#that i got fed up and word vomited

[liobi]

I've been seeing a weirdly high level of Dungeon Meshi discourse that just. Completely misses the point lately and I'm honestly kinda frustrated about it. So.

First point of address. Laios isn't canonically autistic. He is written in a way that lends itself to the reading of him being neuro divergent, and I think if he was a real person he would be on the spectrum, but the world of Dunmeshi itself does not have the concept of autism (yet). If it did you can bet the human enthusiast Kabru would have immediately pegged Laios as such. As for Falin, she'd also likely be ND but closer to ADHD judging by the relatively small amount we get to actually see her existing as a character.

NOW THAT THAT'S OUT OF THE WAY. Toshiro isn't being ableist with his expectations of Laios picking up on social queues and being angry that he doesn't get it! Laios is legitimately rude to him! In terms of micro-aggressions, he does it constantly and unintentionally. He straight up calls Toshiro strange looking and fucks up his name! But the thing is, Toshiro's biggest flaw is that he applies his cultural norms to his interactions with everyone, regardless of culture. Chilchuck and Mick have a small talk about how Toshiro, with zero indication of feelings beforehand or any romantic involvement, just asks Falin to marry him and expects it to go well, all because she looked at a bug and he thought she was the most unique and different woman he had ever met (small aside, almost all the women he had met at this point are either family, his dad's mistress that is more of a mom to him than his own mom, his retainers, and his uhhh indentured servants/Literal Slaves)(Itsuzumi is a whole ass other conversation that I'm not even remotely qualified to talk about). He's a man of high social status that's never had to think about that fact before, never had to examine the power and privilege he has at his disposal. As a result, his expectations of people to learn his cultural norms, something he's been used to in his homeland, go unmet and are a source of friction.

Here's a real life example. In the US Midwest, if a person slaps their knees and/or stands up, sometimes saying some combination of "Welp/it's getting late..." They're politely telling their guests "get the fuck out of my house." It's impolite to ask people to leave, even politely. This is absolutely arcane and insane, why would anyone do this? Society!

Toshiro has grown up in a place where he's had to be hyper-aware of these things, where he can't verbally state what he literally wants or means. And he's conformed! He's decided to do what's expected of him. Laios, on the other hand, instead chafed against the expectations put on him as the child of the village elder and against the way people treated Falin for being different. He gave up his privilege (assured house, home, fiancee, position and responsibility within their town) in order to pursue a freedom beyond the society he saw as wrong. Laios is fundamentally uninterested in people (as opposed to monsters and demi-humans which is why he's uniquely suited to dealing with the multicultural aftermath of The Whole Thing), but he values his loved ones and personal code of honor enough to do what he needs to protect those things, even if it means going against society.

Anyways this is a long winded way of saying Toshiro and Laios are complex characters and narrative foils of each other in the early narrative and shouldn't be turned into one dimensional parodies of themselves for the purpose of Hot Takes. Thanks.

[rafecameronssl4t]

Can I please get smth with rafe x thorton!reader where shes confronted by topper’s ex girlfriend or something bc she got cheated on

Ruined Heels || Rafe Cameron x Thorton!reader

A/n: kinda sorta dislike this but thank you for the request!!

Warnings: vomiting? swearing idk what else lmk

Word count: 952

MASTERLIST (rafe x thornton!reader au masterlist)

Divider by @yoonitos

mood board “You ain't never had the feds investigate you. You ain't never had the bad hoes wanna date you.”

Your heeled foot taps rhythmically on the polished wooden floor, perfectly in sync with the pounding beat of the music that fills the house, the bass reverberating through every room.

“And then she started a hissy fit like she always does,” Sarah says, rolling her eyes dramatically as she recounts Kiara’s latest outburst. Her voice carries a mix of exasperation and amusement, a combination that makes you snort with laughter. You tilt your head back, letting the cool liquid slide down your throat before setting the empty glass on the table beside you.

“Hey,” Rafe’s voice cuts through the chatter and music, drawing your attention. He strides over with a confident smirk, “Wanna go upstairs?” He asks, his fingers drumming lightly on your crossed knee, sending a shiver up your spine as you look up at him.

“Gross,” Sarah mutters under her breath, clearly unimpressed with Rafe’s suggestion. You glance at her, “Will you be okay?” you ask, concern lacing your voice as you prepare to stand. Rafe reaches out to help you, his hands gentle yet firm as they grasp your waist, pulling you to your feet. His fingers brush against your dress, tugging it back into place as it rides up slightly.

“Yeah, I think I saw Kaycee in the kitchen,” Sarah replies with a sigh, her expression softening as she gets up from the sofa. She gives you a reassuring nod, her eyes briefly meeting yours before she turns towards the kitchen.

You nod back as Rafe leads you away. His hand remains on the small of your back, as you both weave through the crowd to get to the stairs. Just as you’re about to step onto the first stair, a blonde girl suddenly grabs your arm, pulling you back with unexpected force.

“Excuse me?” you say, furrowing your brow at the girl, your confusion evident. Rafe pulls you protectively against him, his grip tightening as his anger flares. “What the hell is your problem?” he demands, his voice sharp and furious.

The girl stands before you, her appearance a stark contrast to her fury. Tears stream down her face, her hair a tangled mess, and her lipstick smeared across her chin. Her hands tremble as she points a finger accusingly at you. “Your brother is the biggest fucking douche I’ve ever met!” she shouts, her voice cracking with emotion.

You and Rafe exchange incredulous glances, both stunned by her outburst. The disbelief in your eyes mirrors Rafe’s as you struggle to process the situation. “I’m sorry, who exactly are you?” you ask, raising an eyebrow. She scoffs, “Caroline, your brother’s girlfriend! Or ex-girlfriend now, since he just dumped me for someone else!” she yells furiously.

You never supported your brother’s behavior of sleeping around and breaking up with girls left and right, but practically everyone on the island knew what kind of person he was. Topper was notorious for his inability to maintain a relationship for any length of time.

“What’s that got to do with me?” you ask, shrugging nonchalantly as her eye twitches in frustration. Rafe stands behind you, his hand resting on your hip, watching the scene unfold with amusement. “He’s—” Caroline begins, her voice rising in anger, but you cut her off sharply, “You knew what kind of guy my brother was, so why did you even bother?”

Caroline stands there in silence, her eyes darting around as the partygoers watch. She takes a hesitant step forward, and you raise an eyebrow, curious about her next move. Suddenly, her face contorts with a pained expression. She brings the back of her hand to her mouth, but it’s too late. She bends over, vomiting on the floor, causing a collective gasp from the crowd.

“Oh my god,” you mutter, stepping back quickly to avoid the spreading mess. Rafe, standing behind you, looks like he’s about to gag, his hand covering his mouth. You instinctively reach out and pat Caroline’s back, offering what little comfort you can as she remains hunched over.

“What’s going on here?” Topper’s voice booms as he pushes through the crowd. He reaches you, his eyes scanning the scene before landing on Caroline. He sighs loudly, fingers pressing into his temples as if to ward off a headache. “Shit,” he mutters under his breath.

Caroline slowly lifts her head, her eyes meeting Topper’s with a mix of anger and embarrassment. Without warning, she swats your hand away, straightens up, and runs off, disappearing into the crowd of partygoers. The crowd parts for her, whispering amongst themselves, while you and Rafe exchange a bewildered glance.

Topper stands there, rubbing his forehead, clearly frustrated. “Great, just great,” he mumbles. “Did you really have to break it off tonight?” You mutter, giving your brother an annoyed look as he rolls his eyes “Oh, I’m sorry, Princess. Did she ruin your shoes or something?” Topper lifts his hands up in mock surrender, his tone sarcastic. “Get fucked, Topper,” You scoff, “let’s go,” You pull Rafe with you.

"Good to see you, Top," Rafe pats his shoulder, a smile gracing his lips before he lets you walk him upstairs (walk him like a dog sis).

[jlheon]

୨ৎ — sunny day (sjy)

pairing. fake bf & best friend! sim jaeyun x fem! reader genre. angst wc. 1380 notes. i'm sorry jake sucks here it's jover guys library.

🗯️ etxra peng note. hai this is for @okwonyo's celestial ballet event! guys i don't think this is my best work but i love jake & bea so i had to pick this song!! this might just be word vomit ヽ(´ー｀)

synopsis. you’re sick of the lines of jake and your fake relationship are too blurred

last night you had yet another fight with jake.

jake is your boyfriend, to everyone around you. but behind closed doors, he is nothing but your fake boyfriend. 

he asked you to do him a favor, you owed him after he helped you pass your physics final, but you didn’t think it would involve being dragged along to parties his rich parents hosted.

you both were just now graduating high school and would go your separate ways for college. which in theory sounds good for your lie, the fake relationship could end due to ‘long distance’, but it was not good for your heart.

in the past semester, you fell hard for sim jaeyun.

there was no turning back, you were in too deep. 

he was so sweet to you, in front of others, and behind closed doors. 

though, obviously you both respected each other's boundaries since your relationship wasn’t real. that was until a couple weeks ago.

jake had kissed you when he was drunk and so were you. it was a pretty heated kiss but it didn’t go any further.

unfortunately for you, you still woke up next to him in his room the morning after. 

“you’re awake,” jake breaks the silence, sitting up against his headboard. 

“i am,” you sit up next to him, rubbing your eyes. “did something happen last night?”

“um,” jake clears his throat. “jay said we kissed.”

“what?” you look at him with wide eyes. “like a lot?”

“apparently…” jake says, looking at the photo of sunghoon with you two in the background. it’s barely visible but you can see jake caging you against the wall.

“well, that’s the first and the last time,” you brush it off, stepping onto the floor.

“yup,” jake scratches the back of his neck. “let's go get breakfast.”

that wasn’t the last time. not at all.

since then you have kissed jake a total of ten times. yes, you counted. having taken note of each one and writing about what it felt like in a locked note. 

it was weird to kiss jake, but not in a weird way like you opposed it. admittedly still weird since there was no need for you to kiss. it wasn’t like the cliché movies where your friends would pressure you to kiss to prove your relationship. you even kissed when it was just you and him. 

it was rather pointless but you couldn’t help but wish he would do it every time you were together. which he did up until a couple of weeks ago.

when you two were casually sitting around you got fed up with how the lines of your strictly fake relationship were blurring. it’s not like you didn’t want to be physically affectionate with him you’ve done it all your life, but the kissing was way too much. going way over the walls of your friendship and confusing you. 

when you brought it up to him, asking what you two were even doing anymore, he lashed out. saying that he’s sorry for making you confused but something along the lines of ‘kissing you makes me less stressed’. 

then why doesn’t he just get a real girlfriend then?

though you knew if he were to stage the fake break up with you and move onto another girl you would rip your hair out at the sight. 

it was not the last time you two got into an argument.

you laid your heart out in front of jake. telling him that kissing and physical affection aren’t a what fake couples do. you were basically a real couple at this point.

he did not like it when you brought it up.

“it’s all fake ____,” he told you with his sickeningly sweet honey voice. “stop letting it get to your head.” he ruffled your hair.

at the end of each argument, you always end up in his arms. 

no matter how confusing and short-tempered jake is he never wants to be the reason you’re upset. 

today was different though.

“get out,” you tell him, eyes glued to the floor. 

“excuse me?” jake scoffs.

“you heard me,” you raise your head and attempt to smoothen your voice. “i said get out, jake.”

“you’re being ridiculous ____,” jake shakes his head and rolls his eyes.

“i’m not,” you retort, crossing your arms. “i’m sick of this. whatever we have going on.”

“you’re just going to throw away our ten years of friendship?” he seethes.

“i don’t think is just a friendship anymore, jae!” you yell in frustration, walking towards your bedroom window, and opening it to let the fresh air in. 

“how could it not be? nothing between us has changed!” jake argues, grabbing his hoodie and throwing it over his shoulders. 

“everything is different!-”

“nothing is different because this is all fake-”

“fuck off jae, you’re the one who kissed me,” you face the window and let the cool night air hit your cheeks. hoping the tears forming in your eyes would disappear. 

“it was a mistake ____,”  

“then why didn’t it stop after the first time?” you whisper, mostly to yourself but you hope he hears it too over the soft patter of the pouring rain. “just get out.”

you hear the rummaging around behind you of jake putting on his shoes. his shoulder harshly bumped against yours, as he exits through the window and into the dark and rainy summer night.

you don’t sleep at all.

in the morning you are mad at yourself. maybe he’s right, you’re too sensitive. he just kissed you, not confess his love for you. 

for the next day, you stay in your room under the covers. millions of notifications from your phone, all from none other than jake sim. 

you can’t deal with him right now, not today. maybe tomorrow, we’re okay.

while scrolling through your chats you’ve noticed that he only ever texts you at night. call in the morning when you wake. you can’t just give in to him easily no matter how bad you want to be back in his arms even if he acts like your lover one day and like he doesn’t need you the next.

he’s all you know, the only person you can one-hundred percent find comfort in. 

when you finally reach for your phone, sick of the constant vibrations, you press his contact. 

“____?” he answers in his softest voice, you break.

“i’m sorry for yesterday,” you speak, voice up an octave higher than normal. “don’t be mad at me please.” 

“i’m not mad at you,” jake pauses between his sentence and hesitates before his next word. “pretty.” that’s a new nickname.

the call abruptly ended. the shuffling from his side of the line subsided by the sounds of him ending the call. you’re so lazy to call him back, no energy to do anything but lay in your bed.

like clockwork jake’s familiar head of fluffy brown hair appears at your window. sliding it open as gently as possible and letting himself inside. 

you notice the bright sky behind him. the pretty wash of blue that differs from the storm the previous day. a sunny day.

neither of you speak as jake shakes off his sweater and shoes.

he approaches you on the bed, lifting your duvet and sliding into the vacant spot next to you, his spot. 

jake reaches out for you, arms wrapping around your waist as he moves you to settle atop his chest. resting your head in the crook of his neck and his hands in your hair. with your skin on mine again.

“you know i don’t mean it,” jake breaks the silence. “right?”

“mean what?” 

“when i kiss you,” he clarifies. “i didn’t mean for you to take it the wrong way. you’re a great girl ____, i just don’t think we’re right for each other. 

“that’s okay. i can’t imagine losing you because of a breakup,” you lie. you would take all the risks to be with jake sim for real if it meant being with him but that isn’t what your future holds. 

“so we’re good?” jake asks nervously.

“always,” you say, a smile on your face even though you know you should shut this down for your sanity. 

it’s easy if i pretend.

[wonryllis]

previous poll won fic: watermelon sugar ( jake )

TEASER!!!

GOT MY EYES ON YOU (revamp) · heeseung

strangers to lovers classical trope, college au, popular frat guy with quiet girl trope, quite literally only has eyes for his girl, loves to make her heart race tropes kinda thing. lotss of fluff, smut, some sprinkles of angst and a happy ending. typical popular frat & basketball captain!heeseung with his shy and inexperienced!angel. the always chased after guy chasing someone for the first time. the 'fuck i didn't know i got the hots for someone like that' trope. my writing was not that good then so will be heavily revamping this series into a oneshot(new scenes) with probably the third installment included. like 15k word vomit probably??

DADDY ISSUES: MY LITTLE GIRL (revamp) · jay

neighbour to lovers, age gap (like 7 years), romance, smut, comfort angst, fluff, happy ending, doctor(might change that)!jay with his doll!girl, heavy on daddy issues and dark topics alike. jay literally always at his girl's beck and call, he cares about you a lottttt trope. the "i know you can do it, but let me do it for you" trope. did i mention it starts with jay babysitting you? kinda ddlg concept idk? he's like your pillar, comfort person and just everything you have ever needed. practically your dream man come to life. first part was 16k so will include the next part and make it a oneshot but if it gets like 25k-30k then i'll probably do it in two parts.

CALL ME DESTINY (new) · jake

an online to offline love au, loosely based off of the cdrama love o2o, college setting, smut, literally tooth rooting fluff and crack, angst... what's that? dumb x dumber couple with their fed up friends, slight misunderstandings and miscommunications but it's just full of crack no hard feelings. flirty nerd!jake with his online game mentor!crush. know each other online and offline but don't know it's the same person. the 'im crazy about her but i don't have the guts to tell her' trope. they're just so over each and everyone can see it but them, about 30-40% done. hmm i got no idea how long it'll be maybe 10k or more not sure.

[star-stilinski]

(repost of an old deleted fic!)

why aren’t we talking about this dylan HELLOO??? new girl LITERALLY fed us and none of us are looking.

read pt 2 here!

like imagine this is (normal!universe) stiles, senior year, and he chickened out of asking his dream girl (and one of his best friends) to prom. now, he’s sat in the back of the room sulking as you slow dance with some douchebag who’s feeling you up too enthusiastically.

eventually, he ends the miserable night dragging his feet behind scott, who had the brilliant idea of getting a hotel room. his idea was formed, of course, to be apart of some trashy rager a junior was throwing. stiles was only mildly interested. he’d get to see you, but he’d have to do so with that douche attached to your hip, thinking he was gonna get lucky.

he’s not expecting this, though.

you’re sitting outside one of the rooms at the end of the hall. head in your hands, hair down and messier than before.

he had left scott to get some air (and totally not to look for you. what? he got worried).

“…you okay?”

and when you look up at him, his heart skips. your makeup is all smudged and your hair is a bit messy. teary-eyed, trembling lip. 

you’re the most beautiful girl stiles has ever seen.

“I… I don’t know.” you answer, wiping your nose. he approaches softly and hesitates before sitting next to you. you both stare at an odd looking painting on the hallway wall. 

“stiles.” you hum after a long moment. it’s not a question.

“yeah?”

“do boys think I’m ugly?”

his face screws up, confused and a bit appalled. was this a test? you? ugly? “what?”

“do boys think-“

“yeah, I heard you. what makes you think that?” his tone twists on accident, sounding a bit like he was saying ‘are you stupid?’. he silently curses himself as you sniffle.

“jake wanted to… he asked me… he didn’t ask me, but he started to take off my dress,” you explain quietly, “and I didn’t want to. and he told me that I should because most of the lacrosse guys would never give me a chance and I could stay a virgin for a long time if I didn’t sleep with him.”

it kinda word vomits out of you, but it feels better to say it out loud. more like jake was in the wrong and less like he was right. but part of you wondered still.

when you turn back to stiles, it’s because he hasn’t spoken. and you kind of wish you had just kept looking at the sort of ugly painting because the way stiles looks at you…

it’s like you hung the moon.

lips parted, brows upturned. the glint in his brown eyes from the dim yellow light, the way his bow tie hangs off his neck, the way his chest moves to breathe deeper when your eyes meet. his hands twitch closer, like he wants to hold you, but he doesn’t.

“boys don’t think you’re ugly.”

he’s breathless, you realize. his tone is all lost and whisper-like. his face inches closer to yours and you suck in a silent breath.

“jake is probably one of the most obtuse guys on the planet.” his voice picks up into that silly one he uses to cheer you up. you could hear it from a mile away. “you know he’s failing every class except gym? yeah, even econ. and coach likes him. it takes a whole lot of stupid to get to that point.”

you giggle, but it’s still a laugh full of tears as you pinch the skirt of your prom dress.

“I mean, cmon, look at you. did he rub off on you?” stiles pauses. “wrong choice of words, whoops.”

you laugh again, wiping your eyes. it smudges you mascara worse and stiles dawns a crooked smile. he speaks again, with more confidence than he started with.

“I’m just saying, maybe you’re not as smart as I thought you were. if you’re letting jake get the best of you. seriously.”

stiles lifts his hand to wipe at the mascara, catching a stray tear. his hand leaves your cheek reluctantly after he admires your lips, and he sighs.

“you’re… beautiful. you’re an angel, a princess. you’re what guys dream about when they get sappy and want a picket fence and two dogs and a perfect wife in a sundress. you’re also probably what guys dream about when they want to cum fast.”

your eyes go wide at the last part and stiles wants to bite his tongue off. “I-I just meant, like, the lacrosse guys, they’ve talked about you before… both ways. so you have nothing to-“

“stiles.” you say again, but this time you’re smiling just a bit and stiles thinks he might have just won the lottery ten times and became king of the world.

“mhm?”

“do you think I’m pretty?” and you’re still smiling so you both know what the answer must be.

“you just want me to say it.” he whisperes reluctantly, a pout forming on his lips.

“after the night I’ve had? that would be great.”

“and why would you go make out with another guy and then come out here asking me to confess to you?”

you frown. “maybe you’re the stupid one. I was trying to make you jealous. jake just… didn’t know that.”

stiles looks mildly impressed at that information. “mission accomplished. you know you scare me a little?”

“I know. now is there anything you want to tell me, stilinski?” you scoot closer, smile growing on your face. he laughs, embarrassed, and meets your eyes.

“I think you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen, and I want nothing more than to kiss you right now and take you to the nearest Denny’s because I’m pretty sure everything else is closed.”

he’s leaning in, now, waiting for you to close the gap.

“I think I’d like that.” you whisper, leaning in. your noses bump and you both laugh breathlessly before he cups your cheek and meets your eyes, leaning in to press the sweetest kiss to your lips.

so maybe I got a little into this. lay off me, alright?? I’m in the trenches.

…i made a part 2! it's just a lil 'what next', but i really enjoyed writing stiles like this. lmk if you'd like to see more from this vibe of him!

[igotlovestruck]

not me! [ lando norris ]

[ 𝗣𝗔𝗜𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗥𝗔𝗖𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗦 ] — dad!lando norris x mom!reader . ⊹ ✶ ㄔ 🫂 °.   *

[ 𝗪𝗢𝗥𝗗 𝗖𝗢𝗨𝗡𝗧 ] — 782 words . ⊹ ✶ ㄔ �� °.   *

[ 𝗗𝗘𝗧𝗔𝗜𝗟𝗦 & 𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦 ] — fluff, comedy . ⊹ ✶ ㄔ ℹ️ °.   *

࣪˖ 💭 .. 𝗘𝗬𝗔’𝗦 𝗡𝗢𝗧𝗘𝗦 ⌕ another one from baby reveal 📸 and first written fic for 2024! 😆

this work is purely fictional. names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. © httpsuniverse, 2024. do not steal, repost in other platforms, translate and/or claim this work as your own.

“alright, milk’s in the fridge. burp him after giving him that, make sure to do it gently or he’ll vomit on you. i made food for you as well, so just reheat that in the microwave.” you instructed your boyfriend of 4 years as you fix your bag last minute. “i know you don’t need it, but this is the number of any emergency services. you have mum, max and dad’s number, right? call them if you can’t reach me.”

“yes, babe.”

“okay, good. now let’s talk diapers–”

lando stands up from his seat and walks behind you, planting a kiss on your shoulder before hugging you from behind. “i got this, baby. don’t worry.” he says, “me and luke will have fun today, nothing to worry about. i’m his dad and i know for sure i can handle taking care of our baby.”

you sighed, finally zipping your bag and titled your head so you could look at lando. “i know you can, but it’s just… it’ll be the first time i’m spending almost the whole day without luke. it feels weird.”

“only without luke?”

“lando, i have spent many days without you by my side. most of them because you travel around the world while i finished university back then, not to mention we were in a long distance last 2020.” you reminded him, it was crazy to think that 2020 was four years ago and back then, your relationship with lando was just starting. it was a challenge for the both of you, but having known each other since kids (all thanks to your brother), you managed to get through it. but today, lily offered to take you out on a little date while oscar was with his family. “okay, the baby wipes are in the room, there are also unopened ones in the luggage–”

“babe, i’ve got this. don’t worry about me and luke, just focus on your day with the lily.” lando reassured, picking up luke from his crib and started bouncing him. “right, lukey? mummy should enjoy her day with aunt lily, tell her that we’ll be fine. we’ll be fine, mummy! daddy will do a great job!”

you let out a laugh when lando tried to voice luke, you grab your stuff before walking towards your boys. you plant a kiss on luke’s forehead and on lando’s lips, “okay, i’ll go now. lily’s waiting for me at the lobby, you sure you can do this?”

“duh, easy peasy.” lando smiled confidently, “now go, have fun with lily. don’t forget to send me pictures of your adventure in melbourne!”

within seconds, you were out of the door and it was only lando and luke left behind. luke looked at his dad, sucking on his pacifier as if waiting for lando to say something. “okay, little man… mummy’s gonna kill me if i don’t give you your milk on time so let’s just put you on your little jolly jumper here while daddy prepares your milk.”

luke stares at his dad while he puts him on his jolly jumper. when he was settled in he started bouncing and making little happy noises while lando walked to the fridge. lando smiles at his son, luke was almost 7 months old and his dad still couldn’t believe it. a little baby that’s half his, half yours, made with love and born in a loving household.

lando settled luke on his back, making sure that he was protected enough not to roll and fall from the bed. he fed luke, smiling as his baby kicks his little feet and his little hand hold the baby bottle. luke had almost half of the bottle when he lets go of it, meaning that he was done with it. lando held him up and burped him, smiling when he heard the little man’s noise. lando held luke for a while, showing him the view of their hotel and pointing out things that luke would find amazing.

“okay little man, it’s time for tummy time!” lando cheered, gently putting luke on his stomach while letting him play with the teething toy you brought. lando was grabbing the tv remote om the other side of the room, when he came back, he saw luke’s tiny middle finger standing and the others folded. “lukey! oh i gotta take a photo of this.”

lando was laughing as he took the photo, immediately uploading it on instagram for a good laugh. a few minutes later, he sees your name appearing on his phone screen. “hey baby! how’s melbourne with lily?”

“LANDO, IT’S ONLY BEEN AN HOUR SINCE I LEFT AND YOU ALREADY TAUGHT HIM BAD STUFF!”

“NOT ME!”

ynfewtrell and landonorris

liked by oscarpiastri, maxfewtrell, carlossainz55 and others

ynfewtrell well, guess i know where luke learned it from 🙃

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landonorris not me! i didn’t teach him that

ynfewtrell not me my ass

maxfewtrell 😆

landonorris we really are banning you for life max

maxfewtrell you can’t ban me for life yk

oscarpiastri which one is lando

ynfewtrell tbh, i don’t know which one... 🤔

user both are little lando norrises

user not y/n using the 🙃 emoji 😭 yk she’s pissed

user someone’s sleeping on the couch tonight landonorris

landonorris as if i’m sleeping on the couch, i just got a podium in ‘straya 😎

ynfewtrell yeah? you’re not sleeping on the couch tonight

ynfewtrell because i’m locking you out of the hotel room

landonorris not funny 😔

[roosterforme]

The Curveball Part 8 | Bob Floyd x OC

Summary: After weeks of asking Molly to confide in him, Bob does something impulsive. And when Molly finally opens up about what's on her mind, Bob doesn't respond exactly how she expected him to.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, swears, pregnancy, mention of abortion, 18+

Length: 5000 words

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story accompanies Batting Practice!)

