#they were a dishevelled mess even before. barely presentable

[heres-to-all-that-is-mine]

I can’t remember if I ever mentioned it but like. This is what Zor looked like in this fic. They did not have TIME to get all dolled up for this they had to be there asap

[maxtermind]

“your opinion of me won't change, right?” + lando (who kinda has a fuckboy reputation but fell for the reader)

“your opinion of me won't change, right?”

( event masterlist \ main masterlist \ drop a request ) ★:summary:: the one where a fuckboy gets turned into a loverboy? ★:feat:: lando norris x reader ★:genre:: hurt/comfort

the knock on your door comes around midnight when you're almost going to bed. you don’t expect anyone, especially not him.

for a second, you stand still, unsure of what to do with heart thudding. but the persistent rapping doesn’t stop, and despite the days of silence between you two, you already know who it is.

when you swing the door open, lando stumbles in, his shoulders slumped, eyes clouded with alcohol and something darker. his hair is a mess, damp from the rain, and he reeks of whiskey and regret.

“y/n,” he breathes out, almost as if he’s relieved to see you. but you’re not relieved at all. you’re angry, confused, and hurt and looking at him really hit you so hard that you had to squeeze the ends of your his t-shirt to not stumble.

you close the door behind him, and he sways unsteadily. he’s drunk—drunker than you’ve ever seen him. his clothes are disheveled, his usual cool confidence replaced by something pitiful, something raw.

"lando, what the hell are you doing here?" your voice is sharp, meant to sting, because his presence alone already rips at the wounds that haven't even started healing yet.

he doesn’t answer right away. instead, he looks at you with those familiar blue eyes, the same ones that once made you weak in the knees, but now… they just bring back the pain. his lips tremble as if he’s about to say something, but he doesn’t.

"you—" lando slurs slightly, stepping forward, hands outstretched. "you weren't… supposed to leave. you—" it washed over you like a bucket of cold water and you're already moving away from his touch.

"don't." your voice cracks, and you hate how fragile you sound. you take another step back, putting more space between you two. "don’t come here like this again."

lando rubs his face, pacing around your small living room slowly, stumbling over air. he’s spiraling, trying to collect his thoughts, but the alcohol muddles his brain and you can see the struggle on his face.

“i didn’t mean to… i didn’t want you to leave,” he mutters. he turns to you, desperation in his eyes. "i messed up, okay? i know that. but i… fuck, i’m trying, y/n."

you cross your arms, every muscle tense. "trying? you’re drunk, lando. that’s not trying."

his face crumples at your words, and he stumbles back, this time collapsing onto the couch like his legs can’t hold him up anymore. his hands run through his hair, pulling at it in frustration, in agony.

you vividly remember what happened a few nights ago when a girl texted him asking if he was up for 'another' great night. it wasn't easy being with someone while knowing he could have anyone in the entire world and with his past, you were already always on the edge of letting your insecurities out.

it just led to a bigger argument where instead of assuring you how you were the only one he ever wanted, he asked you to either start trusting him or leave.

so you left.

"do you know how much i fucking hate myself?" his voice is hoarse now, barely above a whisper, but the rawness in it cuts through you like a knife as it brings you back to the present. "i tried to be better for you. i… i tried."

you swallow the lump forming in your throat, trying to stay firm, but it’s hard. it's always been hard with him. "you have a funny way of showing it."

he lifts his head slowly, tears brimming in his eyes now, and the sight is enough to make your resolve crack just a little. you've never seen him cry before. not like this.

“your opinion of me won’t change, right?” his voice breaks, and you freeze. the vulnerability in his question sends a jolt of pain straight to your chest. he sounds small, defeated, like the weight of everything he’s been carrying has finally crushed him.

“lando…” you whisper, but he doesn’t let you finish.

"because everyone else—" he pauses, taking in a shaky breath. "they all think they know me? that i’m just some… some asshole who doesn’t care, who’s not capable of… anything real? but i’m not. i’m not, y/n. you know that, right?"

the room feels heavy, like the air is thickening with every word. you want to say something, to tell him that you believed in him once, that you saw the good in him, the real lando, but it’s not that simple anymore.

"i fell for you," he says, voice trembling, eyes glistening as he stares up at you like you're the only thing that can save him. with the rapid blinking of his eyes, tears start to fall and so does your resolve. "i wish i didn’t put you through this, but i did. and i didn’t know how to be that guy… the one you deserved. but i tried. i’m still trying."

it’s quiet for a moment, just the sound of his ragged breathing and your heartbeat pounding in your ears.

you look at him, really look at him. his face is flushed from the alcohol and the tears, but beneath that, you see something more. he’s broken in ways you never let yourself see before.

all the cockiness, the bravado, the charm—it was all just a shield. he never thought he was good enough for you either, and maybe that’s why you left. you repeat it to yourself but it was a losing war.

the old lando wouldn’t be here, in front of you, crying and baring his soul. he wouldn’t have admitted any of this. isn't that reason enough to give him another chance?

he was selfish before, reckless, hiding behind his reputation as the playboy, the fun guy who never cared too deeply about anything. but now, now you see the cracks. you see the vulnerability he’s tried so hard to bury and it kills you to give in but the words leave you before you can stop yourself.

"i thought you didn’t care," you admit softly, feeling all your defenses start to crumble. "that’s why i left, lando. i didn’t think you could care."

"i fucking love you," he lets out a bitter laugh, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. not believing what you were saying at all. "i care too fucking much. i just… maybe i don’t know how to show it right."

you sigh, sitting down beside him on the couch, still keeping a little distance between you. "it’s not about showing it right. it’s about showing it at all."

he looks at you, his gaze softer now, more open. "i’m sorry. i know i’ve been… i know i fucked up. but i’m… i love you, y/n. i really fucking love you. and i didn’t know how much until you weren’t there."

his words hang in the air, and for the first time in weeks, you don’t feel anger or hurt. you just feel… sad. sad for him, sad for you, sad for all the misunderstandings that led you here.

you reach out, gently brushing a lock of his hair from his forehead. he closes his eyes at the touch, leaning into it like he’s starved for your touch. he probably is because so are you.

"i’ve changed," he murmurs, his voice thick with exhaustion. "i swear loving you has changed me."

you don’t respond right away. instead, you lean forward and press a soft, lingering kiss to his forehead. his skin is warm beneath your lips, and the simple gesture feels more intimate than anything you’ve ever shared before.

when you pull back, lando looks at you through heavy-lidded eyes, his emotions raw and exposed. "i love you too," he mumbles, his voice barely audible, like he’s falling asleep or slipping into a dream where things are better, where you’re together again.

you don’t know what’s going to happen next, or if you can really fix what’s broken between you. but for the first time in a long while, you feel like maybe… just maybe, you can try.

and maybe this time, it’ll be different.

©maxtermind // do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platforms.

★:a/n:: thanks for the request love! feedback and reblogs are appreciated :3

[vanteguccir]

can you do when the triplets go to Boston and Matt gets to see his sneaky link after no physical contact in two months and fans see them after fucking 

── ୨୧ !　BLURB

fwb!matt sturniolo x reader

where you and fwb!matt reunite again after some weeks, and the back home vlog caught your state after fucking

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

Matt’s heart raced as he laid beside Y/N, the faint glow of the setting sun peeking through the window blinds casting shadows across his childhood bedroom. The familiar scent of his cologne, mixed with a hint of her perfume, hung in the air; an intoxicating blend of familiarity and desire.

Being back in Boston brought with it a surge of emotions, but seeing Y/N again after weeks apart had his feelings on overdrive. His hand brushed softly over her bare back, fingers tracing lazy circles as the two of them caught their breath.

The faintest of smiles tugged at the corners of her mouth as she curled into his side, the soft hum of his breathing calming her.

"You know, I missed this." He murmured, his voice low, still laced with arousal, as he turned to look at her. His deep blue eyes softened as they met hers, his thumb grazing over her cheek. "Missed you."

Y/N smirked, leaning in to press a lingering kiss to his collarbone.

"You better have." She teased, feeling his chest rumble with a low chuckle. "It’s been weeks, Matt. I thought you forgot all about me."

He shifted, propping himself up on an elbow to look down at her, his face still glowing and eyes still dazed from the recent fucking they had.

"Forget you? Never." His voice was serious now, a flash of something deeper passing through his eyes before he covered it with a crooked grin. "Besides, you know I could never stay away from that pussy for long."

"You're an idiot, you know that?" Y/N asked, shaking her head as laughter escaped her mouth.

The moment lingered, both of them knowing there was more beneath the surface.

A loud knock echoed through the room, making both of them jolt.

"Matt! We’re about to film downstairs! You’re joining or what?" Nick’s voice called out from the hallway, shattering the bubble of peace around them.

Matt groaned, falling back onto the bed.

"Shit, I forgot about that."

Y/N let out a soft laugh, sitting up and quickly realizing the state Matt was in. His skin was still blotchy, and his hair was a wild mess, sticking up in all directions.

"You look like you’ve been through a storm." Y/N teased, running a hand through his disheveled hair as she attempted to smooth it down.

He chuckled, grabbing her wrist and pressing a kiss to the inside of it.

"Speak for yourself. You don’t exactly look put together either."

"Shit." Y/N muttered, catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror across the room. "They’re going to notice..."

Matt’s grin widened, a mischievous glint in his eye.

"Let them think what they want. It’s not like Nick and Chris don’t already have their suspicions."

Y/N rolled her eyes, but the warmth in her chest didn’t fade. There was something exhilarating about being back here with Matt, even with the possibility of being caught by his brothers. It was the thrill of sneaking around, the shared glances that held secrets, the unspoken connection that kept pulling the two of them back together every time they thought it was over.

Reluctantly, the two of them made their way downstairs, trying to make themselves look as presentable as possible.

Matt walked slightly ahead of her, his fingers brushing through his hair in a futile attempt to smooth down the mess Y/N had made of it upstairs. His back was straight, his usual laid-back demeanor replaced with an uncharacteristic stiffness as he tried his best to look composed.

Y/N, on the other hand, could feel the remnants of their recent activities painted across her face. A quick glance in the hallway mirror had confirmed it: her hair was wild and slightly frizzy from Matt’s hands pulling it, her eyes were glossy with that unmistakable post-sex daze, and her lips were plump and still tingling from all the fervent kissing.

She cursed under her breath, wishing she had taken more time to fix herself up, but now it was too late.

When they entered the living room, Matt immediately put some distance between the two of them. His hand, which had just moments ago been all over Y/N, now awkwardly shoved into his pocket. Y/N couldn’t help but smirk to herself at how hard he was trying to act normal.

He had moved to the far side of the room, picking up a random water bottle from the kitchen counter and taking a long gulp, clearly stalling for time. But it didn’t matter how much space he put between them. The evidence was still all over him.

Nick was already talking to the camera, barely glancing at the two of them, but Chris, sitting at the couch while tying his converse so they could go out, wasn’t as subtle. His sharp gaze flickered over Matt first, taking in his slightly crumpled clothes, the flushed red tint to his usually pale skin, and the way his hair was more messy than usual.

Then, Chris’s eyes drifted to Y/N, a knowing smirk already curling at the edges of his lips.

Y/N shifted under Chris’s scrutiny, attempting to fix her hair in vain, but there was no hiding. Her clothes, though she had tried to straighten them before coming downstairs, still looked slightly rumpled, like they had been tugged at and rearranged in haste. Chris didn’t say anything right away, but Y/N could tell he was mentally filing it away for later.

"So, uh, we’re back in Boston for the weekend, visiting family and all that... It’s been a minute since we’ve been home, so we’re filming a little ‘back home’ vlog for you guys." Nick’s voice broke the tension as he explained what they would be doing for the day, shifting into his more energetic on-camera persona. Matt stood awkwardly off to the side, attempting to stay out of frame for the moment, but it wasn’t long before Nick called him out. "Oh, Matt is finally here, too."

Matt took a deep breath as he noticed Nick pointing the camera at him, standing as casually as he could manage, though his body language was stiff, as if trying too hard not to look guilty.

"And Y/N too, y'all remember her, right? She was always with us..."

Y/N smiled awkwardly to the camera lens, waving slowly, still not used to being in a video frame - much less in those conditions -, trying to act as though everything was normal.

Chris leaned back on the couch, clearly relishing the opportunity. He gave Matt a sideways glance, his smirk widening as Nick kept talking to the camera, never one to miss an opportunity for a jab, cut in smoothly.

"Matt’s really been enjoying being back, huh?" His eyes flicked to Y/N briefly, but it was Matt who bore the brunt of his teasing. "What’ve you been up to, man? You look a little... red there."

Matt visibly stiffened, his face flushing even more at the comment. He shot Chris a warning glare, but Chris just grinned wider, clearly enjoying how flustered his brother was.

"Nothing, just... chilling." Matt muttered, his voice uncharacteristically quiet.

Nick, oblivious to the tension, carried on, but Chris wasn’t done yet. As Nick talked to the camera about their plans for the vlog, Chris leaned in slightly closer to Y/N - who was standing too close -, his voice low but just loud enough for the camera’s mic to catch.

"You too, kid." He said, eyes flicking over her with a teasing glint. "Missed us, huh?" His tone was dripping with sarcasm, and Y/N could feel her face heating up even more.

Y/N shot him a playful glare, trying to act like his teasing wasn’t getting to her, but it was hard to ignore the way her heart raced every time he looked between her and Matt. The two of them had done a good job of keeping their sneaky link under wraps for years, but it was clear Chris wasn’t buying the act anymore.

Nick, now noticing the back-and-forth, finally picked up on the vibe in the room. He paused mid-sentence, glancing between the three of them with furrowed brows.

"Wait, what’s going on here?" He asked, looking confused.

Chris waved him off, still grinning.

"Nothing, just messing with them. I mean, come on, doesn’t Matt look like he’s been... busy?"

Nick’s eyes flicked to Matt, then to Y/N, before his face lit up with realization. He tried to suppress a laugh, but it came out anyway.

"Oh yeah, you’re right. Matt looks like he just ran a marathon."

Matt groaned, running a hand through his hair as he tried to play it off.

"Can we just get on with the vlog?" He muttered, clearly desperate to change the subject, fishing his mother's car keys from the coffee table, ready to go to wherever they wanted to go without a complaint.

Nick finally gave in, though he was still chuckling under his breath as he turned back to the camera.

"Alright, let’s get back on track. We’ve got a lot to show you guys this weekend."

But even as the camera continued to roll and the vlog progressed, she and Matt exchanged a few glances, fresh memories of touches and pure pleasure running through their minds.

And sure enough, once the vlog was posted later that night, the comments started flooding in almost immediately.

"Y/N and matt look like they've gone through hell (or heaven) LMAO 😭"

"who knew matt had that in him"

"omg he looks so fucking hot like that 😩"

"HIS HAIR????? UGHHHH"

"post-sex matt just hits different (I'm so sure they had sex before that vlog)"

"chris is definitely the younger brother and I can prove it"

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh as she scrolled through the comments, feeling Matt’s arm wrap around her bare shoulders as the two of them lay on her bed, naked bodies only covered by thin sheets. Despite the teasing, despite how obvious it had all been, there was something thrilling about it; something that made sneaking around even more fun.

