felt like I wasn’t enough, when I was just another face in the crowd. But I couldn’t find anything that hit quite the way those lyrics did.

Maybe it was because I was too wrapped up in the chaos of my life, too used to being in control of everything around me, to truly understand the feeling Suguru was conveying. His voice, the rawness in it—there was a depth to it that I couldn’t quite grasp.

So, I did what I always did when I didn’t know how to deal with something—I imagined it.

I closed my eyes for a second, letting my mind wander. I pictured a moment—maybe it was me standing in a crowd, the weight of the world on my shoulders, everyone looking past me, not seeing the person I really was. Maybe it was me in a room full of people, but still feeling completely alone. It wasn’t my reality, but I could feel the weight of it in my chest, the loneliness that came with it.

It didn’t sound anything like the way Suguru played the song, but it was close enough to make me feel something stir. I kept playing, trying to match the emotion he put into the words. My guitar felt different now, the chords heavier, as if I was trying to channel something I hadn’t really experienced.

When I finished, I looked up to see Suguru’s expression. His face had softened just a little, a flicker of relaxation in his eyes. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to let me know I was getting closer.

“That’s way better,” he said, nodding slightly.

I felt a little relief, but then Shoko spoke up, breaking the moment. “Why don’t you just perform it at our next concert, Suguru?” she said, her tone playful but serious. “It’s not like Gojo never played a guitar solo or you’ve never sung background vocals on our tracks.”

Suguru raised an eyebrow at Shoko, but there was something almost amused in his expression. He was always so guarded about his voice, his presence. But Shoko was right. He had more to give, and everyone knew it.

“I’m not the frontman,” Suguru muttered, though his usual defensive tone was missing. It was like he was thinking it through for the first time.

“Well, you should be," Shoko said, smirking. "You’ve got the voice, Suguru. Just let us hear it.”

Suguru leaned back in his chair, glancing between me, Shoko, and Nanami. I could tell he was still processing, still figuring out what he wanted to do with all the tension that had built up. His song—his emotions—were out in the open now, and it wasn’t just a band thing anymore. It was personal.

But maybe that’s what we all needed. A little more honesty.

“I don’t know...” Suguru said, his voice trailing off. “I’ll think about it.”

I wanted to push him, to tell him it would be good for him, to show everyone what he was capable of, but I stayed quiet. Sometimes, Suguru had to find his own way. It wasn’t my place to force him.

Instead, I picked up my guitar again, strumming a few chords, and nodded toward him.

“Well, whenever you’re ready, man,” I said, keeping it light. “Just know we’ve got your back.”

Suguru didn’t say anything in return, but the way he looked at me—like he was considering it—made me think maybe, just maybe, he was starting to believe it too.

Shoko’s voice cut through the silence with that usual sharpness. “The band’s main man is Kento, and no one knows it. It’s not like you can’t sing the song, Suguru.”

Suguru’s face twisted for a second, that familiar guarded expression slipping back over him. He sighed heavily, his fingers tapping absently on the neck of his guitar. “It’s too close to home,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper, but the weight of it hung in the air.

There was a shift in the room—a subtle one, but it was enough to make me pause. Kento locked eyes with Suguru, and for a moment, the tension was palpable, like some silent understanding had passed between them. They didn’t need words, but whatever was said in that brief moment made Suguru look away, his shoulders tense.

I could feel it in the air, like there was some unspoken history between them, something deeper than I’d realized. It wasn’t just about the song anymore. It was personal. There was something more behind Suguru’s reluctance, and Kento’s calm response, as usual, only made it more complicated.

I couldn’t help but wonder what that silent exchange meant. What was it that had passed between them? What history was buried in those unspoken moments? I shook my head, trying to push the thoughts away. This wasn’t the time for speculation. Whatever it was, it wasn’t my place to dig into it.

I glanced back at Suguru, his gaze still averted, clearly trying to avoid further attention. But I knew better than to press him. We all had our demons. Suguru’s just seemed to be buried a little deeper than most.

I picked up my guitar again, trying to focus, but my mind kept drifting back to that moment between Kento and Suguru. It was like they were speaking a language I couldn’t understand. Maybe I wasn’t meant to.

I cleared my throat and turned to Shoko, trying to lighten the mood. “Alright, enough of this deep stuff. We’re supposed to be a band, right? Let’s get to work.”

Shoko gave me a look but said nothing, already back to fiddling with her cigarettes. Nanami was quiet too, his eyes still on Suguru, like he was waiting for him to make the next move.

I had a feeling this moment wasn’t over. It was like the calm before a storm—everyone pretending things were fine when in reality, there was a lot more to unpack. But for now, I let it go, hoping that maybe, one day, Suguru would open up about it all.

But I knew better than to push him too hard. Some things he'd need to deal with on his own.

Suguru’s face went pale the moment he pulled out his phone, and I couldn’t help but notice the shift in his demeanor. It was subtle at first, but it was enough to make me sit up straighter. Something was wrong.

He locked eyes with me briefly before strolling over to Kento. I leaned back in my chair, arms crossed, watching as Suguru handed him his phone without saying much. Kento glanced at the screen, his expression unreadable, before Suguru muttered something I couldn’t quite catch and walked off.

There was a brief moment of silence before Kento looked up from the phone, his brows furrowing slightly. He didn’t say anything either, just set the phone down on the table in front of him and took a drag from his own cigarette.

I raised an eyebrow. “What the hell just happened?”

Shoko, who’d been quietly watching, flicked her lighter on, lighting another cigarette. “Something’s bothering him, but he’s not gonna tell us. You know how he is,” she said, her voice nonchalant, like it was just another day in the Suguru Geto saga.

Nanami just shrugged, clearly not interested in pressing the issue.

I, however, was far from satisfied. “You think he’s good?” I asked Kento, my voice low.

Kento didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he took a long drag from his cigarette, looking at Suguru’s phone before finally replying with a half-smirk. “If I knew what was going on, I’d tell you. But it’s better if you don’t get involved, Gojo.”

I could see Kento was trying to be cryptic, but I didn’t buy it. Something had spooked Suguru, and I didn’t know if it was related to the song or something deeper. Whatever it was, Suguru wasn’t the type to show weakness easily. If he was acting like this, it had to be something big.

But I couldn’t press him. Not now.

“Alright,” I sighed, glancing back at the door where Suguru had exited. “If he needs space, we’ll give it to him. But something tells me this isn’t over.”

Kento flicked his cigarette out of the window, leaning back in his chair. “Yeah. It’s not over.”

I knew he was right. Whatever it was, it would come to light eventually. But for now, all I could do was sit back and wait, hoping Suguru would talk when he was ready.

But for now, practice had to continue. Even if there was a storm brewing behind the scenes, we had a band to run. And I wasn’t about to let anything get in the way of that.

[xoxmatilda]

chapter twelve

word count: 3.3k

author's warning: mentions of drugs, and trauma in this chapter. read at your own risk

this chapter will seem a little repetitive because a lot of it is the same Matildarry conversation from the previous chapter, but it's necessary that you read about his thoughts and feelings. 

so here I am blessing you with a chapter (or a couple) in Harry's POV. don't say I don't love you xo Harry's POV

As I near the tent, I can hear grunting inside, then a thud and a loud frustrated growl that follows. I step onto the platform and peer inside the opening, "Tilly?"

She's sitting on the floor in front of the stove, her hair wrapped in a towel, in my sweatshirt I lended her before we left, and a pair of patterned pajama pants. Her head shoots in my direction but she says nothing, "Need some help?" She just nods her head.

She moves to the bed as I step inside the tent. I hand her the hot chocolate I brought her, figuring she'd be cold since the stove wouldn't have been on in her tent while we were gone. I set my mug down and grab some wood from outside the tent and load it into the stove before igniting it. I close the tent and take a seat in one of the chairs sitting near the opening of the tent. She stays in her spot on the bed closest to the heater. I don't make a move to sit closer to her, afraid that it could upset her.