Check my masterlist for more! The Curveball masterlist

Thank you to @mak-32 and @teacupsandtopgun for the beautiful banners!

Bob took a little detour on his way home from work on Monday. He was so in love with Molly, and she just didn't seem happy. She hadn't even texted him all day. He was afraid to initiate a message to her in case she was getting caught up on sleep, so she was either so exhausted that there was clearly a problem, or she was mad at him.

He wasn't happy that one of those things was probably true. But he stopped and picked up five dozen bouquets of gas station flowers and a bag of gummy bears. He watched her eat them on top of an ice cream sundae once, and it made him cringe. But he knew she'd like them.

When he finally got home, he paused just outside their front door. Bob knew she was home; he'd seen her car in the parking lot. He needed to calm himself down before he went inside, because at the moment, he felt ready to beg her not to leave him. And he couldn't do that yet.

As he unlocked the door and eased it open, he called out, "Mo?"

A few seconds later, her soft voice replied, "In the living room." He found her on the couch, all wrapped up in one of his oversized sweatshirts even though it was summertime. The sadness in her eyes momentarily faded away as she looked at all of the flowers in his hands. Molly's lips parted, and she gasped softly, making Bob's heart pound. 

"Hey, Honey," he whispered, and then she was swiping tears from her eyes as she stood and threw herself at him. The five bouquets and the gummy bears ended up on the floor at their feet, but it didn't matter. She was in his arms. She was kissing him. He was in love.

"Bobby," she whispered, swallowing hard as she cried in his arms.

"Tell me what's wrong, Mo," he pleaded. "Just tell me."

She took a shaky breath and said, "Nothing's wrong right now. I just need you to hold me."

"I'll hold you. I love you." He never fully released her from his arms as he peeled his uniform shirt off and let it fall next to the flowers. Then he kicked off his shoes and led her to the couch, grabbing the gummy bears on the way. As he stretched out and pulled her down gently on top of him, she let her cheek rest against his chest. It was very obvious she'd been crying, but instead of asking about that, he asked if she wanted to watch a murder documentary with him. 

"Yes, please," she whispered, and he pulled the blanket down over them as he turned the TV on. He fed her gummy bears one at a time and stroked the soft skin of her neck, his full attention on her instead of the show. Soon she was sound asleep, and Bob moved incrementally until he was able to stand with her in his arms, and he carried her to bed. 

A little while later, after he put all the flowers in water and got himself something to eat, he made his way to bed as well. When slid underneath the covers behind Molly, she turned to snuggle against him and whispered, "I love you."

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

Molly was surprised she'd been able to hold it together at home, but work was a different story. The antiseptic smells of the emergency room kept setting off her stomach, and she was running out of ideas for places to vomit discreetly. 

The one positive thing she had going for her was that the asshole doctor that she hated was being promoted. She would soon be seeing far less of him. But there was still the glaring fact that she was pregnant. And she couldn't decide what to do about it. 

She should have told Bob by now. She knew that. But she just couldn't bring herself to destroy her relationship with the most perfect man on the planet. He loved her. He loved everything about her. Including the fact that he thought she was on birth control that worked. She had in fact assured him that she was on birth control and that he had nothing to worry about. 

The mere idea of her as a mom was laughable. She'd seen her sister do it, and while Everett was the sweetest child in the universe, she knew she probably wasn't cut out for parenting. It looked way too hard. Especially for a single mom. She didn't know if she'd have any sort of maternal instinct. Watching Ev was different, because she wasn't really the one making decisions on his behalf. 

It was probably better just to go through with an abortion and never mention this to anyone. But every time she thought about it, the guilt crept in. Did Bob have the right to know? She couldn't decide. It was her body, not his. But what if he actually wanted to have a child with her? What if he would stay and help her? Actually want to be involved?

All she seemed to be able to do every night now was curl up on Bob's chest and try not to cry too much as she fell asleep. Last night they had sex, and she turned the lights off just because she just knew she was going to cry. But he'd been gentle with her, made love to her. As if he knew something was still wrong even though he couldn't figure out exactly what. 

Molly threw up in a plastic bag three times on her way home from work as she double checked her math. She had to be between six and seven weeks along. When she called her gynecologist, they gave her an appointment for two weeks from today. And she had stopped taking her birth control pills. But she was very tempted to just visit a clinic and call it a day. 

Tomorrow she was supposed to meet her sister to help her pick out a wedding dress. She could get through the weekend. She could go to the clinic on Monday. That would give her a few days to work up the nerve. 

When she walked inside, Bob was already home and wearing jeans and a nice shirt. Molly's eyes went wide as she looked at him, but he was already shaking his head. 

"We don't have to go to the Hard Deck, Honey. We can stay in."

"I forgot," she whispered. Truly, she'd been unable to think about anything except the fact that she was pregnant. She looked up at Bob as he approached her. She was pregnant with his child. Somehow this information washed through her as if for the first time. She and Bob did this together. "I'm really tired."

"Let's stay in then," he whispered, kissing her forehead as she melted against him. His big hands and his sweet voice were all over her as he pulled her toward the living room. "You want one of the murder shows? Or a shower? Or just bed?"

Molly knew he'd do whatever she wanted, and she nearly told him right then what exactly was wrong with her. But she just whispered, "Bed."

He took her by the hand, and she let him take care of everything.

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

Bob went out to breakfast with Bradley and Ev the next morning while Molly met her sister to look at wedding dresses. He was trying to stay in the moment, trying to enjoy spending time with them. He'd indulged in the idea that Everett might be his nephew someday. He'd let his mind wander to the very amusing idea that Bradley and he could be brothers-in-law. But at the moment, it hurt a bit to think about it. He told Bradley that Molly still seemed upset. 

"What makes you say that?" Bradley asked cautiously, glancing at Everett playing a game on his phone.

"She's been acting strange for the past few weeks. I can't get her to talk to me." Bob felt helpless as he said, "I just want to make her happy, but I don't think I actually know how. She's gotta be planning to move out."

Bradley shook his head. "No. It has to be something else? Work?"

Bob just shrugged. "I wish I knew." He reached for his wallet to pay, but Bradley beat him to it. 

"It's my turn," he insisted. "I think you should head home and talk to Molly now. I bet they're done shopping and getting margaritas or whatever they're doing."

"Mimosas," Bob whispered. "Molly likes mimosas."

"Right," Bradley agreed. "Let's just skip the batting cages, and you can get home and talk to her since I'm sure they must be done with mimosas."

Bob just nodded and barely managed to say goodbye as he walked back to his truck. He paused in front of a vintage clothing shop window, looking inside without really seeing anything at first. Then a jewelry case caught his eye, so he ducked inside. 

"What can I help you find?" asked the young woman who worked there. 

"That's pretty," he said as casually as he could, pointing out a gold ring with a cluster of diamonds arranged to look like a flower. It reminded him so much of Molly's tattoos that his heart ached for her. 

He thought about leaving and going home to wait for her, but then the woman asked, "Oh, that one's beautiful. Fifteen diamonds. It's been appraised. Do you want to know the price?"

But Bob shook his head and just said, "I'll take it."

He sat in his truck with the pretty ring in his palm, watching the sunlight catching on the diamonds. It was too perfect to leave it inside the shop when it looked like it had been made for Molly. But he couldn't give it to her now, not when she still seemed unhappy. 

He tucked it away in the glovebox for some point in the future. Because first, he needed to get her to talk to him. No matter what it took, he'd find a way to get her to open up. He'd find a way to make her happy again. Because now he knew that he could. 

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

Molly was so tired, she felt like she'd been hit by Bob's truck. Every time she tried to walk into the dress shop where she could see her sister looking at the ugliest dresses, she had to double back to her car to throw up again. She was almost twenty minutes late as she wiped her tears with the back of her hand and walked inside. 

She knew she looked bad. The only thing she wanted to wear was one of Bob's extremely soft undershirts and some old yoga pants. But the response from her sister was even worse than she thought it would be. "There you are. "What's wrong? You look terrible."

"Nothing," she insisted. "Did you pick one out yet?" Her voice sounded lifeless to her own ears.

"No, I was waiting for you. I can't do this kind of thing without you."

Molly's heart ached a little more as she sighed. She walked around and snatched up the prettiest dresses that she could see her sister wearing when she married Bradley. "Try those on. I'll be in one of the chairs."

Molly watched her sister eye her suspiciously before turning toward the fitting rooms. She tried to be as encouraging as possible about the dresses, tried to say all the right things, but apparently she was transparent. 

"Molly, please. Talk to me," her sister begged, and then she was wiping a tear from Molly's cheek. She wasn't even aware she was crying again, but she jumped up out of the chair, and then the tears came faster. 

As Molly took off toward the back corner of the store, she started sobbing. When she couldn't go any further, she spun around. "I fucked up," she gasped. "I fucked up so bad."

"Molly," her sister gasped, reaching for her. Molly was in her arms immediately, trying not to cry on the wedding dress she was still wearing. "It's okay to talk to me about it."

But Molly was crying too hard to talk. Fat, hot tears rolled down her cheeks, and she started shaking. She could feel her sister rubbing soft, soothing circles against her back before she took Molly's face in her hands and waited. 

"I'm pregnant."

She gaped at Molly before asking, "What did Bob say when you told him? He's upset?" She looked so concerned and seemed unsure about what she should do to help Molly feel better.

"I haven't told him," Molly whispered as she was pulled into another hug.

"Molly. How long have you known?"

"About a week," she gasped, tucking her face against the softness of the only person who really cared about her since their parents died. The only person until she had Bob.  "I suspected it before that at least. I didn't think it was actually possible at first." She was hiccupping between words. "I just thought my cycle was off. But then I took a test the other day. And then I took a lot more tests."

"Molly, were you using birth control?"

"Of course!" she wailed. "I'm not stupid! I work in healthcare!"

"I know, I know," she soothed, rubbing Molly's back. "I was just checking."

"But I switched from one pill to a different one," Molly whispered. "I did everything I was supposed to fucking do! How could I have let this happen?"

"Shh," her sister whispered. She was sobbing again. "Does Bob not want to have kids with you?"

Molly pulled away from her and threw her hands up in the air. "How the hell am I supposed to even know that?!" she asked, loud and sarcastic. "I've only known him for like four and a half months! We have never, not even once, never talked about having kids together! I know he likes them. He loves Ev and Piper, but that's different."

"Molly, you have to tell him."

"No," she said vehemently. "No way. I'm so mad at myself. I don't want him to look at me differently now. I told him I was on birth control. I promised him there was nothing to worry about." Silent tears were streaming down her cheeks. "I can't tell him. But he knows something's wrong. He thinks I'm going to leave him, and honestly, maybe I should."

"Don't say that," she whispered, scowling at Molly. "Don't say that about Bob."

"Exactly!" Molly raged, because now she was getting to the root of things. "That's exactly it! You don't even worry about me anymore, because I'm with Bob! I finally got my shit together. I'm finally dating a good guy. A stable one who actually loves me! He loves me! Or he did. I can't believe I fucked this up. It was perfect!"

She knew she shouldn't have said it, but it was too late. Instead of feeling like a real adult now, she felt like a child. Molly sank to the floor at her sister's feet and cried, burying her face in Bob's undershirt. And then a sales clerk came over just as her sister tried to sit down with her. 

"Excuse me, but you can't just crawl around the floor in one of our dresses. And you shouldn't be crying near them either."

Molly glared up at her, silently daring her to say one more sentence. "Fuck off, lady. Your goddamn dress will be just fine, okay?" 

The woman bustled away as Molly turned to her sister. Her voice was calmer as she said, "I'm not going to tell him. I'm going to pretend to go away for a couple days, get an abortion, and then never mention any of this again."

"Molly. You can't. That's not fair to Bob. You need to tell him about this." And now Molly was afraid she was about to make her sister cry as well, but she couldn't help it.

"So I can end up like you?" Molly asked, making her favorite person in the world freeze in place. "No, I know, and I'm sorry, but there's not always going to be a Bradley waiting at the end of the tunnel, okay? You got lucky. Everett is the perfect kid. And somehow you upgraded from Danny to something much better. But I'll never get this lucky again. I'll never, ever find something better than Bob. And I don't even know if I can be a mom. Because I've seen you do it, and it's actually fucking impossible, okay?" She was now crying and laying on the floor, inhaling the scent of Bob's undershirt. "It's either leave Bob or get an abortion and never tell him. And I know I can't bring myself to leave him."

Molly excused herself and got to her feet, swaying a bit as she headed for the exit. Once she was outside, she threw up on the sidewalk. 

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

Bob was waiting at home, sitting on the couch and looking at all the things Molly had added to his bookshelves since she moved in. There were so many photos of her with Everett, and a handful where her sister was in the photo, too. He reached over and grabbed one of Molly from seven years ago holding newborn Everett in the hospital. That was the brightest smile he'd ever seen on her face, and he was so happy someone had captured it. 

When the front door opened, Bob jumped to his feet. As happy as Molly looked in the photo he was holding, right now she looked downright miserable. He set the frame aside and went to her, knowing this conversation needed to happen. 

Bob gently wrapped his hands around her biceps and pulled her close. "Molly," he said as firmly as he could when she was looking up at him with watery eyes. "Something is wrong. You've been miserable for weeks, Honey. You need to talk to me. I need you to talk to me!"

She started shaking, and Bob's eyes went wide, an apology already forming on his lips. But then she whispered, "I don't want to tell you."

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. She let him take his time as he gathered his thoughts into the words that would hurt him the least to say out loud. His voice was a little ragged as he met her eyes and managed to say, "If you're unhappy here with me, I won't blame you for leaving. If there's someone else, just tell me. I'll never blame you, Molly." He nodded against the thick lump in his throat, his vision a little blurry now.

But she burst into loud sobs in front of him and shook her head as she cried. "That's not it, Bobby. That's not it at all."

He held his hands out helplessly at his sides, and she slipped her arms around his waist. When she buried her face against his chest, he let his hands come to rest on her back. On his undershirt that she was wearing. "Just tell me, Mo. I'm begging you to tell me."

"I love you," she said, looking up at him as tears trickled down her pretty cheeks. "I love you too much to tie you down. I swear, Bob...I didn't do it on purpose."

He was so confused, he felt like crying, too. "Molly," he whispered, taking her face gently in his hands and wiping at her tears. "I don't know what you're talking about. What didn't you do on purpose?"

She sucked in a sharp breath and said, "I'm pregnant."

"Oh." That tiny word escaped him before he could really sort it all out. Pregnant. She was pregnant. Surely she hadn't been beating herself up for weeks over this? She was pregnant. If Molly was pregnant, then that meant he was responsible for making it happen. He got Molly pregnant. His hands fell away from her face just as he realized he'd taken too long to respond. 

"I know I promised you I was on birth control," she said, taking short ragged breaths. "I switched pills, and...something happened. And maybe we should have used condoms for a few weeks, but this really shouldn't have happened! I'm so sorry!"

When she closed her eyes again, body wracking sobs took over, and she looked like she was going to pass out.

Bob wrapped his arms around her, and she tried to push him away, but he wouldn't let her. "Shh," he whispered next to her ear. "Molly, take deep breaths, okay? Deep, slow breaths, Honey."

As she started to get control of her breathing, Bob wondered how far along she was. Would she start showing soon? How was she going to be able to work in the emergency room with a pregnant belly? Would they let her take time off? Would he need to sell this condo and get them a bigger place? 

The ring. The pretty ring was in his truck. If Molly was pregnant, maybe Bob wasn't the reason she'd been so unhappy. Maybe she was just anxious about how he'd respond. He kissed the top of her head as she wiped her eyes on him, and he told her, "I love you, Molly." He'd give her the ring today, pull a full Bradshaw on the situation. 

She whispered, "I know we've only been together for a few months. If you can't trust me after this, I completely understand. And if you don't want me anymore... I guess I can understand that, too."

Now Bob felt like he might pass out. How could he not want her? Not want them? He was holding onto her, trying to speak. But once again he was taking too much time!

"Listen, if you don't want to be involved, that's fine," she whispered, not quite meeting his eyes now. "I'm... thinking about having an abortion on Monday. There's a walk-in clinic near work. And if you want me to leave...I can move out."

He needed to speak instead of thinking things through. "I want you," he swore. "I'm never not going to want you."

"Bob," she said, face crumbling again.

"Molly, please don't leave. Don't leave me." He could feel his heart breaking. She was talking about moving out. About having an abortion. "Please." The last thing he wanted was to live without her.

"You'll still want me? Even if I terminate the pregnancy?" she asked, laying it all out for him.

"Yes. But Molly...I would love to have a baby with you."

"Really?" she asked, seemingly surprised. "Because I don't know if I'm ready for that," she added so softly as more tears dripped down her cheeks.

He kissed the tracks of her tears and whispered that he loved her until she stopped crying. "I want you. And I want a baby," he told her, tipping her face up so she was looking him in the eye. "I would love that. But I don't need it. What I do need is for you to stay with me, Mo."

She searched his face, and Bob had never felt so vulnerable before. He'd never felt so much love before. Just as he went to gently rest his hands on Molly's belly, she shoved him violently away from her. 

"Fuck," she gasped, nearly tripping over he own feet as she tried to get away from him and run down the hallway. And then he heard her vomiting into the toilet.

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

Molly let her cheek rest against the cool tile of the bathroom floor. Her eyes were closed, but she knew Bob was there as well now. She wasn't exactly sure how she was still throwing up. She'd barely been eating. Even though she was starving, nothing would stay down. And she started to wonder why she hadn't gone to the clinic already. Why was she suffering through morning sickness if she was going to terminate the pregnancy?

When she rolled onto her stomach and tried to stand, Bob's strong hands were there, guiding her steadily upward. She felt pathetic as she looked up at him. He was perfect, and she was wrung out on the bathroom floor. He was everything, and she was just his careless girlfriend who couldn't do anything right. 

"Let's go get in bed," he whispered, and she nodded as he led her out of the bathroom. He looked so sad. She wanted to ask him why he was sad. She was the one who was sad. She was the one who had to make a decision and live with it. But right now, the only thing she could do was let Bob guide her into bed. 

"I'm so fucking tired," she said, letting her head come to rest on the pillow. "I feel awful all the time."

Bob reached out and ran his knuckles along her neck, making her eyes flutter closed. "Get some rest, Mo."

She cracked her eyes open and reached for him. "I want you to stay here," she whispered, and then he was in bed with her, and she was falling asleep on his shoulder. 

When Molly jolted awake, the room was getting dark. She was laying on Bob's chest, and he had one arm around her as he held his phone in the other. "Are you okay?" he asked, those greenish blue eyes focused right on her. When she nodded, he kissed her forehead. 

"How long did I sleep?"

"Four hours," he replied softly. 

"Four hours? Why didn't you wake me up?"

"You needed sleep, Honey. You still need a good night of it, so I'm going to feed you and help you shower, and then I'll bring you right back here."

She swallowed back a sob, mouth dry and stomach growling. "I can't eat," she said with a little laugh. "I keep asking myself why I'm still suffering through all of this if I don't even want to be pregnant."

Bob was quiet for a beat. "Are you absolutely certain you don't want to.... keep it?"

As she studied his handsome features, she slowly shook her head. "The only thing I'm certain about is that I couldn't force myself to leave you."

He sighed and wrapped her up in a tight hug. "Stay. Stay forever. We can make it forever. You know that, right?"

Forever. What a concept. Impossible. But a lifetime? That was real. "Bob... how do I know you won't leave?" But as soon as she said the words, she realized how foolish she sounded, because she knew, she just knew he wouldn't. 

"Molly, I can't show you my heart. I can only describe it," he said softly as she buried her face against him. "I feel so much love for you. I've been running ragged in my mind, trying to figure out why you were so unhappy. I just want you to be happy. And it's from my heart that I can promise I'm not going anywhere. And it's from my heart that I am telling you that if you think you might want to keep our baby, then I am one hundred percent onboard. I'm ready. I don't need to think about it. I decided about thirty seconds after you said you were pregnant that I want to do everything with you, including raise a child. If you let me."

And now she was crying again. Because this was the reason she'd put off making a decision. She wanted so badly to hear him say these words. She thought she could do it if she didn't have to do it alone. She knew she wasn't as strong as her sister, but she also knew that Bob was her ideal. He was nothing like Danny. 

Molly eased herself up and guided one leg over Bob's waist. He was looking up at her with a soft, sincere gaze, but he looked so nervous, like he was waiting for her verdict. When his hands came to rest hesitantly on her thighs, she bit her lip to try to stop her tears. She was so tired of crying. All she wanted was for Bob to make her something to eat so she could go back to sleep. 

She smiled softly, because she knew what to say now. "Bob, I'm really fucking scared. But if you still want to be in a relationship with me...if you want to do this together...then I'll keep the baby."

To her surprise, Bob pulled his hands away from her thighs as he started crying. He pushed his glasses up to his forehead and pressed his fingertips to his eyes. "I just need a minute," he whispered, his voice unsteady. Molly watched him cry as he gently shook beneath her. But a moment later, he was sitting up and she was straddling his thighs as he pulled her close and kissed her. "I love you. I'm not going anywhere. We're having a baby."

She laughed as he kissed her lips softly. "I love you, too, Coach Cute Glasses." She giggled as she imagined a tiny, cute Baby who looked like Bob with a pair of wire frame glasses. And Bob was smiling now too as she said, "Just don't do anything rash like tell me we can get married, okay? I feel like that's something you'd say."

"Oh," he said softly, pulling her a little closer as his smile faded a bit. "Okay. I won't."

She kissed his neck and inhaled his scent. "If I ever decide I want to get married, I'll let you know," she told him as her stomach growled. 

"Let me feed you," he said, helping her out of bed. "Let me take care of everything right now."

Molly decided to let him.

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

Bobby about to get everything? Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls and everyone who bugged me to make Molly and Bob a thing!

PART 9

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[its-time-to-write]

Hi!! I hope you’re well !! Thank you so much for keeping the Jaimie Tartt community well fed like I will forever be in your debt you’re amazing‼️‼️ My humble request is in honor of SNTV:) My favorite songs are Enchanted and Sparks Fly so maybe a complicated angsty start up to a fluffy love confession (like they just haven’t gotten the timing right until now or they were friends and then something happens to her). IDK anyway sorry for the word vomit and thank you bunches for all your hard work!!

I loved this request!! Also sorry, all my fics seem to be ending the same way this days😬 But we keep getting to the ending in new and exciting ways so hopefully no one cares! Enjoy!

wonderstruck

You knew the moment you met Keeley Jones that your friendship was going to be a wild ride. You were still in uni, and had picked up a one-off job as one extra on a commercial shoot. The pay wasn’t bad (hey, it was extra money) and you were willing to sacrifice a Saturday for it. Keeley was one of the frontrunners for the commercial, all big hair and wild makeup. You had bumped into her by chance at the food table, started talking, and the rest was history. One random job turned into a solid four years of friendship. It was a funny dynamic between you and Keeley, because she was both older sister and antagonizer. She liked to pull you out of your comfort zone, taking you to clubs, parties, events, whatever as her plus one. Well, until she started dating a prick footballer named Jamie Tartt.

You didn’t meet him while they were together. You’d already known Keeley for two and a half years at that point, and understood she had shit taste in men. You weren’t afraid to tell her that to her face and she’d just laugh and say, “I know babes, but it’s right fun, innit?”

You’d laugh and shake your head, then go back to carefully painting her nails in the brightest, sparkliest colors imaginable.

Keeley was really, really good for you.

She called you the night she broke up with Jamie, and you came over to her house with a giant bottle of champagne only to find her and another woman, a Rebecca Welton, already proper tipsy and giggling on the floor. They were still dolled up from that night’s benefit while you were in pajamas, but you didn’t let that stop you. You downed half a bottle while Keeley and Rebecca cheered. You were glad Keeley had dumped that awful, cheating, self-absorbed prick. She deserved so much better.

You were glad when she started dating Roy Kent. He was a lot more down-to-earth than she was, and they were a good balance for each other. You wondered if Keeley gravitated toward those of a more serious nature in the same way you were drawn to those who were more spontaneous.

Post-uni, you had started your own business. It was kind of a random venture, something you had begun for a friend, but then it took off. You made the most outrageous, eccentric day-to-day dresses, taking a simple pattern then transforming it with wild patterns, tulle, and the occasional sparkle. Keeley, angel that she was, modeled some of them and put them on her instagram. And just like that, you were selling out. 

It was absolutely insane, but you were able to spend the week making two dresses and then turn over a nice profit. You felt like you were overcharging but Keeley said, “Babe, if you’re selling out, you might be undercharging.”

All that to say, life with Keeley Jones as your friend was absolutely magical. You’d do anything for her. Including going to a fucking benefit as her plus one.

—

“Why can’t you just take Roy?”

“Roy’s already got his own invite. He’s a coach, so he has to be there even though he’s going to fucking hate it.” Keeley laughs. She thinks Roy’s grumpiness is endearing.

“Alright, why’d you get a plus one then? It doesn’t make sense, Keels,” you counter.

Keeley refuses to meet your eyes. “It’s entirely possible that Rebecca gave me one so that you’d come.”

“Keeleyyy,” you groan.

She shoves your shoulder playfully. “She knew if she sent you a direct invite you wouldn’t go, and she said she’d let us meet up at her house to get ready together! C’mon babes, it’s going to be so much fun and we’ll look sooo fucking fit walking the red carpet together, yeah?”

She gives you her widest puppy-dog eyes, lower lip pushing out. You sigh.

“Fucking fine. Fine. But you’re coming with me to pick out a dress. And you’re buying my coffee.”

Keeley cheers and tackles you in a hug. “You won’t regret it, I swear. Worst case you can just bitch about it with Roy the next day.” You laugh. You and Roy bitch about a lot of things together.