"Maybe next time we’ll be more subtle." Matt whispered in Y/N’s ear, his breath warm against her skin, his lips wrapping around the soft flesh of her jaw.

Y/N smirked, throwing her phone to the side and letting her head fall to the opposite side, opening way for his mouth.

"Or maybe we just won’t care."

[jingyuqn]

JIAOQIU DRABBLE

summary. herbalist reader x jiaoqiu tw. fem!reader, cursing, some pov changes, art by hoki11. (the lack of jiaoqiu fic is criminal), not proof read.

"What got you so happy, JIAOQIU?" The lacking general question her retainer. He seemed happier than usual, his smile seeming more genuine.

Said foxian tilt his head in faux confusion at his boss' question, "Mmh? Do I now?"

"Yes. And it's unnerving since your cooking. Don't tell me you added more spice?" The shadow guard frown at the thought. He only saw his colleague smile this widely when he tricked the food.

Jiaoqiu gasped. Clasping his heart, he put on a hurt face while sighing dramatically, "How could you! And here I thought we were friends. You truly wound me Moze..."

"Cut it out." Moze deadpanned while Feixiao could only laugh.

Well, the two of them were right. Jiaoqiu was indeed happier than usual, he thank the sweet lady he met earlier this evening. He ponders when he should meet her again. Perhaps he should bring along a gift or two.

JIAOQIU wanders along the streets of the Luofu in search of a herbs-selling shop nearby. He has been wandering for a few system hours now. Yet none sold the plant he so desperately need. He sighed in defeat, deciding to retreat for now. Maybe he would find it some other time.

That was how it should've gone.

Until his eyes caught onto a discreet shop. 'Herbs & Help'. It seemed like he missed out on one shop, Jiaoqiu was sceptical. He had been searching for awhile, leaving with more disappointment one after the other. But he suppose one more wouldn't hurt him.

Opening the door, the scent of herbs and spices welcomed him. His ears twitched at the sounds coming from the backdoor. Murmurs and curses could be faintly heard. He stopped at the counter filled with bags each containing different herbs. Jiaoqiu looked at the shelf presented in front of him, searching for the herb he needs.

"Fucking aeons, the back gets messier the more I go back to it—" the voice stops as the sight of the healer settles into the shop owner's mind. "Oh..Oh! Hello! Welcome, um, I'm y/n, how can I help you today?"

The woman looked dishevelled. Leaves sticking to her hair, dirt smeared her cheeks and her outfit. Nonetheless, Jiaoqiu smiles at the lady. "Hello, I'm looking for a herb—Goldenseal? I was wondering if you had any in stocks." Jiaoqiu waited for the expected 'No, sorry' or 'we ran out'.

"Oh! Goldenseal? I think I have some left in stock let me see." the young lady perked up at the familiar name, nodding at the gentleman before going back into the mess that is the storing room.

To say the foxian healer was surprised would be an understatement. To think a barely noticeable shop was the end of his endless search was a welcomed surprised.

The fox hummed as he looked around. The shop seemed well kept. The herbs looking to be of high quality, he was right to stop by.

Just as he was inspecting the plants, a loud crash echoed from the back.

A moment pass before Jiaoqiu asks, "Is everything alright back there? Do you need help?" More crashes were heard —with the young man wincing at every sound— before the lady comes back.

"Sorry. it's a bit of a mess back there. Here is your herb Mister, er.."

"JIAOQIU." the doctor smiled.

You blinked at the man. 'Jiaoqiu...' you noticed it before, but the man was very attractive. Embarrassment crept up your neck as you recalled the state you were in. Quickly and discreetly (though you failed at the second part.), you tried to tidy yourself up. If the man noticed, he didn't say a word about it.

"Right, Mister JIAOQIU. Here are your herbs, I added extra as an apology for the disastrous meeting." you nervously chuckled. Jiaoqiu chuckled in response, you were cute.

"Won't it be bad for your business? Giving out freebies just because of a first meeting?" he tilted his head, awaiting your answer.

Not if it's for a pretty man like you.

"Why thank you." his tail was wagging slightly, his ears twitching slightly.

Your eyes widen as the realization struck you. "I said that out loud, didn't I?" The nod from the foxian was all you needed to start digging up a hole to crawl into. You melted into the floor, heat rushing to your cheeks, you only let your eyes peeking out from below the counter. "The herbs will be 3000 credits please."

Jiaoqiu was amused at your state. You were honestly so adorable. With your soft voice and your eyes looking anywhere but his. He was interested in you. (Or well your reactions.)

He put down the credits, leaning over the counter so he was towering you in your crouched position. "Thank you for the herbs, you really saved me." He opened his eyes to stare at your own, the both of you shared a moment before he winked and stood tall once again,

"See you around, cutie." And with that he left (Though the wagging of his tail told you he left in a content state.).

"Fuck his voice was hot."

While you were melting behind the counter, JIAOQIU was already looking forward to the next time he'll visit your shop.

EXTRA ;

"So will you tell us why you were so happy earlier?" Feixiao questioned once more. Her curiosity wouldn't be sated until she learns the true reason for her retainer's giddiness. The foxian could only hum, his hands expectedly prepping the ingredients for the hot pot, a smile seemingly forever etched in his face. "Well for one, I found the herb I've been looking for," ("The ones you looked all over the Luofu and Yaoqing for?" Moze inquired. He received a nod in return.) "and I may have met a cutie who saved me the hassle of searching all over again." Moze and Feixiao exchanged glances. Seemed like their healer was infatuated with someone. If the still wagging tail was any more of an obvious sign

©—jingyuqn. do not repost, translate or copy my work. 2024.

[iloveboysinred]

Hiii, your keith hc where absolutely perfect, and I wanted to ask would it be able to get some fluffy hc or one-shot (whatever you prefer more) of keith kogane please ?, have a lovely day or night 💓💓

Hi anon! Thank you so much for your ask. I think i’ll make this a one shot if you dont mind, I’ve been writing lots of hcs lately and i’m already planning fluffy HCs for Keith to be posted later on this week! Hope you enjoy 💕

My home is with you[Keith Kogane]

Vld Keith x Gn reader

Synopsis: Keith has been gone for two weeks. You start to feel his absence, and the team feels it too. Soon enough, he comes back and takes you away to spend time with you in his own special way

Cw; fluffy Keith, brief and i mean briefff mention of intercourse. Sorta angst but not really? Just you being sad and missing Keith. Happy ending. Kinda lengthy i hope you dont mind. Not a lot of dialect!

Masterlist

To say you missed Keith was an understatement. Between saving conquered planets, keeping the castle stable, and even Keith’s marmora training, you had barely gotten the chance to really sit down and have a nice, quiet night with your boyfriend. Everything felt tense all the time. There was always a lingering sense of panic, never being able to fully relax while Zarkon, and now, Lotor still lurked. They were an ever present danger you never knew when they would strike next.

The one thing you missed the most about earth besides your family and friends was the sense of normalcy you once had. The routine you had set for your life. When you would come over to Keith’s house, an old, isolated and broken down shack in the desert, with creaky floors and dusty broken windows. The place needed some work, but that never mattered to you or Keith. The love that was brewing inside every single time you would pay him a visit is all you and Keith could care about. You missed the cool, quiet nights where you and Keith would sit on his roof, staring up at the very same constellations you’ve now flown by and seen up close. Talking about your dreams, sharing secrets. He would hold you close and you would kiss him, running your fingers through his dark hair, whispering soft words of affection to each other.

You loved waking up next to him after a night of passion, your body aching from the love you had made, every bite and mark on your skin fresh and still stinging. You would glance down at him, sleeping peacefully, hair a mess and adorning matching marks of his own, before getting up and fixing breakfast with whatever he had in the fridge, making a mental note to tell Shiro to take you grocery shopping for Keith later that day. While you cooked he would come up behind you, wearing an old, warn out pair of sweats, hair disheveled, eyes blinking tiredly, still low and half lidded from sleep, but he still looked as handsome as ever. You would sink into his embrace, swaying side to side as you tended to the food cooking on the stove.

Now you sat cold and alone in his room. You’d see Keith less and less as time went on, The Blade of Marmora taking up almost all his time. You understood how important this was to him, you were happy he found a group to belong to, and you know what he was doing was bigger than yourselves. But you’d also began to feel his absence, and it was taking its toll on you. You slept in his room and wore his clothes, those being the only comfort you had whenever Keith was gone for days, sometimes weeks on a mission. It was nothing compared to the feeling in your stomach when he would wrap his arms around you and bring you down to bed with him, the washed out smell of him on his clothes dulled in comparison to the lingering familiar scent of his shampoo, surrounding you every time he embraced you. Nothing could fill in for Keith, and everyone in the castle could see how much you missed him.

So when Keith came back to the castle (unbeknownst to you) Shiro sat him down to have a talk.

Shiro explained that he has known you for as long as he’s been taking care of him. He could tell you werent being yourself and he was concerned with Keith’s frequent absences. “The team needs you, Keith.” Shiro sighed, placing his hand on Keith’s shoulder. “But Y/n needs you the most. You’re the only piece of home they’ve got. Try to be here some more. If not for Voltron then do it for them.” Keith nodded to himself, looking down in shame. He missed you too, but he had been so wrapped up with the Blades that he barely had time to worry about how he felt, or even about how you felt. Guilt fell in his stomach as if he’d swallowed a stone. “I know Shiro, i’m gonna make it up to them, and you guys. I promise.”

You had been sitting in the dining hall chit chatting with Allura and Lance when he came in, you didnt notice at first, picking at your food goo and nodding here and there when Lance would try to include you in the conversation. Keith took your lack of awareness as a chance to study you. Your hair was messily tossed into a hair tie, just as he always loved it, and you were wearing one of his plain black shirts. Keith felt a swell of emotion in his chest when he’d seen your face. Uninterested and blank, missing the spark he’d always search for. He could see from here how he’s impacted you, and his heart felt like it would shatter into a million pieces.

“And then i was like what the quiznak- oh hey Keith! Youre back” Lance chirped, exchanging a knowing look with Allura. But Keith didnt respond, his eyes locked with yours as you whipped around, eyebrows almost raising into your hairline. “Keith! You’re here!” You cried as you launched yourself into his chest, wrapping your arms around him and nuzzling your face into him. Keith smiled wrapping his arms around you to steady you. “Yeah I am..sorry I was gone for so-“ you didnt let him finish, pressing your lips to his and wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him down to meet you. You kissed sweetly, melting into each other.

You barely noticed Allura and Lance snickering at you while they exited the room. Too concerned with eating your boyfriend’s face to care about the teasing you’re probably going to deal with later. After a few moments Keith pulled away, he held your wrists gently in his as he looked into your eyes with all the love he had for you, smiling softly at you. “I missed you so much. All I could think about was you. I- I brought you this.” He handed you a necklace, a small dog tag with your initials carved in the thin piece of metal, the other side had a messy shape you assumed was supposed to be a heart. “I engraved it myself. I found it while we were on a stake out mission. I hope you like it” he sounded so shy and nervous, it made your heart swell with emotion as you handed it back to him. “Can you help me put it on?” “Yeah” you turned your back towards him, beaming as he clicked the hatch for the necklace into place, pressing a soft kiss to the nape of your neck. “I love it baby, thank you” you turned back around to hold grab his hand, eagerly dragging him down the hall. “Cmon, I dont want to waste a second with you- i’m not gonna lie i’ve made a mess of your room but I hope you don’t mind!” “Actually, I want to take you out somewhere.” You stopped in your tracks and looked back at Keith. “Where?” “You’ll see it when we go. Cmon, put on a suit and meet me at the black lion’s hangar.” You nodded before walking into his room anyway, quickly getting changed and running down to meet him.

You held on to his seat as he took off, telling you to hold on tight as you flew out of the castle. You flew for about an hour, passing by vibrant planets and constellations. Pointing out meteors and stars as you passed by. Keith still wouldn’t tell you where you were going until you entered a big, green planet’s atmosphere. You looked over at him quizzically as you landed, the planet had nothing but short, green grass. You couldn’t hear the sounds of any creature or civilization. It was almost as if you were here completely alone. “Keith, where are we?” “This is planet Ogoria. Me and the blades made camp here when i was on that mission. It’s completely unhabited. & I brought you here to see something.” He explained, leading you off the black lion and into the open. “Cmon, lets find somewhere to sit.” Keith had brought with him a big blanket and two pillows, walking a few feet away from the lion before setting the blanket down on a particularly soft patch of grass. He threw the pillows on before sitting down. You followed suit, sitting down next to him, leaning into his body as he wrapped an arm around your waist.

“Look y/n, i’m really sorry i’ve been gone so much lately. The blades and I- well we’re getting close to finding something great” he muttered, glancing over at you. You looked away from him for a second, thinking over your next words. “ I know Keith. I’m not upset with you- I just miss how things used to be you know? I miss home. I miss our life together.” You sighed, gaze locked on your intertwined hands. “ I know, hun. I miss earth too. But we’re here now and we gotta try to make the best of it. This will be over sooner than we think. I feel it.” You looked up into his eyes, and he never looked so assured. You gave him a weak smile, scooting closer to him and pressing a peck to his lips. “Well, you’d better be right about that, Keith. Or i’ll drag us all back to Earth by force.” You giggled at the snort he let out, burrowing yourself deeper into his side, closing your eyes and relishing in his warmth.

“Y/n, look up at the sky”

You blinked your eyes open, having begun to nod off on Keith. When you looked up you let out a gasp. The sky was full of stars, it was as if the whole galaxy was displayed right In front of you in one place. “Keith its..its beautiful!” You whispered, unable to tear your eyes away from the scenery. “I know its nothing like the roof back home, but i figured it’s pretty close.” You tore your gaze away just to meet his, your eyes shining. “Keith I- i dont know what to say…I mean this is incredible!” you saw him smile, glancing up at the stars himself. “Lets get comfortable.” You both leaned down, lying on the pillows and drinking in the sight before you in comfortable silence. “Y/n..” you turned to look at him, his eyes were soft, full of adoration as he looked you over, burning every feature on your face into his mind. “I love you.. thank you for sticking with me.” You brought your hand up to his cheek, pressing a soft kiss to his nose. “I love you too Keith. I’ll always be with you, no matter what.” And so there you laid. Holding onto each other, catching up and telling each other dreams and secrets you harbored. It was nothing like how’d you been on Earth. But Keith made it special, and thats all that mattered to you.

Hopefully you enjoyed Anon! Thank you again for your submission. :> Notes and reblogs appreciated, asks and submissions welcome!! 💗💗

[pandora-writes-one-piece]

The Meet-Cute, Chapter 4 - Law

Source for the pic

Word Count: 4487 (these just keep getting bigger!)

Warnings: Fem!Reader, This is going to be a series featuring Ace, Sanji, Law, Zoro and Kid.

Special Warning: English is not my first language!

Summary: You had your life in Grand Line City all figured out. A wonderful job, a fiancé and a shared apartment. Until you found out he was cheating. Your father, Shanks, had a horse riding accident and you decided that this was just the right time to return home. You were expecting a peaceful, uneventful life back in the Calm Belt, but, fate had other plans.

Notes: I'm really sorry if I messed up some medical expressions. I tried to Google everything first!

| Chapter 3 - Zoro | |Chapter 5 - Sanji|

Law:

Your dad's grunts and wails have been increasing both in volume and in intensity, so you let out a long breath of relief as you finally park the truck at the clinic’s - thankfully almost empty - parking space. 