Given that she actually ran away from us tonight, like physically ran to the car and had the driver drive her away from the canyon, I figured I was the last person she wanted to see. But I felt an obligation to check on her. I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep next door knowing there was a possibility that she wasn't okay and she was alone.

"Is this all we're going to do?" There's a twinge of annoyance behind her voice that I can tell she's attempting to hide, but failing. It's not a tone that I'm used to hearing from her, and I wear my reaction on my face, unable to control it.

"We can do whatever you want. If you want to sit here in silence, we'll sit here in silence. If you want to talk, we'll talk."

"What if I don't know what I want?" She's trying to find a way to get me out of her tent.

"Then we sit here until you do," I look at the ground and take a sip of my drink. She snaps her head away from my direction. I can tell she's angry about something, I can tell she's feeling some feelings that she may not know how to process right now, and they're definitely getting displaced onto me. From her point of view, she wouldn't be able to tell that herself in this moment. She's too blinded by her emotions, so for her sake and her dignity, I put on my tough skin and don't let it affect me. 

"What if I want to go to bed?"

I nod my head, "Then we can go to bed, but I'm not leaving you alone if that's what you're trying to get out of me."

"Why?" She fires back.

"Because I want to make sure you're okay. This is the second attack in a row, both times have been brought up by something I've down. I feel a sense of responsibility to at least make sure you're okay. You're not going to stop me." She narrows her eyes at me, her anger growing.

"This is my tent."

I throw one of my thumbs over my shoulder pointing in the direction of my tent, "We can go to mine if it would make you more comfortable." I wait for her to laugh, or at least chuckle from my attempt at a joke, but it never comes. Ouch.

She rolls her eyes instead. I take her silence as her answer and I study her cautiously, "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No." 

"Why not?" I challenge.

"Because my problems are just that. My problems. Like I said this morning, I don't want to blemish the image you have of me with stories of my past,"

I furrowed my eyebrows in response to her, "And I told you this morning, that isn't possible. Why don't you believe me?"

"Because I've heard it from people before and it still happens." She says flatly, setting her empty mug beside her. 

She pulls her legs up to her chest, and I mentally kick myself for going too far. This is the sign that she's uncomfortable. She draws into herself when she does this. I've only seen her do it one other time when we were in my kitchen eating; but the circumstances of that conversation were enough for me to figure out that it's something she does when she's either shy, or she feels like she needs protecting.

"You're pulling away from me..." I accidentally say my thought out loud, "I'm sorry if I came in here hostile, I just wanted answers."

"I don't have them for you," her tone is cold. She's shutting down before my very eyes and I don't know what to say or do to get her to stop.

"Tilly," It comes out almost like I'm pleading. Maybe I am, who knows. "I want to help you. I can't do that if I don't know what's going on."

"Harry, sometimes people don't want help. Sometimes people just need to deal with their demons alone."

"Fine," I throw my hands up in defense and lean back in my chair, folding my hands together in my lap, "I'll stop talking, but I'm not leaving you by yourself."

"Harry. Give it a rest please," now she's the one that's pleading, and it takes everything in me to shove done the smirk that wants to appear on my face.

"Just talk to me and tell me what's going on then. It doesn't have to be all of it. It doesn't have to be every last detail, but at least give me something. I've been so open about my past with the band, and what I've told you doesn't even scratch the surface," I try to level with her.

She shoots daggers in my direction, "Everything you've told me could be searched on Wikipedia. You weren't as open as you think," she spits, "You really don't have any right expecting anything from me when all you've told me are things about the band that your entire fandom knows about."

I pull my hand up to my mouth to cover the smile that I couldn't stop any longer. This fire in her that's coming out is something new. Seeing her defend herself is something new and I can't get enough, but given the circumstances, she'd have my head if she saw me not taking her seriously. 

She squeezes her eyes shut. She looks up at me, "I'm sorry, I--"

I hold my hand up to stop her from apologizing like I know she's about to, "No, no. You're right. I deserved it. Nothing about what you said was untruthful. It just took me by surprise."

The air in the tent was thick, but I couldn't decide if that was because of the tension, or the heat being trapped in the tent. For a moment I thought about opening up the door to the tent a little to air it out, but then she spoke, "Harry?"

My head snaps in her direction at the sound of my name rolling off her lips. She looks startled at my reaction for a second, "A few days ago, at your house... I mentioned I lost someone..."

I shake my head to stop her from sharing when she very clearly doesn't want to share, but she stops me and continues on, "It was my brother. I lost him in August."

I look back at her with pure astonishment. My mind goes through everything she's said to me over the past few weeks. Her being from Arizona, her affinity for the Grand Canyon, losing someone close to her a few months ago.

"I-I don't know what to say, other than that I'm sorry, which I've already said when you first mentioned losing someone. I didn't realize how close they were to you," I look down at my feet, the widen my eyes a big and look back up at her in realization, "It's been a lot for you being back here, hasn't it? It's been hard?"

She's picking at her nail beds out of stress. She nods her head while looking in her lap and all I want to do is move across the room and lift her chin, or envelope her in a hug, something. I refrain from doing what I wish I could. Instead, I lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees, clasping my hands in front of me. I make my voice as soft and as gentle as possible now knowing the circumstances, "What do you need me to do to make it easier?"

She's silent for a moment, and she remains still. Without looking up, she says, "I need time. I process things better when I'm alone."

I look back down at my feet, and nod. I take a moment to take a deep breath and give in to her wishes. Standing up from my chair, I move to the wood pile and add more into her stove for her before taking her mug for her, "If you need anything tonight, you know where to find me. Please don't hesitate."

I don't attempt to hide the look of sadness that I'm sure is plastered on my face after learning that the person she lost was her brother. Someone that she shared memories with in the very town that we were visiting and she's had to spend the last two days reliving those silently as the rest of the world continued to move around her.

I exit her tent and zip it closed before take the mugs to the dining tent and disposing of them. I grab some drinks from the mini bar and take them back to my tent, needing something to silence the slur of emotions that were boiling up inside of my head.

Once in my tent and I have the stove lit, I collapse on the bed, my mind reeling from the past few hours of events. I hear voices outside and recognize them to be Mitch and Jeff's; probably just now getting back. I reach for the lantern on my nightstand and turn it off so they'll think I'm sleeping. Mitch sounds drunk, rambling on to Jeff about something that I didn't have the mental capacity to listen to at the moment given the events that have happened.

When Tilly ran off, I took the other car after her, leaving the other three at the site by themselves. I told them I'd send Tilly's car for them, but that meant they were left out there for an hour and a half before it would get to them. I just didn't have the time to wait for them to pile back in the car, plus there was the fact that the belongings from the first car wouldn't have fit in theirs. Someone had to stay with the equipment. 

My hand blindly searches the bed for one of the shooter bottles. Upon finding one, I open it and pour it in my mouth. I repeat it until the burn gets a little less intense, finally stopping when my body feels a little less heavy from the situation. Despite everything that was said and that had happened tonight, my mind keeps taking me in circles back to the chords on the piano I had written on my laptop this morning in the garden. 

I reach over to the night stand and grab my laptop, opening it up and propping my head on my pillow, placing the computer on my chest. I play the chords I recorded this morning and I listen to them over and over again. What seemed like it would be the perfect soft, happy tune for a song to describe my feelings for meeting someone new, now seems like it's the perfect somber song about missing someone I just met. 

I think back to my house, when we were standing in front of book shelves in my living room and what she said: I'm glad you can still celebrate the good parts of something that almost broke you.

I wasn't broken while with the group, but having to start over has almost broken me multiple times since leaving. I'm still trying to figure out what I am and who I am.

What am I now? I snap my fingers and pull out my phone to start typing. When I get my thought into my phone, I start with the chords again. I play the fast paced chords again and pair it with my voice.

"What am I now? What am I now? What if I'm someone I don't want around? I'm falling again, I'm falling again, I'm falling." I stop the recording a moment and play it back. It pairs perfectly for a chorus. 