—

The red carpet is absolutely terrifying. It’s louder than you would have thought and the flashes from the camera are giving you a headache. 

“How the hell do you do this?” you ask Keeley through a smile. 

She laughs for the cameras. “Loads of practice, babe,” she replies in a perfect pose. “Now look at me and laugh at something I said.”

You’re almost done and the paps are asking for a photo of Keeley and Roy, so you wait off to the side near the entrance for them. You crane your neck to try to find Rebecca, to no avail. You do however catch the eye of someone with a very nice fashion sense and very, very blue eyes. He gives you a once-over and grins. You blush and turn back to Keeley and Roy who have finished and are making their way over to you. Keeley grabs your hand and says, “Hi Jamie!” while Roy rolls his eyes. Jamie says, “Hey Keeley,” and nods to Roy. “Grandad.”

“Fuck you,” Roy replies, and you’re surprised at the borderline affectionate tone he’s using. Especially considering Jamie is Keeley’s ex. He’s not really what you would have expected, but you don’t have time to dwell on that because Keeley’s dragging you inside the benefit venue.

—

Jamie is sitting at the same table as you. 

Correction: he’s sitting right fucking next to you and it’s all you can do to avoid eye contact with him. You had introduced yourself to him with a barely suppressed grimace and steeled yourself for a long, misogyny-filled night. 

You were so tense that Keeley put her hand on your knee and said, “I’ve got to go reapply my lipliner, d’you want to come with?”

You got up and followed her, feeling far too exposed in your backless, purple-sequined dress. 

“Alright babe, what gives?” she asks once you’ve made it to the bathroom. “You’re wound up so tight I could stick coal up your ass and get a diamond.”

That makes you crack a smile and you shrug. “I’m just tired, that’s all.”

Keeley shakes her head. “Don’t you fucking lie to me, I’ve had four years of practice knowing exactly when you’re telling me a fib.”

“Who’s fibbing?” Rebecca says, walking in the door. “I saw Keeley drag you in here, and I didn’t want to miss out on some girl talk.”

“Oh thank god you’re here,” you say, relieved. “I’ve been looking for you for the past hour and couldn’t find you.”

Rebecca self-consciously smooths her hair. “I’ve been- busy,” she says. “But this isn’t about me. What are you fibbing about?”

You look between Rebecca and Keeley then deflate. “I have to sit next to Jamie Tartt.”

Keeley and Rebecca share a look. “I don’t see what that’s such a bad thing,” Rebecca says.

You look at her in disbelief. “Jamie Tartt? The biggest prick in all of London, and quite possibly all of England? Cheated on Keeley multiple times and all-around arsehole?”

Keeley grimaces. “Yeah, not one of his finer points in life.”

“See?” you say. “He’s the fucking worst!” Rebecca and Keeley share another look.

“Stop fucking doing that,” you say. “What?”

“Darling,” Rebecca says gently, “he’s changed.”

You’re not buying it, a sentiment that is evident in your expression.

“It’s true, babes,” Keeley affirms. “And look, I’d probably be the fucking last person to say it. But he has! He’s loads better than he used to be, an absolute sweetheart. Even Roy loves him.”

You snort.

“Okay, maybe love is a strong word,” Keeley amends. “But he likes him! Roy said Jamie’s the best player on the team, and possibly one of the best in the country!”

You’re still not buying it. 

“Listen,” Rebecca says. “Give him one hour free of bias. Forget who he was and give him a chance. You might be surprised.”

You look to Keeley, unsure. It is her ex, after all.

To your surprise, she’s smiling and nodding. “Go for it,” she says. “You never know what could happen.” She wiggles her eyebrows at you and you laugh. Only Keeley Jones could try to pawn her ex off on her best friend with the confident assurance that he’s a better man now. You know she’s not lying, or at least she believes Jamie’s changed. You’re not sure what to believe, but you’ll take Rebecca’s advice and give Jamie one hour to change your mind.

—

You’re not in your seat two seconds before Jamie starts talking to you.

“Why d’you look so nervous love? I don’t bite.” He grins. “Much.”

You catch yourself before you grimace and instead say, “This whole thing isn’t really my scene. It’s a lot of people I don’t know, and I’m only here ‘cause Keels asked me to be her plus one.”

Jamie still has that obnoxious grin on his face. “What does Roy think about you stealing his girlfriend? Can’t imagine he’d take it lying down.”

You glance over at Keeley and Roy. His arm is around the back of her chair and she’s leaning into him ever so slightly. 

You say, “I’ve been here longer than he has, so if anyone’s stolen her, it’s him,” and you watch the pieces click into place in Jamie’s head.

“Shit,” he says. “You’re the best friend. Shoulda known when you told me your name.”

You shrug.

“Makes sense,” he continues. “I wondered why you weren’t fuckin’ beside yourself to be sitting by the fittest bloke in the room.”

You roll your eyes, hint of a smile tugging at your lips.

He pulls his chair a little closer and looks at you again with those perfect blue eyes. “Seriously, I am sorry. I was a prick. It took Keeley breaking up with me for me to start gettin’ my head out of me arse.” Jamie’s words back up what Keeley and Rebecca told you. You’re not entirely ready to brush his past under the rug, but tell him that it seems like he did a right proper job of it, which makes him laugh.

“Do you really think you’re the fittest guy in here?” you ask.

Jamie gestures to the room. “Look around, babe. I ain’t lying.”

You laugh, and the tension dispels. You’ve 55 minutes to go, and then you can go back to hating him. For now, you’ll let him keep cracking jokes.

—

The hour is up, but you’re still talking to Jamie. You don’t stop to consider why he’s still talking to you (maybe because he can’t stand the idea of anyone hating him) but he is. It’s actually enjoyable, so when he asks you to accompany him to the dance floor, you look to Keeley for approval instead of outright rejecting him.

Keeley says, “Go on babe, I’m gonna try to convince this one to get out there for at least one dance,” and Roy says, “Fuck no.”

You let Jamie take your hand as he promises, “No funny business, I swear,” and you just laugh.

You laugh through three songs because Jamie has a way of making you giggle. He swings you around and executes all kinds of moves that you’re sure you could never replicate, but you assume that being a Premier League footballer means he’s got to be coordinated. Makes sense that he can dance.

The fourth song is a slow one, so you move to leave the dance floor but Jamie catches your hand.

“Stay,” he says. “I’m having a really great time with you.”

You feel Keeley kick the bottom of your shoe from where she’s swaying with her arms around Roy’s neck. 

It makes you stumble a little, just enough for Jamie to have to catch you. He grins. “I’ll take that as a yes then.”

He puts your hands around his neck and his on your waist. It’s a soft touch, but you can feel sparks shooting up your hipbones.

You’re absolutely fucked.

Jamie doesn’t say a single thing, just sways along with the soft music and gazes into your eyes. You can’t look away no matter how hard you try. 

The song ends and you let go of Jamie. He slides a hand up you waist and down your arm, lifts your hand to his lips, and kisses your inner wrist. 

Before you can form a coherent thought, he’s gone.

Rebecca and Keeley are on you in a moment.

“You’re both coming to mine,” Rebecca says. “You have time to go home and get pajamas, but I’m getting out of here as soon as I can. I just made sure my pantry was restocked.”

—

It’s 2am. Rebecca and Keeley have successfully gotten you to admit that you like Jamie. 

Against all odds, you like him.

Fuck.

“You’re sure it’s not weird?” you ask Keeley as you pace around Rebecca’s bedroom.

“For the millionth time, babe,” she says, “I really don’t. I think you two would be fucking adorable together.”

Rebecca nods in agreement. “I’m on Keeley’s side on this one. Jamie used to be a right little shit, but he’s really turned it around. And could you please stop wearing a hole in my rug? It’s giving me anxiety.”

You abruptly stop and plop down on the bed. “What if he doesn’t like me? What if he was only trying to make me not hate him because I’m Keeley’s best friend?”

Rebecca makes an offended noise so you amend: “Sorry, one of Keeley’s best friends?”

“Listen,” Keeley says making her way to your spot on the end of the bed. She holds your arms. “I know Jamie. He was fucking interested. And he hasn’t been that way in a while. You should just fucking go for it.”

“I don’t know,” you say slowly. Rebecca and Keeley groan and flop back onto the bed.

“You’re absolutely hopeless,” Rebecca says, but it’s laced with affection. You grin.

“That’s why you love me.”

—

You don’t sleep. Keeley is sandwiched between you and Rebecca on Rebecca’s absolutely massive bed, and all you can think about is Jamie’s blue eyes and the sparks of electricity you felt wherever he touched you. 

You can still feel the kiss on your wrist.

—

It rains for three days and you refuse to go to Nelson Road. Keeley’s out sick anyway, and Rebecca is busy with work. You are too, working on a commission in electric blue. It’s very cozy inside your flat, soft music playing as the rain plinks on your roof. You’re wearing your good sweats, the ones that match and don’t have stains. Your hair is freshly clean and pulled back in a clip and there’s a pot of tea on the stove. 

Your heartbeat has not been normal since dancing with Jamie. It’s beating in an irregular pattern, horrendously out of sync with the calming sound of rain. You can’t get it to calm down so you decide to indulge and replay your entire interaction with Jamie, as a treat. 

You’re just thinking about his hands on your waist and letting your mind wander to where else you think they should go, when there’s a knock on the door. You frown.

That’s odd. Who on earth could be at your door at 7pm on a Monday in pouring rain? You pad across the living room to the door and open it to find a very wet Jamie.

“Hi,” he says, and then he’s pulling you onto the porch and kissing you in the pouring rain.

You’re soaked through to the bone, but you don’t care. All you can feel is Jamie’s hair as you run your fingers through and his lips on yours as they devour you. It’s straight out of a movie.

You shiver, and Jamie breaks away.

“Got your address from Keeley,” he says. “She’s the one who told me to come here. Can we go inside?”

You nod mutely and let him in. “Aren’t you cold?” you ask.

He just laughs. “Nah babe, I run hot. You look right fucking freezing, though. Good thing I’m here, I’ll help you warm right up.”

You’re really starting to shiver. “You should get out of those clothes,” you say through chattering teeth. 

“Could say the same about you,” Jamie replies. “Where’s your bedroom at?” 

You all but drag him up the stairs to your room. 

You think you’re going to kill Keeley for telling Jamie you liked him, but then you’re flat on your back, bare skin pressing into the duvet as Jamie Tartt presses hot kisses up your neck, and you forget all about her.

[meatonfork]

How do you think 141 would take care of grim if they got sick? And would grim take care of the team when they got sick? Price probably has a really loud dad sneeze :o

I really love your writing but make sure you don't burn out from working so hard!! <3

Sick Days

————————————————————————————————————————

pairings: platonic 141 x grim

warnings: none i believe

summary: hc's of grim taking care of the boys and vice versa when sick

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

Ghost

when grim is sick

he isn't outward with his affection, he never really is

will sneak into grim's room to place food on their desk or nightstand while they're sleeping

if the sickness requires medicine, bet your ass he's sneaking that shit in there too

will lightly pet their hair out of their face

pulls the blankets up when they almost fall off the bed

if grim is super sick, they will require cuddles and ghost will hesitantly oblige

holds their hair back as they throw up

grim notices everything he does

just because they're sick doesn't mean they're incompetent or unaware

when ghost is sick

is aware he isn't the most affectionate

they try to reciprocate the silent gestures back because they know he'll appreciate it more than outward caring

will let him use their favorite blanket

is very surprised when he let's grim turn on a movie and cuddle with him

if he throws up, grim will wait patiently in his room until he's done so they can shove water down his throat

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

Soap

when grim is sick

he will make fun of them

"well, why'd you get sick in the first place, dummy?"

"fuck off soap."

even if grim doesn't want them (which is rare), he will force cuddles

gets everything they ask for, but makes it seem like such a draining task

cringes when grim throws up.

will not look them in the eye while helping them

throws a rag at them so they can clean them-self

when soap is sick

a whiny baby

thinks it's the end of the fucking world

grim gets so fed up, but is patient

when soap is sick, he gets really sweaty, so grim is very reluctant in sick soap cuddles

ends up covered in his snot tissues and almost throws up

pets his hair because he falls asleep faster

makes sure there is a bowl by his bed at all times in case he throws up again

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

Gaz

when grim is sick

grim has him wrapped around their little finger

does everything they ask- no hesitation

"yes, grim. yes." salutes as he rushes off to get water

makes sure their bed is the comfiest thing they will ever lay on

fluffs the pillows

washes the blankets

crowds them with stuffed animals

puts on their favorite movie and sleeps with them

when grim throws up, gaz is right next to them

holding their hair, rubbing circles in their back, and whispering reassuring words in their ears

if grim is too tired to get up from the floor, he will carry them back to bed

when gaz is sick

gaz has grim wrapped around his finger

gives him the best treatment because he does the same to them

"yes, gaz. yes." salutes as they rush off to get new socks

gives him the best cuddles he's ever received

he is putty in their hands

when gaz throws up, grim almost cries because they feel so bad for him

helps him back to bed and lets him just put his dead weight on them

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

Price

when grim is sick

full dad mode

takes temperature every 30 minutes

forces medicine down

will help grim into a cold shower when their temperature is way too high

chicken noodle and crackers is all he will feed them

"it's the best remedy, kid. let me do my job."

will cuddle, but not for long

when grim throws up, he is totally unfazed and has a towel ready to clean off their face for them

helps grim change clothes

when price is sick

he is also a baby who whines

grim also only gives him chicken noodle and crackers

"it's the best remedy, cap."

he does not appreciate being mocked like this

when price throws up, they clean up his beard and mustache but almost vomits them-self

but, they care too much to not do it

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

a/n : thank you for reading!! <3

[peanutbutterwrites]

desperation

warnings: drug use, suicidal thoughts, nsfw, vomit, depression, trauma, angst. summary: your whole life you had never once felt special, that feeling can eat you up inside, it can make you do things you'd never do to keep it. word count: 6.1 k -disclaimer- this is in no way representing people in real life, I respect enhypen as artists and simply wanted to use them in a story. all circumstances are fake.

part two

a/n - this has been rotting for a while because it's a little out of my comfort zone. I don't usually write anything considered nsfw so I hope it came out alright. let me know.

YOU WERE AVERAGE. something you so desperately wanted to escape your whole life, but that was the truth. you had good grades, but they were never stellar. you were praised for your obedience, but never awarded. always an angel, never a god. people never take notice, they are all too wrapped up in their own lives to ever notice someone so horribly, average. but you noticed. in fact, it never quite left your mind, always hovering in the back corner, taunting you. jack of all trades, master of none, that’s why college was going to be different.

your entire life you were told, “just get past high school, it's all uphill from there.” but you’d all but completed your first year of college and still everything felt the same. you wanted it over with, all of it. maybe if you made a big deal out of it, you’d be known for something. but you were a coward, scared of scarring your own flesh should things go south. and then you’d be relevant, for a minute. until people eventually forgot again and got wrapped back up in their own lives. 

your roomates were where you were hoping to make friends, but that never happened. mina was a bitch, for lack of a more descriptive word, and held no interest towards you unless she’d run out of girls to party with. and when that happened, she dragged you to said party and fed you drink after drink until you puked your guts out from alcohol poisoning. and the worst part? you just let her, so she kept doing it. giselle was almost worse then you. almost cause at least she excelled at school work. giselle would spend hours upon hours in your cramped dorm room studying for the next exam, spilling snacks and papers everywhere, refusing to clean up. you never knew peace the whole year between never being alone in your own, clean, room and vomiting your guts out into the early hours. 

“hey,” came mina’s no longer sickly sweet voice. instead it had turned into a cold demand as the school year went on, “sana and jihyo ditched, you’re coming with me tonight.” she waited a few beats for your answer before raising an eyebrow, you shifted uncomfortably. you hoped today would be the day you’d grow up and refuse her, but cowardice is one of those emotions that latch onto you like a leech, and you were a coward at your core.

“uh yeah, I guess. but I don’t really feel like drinking tonight, mina.” you managed to choke out. mina scoffed in response,

“oh really? come on, you say that all the time and then you drink so much you start hacking up your insides, forget it.” she rolled her eyes and left your room, most likely to go change. you whimpered and dropped your phone on your bed on the verge of frustrated tears, not bothering to mention the reason for that drinking was mina herself.

“just tell her no.” came a slightly warmer voice to your right. 

“I can’t, giselle.’

“can’t or won’t. its pathetic.” her harsh words offset her softer tone and only managed to make you feel worse. peeling yourself off the bed, you stepped over piles of clothing to get to your designated closet. rifling through clothes, you settled on an all black ensemble and snatched your makeup bag to take to the dorm bathrooms. god forbid you show up to a college party with mina of all people, and not wear makeup. mina always talked about her reputation, she simply couldn’t be seen with you if you didn’t at least look decent. mina was superficial, narcissistic. if you looked good, she was satisfied, but don’t ever look too good. you simply didn’t feel like being overly punished tonight, so a light makeup look it was. grabbing a pair of alcohol stained heels, you made your way to mina’s room to let her know you were ready. 

“huh, not too bad.” she nodded at your outfit and finished combing on her mascara in front of her floor length mirror. “sunghoon is picking me up, so find a ride okay? I’ll text you the address.” your shoulders sagged as you took in the information, mina always did this.

“mina, I really don’t feel like going if I don’t have a ride. if you have sunghoon, why do you need me there?” she froze patting down her skin tight dress and turned to face you.

“why do I need you? let me get this straight, I don’t. I don’t need you, but I’m trying here.” her voice changed into a sickly sweet one and she strode over to you to pat your shoulder. “I’m trying to be friends, I just feel like you’re being really ungrateful.” you stiffened as she pouted her perfect, glossy lips and pulled her hand back.

“no, I’m sorry mina. I’m not trying to be ungrateful, just my car’s at home.” you frowned and grabbed her hand in an apology. mina sighed and held your hand in hers.

“alright, I guess we can give you a ride then. but you have to sit in the back, and don’t ruin this for me.” she smirked slightly and brushed past you as she grabbed a few last minute essentials. you hung your head in shame, you fell for it, again. desperation didn’t look good, and worst of all is it attracted the people who loved to use it. “hurry up!” mina called as her hells clicked on the cheap vinyl flooring and you were scurrying out the door after her. 

sunghoon drove an all black expensive car, it was sleek as it pulled up and cool to the touch as you gripped the back door. but it reeked of cologne, body odor, alcohol, and weed as you yanked the door open. you gagged slightly at the combination of smells and stepped over trashed trojan packages in the back seat. 

“huh, didn’t know I had a passenger.” sunghoon frowned at you, his voice was distant and cold. 

“don’t worry ‘hoon. she’s a good friend.” mina smiled as she touched his shoulder. you caved into yourself and prepared for a silent ride, trying to ignore mina’s flirty tone as the car glided away from the dorms.

“so, what’s your name?” it took you a minute to realize sunghoon was addressing you, and by the time you were ready to answer mina did it for you. 

“she’s my other roommate, you know? the boring one, not the brainiac.” sunghoon hmm’d in acknowledgement and the attention immediately shifted back to mina. you cringed at your own lack of response and mourned the second of attention he had allowed to you. with the rest of the ride being silent on your end, it felt like an eternity before arriving at the frat house where the party would be held. you watched as sunghoon helped mina out of the car and stumbled your way out on your own. the three of you made your way into the house that had music pumping through the windows. within seconds of entrance your nose was hit with a wave of smells and none of them pleasant. you followed diligently behind mina and sunghoon to a small gathering of people surrounded by alcohol and could almost feel your liver protesting from the months of abuse. mina shoved a red solo cup of some alcoholic liquid in your hand as she plopped down on sunghoon’s lap and laughed at something he said. you just stared at the strange liquid, your mouth creating too much saliva in preparation for the amount of vomiting sure to follow. 

“you okay there?” came a voice aimed at you. your head snapped up to meet eyes with a very pretty boy. his sharp nose and wide eyes reminded you of a deer and his slightly red hair only added to the comparison. 

“uh yeah, I just don’t really drink.” you managed to get out. he stared at you with a blank look before chucking and nudging another boy next to him. 

“you hear this chick? she doesn’t drink and she’s at jay’s party, that’s crazy man.” you frowned at him, moving slightly closer so that you didn’t have to yell. 

“jay? who’s that?” apparently this question was hilarious as he and his friend burst out laughing.

“man does this girl know nothing?” you felt your heart sink as they continued to laugh and you felt mina’s cold stare burning from the back of your head. 

“sorry.” you mumbled out and stared back down at the drink. 

“its whatever, you’re just at the wrong place.” the boy said with a slight laugh left in his voice. he brushed off his jeans off and stood up, offering you his hand. you stared up at him as he waited, he contorted his face into a strange expression and leaned down to grab your hand. “man, you’re one weird girl.” he chuckled as he started dragging you behind him. 

“wait, heeseung!” a high pitched voice called and the boy paused to look back. “where are you going?” you turned to see mina doing her signature pout at him and fought the urge to roll your eyes. 

“fuck off mina, nowhere.” he called back with a middle finger raised and his buddies roared with laughter as you were met with the rare sighting of mina flushing with embarrassment. “cocksucker.” the boy, heeseung apparently, muttered under his breath. you snorted at that and he looked down at you as he dragged you forward again. “oh come on, even her friends know.”

“i know.” you replied. as you moved through the party, you saw a boy laying down on a counter as another poured alcohol from a keg into his mouth. he had a sharp jawline and wore sunglasses despite the time of night and indoor activity. heeseung noticed you looking and pointed at the boy.

“that’s jay. the alcoholic.” he said point blank, it suddenly made much more sense why it was required to drink here. heeseung pushed a beaded curtain out of the way as he grabbed a heavy metal door and turned the handle.

“wait, where-” you were cut off as he pulled you into a garage and a wave of smoke invaded your nostrils. the air was hazy with smoke and your eyes watered as heesung continued to pull you. 

“hey heeseung, what’s up.” spoke one of the boys sitting on one of the very old and beat up leather couches within the garage. you counted a total of four men and they all had either a cig or joint lit up and in their pinched fingers. heeseung jerked his chin up and slapped his hand against the guy who had spoken in some sort of handshake. 

“this is sunghoon's friend, she’s chill.” heeseung announced and pushed you slightly towards the first couch which held one of the boys. you looked back at him, ignoring the comment about actually being friends with sunghoon, and he motioned for you to sit down. the couch sunk and groaned due to age and your added weight, but you couldn’t deny that the worn leather was comforting and warm. 

“hey, I’m sunoo.” the boy next to you spoke. he had pink dyed hair and soft features that made him seem approachable, he blew out smoke into your face as he spoke. you coughed wafting away the plume and stuck out your other hand to shake with his. two of the other boys let out a lazy chuckled at your cough and formalities.

“you sure she’s cool? looks like she’s never smoked a day in her life.” joked one of the others. 

“well she doesn’t drink, and you losers need some pussy or at least a friend.” heeseung joked. “im out.” he waved bye to you and your eyes followed him, no longer feeling safe in this warm garage. 

“oh come one, we’re not that bad.” the one that had joked spoke. “i’m jake, jungwon, and ni-ki” he motioned to himself and the other two boys. jake had the twinge of an accent to his voice and he had fluffy hair with soft features. jungwon reminded you of a small cat as his eyes were slanted and round and his soft smile revealed dimples. ni-ki. ni-ki scared you. you sucked in a small breath when his sharp eyes snapped to you and the cigarette smoke he let out made your head spin. his cropped hair hung over his eyes but showed off multiple piercings and was jet black. he looked tall, long and lanky as his legs hung out of the recliner he inhabited and his long arm hung over the edge. as jake and jungwon went back to talking, ni-ki held your eyes in his and you felt unable to look away. you heard a breathy laugh come out of sunoo,

“i think she likes you.” your eyes snapped to sunoo and you felt your face become splotchy with heat. his breathy laugh turned into a boisterous one that forced him to start coughing and put out his joint. the laugh caught jake and jungwon’s attention and both boys let out a chuckle.

“aww, i think she has a crush. huh, hyung?” jake slapped jungwon is agreeance and both faded out boys laughed. you felt shame course through your veins and mentally beat yourself up for staring for too long. the worst part was that he was attractive. you’d never been in a relationship and guys had yet to ask you out, you felt shameful that he now had to deal with your attraction. you risked looking back up, and noticed he was still staring. he held up two fingers and your eyes remained locked with his as he motioned for you to come over to the recliner. your heart dropped to your ass as you debated what to do. but apparently you took too long deciding because with a deceptively innocent laugh, sunoo shoved you off the couch causing you to fall on your hands and knees. this only spurred the boys on further, causing them to howl with laughter leaving only ni-ki stone cold silent. you watched from the floor as he put out his cigarette and leaned forward with his forearms resting on his knees. the laughing momentarily stopped as the boys waited for what he was going to do. he only spoke one word, but your heart froze.

“crawl.” the laughter began again, more hysterical then previously and tears pricked your eyes in shame. you couldn’t help the shiver that went through your body at hearing his voice. it was deep, and despite the sufficient smoke, it was rich and smooth. you felt sunoo swing his foot into the back of your thigh and you fell forward to catch yourself, causing you indirectly to crawl closer to ni-ki. 

“she’s seriously going to!” jake let out gleefully as laughter continued to ring throughout the garage. this snapped you to attention and you quickly scrambled up to stand and try to walk out of the entrapped space. you were holding back tears and the walls suddenly felt far too close. the once comforting warmth of the smoke turned too hot and your breathing increased rapidly. as you moved, ni-ki reached out and snatched your wrist harshly and tugged you toward the recliner. 

“oh come on, we’re just playing. right?” sunoo spoke with a teasing lightness to his voice and ni-ki pulled you onto his lap. you froze in fear, trying not to shift in your seat or cry as he reached over to pull another cigarette out of his pack. 

“right.” you mumbled eyes widening as sunoo gave you a ‘hell yeah!’ and slapped his hand against yours the same way heeseung and jake had previously. 