“Hey, dad” you say softly as your heart clenches at the sight of your father’s sweaty face and scrunched up brows. “I'm going to grab you a wheelchair and some help, okay?”

You take his grunt as a positive answer and run inside the clinic, only noticing your dishevelled state as you catch sight of your reflection in the glass doors: your white top is not white anymore and there's a tear at the bottom; your shorts have dirt and oil all over them; you don't even want to get started on your knees and legs, which are bruised and scraped from kneeling on the dirt; and your once perfectly braided hair is no longer perfect and it is barely braided. 

You sigh as you enter the clinic and wince in pain as you step your foot wrong. You definitely sprained it when you were with Zoro. 

You drag yourself to the front desk and the blonde girl gasps as she looks at your state. “Oh, my!” She gets up hastily and goes around the desk to reach you. “Are you all right?”

You nod frantically. “I'm fine, I'm fine. I-... Kaya?”

The girl looks at you with a furrowed brow but it doesn't take her more than five seconds before her mouth turns into an ‘o’ and she exclaims your name happily. “You're back! It's been ages!”

You laugh and nod. “Yes, we should catch up. After we get my father inside. He hurt his back and-...”

“Again?” You swear this time your ears start fuming. This has happened more than once and this doctor keeps sending him home? Oh, he is going to get a piece of your mind. “Shachi, Penguin, can you be darlings and bring Mr. S. inside? He's had another incident.”

You cross your arms against your chest and frown as you watch two men go outside with a wheelchair to bring your father inside. 

“They'll take him to Dr. Trafalgar. How about you, sweetie, are you alright? You don't seem well.” Kaya was your friend from kindergarten to half of the middle school, until she went home to be home-schooled. You lost touch with her even before you left town, but she has always been such a nice friend that you actually find yourself sharing a soft smile with the blonde. 

“I've had a few mishaps with the car before getting here.” You sigh. “I'll go freshen up in the bathroom and then I'll meet my dad. Is that alright?”

She nods and points you to the ladies’ room. You stand in front of the mirror and, as you're passing your fingers through your hair, trying - and failing - to detangle its knots, you realise you should eat something. You discarded breakfast on account of that stupid asshole and his selfies, and you and your father didn't have a chance to eat lunch. 

But first, you let out a deep sigh at your appearance, you should try to make yourself presentable. You don't want to chew the doctor's ears out looking like a hobo. 

Washing up as best as you can, massaging your sprained ankle, and redoing your braid - there's nothing to be done about the state of your clothes - you deem yourself somewhat presentable and, as you leave the bathroom, you see your father being wheeled to a room so you follow him quickly. 

“Daddy!”

“Buuuuuug! The doc gave me the good stuff!” He slurs and guffaws, opening his arm and almost throwing himself off the chair to hug you. Then he turns his voice into a whisper. “He stabbed a needle in ma butt!” Shanks uses his hand to hide his cheeky laugh before he continues. “Imma stay here for a while because they'll put some more drugs in my arm. And then we can go.”

What? IV and an injection? That's the whole treatment? No. Not on your watch. 

“Yeah, that's good dad, rest.” You smile at him and then turn to the man with the brown hair who is wheeling him. “Hey, where's the doctor's office? I need to speak with him.”

“Er… I… Hum… Dr. Trafalgar doesn't like unannounced visitors…” He stutters but you silence him with an angry look. “But if you must know, it's that door.” He then chuckles nervously and wheels Shanks to a room. 

You take a deep breath and stomp towards the office the attendant pointed out to you. After one step, you stop stomping because your ankle hurts too much, but you still make it to your destination. You knock lightly on the door, because you're not a savage, but start to tap your foot on the floor when you don't get an immediate answer. 

As you raise your fist for a second round of angrier knocks, you hear a deep ‘come in’ from inside the office and you open the door, wearing a frown. 

Which is quickly turned into a stunned expression because you didn't quite know what to expect from the doctor you've been hearing about, but this was not it. 

He's hot. 

There's no other way to describe the man in front of you. His black hair is tousled to perfection and you have to swallow a lump when he fixes his amber gaze upon your own. The frown and the furrowed brows only add to his allure, as you notice the tattooed forearms and knuckles. What an interesting choice of tattoos for a doctor, you can't help but think. 

They spell DEATH. 

The rest of his arms are covered by his white coat but you can't help but wonder if he has more ink on them. But that wondering soon stops, because he's already asked you twice about what you need and you have been transfixed in the same spot, drooling at him. 

“Right, hi! My father. Shanks! He was just here.” You exclaim as if that explains everything. 

“Yes, I know. I'm his doctor.”

He stares at you. “Oh, it’s my turn.” You stumble with your words and, is that an amused smirk in the stoic doctor’s face? Couldn't be, since it disappeared as soon as it appeared. “What is wrong with him? I keep hearing that he needs to come to the clinic more than once a week because of his back. That's not normal.” You seem to regain your cool and remember that you are there to get some answers from this man. 

He leans back in his chair and gestures for you to sit but you're too wound up to stay still, so you decline and start pacing the office. You're having a hard time breathing, so you start to fan yourself with your hand. 

“You're right, it's not.”

“What is it, then?”

His fingers entwine with one another as his gaze follows your form. You're limping, fanning both of your hands now, and you look like shit. You must be quite a spectacle.

“Doctor/patient confidentiality.”

“Are you kidding me?” Does your voice usually sound so far away? Because everything seems super bright and all the sounds are blending together. You stop and grip the back of the chair tightly, your knuckles turning white from the strength. 

“I'm not. Your father is sane and, other than his back, of good health. I have discussed treatment plans with him. He knows what he has and he knows what he needs to do in order to recover. To you, I can't say anything without his explicit permission.” You see him tense up as he stares at you and your behaviour. His brows furrow further as he turns his body to the side, as if he's about to get up. 

“But I'm his daughter!” You let out a ridiculous whine and start to gasp for air. 

“And I'm his doctor.” He gets up and approaches you. “Sit. You're so pale I can almost see through you. When was the last time you ate and-...”

That's the last thing you remember before waking up in a bed next to your father. 

-*-

You blink as your eyes adjust to the brightness of the room and take shallow breaths. Your head is throbbing and the constant beeping noise from the machine is not helping you at all. You realise that the beeping machine is hooked to you through your finger, as well as an IV attached to your arm. 

You raise your torso with a grunt and see that the cuts and bruises on your legs have been tended to, and your ankle is now sporting a not-so-fashionable elastic bandage with a pack of ice sitting on it. 

“Bug! You’re up!” Your dad flails his arm in the bed next to you to get you to look at him. “Law! Kaya! Someone!”

Pressing your thumb and index finger against the bridge of your nose, you sigh deeply. “Dad, dad, there’s a button to call the nurse next to the bed, please don’t scream.”

But it’s not necessary to use the button because Kaya enters the room with a concerned smile and gravitates towards you. “Sweetie, how are you?” Her voice is so gentle and kind that it forces an immediate smile from your lips. 

“My head is killing me. What happened?”

“Well, Dr. Trafalgar said it’s probably hypoglycemia - low blood sugar - he had some blood tests done, the results should be in at any moment. Have you eaten anything today?”

You nod and are about to say yes, of course, but the words don’t leave your mouth because they are not true. You really haven’t eaten anything today. “No.”

“Then, that’s definitely it.” Kaya giggles. “I could hear you yelling at Dr. Trafalgar from where I was sitting. He looked kind of flustered when he opened the office door, carrying you in his arms.”

You blush as your eyes widen. “What?”

“Well, you were unconscious, so he carried you to the examination room.” She giggles again and lowers her voice so your father doesn’t hear the rest. “Sweetie, you two looked straight out of a romantic movie. He was carrying you bridal style with a look of concern and you looked rather frail all curled up against his strong frame.”

You keep feeling your face getting hotter as the beep from the machine next to you grows louder and faster. Kaya has always loved romantic movies, so it’s no wonder she would think something silly like this. For all you know, Dr. Trafalgar was dangling you by one arm and you banged your head on all the thresholds before reaching this room.

It would explain the throbbing headache. 

“Nurse Kaya, I do hope you’re questioning the patient about medical history and the possible cause of this incident and not engaging in idle gossiping?”

You gasp alongside Kaya as Dr. Trafalgar approaches you both, a scowl on his face and his brows scrunched. How is his forehead not permanently wrinkled from all the pouts and frowns?

“No, I was just gossiping. I’m sorry.” Kaya giggles as you gasp at her truthful response. Is she allowed to speak like this with her superior? His stare at Kaya is so intense that, after a moment, she excuses herself and leaves you two alone with your father on the other bed, seemingly distracted by a soap opera on TV, until he spots the doctor next to you.

“Oh, Law! How is my baby girl?”

“Don’t call me that, dad.” You whisper between clenched teeth. Law? Is that the doctor’s first name?

“I’m going to examine her now, Mr. S. You can watch your show.” Shanks mouths a droopy ‘okay’ and turns back to the TV. He is still pretty high on drugs, apparently. 

“Have you eaten anything today?” His amber eyes stare at yours and you feel compelled to look at his name tag, instead, but then you are staring at his chest, and is that more ink coming out from the neck of the shirt he is wearing? Does he have a chest piece?

The beeping becomes faster and you switch back to the piercing eyes. “No, I haven’t.” You say, trying to distract yourself. 

“It’s certainly hypoglycemia, then. I will observe you.”

You nod and he removes the stethoscope from his neck, pushing it against your exposed cleavage. “Breathe in.” You take a deep breath. “Now out.” You do. He takes a step forward and tells you to lean forward as he repeats the process on your back. “In. Out.” 

He reaches for a small pen-like flashlight from his coat pocket and points it at your eyes. “Look up. Down. Now the other one, up. Down. Okay, that’s it.”

“That’s it? Aren't you going to say I'm a good girl?” You giggle for a second and then stop abruptly. Suddenly mortified as his eyes pierce into your own with an unreadable expression. “I'm sorry. That was stupid. Are there drugs here?” You point to the IV and as his stare doesn't waver, the beeping on the machine just keeps getting faster and louder. 

“That's just a dextrose and saline solution. No drugs. That was all you.”

The machine just beeps louder and louder and you grunt as you rip the monitor off of your finger, rendering the beeping into a continuous, even more annoying, beep.

“Stupid thing! I think that might be broken.” You snort, wail and hide your face in your hands. Can you be an even bigger idiot? Why are you acting like this? Aren't you supposed to be yelling at this doctor on account of your father? Where has all of your bravado gone? 

Out the window when you passed out and were carried like a princess by her knight in shining armour. As well as all your sane thoughts on feminism and women’s rights, apparently.

Crap. 

“Are you done?” He asks, deadpan as he turns off the monitor and the beeping stops. Now you’re frustrated again, but you simply pout and nod without making eye contact. 

He flips through some files and hums softly. “Your blood tests came out normal. This was a simple incident of low blood-sugar, next time try not to stay too long without eating anything, or, at least, if you’re going to fast, drink plenty of liquids, tea or water, preferably.”

“I wasn’t fasting.” You mumble between clenched teeth, your eyes locked on the chipped nail polish that had come out when you ripped the monitor that was attached to your finger. 

“Whatever weird diet you are on, then. Stop it. You look extremely healthy, you don’t need it.” Could that have been a veiled compliment?

“M’not on a diet.” Your mumble is even quieter.

“Sorry?”

“I’m not on any diet, or fasting, or anything. I just didn’t eat, that’s all.” This time you speak loud and cross your arms over your chest for emphasis.

“You didn’t eat the breakfast I cooked, bug? Is this still because of that jackass fiancé that cheated on you?” Shanks is literally screaming so you know that, by now, the entire clinic knows you’ve been cheated on. Yet you simply inhale, use the back of your hand to wipe away a stray tear and nod.

“I'm going to kill him.” Shanks simply declares as he tries to get up from the bed. “Law, help me kill him.”

You glimpse that amused smirk on the corner of his lips as he watches your father struggling with the bed covers. 

“I would really like to be your partner in crime, Mr. S. But, you see, I took an oath.”

That statement makes you giggle and he turns his gaze back at you, smirk still in place, and your heart does a weird thing that makes you catch your breath. 

“Shove that oath up your-... Ouch, dammit!” Shanks’ legs get tangled in the sheets and he almost falls as he tries to get up. 

“Mr. S. please calm down. We're not killing anyone today okay?” Dr. Trafalgar turns to you. “He seems pretty determined, maybe you should distract him with something less illegal?”

Is he funny as well? He seems so stoic and uptight but he's responding to your father's shenanigans with a dark humour that's making you laugh. 

“Daddy, lie back down on the bed, we will schedule another day to kill him, I promise.” You use your commanding tone and your father grunts before settling back down again. “Besides, since it's the three of us together, I would like to ask you, Shanks, what's the treatment that Dr. Trafalgar recommended for your back because the Dr. doesn't want to share that information with me.”

Your lips turn thin as you cross your arms over your chest. 

“That's a good lad, Law. Thank you.”

You glare at both of them but Dr. Trafalgar just raises his arms defensively. “Doctor/patient confidentiality!”

“Dad!” You huff at the same time as your father groans loudly.

“Just tell her, Law. Or I'll never hear the end of it. And I still have a murder to commit.” He mumbles. 

You turn your attention back to the doctor and try your best not to give him your ‘see you could've told me earlier and we would've avoided this whole situation’ look, but you definitely give him one of those. 

“Your father has a herniated disc in his spine. This occurs when the soft inner core of a disc between the vertebrae protrudes through the tough outer layer, putting pressure on nearby nerves.” 

Your brows tighten at all the medical jargon but you're understanding the essentials, so you nod for him to continue. 

“Mr. S. experiences stabbing pain that radiates along the path of the affected nerve and can lead to episodes of intense pain and sometimes a feeling of weakness or numbness in the affected area. Activities that cause strain on the spine can make it worse. Something like bending down or lifting stuff.”

You turn to your father with a glare in your gaze, your frown heavy and your eyes watery. “I told you you should rest!” Your words are but a sliver that escapes your lips. Dr. Trafalgar continues.

“When the medication hasn't provided enough relief, as it's your father’s case, surgery may be recommended. The procedure typically involves removing the herniated portion of the disc to relieve pressure on the nerves and alleviate symptoms.”

The silence stretches and evolves into a thick fog that encapsulates the three of you within. Your next words are measured carefully, but need to be asked. “Is it a complicated procedure?”

Of course it is! It's on the spine! 

“Each case is unique on its own. The complexity can vary based on factors such as the location and size of the herniation, as well as your father's overall health.”

“And the risks?” Your gaze alternates between the doctor’s professional stance and your father's slumped and defeated form.

“Like any surgery there are inherent risks of infections or allergic reactions. Specifically to this surgery, there's always the chance of the symptoms remaining or that another surgery might be necessary. There's also a more severe risk of nerve damage, which can cause temporary numbness or weakness. Yet, in this case, I would argue that the benefits far outweigh the risks.”

“Dad…” You start. 

“I don't want to discuss this right now.” He discards the use of your nickname and calls you by your birth name, declaring his seriousness of the matter. 