I reach for another shooter from the bed, cracking it open and swigging it down. My mind wanders to Tilly, having to sit alone in her tent with the weight of grief and trauma on her shoulders and having to navigate it herself. To me there's nothing worse than having to go through something alone, but it's what she asked for. 

Is she having as much success processing her thoughts as I am with this song? I pluck some slower keys of the piano as I think about how to start the song.

"I'm in my bed, and you're not here. And there's no one to blame but the drink in my wondering hands. Forget what I said, it's not what I meant. And I can't take it back, I can't unpack the baggage you left," I've been kicking myself ever since I left her tent for trying to persuade her to open up when I should have just left it alone. I can't possibly begin to fathom the hurt that she's experienced in the last couple days at my expense. 

I sit up from my position on the bed suddenly sweating from either the alcohol, the furnace or a combination of both. I pull off my sweatshirt and take my laptop and remaining two shooters outside to sit in the chairs in front of my tent.

I subconsciously look over at Tilly's tent and her light is out, signaling she must've gone to bed for the night. Good, hopefully that means she's getting the rest she needs and not stressing alone in the dark.

The sound of someone kicking a rock sounds off behind me and I twist around to see who it is. Mitch throws his hands up in the air as if I was about to attack him, "Easy, Jason Bourne. It's just me."

I turn back around as he comes up closer to the tent and he sees my laptop open on the piano app I downloaded. "You're that desperate that you've resorted to an app on your computer instead of a real instrument?"

He takes a seat next to me, "When inspiration strikes, you just kind of go with it."

Mitch slouches back in his chair and folds his hands together, resting them on his abdomen, head leaned over the back of the chair. He sticks a joint in his mouth and lights it with a lighter, "Let's hear it, then." He breathes out his hit.

I play him the track that I have so far. He looks at me, then knowingly looks to Tilly's tent, "You've only known her for a few weeks, and she already has you writing songs about her," He observes.

I shake my head and reach over and take the joint out of his hand, "It's not like that. It's not all about her." I breathe in a long drag of the joint and pass it back to Mitch, tilting my head back and breathing the vapor out straight up in the air. 

"Not yet," he teases. 

I contemplate hitting him for his dig, but decide it's not worth my time or energy. We fall silent, taking in the sounds of the desert around us. 

"You talk to her yet?" He breaks the silence first and passes me the joint to me after hitting it.

I nod, "As soon as I got back."

"And?"

"And... we talked." I let out the smoke from my lungs, "That's it."

I pass it back to him without looking back in his direction because I can feel his eyes on me. "It's not really my business to share, but she gave me a little insight on why the last few days have been hard on her."

"Okay, so why are you sitting outside of your tent writing a sad song that's partially about her when just last night she had a similar night and you stayed with her until she fell asleep?"

"She asked me to," I sigh in defeat, "She wanted to be alone."

"Oh," Mitch says disappointedly, "Well, brother. I hope you didn't have your hopes on the relationship moving forward then. I think you just dug your own grave."

I turn my head and give him a puzzled look, "We're friends, Mitch. There wasn't ever going to be a relationship."

He lets out a 'tssk,' "Mhmm, maybe not. Or maybe there might've been. No one will know now."

I shake my head and look away from him at the ground ignoring his comments. It was just the weed talking at this point. There was no doubt in my mind that he wouldn't remember this tomorrow, especially with the beers I'm sure he and Kid had waiting for a car to come pick them up from the desert.

"Why are you up so late?" I ask without look at Mitch noticing the clock on my computer read almost one in the morning.

"Beers started messing up my stomach. I got up looking for some food but I remembered I had some joints and settled on that instead. Came out to light it and saw you sitting out here in the light of your laptop screen. Looked like you could use some company," He explained.

A small smile appears on my lips, "Thanks."

As much of a pain in my ass that he could be, our friendship is one of the most important relationships to me. He truthfully has become one of my best friends since becoming part of the band last year. I really don't think I would have made it through this transition without him, or Ollie. 

We sat in the silence of the desert for a while, both of us with our eyes shut, enjoying the sounds and each other's company. I had written everything I had in me before he came up to the tent, I just wasn't ready to go to bed incase on the off chance Tilly woke up and needed something.

Nothing could have prepared us for what came next. A blood hurdling scream coming from Tilly's tent. We both jumped at the sound, as I'm sure Kid and Jeff did in their own tents. I leapt into action, throwing my laptop down on the chair as Mitch went to pick up the remnants of the joint he had dropped in the commotion. He tried to get up and follow me but I stopped him.

"Stay here, and keep Kid and Jeff away from her tent. She's not going to want to see everyone after this," I turn and run to her, opening the tent and practically lunging at the bed.

"NO!" She screams out, while jolting to an upright position, her chest panting almost as past as it was in the helicopter. 

She's wrapped tightly in a throw blanket, lying on top of the bedding. I place my hands on her shoulders to make my presence to her known and she jumps back, her hands flinging to my wrists a moment until I speak and she realizes who I am.

"Shh, shh, it's okay, Tilly, It's me. It's Harry."

masterlist chapter thirteen

[femmefatalevibe]

Hey

I'm an entrepreneur who's also struggling with major depression and gotten put of long toxic draining jobs and cutting off some toxic relationships. (Context - South Asian) I don't see good female role models around much to emulate either, but I do need to get my act together fast or I'll be left behind.

Can I request you to suggest some things that as a woman I absolutely need to prioritize or get my ducks in a row and succeed in life and work?

I'd really appreciate your advice.

Thank you

Warmly

Sumzy

Hi Sumzy, hope you're doing well/better now <3

It sounds like you've been through a lot and are finally in the process of pursuing the life you want, so I want to offer you a major congratulations on this feat!

Firstly, please try to internalize this sentiment as best as you can (I'm still working on it every day lol): Life is not a race; there's no definitive timeline we need to follow.

You might be behind your own preconceived deadlines but outside of *real* deadlines with consequences like not filing your taxes, paying your bills, work deadlines, taking birth control and related medications, all timelines are fabricated––either in your mind or maybe by your community or society at large. Regardless, it's all one big illusion at the end of the day. We're all winging it day by day, believe me. Baby steps toward getting yourself into a healthy, confident, competent, and happy headspace are the only way to go.

Some simple (yet not necessarily easy) ways to begin going in the direction you want for your life include:

Get basic healthy habits in order (consume healthy, plant-based meals, drink plenty of water, sleep 7-9 hours a night, move your body every day, avoid too much alcohol/processed foods/any hard drugs, etc.)

Consider the things you value in life––genuinely, not just what society wants you to value but the aspects of life that help you feel truly happy, alive, and fulfilled. For example, mine *currently* are freedom, autonomy, competency, beauty (not in a superficial way), and pleasure. Once you figure out what these values are, consider the ways you can mold aspects of your life to align with these values.

Create a loose daily routine for yourself––it can be as simple as a 3-step morning and evening routine with a list of 3 other things you want to accomplish during the day in between.

Find a few self-care/simple life pleasures that you can indulge in daily or weekly. It can be as simple as a great cup of coffee you love or a favorite TV show you watch before bed.

Get yourself a little bit ready every day, even if you have nowhere to be. For me, this means concealer, mascara, filling in my brows, and a matching loungewear set. It takes 5 minutes but helps you feel more ready to conquer the day––even if you're just spending it chilling at home.

Find a creative outlet that brings you joy––I'm so grateful that you're all here following one of mine!

Hope this helps. Sending love xx

[tennisdadsaficionado]

OK so long post, please bear with me here.

1) When I have a hyperfixation, I (like many neurosparkly people) take any slight, perceived or otherwise, against the object of my hyperfixation incredibly personally. My hyperfixation is on Jannik himself as much as it is on tennis (I don't like admitting that LOL) so right now, I'm pretty stressed. I have no idea how he's holding it together because I am NOT. Yes, I am trying to be all manifesting positivity and not worry about something I can't control because and my therapist would be incredibly proud of me, she's been working on this with me for years. Like I legitimately feel like I've just failed a drugs test here. I feel worse than I did when I lost my job a couple of months ago.