“she’s funny!” jake let out a stoned chuckle as jungwon snorted and took another hit. you looked down at your palm after you felt a weight in it and made eye contact with a black lighter. you looked over your shoulder to see ni-ki put the cigarette to his lips and motion for you to light it. shaking slightly, you took a few tries to strike the lighter into action and held the flame to the stick. you went to turn away, but yelped when you felt a large hand grip your chin and forcefully twist your head back. ni-ki took a large inhale and forced his thumb in your mouth to pry your jaw open. frozen in fear, your heart pounded loudly in your chest as his grip on your jaw became painful and the tears you had been holding back threatened to finally fall. as he leaned forward, your eyes widened only to have copious amount of smoke released into your mouth, nose, and eyes. snapping your face out of his grip you coughed violently away from him as tears finally fell down your face. through your coughing fit you heard the three others in the room hoot with laughter.

“don’t cry now, he likes that!” one of them joked which spurred the others on even more. the humiliation you felt was horrific, this would go down in your head as one of the most humiliating evenings you had ever had. you tried not to think too much about what that comment was hinting at, and instead your mind reeled with how to get out of the situation. through the haze of coughing and an attempt to regain your pride, you snatched the cig from his hands, took a deep inhale and blew it right into his face. the laughter stopped. nobody moved. and then a low rumbling laugh came from ni-ki and you felt your whole body relax. he wasn’t mad, which was good because the atmosphere and reactions of the other boys felt like if he was, you weren’t going to make it out of this garage in one piece. 

“so,” sunoo began, “what’s your major?” 

------------------------------ + -------------------------------

after that party, you didn’t mind going with mina as much anymore. though, the amount of times you wanted to attend and the amount of times mina asked was so severely disproportionate, that you didn’t get to see your new found friends for at least a week before she invited you out again. when getting ready for the party, you took extra care of your makeup and outfit thinking of the boy with the dark eyes. 

“what’s taking so long? got someone to impress?” mina joked with a glint of danger in her eyes, not unnoticed by you. 

“oh no, just am trying to keep up you know.” you smiled hesitantly back at her and watched as she softened slightly. 

“ok well, our rides here so unless you wanna walk..” she left her end hanging but you understood the implications. going down the elevator ride, you held your phone in your hands sending a quick text to sunoo to make sure he and his friends were in attendance tonight. you had been beyond grateful when sunoo offered his number to you at the end of the night and you two had actually been keeping in contact. you felt like you had finally gained a friend in this messed up experience and were giddy with the excitement of acceptance. mina was busy with taking pre-party selfies until the doors opened and you were able to make out a familiar black car. 

“you staying with sunghoon?” 

“yeah, he has a nice dick.” mina said crassly and you paused in shock momentarily. letting out an awkward cough, you tried to cover up your prudeish shock. 

“oh, yeah I get that.” she turned and gave you a look of pure pity before running up to sunghoon’s car and your face burned with embarrassment for the millionth time. mina was quick to start up a conversation with sunghoon, but his attention turned to you when you sat in the back.

“oh you’re back. how was last time, the guys nice enough?” mina was stunned into silence when she glanced back at you. 

“uh yeah, sunoo was really nice. I think they just like to joke around a lot.” sunghoon let out a soft chuckle.

“yeah that’s for sure, they mean no harm though. hope you didn’t take anything personally.” you shook your head and smiled softly at him through his mirror. mina piped up again believing the strange conversation to be over, until sunghoon cut her off. “ni-ki can be a real dick, but he’s a good friend when you get to know him. he give you are hard time?” this time mina let out an audible huff and glared back at you. shrinking from her gaze you responded. 

“oh well I mean he definitely startled me, but he was fine.” 

“hah! startled, yeah thats a good word for ni-ki.” 

“who’s ni-ki?” mina blurted out, desperately trying to stay in the conversation. a flush slowly climbed up your neck in response to mina’s direct ask and sunghoon let out a hoot.

“really ni-ki? I mean some people are freaky I guess, good for you.” sunghoon laughed as he said this, ignoring mina’s question in favor of slapping the steering wheel. 

“it’s not like that!” you tried to get out as quickly as possible, but sunghoon continued to laugh joking about how he was ‘so gonna tell jake’. the glare mina sent your way was enough to get you sinking back down in your seat and staying silent the rest of the ride with sunghoon’s occasional laughter making up the rest of the sound. 

you didn’t wait for mina and sunghoon this time, waving to them as you left the car and walked into the house. you expected the group of boys to occupy the garage again so you immediately began looking for a door leading there. in doing so, you bumped into someone familiar.

“hey, how’s it going?” heeseung asked with a smile.

“oh, hi heeseung. it’s alright, how about you?” 

“uh pretty boring so far, was gonna see if the guys had it any better.” your eyes lit up at the mention of your friends.

“oh great, I was heading there. lead the way.” he smiled as he gripped your wrist and guided you through the crowded party. this time, he headed for the stairs and you carefully placed your heels on each step. falling was not on your agenda and you were intent on going to one party this year where you didn’t embarrass yourself somehow. when he entered the room, the familiar smell of weed and cigarettes comforted you. 

“theres my girl!” you heard sunoo call out and you couldn’t help but let out a wide smile and little giggle as you waved to the boy. jake and jungwon stood up to give you and heeseung a hug greeting, clearly they were less faded then the first time you met them. ni-ki sent a piercing gaze from across the room and scoffed as he packed a bowl. while the boys were occupied with heeseung, you walked over to the side with ni-ki and sunoo.

“hi ni-ki.” you said hesitantly, showing him a soft smile. his sharp eyes snapped back up to you and you wilted under his stare.

“we’re not friends.” was all he let out and your smile completely fell. 

“oh be nice.” sunoo scoffed as he pulled you by your waist onto the bean bag he occupied. ni-ki continued to glare as he packed the bowl, noticeably at sunoo’s arm currently around your waist. you and sunoo continued what was your previous conversation over text as the three others made their way over. ni-ki lit the pipe and took a deep inhale before passing it into your hands. you held the pipe in your hands for a few seconds, just staring at it, before the boys let out copious amounts of laughter. at that moment, the door to the upstairs room sung open and you were grateful for the distraction. sunghoon and mina made their way in the room with many objections coming from the boys. 

“mina, get outta here.” heeseung sighed. mina’s only response was to roll her eye’s and flip him off. 

“oh please, I’m here for my friend.” mina said, smiling so sweetly at you that you had to fight the urge to cringe. sunoo rolled his eyes and grabbed the pipe from your hands to take a long hit.

“there, like that.” he smiled sincerely and handed it back to you. with the added pressure of mina glaring intensely at you, you felt even more nervous to even try and take a hit.

“you’re so annoying.” you heard to your right and the next thing you knew you were being manhandled and dragged in front of ni-ki. gripping your face harshly like last time, he stuffed the pipe in your mouth and you cringed from the clink of the glass against your teeth. liting the bowl, he motioned for you to inhale and you took a large hit from the pipe. ripping it out of your mouth, he yanked your face closer to himself.

“breath.” and you let out all the smoke into his mouth, coughing slightly at the burning feeling in your throat. “there.” he said harshly, shoving you away and tossing the pipe to jake on your left. he leaned back into the bean bag and you watched as his thighs manspread trying desperately not to stare. you were brought out of your intense staring by mina’s high pitched voice.

“me too, ni-ki.” she pouted her lips at her and you watched as sunghoon took a sip of his beer and stared at his phone, clearly not caring. suddenly you were worried, maybe ni-ki acted like this with everyone. you weren’t special. you sunk back into sunoo and he simply patted your shoulder trying not to laugh at your behavior. ni-ki scoffed and pulled out a cigarette, effectively ignoring mina. you watched as her face faltered and for the first time, saw doubt in her eyes. you tried to not let a feeling of pride fill you, but the idea of being special to someone caused you to lose rational thought. 

------------------------------ + -------------------------------

your mind had begun to rot. you thought about it day and night, the fact that you’ve been accepted and for once you were special. sunoo’s texts didn’t loose their consistency, in fact you two had built a wonderful friendship, far better then you and mina’s friendship. that one had deteriorated rapidly after all. but you were struggling to feel any emotion other then glee. mina’s face from that night had never left your mind since, the second guessing, the doubt that was clearly eating her up inside. you didn’t think mina had ever once been denied. you knew she had never be denied in favor of you of all people. even living in your own world in these past few days, her behavior had not gone unnoticed. 

“hey.” came giselle’s soft voice from across the room. you looked up from your phone to see her lying on her side facing you, bangs clipped up and glasses sliding slightly off her nose. 

“yes?”

“is it just me or is mina…acting strange?” you gulped down a bit of guilty saliva that had made its way into your mouth. “no, unhinged is a better word.” she wasn’t wrong. mina had been lashing out more then usual, not going to as many parties and spending a lot of time in her room. in favor of speaking, you met her question with a shrug. “did it finally happen?” you could tell what giselle was asking, and you knew she would bother you the rest of the night unless you answered. you nodded tentatively and giselle let out a small giggle. “serves her right.” you were surprised. you knew giselle and mina weren’t close, but you didn’t think giselle would delight in her downfall.

“is that bad?” giselle tilted her head in questioning. “that we’re happy about it?”

“ha, no hun. it’s not bad, serves that bitch right. I don’t know how you put up with her.” she looked back down to her phone and plopped a big, salty chip in her mouth. you rolled on your back, giselle’s response made you feel a bit better about the whole situation. maybe even if you were horribly average, you were bearable to most. and special to someone. 

“hey, giselle?”

“hm?”

“do you like me?”

“fuck no.”

------------------------------ + -------------------------------

mina had finally given in. you knew that drinking and partying were an itch to her, and she had to scratch it eventually. when she did, she would invite you. all you had to do was bide your time until you could see your friends again, and that time came almost a week after mina’s miniature depressive episode. 

“come on slut, let’s go party!” mina had popped her head in your dorm room. you had to fight a frown, this was not how mina had been acting recently. she seemed too upbeat, excited. she had barely left her room or spoke a word recently, this mina scared you.

“sure, that’s fine.” you moved to pick out some clothes.

“so, i was wondering. are you a virgin?” you froze mid hanger toss and your attention snapped to her. you could practically feel the shift of giselle’s uninterested eyes to her’s now, glaring at attention. you were never one who was gifted at lying. 

“uh, yeah. i guess.” you mumbled out and mina let out a high pitched giggle. 

“aww that’s so cute, no wonder that guy likes you.” this time you completely dropped your clothes. 

“huh?” you flushed bright red, your thoughts instantly going towards the boy with the sharp eyes. 

“yeah, jake told me.” she said, far too brightly. 

“really?” i asked. the genuine hope in your voice made you inwardly cringe at your own desperation. 

“yup, so we better get going soon!” mina sweeped out of the room and you tried to get yourself together. putting your favorite outfit on, that showed a little more skin then usual, and finishing up your makeup. as you grabbed your purse to follow behind mina, you could’ve sworn you heard a whisper come from behind you. giselle. 

pathetic.

the party was generic, filled with drugs and alcohol and young adults grinding on each other. you were eager to find the designated smoke room and texted sunoo to let him know you were there. as you began walking towards what you assumed was the east wing, this house was bigger than any you’d ever been in, mina hooked her arm in yours. 

“you meeting our friends?” an ounce at irritation flared up at her words, our? 

“yeah, sunoo told me where they were.” she just smiled and let you lead the way, which you did with reluctance. swinging open what you assumed was the right door, you were met with the signature smell of jake’s weed and cheers. 

“where you been!” jake let out as he stumbled up and pulled you into a tight hug. you giggled as he shook you back and forth with sunoo shouting protests behind him. jungwon gave you a small wave as the two other boys dragged you to their couch, laughter still bubbling up within you. you were rarely this happy. still reeling from their exciting welcome, you ignored ni-ki’s usual glare and gave him a genuine smile and wave. 

“its bong night, you ever smoke from one sweetheart?” sunoo asked, brushing your hair from your forehead. not wanting to be ostracized, you nodded your head in an unconvincing agreeance. the other boys oooh’d in ‘oh really?’s with one being far less forgiving of the unconvincing fib. 

“little liar, of course she hasn’t” ni-ki’s harsh voice cut through the air. “gonna have to teach her just like last time.” like cold water you were instantly knocked out of your giddy mood and visibly deflated. this only seemed to irritate him more. “oh don’t do that shit, it’s annoying.” you were never one to control your emotions. it was one of the reasons people found it so easy to poke at your insecurities and weak spots. you hated yourself for it. you were completely aware that it was a weakness, but could never bring yourself to control it. this was one of those moments. the hot shame of embarrassment crept its way from your gut as your eyes welled against your will. the guys actually seemed to be at loss. sunoo glared at ni-ki and rubbed slow circles on your back, but it was painfully obvious none of them had dealt with this before. the cherry on top was mina’s silent, cold glare you could feel penetrating your spine. ni-ki let out a large sigh before crushing his cigarette and opening his arms. drunk at the possibility of acceptance, and the fact that against all odds, mina told you he had feelings for you, you allowed yourself to be scooped in his arms like putty. it was humiliating how quickly you were at ease. he had long, rather large arms that encased you and made you feel comforted. as the conversation caught back up again, you completely relaxed into his arms and allowed him to occasionally blow smoke into your face. 

the rest of the night went well with more humiliation being limited to having to kiss jake in truth or dare. that you could deal with. still giddy off of ni-ki’s skinship, your head had been in the cloud the entire time. the party had significantly calmed down and sunoo was ready to head home causing you to begin to look for mina and sunghoon. sunghoon had been doing his own thing the whole party, and mina had left the smoking room a bit ago. giving your goodbyes to sunoo, jake, and jungwon, you made your way down the stairs feeling triumphant when you did in fact, not fall. you scoured the party only seeing sunghoon’s tall figure in the corner, no mina in sight. you pushed past people to make your over to him.

“uh, sorry to interrupt.” you said hesitantly as sunghoon and jay talked. sunghoon immediately turned to you,

“no worries, whats up.”

“I think I’m ready to go home if that’s okay.” sunghoon put his beer bottle in jay’s hands and he gleefully downed the rest for him.

“yeah sure, just go find mina and we’ll leave.” you nodded and moved to search the party once more. you were having far more trouble placing were mina was as the house was rather large and mina was quite a bit shorter then sunghoon. walking down a hallway, you got away from the music a bit and could think a bit clearer. the weed from earlier though still clouded you mind, so the sounds of moaning didn’t quite reach your ears before you turned another corner and your heart dropped. mina’s back was to you, but her long dark hair was the first thing you saw. the second? ni-ki’s piercing dark eyes. with one hand up her shirt and the other shoved under her skirt, his eyes snapped straight to yours with his mouth clearly occupied. you watched frozen as mina pressed herself further into him and he used a hand to shove her head in between his shoulder and neck. his eyes never leaving yours, you watched as he smirked devilishly and undid the only tie holding mina’s shirt up causing her to moan into him and her shirt to flutter to the ground. you could feel bile begin to rise up into your throat as you finally tore yourself away from the horrid sight and stumbled back the way you came. your breathing rapidly increased as you felt saliva fill your mouth and vomit fell on the wooden floor of the hallway, mina’s moans still bouncing along the walls. in daze, you began stumbling out of the party and ran into sunghoon waiting outside. he looked up from his phone and immediately cringed at your appearance.

“dude… what happened?” you swallowed dryly and wiped some of the bile from your mouth with hand as tears welled in your eyes.

“I uh, I don’t think mina’s coming.” 

------------------------------ + -------------------------------

the thoughts were all consuming. you weren’t special. you were average like you’ve been your whole life. no one would give you the attention you wanted and no one would give you a second glance. mina walked into the dorm in the early hours of that morning, stopping by you and giselle’s shared room to poke her head in. she scoffed at your appearance, covers shoved to the end of the bed, the dress you had worn that night still on, and makeup smeared with bile still on your face. you knew cause you hadn’t been able to sleep. you just laid awake, staring at the wall as giselle’s snores broke apart your blank thoughts. 

you’re not special

[fyodors--ushanka]

Finding out you do illicit substances- Dazai, Chuuya, and Atsushi.

genre: fluff

WARNING: Drug use

Dazai:

Okay, I heavily headcanon that he used drugs in his dark era and still might use them.

He was mad when he found you, bottle of pills in hand, curled up on your floor.

You hadn't shown up to work that day, and he was sent to find you.

He's dealt with a number of near-overdoses, so naturally, he forces you to vomit.

He cried when you apologized, slurring your words.

"Dazai! 'm sorry...'m so sorry!" "I should have noticed before...."

He got rid of every pill and pill bottle, and told the ADA that you were sick.

Only Ranpo, Dazai, and Yosano have knowledge of this as Yosano helped Dazai nurse you back from the depths of addiction.

He checks on you often, making sure you eat.

Chuuya:

Chuuya has experience with drugs as well.

He slapped the ever living shit out of you, effectively waking you up.

He took every single drug from your house, and destroyed them.

He cried a bit, questioning if he's the reason you used.

Fortunately, he got you a week off of work,

He made you food, forcing you to eat.

"Eat it." "No." *deep inhale* "I will share my wine thi-" "say less."

He nursed you through the withdraw.

Forehead kisses, Ice water, and hugs.

Atsushi:

Face it, he freaked upon finding you high.

He called Yosano and Dazai whilst panicking.

"Atsushi, calm down. What's the problem?" "Y-y/n took drugs!" "What kind?" "I-it says Tramadol!" "Shit! I've got Narcan in my bag! Just wait!"

He held you while waiting, crying.

Dazai covered his eyes as Yosano treated you, not wanting him to see it.

He held you to his chest when you woke up.

Dazai frowned and Yosano shed a few tears.

Their excuse was that you were sick and Atsushi was taking care of you.

He fed you, made you drink water, and got rid of every drug he could find.

[aidulusion]

GNOME ATTACK

pairing : george weasley x fem!reader

word count : 1k

summary : it's your first day at the burrow, and you need to clear out gnomes from the garden with your friends.

proofread? : yes.

creds to plutism for the divider!

You had befriended two mischief makers during your life at Hogwarts—Fred and George. The first time you met them was when they fed a first year some candy which resulted in the poor kid to start vomiting out the dinner he had.

You thought about that incident up till today, even while writing a letter to the better looking twin, that is, George. 

He had invited you to stay over at his house for the summer, and you were more than happy to spend some more time with your best friends. It took a lot of begging for your parents to finally allow you to do the same, but you succeeded in the end.

————

It was the day you were going to leave for the burrow, your father didn’t let you use floo powder and put the responsibility of dropping you upon himself.

You packed all your bags, finally got your owl to get in his cage, and went downstairs to chug two slices of bread down your throat because you were way too impatient to see your friends once again.

Your father was waiting outside, you said your goodbyes to your mother and exited your house, a bright smile on your face.

————

“If you need anything, just send me an owl.” your dad smiled. The both of you were standing in front of the burrow, all your luggage in your hands.

You nodded, and hugged him before knocking on the door, your dad had left by now.

As soon as the doors opened, you were greeted with the warmest hug ever, which was given by Fred and George’s mother—Molly.

“Hello dear! (Y/N), am I right? Fred and George talk about you all the time!” She exclaimed gleefully, you were completely heartwarmed by how nice their mother was to you.

She guided you inside, the burrow was small, yet it was all warm and cozy inside. You saw many familiar faces, and it turned out Harry and Hermione were there too. 

After settling down, you sat down on a couch, talking to Ginny. It didn’t take long for the both of you to start hearing a strange rustling sound, turns out it were just your two friends making their way downstairs.

“(Y/N)! Can’t believe you actually came!” One said loud enough for everyone in the house to hear.

“—We really missed you!” The other one added. 

You smiled as they embraced you in a  warm hug, you were just as happy to see them as they were to see you.

Ginny interrupted the moment, sighing softly.

“Sorry to interrupt the moment, but mom told you both to clear out the gnomes in the garden.”

She sighed again, looking at the twins. Both of them groaned in annoyance, George looked at you, before looking back at Ginny.

“Can’t we do it later? (Y/N) just came!” George pouted, hoping Ginny will make up some reason to cover up for him and his brother.

“Yeah, you wouldn’t like it if mom gave you chores the moment Harry came, eh?” Fred added, snickering to himself.

“Shut up, Fred!” Ginny shouted at him.

You just watched the whole scene unfold, looking at the twins then back at Ginny as they bickered endlessly.

“How about I help you both clear out the gnomes? It’d still be the same as spending time together.” You questioned them both, a soft smile plastered on your face.

“That’s a great idea!” Ginny smiled at me, before looking back at the two gingers. Their faces were brightening up as well, before they grabbed you and dragged you out of the house and to the garden.

“It’s been a while since I’ve done this, gnomes don’t usually find their way in my garden..” You mumbled, quite embarrassed by yourself.

“It’s fine, love! You just need to toss them far enough to not come back.” George explained, while Fred quickly got to work.

When you finally understood what to do, you went for your first gnome. You pulled it by the hand and threw it quite far away. Both of them watched in awe as the gnome flew to a nearby hill, looking back at you once a loud thud was heard from the same.

“What a fast learner!” Both of them sneered at the same time. Those words just boosted your ego even more, you grabbed another gnome and threw it as far as you could..

It was easier than you thought, there were only a few more gnomes left and you could go back and have fun with the rest of the Weasley family, not that you weren’t enjoying this.

Unfortunately, the last gnome which you grabbed was rather a feral one. It freed itself from your grasp and found itself on your face. 

The twins immediately started laughing as the gnome rapidly smacked your face. You were struggling to get it off, but the grip it had on your ears was intense. All you could do was punch the gnome back, as your two friends continued to laugh their brains out, you fell on your back while punching the gnome uncontrollably.

While Fred still continued to snicker, George finally helped you out. Removing the gnome carefully so it didn’t rip your ears out, he tried to control his laugh when he saw your reddened face from all the fighting.

“There there, sweetheart. The immense battle is over now.” He cooed, caressing your cheek which was slightly bruised from the gnome's sharp teeth. You slapped his hand away playfully as you stood up on your own. Groaning slightly as you touched your left cheek.

“Don’t call me sweetheart when all you do is laugh when I’m getting attacked, even if it's a gnome!” You hissed, but there was still a hint of playfulness in your tone. He just started laughing again, causing you to turn your head and go back to the burrow.

What a great way to start your summer, you have a forever fear of gnomes now and you won’t go near an infested garden ever again.

exams coming up. a very very good luck to me and everyone else who have exams next week 😭

[kairismess]

red velvet cake. (kuroo tetsurou 2023 birthday fic !!)

🏐 genre: a slice of fluff and a ton of birthday gifts!

✒️ word count: 791

💭 summary: kuroo's been so busy lately that he's forgotten why today was so important... you

💗 special mentions: @zdenque @xoxo-cha yang !! (kaso idk what ur @ is UEUEUEU)

🍥 author's note: yung mas masarap siya kaysa sa keyk.

taking off his jacket and loosening his tie, kuroo finally felt like he could take a break for once from all the work he's had to do this week. he slumped down on the sofa, sighing from exhaustion, just wanting to fall asleep, not caring about how he had to do household chores right away. the minute he closed his eyes, however, he felt a couple of cold hands cover them. "chibi-chan, i know you're there." he mumbled tiredly. you giggle in response. "it's a good thing you know, then, tetsu... because i think you were almost about to sleep on the little thing i prepared for you." kuroo raised an eyebrow as he placed his hands on top of yours, feeling the softness of your hands, but noted how sweet they smelled. "did you bake tonight, babe?" he asked you, making you nod. "correct! but the question is... what did i bake?"

kuroo gave a light chuckle at your playfulness and the mystery surprise your had prepared for him. he clicked his tongue and thought hard about what you were making. "hmm... chocolate cake?" "close, but no." "ah, red velvet cake." he was spot on. you sighed and removed your hands from his face, smiling up at him not long after with a slice of red velvet and cream cheese cake on a plate with a red candle lit on it for him. "shoulda known you'd be too sharp to fool you." you mumbled under your breath, pouting a little.

kuroo looked at the cake and back at you with a hint of confusion in his gaze. "what's this... for?" nevermind, he wasn't as sharp as you thought, or maybe this was an effect of him overworking himself. you chuckled and moved closer to him as he looked at the cake with intrigue and a new hunger in his stomach. "it's your birthday, tetsu..." you reminded him, making him blush a little in embarrassment. he smirked, but you could tell he was still flustered beneath that confident aura. "r-right, you remembered...?" "you're my boyfriend, how could i ever forget?" you asked him as he leaned close to you, parting his lips slightly as he wordlessly asked you to spoonfeed him.

"c'mon, babe... please? it's your favorite boy's birthday... it'd make me really happy for you to baby me, just for tonight..." he whispered in your ear, his lips against your earlobe, kissing the space between your cheekbone and ear, smiling against your skin. it sent a shivering sensation up your body, yet a warm, flushed feeling down your shoulders. you decided to give in and fed him yourself, with him happily eating up the piece of cake, and exaggeratedly humming and smiling in approval. "is it good?" you asked him, a little anxious. kuroo looked into your eyes and grinned, placing his thumb on your cheek, rubbing it gently. "it's... it tastes like chocolate cake, but it's got some C18H14N2Na2O8S2 in it, with a whole lot of love. of course it does, it's the best cake i've ever had, love." he mutters, kissing your cheek as you're left stunned by both that word vomit of a chemical formula that he uttered and because of his kiss and compliments.

"i'm not even gonna ask what that means..." "it's the chemical composition for red food dye..." he mumbles, wrapping his arm around you as he lazily cuddles with you on the sofa, mumbling how soft and squishy you feel underneath him. "this is the best birthday ever. thank you, chibi-chan." he thanked you with a tired smile, his joy overshadowing his fatigue, and his smile lighting up the room even more than the dim lights did. you felt yourself get a little shy at his gaze, but you found the strength to nod and smile back, leaning against his chest after setting the plate down on the coffee table.

"and i want it to be the best birthday every year for you..." you declared softly, making kuroo chuckle as he pulled you closer to him. "it always will be, babe; as long as you're with me, it'll always be the best birthday." he reassured you, resting his head against yours, kissing it every now and then as he let the minutes pass by that you're in his arms; relishing in the fact that, even if he's getting older, he'll still love you all the same, maybe even more so with your little gifts, gestures, smiles, and touches that are for him and him alone. kuroo couldn't ask for a better birthday gift than this, because you have always been the perfect gift for him, your love has already made him the happiest man in the world, from now until the very end.