Your lower lip trembles and you nod at him letting out a very soft ‘okay’. Suddenly, realisation hits you. This was probably the reason why he had the horse riding incident. It was the cause not the consequence. 

Dr. Trafalgar places a very gentle hand over yours and you gasp at the shock of his touch. “I will send nurse Kaya to remove your IV and your father's so you can both be on your way and discuss this properly.” You nod. “If you have any questions, you can always call me or visit the clinic.” You nod again, suddenly exhausted as your body starts to complain of all the abuse it suffered today. 

He leaves calling out a ‘take care, Mr. S.’ to your father at the door. Silence permeates the room as you turn and let your feet dangle from the bed, your eyes focusing on the lying form of Shanks. 

“Dad,” you start. “I know you don't want to talk about this, and I will respect your wishes, but just hear my opinion, you don't have to say anything!” You add and your father takes a deep breath but doesn't say anything so you take that as consent for you to continue. “You're young and very active. These episodes keep you from living a normal, fulfilling life. Dr. Trafalgar said that the benefits are far more than the risks and I think you should consider the surgery.”

The door opens up and Kaya comes in with a bright hello and a smile. “Think about it, dad.” You finish as Kaya stands at your side with a tray of equipment to relieve you of all the paraphernalia attached to your body. 

“So, how are we feeling?” She asks you as she swiftly disconnects the empty IV from your arm. 

You sigh and give her a lopsided smile. “I'm feeling better, Kaya, thank you.”

“Aaaaaand?” She giggles at you and your brows scrunch at her. “Dr. Trafalgar?”

You feel your cheeks grow hot, even if you will them not to. “He's very competent. He explained to me everything about my father's condition. He's very professional. I'm impressed.” As you admit this, you realise that maybe you should apologise to him for your earlier behaviour but maybe he's with another patient now. 

“That's not where I was going.” She pouts at you. “He's single, you know?”

You wince as she takes out the needle in your vein and puts a bandaid over it. “That's… okay, I guess.” You don't really know what to say. Kaya seems to be trying to set you up, but you really don't want to think about men at this moment. 

“You're impossible!” She mutters your name as she shakes her head and removes the melted ice pack from your ankle. “There, you're done. I'll take care of your father and you both can leave.”

-*-

Penguin and Shachi insisted on taking your father to the car themselves and you were at the desk with Kaya, settling the payment and documents. You were exhausted. Physically and mentally. The news about Shanks had left you preoccupied and you were having trouble processing. 

As Kaya finished inserting some data on the computer, you sighed deeply and pressed the bridge of your nose with your index finger and thumb, closing your eyes and trying to suppress the growing throb in your head. 

Suddenly, you feel a presence on your side as a deep voice fills the air. “Are you feeling well?”

Opening your eyes and forcing a weary smile on your lips you slightly nod. “Just the culmination of all the exciting events of today, I guess. A throbbing headache.” You shrug. 

Dr. Trafalgar takes out a set of keys from his pocket and goes behind Kaya opening one of the cabinets and taking out two pills from one container. Then he goes to the water dispenser and fills a cup. 

“Give me your hand.” You open your palm as he sets the pills there, lightly brushing his long fingers against your skin. “Take them. It will relieve the pressure on your head.” You set the pills in your mouth. “Water.” He hands the cup to you and you drink it. Then he reaches into his pocket and takes out a wrapped onigiri. “Then eat this.” You reply with a meek ‘okay’. “Good girl.”

He smirks and you nearly choke to death on another sip of water. Then you burst out laughing and you notice that the smirk is still adorning his lips. Surprisingly, he laughs along with you and you are forced to admit that the way his deep voice slurred with the words ‘good girl’ made your knees buckle and your body tingle in very unholy places. 

“I'm sorry.” You start, as soon as the laughter dies down. “For overreacting earlier.”

“It's alright. I will blame your reaction on your abnormal state.” He says cheekily and you smirk back at him. 

“By the way, do you carry all your fainting patients in bridal style?”

He scratches the back of his head and looks down, seemingly embarrassed. “Just the cute ones.” The blush spreads from your cheeks to your nose and you're left speechless. Where had the stoic doctor gone? There seemed to be a cheeky flirt in his stead, did he have a twin?

“Thank you, Dr. Trafalgar, for everything.” You decide to finish the conversation there since you're liking it way too much, which can turn very dangerous. 

He nods. “It's Law.” You raise your brow at him. “My name, call me Law.”

“Law. Thanks.” His smirk turns into a slight smile that traps your gaze as you breathe slowly. Single, right? How? 

Kaya’s soft harumph seems to wake you both from your trance and Law excuses himself with work he has to do. “Don't be a stranger.” He adds and then wishes you and your father well before leaving. You sigh as you turn to Kaya, who's watching you with a knowing look and a very silly smile. 

“This was rom/com happening in real life, I swear. Girl, I'm dying here. You need to go on a date with him!” She squeals. “I don't think I've ever heard him laugh!”

“I'm not going on any date, Kaya.” You say, deadpan as you accept the receipts she hands you. “I'm off men at the moment, thank you very much.”

“Yeah we all heard your father. Sorry about your fiancé thing… Though maybe it was better to find out before the wedding actually happened!”

You nod. You couldn't agree more, actually. “I'm going to go now. Dad and I both need rest.”

You and Kaya exchange phone numbers, not wanting to fall out of touch with her, and wave goodbye. The exhaustion is taking its toll on you and you still have to try and convince your father to agree to the surgery. Maybe you'll leave that fight to another day, though. 

As you walk to the truck you unwrap the onigiri and take a small bite. It tastes homemade. Delicious. 

As scrumptious as Dr. Trafalgar Law, actually. 

No, nope. Not gonna happen. You shake your head as you take your seat ready to face the challenge of driving with a stick yet again. And somehow, between driving with a stick and trying to avoid thinking about Dr. Law, the first one seems like an easier challenge.

[yougavemeyourheartyouknow]

Love me or hate me, both are in my favor (Miguel O’Hara x Fem! Reader [HS Academic Rivals AU])

Hiii! New day new chapter! Sorry it took so long to get out, my birthday is in Sunday so I’ve been busy. Not proofread, enjoy!

Cursing, slight mentions of wounds.

Word count: 2k

Series Masterlist Series playlist

Chapter 8: No, I don't wanna fall in love with you.

—

Swinging around the city always helped clear Miguel's head, finding it very calming compared to the very chaotic hustle and bustle of Neuva York. From the top of the Empire State, everyone looked like ants, and it gave him the ability to de-mask himself without the possibility of anyone finding him. It was one of the many perks of being Spider-Man, the ability to hide away above the rest of the world.

Although, usually the breathtaking skyline against orange and pink hues that painted the sky was enough to serve as a temporary distraction before he had to return to his usual routine, but it seems that today’s events were too much for his mind to just drop. With a heavy sigh, he ran his gloved hand through his now slightly disheveled brown locks, gripping his mask with his free hand.

God…

As if you hadn't already dug some sort of permanent spot into his life, now you were completely messing with his mind without even knowing it.

He shouldn’t have kissed you back. Not because he didn’t want to, because if he was being completely honest with himself… maybe he did. But, you’ve never liked him, you’ve never liked Miguel. He’s convinced himself his whole life that he disliked you, not just because of your constant battle at attempting to one up each other grade wise, but because you both were far too stubborn and egotistical to be able to sit in a room with each other without squabbling. He’s never been partially nice to you, sure, but neither have you to him. He hated you.

Right?

He wasn’t so sure anymore. But he knew for certain how you felt about him. You loved Spider-Man, not Miguel. And although he knows he’s being a bit selfish, and only going to hurt himself in the process, he was gonna keep it that way. He’d take all the snarky comments and glares you shoot his way, if it meant being able to kiss you again. He’d shatter the entire universe in his bare hands if it meant for you to keep kissing him the way that you did.

—

“O’Hara, hey- are you deaf now or something?” Your hand landing on his shoulder pulls him out from his thoughts, he’s been in them more often than usual lately he glanced over his shoulder to send you a quick glare before turning back down at his notebook. His eyes scan over the words on the page but none of them registered in his mind. He felt your finger tapped on his shoulder. “You can’t keep ignoring me. We have to work on this project, you know.” You huffed quietly, your eyes drifting from the back of his head, to the front of the class to make sure the teacher wasn’t watching and back again. “You’ve been skipping out on practice.” This was the second time today you’ve tried to get him to talk to you, and still he doesn’t give you anything but a glare, the cold shoulder, it was insufferable. The biggest thorn in your side had decided to just remove itself at the worst time, two weeks away from the presentation of the scene project.

With a huff, you sat fully in your seat once more and looked back down at your own book. Just deciding to attempt to catch him after class again, but the more the time ticked away the more your agitation towards him grew. This was somewhat odd behavior for him. He hasn’t flat out ignored you since you had been in the 7th grade, the most you’ve gotten out of him as of recent is his usual glare or scowl. You’d never admit to his face, but him ignoring, it almost felt like torture. You have no idea what you did for him to suddenly give you the cold shoulder, a week ago at the aquarium before your sudden graze with death, you had thought that you both somewhat gotten along for once. Now he goes out of his way to dodge you in the halls or leave your texts on read, you couldn’t help but feel that same small sinking feeling in your chest that you felt when you first tried talking to him in the 6th grade only for him to scoff and turn up his nose at you. If it weren’t for the fact you had to work on this stupid project together, you probably wouldn’t be so persistent.

Or, at least that’s what your telling yourself.

—

8:45pm.

Miguel was currently an hour and 15 minutes late to yours and his study session, not like he showed anymore anyways. At least he could justify the nagging voice in the back of his brain telling him to go to your dorm by telling himself that patrolling was a better use of his time and resources, and way less of a headache then having to deal with you when you’re pissed off.

Thankfully, the streets of Neuva York were relatively calm, no crazy mastermind villains trying to take over the world, just a few pity crimes here and there, not enough for him to actually break a sweat but just enough to not be able to call it a night just yet. Small vandalism, an attempted mugging, helping an elderly lady cross the road, small more simpler tasks. With each one ignoring the small inconsistent yet slightly irritating buzzing that his phone was releasing in his suit pocket.

11 missed calls, and 24 unseen messages. His gloved thumb slowly scrolled through the preview of the messages as he took a small break on top of a random counter rooftop, his free hand pulling his mask up to just above his nose before going to grab the BLT sandwich from the bodega and taking a bite out of it. Each chew and swallow becomes slower the more he nears finishing the sandwich. Telling himself he’d finally suck it up and face the music, the migraine inducing headache that was your scolding.

As he downs the last bite, he clicks on your contact, finger itching to hit the call button.

“Help!”

“Shit…” He mumbled to himself as he quickly pulled himself up on his feet, stashing his phone away once more before his mask was back over his mouth.

He’ll call you afterwards, he tells himself.

—

9:38pm.

He flaked. Again.

“I’m not surprised, still disappointed though.” You mumble to yourself as you go to change out of your school clothes and into a nice pair of sweats and a sleeping shirt, placing your headphones on to listen to some music, it’s still early enough so you decided to get some reading in. Stretching your arms over your head, before going over to your bookshelf, your fingernails tapping the spine of each book until you reach the one you wanted to read.

Setting back into your bed, after turning off your overhead light and turning on your lamp instead, you finally open up on the page that you left off.

“Now you must have a good long holiday!”

“I intend to.”

Something in his resolute tone made Jo look up quickly to find him looking down at her with an expression that assured her the dreaded moment had come, and made her put out her hand with an imploring, “No, Teddy. Please don’t!”

“I will, and you must hear me. It’s no use, Jo, we’ve got to have it out, and the sooner the better for both of us,” he answered, getting flushed and excited all at one.

Tap tap.

“Say what you like then, I’ll listen,” said Jo, with a desperate sort of patience.

Laurie was a young lover but he was in earnest, and meant to ‘have it out’, if he died in the attempt, so he plunged into the subject with characteristic impetuousity, saying in a voice that would get choke now and then, in spite of manful efforts to keep it steady…

Tap tap.

“I’ve loved you ever since I’ve known you, Jo, couldn’t help it, you've been so good to me. Now I’m going to make you hear, and give me an answer, for I can’t go on so any longer.”

“I wanted to save you this-“

Tap tap.

“Is someone throwing rocks at my window or something?” You quickly close your book after rebookmarking your page, trying to wave off the idea, your on one of the higher levels of the building. So being able to accurately hit the window over and over would be difficult.

Placing your book on the side of your bed, you get up and go to draw your curtains back, only to be met with a familiar blue and red mask popping up in your window pane. Your brows shot up and biting back the urge to let out a small startled yelp, your hands made quick work to unlock your window and open it up to allow him to climb in, trying his best to not knock over all the trinkets on your bedside table. Trying your best to stifle your laugh as you watch him crawl all over the tiny surface like a cat.

“I didn’t realize we were at that level, Spider-Man.” You joked, letting a small chuckle slip past your lips as he finally stumbled onto his feet and off the counter. Your laughs only increased as you watched the red lines on his mask narrow as he seemingly glared at you.

“Says the one who kissed me.”

“Touché.” You said only you were able to eventually stop laughing, allowing your eyes to finally scan over him. Your face quickly contouring into one of concern when you finally noticed the large tear on the side of his left hip, along with a bleeding bash. You must have not noticed it by the way he was bending over. Your hand flys to cover your mouth as you stare at it, it wasn’t life threatening, but it sure as hell looked painful. “Oh my god, what happened!?”

“Oh this? Pff, it’s nothing” His left hand goes to cover the gash from your view as his right hand goes to wave the question of, his tone nonchalantly as if he had just gotten a paper cut. Now it’s your turn to glare at him.

“Can you let me help you patch it up at least?” You asked, but you were already guiding him to sit on your half done bed. “I’m not a medic or anything, but I can at least clean it up so it doesn’t get infected.” You added, going towards your bathroom to search for your first aid kid that all the dorms had.

Once you found the kit, and didn’t hear any protest from the spider, you made your way down to your knees to his left and began to clean up the wound, murmuring a silent apology when he winced from the rubbing alcohol making context with the wound.

“…You must get tired of having to always clean yourself up and restitch your suit all the time huh?” You finally broke the silence,tossing the blood and alcohol soaked cotton in your small trash can.

“It’s…yeah, sorry about, badgering in and stuff, I wouldn’t have stopped by if I didn’t think I couldn’t make it home.” His admission made your heart sink a bit, but it wasn’t completely true, his building was another few minutes of a swing from yours, and his brother always helped him clean up after a nasty fight.

Miguel just wanted an excuse to see you and talk to you again.

“You’ve saved my life twice, Spider-Man. You are always welcome to stop by if you need help.” You tell him ernstly as you wiped off the last bit of blood off his hip, before going to place wrapping on the area.

“Thank you…” He whispered, his tone just as gentle as it was the first time he spoke to you when he reassured you he wouldn’t let you go.

“Of course.”

—

Taglist: @famouscattale @oharasfilipinawife @mxltifxnd0m @loser-alert @homewreckingwreck @dumb-gemini @cowboylikeevie @thedevax @codenameredkrystalmatrix

[goblinpuppy35]

Out of Place Together

University Remus x Male Reader

(Previous Chapter) - Part 6

Summary: An academia-core themed story about the Marauders during their final year of university in the Muggle world. Soon after meeting each other  Remus begins to fall for one of Sirius' friends Y/N another shy student.