2) I am autistic so it's possible that might be reading intent behind comments I'm seeing wrong but jokes/comments/anything about unaliving yourself and/or or perpetrating violence against sporting agencies = bad. I'm finding things I'm seeing to be very triggering. I have just had a panic attack here. Li has had to do some grounding with me. I'm still kinda crying. I have been dealing with unaliving myself ideation for over 30 years, and have attempted to do so on multiple occasions.

Jokes about unaliving yourself are not funny. If you think it's an appropriate way of expressing how upset/angry/stressed you are, it's not. If you seriously feel that way, please please please get help, please talk to someone. It doesn't have to be a professional.

This… y'all it's making me incredibly uncomfortable and triggered, and I don't use 'trigger' lightly - my partner has c-PTSD and I have many diagnosed anxiety/mental health disorders, so I never use it to mean 'oh I just don't like it', we're talking full on involuntary recall of trauma here and psychological and physiological response to said trauma.

I'm already loving tennisblr and I want to be part of the community I've found here. I absolutely do not expect anywhere online to be a safe space for me. I've been in online fandom for over 25 years, I know it's down to me to curate my online experience - and believe me, I do. So going forward, and I absolutely don't mean to flounce here because I don't want to leave, I am here for the fucking love of tennis, of Jannik, but may have to start unfollowing/block for the good of my own mental health. Which I hate because up to now, my experience of tennisblr, of Jannikblr, is pretty much full of love and acceptance and a very welcoming community. But before I go ahead and start unfollowing/blocking, I wanted to take the time to put this post out there and hope that maybe it'll make people think about what they're saying, about the impact the language that's being used can have. If you feel the need to unfollow me for saying this, I understand.

3) I'm seeing some misinformation about the appeal being spread. So, from what I've been able to ascertain, as this is an appeal case that's being put before the CaS, the process is different because there's no investigation being done by them - that's already been done by the ITIA. This is WADA saying we disagree with the outcome. WADA have submitted their appeal, Sinner's team will now/may already have submit their reply to the CaS. The CaS then decide if they're even going to accept the appeal. If they do, a hearing well be held, both parties present evidence and argue their case. Now, as this is an appeals case, this must be done WITHIN 3 months. And the verdict can be given on the day of the panel. (https://www.tas-cas.org/en/general-information/frequently-asked-questions.html)

4) I know I've used the phrase 'manifest positivity' already, both in this post and previous, but like… Tennisblr manifested the Sincaraz season slam, right?. Tennisblr is working super hard on manifesting a Sincaraz final in Beijing. So lets use our powers for good and send out the good vibes into the universe, and buoy up our boy, let him know we're behind him, we believe in him and all that. (Yeah, kinda pagan kinda hippie. I kinda am).

At the end of the day, regardless of what happens, we know he did nothing wrong!

Thank you for coming to my TEDtalk. But seriously, if you've read this far, thank you.

[punsmaster69]

16/OCT/20XX

"X-raying a skeleton?"

"Isn't that kinda pointless?"

alphys shook her head.

"They can look for problems 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 the bone, too."

undyne looked confused.

"What? Isn't there just.. more bone inside the bones?"

"Bones have multiple layers!"

"and a lot of parts. you've got the proximal epiphysis, the diphysis, the metaphysis..."

alphys pointed at various points on papyrus as i listed each one.

undyne continued to look confused.

"Why are there so many '-sis' things in your bones?"

"cuz we're sissies."

"WHAT? SINCE WHEN?"

"I think he meant in the coward way, Paps."

"OH."

"THE GREAT PAPYRUS IS NO COWARD!"

"MY ONLY FEAR IS...!"

"....."

"NOT HAPPENING, SO BASICALLY NOTHING!"

a nurse came into the lobby and called my name.

"Sans?"

"welp, that's me."

papyrus rose from his seat to follow me.

i handed my journal to alphys.

"don't have too much fun waiting without us, ok?"

——

[There's a crude drawing of Sans and Toriel kissing. Sharp handwriting follows.]

Pictured above: my dream

Heya its me Sansand im a big NERD

I love my brother Papyrus hes the cooolest

And also Undyne is So cool and awsome

also also Alphys is smart and cool and stuff and a way better nerd than me,

Anyway TORIEL right woww shes soo0 hot hot baby—

[A line is drug from the 'y' to the edge of the paper, suddenly cutting off the text.]

Sorry, Sans...

I went to the bathroom, and she got bored.

~ Alphys

——

papyrus tapped his foot anxiously as we waited for the doctor to return.

"so.. you're my guardian now, huh?"

"WHAT? I DO 𝗚𝗨𝗔𝗥𝗗 YOU."

"...EVEN IF THAT WASN'T 𝘘𝘜𝘐𝘛𝘌 WHAT THEY MEANT. IT STILL COUNTS!"

"should i start calling you papa-rus?"

"ARGH, NO!! I HAVE TO BE IN HERE, SANS. EVEN IF IT MEANS... L... L.."

"....."

"SHIFTING THE TRUTH, SLIGHTLY."

"what're you so nervous about?"

"NERVOUS? THE GREAT PAPYRUS IS NEVER NERVOUS!.."

"......"

his foot tapped faster.

"IF THEY FIND ANYTHING..."

"THAT'S NOT GOOD! OBVIOUSLY. BUT, WE'D AT LEAST HAVE AN ANSWER TO ALL THIS."

"IF THEY 𝘋𝘖𝘕'𝘛 FIND ANYTHING.."

"THEN WHAT?"

"then on to something else."

that didn't seem to make him worry much less.

𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘤𝘬, 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘤𝘬.

the doctor opened the door.

"We're all ready for you."

"ok. you coming, paps?"

——

"...So, yeah! Everything looks a-okay, but we won't know for sure until the radiologist gets back with us in about one to two days."

"just gotta hang out 'till then, yeah?"

"Yep! Just don't break any bones in the meantime."

"can do."

"HAVE A GOOD DAY, HUMAN-DOCTOR."

in the lobby, undyne was splayed across multiple chairs. they were watching something on alphys' phone.

when she spotted us, undyne bolted upright (startling alphys in the process).

"Finally! Why did that take SO freakin' long??"

"IT FELT LIKE WE WAITED FOREVER IN THE ROOM!!"

"D-did they see anything?"

"nothin' on the cursory. we'll get the full results in maybe a day or so."

"ALPHYS, DO YOU STILL HAVE SANS' JOURNAL?"

"Um, y-yeah. Here.."

she dug it out of her coat pocket and handed it to me with an apologetic look on her face.

went back a page to see why.

...

thank you, undyne.

thoughtful entry.

——

we got ice cream and went to the park.

undyne jumped in a leaf pile, and came out looking like she was trying to disguise as a bush.

then papyrus tried to help her get some of the leaves off,

but she pushed him into it, too.

he shoved her back, and soon it turned into whole a leaf-wrestling match.

....

you ever seen a skeleton knock leaves out of his eye sockets?

[hockeylovee12]

Just A Pawn-Luke Hughes

Chapter Three

Summary: Once again Luke’s roommates express worry over his behavior, Luke shuts them down it isn’t until Luke gets a surprised visit that things start to turn around.

Warnings: mention of drug use, overprotective brothers, mentions of being used, implied sexual content

—————————————————

Luke sat on the couch in the living room of his shared house, his roommates and teammates surrounding him. Dylan Duke, Mackie Samoskevich, Ethan Edwards, and Mark Estapa exchanged concerned looks as they glanced at Luke. 

A few weeks had passed since they expressed concern over him and Remi, and instead of listening to them Luke had only continued seeing Remi, and they continued growing increasingly worried about his reckless behavior. 

Dylan cleared his throat, breaking the tense silence in the room. "Luke," he began cautiously, "we need to talk." Luke looked up from his phone, annoyance etched on his face.

“What now? Can't you guys just leave me alone?"

Mackie let out a sigh and took a seat next to Luke. "Look, man, we're your friends. We're just worried about you."

Ethan chimed in, his voice laced with concern. "We know you came home high last night, Luke. That's not like you."