[userlando]

✧･ﾟ 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮

steve murphy x female!reader [11.4k] summary ⤍ you’d dealt with men worse than him in the academy and through your entire life really, but steve… he was something. warnings ⤍ enemies to lovers, reader gets hurt & nursed back to health, mentions of concussion, injuries and (brief) vomiting. a/n ⤍ i am, indeed, obsessed with steve at the moment so hope you aren’t tired of him yet. I had fun writing this so feedback would be appreciated!! also fun fact: I took a big fall and got a concussion last week so that’s what inspired me to write this lmao. anyway enjoy!! <3

Growing up, you aspired to be whatever bullshit stereotypical career society pushed you to be. Your mother was adamant to pump that belief into you as soon as you popped out, dressing you in princess clothes and gently scolding you when you expressed your desire to play with anything that wasn’t deemed feminine and shaped as a doll. The disappointments kept rolling through when you one day announced that you were going to become a cop, and your poor parents nearly lost their minds at the thought of their sweet daughter chasing criminals with a gun holstered at your side.

You couldn’t really blame them, but nothing had felt as right in your life as the day you became a DEA agent. It was a tough career because not only was it mentally exhausting and physically challenging, but the misogyny deeply rooted in that department really made your teeth grind.

There wasn’t a day that didn’t go by where you did your best to prove yourself, and it felt a little like a reward when you were asked to join the team down in Colombia to fight the narcos.

It was hard, you couldn’t deny that. Not only was it a male dominant space, but your two partners really did nothing to make your life easier at the start. Javier had softened considerably after a few weeks, and it felt a little like a reward when you realised one day that he’d stopped seeing you as a person with tits and an ass and started seeing you as an equal. It was fucked up, but it was a relief.

Steve though. Steve Murphy. The two of you butted heads right from the start. The man was a ticking bomb just waiting to go off; Anger issues and short, stubborn tempers wrapped up in a messy bow. There had been some comments coming from his mouth at the beginning, but you were strong enough to ignore them, smart enough to realise that the man’s words were coming from a place of inferiority and insecurity rather than hatred.

You only had so much patience to dish out though. A few months down the line in sweaty and crime riddled Colombia, and a handful of failed attempts to catch Escobar in the act, and you were fed up. You weren’t proud of the day where you finally snapped, but you were definitely in the right and that was something you’d stand by until the end of time.

It was just the icing on the cake, wasn’t it? When you’d followed up on a tip and ended up tailing one of Pablo’s sicarios through the town. You’d lost him and it had been inevitable, really. Those assholes were like snakes, and they sure slithered away from your grip like one. You’d gone back to the office, sweaty and angry and Steve had mumbled something about how you’d fucked it all up. It wasn’t your fault really, but that one passive aggressive comment had irked you so much so that you had turned around and socked him before Javier could predict the consequences and stop it. There had been a stunned silence, followed by Steve’s exclamation of “what the fuck is wrong with you” and you probably should’ve felt embarrassed by the way everyone had stopped and stared at you. But you’d been shaking with anger and you’d turned and walked out before anyone got another word in. The next day had been mellow, no one bringing up the fact that your knuckles were a little bruised or how Steve looked a little too red around the nose.

It didn’t put you and Steve in a better position, you weren’t friends and the usual stakeouts usually happened between you and Javier or the latter and Steve. Desk duty usually consisted of an Oscar worthy performance in the art of ignoring each other with the occasional snide comments and bickering. Javier was quick to shut them down though, before they turned into something uglier.

You were better than that. But you couldn’t help it, there was something that just really didn’t sit well with you when it came to Steve. He really knew how to dance on your nerves just by giving you a look, a noise from his mouth, anything. You’d dealt with men worse than him in the academy and through your entire life really, but Steve… He was something.

It was a Friday and another day in the office, consisting of working tirelessly with translating radio and phone calls. There was nothing you hated more than paperwork so sitting beside Trujillo and listening in on calls was something you were happy to do. It was gruelling work, but it paid off when you caught the voice of someone about a shipment coming in with a hefty amount of coke.

Carrillo had sent you all out on the hunt, ordering you to only get back if you had something to show off. You all were determined, and things had gone well up until the point where one of Escobar’s sicarios had caught sight of you sitting in your car. He bolted like a rat, and you weren’t far behind as you scrambled to chase him down alleyways and into apartments.

Shit had gone sideways though. It came with the job, really. One second you were jumping over railings, hot on the tail of one of the two men and you’d decided in the midst of chaos that you’d had enough. A bullet in the asshole’s kneecap would surely stop him from getting away. You’d reached for your gun and then… Nothing.

There was a moment where you didn’t know where you were or what had transpired, mind going scarily blank as you found yourself on your back and eyes blinking up at a painfully bright and blue sky. You frowned, wondering why everything felt so hazy right before your awareness crept up; Mind working overtime to make sense of how you’d gotten here. Your lips parted in a groan, scrunching your nose at the incessant ringing in your ear because what the fuck was that?

Panic shot through your body when your thoughts slowly started to piece things together, thinking that surely you’d been shot. But you weren’t bleeding, and there was no pain in your body that resembled the feeling of a gunshot wound.

You weren’t sure whether you were imagining a voice shouting your name, but it sounded panicked enough for you to twist where you laid on the rubble of rotten planks and god knows what. The zip of pain shooting through your entire body took you by surprise, and you let out a pained shout when you felt your head ache in a way you hadn’t felt in a while.

“Hey, hey, hey.” The voice was soothing, out of breath and you struggled to push yourself up into a sitting position to locate the voice among the general noise of cars and pedestrians of Bogotá. “Easy.”

It was like magic, how Steve appeared in your field of view out of nowhere and you realised a little belatedly that he’d been the one to shout your name. He got down on his knees and eased you back by the shoulders when you tried to sit up. Panic climbed in your throat at the fire hot pain blazing in your back and you tried to seek comfort in something familiar. Like Steve’s wide eyes or his moving lips when he talked.

“No, hey, stay there. You might have broken something.” He said, a little sternly, a little exasperated.

The tone of his voice brought a familiar comfort of it amidst the confusion swirling in your mind and it was enough to kick it into high gear. The natural response of going against everything Steve Murphy advised.

“I’m fine,” you insisted, swatting his hand away when he felt your arms and ribs up in search of anything broken. “I’m okay, Murphy. Can you stop feeling me up?”

Steve glared at you and you tried to ignore how the world was spinning, trying to focus on the blue of his squinty eyes.

“Only you’d try to play off a fall like that .” He shook his head, glancing up before settling his gaze on you again.

You followed his eyes, something in your mind clicking of what exactly had happened. The roof was way further up than you’d realised and you must’ve somehow miscalculated the length of the roof building and ran right into thin air in the midst of chaos.

“You okay?” He asked and you looked at him before attempting yet again to haul yourself up.

He didn’t protest this time, silently helping you to sit up without rattling your injured head too much. The world was still spinning though, and nausea settled deep into your stomach.

“Where’s Javi?” You asked instead, and Steve’s eyebrows jumped a little like he knew you were trying to dodge his question.

“He’s still chasing the fucker, but I don’t doubt he’ll come back empty handed.” The man replied, tilting his head to get eye contact with you when your head started to dip a little.

It was becoming slightly difficult to keep your head up, with the way it was pounding like someone had taken a bat to it. You barely registered the gentle hand Steve was sliding over your cheek, fingers spanning over the sensitive skin of the side of your neck under your ear. He slowly tipped your head back upright and sighed.

“I think you’ve got a concussion.” He noted and you hummed in what you hoped sounded like a sarcastic laugh.

“Thank you, captain obvious.” You murmured, bringing a hand up to the other side of your head where it was hurting the most. “It fucking hurts.”

Steve tried not to show it on his face but that one confession had surprised him. You weren’t one to admit when you were feeling discomfort, too proud to show any type of weakness. He remembered how you’d once sprained your wrist early on and you’d still went through with chasing down one of Pablo’s sicarios until you had him in handcuffs. Steve hadn’t realised you’d been injured, he’d only found out when he walked into a back room at the office and accidentally found you wrapping your wrist up like it was a walk in the park.

He would never admit it out loud, but that was the first time he’d felt respect for you.

You winced when he felt the side of your head, looking for blood or any type of trauma and he heaved a little sigh of relief when he found nothing other than a small bump.

“You’ll be okay, let’s get you up.” He said. “I’ll take you to the doctors and they’ll have a look at your head.”

You groaned in annoyance as he stood up, bending at the knees to help you up on your feet.

“I’m fine, I don’t need a doctor.” You insisted, but the spinning in your head said otherwise. Steve grunted when you stumbled into him, catching you before you both fell over.

You blinked up at him, trying not to glare too hard at the amused arch of his eyebrows.

“You sure about that?”

Your pride took a small hit when you realised that you had to lean on Steve way more than expected, letting him guide you out of the alleyway and out onto the streets. The noise of the rumbling cars and chatter of the people made your head hurt, and you squinted at the brightness of the sun. Whatever you did made your head hurt, and you suddenly longed for a long hot shower and your bed.

“Hey, there you are.” Javier’s voice said from somewhere and you didn’t bother to turn, stumbling a little when Steve halted his walking. “The fucker got away— What happened to her?”

“She fell off the roof, banged her head pretty hard.” Steve jostled you a little and you let out a small pained sound. “I think she has a concussion so I’m taking her to the doctor.”

“Fuck, okay, I’ll bring the car around.” Javier’s voice sounded frustrated and a little worried, and you found that the expression on his face matched his voice when he appeared in front of you. He reached a hand out and touched your chin. “You okay?”

Any other guy would’ve gotten their fingers twisted if they’d touched you like that, but Javier was Javier and you’d come to grow very fond of him. And he did seem genuinely concerned.

“I’m fine.” You said for the fifteenth time and Steve made a noise of annoyance at your stubbornness.

“Yeah, that’s what you keep saying.” His voice dripped in sarcasm and you shoved him weakly in the side.

“Shut the fuck up, asshole.”

Javier shot you both an amused stare, shoving a hand into his pocket to fish his keys out.

“Good to know you haven’t lost your fight.”

You flashed him the finger and watched him walk away with a laugh.

“Hey, whoa!”

You hadn’t felt how the world had tilted on its axis, losing your footing and crashing into Steve. He was quick to grab you and you made a noise in your throat when your head started pounding even more intently, pressing your forehead against the damp fabric of his shirt; Right against his right pec to ground yourself. You’d never so much as touched the man before, so you blamed it on you being concussed and too sickly to stand on your own.

Steve didn’t say anything, thankfully, wrapping an arm around your shoulders to hold you up while the two of you waited for Javi to bring the car around. You didn’t know how long you had run for, but it had been enough for you to work up a sweat so you guessed it was a distance back to the car. Which is why it was a surprise when the familiar Jeep pulled up so quickly, Steve ushering you into the backseat and you tried to make yourself comfortable for the long ride.

You didn’t know why you’d expected Steve to close the door and take his place in the passenger seat, a small scrunch forming in your brow when he got in right behind you and shut the door. He glanced at you, halting his movements when he noticed you staring a little too hard.

“What?” He asked, defensive.

“Nothing.” You rolled your eyes, turning your head just in time to hide the grimace at the ache that one small gesture induced.

It was a distance to get back to the part of the town where you all resided, the doctors emergency room not too far away from your apartment building. It was a blessing in disguise.

The ride back was long, or maybe it felt that way because your brain was too fried to keep up with the conversation your two partners were having. The sun beating down through the windows didn’t make it better, making you shift in your seat to avoid the beaming sun on your left side. That also meant that you’d shifted closer to Steve’s side, making you both awkwardly glance at each other and you to scoot back.

“You doing okay, mija?” Javier asked, glancing at you in the front mirror when he noticed your dragged out silence and you hummed.

Normally he’d be fighting to get you to shut up whenever you rode in the same car as Steve. Which happened a lot. He didn’t wanna voice it, but your lack of bickering and talking worried him a little. Steve was being unusually quiet too. Javier glanced at the blond man to your right, making a mental note to ask about the way he was sneaking looks at you whenever you weren’t looking.

“Head hurts.” You murmured in reply, leaning your head back against the headrest and closing your eyes to shield them from the brightness of the environment.

The movement of the car and the streets passing by you so quickly was starting to make you nauseous, and you willed yourself to not throw up. Although, doing it in Steve’s lap would surely bring some comedic relief on your part.

“Hey, no. No falling asleep.” Javi’s urgent voice made you blink your eyes open and you shot him a glare. “Yeah, give me that look all you want but you shouldn’t fall asleep until you’ve gotten your head checked. You know that.” He gripped the steering wheel a little tighter and shot Steve a glance. “Make sure she stays awake.”

The snort you let out was both unattractive and made your head hurt, making Steve roll his eyes and shoot you a look.

“How am I supposed to do that? She’s usually the one who can’t shut the fuck up.” He said and you gritted your teeth at the small jab.

“Maybe I would if you weren’t so fucking annoying.” You shot back at him.

“Me? Annoying?” Steve turned in his seat and you tried not to stare at the way the tightness of his jeans were making his thighs look huge. “You wanna talk about annoying, sweetheart? How about not falling of a god damn roof when we’re trying to catch those motherfuckers out there. You’re the reason he —“

“Steve!” Javier barked, a poor effort to shut him up because Steve continued.

“No, Jav. She fucked this up and you know it! We almost had him.”

“You’re making this my problem?” There was no hiding the sheer disbelief and anger in your voice. “You could’ve gone after him, I didn’t need you to come and save me like you’re some kind of fucked up white knight.”

Steve huffed out a laugh that sounded anything but joyful, positive, and it made your blood boil.

“Of course you’d say that, because when has ‘thank you’ ever been in your fucking vocabulary!” Steve was seething, looking on the verge of a meltdown but so were you. “You’re always too fucking proud.”

His accusing yelling and your anger was starting to get to you. It made the car feel entirely too tiny, like someone was compressing it and you knew that if you didn’t get your ass out of there then you’d do or say something you’d regret. Thankfully, Javier had just pulled up onto a familiar street, and it took you a second to recognise that you were just across the street from the hospital. Javier put the car in park and you scrambled to yank the handle of the door open, frustration and anger climbing in your throat when you couldn’t get the door open fast enough.

Everything was spinning and hurting, but you’d be damned if you spent another second in this car.

“You’re a real asshole, you know that?” Were your departing words and you didn’t spare any of them a glance as you climbed out.

It was difficult to make sense of direction with the way your head was pounding and spinning like you were on a merry-go-round, but you mustered all your strength into slamming the door of the Jeep closed.

You started walking across the road without looking both ways, thinking that the day couldn’t get worse even if you got hit by a car. Javier called your name a few times, giving up when he realised that it was futile and you hoped that no one would follow you because you definitely needed to cool off. They knew that.

A few painkillers and a bandaged upper arm was what you got after your impromptu doctors visit. Apparently, you’d cut your arm and it had bled without you knowing but it made sense with the way it had been hurting. But then again, your whole body hurt.

The doctor had looked at you sternly and advised you to be on bed rest for the next three days and you’d kept the scowl off your face, thinking that as long as Escobar and his men were running around causing mayhem, you’d be on your feet.

You walked out of the hospital slowly, a little more steady on your feet than when you’d walked in an hour ago. There was a slight pause when you realised that you would need to either walk home or call Javier for a ride, settling on the latter just as you looked up and spotted his Jeep parked across the street.

You started walking towards it, squinting to make out who was sitting in the car and steeling yourself for the agonising conversation you surely would have with Javier. He’d find a way to bring up what had happened an hour prior in his own evading way and you weren’t really in the mood for that. All you wanted was to go home and sleep the rest of the day. Surely, you’d earned that?

The window was rolled down on the passengers side and you walked around to peek in it, coming to a short stop when you came face to face with blond hair and blond mustache, rather than the black. Steve was sitting behind the wheel, one forearm resting on the wheel and he tilted his head to look out the window.

“Hey.” Was all he said.

But it was all you needed from him to turn around and start walking because there was no way you’d endure the short trip back to your complex with him.

“Wait, stop.” The urgency in his voice made you halt and you turned your head to stare at him wordlessly. “Get in the car.”

You arched your brow.

“Just…” he blew out a frustrated breath. “Get in the damn car.”

You didn’t know what possessed you to comply, but you found yourself climbing into the Jeep without a word being said. Steve cleared his throat and reached for the ignition, the engine of the beat up car rumbling to life. The sound filled the tense air and you didn’t even try to hide the way you were looking at the man’s side profile, trying to gauge his mood.

“Quit lookin’ at me.” He grumbled, stealing a glance at you when you didn’t avert your gaze. “Javier refused to come back for you, said I should do it.”

“Nice to know that you did it out of the goodness of your own heart.” You looked out the window, not feeling particularly sad about it.

You could hear your partner suck in a breath, like he was trying to keep himself calm.

“Can you just…” He paused, steeling himself. “Never mind.”

There were no more words exchanged between the two of you as he drove you back home. You didn’t know why, but there was some type of guilt festering inside you for treating him like shit after he clearly tried to help you when you’d taken that fall. You were quick to shove those feelings to the side though, convincing yourself that you had nothing to feel guilty about.

Steve parked outside the building where you all lived, shutting the engine off and you looked at him when you sensed him looking at you.

“Was everything… Okay?” He asked and you would’ve laughed in his face at his inability to act civil with you, but you didn’t have the energy for it.

“Yeah, just a concussion. Said I needed to rest.” You replied, leaving out the part where the doctor had said to have someone beside you for the first night.

Being woken up every two hours felt like a lot, and you didn’t have anyone to ask. Javier would’ve probably done it, but you doubted he’d be able to keep himself awake the whole night and would probably crash within five hours.

You clambered out of the car, taking in a deep breath to get rid of the sudden dizziness that came with being in a moving car and getting out. The door on the other side shut and Steve came around the corner, shooting you a weary look.

“You alright?” He asked and you hummed.

“No need to be carried if that’s what you’re asking me.” You said, opting to make your voice sound a little lighter rather than hostile.

Steve laughed through his nose, holding his hands up in surrender as he started walking to the door. You followed him silently, not pointing out how he stepped to the side when you reached the stairs and had you walking up in front of him.

You did, however, arch a questioning eyebrow when you unlocked your door and stepped inside; Noticing that he was following you in.

“What are you—?”

Steve stepped further inside, forcing you back until he had enough room to shut the front door behind the two of you.

“I’m staying with you.” He said simply.

“The hell you are!” The thought of him in your apartment felt a little bizarre, he’d probably never been here out of his own volition and knowing that he was the one that was gonna take care of you made you a little nervous.

Not that he was a bad caretaker or anything of the sort, but you didn’t have that kind of relationship with him. And you could take care of yourself fine.

“Look, I don’t want this as much as you do but you and I both know it’s either me or some other idiot from work who’s gonna be staying here.” He said and you scrunched your face up in a grimace at that thought. “Yeah, exactly.”

“Why not Javier?” You asked, toeing your shoes off.

“He’s… Working.”

Working. If that’s what you would call fucking sex workers for intel on Pablo. The thought made you raise your eyebrows in amusement.

Steve draped his jacket over your armchair and you made great effort to not point out how you had perfectly fine and working hooks to hang up his clothes, making your way to the little space of your kitchen instead.

It wasn’t a particularly big apartment, one of the smaller ones in the building but you had come to love it. Javier had gotten the bigger one, and you’d never been in Steve’s but you knew that it was on the more bigger side. Bigger than yours at least.

You switched the tiny fan on, watching it spin on the kitchen counter until it made you dizzy before looking away to find Steve standing awkwardly in the space between the kitchen and living area.

“Why don’t you go take a shower?” He suggested and it, for once, sounded like the best idea he’d ever had.

Nothing sounded better than a shower, and you nodded gently. You collected your clothes from your small bedroom and huddled into your bathroom, making sure to keep the door unlocked but firmly closed. There was no way of knowing if you’d end up passing out in the shower cubicle or not, and you weren’t too eager to find out.

The water felt like the gates of heaven had opened up and swallowed you whole, cold shower pelting your sore skin and no doubt soaking your newly bandaged up arm. There were little thoughts swirling in your mind, face tipped up towards the stream as you enjoyed the moment of reprieve.

You didn’t know how long you were in there for, but you emerged a moment later in freshly washed clothes and your hair wrapped up in a towel. There was still some soreness lingering in your body, your head having taking the worst brunt of it, and you could only imagine how you would feel tomorrow morning.

Steve was puttering around in the kitchen and you silently walked up behind and slipped up to sit on the barstool. He still hadn’t noticed you sneaking up on him and you took it as a chance to regard him in his natural habitat.

You had never seen him so… domestic. Office Steve was a different person, always had his grumpy game face on and a tension to his shoulder that never really went away. The only times you had seen him even remotely relaxed were the rare occasions where you’d all go out to a nearby bar and celebrate the small wins when something good happened, or drink yourselves to oblivion when shit went south.

Here, though? He looked almost content. You didn’t really know why, but the sight of him in your kitchen felt almost too normal. Like it was a usual occurrence for him to be standing in his socks, making grilled sandwiches in your kitchen.

You were so immersed in your thoughts that you almost jumped when he turned around, freezing his movement for a second before he registered that it was you sitting there and not some kind of intruder.

“Fuck, didn’t hear you come back.” He said, a little wide eyed.

He placed a plate of one grilled cheese sandwich in front of you and you stared. Your stomach rumbled at the sight of it and you vaguely remembered the last time you’d eaten was hours ago.

“You made me grilled cheese?” You asked, voice smaller than you would’ve liked it to be. Because… huh?

Steve gave you a look that screamed obviously, why would I not? Like it was a given that he’d make you food. Like you were crazy for thinking that he’d do anything else but take care of you. It felt like you had somehow struck your head harder on the rubble and dropped down to an alternate reality where Steve was actually being nice to you.

“Yeah, hope you don’t mind…” He trailed off, looking a little out of place all of a sudden. He swirled around and located a mug that was steaming, placing it in front of you. “I made you tea.”

It smelled like camomile and it made you stare into the mug like it was an alien. You looked up at Steve and narrowed your eyes a little in contemplation.

This was the same man that would take every opportunity given to fight with you. Who would push when you pulled and who’d spent the last year making your life a living hell. Not to say that you hadn’t returned the sentiment, you were just as much of an asshole as he was and it was a wonder that Javier ever tolerated the two of you in the same room. Which was every day.

“Thank you.” You said, and you really meant it.

Steve gave you a look and turned around again. You didn’t realise what that look meant until he’d brought a chair around to sit opposite side of you by the counter with his own mug of coffee and sandwich.

Of course you’d say that, because when has ‘thank you’ ever been in your fucking vocabulary. That’s what he had said earlier today in the car. It made you feel a little ashamed when you recalled just how many times Steve’d had your back without you stopping to realise it or worse: Thanking him for it. All you had ever done was repay him with your snark.

That’s why you both worked so well together out on the streets. You both had each others backs no matter what.

“Hey, um.” You paused and averted your eyes to look at the steam wafting up from the mug. Steve was looking at you, you could see it from your peripheral vision and it made you nervous. “I’m sorry. About today.”

And every other time. Maybe you were too fucking proud.

“You don’t have to do that.” Steve said, voice low and you pulled your gaze up to meet his. “There’s no need.”

You huffed out a frustrated breath, “Yes I do. Look, I was an asshole and you know it. I fucked everything up and you did nothing but help me.”

“You didn’t fuck anything up.” He said, knitting his eyebrows.

You tried not to let the blues of his eyes distract you, averting your eyes yet again to pick your sandwich up just so your hands would stop seeking each other out in that annoying wringing motion you always did as a nervous habit.

“Hey, if anything, I should apologise for saying that. The snake bastard was gonna slip away from our hands whether you had fallen or not. So don’t… don’t dwell on it. What’s done is done.”

What’s done is done. Wasn’t that the truth.

“Now eat your sandwich, gotta re-dress that thing after.” He nodded at your upper arm where the sad excuse of a bandage was holding on for dear life after absorbing so much water from the shower.

You both finished your meal rather quickly, and Steve urged you to finish drinking your tea because it helps with the headache, I swear it. You weren’t too sure about that, but he sounded convincing enough.

After downing some painkillers, you settled on the couch after going on a hunt for your trusty old first aid kit. Steve grabbed it from your hands and ignored your half-assed protests when you saw him pull it open to dig through it.

You insisted that you could do it on your own, but quickly shut up when Steve glared at you. You didn’t have the energy to fight him.

There was a silence as he redressed your cut, cleaning it up and murmuring sorries when you flinched at the sting. He was patient though, a concentrated look on his face as he worked meticulously. There was a gentleness to him, hands soft and face relaxed.

You knew that he could probably tell that you were staring at him, but if he knew then he didn’t show it. He was kind enough to let you ogle him without calling you out on it, but there was a small quirk of the corner of his lip that told you that he found it amusing.

“Quit squirmin’.” He admonished you softly, glancing up at you and you blew out a breath you didn’t realise you were holding in.

The fall must’ve really messed with your head because what the hell was wrong with you? This was Steve.

“There, all done.” He straightened his back and you didn’t think too hard on why you felt disappointed when he moved back from your close proximity.

“Thank you.” You said again, and once more, Steve looked surprised. It was a fleeting, subtle look but you caught it. And fuck was it starting to embarrass you. “What? I’m showing my gratitude.”

You expected him to shoot back with something that would start up an argument, like it always did. What you didn’t expect was for him to crack a smile, aimed at you. It was so rare to have it right in your face, crinkles by the eyes and lips pulled up prettily. It startled you.

“Whatever.” You said around a smile that you couldn’t keep from your face. “I’m going to bed so you can see yourself out. I have a spare key by the door that you can use to lock up.”

You stood up and tried to ignore the way Steve shot a hand out to grab at your hip in a way to steady your wobbling. It wasn’t so much a grab as a gentle whisper of a touch, but it was unexpected enough to turn your stomach around.

“You keep your spare by the d —?” He stopped himself from chewing you out by the sheer stupidity of it, shaking his head gently. “I’m staying here, nice try, sweetheart. You need someone to monitor you.”

You could’ve put up a fight, scold him for being so stubborn and push him out the door with whatever strength you had left in your body. But the gears in your sore head were turning, blood rushing to your head because Steve had called you sweetheart. It had always been some unpleasant nicknames and your last name coming out of his mouth when he addressed you. He’d only ever called you sweetheart once, way back in an argument and you’d given him hell for being so condescending.