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

As Y/N's eyes opened in a blur from the early morning light, he was amused to see him and Remus were in the exact same position from the night before. Facing one another, their foreheads touching while their arms draped over each others sides. Gazing up towards the window Y/N could see small dropets of condensation running down the panes. A blurry mixture of yellow and orange shone through the misty glass, bathing the curly head of Remus still sleeping next to him. He was incredibly still, only the faint fall and rising of his chest indicated he was alive, he had the appearance of an statue, with chips across the stone work, all over his body. Even while wearing pajama bottoms and a shirt the bare skin on display was littered with marks. Being of such close proximity now Y/N could even make out a faded scare etched in from his eyebrow  down across his eyelid. Y/N knew he was the most beautiful man he had ever met and now he was waking up for the second time in this man's bed. 

The night before had a dreamy haze to it as Y/N thought back. Though in contrast to his normal unconscious state, the nightmare at the start. At the pub. With all the humiliation. Subsided into the sweetest dreams of being saved by those closest to him and then being in Remus' bed. In his arms, feeling his hands on his jaw, asking Y/N to be with him.

"Your miles away!"

Y/Ns mind was instantly drawn away from the memory from two weeks ago and brought back to the present. Where he was standing out on the street of the Marauders shared house. Looking down next to him Y/N observed that a old suitcase whose strained laches on impact with the hard pavement only seconds ago had burst open, stilling the contents of stained bedding and unwashed clothes down the street right next to his feet. Down the street was a dishevel clump of boxes and half open bin bags full of household objects. In Y/Ns peaceful reflection he had noticed none of this while carrying his lunch he'd picked up from the local café.

Y/N looked up to the window of the house from where the plummeting suitcase had ascended from and he was met with the face of James. James smiled down at the puzzled looking Y/N, half because he was glad to see his friend and half out of relief the flying suitcase he had chucked had not knocked him down thus adding splattering of tea and sandwich fillings to the tapestry of mess currently down their street. Just then the front door opened and shut promptly, 'Ah there you are' Sirius called out to Y/N cheerly walking towards him. Sirius stood next to Y/N and stared down the street with his hands on his hips with a glow of pride around him. "He's finally gone.' Sirius said as he took Y/Ns cup of tea and started to drink it, an action Y/N has become well accustomed to when being around his beloved friend. He also knew that for a while Peter was expected to move out. Shortly after the outburst at the pub apparently there had been several more disagreements within the house, drugs in the house being the final straw which resulted in James having to give Peter a definative choice. Either get your act together or get out. He went with the latter. "Two nights ago he just fucks off. Didn't even say goodbye and leaves all his stuff still here. We are clearing it out now." Sirius said as another loud thump of a bin bag landing on the ground followed. A majority of Y/N still felt really bad about the situation. He knew Peter meant a lot to the others with all their shared history, but clearly things had been pushed to the very edge. Regardless of their multiple awkward interactions Y/N did hope that where ever Peter ended up he would be okay.

He then watched as James with some effort squeezed a large cardboard box out of the window. It landed with a crash. Several vinyl records made daring escape and began to roll down the street. 'That's the las of it' James heaved, hanging his upper body out of the window 'god im exhausted'. 'Here you go' called up Sirius taking Y/Ns half wrapped sandwich out of his hand and with surprising aim hauled it upwards. Before any other emotion Y/N was simply impressed the other Marauder was able to catch it.

"Can you stop stealing my lunch. Please!" Y/N explained extending out his now empty hands. "Causing trouble?" a charmingly low smooth voice asked from the front doorway, now open again. A warm feeling emitted from Y/Ns chest and his eyed softened as he saw Remus' tall figure resting against the frame. Due to coursework piling up in both of their subjects the pair had not see each other for a few days. The sense of relief their faces expressed to one another in this moment made clear that this was already too long of a separation. "We were just about to tell him!" Sirius exclaimed excitedly, bouncing on his heels as he gave back a practically empty cup of tea to Y/N. "Why don't we show him" called out James from above before disappearing back in through the open window into the room. Remus has a unusual smirk across his scared face as well which peaked Y/Ns curiosity further, he stared at him waiting for an explanation. All Remus uttered was 'Come inside' as he lifted himself off the door frame allowing the others to walk into the house. Sirius went ahead. While Y/N walked under Remus' outstretched arm he greeted him quietly, still unable to submerge his flushed face. "Hey" Remus whispered back before sinking down kissing Y/N tenderly on the lips before directing him to go upstairs. Even an everyday kiss from Remus made Y/Ns legs feel weak as he climbed up the stairs. He met James and Sirius on the landing next to Peter's rooms door.

Y/N slowly walked in then observed the room in front of him. It clearly had been emptied out recently with bluetac stains from posters still on the walls and several dark marks across the carpet. There was also an undeniable smell of beer lingering in the room, hence why the window was left open. Several fresh houseplants had been placed on the windowsill, they softly swayed in the morning breeze. On the opposite end of the room was a second hand wooden desk and chair which was were Y/Ns interested peaked for draping over the chair was a lose navy over shirt. It belong to him. He had left it in Remus' room the last time he was over and had intended to pick it up today. Walking over he lifted it off the chair and then stared back at the three guys crowded in the door way. James and Sirius looked as if they were about to burst with smug excitement. Remus while smiling was carefully watching Y/Ns face while he pulled at the end of his moustache. Remus then saw Y/N confused face grow shocked and white and then frown. 'There. He's figured it out' Remus thought.

'Wait guys..' Y/N trailed off holding his shirt tightly in his hands. 'Before you say anything its completely perfect!' blurted out Sirius marching into the room. 'We are walking distance to the theatre and university library and split between all of us the rent will be the same as what you were paying before and you get the spectacular bonus of not having brain dead obnoxious housemates anymore'. 'Well maybe just one' James chimes in grinning towards Sirius. As Sirius continued to list all the benefits of the room and the house Y/N only half listening scanned the rest of the room. On the floor near the window was a large spacious single mattress with some bedding thrown over it.

"I figured you'd like your own space" Remus' low voice came from behind, his fingers delicately brushing up Y/Ns arm, 'Though I hope this wont deter you from sleeping in my bed. I've grown very fond of it', the taller man's hands brushed up to Y/N's shoulders and rested upon them, his head craned down and lightly kissed the curve of Y/N's neck. Y/N instant response was the smile from the contact however his mind felt as of it was in a sinking hole. "Are you guys sure about this" he finally murmured. "We talked about this weeks ago actually" James explained "Just took a fucking ages to get Peter to leave. Your one of our favourite people Y/N and that's not just Mooney's opinion so of course we'd love you to move in with us'. At last the words were said out loud and Y/N felt his chest rise and then instantly dip. He then become horribly aware that the others were all looking at him expectantly. 'I ... I will need to think it over' and without missing a beat Y/N escaped out of the door way to the bedroom. This took James and Sirius by surprised, staring at each other for a moment Sirius then started to try and follow Y/N. 'Don't.' declared Remus, not looking at either of his friends but looking off into a vague section of the door. He was pulling on the edge of his moustache again, 'give him a minute'.

Y/N had made his escape out of the kitchen door into the houses small back garden. The cold air against his skin was reassuring. A few moments later the same door was carefully opened again. He knew it was Remus. 'Your panicking' Remus stated in a matter of fact tone, 'no I'm not' Y/N replied unconvincingly. The fact that Remus could always to deduce how Y/N felt would annoy him if it wasn't one of his still new boyfriend many wonderful qualities. 'Do you not like the room?' Remus asked, 'no' replied Y/N sharply, 'because we've tried everything to get rid of that smell, i think it will just go in time'. 'No. I mean the room is perfect' Y/N explained disheartened. After a short pause Y/N sighed.

"I'm worried we haven't thought this through." Y/N finally huffed out as he continued to pass around the small patio, too tense to venture out into the grass. Remus rested his tall frame against the open door way and watched him. " What if you don't like me!" Y/Ns question made Remus laugh lightly "but I do." "Sure, but we've known each other for a few weeks and now your asking me to move in, you know nothing about me. What I'm like. How I act on a day to day basis." Y/N was struggling to pull out a cigarette out of its packet as he paced. "I like what I've seen so far." Remus replied calmly. "I'm a terrible morning person. I leave half drunk mugs everywhere. I make a complete mess in the kitchen when I cook. I snore if I've been drinking the night before". " I know." Remus couldn't help but smirk as he pulled out his own cigarette. Y/N wished he could glare at him but that curve across his face made him look so handsome. "I can be jealous and insecure over little things. I can be a mixture of indecisive and hyper fixated all at once. My self esteem is six feet under the ground we stand on". "We better get digging then" Remus said as he blew out a cloud of smoke upwards and then smiled kindly at Y/Ns stressed face. Taking a short intake of his own cigarette Y/N huffed rather then exhaled, "Are you just going to be fine with anything I say here?". "Well it's working so far." Remus' causal demeaner was starting to get to Y/N, "Seriously Remus". The werewolf took a moment to stare at his boyfriend. Small specs of rain highlighted against the lit window and doorway around him. "Do you think it's possible you are trying to find a reason for this to not work because you don't think you deserve it?" Remus' question was met with an even longer pause from Y/N. He has been about to put his almost finished cigarette to his quivering lip but then stopped. Stood very still before resting against the brick wall and along with a long sigh slide down the wall until he was sitting on the stone floor.

Even in this moment of uncertainty Y/N greatly cherished how he knew Remus' silence at this time was simple him patiently waiting for him to figure out where his mind was and find the right words. "I worry that I worry too much." another one of Remus' husky chuckles escaped his pressed lips "there's a statement". Annoyed Y/N found himself smirking too before he resumed his line of thought. "I worry that I'll worry so much about whether this is the right thing and whether I'm right for you that I will eventually ruin this honest to god perfect situation I've stumbled into with you. I'm worried I'll lose it." Finishing his cigarette Remus stamped it out and then walked out of the door way. Standing in front of Y/Ns folded up body his lowered himself into a squad in front of him. "Instead of worrying about losing it. Be happy in the now because we have it. And why is this all on you. I  want you to like me just as much" Remus said softly, taking his hand and running it through Y/Ns Y/H/C hair, "I know I can be quiet and in my own world most of the time, I just hope I can let you see that you truly are the centre of my world. Everything I promised you before is still true. I still pray to very corner of the universe I am able to maintain them so I don't lose you." Y/n leaned into the hand now pressing against his cheek. The rain left shining droplets across the tops of their heads.

Suddenly Y/N started laughing to himself, looking down at the floor before back up at Remus. He couldn't believe what he was about the say, 'A are we in love?'. Resting his head on Y/Ns forehead and Remus smiled and then chuckled back, "yeah I think we are".

'So are you joining our insane household or not!' came an unceremonious cry from above. Both men tilted their heads up the back wall of the house to see Sirius leaning out of the window now belonging to Y/Ns new room. "Well if you can't beat them join them.

[crazyunsexycool]

How would Steve react if he and reader were to sleep together atm and he doesn't fire her because he's so hooked, but he sleeps with another maid for whatever reason and fires her, but this maid knew he slept with reader and didn't fire her. She's so mad and shouting about why didn't reader get fired and calling her names/being rude about her etc 👀

I’m turning this into a drabble….

Warnings: smut-ish, mentions of sex, bit of asshole Steve, threats are made

Steve was fucked.

He finally got what he wanted, you. Instead of finally satisfying the long standing need that you had created, sleeping with you only made Steve want more. He wasn’t even sure how it happened. You were in his room making his bed and in the blink of an eye Steve is hovering over you and caging you in. His lips are on your neck while your nails dig into his back. It’s like you’re claiming what’s yours even if you don’t know it yet. It didn’t help that you sounded so pretty when you begged for more.

When it was over and your breathing was back to normal you grabbed all your clothes and disappeared into a spare room to make yourself more presentable. You didn’t even spare a glance at him as you left but he could see the worry on your face. Steve sent Coulson a message and told him that under no circumstance would he allow you to be let go.

~~~~~~~~

The following days had been tense between you and Steve. It didn’t help that the new maid, Kate, kept flirting with Steve and he would openly flirt back. You couldn’t understand why, when you went in to talk to Coulson he said he was under strict instructions that you weren’t fired and he wouldn’t accept your resignation. Especially if he was going to continue acting like he had before. So you you just had to grin and bare it.

It was about a week after you and Steve had been together that you heard him and Kate in his office. He’d never done that before. Anytime he slept with someone it was up in his room, maybe he wanted you to hear it. You kept yourself busy and fighting off the tears. It wasn’t until a yelling match started that you reappeared to see what was going on.

Kate stood in the middle of the living room, her hair disheveled and uniform a crumpled mess.

“You can’t just fire me. I’ll sue you for sexual harassment.”

“It’s in the contract you signed so is an NDA. So you sue me and I’ll own you.” Steve shot back.

By now Bucky, Sam, Dom, Coulson and a few other men were watching the fight. When Kate noticed she looked around and saw you standing in the door way. Your presence made her see red.

“Why didn’t you fire her? You fucked her last week and she’s still here.”

Everyone’s attention was on you and it caused your cheeks to burn with embarrassment.

“What is she your favorite whore? Are you going to pass her around to the rest of your friends first.” She turned to you with a twisted smile. “How does it feel to know you aren’t good enough for him? You are just some fuck toy form him and his friends.”

“Fuck off Kate.”

“Oh she speaks. I thought you were only good at being his dumb fucking slut. How stupid do you have to be if you think he’d-“ she doesn’t get to finish what she was saying because Steve had pulled her away from you. His palm covers her mouth as his fingers dig into her cheeks. The hold is strong and the look in his eye is terrifying.

“Don’t you ever fucking talk to her like that again or I’ll cut your tongue out myself. You should be so lucky to be in her presence. Now get the fuck out of here. The only dumb slut here is you.” Venom dripped from every word and it was enough to scare Kate and have her scramble to leave the house for good. “What the fuck is everyone looking at, get back to work.”

His eyes land on you but the hardness is gone. Steve takes a step closer to you but Bucky pulls him away and Dom escorts you to the kitchen while glaring at his boss.

~~~~~~~~

After taking a moment to calm down Steve walks into the kitchen. His intention was to make sure you were ok but of course you weren’t. Why had he been so stupid? You sat at the kitchen table with a glass of water in front of you. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen you so upset.

“Dom give us a minute.”

“No, I don’t think I will.” Dom stand between you and Steve in order to shield you from the man.

“I said get out.”

“And I said I wasn’t going too. You’ve done enough already.”

“I’m your boss you’ll do as I say.”

“As if I give a flying fuck. Walk out now Rogers.”

“It’s ok Dom, let him get this over with.” You said from behind him. He reluctantly walked out of the kitchen but didn’t go to far.

Steve knelt down beside you but you wouldn’t look at him.

“I’m so sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize, you’re the boss you do what you want.”

“You didn’t deserve that.”

You turn to look at him, now with that fiery gaze he loved so much. “You’re right I didn’t deserve that but I should have known better too. You’re a man whore and I didn’t know what I was expecting to happen. You got what you wanted from me.”

“I thought I could get you out of my system. All I can do is think about you all the time. It was different with you and I didn’t know what to do with that feeling. I though I could just get over you if I was with someone else.”