Luke's eyes narrowed as he crossed his arms defensively. "So what? What's it to you guys?"

Mark spoke up softly. "We care about you, Luke. We don't want to see you go down a destructive path." Luke just rolled his eyes.

Knowing this conversation was going nowhere productive Dylan pulled out his phone and dialed Quinn's number.

After a brief conversation with Quinn over the phone, he hung up and looked at Luke. "I just called Quinn," Dylan said. "He wants to talk to you."

Luke scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Oh great! More of Quinn's infamous lectures! How exciting!" Just then, Luke's phone buzzed with a new text message from Quinn: 'We gotta talk, pick up the phone.' Luke clenched his jaw tightly as he read the text message aloud mockingly to his friends.

Dylan shook his head disapprovingly. "You can't keep avoiding this conversation with Quinn forever, Luke. He's just trying to help."

Luke's frustration boiled over as he stood up abruptly. "You guys are just a bunch of tattletales! I don't need any help, not from you and especially not from Quinn!" Luke lashed out, before storming upstairs.

———————————————————————

Over the next few days Luke's attitude had not changed. Luke still refused to listen to his friends, which resulted in him doing the exact same things he had done before.

One night, Luke found himself in his room, with Remi lounged on his bed, blowing smoke rings into the air. They laughed, talked and kissed, getting lost in their own little world.

Meanwhile, outside Luke's room, Dylan Duke noticed Quinn's arrival. Quinn, being in town for a game against the Detroit Red Wings, had taken this opportunity to confront Luke face-to-face.

Dylan opened the front door for Quinn and quietly gestured towards the staircase which led to Luke's room.

Quinn walked up the staircase and pushed open Luke's door without hesitation. His eyes widened as he took in the sight before him - Luke and Remi, tangled together on the bed in various stages of undress.

“Quinn!" Luke jumped up, scrambling to grab his shirt from the floor. Remi flushed red and attempted to cover herself with a blanket. Quinn's face turned a shade darker as he tried to process what he had just witnessed.

“What is going on here?" he finally managed to say through gritted teeth.

Luke stammered for an explanation. "I...uh...we were just..."

“I can see what you were doing," Quinn interrupted with a mix of anger and disappointment.

Quinn shook his head and turned to the door, “Get dressed and get out of here. Luke we gotta talk” Quinn said, walking out the door to give the two teenagers some privacy.

A few moments later, Luke and Remi were fully dressed and appeared in the hallway. Quinn stood there with his arms crossed, looking at the two of them with a scowl on his face. Remi said a quick goodbye to Luke and walked down the stairs. 

“So Luke, how you been?” Quinn asked sarcasm and anger mixed into his voice.

Luke flushed as he looked at Quinn, not sure what to say, instead staying silent.

“Don’t you have a game or something tonight?” Luke finally said.

Quinn shook his head, “It’s tomorrow night.”

Luke let out a sigh and an eye roll before walking back into his room, leaving the door open expecting Quinn to follow him. Quinn did, but stood at the door for a while before walking in, he noticed the bong sitting on Luke’s desk and a small baggie with a substance in it.

Quinn let a little smirk of disbelief come across his face, “You stop getting drug tested is that it? Or did you just think you could get away with it?” Luke looked down at the floor, before making eye contact again with Quinn.

“Come on I know you’ve smoked before” Luke accuses

“Once or twice and never during a season.” Quinn rebutled. Quinn stepped in the room, and closed the door behind him, before pulling out Luke’s desk chair and taking a seat.

“So let’s talk,” Quinn says. Luke lets out a loud dramatic groan causing Quinn to chuckle.

“you’ve been avoiding it for a while now. You’re dodging both me and Jack's calls and you haven't texted me in a while. Lukey you’re my little brother and I care about you alright” Quinn begins anger no longer lingering in his voice but rather genuine concern.

“I understand you’re growing up and Jack and I we’re overprotective of you, but please don’t go wrecking your life just to prove a point. We’ll work on the overprotective stuff if you quit this crap. No more weed, no more skipping class, get back on track Luke. Otherwise we can just keep going round and round until you get it through your thick head and who knows how bad things would have to get first” Quinn continues.

Luke looks at his brother, and for the first time in a month he doesn't feel angry, instead he starts to feel a pang of guilt washing over him, the weed, skipping class, slacking off in practice all of it made him feel embarrassed.

He knows that’s not who he is and if he’s being honest he didn’t even like the weed that much.

The only thing he didn’t feel a sense of regret for was meeting Remi, despite all of the bad things that came with it, a lot of good things came with it as well.

Remi didn’t see Luke as Jack and Quinn Hughes' brother, or a 4th overall pick with so much to prove, Remi saw Luke as Luke, even without the drugs and the sneaking around the moments they had together, showed Luke a sense of adventure he never experienced before, she showed him a new kind of freedom.

Luke takes a deep breath and looks at Quinn. “You’re right, Quinn I fucked up and bad I gotta get myself back on track, and I will no more weed, no more skipping class, I’m gonna talk to my coach, I gotta apologize to my friends and and you and Jack. I’m sorry,” Luke says sincerely.

A feeling of relief washes over Quinn. Quinn stands up and walks over to Luke, putting his arms around him and gives Luke a hug, and says “About time,” Luke let out a slight laugh.

Before needing to head back to his hotel Quinn offered to take Luke out to lunch, Luke happily accepted. For the first time in a month Luke felt like he was back in control of his life. 

———————————————————————

Over the next week Luke began to do damage control. He had stopped smoking completely, starting getting back into a routine, going to every one of his classes, apologized to his teammates, and coaches and made up with Jack and Quinn.

The only habit Luke has not yet managed to kick was his relationship with Remi. He still hung out with her a lot, although Luke was trying to be more cautious about when and how they spend time together.

Luke was not smoking with her anymore nor skipping class to see her.

It was almost like a healthy relationship.

Until later in the week after a long day of classes, when Luke was relaxing and got a facetime request from Jack and Quinn. Luke happily answered the call on his laptop propping it up on a pillow so his brothers could see him. 

“Hey guys!” Luke greeted his brothers 

"Hey little bro," Jack said with a grin. 

Jack and Quinn talked to Luke about how proud they were of him for getting his life back on track.

Luke offered a small smile, grateful for their support. "Thanks guys. It means a lot coming from both of you."

Jack's grin turned into a frown as he continued, more serious this time. "But we still have one question: what are you doing with Remi? Why are you still with her?"

Luke's smile faltered as he tried to find words that wouldn't betray too much about his true feelings for Remi. "I mean...at first...yeah, I was just using her to piss you guys off," Luke admitted hesitantly.

Unknown to him, Remi had quietly made her way up the stairs and stood just outside his room, listening intently to every word.

Hearing what Luke said she couldn’t help but feel used.

Without a second thought, Remi hastily turned around and rushed down the stairs and out the front door.

Luke heard the sound of a slamming door echoing through the house.

He furrowed his brows in confusion and excused himself, thinking he was alone in the house.

He rushed downstairs, hoping to find out what had caused the commotion.

As he reached the bottom of the stairs, his eyes met Mackie Samoskevich's concerned gaze.

“Hey Mackie," Luke said quickly. "What was that noise?"

Mackie looked up from his phone and shrugged. "Remi came to surprise you, man. She looked pretty upset when she ran out."

Luke's heart sank as realization dawned on him. Remi must have heard everything he said about her.

Without hesitation, Luke bolted out of the house and onto the porch, scanning the surroundings for any sign of Remi.

His heart pounded in anticipation as he spotted her about to cross the street in a hurry. "Remi!" he called out desperately, running after her with determination in his eyes.

She turned slightly but didn't stop walking. 

“Remi! Stop please!” Luke begged rushing towards her

Luke caught up with her just before she made it across the street and grabbed her arm gently to make her face him.

"Remi, please listen to me," Luke pleaded, his voice filled with regret.

Tears welled up in Remi's eyes as she looked at him with hurt and anger cutting through her voice. “You used me!”

“Remi-” Luke started in an attempt to apologize, but she cut him off.