What you’d felt then and what you felt now were complete opposite feelings and it caused a turmoil in your body.

“Fine.” You bit out, a delayed response and it made Steve narrow his eyes a little curiously.

You took a few short steps to your bedroom, not quite feeling like you wanted to leave Steve alone. Not that he’d do something, but it was a new feeling to want to be around him rather than in a different room than him.

He sat back on the couch and looked at you with his legs a little splayed out. It took everything you had not to squirm where you were standing outside your bedroom door. Where the fuck did these weird feelings come from?

“Want me to come tuck you in?” He asked when you lingered a little too long by the door, amusement lacing his voice.

“Who knew there was a sense of humour beneath all that grump?” You feigned shock.

Steve flipped you off lazily and you let out a laugh.

“See you in two hours.” You wiggled your fingers in goodbye and slipped into your bedroom, heart pounding a little harder than you’d like to admit.

You welcomed the softness of your bed with open arms, splaying yourself out on your stomach and pushing your arms beneath your pillow. There was no mistaking the sleepiness creeping up your body, making your eyelids heavy.

There was no telling how long you were out for, but it didn’t feel like enough when you were woken up from your dead sleep by something touching your arm. You blinked your eyes blearily and turned your head to find your partner hovering over you.

It took a few seconds for your brain to catch up because your first thought was what the fuck is Steve Murphy in my bedroom? but then the pounding of your head made itself known and you croaked out an ow.

Your entire body felt like it was on fire when you turned on your back, pulling your covers up to your chin in a poor effort to hold onto your sleep.

Steve tsked with a growing smile on his face and pulled at the covers a little when he realised that you were trying to go back to sleep.

“None of that.” He scolded you, handing you something and you squinted in the dimmed room. Water and your medicine.

“Nurse Murphy.” You joked, heaving yourself up slowly with your back against the headboard. You let out a pained moan when the room suddenly started spinning, an ache making itself very known on the back of your head.

“You alright?” Steve’s voice was cautious, worried when he saw how your facial expression changed from pained to alert in barely a second.

You opened your mouth to speak and was hit by a wave of nausea, throwing your covers off your body and pushing Steve out of the way because fuck, you were on a mission to not vomit all over your bed and the poor man.

The slam of the door rattled your brain but you were too focused on bending over the toilet seat, heaving until your stomach twisted in discomfort.

“Fuck,” you groaned out loud when you’d caught your breath, reaching shakily for the handle and flushing.

You vaguely heard Steve knock on the door, asking if you were okay and you made a noise in your throat that you hoped said yeah give me a minute. A quick brush of the teeth, a deep rinse and a gurgle of mouthwash and you felt a little bit better. Good enough to open the door and walk out.

Steve was sitting on the foot of your bed, looking a little troubled. You observed him for a second, and took in the room now that you were more alert and awake.

The curtains were drawn shut and you realised that it must’ve been Steve being considerate before he woke you up, because you didn’t remember drawing them shut. You didn’t know how to feel about that, so you set that thought aside to mull over for another day.

“Did you go home?” You asked, noticing his damp hair and clothing change.

He must’ve slipped out to clean himself up when you were out cold, and he confirmed your assumption by a nod of the head. Whereas before he had his jeans, blue t-shirt and signature brown leather jacket, he’d gone for something much comfortable. He was still in his jeans, a pair of blue ones and he’d changed his shirt to one with a collar and the top buttons unbuttoned. He looked good.

You silently walked over and sat on the bed, hearing it creak.

“Y’need me to a call a doctor?” He asked, eyes roaming your face for any sign of discomfort. “Or Javier?”

That got a smile out of you.

“No, I’m alright.” You held yourself back from rolling your eyes when he raised his eyebrows a little. “I’m not being too proud, I really am okay. Doc said this would happen, but it’s nothing to worry about.”

Steve blew out a breath through his mouth and nodded.

“Alright, if you’re sure.” He gestured with a limp hand toward your nightstand. “Take your medicine, and then back to bed.”

You obliged him, still feeling a little sluggish when you crawled back under the covers. There were no words exchanged and you didn’t say anything when he helped you draw the covers over you, but he saw your poorly hidden smile.

“Shut up.” He murmured, with no real heat behind it.

“You’re a good nurse.” You said earnestly, with only a little laughter in your voice. “Seems like you chose the wrong career, Murphy.”

Steve’s eyebrows jumped in playful disbelief, still hovering over you.

“You calling me a shit agent?”

You smiled, “If the shoe fits.”

You watched him shake his head, like he was holding back from something that you couldn’t put your finger on.

“You’re insufferable.” He laughed and you nodded.

“So I’ve been told.” You sighed a little, wiggling further into the mattress.

The next time you were woken up, it had gone dark and it took a second for you to adjust to the light when Steve clicked the bedside lamp on. You blinked rapidly and pulled the covers over your head. There was no telling if the man laughed at that, the covers rustled too much but you were pretty sure that you could hear his chuckling.

“You feeling alright?” He asked and you sighed.

“How many times are you gonna ask me that, Steve?” You sounded exasperated, not giving him your face to look at as you continued to hide beneath the covers.

There was a silence that stretched for a little too long and you suddenly worried that you might’ve sounded a little too mean. A little shame pierced your heart all of a sudden and you pulled the fabric back to reveal your eyes to him. He was still standing there but he didn’t look angry or like he was gearing up for a fight. He looked a little shocked. Baffled maybe.

“What?” You asked, suddenly worried.

“You called me Steve.” He replied and you raised your brows.

That was his name, wasn’t it? You frowned.

“I always call you Steve.”

“You absolutely do not.” He suddenly gave an amused huff of laughter. “Always Murphy. Or fuckwad. Or asshole. Or—“

Your over the top groan cut him off and you stuck a leg out to kick him in the thigh. He jumped back with a laugh and you tried not to feel too wounded at that. His reflexes had always been better than yours. But you were the better shot so you had that going, at the very least.

“You’re an asshole.” You muttered lowly and Steve nodded.

“That’s more like it.”

You bit back a shut up, and placed the palm of your hand on the mattress to help you sit up in bed.

It was very dark outside, and you guessed that it must’ve been past midnight. Steve must’ve let you sleep in for longer, not waking you every two hours like planned. You didn’t ask about it, but if you did then he definitely would’ve lied. He would’ve spun a lie about how you probably needed the sleep.

Truth was, he had been dozing on your couch and watching shit TV, checking the clock obsessively and cracking your door open to make sure you were okay every hour. He didn’t want to wake you, but there was a slight worry that just wouldn’t let him rest when you’d fallen off the roof and that worry had only reached new heights when you got sick in the toilet.

He sat down on the edge of your bed and nodded at the steaming mug on the bedside table.

“Javi came by and dropped this,” he said, tracking your move when you picked the mug up. He averted his eyes when you pursed your lips and put them to the edge of the mug, dragging the palms of his sweaty hands against his sweatpant clad thighs. “Some miracle Colombian tea that’s supposedly good for concussions.”

Your lips stretched into a smile.

“Who knew Javier Peña could be so superstitious?”

Steve blew out a breath of laughter from his nose and shook his head at the thought. You took a careful sip and regarded him from the rim of the mug. He looked exhausted and tense, eyes a little puffy from the lack of sleep and he only made it more evident when he hung his head a little and brought his fingers to press them to his eyes. Like he was trying to rub some life into them.

You knew that gesture, had seen it a million times when you pulled late nights at the office. The embassy had been on your ass lately, and things had taken an insane and intense turn when Search Bloc got thrown into the mix. Carrillo was no joke, but you were all determined.

“Hey, you should get some sleep.” You said gently.

It was late and it had been a long day. You didn’t want to inconvenience him any further than you had.

“It’s fine.” He waved you off. “I’ll just sleep on the couch.”

That made you frown deeper because you knew that couch was a couch from hell. It was springy, and could take your back from feeling amazing to sore in an hour. Your armchair was a little better, but a man as tall and wide as Steve would never find a comfortable position in it.

You knew that realistically, you could’ve sent him on his way and let him sleep in his own bed. That’s probably what you should’ve done considering everything.

What you did instead was probably a bit out of line, but you tried not to think too hard about it when you placed the mug down on the side table and reached back to push the covers back a little.

Steve followed your movements silently and gave you a questioning glance.

“You can sleep here.” You said, a slight shake in your voice.

Steve opened his mouth at that but quickly shut it when he didn’t seem to find the right words. You could see the cogs turning as he regarded you silently, probably wondering exactly how hard you’d hit your head. It wasn’t something you could blame him for. If someone had told you that you’d offer Steve to sleep in your bed with you earlier today, you’d have punched them square in the nose for even bringing such an outrageous imagery to your mind.

Maybe you were tired, maybe it had been a little too long since you’d had another human being in the same bed as yours. Someone who could provide comfort and warmth and make you feel like you weren’t sleeping with one eye open.

“You sure?” He asked gently, just in case you’d managed to change your mind in the span of a few seconds.

Don’t fucking read into it, was what you probably would’ve said if it was the old you. The one who’d fight him on everything.

What you did say, was something you hoped was reassuring enough for him to get into bed and to stop him from looking at you with those fucking blue eyes of his. “I’m sure.”

There was a drawn out silence as he navigated around the bed, gingerly sitting down on the other side and you carefully averted your eyes to avoid his when he laid down beside you. It was clear that he didn’t want to push any boundaries by yanking the bedding over him as well, content with laying on his back and giving you the covers but it felt… wrong. So you covered his legs and sighed like it wasn’t a weird thing to do.

Because it was weird, wasn’t it?

“This is…” Steve trailed off, but you knew he was mirroring your thoughts and you couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you.

He gave a smile of his own when you turned to nod at him.

“It is.” You agreed. “I hope this doesn’t mean you’re going soft on me, Murphy.”

He let out an unattractive snort that made you smile, sinking down into the bed so you were on your back.

“And here I thought we were finally becoming friends.” He turned on his side and gave you a half smile.

You didn’t know why that tilt of his lips jarred you, but it reached deep into your bones and you found yourself unable to look away from his lips.

A sigh escaped your lips and you tugged the covers up a bit more in a poor attempt to eradicate the sudden butterflies in your stomach.

“Friends.” You muttered with a ghost of a smile on your lips. “Is that what we are?”

Steve hummed, causing you to glance at him from the corner of your eye. He looked to be contemplating it and you suddenly wished that you could reach into his mind and pull out every thought that was going through it.

It was a new feeling. Never had you ever felt like even hearing what was going through his head because you didn’t have an interest for it. Whatever you needed to know, you could read it in his body language and in his eyes. The man wore his heart on his sleeve and he probably didn’t know about it. There was so much you could get just by observing him.

“I’d say we’re on the right track.” He finally replied. “We’re not fighting, haven’t been for the last… Six hours.”

That got a startled laugh out of you and it seemed to please Steve because he grinned as he settled back in bed again, eyes up on the ceiling.

It was outrageous, but true. The two of you could hardly go an hour without arguing. Javier had once pointed out that it wasn’t malice but rather sexual tension and you’d punched his arm so hard that he’d yelped. He never brought it up again.

The thought of it being sexual attraction rather than anything else between you made you panic a little.

“I’m sorry.” Steve said, breaking the comfortable silence and that caused you to turn your head to look at him.

He mirrored your movement.

“For what?” You asked, genuinely confused.

“For being a dick.” He squinted his eyes in the dim light, like he was struggling to find the exact words he wanted to say. “I haven’t gone easy on you, from the moment we met until today. And you were being nothing but nice to me that first day.”

You had been. Polite rather. But Steve hadn’t given you the time of day and you weren’t perfect; You held grudges and could be kind of petty when there was no need. With Steve and his short temper, and your own issues? It was only natural for the two of you to clash.

“I haven’t been nice either, you know.” You pointed out and Steve placed an elbow on the mattress and rested his head on the open palm of his hand.

“I guess we both have been pretty shit.” He said and you nodded, because yeah. You had been. “I think you intimidate me.”

That got a laugh out of you. The thought of Steve Murphy being intimidated of you was so absurd. But the man wasn’t looking like he was kidding and you raised your brows.

“You’re kidding.” You smiled. “Why would you be intimidated by me?”

“Because.” He said like it was obvious, huffing out a laugh when you frowned; Feeling completely lost. “Fucking look at you. You came walking in with your head held high and you’re headstrong, ready for anything and anyone. There’s not a single soul in that office who’d dream of going against you.”

You groaned in disbelief, bringing your hands up to cover your face because you were starting to feel warm all of a sudden. Receiving so many compliments from the same man who’d given you nothing but grief the past year was overwhelming.

“No, really.” He insisted. “You’re so confident in everything you do. And you’re gorgeous and so fucking stubborn.”

That had you separating your fingers over your face, just enough to look at him through the gaps. Gorgeous? Surely you were dreaming. This wasn’t real.

But he was looking at you like he meant every word he had said and you weren’t sure how to feel. It made it all so confusing and odd, but it also made a warmth settle in the pit of your stomach; A feeling you hadn’t felt in years. It was simultaneously both terrifying and thrilling.

“Thank you.” You said softly, muffled into your hands and that had Steve smiling from where you could see him.

“You need to stop thanking me or it’ll get to my head.” He joked, probably to break the forming tension and you felt a pang of gratitude at that gesture.

“We wouldn’t want that.” You said, ignoring the small hitch in your voice when he reached out with his free hand to pry your hands off your face. He didn’t let go, stretching one hand out between you two and sliding his fingers between yours in a strangely intimate manner. “Your head is already too big. Won’t fit through the door.”

He laughed and it prompted a giggle out of you.

The conversation that took place for the next hour was gentle, intimate and it felt so natural that you never wanted it to stop. You talked about the little things that you probably would’ve known about each other way earlier if you’d skipped the animosity and became friends instead. Your respective families back home, your childhood, hobbies and everything in between.

It still felt strange but it also made you see him in an entirely new light. He looked relaxed and even happy, eyes tired from the long day and late night, hand still playing idly with your fingers where it laid between you. It was… pillow talk, minus the sex.

Your conversation drifted to a stop when your eyes were starting to droop, yawns interrupting your sentences until Steve eventually took pity. He scooted closer to you and you regarded him silently, wondering what he was about to do. There was a slight disappointment settling in your chest when you realised that he was, in fact, reaching for the lamp on your side of the bed and not reaching to kiss you.

It was an odd thought to have, but you would be a liar if you said that you hadn’t thought of it through the night.

Him reaching for the lamp put him in close proximity of you though, and a zip of heat shot down your spine when you realised that he’d reached over you and put himself half on top of you in the process.

You blinked up at his face, close to yours, feeling rather awake all of a sudden and you only had a few seconds to take in every little fleck and scar on his face, the blue of his eyes, before he turned the light off and plunged the room into relative darkness.

The moon was providing enough light through your small window for you to make out the shape of his face, and your lips parted of their own volition when his eyes suddenly flicked down and looked right at you. He’d finally realised the position he’d put you both in, a breath away from each others faces and torsos awkwardly pressed together and you watched his eyes flick from one of your own eyes to the other.

You tried to suck in a breath, not even realising that you had been holding it in, but it was stolen right out of you when Steve suddenly closed the minimal distance between the two of you.

The press of his lips was soft, but you felt it all the way down to your toes. It took you by surprise, but you collected your thoughts and pulled yourself together quickly enough to reach up with your hand to grab at his hair when you felt like he was about to pull away at your lack of reaction.

It was like that one movement of your hands was the trigger, because he fell into you and pried your lips open with his; A breathy moan being exhaled into your mouth and you gasped at the hotness of it.

He kissed you until you felt like your lips were starting to chap, pulling away to catch his breath and allowing you to catch yours. Your head was spinning, the intensity of it all surprising but not unwelcome.

You brought a hand around to span over his jaw and neck, thumb stroking the plump bottom lip of his.

“You okay?” You asked, a little breathless.

The question seemed to catch him off guard, and he pulled back his head far enough to look you in the eyes. As if he was searching for the answer in them.

“Yeah,” he nodded slightly, running his fingers through the strands at the top of your head. The feel of it made you shiver slightly. “Are you?”

You nodded mutely, beckoning him closer by the use of your hands and you couldn’t help but notice how easily he fell into you without hesitation. It made you smile against his lips, your hands drifting lower to his back and grabbing at the material of his shirt. The sound he made against your mouth had you clutching desperately at him, seeking out his hand to guide it under your sleep shirt.

“Oh fuck,” he cursed quietly when his palm closed over the flesh of your breast. He squeezed until you moaned, arching your back into his hand. “You’re gonna be the death of me, sweetheart.”

You let out a breathy laugh, pulling back long enough to look at him but that didn’t last long, eyes fluttering shut of their own volition when his thumb brushed over your perky nipple.

“Oh, Steve.” You whimpered and it was like music to his ears.

That one small sound out of your mouth paired with his name had him going lightheaded in a second, all the blood rushing south and he had to remind himself that it couldn’t go further than this. Not tonight at least. You were still recovering from your concussion and he didn’t want to push it.

So, he mustered up all the strength in his body to pull himself up, heart squeezing in his chest when your lips followed him. Like you weren't ready to let him go, and you really weren't.

“You need sleep, sweetheart.” He said gently, hoping that you wouldn’t take it as rejection.

You pouted at him, aware that you probably looked a bit childish doing it but you couldn’t help it. He stroked the pad of his thumb over your cheek softly and you sighed, nodding in understanding.

“I know.” You agreed finally, heart nudging up your throat when he leaned down to press a kiss to your mouth.

Steve laid back down, but he was closer than before and it made something warm settle in your chest. He didn’t protest when you rolled over to cuddle into his side, preening a little at the comfort of his chest and the feel of his arm around you.

It was the safest you’d felt since you moved here.

And that’s probably why you fell into oblivious sleep faster than you ever had.

Monday rolled around and that meant real life was back in order, forcing you out of your little bubble of bliss you’d managed to create during the weekend with Steve. He’d been oddly domestic and sweet, not pushing for anything and settling with the odd kiss here and there as he made you dinner and ran you baths. He’d remain respectful through those too, opting to sit on the tiled floor and very pointedly not look at your naked body as the two of you carried pleasant conversations and gentle kisses.

Javier stopped by on both Saturday and Sunday, both times when Steve had gone out to get food or a change of clothes. It was weirdly lucky timing, but you were happy to avoid the inevitable questions that would surely come along with Javier and his undying curiosity.

The office was just as you’d left it on Friday, everyone bustling around and working as they always did. Carrillo wasn’t in his office from what you could see as you walked past, but your two partners were sitting by their desks as you approached them.

Both of them glanced up, but only one of them spoke up.

“Hey, welcome back.” Javier gave you a nod.

“Thanks,” you dropped your bag under your desk and draped your jacket over your chair, trying very hard to remain natural. “Busy morning?”

You glanced around.

“Nah,” Javi grunted. “Should’ve just stayed home for another day.”

That made you break your resolve, stealing a glance at Steve who’d been sitting quietly on the other side of the desk. He was looking at you and you both shared a glance before you made a little noise in your throat and looked away.

“One more day at home and I’d go stir crazy.” You said, like you hadn’t been spending it with the very same man who everyone thought you loathed.

“Sure.” Javier murmured lowly, absentmindedly. His eyes were locked on a piece of paper in his hands and you took that as your chance to get out of the conversation.

You turned and started walking toward the small kitchenette where they kept the good coffee machines, suddenly craving caffeine because something told you that it was gonna be a long day. You revelled in the silence of the empty room when you walked in, hunting down a clean mug and locating the coffee beans.

The hum of your colleagues out in the office was a comforting sound, tapping your nails against the counter and watching the machine work to spit out piping hot coffee into your mug.

You had exactly two seconds to react to the hand that grabbed your waist, heart rate spiking dangerously before the familiar scent of cologne hit your nose. It was curious, how much that one detail calmed you down from your fight or flight response.

“Jesus, Steve.” You hissed out quietly, turning in his arms when he placed both hands on either side of you on the counter; Effectively caging you in. “Way to give me a heart attack.”

The man leaned closer to your face and smiled, nuzzling his nose against your cheek before pressing a kiss against the skin there. You bit back a smile.

“I like it when you call me Steve.” He said, voice low and intimate.

You brought both your hands up and placed them on his pecs, feeling the hard muscle beneath the layers of clothing he wore. It was probably your imagination or even wishful thinking, but you swore you could almost feel his heartbeat picking up speed.

“That’s your name, idiot.” You laughed, not meanly because there was a fondness to your smile that Steve had come to know and adore.

He pressed forward, brushing his lips against yours in a teasing manner until you had enough of it, chasing his lips when he pulled away with a laugh.

“Greedy.”

“Shut up.” You whispered, tilting your head and slotting your mouth against his.

The kiss definitely wasn’t the most passionate one out of all the ones you’d shared during the weekend. But it still made your knees weak all the same, heat pricking your scalp when he pushed forward and put the majority of his weight on you. The hard plane of his body made you feel feverish, and you let out a small moan into his mouth that made Steve’s skin pimple in goosebumps.

A distinct ringing of a telephone reminded you of where you were and you gently pushed him off, glancing over his shoulder and sighing in relief when you noted that you were still the only people in the room.

Steve wasn’t even looking, too busy taking in the plumpness of your lips and he had to stop himself from puffing his chest in pride at the sight of your smeared lipstick.

He brought a thumb up to clean it off and you blinked at him, feeling your insides go soft at the small gesture.

“You want some coffee?” You asked softly, turning in his arms and he pushed off the counter to stand beside you instead.

No, just you. But he didn’t say that, pushing his mug forward a bit on the counter instead.

He watched you pour the coffee into both mugs, studying your side profile quietly as you prepared the coffee. You looked adorable, and his fingers itched to grab at every part of you. But he knew that he had to contain himself. There was no way that he’d ever break the one rule you’d decided to set.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

"Can we keep this on the downlow?" You'd asked on Sunday morning, hands crossed over each other where they laid on his chest, chin resting on them.

It had been quiet, serene and Steve had gotten only a little distracted by your lips and the way the light seemed to catch perfectly in your eyes. You'd looked downright angelic and it was only when your lips tugged in a small and shy smile that he realised you'd asked him a question.

"Sure." He'd agreed easily, letting the palms of his hands stroke up the sides of your body, as if he was trying to memorise every curve of your body.

"It's just that..." You trailed off, adjusting yourself where you laid between the long expanse of his legs. "I don't want people to talk, you know?"

He knew exactly what you meant. You'd worked hard to be where you were and there was no doubt that you'd start to get treated differently if they found out about the two of you. He respected you too much to do anything but agree with your boundaries.

"Hey," he murmured gently, bringing a hand up to smooth down your hair. "I'll do whatever you want me to."

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Steve snapped out of his little daydream when you suddenly turned and gave him an award winning smile and he had time to think of how fucking lucky he was to see that directed at him, before you leaned up to press a kiss to his lips. You wiped your thumb across his lip, most likely a poor attempt to wipe the evidence off him, and walked out with your coffee.

He collected his scattered thoughts, blinking down at his mug and he was surprised to find that you’d taken the time to make him his coffee exactly how he liked it. Fuck.

“Hey, Javi.” He heard you greet the man sweetly who’d most likely stepped into the kitchenette, hearing him grunt in response.

Steve had managed to collect himself when Javier appeared in his field of view, pouring hot coffee into his mug casually and shooting the blond man a strange look.

“What?” Steve asked defensively.

Javier looked to be biting back a smile, looking a little bit too smug for Steve’s hackles not to rise.

“Nice lipstick.” Javier complimented him. “What shade is that?”

[naomihatake]

In search of freedom (Ch. 6)

6. Where are you when I need you the most?

⠀⠀➺ fic masterlist

⠀⠀➺ Chapter 5 ; Chapter 6 ; Chapter 7

⠀⠀⠀⠀She's been searching for freedom her entire life and everytime she thought it was laying right in front of her eyes, she was mistaken. She was running around the East Blue, seeking herself and her dreams, meeting people she never forgot. No matter how much she traveled, she could only catch a glimpse of peace before realizing everything would crumble at her feet.

⠀⠀⠀⠀Maybe it was destiny that brought her on that ship with three strangers — foolishly, that's what she tried to believe when the moon shined beautifully and hope settled in her chest, squeezed by the same ribcage where feelings were blooming.

Pairing: female!reader x OPLA Zoro Roronoa

Warnings for this chapter: angst, graphic depictions of deaths and fatal wounds, vomiting, self-harm, brief suicidal mention, canon-typical violence. (proceed with caution since it's getting a tiny bit gore)

Word count: 9,1 k (I'm proud of myself tbh)

Theme song: fic spotify playlist (click on the link)

A/N: I'm sorry for appearing with a new chapter 9 days later and I hope the wait was worth it. I dropped more details about the Witch's past in this chapter and some interesting interactions with her other crewmates. The next week I'm free, which means there's a chance I might most two charters until next Sunday <3.

I'm always open for opinions and comments. Whatever you want to tell me, just do it, even all you feel like doing is leaving a heart in my comments or inbox. Every interaction is appreciated and thank you so much for sticking to this story till now <3

The reader is referred to as "Witch" because I have no intentions of using "Y/N".

A warm palm touched her shoulder and squeezed reassuringly, but with no effect. The witch turned her head towards Luffy, her glassy eyes betraying her. It made their captain frown with worry. The sound of her real name slipping from between his lips stung worse than expected. 

"It'll be alright," he smiled. "Zoro is a strong swordsman."

With horror painting her features, she shook her head and placed her shaking hand over his, gripping gently. 

"You don't get it, Luffy, do you?" her voice came out like a whisper. "It's not just any dwell and that man isn't just any swordsman. I've seen plenty of people dying in front of my eyes, the crew I used to be part of, they didn't hold a chance against—"

She sank her teeth in her lower lip and looked up, blinking away the tears. Her breath was shaking and the grip on Luffy's hand got tighter. Slowly, she inhaled deeply, body trembling as her lungs swallowed the morning cold breeze. 

Both Usopp and Luffy were frowning, listening intently to her words. 

"This won't end well," she concluded. "He willingly got himself in danger. Zoro is nothing but some prey for Mihawk."

Luffy's sympathetic gaze didn't help her, it didn't ease her worries as he hoped. Her panic was fed by each single thought passing through her head, by each memory making a nest in the present. 