“I’ll make it easy for you then, I quit.” You stood up and headed for the changing room.

“Wait you can’t just leave. That was a mistake.”

“No, being with you was a mistake. I never want to see you again.” You say, leaving him alone in the kitchen.

Dom walks in with a scowl on his face followed by Bucky and Sam.

“I should cut off your dick for what you’ve done.” Don says.

Steve ignores the older man and walks out. His only thoughts now are how he could possibly get you back. Not only to the house but back in his bed and keep you there permanently.

[runningthroughthegarden]

sometimes friends fall out for the right reasons pt2 - rowan laslow

Summary: After a quick love confession both of your lives begin to crash down. Until you both realize being together will always fix everything. Well almost everything.

Word count: 971

It's been a couple days since your fight with Rowan. 

You've spent the last two days at school completely ignoring him. You couldn’t bear to see him. Your eyes were constantly puffy. Hair a mess. You barely even spoke. Everyone around you knew something was wrong but they had no idea what happened. 

What you didn't know was that Rowan was going through the same thing.

Rowan’s pov - 3 days ago

As I rush down the steps of the Nightshade library, I can hear my mother's voice ringing through my head. I have to get to the bottom of whatever the hell this Wednesday girl is going to do. I'm going to be the one to save this school.

I quickly rip out the page I've been desperately searching for.

I'm already forming my plan as I exit the library, carefully planning my next move.

I look up to sky, noticing the stars. Fuck.

I know I was supposed to me y/n but I was finally putting together the missing pieces of the puzzle. Right now, this is the most important thing. This school needs a hero and it's me.

-

I wake up to find Xavier already gone. Thank God. I can't stand to be around anyone right now and I need to figure out when I'm going to kill Wednesday. A couple hours go by, and I start to realize how difficult this is going to be. But who said being a hero was easy.

I feel like I'm going crazy. My powers are out of control, and I can't even control my emotions. All I can think about are my mother's words.

I hear a knock at the door and quickly hide the papers scattered across the floor.

I open the door to see y/n. She angrily pushes past me asking why I didn't meet up with her. No one can know what I'm doing so I use the same excuse.

I stand there silently as my best friend yells at me. I seriously can't take this shit right now. I have so many other things to worry about and this isn't one of them.

Something in me finally snaps and I start yelling back.

"Jesus Christ, I don't need this right now y/n!! You have no fucking idea what I've been going through. I'm SO sorry I missed our stupid little date, but I have actual shit I need to get done. And I don't need you following me around like a lost puppy. Just leave me the hell alone" I yell.

The next she says changes everything.

"And to think I was in love with you" she sighs scoffs.

I feel my whole body weaken at that simple sentence. I feel my eyes soften. I have waited for this moment for so long.

That's when my mother's words replay in my head. I can't.

I snap back. I back her into the wall just to feel close to her one last time.

"Forget about your stupid little crush and get out of my room. I don't need you"

She rushes out of my room. I throw myself against my bed. "It had to be done" I think.

Present day

I am going to kill Wednesday the night of the festival.

It's taken the past couple of days to figure out but I'm ready.

I've noticed how horrible y/n looks. A part of me feels terrible but I know it was the right thing to do. I had to cut off ties with her at some point. The love confession was sort of a setback. But I don't need this right now. She hates me, which is perfect. Now she won't get hurt. I can only protect her in that way.

y/n pov

The rest of the week was shit. It went the same as previous days, crying and ignoring Rowan. It's Friday night and I'm spending it in bed watching sad romcoms.

I was just about to fall asleep when I hear a frantic knocking at my door.

I open it to see an even more disheveled Rowan. Before I can say anything, he walks through the door, pacing around my room. He's hyperventilating with tears in his eyes.

"Rowan what the hell is wrong with you?!?" You questioned with concern.

"I'm going crazy" he says stopping in front of you.

"What do you mean Row?" you say confused.

"My mom. And the book. and the school. and Wednesday." He says pulling at his hair.

"Row please just calm down for a second" you say resting your two hands on his cheeks.

You stare into his eyes while his breathing slows down.

He looks like he's having a battle inside his head. Thinking of what to say or do next.

"I'm in love with you" he confesses.

You stand there in shock, still holding his face in your hands. "What?" you question.

He stays silent, moving his hands to cup your own.

"But-but at your dorm you told me to get out and. and you. you said all those-"

You were quickly cutoff by Rowan smashing his lips against yours. Every ounce of emotion was put into this one kiss. Years of secretly longing for each other. You both began to smile into the kiss.

"I've loved you for a long time" Rowan says, resting his forehead against yours.

"Me too" you whisper.

"I'm sorry I said all those things. I don't know what's been going on with me. But I know whenever when I'm with you, my troubles don't seem so significant. Will you go the festival with me tomorrow?" he questions.

"Of course" you respond with a soft smile.

And there you two were. Two teenagers in love. Hands cupping each other. Foreheads gently resting against each other.

You don't know what tomorrow has in store... but you can only hope for the best.

A/N spoiler!! tomorrow has absolutely NOT the best in store.

tag list! @akikoslippers @stxrg4zer @theesuckerforthe80s @starrypoti0ns @kota-log @pennyluvr @ilikefictionmen @ykyouluvme @yy4ngj @oprvah @ify0useethisn0youdidn0t @wrmmi @seenit

[mewintheflesh-2]

Nightsky cursed to fall into obscurity as he’s sent one hundred million years back into the past, nobody will remember him, he’ll be more lonely than ever. He’ll die soon after like enough. Climate shock for one, and his stomach woudlnt be able to handle any food he may find there. And who knows about the fucming water. How long has the earth been around again lmaoaoaoaoaoaoaoaoaoao Nightsky’s going to die. :( The only ones who will remember him will remember him in a bitter malice.

I really. Don’t want to make this canon in my canon. Like. At all. Unless he can somehow make it back to the present?

cursed to die 100 million years in the past of a world that’s not your own. Alone. Starving. Dying. Cold. Dying. Dehydrated. Dying. Decomposing. Dying. Why were you even here? What even happened? Why continue? Why go on? He’d proabably try his best to find a way out as much as he could at first until he exhausts himself so badly he can barely move anymore.

and woudlnt it be so cruel if the time traveling made him immortal?

sorry, no. I’m not over the fact HE WAS SWNT TO DIE ONE HUNDRED MILLION YEARS IN THE PAST. AFTER FIGHTING SO HARD. AFTER LOSING EVERYTHING HE’D EVER KNOWN. HE FOUGHT SO HARD. HE WENT THROUGH SO MUCH. AND FOR WHAT. TO BE TOSSED AWAY AND FORGOTTEN LIKE A PIECE OF GARBAGE????????, NO!!,!!!! NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WHAT THE FUCK!!!”!!!!! WHY!!!!!!!!!!,!!!! WHAT THE FUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i need Nightsky to come back disheveled and fucming on the brink of dying and jsut wobbling towards Mikey with such a deadly anger in his eyes as he tries to kill him again. Woudlnt it be so cruel if Mikey thought it was funny and he just sent him back again! And Nightsky jsut kept coming back and back again and Mikey jsut kept sending him back and back again in an endless game of torture for Nightsky. Mikey im going to kill you die die die die die seid Eid ie

MIKEY WOULD NEVER.

I’m going to maim someone

let me kiss him on the lips

anyways

A WHOLE GARDEN OF FLOWERS AND MY NAME ETCHED ONA. RCOK. ALL THIC COULDVE BEEN AVOIDED ALL I WANTED WAS TO TALK……………

How will Mikey feel knowing now he has blood on his hands? How he deal with the overwhelming guilt of taking the life of another! Did it really even matter if he didn’t belong in this reality? Was he even alive? Doesn’t it even count as murder? How does Mikey feel? That he killed someone? Even if they were trying to kill him first? You can’t tell me he didn’t fall to his knees in exhaustion and pain after sending Nightsky back in time. You think he’d try and visit him? And find his disheveled mess of an almost dead body on the ground and jsut… stare at him? Nightksy woduktn even have the energy to do anything aside from glare. Even then he woudlnt be able to do it for long. Lifting his head would take too much energy.

would Mikey take him home? Or leave him to die? Would he watch him die? What would he do? Would he try speaking with him? Would he try negotiating? Would he just grab him off the ground with no explanation and take him back with him? Or try to get a few words out of him first? Only to realise he can’t speak and is jsut a shell of himself even more than he already was. Would Mikey feel guilty? Would he feel vindicated? What would he do? Or would he try to negotiate with him before taking his silence from his throat being too dry to speak as refusal of cooperation and just leave him to die alone. All his Pokémon are fainted too, and god knows he doesn’t know any natural revives in this time period. Or does Mikey just stare at Nightsky before leaving him to die? I don’t think Nightsky would be surprised. He’d have so much bitter anger and malice inside of him after seeing Mikey, the man who did all of this to him. Ruined him. I think he’d want to try and fight Mikey’s hands off of him if Mikey takes him home, but his energy would be too low he couldn’t even twitch a muscle.

Di you think If Mikey just let him die/didn’t go back to try and find him he’d be haunted in his Nightmares akin to how Nightsky was haunted by nightmares of his past self back in his home? How would Mikey even live with himself after that? He wouldn’t.

[loftylockjaw]

TIMING: Current LOCATION: Somewhere in town™ PARTIES: Wyatt (@loftylockjaw) & Ariadne (@ariadnewhitlock) SUMMARY: Wyatt accosts an innocent stranger during a bird-related freak out. This stranger, Ariadne, gives him some information on the existence of mares that he desperately needed. CONTENT WARNINGS: none!

—

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a decent night’s sleep. If it wasn’t the nightmares, it was the insomnia, developed because of the nightmares. He was afraid to sleep, though he wanted (and needed) it, and in the Pit his delirium was no longer serving him well. Panic often bubbled just below the surface, searing hot and easily melting away the thin layer of control he still clung to like a life raft, boiling over and sending him into a sort of frenzied state.

He’d never been a particularly calm or collected fighter, but his matches the past few weeks were ending in more and more brutal fashions. One opponent he actually ate, grievously injured but still alive. Right there in front of god and everyone, putting himself at risk for the sluggish way he crawled back to the locker rooms to wait out the digestive process. The crowd had loved it, of course, but it left a bitter taste in his mouth both literally and figuratively, once he realized what he’d done. And this was to say nothing of how he’d recently snapped and murdered his friend, Samir, during a fight. He'd never felt such guilt before, and it haunted him.

The lack of sleep showed. There were dark circles under his eyes, and his gaze was half-lidded and not entirely present. His manicured look had grown more disheveled, his hair a curly mess atop his head instead of the usual slicked-back look. Even the way he walked, a far cry from the confident stride he normally had, told a silent story of a man barely holding on to consciousness. He wasn’t even sure where he was at the moment, the sinking darkness of the evening turning to night changing how all looked and getting him thoroughly lost. He’d even left home without his phone, dazed as he was, and for what purpose he’d come out into the night he couldn’t recall. But he was here now, averting his gaze whenever he felt someone look at him, stumbling along with no destination in mind and no real way of getting himself home. Damned be whatever had set him off here in the first place, for it was long absent from his disjointed thoughts. 

But then a sound met his ears, one that set itself apart from the mumbling of people and rumbling of vehicles, the dings of shop bells and swish of their doors as they opened and closed. It was a quick sound, and altogether innocuous, if you were anyone other than Wyatt Barlow. But he was he, and he was terrified. His body stiffened and he came to a sudden halt, the person walking behind him nearly running into him as a result. His gaze was trained upward to the lightpost overhead, where sat a lone black bird, which stared back at him. 

It cawed, its voice gravely and low, and Wyatt sucked in a sharp breath. “Get outta here, you piece of shit,” he snapped at the animal, forgetting everyone around him.

—

She remembered how things had felt before she’d died. She didn’t like to remember that, but it was pretty damn hard to avoid. So much so that she even cursed at the thought of it – if damn counted as a curse, and Ariadne figured that it had to. At least in this circumstance. It was evening now and she was out, because she had to be. Not because she wanted to be. Being tortured without sleep quickly led to no longer needing sleep and she missed it desperately. Not just because the thought of actually sleeping next to Wynne was one that she so very much wanted to make real, but also because she somehow still found herself tired, even though Celene had said something about them being higher beings because they didn’t need sleep. But how did that work when you still craved it, much in the same way that you craved nightmares? She didn’t know, and she couldn’t ask Celene, and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to ask Leila or Inge. Even though she knew (or at least was fairly sure) that she could ask either of them anything she wanted, there was still a big, gnawing part of her thoughts that forbade her from doing so.

Because that wasn’t an area she wanted to examine, and if she avoided asking questions about it, then it could be all pretend. “All pretend” in that it would become something that she didn’t have to think about. It was easier this way, to play the game of avoidance and deny any of the complicated and twisted up feelings that she had. Ones that consumed her in a way she’d never wanted, but ones that she couldn’t so easily talk to with just anyone, and so ignoring and trying to be good was all that she could really hope for, in the end.

There weren’t tons of people out right now. Which Ariadne knew. She’d become far too accustomed to the habits of people at night, but at least it was peaceful. There were no men with vans around (as far as she could tell) and she had Inge’s knife with her, which did put her more at ease.

A bird sat atop a lightpost, and Ariadne held her breath – an unnecessary action – in hopes that maybe it wouldn’t make any noise. Still, it did, and she heard a voice that made her jump. “It’s – it’s just a bird.” She chewed on her lower lip. “I – sorry. If I scared you.” Her voice was hesitant and unsure. “It – do you want – I – it’ll go away soon, probably.” 

—

Wyatt whipped around to face the voice chastising him for being afraid of a bird, not hearing the apology that followed, too focused on the continued caws of that feathered menace. He looked wild, wide-eyed, and angry. “Just a bird!” he hollered at the girl, throwing his arms into the air. “Hah! Yeah! Just a fuckin’ bird! You’re probably right, I bet that’s why there’s fuckin’ bird legs comin’ out of the ground! Yeah, I bet you’re fuckin’ right! It’s nothin’! I’m just fuckin’ losin’ it!” There he went again, going mental on women in public again. At least there wasn’t a crowd this time, but he had enough sense to drop his voice to a snarling whisper before someone came to tackle him to the fucking ground. “You’re stupid if you think it’s just a bird. None of ‘em are just birds. Minions of… of whatever the hell is goin’ on in this town. Evil. They’re evil.” Anger dissipated into fear and Wyatt lifted his hands to his messy hair, shrinking away from the lamp post as the crow clacked its beak at them curiously, shaking itself out and tilting its head this way and that. 

“You should—girl, you should get out of here,” he warned, backing himself up against the nearest building and sinking to the ground. His eyes—yellow, now—stared up at the crow. It stared back, unbothered. 

“What?!” he shouted at the animal. “What d’you want?!” His voice was strained. The crow cawed again, and his hands flew to his ears.

—

She wanted to shrink into herself at his words. Ariadne couldn’t understand why he was yelling at her. But maybe he was scared, and maybe she shouldn’t dismiss things like that so easily. In the past two years, ever since becoming what she was, a part of her seemed to have forgotten just how afraid people could be of animals. Which was selfish. Just because she would’ve done anything for any animal to like her didn’t mean that other people weren’t afraid of them. “I – uh, I don’t think you’re losing it.” She gulped. Her lip wobbled, and she looked up at the crow and it looked at her and she didn’t know a thing about animal language but she could’ve sworn the crow was asking why she was around and that hurt almost more than when Jade and Clare had called her all but worthless. “I– I’m sorry. Also. For uh, like, uh – for thinking it’s just a bird. But I really do think that it’s not much.” Another pause. “I – yeah. At least to me.” Which now probably sounded stuck up or something like that. Which, yikes, big time.