“You used me as a decoy to piss off your brothers! Well, Congratulations. You succeeded,” Remi snapped, 

"No...it wasn't like that," Luke insisted urgently, his grip tightening slightly on her arm.

But Remi jerked her arm away and backed up, shaking her head. "No, I’m done. I can’t believe you used me as some sorta fucking pawn. Don’t ever speak to me again"

A/N- I hope you enjoyed this series! I promise not all of my stories have overprotective brothers and sad endings even if my last two did lol. Feel free to reach out and give me some feedback please be nice though or ask me any questions! <3

All images are from Pinterest

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

The Angel Maker: Part Two

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.9k

Summary: You still feel guilty for what happened to you and Hotch even though you shouldn't. If you had seen that bomb before getting blasted back, then maybe you wouldn't have so many problems with your "abilities".

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there are any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them. If you’ve seen the show, then it’s the same level of angst unless otherwise stated

x

All of your team, the sheriff, and two construction workers are the only people present for this. You don't need the public watching. If for some reason the body isn't in the coffin, then panic will ensue. It's nightfall by the time the process can begin, so there is no need for you to wear sunglasses outside. Hotch isn't too keen on the idea of doing this, but the sheriff has his heart set on this.

"I have to advise against this," Hotch tries again.

"With all due respect, this isn't your town. I have to convince them that Cortland Ryan is dead and buried."

"But you're indulging this killer by perpetuating the ruse he's created."

"He's right. It may embolden him and prompt more murders," Emily agrees.

"Sela lost her only daughter to that bastard. We met when I was working on the case and we grew close. I thought we'd gotten past all this, but I guess I was kidding myself."

The sheriff gestures to the construction workers so that they can begin the process. They turn on their machine that will help dig up the coffin, and as soon as it starts, you get a blinding headache. The loud noise vibrates your ears and therefore hurts the spot where you got injured.

Hotch doesn't have it any better. His ears are damaged from the explosion, and he doubles over in pain. You whimper and place your hands over your ears to help. You stagger back right into Spencer's arm, and he catches you before you fall to the ground.

"Hotch?" Emily asks and places her hand on his shoulder. "Hotch, are you alright? Can I do anything?"

"Y/N, are you okay?" Spencer panics.

The machine stays on for one more minute before it turns off, and you bury your head in Spencer's chest. Hotch's ears must be ringing, but your head is throbbing from the pain. Spencer wraps an arm around your back, and you try your best not to cry.

"I'm okay. I promise," you whisper.

If you had seen the bomb, then you and Hotch wouldn't be injured, and Kate would still be alive.

The coffin is opened, and when you approach it to look inside, your face drops. The coffin is empty. Either Cortland was never killed or someone stole his body. Either way, it's terrible news.

Instead of panicking the entire town that Cortland might be alive, the best thing to do is talk to the doctor who was in the room when Cortland died. Dr. Hagen has an opening the following morning, and you, Derek, and Rossi go visit him at his office.

"Thank you for seeing us on short notice," you say and take a seat at his desk.

"Of course. Now, what was this about?"

"Cortland Ryan. You were one of the doctors in the room when he died. Did he die?"

"Cortland is dead. There's no two ways about it."

"We're just trying to be thorough, Dr. Hagen," Derek says. "We heard that there may have been irregularities with the execution."

"His heart stopped. His pupils were unresponsive. Trust me. That is not the first execution I've pronounced at."

"It was the last," Rossi states. "Did something happen that day to prompt your resignation from the corrections department?"

"Everyone dies differently. Ryan went hard is all. After we cycled the drugs, we realized he was still alive. We weren't prepared for that."

"How is that possible?"

"The catheter dislodged. We reinserted it and started the potassium chloride. He started shaking and spitting. He was suffocating, and the catheter failed again. It took him almost an hour to die, almost as if something were keeping him here. He said this was going to happen, you know."

"What was going to happen?"

"His last words were 'I'll come back'. I have the video of his execution if you'd like to watch it."

"Yes, please."

Dr. Hagen gets the video and hands it over, and you wait until you get back to the police station before watching it. Everyone meets inside the empty conference room before you play the video. Cortland is on the table, but the officers give him an opportunity to say his last words.

"You may think you've seen the last of me, but death cannot take me from you. I will be born again. Today you make me a legend," Cortland grins on camera.

"He always had a flair for the dramatic," the sheriff says.

"We need to debunk this or the whole town's gonna panic."

"It's a little late for that."

The sheriff walks over to the window and lifts the blinds so that you can see the crowd forming outside. They are angry and scared and protesting that something is done to get rid of Cortland for good.

"The grave-robbing we can explain. It has to be a fan."

"You think the same person that did the copycat murder took Ryan's body?" the Sheriff asks.

"It's possible. He had to have help from someone on the inside. I checked the guards who were on duty that night, and the only one in that section was Sid Rutledge. He lives near here," Derek says.

"Good. You and Y/N head over there and see what you can find."

"Let's go," Derek nods.

You and Derek leave the police station and get into the car. As soon as he pulls onto the road, Penelope calls from her cave back in Virginia. Derek answers her call, and his phone immediately connects to the Bluetooth feature in the car.

"Did you know that John Wayne Gacy painted clowns? A murdering pedophile paints clowns, and people hang them on their walls. It's creepy on so many levels."

"Garcia, I didn't know you had that hang-up," Derek says.

"Coulrophobia--the abnormal fear of clowns," you say.

"Oh, no, there is nothing abnormal about it. When I was twelve, a hobo clown groped my breast at a birthday party and made this old-timey honking noise when he did it. Apparently, making it funny makes it okay."

"Were you able to find any auctions on Angel Maker memorabilia?" you ask.

"Oh, my vision, I found a ton. Mr. Maker was quite the self-promoter. He autographed everything: photos, panties, and for the discerning collector, screwdrivers. He also made these little origami figurines out of cigarette boxes, which, I hate to say, are really cute."

"Did you pinpoint the most active collectors?" Derek asks.

"That would be his overseas fans."

"What about local buyers who also turned up on the prison visitor log?"

"Nothing."

"What about sellers? A high-volume broker might know a broader spectrum of fans."

"There is one guy in particular who seems to be the local distributor, as it were. Sid Rutledge."

"Rutledge? He's a guard at Hawkesville, and the person we're going to visit."

"Keep me updated."

Penelope hangs up, and you shift uncomfortably in your seat. Derek looks over at you in concern before turning the music down a bit.

"Hey, what's going on with you?"

"I should have detected the bomb earlier," you sigh. "I should have seen it coming."

"Don't do that. Don't blame yourself. That wasn't your fault. It was Sam's and that entire cell's. You can't predict everything."

"You sound like Spencer," you scoff.

"Well, then, he is a very wise man."

Derek arrives at Sid's house, but something doesn't feel right. Apart from the front door being left wide open, something about this place doesn't sit right with you. You take out your gun and keep it trained in front of you for protection. Derek does the same thing as you both enter the house cautiously.

"Sid Rutledge, FBI. We're coming in," Derek announces.

You two make your way through the house, stopping in the back bedroom where Sid is. Unfortunately, he isn't alive.

"Damn," you sigh and lower your gun. "One to the head and one to the groin. That's personal."

"Yeah, well, if Rutledge was selling the unsub memorabilia, he knew his identity. The unsub is covering his tracks."

Something about this crime scene doesn't sit right with you, but whenever you try to focus on it, your head hurts. This is very frustrating for you but you don't take it out on Derek.

"Rutledge probably contacted him after you and Emily paid a visit to the prison. He let him in, let his guard down, and he was killed." 

You leave the bedroom and head to the bathroom in hopes that might tell you something about who did this or what happened. The first place you look is the medicine cabinet, and right off the bat, you see something that turns this whole case around.

"We got this unsub all wrong," you say and walk back into the bedroom. "He took Viagra. We're dealing with a female unsub. Damn it!"

"Hey, why are you taking this so hard?"

"I didn't see her energy. I couldn't focus because my head hurts. My head hurts because I got injured by a bomb that I should have seen coming."