"I've met one single Warlord in my entire life and he destroyed half of the strongest crew I ever knew at that time. I know who they are, I know their tactics, I know they're not to play with."

Both of her hands were clasped around Luffy's shoulder, turbulent eyes meeting his. The tips of her nails dug lightly in his skin, but he didn't wince or move. 

"Yes, we are strong, but still not strong enough for them," the witch intentionally lowered her voice so it wouldn't crack into sobs. "Please tell me you know I didn't argue with him because I like to. Please tell me you get what I mean, Luffy. I'm scared."

She was barely aware of her admission, but it was hard to hold back. The witch wasn't a scaredy-cat, she didn't run away, pride filled her being all too well to ever lose a battle, be it against herself or others. That time, however, she was scared out of her mind for the swordsman. 

Luffy gave her the sweetest smile she's seen in ages and squeezed her shoulder again. "He will be alright." 

She let her head tilt forward, hands falling back to her sides. His faith was greater than her fears, but he couldn't erase the panic settling in her bones. 

"You have no clue how much I wish you were right." 

It hurt. Her chest hurt and something was crawling up her throat, differently than back in Syrup Village. It made her feel nauseous, it bubbled in her stomach and gripped at her neck, it constricted her lungs and air punctured their tissue. 

Zoro just walked out of the galley exactly when the sun could be barely seen rising up from the waters. The bandana was wrapped around his head and his earrings chimed like a melody, making her head turn towards him. 

The same horrified gaze from hours ago was stuck on him and yet he chose to ignore her, passing by without even casting a glance. 

She stood there when Usopp, Luffy and Zoro walked by, her back turned to them. The witch had to collect the pieces of her broken heart before daring to glance at a list fight on the swordsman's side. Mihawk was already waiting for them right in front of the restaurant. 

She couldn't watch another dear person die. Not again. 

Her fingers dug painfully into her palms, until her nails left crescent marks on the skin, until it hurt so badly the tears in her eyes couldn't fall. Their synchronized steps beat like drums, just like her heart. 

Everything was blurred out. She didn't dare look until she heard swords clashing. Like a snap, her head turned. 

Mihawk stopped Zoro's attack with one small knife. 

He had no chance against the warlord, just like she guessed. 

No, she thought. I can't be pessimistic now. Maybe at least he'll get out alive—

But pirates don't just let their dwell partners live, the other side of her conscience commented. 

Each one of Zoro's attacks were either stopped or dodged so easily by Mihawk, who seemed like he was playing rather than fighting. He was so light on his feet, body moving like a feather between Zoro's blades. 

The warlord sent her green-haired crewmate flying back with a mere push of his knife when he blocked yet another one of his attacks. When Zoro got back to his feet and rushed towards him, Mihawk continued dodging each one of his attacks. 

The witch could only hear a muffled conversation from a distance. She didn't even notice when Nami passed by her until she saw orange strands of hair bouncing in her vision. 

The navigator didn't come from the restaurant, as she should've since she searched for a drink — or that's what she said. She walked from the other side of the dock. Her hands trembled by her side and she walked slowly, fearfully, her body so stiff, until she stopped behind Luffy. 

The witch focused for so long on Nami, her gaze fell on Zoro only when the right side of his chest was penetrated by Mihawk's knife. 

Air got stuck in her throat and time stopped in its tracks. Her feet were stuck right where they were and she couldn't move an inch. 

Zoro, his name lingered in her thoughts, the sound of it along with the sweet chiming of his golden earrings. 

Time stretched like an elastic. Seconds passed by at an agonizingly slow pace, as if the Universe itself decided to torture her with that image. 

Swords. Corpses. Blood. Fear. 

The witch let out a shaky breath while she trembled like a leaf in the breeze. 

Zoro made a step back, the knife slipping away from his flesh. With a few other steps, he fell to his knees, with his swords digging into the wooden battens to keep himself steady. 

Mihawk curled his fingers around the hilt of the sword on his back. 

It seemed like he decided to end it all right then and there. 

The witch didn't know if it was her imagination when Zoro seemed to glance towards her for a brief moment. All she knew was that her heart sank into her stomach and she could hear the audible cracks of her soul. The green-haired man took his white sword, placing it in between his teeth. 

His gaze moved back to Mihawk so quickly she could barely register it. Her stomach turned upside down and her chest tightened when she saw Zoro rotating his other two swords faster than the brain was able to comprehend. 

Mihawk and Zoro jumped into the attack at the same time. She didn't know if their swords collided or not. 

Zoro fell to his knees again, panting. The swords in his hands crumbled into pieces all the way to the hilt, right in the middle of the runes the witch drew hours ago on the blades. His Wado Ichimoji fell from between his teeth. 

He didn't stop there. Of course that fucking idiot didn't stop. He used the white sword to get up, resting his weight into it until he finally stood straight again, turning to Mihawk. Carefully, he sheathed his Wado Ichimoji. 

With his arms held in the air and hands curled into fists, Zoro didn't let go of his word as he proudly admitted:

"Wounds on the back are a swordsman's greatest shame."

The warlord said one word the witch didn't hear and then, with a swift motion, his sword cut deeply through Zoro's chest. 

The green-haired man fell on his back, eliciting a shout of his name from Luffy. 

Zoro. 

His name was all the witch could hear while she rushed to his side, tears blurring her vision, tears she couldn't afford to show. 

Just like he did a few moments ago, the witch got to her knees, eyes focused on the t-shirt getting soaked in Zoro's blood. 

"Fucking dammit," she spoke in a hoarse voice, hands trembling. 

He was bleeding heavily, the dark blue nuance of his shirt replaced by dark crimson. The wound started from under his left clavicle and curved through his chest, all the way to the right side of his ribs. Without a second thought, the witch took off her unbuttoned shirt and folded it, just to press the material on his large wound. 

"Monkey D. Luffy," Mihawk said. "what's your goal?" 

"I'm going to become the King of the Pirates," Luffy responded through gritted teeth. 

The witch's burning gaze raised to the warlord who stood tall meters away, putting his sword back in place on his back. Her fingers ached to touch her revolvers and shoot holes through that man until she's satisfied, until the monster lurking in the depths of her soul had its blood thirst quenched. However, her hands remained pressed against her shirt, trying her best to stop Zoro's bleeding. 

She's always been revengeful when people dear to her heart were harmed. Revenge she never denied, a trait of hers she's accepted long ago. 

"That's a much more treacherous path than even defeating me. This world could use a few more wild cards."

"Go fuck yourself," the witch let out with wrath burning in her eyes. 

She clenched her jaw and her eyebrows knitted together into a deep frown. Anger filled each corner of her being, blinding her almost all the way up, filling her to the brim. 

One more drop and she would lash out. 

Zoro's safety was more important than her rage and she was completely aware of that. The wounded swordsman was the only reason why she stood still by his side. 

"It's too soon for him to die," and with that, Mihawk's gaze fell back on the green-haired man. "Roronoa Zoro, grow strong and come find me. I'll be waiting."

Fucker, the witch's thought wasn't voiced out that time while the warlord walked away. 

"Luffy," Zoro spoke in such a soft voice. 

The witch and Luffy immediately looked back at him. He was struggling to breathe properly, that mere motion probably making his entire body ache painfully. 

"If I fail to become the world's greatest swordsman," he faintly spoke, barely able to open up his eyes. After some greedy gulps of air, he continued: "you'll be disappointed. Right?" 

With a shaky breath, Luffy smiled at him as tears gathered in his eyes. 

"You could never fail me." 

The witch could feel her body shake when she realized the swordsman's life was hanging on a thread. 

"Never again. From now… until I beat him," Zoro continued talking in between panting. 

The witch wished she could tell him something, anything, but all she could do was continue pressing her shirt over his wound. Looking at him in that state made her heart squeeze in the cage made of ribs, wishing she could be in his place and take his pain away. 

With trembling hands, he somehow managed to draw his Wado Ichimoji out of its scabbard, holding it up as he looked up at the blue sky. 

"To become the greatest swordsman… I will never lose again!" he let out with a shaky breath, voice scratching at the witch's eardrums. 

One of her hands curled around his shoulder and squeezed firmly, intending to bring his attention to her only for a second. 

"I'm sorry about what I said, alright?" she gulped down hard, her voice cracking. "You need to live, yeah? I know you'll become the greatest. I'm sorry, Zoro, I'm sorry." 

She was sorry for lashing out at him. If they were to part ways in that moment, then she'd rather make sure he never believed she was mad at him, that she didn't hate him even for a second. It was a feeling her heart wasn't capable of harboring towards him — never him. She would've ripped her ribcage open and given him her heart if she could. 

The witch could only hope his tired and pained self heard her words, even as his eyes closed immediately after his arm dropped to his side along with the sword. 

"You better stay alive," she whispered while looking down at him. 

Her words became muffled from his perspective. All he heard was his name being spoken multiple times by Luffy and Usopp. 

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•

The witch has been sitting on the floor of her shared room with Nami for a while now, ever since the navigator started reading. Zoro laid unconsciously on her bed, bandages wrapped around his torso. For a long time, she didn't even dare look at him. 

She will be eternally grateful for Zeff's help — the chef cook of Baratie who snitched Zoro up and told them to do whatever was necessary to keep him alive, be it telling stories or singing sea shanties. 

Despite the fact that Zoro's wound wasn't bleeding anymore, her heart still screamed at her. 

With knees pulled up to her chest and her forehead resting in between them, she wrapped her arms around her stomach, subconsciously protecting herself from God-knows-what. She couldn't sleep either, despite listening to Nami's alluring voice as she read from a book. 

The bandage on her upper arm was worn out and it's been longer than a day since Zoro wrapped it. It was dirty with blood from the time when she intentionally squeezed it before sobs could leave her lips. 

Nami stopped reading, but the witch didn't register the lack of sounds surrounding her until she heard a voice. She didn't bother to raise her head, keeping her eyes closed as she responded:

"Can you say that again? Sorry, I wasn't paying attention." 

"Pull yourself together," Nami whispered. 

The witch knew that if she'd look up, she'd see a scolding or maybe a worried pair of blue eyes staring at her. 

"I will when the situation asks for it," plainly, she dismissed the navigator. "Until then, I couldn't give less of a fuck."

She was aware of her position, of how small she looked, curled like a ball against the wall, hugging herself and praying to every God she knew that the swordsman would wake up. It was pathetic, but there was no wiser way to hide her overwhelming pain. Wrapping around herself sounded like the most helpful option. 

"There are a few things you two should talk about when he wakes up," Nami closed the book with a small thud. 

"I'd tell anyone anything if I knew he'd wake up," this time, her voice trembled lightly. 

The witch swallowed the lump in her throat that's been sitting there uncomfortably for hours, with no positive effect. The only way to even her breathing was by holding the air in her lungs for a few seconds and letting it all go with a long exhale. 

"Nami."

Only then, the witch raised her head. She looked deplorable, with disheveled hair and sunken eyes, dark circles under them from the lack of sleep. Her chapped lips were red because she ripped the skin off with her nails again. There was no sign of life on her face. 

Obviously, she's had better days. Everyone did, probably. 

"Maybe it's because I'm sorrow-drunk and can't bring myself to hide it anymore, but I have to tell you something."

She's been debating on whether or not she shall tell Nami about her suspicions ever since she pulled out those two cards out of the tarot deck. 

"I know you're hiding something, but you can't hide it from me."

The truth has been spoken. With her heart beating loudly in her eardrums and threatening to break her ribs, she continued. 

"I know. You're planning betrayal."

The navigator's eyes widened as panic flooded in her soul. The orange haired woman had no clue where all this came from, didn't know how fuck she found out about that, when and why—

"I didn't tell anyone."

"Aren't you getting ahead of yourself?" came out Nami's sharp response. 

"I never expected you to admit it, if I am to be honest."

The witch rubbed her palms over her face and sighed heavily, as if a weight was pressed on top of her body. 

"I also know there's more to the story. I don't know what or who you're protecting yourself from, I have no clue exactly why you're doing all this, but there's one thing I know for sure: the world is sitting on your shoulders, yet you refuse letting us help you carry it."

Nami stiffened in her chair. Her back straightened and her empty gaze pushed the witch out of her thoughts. 

"Are you jumping to conclusions because of some stupid cards?"

"They definitely know more than me."

"Did you read you should treat your paranoia in there too?"

"While I admit there are times when I have crippling anxiety," the witch calmly stated, "I'm one hundred percent sure this isn't just a fairy tale. It's your choice to tell me or continue to keep it for yourself."

"But?" her voice lowered dangerously close to snapping. 

"But we're not your enemies, Nami, and you know that well."

Not an answer the navigator expected, definitely. 

"Zoro is unconscious on the bed and you're talking in metaphors — have you all gotten insane on this ship?" 

"If I did, it was long before stepping on The Going Merry," the witch let out a stiffled laugh. 

She dropped her forehead on her knees again, squeezing herself tighter in the embrace. The witch wasn't any less panicked than Nami, since opening up such a discussion scared her deeply. It was better than hiding and lying, though, and it felt less guilty. 

"Why did you tell me this?" Nami asked with a whisper. "Be it right or wrong, why would you?" 

"You don't deserve to be lied to, Nami. It makes me feel bad — hiding this from you made me feel like garbage from the start."

Even then, a gram of her guilt vanished. 

"You're weirdly honest. You're aware this will haunt you one day, aren't you?" 

"It's been haunting me since I got born," a sour smile painted the witch's face. 

"The devil must've put some kind of curse on you." 

"I only believe in evil spirits, sorry."

She didn't know where that soft laugh came from. Maybe it was her way of copying with the anxiety, with the pain. All she knew was that she hoped Nami wouldn't hide from them forever. 

"Is there anything else you want to accuse me of?"

Faster than Usopp's snapping, Nami was once again serious, and the witch didn't have to look at her to figure it out. 

"I never accused you. I know I'm right, but I'm not aware of the entire truth. You, on the other side, are aware of your own reality and I believe in your judgment. I hope you'll make the wisest decision and I'm saying this from the bottom of my heart." 

"That's rich coming from someone so suspicious."

She's always been that way, the witch had to admit it. It wasn't only anxiety or tarot readings, there were times when she was straight up acting and thinking like a paranoid and it was cutting years off her life. Worrying and thinking over and over again, being hyper aware of everyone's actions, including her own. 

Nami resumed her reading, her voice strained this time, as if she forced herself to talk out loud. Each syllable sounded rougher than the other, but that didn't stop the navigator from telling that story. 

The witch wasn't paying attention, instead focusing on the moments spent with all of them, just like last night, when they were all eating and teasing each other. She needed to talk to Zoro, to tell him again that she's sorry. 

Maybe he didn't hear me clearly before he fell unconscious, she wondered. She moved one of her arms and curled her fingers around the wound on her bicep. It stung good. If it could stop the stream of tears threatening to fall, then it was good, no matter how much it hurt, how the pain sunk deep into her bones, making her flinch. 

There was something she wanted to clear out with Nami, but before the witch could speak, approaching steps made her mouth close shut. The presence felt light once her senses registered it, like a sparkling piece of hope — Luffy. She remained like a statue, breathing so slowly it was barely obvious she was still alive. 

"Why did the king have to kill him?" he asked innocently. 

He was referring to Nami's telling. 

Without even having to glance up at him, the witch knew he was feeling unwell. There was no light in his voice and he sounded unsure of himself, so disoriented. 

"Sometimes, when you are in charge, you have to make the tough decisions," she muttered between gritted teeth. 

The witch knew where this conversation was heading. 

"Why does everybody keep saying that?" 

Luffy's voice desperately tried to reach out to the orange-haired woman.

Judging from the creaking of the chair, Nami got up from her seat as she spoke:

"Because you could've saved Zoro. He didn't have to fight Mihawk, but you let it happen. "

A few seconds of silence filled the room with thick tension. 

"Look at her," Nami pointed with her chin towards the witch. "It looks like if he goes, she goes too. If one of us crumbles, everyone does. Look at us, at how we're handling it, at how Zoro does or, better said, how he doesn't handle it."

The witch couldn't understand why she was suddenly part of their conversation or why Nami took her side and tried to protect her from some unknown entity.  Probably, she really looked worse than she thought. A sense of relief patched up one of the countless wounds under her skin when she figured out the navigator said all those things because she cared.

At the very same time, she knew Nami's words must've made Luffy suffer greatly, pushing her to raise her head and give her friends her entire attention.

"Nami," the witch intervened gently. 

"You're in no place to talk," she cut her off quickly, her eyes like turbulent seas. "We're all a mess and it's all because of his stupid decision. But he could've been stopped," Nami turned her head to Luffy again. 

"Nami, stop it," the witch furrowed her eyebrows. "Fighting will do no good. We've argued enough last night, there's no need for that anymore."

Nami was panicked and stressed out of her mind as well. Everything gave her away: the trembling hands, the shaking voice, tone close to breaking in a million pieces with each word, even the tears that gathered in her eyes. However, no drop rolled down her cheek. 

"Tell me, Luffy," Nami vehemently continued with a tensed expression. "Would you see him like this? He might die."

Stop saying that, please, the witch thought as she took in another breath. He knows. Everyone knows. Please, stop saying he'll die because I might believe it too. I want to believe in him, not in whatever life changing lesson the universe gave me. 

"And I'd do anything to save him," Luffy whispered with a tender smile on his face. 

Me too. I'd rip my heart out of my chest and give it to him. I'd rip off my flesh and put it on his wounds. I'd die if I knew my life would be given to him. 

"Anything," Luffy continued. "Except stand in the way of his dream." 

God fucking dammit. 

"We all have dreams, but we outgrow them," Nami clenched her teeth after she spoke. 

"Is that really what you think?" Luffy's smile held so much hope. "Don't you have a dream?" 

"Yeah. Right now, is for Zoro to not die in my bed," the navigator let out in a strangled voice. 

"Isn't there something that you want? Something more," the straw hat whispered. "More than anything else in this world."

When the witch looked at Nami, it was obvious she was on the verge of tearing up, her nostrils flaring. Her eyes were already bloodshot. 

"Not everyone gets to follow their dreams."

Nami didn't wait for any of them to respond before she walked out of the room. The witch got to her feet and tried to catch the navigator's hand in hers, but she wasn't fast enough. All she could do was glance at Luffy and place both of her palms on his shoulders, just like he did at the crack of dawn. 

He looked at the witch with a hopeful and equally worried gaze. 

"I know you meant the best when you encouraged him to follow his dream, Luffy," the witch squeezed his shoulders. "It's alright. Nami knows that as well. She's worried, like all of us. We all said hurtful things to each other lately."

His lips trembled when he attempted to say something, but he didn't dare to anymore. Instead, he searched for reassurance. 

Was he in the wrong? Did Zoro get hurt because of him?

"It's not your fault," the witch continued with a tiny smile on her face. "I promise you. Everything led up to this. It couldn't have been avoided, unfortunately. No one could've stopped Zoro — you know he's a stubborn asshole."

Luffy scoffed. 

"You know I'm right."

"I do," the straw hat nodded shily. "I think…" he gulped down, looking at his feet. "Maybe I can clean his sword for when he'll wake up."

"I'm sure he would be grateful about it. I'll stay here a bit longer."

She didn't let go of Luffy's shoulders until he moved away. Just to ease her concern, he smiled faintly at her before leaving the room. 

Looking down at the unconscious pirate hunter, the witch couldn't believe her eyes. She gulped, not even daring to grasp at his hand, scared he'd break even because of a feather-like touch. She took in a deep breath and closed her eyes for a few seconds, opening them again only to see the same man in the exact same position. 

She was scared for him, for his life. She didn't want to be a nuisance and stop him from doing what he believed would bring him happiness. Or maybe that word was too much — but winning against Dracule Mihawk would've made him proud, it would've fulfilled a promise he made to someone long ago. She didn't know who was at the other end of the promise, but he seemed to be a man of his word, so trying to stop him turned her into a selfish person. 

Her eyes were locked on his face, brushing with the back of her hand some small droplets of sweat on his forehead. She was worried out of her mind, now regretting she didn't do more to stop him, to make him change his mind when he was maybe too drunk to think twice. 

"Be careful, Zoro," the witch told him back then, her gaze betraying the worry crippling through her entire being. 

She was right. He should've been more careful. He should've been less reckless, should've listened to Nami and her, even if Luffy encouraged him to chase his dream. Was it really worth it? 

Once again, she sighed. She was selfish, greedy, it was wrong to think that his dream wasn't worth the entire world. Heck, even she would do anything for him, just to see him open his eyes again, just to hear another bored or witty remark coming from between his lips.

Instead, he was silent and still, only the slow movement of his chest visible as he breathed. It was the only thing that managed to bring her an ounce of comfort.

At least he was alive, she continued telling herself. 

It was clawing at her heart, messing with it, her thoughts roaming around, jumping one on top of another. She was overthinking again, the worst habit she could've had — or that's what she silently believed for years. 

The witch should've fought with him to death back then, when he was stubborn enough to throw Nami's words at her while they argued. Maybe it would've made him change his mind. As she continued looking at him, she worthlessly tried to take some of the blame for what happened. 

Hidden under his bandages, the same wound made the woman standing by his side believe she saw the Death Reaper, even if he was the one unconscious on a bed. 

Carefully, she sat down next to him, without taking her eyes off of him even for a moment. 

"You're kind of worrying us all, y'know? Luffy is in denial of your possible death and Nami seems restless. Usopp is too silent for his usual self," she whispered. 

Her first instinct was to touch him, but her fingertips hovered above his hand. She didn't know if it would've been right to seek the warmth of his skin while he wasn't even awake. All the witch could do was hope that deep down in his soul, he felt and heard all of them. 

"I'm worried too. No. Worried is an understatement. I'm terrified," the words trembled as they left her lips, the same chopped lips she sank her teeth into. "I'd rather have you call me an idiot," she chuckled sourly. 

With slow and careful gestures, she gathered enough courage to caress his hand with her fingers, feeling small cuts here and there. He was still warm, which eased a few of her worries. 

She made a long pause, staring at the seemingly lifeless man she would give her life for.  

"Remember when we drank together on the deck, two nights ago?" 

A fragile smile appeared on her face at the reminder of that night. She stole the last drop of his bottle before he could finish it with a grin, playfully nudging at his ribs. He failed to threaten her about how she owes him something for that. He was handling his liquor better than her and yet, he couldn't hide his smirk or the sparkle in his eyes. 

That night, bottles later, the witch got dizzy and tipsy. At first, she almost fell into a sea of melancholy after she shared pieces of her with Zoro. She doesn't remember how, but he got her laughing way too easy with his remarks and some silly stories. 

"You're flushed already," he pointed out back then. 

"You're kinda rosy in the cheeks as well, swordsman." 

At that time she damned the alcohol for the soft gaze she had when she looked at him. Her eyes were sparkling with adoration when they danced on his face, peace sinking in her very bones in his presence. She shouldn't have drank. It was so obvious that she had a soft spot for him, that he had a special place in her heart not even a month after they met. 

And who was at fault for her drunken state that night? Roronoa Zoro, obviously. He was at fault when she giggled and talked too much about too many things at once, so much more passion in her words than usual — was that even possible? he thought to himself. She always had a light and warm way of talking, her voice many times giving away her feelings. 

A promise was a promise, even if she didn't wholeheartedly accept it from the beginning. She surrendered quickly and told him that yes, she owes him something, maybe a secret. 

The witch remembered everything the next day, but acted like her memory had faded. The realization hit her hard the next morning, when she figured out her irrational fear of sharing secrets. She shouldn't have made that promise, so she played dumb, as if the conversation they had was forgotten about. 

"Maybe it's not exactly a secret, but I like it when you call me by my name."

Maybe he hears me. 

"I didn't hear my name being spoken for a long time. It makes me emotional every time, with no exception."

You're a crybaby, he should've said. 

Her hand fully settled on top of his while the witch continued to slowly rub her fingertips into his skin, trying to bring herself back to earth even if her thoughts were sailing through unfortunate memories. 

"I wasn't called by my name for years after my father became a pirate," she continued the story that started during their drinking night. "He aimed to become an Admiral and he was part of the Navy Forces for half of his life. For a long time, he thought he could do better than his comrades and hoped he could change the corruption that took place in the Government and the Marines. Insane, right?" she let out a sour chuckle. "An Admiral becoming a pirate. Everyone called him insane."

Once again, she smiled at the faint memories of her father's warm smile. There were details she didn't mention that night on the deck, like the status of her father in the Navy. 

"I didn't reach ten yet when he left. He considered it would've been dangerous to stay with us and, if I am to be honest, mom would've kicked him out of their home."

Their home, because that place was never her home. 

"Calling me by my name would've meant he still has ties with me and someone might've taken advantage of that."

Nine years ago, the witch was a child who only learnt how to use a kitchen knife for cutting vegetables. That child has been stripped of her innocence a few years later. 

"A few times a year he would visit me. He would hide from the Marines, while I would hide from my mom. I still remember how he was so much happier. He looked younger, like he was living his teenage years and not his thirties. Except for a few days I'd stay with him and his crew, he was roaming around the seas. He never judged a single soul, believing it wasn't his job to do so, even if he would protect anyone who needed help. He changed the meaning of a pirate in a good way."

She turned her head towards the window, watching the blue sky mingling with the sea and the port of Baratie where people were walking on the wooden battens. 

"He was caught by the Marines while he visited me and killed in the center of the city," her voice lowered to a gentle whisper, just like the breeze coming from the open window and giving her goosebumps. 

She remembers that moment all too clearly, eyebrows knitting together as she squeezed Zoro's hand lightly, hoping it would bring some comfort to her shattered heart. 

A life that felt like an eternity already made her believe her name was like damnation for anyone who said it. A few syllables being spoken and you'd be cursed to die one way or another, since her mother refused to call by the name her father chose when she saw light for the first time. Her father and his crew were the only ones calling her name so dearly, with honey latched onto their voices, treating her like a daughter. 

She was someone's daughter when she was with them. And now, by Luffy's side, she was someone's friend. 

"I don't want to watch you die too," only then she looked at him again. "Don't die on me. Don't leave us alone."

There was determination in her tone, mingling with pain and sorrow. Half of her believed in him the same way she believed the sea was blue and that leaves were green. The other half drowned in anguish. 