“I – do you want me to leave?” She questioned, picking at her nail beds. “I can go, it’s – maybe the crow’s mad at me. For like, whatever perfume I’m wearing. That’s what I get for following TikTok trends, right?” Ariadne giggled, but it sounded hollow even to her.

—

The flare of rage had fully been extinguished as he sat there on the sidewalk near some girl who hadn’t asked for him to flip out on her, meanwhile another crow joined the first on the lamp post. He was no longer angry, but terrified. This was another nightmare. 

“It’d be a lot more helpful if you could scare ‘em off,” Wyatt groaned, squinting his reptilian eyes closed. “With your perfume or throwin’ somethin’ at ‘em, whatever works better for you.” Not that it would matter, not really. This would end with him waking up wherever he’d passed out, probably in a fucking gutter somewhere while wandering around town trying to stay awake, and he’d have another panic attack. Might shift in front of whoever was around to see if his current tenuous grasp on his human form was anything to go by. The ghost, as he called the other people in his dreams, could spook away as many birds as she saw fit to help the idiot on the ground beside her, but it wouldn’t make a difference. They’d swarm him like they so often did, and he’d feel every gouge they made with their beaks and talons, just like he always did.

Wyatt kicked off a boot, pushing it toward her with his foot. “Here. Please.” Their caws were grating, and he could still hear too much through the cups he’d made over his ears. “Shut ‘em up. Please. Before there’s trouble.”

—

“I – I can, I think.” How could she further explain that without telling him that she was a literal nightmare? How would that work itself out? Ariadne figured he probably wouldn’t believe her, and if he did, what if he was a hunter and just waiting for her to out herself? “I don’t wanna throw stuff at them, though – I don’t like hurting animals.” Even though she did it each and every day. She couldn’t even babysit Wynne’s cat because she’d scare it terribly. So she just bought it a lot of toys and told Wynne to make sure they told the cat how much Ariadne loved it. Thankfully, Wynne understood her and what she was and still loved her for it.

“Oh, I don't – I’ve never gotten them to uh, go away.” Okay, Ariadne, backtrack. “What happened that’s got you so scared of crows? I mean, they can be loud and stuff and a group of them doesn’t have the cutest name, but I – sorry.” She picked up the boot, turned it over and over in her hands before she set it back on the ground. “Would moving – like, going for a walk, help? We could go find ice cream or iced tea or pizza?” She wasn’t sure if any of that would solve any sort of problem, but the fear from the man was almost palpable and she wanted some sort of a distraction from that, desperately so.

—

This was getting him nowhere. A third crow joined the other two on the lightpost and Wyatt fought to maintain his composure, or… whatever was left of it. The ghost refused to help (because why would she) and he was left to fix it himself. And by fix, all he could really muster was trying to get the fuck out of there. “They’re just goin’ to follow me,” he muttered, snatching his boot back up and shoving it on his foot before getting back to his feet. The crows flapped their wings and cawed in response to the sudden movement, and the shifter moved quickly away from them, turning away so as to not draw their ire by staring at them. 

Her question rattled around in his head for a moment before he spoke up, noting that she had fallen in step beside him. “They keep killin’ me in my dreams. Was never scared of ‘em before, just… happened a few months back. Had one nightmare n’ it all started to unravel from there. Can’t sleep anymore. Except I’m pretty sure I am right now…” He glanced back over his shoulder to see the birds still perched in their spot and shuddered. “Sometimes they got teeth. Claws. Sometimes they’re massive. Sometimes they look like people.” Like her. “You ever have somethin’ like that? A fear that just… comes up outta nowhere? Haunts you all the fuckin’ time?” It was a stupid thing to ask, but he wasn’t feeling his most coherent at the moment. Really, he didn’t even know why he was still talking to this girl, this ghost… either it was helping keep him awake, or he was already asleep and it was just delaying the inevitable.

—

“Maybe they won’t.” Ariadne wanted to sound comforting but she couldn’t help but worry that it came out sounding far more patronizing instead (if that was the right word), because maybe she just sounded like some sort of stuck up kid telling off a grown up, which was very much not the sort of person who she was. But maybe it was coming off in that sort of way, and that made her stomach twist itself into knots.

In his dreams. She felt her mouth drop open, agape, at the comment. “I – yeah. I – yeah.” The fear out of nowhere she was far (far) too familiar with. “A couple years ago, yeah. It was bad. Not birds, but yeah.” Ariadne picked at her fingernails again. “I – it’s bad. You should try to get help. Not like – oh god, sorry, I didn’t mean – I just mean, like, it’s valid and you should pay attention to it ‘cause there’s things – monsters,” because she was a monster no matter what others said, especially in this context, “that eat nightmares. So that – it – you. Might be working with that.”

—

Wyatt was surprised with her answer, eyebrows raised as he turned to look at her. “You—really?” His heartbeat quickened. “Monsters that eat them?” It was nothing he’d ever heard of before, but that was hardly saying anything. “What do I do? How do I get it to stop?” He found himself filled with a sickeningly sweet hope, the dark cloud that’d been dangling over his head for months suddenly thinning out as the realization that this might be something he could fight against broke through it like the rays of the sun. “What are they called?”

—

“I - uh. Yeah.” Ariadne was regretting her words more and more by the minute. “Yes, and um, salt. Like around your bed. They can’t go past salt. They also don’t do well when flashed with bright lights.” She felt like she was betraying herself, betraying Leila, Inge, even Celene of all people. She was out here giving away ways to hurt her kind. She might have loathed what she was, but it didn’t feel as though it justified this.

“Mares.” She bit down on her tongue. But it was too late to go back now. “Like, uh, nightmares. Animals aren’t usually big on them, either.” Her gaze flicked up to the crow. “So if you got a dog, or borrowed a friend’s dog or cat or something, then you could have that in your house and that’ll alert you if one shows up.” She fiddled with the ends of her hair. “Just – make sure you do so soon, ‘cause if you have it go on for too much time then you die.” Ariadne winced. “Or so I’ve heard.”

—

Salt. Lights. A dog. Fantastic. All easily attainable. And he had a name for the thing—that woman he’d seen, she must have been a mare, right? If she was real, and she was in his nightmares? The joy Wyatt was experiencing came to an abrupt stop when she mentioned death, however. 

“... oh. Well… okay. That makes sense. I mean I’ve hardly felt alive for months, so…” Fuck, he needed to get started on this immediately. He shook his head, looking up and down the street they were on. “I gotta… go. I gotta go get some fuckin’ salt and take me a goddamn fuckin’ nap,” he breathed, deciding that he was awake after all. This girl wasn’t a ghost, she couldn’t be a part of his dream, because he needed this to be true. He’d confirm the information with someone who might know before making any huge assumptions, but salt couldn’t fucking hurt, right? “Thank you,” he breathed, looking back at the girl. He seemed uncertain, like he wasn’t sure he could trust her, but desperately wanted to. 

—

“I’m sorry.” Because Ariadne knew exactly how it felt to feel hardly alive, and sometimes it was even worse than how she felt now that she was actually dead. “You gotta… Yeah. Of course.” At least he wasn’t thinking she was a monster, which was a big win. Huge. Though she figured maybe most people wouldn’t just auto-assume that she was evil.

“Of course.” She nodded her head. “You can go, yeah. I mean – I – I’m not like, in charge of you, but I just mean that I support you getting a head start on this.” Ariadne realized that she hadn't given her name, but that was fine. She didn’t know the man’s name either, and in case he did decide she was no good, him not having her name was better.

“I hope things get better soon.” She offered a wavering smile. Somewhat fake, but mostly genuine. Ariadne knew that she wanted to get away from the crow, too. More for the bird’s sake than her own, but still. It deserved something good, and most of all, it didn’t deserve to go on in a state of constant high-alert and panic. “See you around, maybe?”

[sweetestberryofthebunch]

The one where the dorm gets in trouble

A/N: Oop, the girls just can never have nice things I fear … What do you guys say should happen next though 👀 asks are open, I have multiple possibilities for how all the plot lines can play out from this point on, so i wanna know what y’all expect/want … also thanks to everyone who’s still around, i know this is getting quite a lot …

When Denali stirred, she was met with a few single sunbeams of light glinting through the thin white net curtains. She was wrapped in soft, pale pink bed sheets, an odd contrast to the mess of a room she found herself in. Records on the wall, half of them of bands she‘d never heard of, most of the signed at least once. A drum set took up most of the space in the room, squished between a dresser and a vanity. At the sight of clothes splattered all over the ground, she felt a short moment of panic rise up. To her own luck, she found herself dressed in a bright pink tie dye sweatsuit, the colour so painful to the eyes she just knew who she must have gotten it from. To be fair, it wasn’t hard to know in whose bed she was in general. Everything in the room screamed Rosé.

A distant, but ever present pain pulsated in the back of her skull, reminding her of the night before. Denali‘s stomach was painfully empty, the growl it extracted so loud, it probably would have awoken Rosé if the other girl were in the room. But she wasn’t, the other side of the bed was empty. Denali couldn’t help the little ache she felt in her chest at the realisation.

Shaking her head maybe a little too much for her hungover state, she forced herself out of the unbelievably soft, warm, and nicely smelling bed (whatever the girls used to wash their sheets, Denali wanted to soak herself in it).

The door swung open and revealed her spontaneous hostess. Rosé looked a little disheveled herself, pink hair messy and roughly tied together, her frame clad in a washed out shirt of some record company and the same sweatpants like Denali wore but in blue. Denali wasn’t even surprised that Rosé basically owned the same thing twice. Her mind was occupied otherwise anyways. For the first time, she saw Rosé without any bright eyeshadow, without her thick, reddish brows styled deliberately with gel, without any cream contour exaturating her cheekbones. And fuck, she was gorgeous. Sure, her eyes were a little puffy, circled by shadows of barely any sleep, she seemed a little pale without any blush. But Denali liked her natural jawline, how her cheekbones seemed just as sharp without any colour on them. She liked her eyes glinting at her with no bright shade of glitter around them and she especially liked her brows, growing free in whatever direction they wanted to.

White teeth glinting at her in a grin broke Denali free from her trance. Rosé had her head cocked to the side just slightly, as she always did when she caught Denali off guard.

„Morning sleepyhead“, she chuckled, nodding towards the living room. „You pretty much woke up just in time for breakfast.“

It was only then that Denali noticed the buzzing sound of something frying somewhere behind Rosé, and the little hum coming from the same direction. Right, Jan and Lagoona.

Stalking towards the door, Denali couldn’t help but let out a long, soulful yawn as she passed Rosé. The other girl laughed, reaching out to push a single strand of hair behind Denali‘s ear.

The sudden, surprisingly warm touch took the smaller girl off guard and she came to an abrupt halt right in the door frame.

They glanced at each other for a moment, chests mere inches apart as they stood right in the gateway between Rosé‘s room and the living area. Somehow, Rosé smelled exactly like her bedsheets, sweet, rosy, oddly calming. She had never realized how sweet the other girl smelled when she hadn’t smoked beforehand. As she stared down at Denali, her hand still lingering at the girls cheek, Denali could see the grey of her eyes darken, an entrancing sight. Rosé’s brows knit together, just the slightest bit, as if her mind was completely lost in thought. Her touch on her cheek was gentle, knuckles barely ghosting over Denali‘s cheek. And yet, it felt like a match to a lighter, sparking a small, yet bright flame somewhere deep inside Denali.

She faltered. What was going on? Suddenly, she felt fear grasping for her heart, pushing it into fast paced beating. Her voice was breathless, almost none existent.

„Rosé“, she breathed out, forcing herself to look the other girl in the eyes. „I don’t … I don’t remember any- … Nothing happened last night, right?“

Rosé blinked, hand retracting from her cheek to instead scratch the back of her own head. Her eyes glanced down, up, anywhere but right at Denali and she let out a chuckle, maybe a little too energetic to be authentic. „If you don’t count smoking six joints one after the other, then not I guess.“ As she spoke, she moved out of the doorway, away from Denali. The warmth in her chest left with her. „I didn’t expect you to be such a stoner.“

She laughed again, waving her hands almost nonchalantly as she sauntered into the living room. Denali followed shortly after, more of a stumble than a saunter herself. Her mind was still racing. What had she even expected?

Before she was able to get into it, Lagoona appeared behind the kitchen island of the girls large, oddly clean kitchen. Clearly, Rosé wasn’t the cook in this place.

The marble surfaces seemed a little too shiny and solid to simply be fake, and Denali had to without swallowing once again at the sheer opulence the girls lived in.

„Morning“, Lagoona waved in her direction without turning around, pointing towards the barstools gathered around the kitchen island. Somehow, the kitchen had taken the least damage from last night. All other furniture was still pushed to the corners of the room. There were no too gross or large stains on the wooden floor, only a few plastic cups or empty bottles left. The girls definitely had already done a good portion of their cleanup, this was not how Denali remembered the room from last night.

As she sat down on the stool Lagoona had pointed at, Denali let her eyes roam over the kitchen and stove. There was something simmering in a pot, a pan fizzing as Lagoona poured small circles of dough into it, a plate slowly filling with pancakes. A bowl of fruit, a mix so colorful and rich, it could have been straight from a Rococo painting. As she glanced around, Rosé opened a cupboard to reveal a set of Color coordinated mugs and saucers. Reaching for a pink one, she glanced over her shoulder at Denali. „Want any coffee, baby? We might have some juice left too, but I can’t promise that.“

Trying to hide the minor flinch at the pet name, Denali rested her chin in her palms. God, her head really wasn’t her best friend today. „Coffee is just fine, thank you!“

As Rosé poured her a cup, she glanced over at her sister, still busy with the pancakes.

„Have you checked on Jan?“

Lagoona sighed. „I tried to, she locked her door.“

Rosé nodded, pressing her lips together just slightly as she handed Denali her mug. „She should come out, have a pancake and stop looking at her damn phone. Adore deleted the post!“

Lagoona put down her spatula, glancing over at her older sister with a mix of regret, worry and something harder. Something almost bewildered, something protective. In this moment, no one would have guessed which one of them was the older one. „It still got roughly two thousand clicks first.“ Her voice was blunt, her words straight to the point. „Not a great way to be outed in front of the whole school. Fuck that, her whole social circle. She’s just 19, Rosie. You tend to forget that.“

Denali had been chewing on her lip the entire time, staring down into her mug, where she could see her own reflection in the black coffee.

There was still some peachy glitter in the corner of her eye left, dark circles showing the fatigue in her bones from barely sleeping, her cheeks reddened from rubbing off her make up in the early hours of the day, after it had been slowly smudging all night. The curls she had carefully sculpted her hair into the day prior were almost entirely worn out now, her hair a dark, tangled mess resting on her shoulders.