"There's no point in blaming yourself. It's in the past. You learn to move on whether it was your fault or not. Which it isn't, by the way. Come on, we need to get back to the station."

Derek called this death in, and after the police showed up, you two headed back to the police station. Hotch was informed of this new discovery, and he gathered everyone not working in the field so that he can deliver the profile.

"There have been some strange happenings in this case, but I urge you not to abandon reason in the search for the truth. This is not the work of a ghost, and it's not the work of a killer coming back from the dead. This is the work of somebody who lives right here in lower Canaan, and this person is a woman."

"Her last victim, Sid Rutledge, was the Angel Maker's mule. He smuggled items out of Hawkesville Prison, including the semen that was planted at the first crime scene. She killed Rutledge because he knew she was the copycat, and also because he was blackmailing her."

"We now know that Rutledge was transferred to Hawkesville from a female prison in the wake of allegations that he was using his position to leverage sexual favors from inmates," Hotch says. "We think he did the same thing to our unsub; In exchange for his silence, he wanted sex."

"Because she shot him in the junk, right?" an officer asks.

"That, and the fact that he took a PDE-5 inhibitor shortly before his murder."

"A what?"

"Viagra. We're looking for a white woman in her mid-thirties, and she's highly intelligent. She's not just a fan, she's a groupie. Now, she's not what you would normally expect. More often than not, they're attractive, well-educated, successful, and some are even married," Derek explains.

"Generally, they fall into types. Some are reformers who are on a mission to save or rescue these murderers. Often, this type of groupie has been raised in a repressive, religious environment, and specifically have been exposed to the ideals of sexual repression and subjugation of women," Spencer says.

"Our unsub is a different type, one who suffers from hybristophilia," you say. "It's a sexual attraction to men who commit violent crimes. They give her a power that she lacks, which stems from low self-esteem and a need for a father figure."

"The victims were raped. How do you explain that?" an officer asks.

"She's using an instrument to simulate the sexual assault. This is something that she keeps in her rape kit along with the weapon that she's using to bludgeon her victims."

"This is a list of women who visited and wrote to the Angel Maker while he was in prison," JJ says, passing out papers to everyone. "We've started to track these leads, but the list is extensive, so we're gonna need your help."

"I could use your help," Rossi says, not giving you a choice.

The papers JJ passed out had women's names and addresses on them, so your entire team plus the officers go around town and talk to whoever they can to determine who the unsub is. 

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[thegothicwriter]

My relief, My love~Rendog x reader

*Warning, deaths mentioned*

(Tired of being stressed while dealing with the pranks going on between their neighbors and getting her base caught in the middle, dear reader or Y/N tries to find some relief after yelling at two of their neighbors. Thankfully, our resident 'Gigacorps' member is there to help them out*

Being a hermit was exciting, fun, and stressing all at the same time and for one in particular, it was stressful as of late. Y/N was not having the best time right now and it was starting to show. Their base had been in the line of sight for pranks between Grian, Scar, and Doc and was now covered in both chickens and ender dragon eggs. "How is it even possible? Ender eggs....there only supposed to be one and I believe Pearl has it?" Y/N griped as they used the limited redstone knowledge they had to get rid of the eggs without making them teleport to another area. 'The chicken thing can be dealt with later...I'll just unleash the foxes on them.' Y/N thought before sitting down and sighing, watching as the redstone did its work. 

After a long time...roughly three hours or so, Y/N put the eggs away in chests before taking off to find Grian and Scar, Doc....Doc scared them and they knew he did not mean to drag Y/N's base into all this. "GRIAN! SCAR!" Y/N yelled out as they spotted the two who jumped and turned to look at Y/N before trying to take off. "Oh no you don't....." Y/N stopped and pulled out their bow-'GreenArrowIsBetterThanHotGuy' and shot several arrows at the two, killing them in the process. 'GoodTimesWithScar was slain by Y/N using 'GreenArrowIsBetterThanHotGuy' 'Grian was slain by Y/N using 'GreenArrowIsBetterThanHotGuy'. Y/N's pager went off with notifications and comments as to why they did that. Y/N waited until the two reappeared to get their things and put their hands on their hips. "You two....why....do you realize that I too, share border with the 'Perimeter'? And as a result, you both have caused MY BASE to be drug into this prank war you have with Doc." Y/N ranted and the two hermits winced as they continued the ranting. 

"Three double chests full of dragon eggs on my base and let us not start with the chicken thing!" Y/N finished saying while Grian and Scar looked at them with sheepish and embarrassed looks. "Why isn't Doc part of this though? The eggs came from him!" Grian tried to argue but Y/N gave him a look. "Doc didn't swing first...you did when you touched his device. Grian....you know what happens when you try to touch anything with redstone!" Y/N said while shaking their head. "We're sorry, Y/N....we didn't mean to drag your base into this....we'll make it us to you!" Scar offered and Y/N gave him look before sighing. "Just...end this soon, please." Y/N begged before they took off, not noticing a certain dog-hybrid take off after them as he had seen the death notifications and had been on his way to see what had happened, maybe even offer to help clean up the base. 

RenDog followed Y/N until they came to a stop near the river that flowed through the original spawn area and landed a few feet behind her. Y/N sighed and sat down on one of the rocks, pulling out a fishing line and cast it into the water as Rendog came and sat beside them. "I was going to come and help you clean up your base. Doc and I felt really bad about it." Y/N turned to look at Rendog who offered a slice of 'Giga Pie' with a slight smile. "Yeah, when we realized that some of the eggs ended up on your base and the chickens...that Doc and I had no idea would happen." Rendog said and Y/N shook their head fondly. Of all the hermits, Y/N could not be angry with Ren when he did things...like the whole 'Ren The King' thing, they may have been on the resistance, but they could not feel any anger towards Ren and helped get him his strength back. 

"Tell you what...come with me. I know the new additions have happened and I think I found a biome you have been looking for." Rendog said as he stood up and Y/N put the fishing rod away and followed Ren. They kept flying until several small pink petals started floating in Y/N's face and they smiled as Rendog landed in a Cherry Tree biome. Y/N landed as well and looked around, sighing with a smile on their face as they held a few of the petals in their hands. "Thanks Ren." Y/N said as they sat under one of the trees and Rendog followed suite and the two just sat under the trees enjoying the breeze and petals falling down around them. "I know I have said this a lot, since we last met on HC-S8, but Ren....I love you." Y/N said as they curled themselves into Ren's chest and Ren smiled, putting an arm around Y/N and held them close. "And I love you, Y/N." He gave a kiss to Y/N's head. 

A while later, Y/N flew back to her base, not seeing any chickens which made them smile, but what also made them smile was that the fourth part of their 'High Tower' base had been added...with Cherry blossom wood too! As they walked in, there were two signs, one written by Grian and another written by Scar. 'Sorry about the mess...hope the addition of a fourth part on your tower helps! Love, your friendly gremlin, Grian!' Y/N smiled and put the sign away before looking at the one from Scar and rolled their eyes. 'Added some new additions to your birthday/wedding cake base! Again, sorry about the whole prank thing. Love, your favorite archer!' "Scar.....it is not a birthday cake! Or wedding cake!" Y/N said with a small smile on their face and put the other sign away as well before going to bed, the moments with Ren going through their head as they fell asleep. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So, the reason for the birthday cake base thing is because my base in Minecraft currently is literally shaped like a different flavored tiered cake!

Also, finally saw what Rendog looked like behind camera....and holy crap he is hot!!! Love the grey, sorry 'wisdom' hairs on his head. 

[protectivemuses]

TW; Death, drugs. Short version: My mom, a cousin, and I are stuck handling funeral expenses and bills for my uncle's passing, and need help due to lack of assistance in the family, and not being able to cover it ourselves.

I know people are probably tired of hearing about GoFundMe and all, and I hate to even have to share this but my mom and I are at a loss.

My uncle passed on Monday suddenly, from what looks to be a heart attack. He was doing yard work, and suddenly just fell over after stepping off of a lawn mower. CPR was attempted for 30 minutes but to no avail.