Zoro seemed almost serene, despite the small frown that never left his face. She took in a deep breath and moved her hand away from his, only to lean over and rest her elbows on her knees. 

She needed some fresh air. 

The witch got up and left the room in a hurry, before tears would've slipped down her cheeks. She pushed it all aside, holding it in, since there was no time to weep at anyone's grave. Zoro was still breathing, even if half dead. 

He will get better. He had to. 

She walked into the galley. Standing up in front of the table was Sanji, wearing only his white and blue checkered shirt, the black jacket suit abandoned on the armrest of the couch. He was cutting some vegetables, skillfully holding the knife. 

On the cushions sat Luffy, cleaning Zoro's white sword, just like he said. Meanwhile, Usopp was the one to notice her first, leaning with his hands prompted onto the wooden table. Nami couldn't be spotted anywhere. 

The sound of her own name almost made her flinch. The witch blinked quickly, looking at Usopp. Both Sanji and Luffy looked at her then. The latter had some deep puppy eyes — her heart aches at that look alone. 

"How is he?" 

"Unconscious," she breathed out softly.

She let out a sigh and ran her fingers through her hair, her eyebrows pulled together. 

"I suppose you haven't eaten anything since yesterday," Sanji smiled gently. "Anything I could make for you?" 

"I appreciate it, really, but I don't have an appetite," she dismissed him with a faint smile of her own. 

"You could use some energy, you know," Usopp mumbled. 

"You, Luffy? What would you like to eat?" Sanji got back to chopping the vegetables. 

"I'm not hungry right now. You could make something for Zoro. He'll surely be hungry when he wakes up!" 

Their captain still had hope bubbling in his chest and it was the only thing keeping them all afloat. 

However, the witch couldn't bear to think about it anymore. She spotted her shirt hanging on a nail in the wall, close to the couch. With a quick gesture, she grabbed at it, intending to put it on herself until the heavy scent of blood filled her senses the second time that day—

The shirt was soaked in Zoro's blood from the time when she used it to stop the bleeding of his wound. Nausea crawled up her throat and she unintentionally dropped the piece of cloth when she became aware of the sickness settling deeply in the pitch of her stomach. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

With a hand covering her mouth, she rushed out of the galley, on the deck, the doors shutting harshly behind her. She leaned over the railing as the acidic taste made its way up her throat and on her tongue. 

A disgusting sensation, truly. 

She's seen blood before, she saw countless corpses laying at her feet, but nothing could compare with the vision of a dear person giving their last breath. She couldn't believe she vomited because of blood, such a normal occurrence in her life.

But it wasn't just any kind of blood — it was Zoro's and it sunk into the material of her own shirt. 

She will have to throw it away. There's no way in hell she would manage to ever wear that again, even if it would be clean and smelling like lavender.

Tears clung to her eyelashes when she opened her eyes again, looking down into the sea. She was breathing heavily and she regretted swallowing her own saliva, as the awful taste lingered in her mouth unpleasantly. 

Warm fingers touched her shoulder and before she saw whose hand it was, there was a glass of water being shoved towards her. When she glanced up, she saw the blonde waiter. 

"Thank you, Sanji," she took the glass from his hand, sipping slowly as the gentle weight on her shoulder disappeared. 

"If I knew such a beautiful lady was waiting for me to wake up, I would've opened my eyes much sooner."

The waiter — who could apparently also cook like a professional — said that in a somewhat flirtatious tone. Also, there was compassion lingering in his honeyed voice. 

"If Zoro would hear you, he would've thrown you overboard."

Nami. 

The witch didn't even notice her on the deck until that moment, her head snapping towards the navigator, her eyes sparkling with hope as she gripped at the glass in between her fingers. Nami was a few meters away from her, with her back facing the sea and her hands curled around the railing. 

The witch has seen Nami's expression countless times when she looked in the mirror after a crying fit. The same bloodshot eyes and puffy eyes, the red tip of her nose and the husky voice. 

"I don't remember you having sea sickness," Nami pried into her soul. 

The witch looked towards the water at the bottom of her glass, ashamed of her own reaction. 

"Because I don't have sea sickness," the witch whispered weakly, basically admitting her vulnerable state. 

She was more than just thankful Sanji chose not to elaborate on the reason behind her reaction. There was still acid sitting on her tongue, even after she gulped down the last droplets of water from her glass. 

"Where are you heading to?" 

The witch noticed when Nami straightened her back and walked away, towards the dock. 

"Maybe I can find another drink at the restaurant," Nami waved the back of her hand at the witch. 

That sounded very familiar to a lie for some reason, but was it the witch's place to comment? 

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•

Familiar fear made its way through her body, scratching underneath the skin, whispering in her ear like a mantra the same phrase her mother has always told her: "there's nothing you can do about it, so accept it." 

Those words always unsettled the young witch deeply. She heard that voice everytime she hid in a room with the books her grandmother left behind, pages filled with tarot and palmistry, the promise of real magic, different from the fairy tales. It sounded and felt palpable, her eyes sparkling. Those books were her treasure, a future filled with freedom. 

The same words were being shouted in her ears by the ghosts when her body stiffened in its spot. She wanted to scream while the man who was her father was dragged away by Marines, this time on the port of Baratie, not in her hometown. 

The deafening yell she wanted to let out was silent. Her lips didn't even part and her awareness slipped away as she continued to see blood pooling at her father's feet, his signature royal blue coat painted in crimson. As if her vocal chords broke before she opened her mouth, no sound left her lips. 

"He deserved it," sounded so clear in her ear, as if her mother stood right beside her, watching the same scene unfolding over and over again.

No, no, I can't let him die! I need to do something! Please, dad, you can't—

The man who stood proudly was dying, his body decomposing right before her eyes. A sickening view, as the skin melted off the meat, leaving only bones and tendons behind, covered by heavy clothes, two empty holes in his cranium instead of beautiful sparkling eyes. Blood dried on the white bones and sunk into the material of his coat and it flowed towards her, to the tips of her boots—

"Luffy! Arlong is here and he's after you, we have to leave now!" 

The witch gasped loudly, her eyes snapping open. Nami, who just entered, was panting heavily, fingers gripping at the edge of the doorframe. 

Who's Arlong? 

She noticed Luffy who just got up from the chair he was sitting on, right by Zoro's side. Usopp had his fingers curled around one of the ropes holding the bed in the room hanging in the air. 

There were no dead corpses around. Gosh, that nightmare was scary as hell. Her heart still drummed in her eardrums, blood rushing through her veins at an alarming pace. 

She managed to get on her feet, her palm glued to the wall to support herself. 

"Where do you think you're going, Luffy?"

Nami was panicked. Her fear grew steadily, just like fire, and she was on the edge of cussing out that entire bunch of confident idiots. 

"We can't let Arlong hurt people just because of us. He might kill everyone if we don't step in."

Luffy was rarely so serious, but the situation asked for it. However, the navigator was anything but happy with his suicidal decision. 

The witch turned her head towards the unconscious swordsman. She took in a deep breath, calming the waters threatening to destroy her mind. Then, her warm gaze raised back to the navigator who squeezed the map in between her trembling fingers. 

"You'll stay here and protect the ship, Nami," Luffy smiled reassuringly. "I trust you."

The orange haired woman searched for a different reaction from the witch, but received the same determination. 

"Have you all grown insane?" she whispered in horror. 

The witch made slow steps towards her and engulfed her in a warm hug, wrapping her arms around the navigator's body. She squeezed her gently, resting her chin on Nami's shoulder. 

"Something is troubling you greatly. Don't lie to me," the witch whispered in her ear softly. "You've got something in your head and you're pushing all of us away. We trust you, even if it'll bring us our death."

That's what scared Nami the most. 

The witch parted just to look into Nami's troubled blue eyes. 

"We'll be alright. We have to be. We'll figure it out together."

She had no clue how much Nami wanted to believe her, but it was impossible to do so. The navigator knew better what danger awaits them in Baratie now that Arlong appeared, that monster—. 

Right. That's what pirates were: monsters. So why did the ones in front of her look like friends instead of demons stealing her life away? 

The witch squeezed her shoulders and smiled so warmly, so calmly, different from the agitation they would face. 

For one second only, Nami dared to believe. Then, it crumbled to her feet when Luffy and the witch left her room with one glance back at Zoro. 

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•

The witch found herself in the restaurant once again. Her fingers gripped tightly at the gun she held, finding comfort in the familiar weight settled in her hand. On purpose, she stood behind the other three men, sharp eyes scanning her surroundings carefully. They were lucky they chose to enter from the first floor, since she could easily hide. 

She wasn't hiding for the reasons some would think of. The witch intentionally stood on the side, analyzing the situation. First of all, she had to find the smallest opportunity to find a weak spot for that fishman. From her spot, still glued to the wall and hidden from everyone's eyes, she focuses on Luffy's conversation with Arlong. 

"I expected someone… bigger," Arlong commented with a wide grin, sharp teeth on full display. 

He could definitely be classified as scary, but the witch didn't want to admit that to herself. Was he dangerous? Of course. 

"Me too," Luffy commented. 

Alright, maybe Luffy had far more confidence than she thought, since he dared to make fun of that fishman, angering him. It wasn't enough that Luffy was hunted down by Arlong, he had to make him angry as well—

What was she scared of? 

She took in a deep breath and a few seconds were enough for her heartbeat to beat at a normal pace. The witch didn't have enough time to worry about consequences, she had to find their weakness quickly and act on it. 

While her focus slipped from them, Luffy was already walking down one of the two pairs of stairs meeting up at the first floor of the restaurant. Arlong threatened the straw hat about something and the first thing she heard was the deafening sound of a shotgun. 

The same sound was followed by a soft chiming filling the silence. 

Her chest tightened since no groan of pain could be heard from anyone. When she glanced at the people downstairs, she saw Zeff — the cook who stitched Zoro up — with a gun pointed at Arlong. However, the fishman only turned his head back and cocked an eyebrow at the cook. 

The bullet was most probably what caused that chiming sound. It seemed like fishmen's scales were bulletproof. 

Fucking great. Her long range fighting style wasn't to her advantage. 

An ounce of fear uncomfortably gnawed at her courage. The witch hated that helpless sensation, as if there was no escape, as if that was her dead end. 

Her fingers gripped tighter around her gun, until the skin turned yellow. 

I can't chicken out now. I don't have the luxury of turning my back against a fight in such a critical situation. 

She swallowed the lump in her throat after she bit so hard onto her lower lip she tasted copper on her tongue. 

Everyone has a weakness, right? Fishmen must have one as well. 

On the floor below, Luffy threw his stretchy arms at Arlong, with his hands curled into fists. Zeff was harshly thrown into a table that broke down, making Sanji jump into action as well. Usopp was the only one that remained upstairs, uselessly hiding behind the decorative wrought iron railing — he could be easily seen. 

Crouching down to Usopp's level, the witch slowly walked towards him with the gun still in her hand. When his eyes fell on her, he blinked like a confused owl. 

"Guns don't work!" he whisper-shouted at her, horror painting his features. 

With a sigh, she grinned cheekily. 

"Are you running, scaredy-cat?" she taunted him with an arched eyebrow. 

"Are you insane?" he frowned when she was a few inches away from him. "You can't seriously believe your gun is gonna do any damage to those monsters." 

Glancing down between the iron bars of the railing, the witch spotted other two fishmen getting up from their table. So there were three in total. 

With an unusually serious tone, she stared into Usopp's eyes, determination oozing out of her. 

"You can't run now, Usopp. I hope you're aware of that."

"Even you hesitated for a second!" 

His nervous demeanor and his over-thinking habits got the best of him at that moment. He was equally scared and amazed by the witch's courage. 

"That was before I realized there's no going back. Usopp," she lowered her tone, fingers gripping at his shirt to bring him down from the clouds. "If you choose to run away, you will never become a brave warrior of the seas. Do you hear yourself? We're not running anywhere. We have to fight if we don't want to leave Luffy and Sanji to deal with the fishmen on their own." 

She wasn't exactly good at motivational speeches, but that seemed to shake his soul well enough. 

"Now help me find out their soft spots so we can bring those idiots down before they destroy this entire restaurant and eat us alive." 

Bullets couldn't penetrate their scales. She didn't know if blades could work any better either. Also, Arlong alone had the highest bounty in the East Blue, not his friends. He was most probably much stronger than them. 

If she could bring down at least one of the other two fishman, it was also a win. 

Then, an idea popped into her head. 

Their eyes. 

They didn't have anything protecting their eyes except for the fact that they were sunk into their faces. With her aim, she had a chance to shoot one of them. She had to take advantage of the fact that no one knew she was there and making a plan. 

Taking in a deep breath, the witch placed the gun between the iron bars and aimed at the fishman with ridiculously big lips. She wasn't exactly that far away, but she had to concentrate. One single miss and everything would go down, since her presence would be obvious and her hand to hand fighting skills weren't that well developed against raw strength. 

She waited patiently, Usopp still by her side. Once the fishman stood still, turned towards her, she pulled the trigger of her gun. 

The bullet struck his eye and he groaned in pain, receiving a proud smile from the witch who quickly hid behind a table from upstairs, dragging Usopp with her. Her heartbeat was so fast in her ears it could leave her deaf. 

She had to pull herself together. 

"You've got good aim," Usopp's voice trembled. 

"Thanks," she breathed out heavily, eyes closing for a second. 

There was an entire tornado in her soul. The witch knew there was no place for running away, but she was equally aware of her disadvantage against fishmen who fight with their fists. 

Zoro would've loved the thrill of this fight. 

But he wasn't there to joke about her being a scared little lady. 

And Nami wasn't there to yell into her face and tell her to wake the fuck up and help her find a better plan. 

Before she had a chance to notice, Usopp was crawling down the stairs on the left once an idea popped into his head, or that was what the witch thought. 

She felt a certain presence walking up the stairs on her right and her eyes widened. The other fishman spotted her.

"Here you were, wench," he spoke with a growl. 

She didn't have enough time to scramble to her feet before a rough hand wrapped around her neck and lifted her up in the air, pushing her against the wall. She could barely even groan when her breathing was restricted by the awfully strong grip the fishman had on her throat. 

Her gun fell from her hand and hit the floor with a weak sound. 

Uselessly, her fingers grabbed at the muscled blue arm holding her up, feet a few inches away from the floor. Compared to him, her grip was weak, insignificant. 

The witch was never the type to necessarily wish to live, but she certainly didn't want to die in that moment, when others' lives were hanging on a thread. 

Also, she didn't want that ugly fucking fishman with big lips to be the last sight before she closed her eyes forever. 

Dammit. 

Tag list: @emelia07 @dimplewonie @tfamidoingwithmylife @murnsondock @the-skys-musical-echo @conspiracy-crows @hallow33nz @ramae17 @gaslysainz @bunntsu @katt58 @katiemrty @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @freyademartel @boofy1998 @ponyboys-sunsets @melsunshine @loveyluv7 @waddlingwanderer @jesssssmaybankk @nadlx33333 @yoong1c0re @untoldshortsofthefandoms @mizzy-pop

[sarahsmi13s]

Mama's Don't Get Sick Days

whumptober day 18: fever / vomiting / warm soup

pairing: mickey 'fanboy' garcia x reader

characters: mickey garcia, wife!reader, genevieve garcia, jayda garcia, sebastian garcia

warnings: 18+ MDNI, language, vomiting, mickey is a dad, parenting while sick, fever, neglecting health, please let me know if I missed any

word count: ~ 2.1k

a/n: this is for whumptober! please please please proceed with caution and use discretion, protect your peace

also if you are on the whump taglist but are not familiar with a character, you can skip it will not hurt my feelings!

whumptober 2023 masterlist

summary: when your a spouse and a parent, sometimes you forget that you can be taken care of as well

You sighed as you sat on the couch. Your head was pounding and your stomach was churning with the whole lot of nothing that was in it.

Running around all morning with three kids, two of them under the age of 5 and one of them was just learning how to walk, was an absolute nightmare with how you were feeling.

Mickey had woken you up with a forehead kiss before going off to work and then your 6 and 4 year old woke you up a little while later with Genevieve crying because she was gonna be late for school.

So, with a splitting headache and sinus pressure, you got her dressed and fed her breakfast before getting all of your kids in the car and taking her to school.

The rest of the day was a blur of chasing Jayda and keeping her occupied and keeping little Sebastian out of things and things out of his mouth. 

Jayda was 4 and pretty good at staying out of trouble, but she was still young and had an independent head on her shoulders – so asking for help was never really an option so you had to make sure she wasn’t climbing on things and getting stuck on the closet's top shelf.

Sebastian was 1 and just learning how to walk. So he was getting into anything he reached and if it was on the floor or the table it most likely was going in his mouth.

So, between keeping Jayda on the ground, Sebastian from eating something he shouldn’t, and you not puking every time you bent over or changed a diaper and going through tissues like you were watching the saddest scene 100 times, you were exhausted. 

But you had to stay awake even if those two were napping, because you had to pick up Gen from school on time.

“Mama?” Gen asked from her bar stool as you make her after school snack of Goldfish, and her dried mangos that you forgot to pack that morning, and turkey cheese rolls. 

You glanced over your shoulder, “What’s up Vieve?” “Are you feeling okay? You look like I feel when I’m feeling icky,” she said, sounding so sweet as she rested her head on the counter. “And I was almost late for school, you always have me up…” “I’m okay baby, just a little frazzled today,” you said before coughing into your arm.

Sniffling, you turned and put the paper plate in front of her, “I’m really sorry about this morning, I should’ve gotten up sooner.” Genevieve took a bite of her turkey cheese roll, “It’s okay I got to school on time.”

You gave her a gentle smile before kissing her head, “Did you have a good day?” She nodded, “I did, Jacie and I played…” You nodded along with her as she proceeded to tell you about her day, listening to her as you took some Cutie slices off of Jayda’s plate and Cheerios off of Sebastian’s tray.

At some point while she was talking you went to check her lunch box to see what she hadn’t eaten. 

But as you opened it you were hit with a pungent reminder of what she had for lunch. Tuna and crackers, something her grandmother introduced her to during the last visit.

The smell churned your stomach that last time and anything you managed to actually eat was crawling up your throat.

Covering your mouth, you managed to make it to the downstairs bathroom before falling to your knees and puking in the toilet.

You rested your head on your arm, groaning miserably as you flushed the toilet before regaining your bearings and standing up.

With your head pounding, you wash your hands and swish your mouthwash before going back to the kitchen.  “Hey, Jay, Vieve?” You said softly as you got Sebastian out of his high chair. “Yes Mama?” “I’m gonna go sit on the couch, Bash is gonna be in his playpen. Finish your snacks and then you can play okay?”

They both nodded before Genevieve stopped you with a hand on your arm as you walked by, “Are you not feeling well?” You sighed, “No, baby, I’m a little under the weather but don’t you worry, I’m gonna be okay.”

You gave her a gentle smile before going to the living room and putting Sebastian in his playpen. You sighed as you sat down. “Oh lordy… just a few more hours and he’ll be home and I can rest.” 

As you curl up under a blanket and move the trash can closer to the couch, you rest your cold hands on your face to try and relieve the pressure in your nose. 

You can make out Jayda and Genevieve arguing in the kitchen. “I can take the Sprite to Mama!” “Jay, you can’t reach them in the fridge! Get the crackers!” “I don’t wanna!”

“Girls! Please don’t yell,” you groaned a little from your spot on the couch. “Sorry Mama!”

You sighed and rubbed your head before you heard more loud noises coming from the kitchen and then a little, “Oopsie.”

“What happened?” 

“Jayda tried to get a can of Sprite and dropped them…” 

Taking a sharp inhale, you look up at the ceiling and let it out before looking at Sebastian, “I’ll be right back Bash. Mama has a mess to clean.” “No! I gots it, Mama! I’ll get a towel,” Jayda said as she ran to the laundry room.

“Okay,” you sighed, at this point it was useless to try and argue. You were tired, you could mop it up later.

“Here Mama, I got you some water,” Genevieve said softly as she brought you a cup. It was over flowing, and you were sure there was a trail of water behind her. But the thought was sweet. “Thank you baby.”

You sipped the water in your glass before sitting it down and leaning back.

“Mama! I brought you crackers!” Jayda shouted, running over with a sleeve of crackers. 

You smiled a little, “Thank you Jay.” You reached for them but she held out a hand, “No, I’ll open it!” “Jayda, don’t yell! Mama has a headache!” “Vieve, you’re yelling,” you said gently. “Sorry Mama.” 

You looked back to Jayda to see her struggling before ripping it open and spilling crackers on the carpet. “Oops…” She looked up at you and handed you what was left, “Here you go.” “Thank you hun.”

“Why don’t you both go play in your room, Gen. Daddy will be home soon and you can go outside.”

They nodded before running up the stairs. 

You sighed and held your head in your hands before sliding to the floor and picking up the crackers and throwing them away. 

But your position change made blood rush to your head and triggered your gag reflex. “Shit,” you muttered before gripping the edges of the trash can and just waiting for it. Apparently it was taking its time until you sat up because it all rushed up at once when you did.

Groaning into the trash can, you spat into it before getting up and going back into the bathroom to wash your mouth out again.

You came back into the living room to hear Sebastian crying. 

“Oh Bash, Mama left you alone didn’t she. I’m sorry,” you said, picking him up and shushing him gently. “Oh I know baby boy, I’m sorry.” 

It took you about 20 minutes of that before he fell asleep in your arms and you laid him down in his playpen. 

“There you go, baby.” You sighed and laid down on the couch. “Just an hour, and Mickey will be home…” You cuddled up with a blanket and turned the TV on, “Just need to relax for a little bit.”

Mickey smiled as he walked in, “Hey, guess who’s home?” “Shhhh, Daddy, Mama’s sleeping,” Genevieve hissed from her spot on the carpet. 

“Oh,” he winced. “Sorry sorry.” 

He put his bag down gently before walking in, seeing tissues on nearly every surface from where you had blown your nose while you chased kids around the house. And then when he got to the living room he noticed the trash can next to the couch.

The girls were coloring in the living room, having come down to watch TV just before Mickey got home, and Sebastian was still napping.

He sighed and went over to you, glancing to see the vomit in the trash can. He knelt down, feeling the saltines break under his weight. 

“Hey, baby?” Mickey gently shook your shoulder, putting the inside of his wrist to your forehead, “Shit… you’re burning up.” He patted your face, “Hey honey.” 

You groaned a little as your eyes fluttered open, “Hey, Mick…”

“How long have you been like this?” 

“What do you mean?” 

He arched his brow, “Um, you’re cuddled up on the couch burning up and sweating like I do on the tarmac? Honey, have you felt icky all day?” He censored himself, remembering little ears were in ear shot. 

“I um,” you said sniffling as you sat up. Mickey watched you close your eyes and groan as you steadied yourself and he frowned. “Sweetheart…” “I’m okay Mick, just a little-” 

Your sentence got interrupted by a sudden rush of sick. “Trash can…” Mickey didn’t even question it and held the trash can up, holding your hair back with his free hand.

“I got you baby, I got ya.” 

“Daddy? Is Mama okay?” Jayda asked, a little worry in her voice. “Yeah, Mama’s gonna be okay. She’s just not feeling well, but she’s okay.” Jayda nodded and quietly went back to coloring. 

Once you’re done throwing up, Mickey helps you stand. “Girls, Mama and I will be right back, be good okay?” “Yes Daddy,” they both said as they continued to color.

Mickey helped you to the bathroom and sat you on the closed toilet as he looked for the thermometer. “Have you felt bad all day?” You opened your mouth but he spoke again. “And don’t lie to me.”

You sighed and nodded as he held the thermometer up and put it in your mouth.

“You’ve felt shitty all day?” You nodded again as the thermometer beeped and he took it out to look at it. “101.3, fuck, Honey. Why didn’t you call me? I would have come home. Mav would under-”

“That’s exactly why I didn’t tell you. I didn’t want to take you away from work.” “Screw work, you’re sick and you took care of three kids by yourself. Honey, you’re exhausted and you won’t get better if you don’t let yourself rest.”

You shook your head before groaning a little at the headache the action gave you, “Miguel, you can’t-” You blinked as you stopped mid sentence, your lips trembling as you felt sick again. Covering your mouth, you moved to the floor and lifted the lid to throw up in the toilet.

Mickey frowned, feeling awful for not being here today and leaving you to deal with the kids while you miserable. He squatted down and grabbed a ponytail holder, tying your hair back for you, “I’m calling Cyclone and Mav, I’m not going in tomorrow so I can take care of you and the kids.”

“I can’t ask you to do that… You love your job.”

He looked up at you, almost angry, “Not as much as I love you. And you’re not asking, that’s the reason I’m telling you that I’m not going in.”

You stayed quiet and just shook your head, trying not to get sick again, “I need to make dinner…” He shook his head right back, “You’re not serious, you’re actively trying not to throw up again. Y/N, you need to go lay down with a cold rag on your head. I’ll fix dinner for me and the kids and you get soup.”

You perked up a little, sitting up and looking at him, “Your abuela’s soup?” 

He smiled and cupped your cheek, “If that’s what you want then that’s what I’ll make. But only if you take a break and let me baby you until you're better.” “But the kids-” “What did I say?” 

You sighed, “Okay, okay fine.” 

“Alright now, let’s get you on the couch and I will get any mess left by our girls.”

You nodded and let him take you back to the couch before he got you a cool, damp rag.

“There you go Honey,” he said, laying it across your forehead. “Thank you Mickey. I love you.” “I love you too.” 

You smiled at him, “Go start dinner so I can have abuela’s soup, go go.” He chuckled, “Alright, alright.” He kissed the top of your head before going to the kitchen.

“Hey! Who spilled Sprite all over the floor?”

taglist: @bradleybeachbabe @mayhemmanaged @kmc1989 @lovinglyeternal @horseshoegirl @cassiemitchell @fanboyswhore9 @nightowlalltheway @86laura11 @els-marvelvsp @valmare @startrekfangirl2233

hi, if you're seeing this and are currently not on the taglist and would like to be please fill out the taglist form -> whumptober taglist

i can not stress this enough, but whumptober can have some very serious and heavy topics and i want to make sure i am doing my part as an author to prepare my readers for what they are about to experience and that includes not only warnings above but my taglists as well

so if you want to be added check out the masterlist and read that carefully and fill out the form -> whumptober 2023