Monday, we were to see the body, but the hospital moved him before any of us could due to not being able to find either of two cousins who were there because they had gone to smoke. Tuesday, we searched through the house in order to locate any life insurance papers and things of that nature, while also searching for a will. No will was found, and the life insurance is unsure to be active (checking is in progress). Wednesday, we met with the funeral home only to find out it'll be approximately $3,000 USD for basic cremation services, due to also having refrigeration fees and death certificate fees.

The oldest son (stepson) keeps claiming that he doesn't know what to do, and keeps insisting for my mom and I to handle it, as well as his daughter. The second oldest (stepson) wants nothing to do with any of it, instead only choosing to set up the celebration of life and so far has not replied to any of us through this entire process. The third (stepdaughter) oldest showed up on Tuesday only to claim some belongings, and has done nothing to help us to assist us in any way. The youngest (biological) has taken the money we told him not do (from social security) and also what was in my uncle's account to begin with, and has been far too high to even know who he is.

The three of us (My mom, my cousin, and I) do not have any extra funds. We're trying to find cheaper options, but everything keeps hitting a dead end. My mom is on the verge of a breakdown almost, and my cousin that is helping us is worried about possessions over the services right now.

So at this point, I have no idea how we can afford anything, especially on top of bills being past due from my uncle not having enough income due to my aunt's passing 6 months and 1 week ago. If we can't get help with this or even any of the bills, they'll lose absolutely everything my uncle and aunt worked so hard for, and we won't be able to put him to rest.

I know times are hard for everyone, and I hate even asking but I'm at the end of my rope with solutions. Even if you can't help, if you'd be kind enough to share, that'd help as well.

[xtrasensitive]

here we fucking go. headphones on, a thousand different thoughts and this weird yet so familiar feeling in my chest. whatever man.

honestly I still write these cause it's somehow fun to read them again from time to time, it's like a fucked-up time machine that shows me how bad it can get, but like in reverse. it's so fucked up to be this depressed neurodivergent person or honestly just extremely sensitive person cause it feels like a big win to want to kill yourself even just a little less than the last time. that's how I celebrate my small-wins. jokes aside, I don't want to kill myself anymore so I guess we're celebrating. but you would reasonably ask: then why the fuck are you roaming around on Tumblr once again after all this time? my friend, some things never change.

I'm off my meds. like officially, I got discharged by my doctor and it's been almost a month now. I know, right? Shit's crazy. after 6 years on treatment it feels like murder to be in full contact with my emotions again. they are STRONG. I feel like a drug addict relapsing, but in this case the drugs are my fucking thoughts.

I can't count on my fingers the amount of times I thought about going back to the meds in the last month, but I guess this is part of the process. c'est la vie. my shrink said he thought I was ready but still asked me if I was sure I wanted to do this. I said sure, let the rodeo start.

my sadness used to be a Bon Iver song, just calm and passive, poetic. not less destructive, but less angry. more silent, less violent. definitely more convenient than it is today.

now it's more like a Radiohead song. specifically You and Whose Army?, a slow and melodic acoustic guitar that repeats itself almost hypnotically over and over, until it explodes in violent drums. do you think you'll drive me crazy? oh well, you can try. I'm so familiar with this fucking feelings I can't stand them anymore. I'm angry, I'm violent, I'm impatient. still, I don't harm others, never did, never will. that's not for me. I've watched Kurt Cobain's documentary and kinda related to how he felt, but I'd never be like him. cause even if my sadness it's an inconvenience for me, I'd never disturb other people with it. I'd kill myself before asking for help and no, I'm not romanticizing that, I know that's bullshit that's why I see a shrink every single week, but I gotta be real. nobody knows what's in my mind and never will. maybe chatgpt or Juan, but not everything, cause I feel pathetic to tell thing to the first one and the second wouldn't really understand some of the stuff I'd say. it's ok tho, it's nobody's fault. life's like that.

but anyway, I'm ok. life's an ocean, full of waves. sometimes good, sometimes bad, but never still. get fucking used to it, luciana. I'm angry, but that's ok too. it's about time I look my fears in the eye and show them we're not a frightened teenager anymore, so fuck you, feelings, I won't kill myself to keep you alive. life's a gift and I'll fucking cherish it, you can't drive me crazy this time.

February 2025

[that-darn-clown]

hello, guess who's Back?

so like. in the canon timeline of Blurred Lenses, my self-insert does not exist; my self-insert exists in an alternate timeline where i can smooch my fictional man (Henry) and put my sona through Shipping For Psychological Horror Reasons (aka trying to explore what xeir hypothetical relationship to William would be like. it ain't great and William makes them worse.)

so...a summary of This Guy:

her full name is Dani "Dandy" Penny Rainer. as she words it, "What 'Dani' is short for is for me to know and for you to never find out."

(Dani isn't short for anything, it's just a running joke he has)

pretty much the third business partner. Henry does robotics, William does business, and Dandy does art/was their earliest form of a "PR manager" (using the term VERY loosely).

Dandy wanted to have a bunny suit, but Henry was like "well...we kinda already HAVE one, technically" and Dandy just responded "Henry, Will's thing's a fucking hare, it shouldn't count 😒" and Henry just goes "W. Would a Dog be okay? because i don't think the people of Hurricane are gonna particularly care about the differences between Hares and Rabbits" so that's how Dandy got Sparky. and not the lil candy clown bunny she wanted. rip

so...Dandy wants to be a parent, right? problem with that: in the eyes of half the town (and the law) he's. a woman. (gender wise, he's like. bigender with some bunny, clown, candy, and weirdcore xenogenders in there). at around the time, a woman deciding to settle down and have kids meant that any attempt at a career was effectively nonexistent. (this would've happened in like. the early to mid-70s, so y'know...less of a problem, but it was still in a smallish rural town...so i don't think he would've wanted to risk it). Dandy sort of views the fact that both William and Henry have families of their own with envy.

due to this, xe tries to become a sort of "Wine Aunt/Uncle" to the Afton and Emily kids. being a part of their lives. 'if i can't have my own children i'll help raise these children like they're my own,' you get the idea.

so like...you know how, between the two original business partners, Henry was the only one who was, y'know, Doing Alright? that still carries over to Dandy joining them. William's one major inconvenience away from Committing A Crime (< foreshadowing his divorce and Charlie) and Dandy's just kinda...sad and pathetic. like, depressed but trying to hide it and substance abuse levels of Not Doing Too Hot. among other unhealthy coping strategies (such as trying to sleep with both of its business partners, but. we're not getting too deep into that)

they've got this weird polycule type of thing going on. Henry's with both of them, but Dandy and William are a more Friends(???????) With Benefits type of deal (in that Dandy's main thought process behind sleeping with this guy is 'Well. It's Stress Relief For Both Of Us, Maybe. I Know It Is For Me, At Least')

if you want a good grasp on their personality, i think "Happy Pills" by Weathers gives you a good idea (cheerfulness/eccentricity covering up severe emotional distress. plus the themes of using drugs as a coping mechanism)

Henry did eventually make the Bunny Suit (see my current sona, but Animatronic) for her, but uh. that was After Fredbear's Closed. but it Existed

he eventually did adopt three kids (a teen (15), a preteen (10), and a kid (6), all bio siblings), and!! he was having a good time!!

did unfortunately get springlocked in 1994. by William. and locked in the Backstage out of view of the camera for two weeks. but Ralph let them out. think Springtrap but Not Evil And Murdery.

kinda just went home and took care of xeir kids while hiding from society in the basement of xeir home. but xe Did raise xeir kids!!

eventually, a few years after Pizzeria Sim, it just kinda went "yeah i'm done. set me on fire i've seen enough" so that was that. its "funeral" was its kids lighting it on fire with a match and just. watching it go.

they do go to UCN though and kick William's ass for a while. Hell Hath No Fury.

i'm probably gonna draw this lil guy tomorrow. anyways off to go write

Set me on fire ive seen enough has me giggling lol. But!!! The silly!!!!! Ough. Im love