Suddenly, right above her left shoulder, Rosé‘s face popped up, a messy, tangled pink bun on her head and a smirk on her lips when her eyes met Denali’s in the reflection. Head shooting back up immediately, Denali straightened her back, her skull smacking into Rosé‘s chin full force. Surprised by the impact, she whipped her head around, ready to apologise. She hadn’t realised Rosé had been that close…

When she turned around however, the taller girl was rubbing her chin with a laugh, shaking her head, more to herself than anyone else.

„Ouch“, she whined in mock pain, lower lip pushed forwards in a joking pout.

Denali watched her for a moment, before she couldn’t help but let out a giggle of her own, shaking her head as well. „Maybe announce yourself next time“, she retorted, ducking away from Rosé reaching out to shove her with a smile.

„Could you stop for one moment?“, Lagoona’s voice was sharp, eyes fixed on her sister. Still, Denali immediately stopped laughing, turning back around to face the blue haired girl across the kitchen island. Lagoona had her arms crossed in front of her chest, lips pressed together in frustration and even in her bright blue mermaid onesie, she managed to look intimidating.

Rosé quieted down too. Still standing behind Denali, she supported herself with one hand on the countertop, holding eye contact with her sister.

Denali definitely did not like this position, half under Rosé, somewhat between the sisters as they stared each other down for a solid of at least five seconds. Grabbing her mug with both hands, she busied herself with taking a sip from the bitter liquid. She didn’t dare ask for milk and sugar in this moment.

Luckily, Rosé broke eye contact with her sister in that very moment, letting out a deep sigh. Her free hand ran over her forehead, messing up the bun even more. „I hate seeing Jan like this“, she sighed. „What about Nicky though?“

Lagoona huffed, still enraged but a lot calmer already. Both of them seemed more defeated and frustrated with the situation than anything else, just wanting to help their sister. Denali didn’t have a sister of her own, but she could still imagine how they must feel right now. If something like this had happened to her, her brothers would have let hell loose in response.

Lagoona shook her head again, sending her blue curls flying, before strutting over to the fridge.

„What about her?“, she replied, rummaging through tons of half empty bottles of wine, beer cans, and harder stuff, „She made sure Adore deleted the video when Jan freaked out. I think she left when Jan wouldn’t speak to her though.“ Finally finding what she was looking for, Lagoona turned back around, a canister of milk in her hand. „Poor Adore. She felt so bad, apologised a million times. I think she cried when they had to leave too.“

Rosé shook her head, forehead wrinkled up. Denali felt the little huff she let out against the back of her neck. Suddenly, she was very thankful for the large sweater she was wearing, because now was not the moment to visibly get goosebumps from how close the older girl was. Actually, that time was never.

„I’m sorry Goons, this was supposed to be a night about you.“ Rosé sighed, fishing the milk from her sister as soon as she put it down.

„It’s alright“, Lagoona retorted, receiving a smack from her sister when she tried to snatch the milk back. Pushing the milk towards Denali, Rosé nodded. „I just want Jan to be okay now.“

Denali glanced up at her, brows knit together in confusion. How did Rosé know how she liked her coffee …

In response, she got a short wink, almost making her spill her drink in perplexity.

„And“, Lagoona stretched the word out like bubblegum. „At least some of us had a good night anyways.“

Denali glanced up at Rosé, eyes wide at that. Images from last night came flooding back to her. A bottle of wine, the corner of the roof, a thick, fluffy blanket wrapped around the both of them. Denali lighting up a Joint hanging between Rosé’s lips, the two of them trying to blow smoke rings. The sleepy, airheaded feeling of white wine and weed, Rosé’s arms around her. Her head on her shoulder, slowly falling on her chest, as Denali snuggled closer against the cold. The sky turning from black to grey and blue. Rosé’s lips on the crown of her head. Waking up in the girls bed, Fresh clothing on a chair by her side. Nothing had happened, but still, everything had changed. The realisation hit Denali like a breaking wave crashing onto a beach.

Without breaking eye contact, Rosé answered her sister. „Sure did.“

Denali swallowed, blinking twice before downing most of her coffee in one large sip. This was too much right now …

„Is there a bus stop nearby?“, she asked, making Lagoona looking at her for the first time this whole morning. However, it was Rosé who answered her, of course.

„Don’t be ridiculous, I’ll drive you after you had something to eat.“

And if Denali leaned backwards into Rosé while she hummed her thanks, it was something she could worry about later. Same for the way Rosé leaned towards her as well, and the way their bodies seemed to melt together perfectly.

As always, the dorms greeted Denali with shouting. Before she even opened the door to their common area, she could hear Jasmine, stumbling over her words as she tried to be heard over Daya hissing in response. Home sweet home …

However, when she pushed the door open, the view in front of her was quite unusual. Everyone from their floor was seated around the old, shabby coffee table in their kitchen and living area, even Camden and Angeria, who Denali had barely even caught a glimpse of so far. They sat on each side of Willow on the old, half fallen apart mustard couch, almost like guard dogs for the petite girl between them. Willow looked like she had eaten something bad, her mouth merely a thin line and her eyes stern. All three were staring up at Daya and Jasmine across from them, both standing, Jasmine with her hands on her hips and Daya with her arms crossed, not unlike how Lagoona had done earlier. Olivia sat on the ground next to the table, watching the scene go down in horror.

Once the door fell shut behind Denali, all six heads whipped around. Olivia looked relieved, Daya rolled her eyes. To Denali’s surprise, Willow narrowed hers, glaring at her like a hawk.

„Look who decided to join us“, they hissed, „Why don’t you come sit?“

Olivia immediately reached out to Denali, the latter letting her roommate pull her down next to her. Their hands stayed interlocked once she was sat, and Denali wasn’t sure who was holding onto who for dear life. Maybe both of them did.

„What happened?“, she asked into the room when no one said a word. Nodding towards the stack of paper on the coffee table, Angeria answered offered a much needed answer. „We got a noise complaint from the dorms downstairs“, she explained, dancing slowly around her words as if she was worried the wrong one might set off an explosion. Judging by everyone’s tensed up faces, it might actually.

„And a warning“, Camden added, glancing over at Daya and Jasmine, „Cause our bathroom door broke.“

Willow rolled her eyes. „Daya and Jasmine broke our fucking bathroom door and someone has to pay for it. Also if we get another noise complaint they’ll start kicking us out.“

Denali swallowed hard. Fuck, those were some really bad news.

„Well“, Jasmine chimed in, shooting Daya a glare. „I didn‘t slam the door.“

„Bitch!“, Daya growled back, arms crossed in front of her chest. Probably for the better, otherwise there might have been fists flying. „If you wouldn’t saunter to the showers like its your given birthright to block them for several hours I never would have done it in the first place!“

Jasmine’s hands curled into fists and Denali worried one of her nails might break. „You can’t make me the root of all your problems, Daya! I’m just existing!“

„Guys!“, Olivia interrupted them, her shout almost desperate. „None of that matters to administration! They just want the goddamn door fixed!“

„You’re one to talk“, Willow retorted, crossing her own arms now. „You‘re barely ever here anyways!“

„Willow!“, Angeria jumped in now, exchanging a quick glance with Camden, who put a hand on the small redheads thigh, letting out a quiet, warning „Don‘t. Not now.“

However, that had just about the opposite effect from what she probably intended. Willow’s brows furrowed, glancing around the room in pure, unfiltered anger. She didn’t yell, Willow never did, but her voice was hard as stone, cold as ice.

„Do any of you have any idea how hard this entire day has sucked so far? We‘re just a few weeks away from exams, but instead of working on my project I have to put out you guys fires! Daya, Jas, just split the goddamn bill in two and stop breaking stuff! I really dont understand your problem! And you“, she turned towards Olivia. No, Denali felt her heart sink deep into her stomach. Willow stared past Liv, right at her.

„If I were you“, she growled, „I would be way more concerned right now. Do you wanna know what happened last night?“

„Will-“, but Willow was already way too enraged to be stopped now, Denali could do nothing but sit and let the storm rain down on her.

„Since you decided to disappear, Crystal was left all on her own. Lagoona had to call Daya to pick her up, because guess what? She had a pretty shitty night! And you weren’t there to comfort her, or even send her home! We had to drive all the way downtown to get her home, and she can’t look Gigi in the eyes anymore, that’s how bad she feels! If I were you, I’d dig myself a hole in shame!“

„I’m sorry“, Liv whispered beside her, getting smaller and smaller with every word„We tried to find her, we really did! But when we didn’t see her Mik said she just left …“

„Yeah, well,“ Willow leaned back against the sofa, burying her face in her hands. „We all know how that turned out, don’t we? You know“, she glared at Denali again, „If I had known you’d just leave her the first chance you got, I would have never set you up. I guess that’s on me, but the least you could have done is ask about her, instead of floating in here like a lovesick fairy. You didn’t even answer your phone all night! For your sake i hope that it was at least the fuck of your life!“ The last comment hit Denali in the face like a pile of brickstones.

[bijouxcarys]

𝐏𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐧' 𝐆𝐮𝐲 - 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄

Masterlist

𝐄𝐦𝐦𝐚 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧’𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 Brian. She had a knack for making assumptions like the cheeky little minx she was. She even brought up that time we ran into him in the corridor, insisting that he gave me “the look.” You know… that look. While I knew Emma was exaggerating, I entertained her suspicions with a playful smile.

However, the true challenge of the day lay in transforming myself from a dishevelled mess into someone presentable. I found myself standing in front of the mirror in the girls’ restroom, scrutinising the chaos reflected back at me. My cheeks were slightly flushed, mascara smudged under my eyes, and my once perfectly straightened hair had lost its shape. The concealer I had applied that morning had worn off, revealing blemishes on my chin and a pesky spot on my left cheek.

As I analysed my appearance, a group of girls entered the restroom, barely noticing my presence as they flocked to the mirror. Envy welled up inside me as I observed their impeccable style and their unwavering commitment to looking flawless all day long. They carried brushes and entire makeup bags, their attention devoted to maintaining their appearance. I couldn’t comprehend how they, or anyone, could have the mental capacity to constantly stay on top of their looks. Normally, I didn’t care much for their superficial efforts, but in that moment, I couldn’t help but long to be like them.

My gaze shifted to the girl standing next to me in the mirror. She wore a vibrant yellow long-sleeved button-up, casually tied at her waist, accentuating her curves. Her blue shorts showcased her figure in all the right places. It made me shrink back, suddenly self-conscious. I reluctantly turned my attention back to my own reflection, feeling dissatisfied with what stared back at me.

I, too, wore a button-up shirt, but it was far from fashionable. With three-quarter length sleeves and no pattern, it lacked any sense of style. I had clumsily tucked it into my jeans, opting for practicality over fashion. Yes, jeans, not shorts, even though it was only eleven degrees outside. The jeans clung to my hips, subtly highlighting the little extra weight I carried there. They became more forgiving as they flared out towards the bottom, providing some relief for my calves and ankles. My trainers were worn-out, dirty, and far from their prime. To complete my stellar fashion choices, I draped an oversized denim jacket over my ensemble, concealing everything from my arms to my hands.

Just the way I liked it.

The high-pitched whine of one of the girls’ voices jolted me out of my introspective state, their question breaking through my depressive trance. “Can I help you?” she asked, her tone laden with annoyance.

“S-sorry…” I mumbled, hurriedly manoeuvring past her friends and exiting the restroom as swiftly as possible. Way make yourself look like a complete dickhead again, Maria…

Feeling a bit disoriented from the encounter, I inadvertently collided with somebody, muttering yet another apology before continuing on my way.

“Maria?” the person called after me, prompting me to turn around and find Brian wearing a puzzled expression.

“Oh God, I’m sorry,” I said with a light, airy giggle, taking a deep breath to compose myself and making my way toward him. “You, uh… You ready to go?”

“Yeah, yeah… I was just coming to find you, actually, are you okay?” he asked, drawing nearer and placing his hand gently on my shoulder.

“What? Yeah, I’m okay. I’m fine,” I replied, shaking off my distress and mustering a smile. Just ignore how you look, Maria… “Should we get going?”

“Absolutely.”

“So, whereabouts in Yorkshire are you from, Maria?” Brian broke the silence as we sat facing each other by the window of the cosy coffee shop around the corner.

“The North… Like, near Leeds,” I replied, raising an eyebrow at his laughter. “What are you laughing at?”

“Nothing,” he managed to say between laughs, covering his mouth and taking a sip of his coffee to conceal his amusement. “Just… your accent.”

“Oh, really?” I smirked, taking a sip of my black coffee. “And what about it?”

“It’s just…” Brian paused, his eyes searching as if he were scanning his thoughts. “I like it, he said softly, his gaze fixed on me.

“Thanks,” I giggled, feeling a flutter of excitement at his compliment. There was something about him that made me feel giddy in general.

Brian sipped his coffee, his eyes once again darting around the room. That’s when I truly noticed them—those captivating hazel eyes. His curls cascaded over his shoulders, and the fit of his jacket accentuated his physique. I hadn’t really taken the time to truly observe any of the boys before, but sitting across from Brian, I found him growing more attractive with each passing second that I let my gaze wander over him.

“Where are you from, Mr. Astrophysicist?” I asked softly, tilting my head to the side.

“Feltham,” he replied, resting his arms on the table.

I gave him a quizzical look, momentarily glancing down as I tried to recall where Feltham was. “Um… Forgive me, but where’s that?”

“Hampton—not too far from London. Didn’t you study geography in school, love?” he chuckled.

“Yeah, for, like… two years. Don’t remind me,” I sighed, flashing him a smile to let him know I wasn’t actually bothered by his mention of geography.

“Why is that?”

“Because I was terrible at it!” I cringed at memories from my high school days before letting out a laugh. “I was one of those drama and creative writing types. Not much of an academic, I’m afraid.”

“That’s not a bad thing. The world needs more creative people, and fewer hot-headed, stone-cold academics.”

I just stared at him for a moment “Are you just saying that to make me feel better about being crap at the useful stuff?”

“Kind of.

“Yeah…”

We locked eyes, the silence lingering between us for a few second. Uncomfortable with the quiet, I cleared my throat, intentionally making some noise. “Do you enjoy reading, Brian?”

“Of course! Who doesn’t love a good book? I particularly enjoy ‘Steppenwolf’ by Hermann Hesse.”

“I can’t say that I’ve heard of it,” I shook my head, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear that was obstructing my vision.

“Oh, it’s brilliant. It delves into philosophical themes, exploring deeper meanings in things we often overlook in our everyday lives.” It was evident that Brian had a passion for the book, and I found joy in seeing his eyes light up as he discussed something he loved. “Sorry, I tend to ramble.”

“No need to apologise. Ramble on…”

“Like the Led Zeppelin song.”

“Like the Led Zeppelin song…” I nodded, my smile growing as I realised that he had remembered me saying the exact same thing to him only days before.

“Do you read?” Brian asked, matching my smile.

“I do read, but I don’t tend to read a lot of fiction, to be honest. I like to learn things. History, politics, music,” I gestured my head to him. “I don’t know, I find it hard to invest myself in a story that never happened,” I shrugged, taking another sip of my coffee. “I enjoy understanding how we’ve navigated through time to reach where we are today.”

Brian’s eyes narrowed in thought, nodding his head slowly in appreciation. “I like you, Maria. You have a certain spark.”

“A spark?” I asked, my giggles escaping me.

Brian beamed a smile my way. “Yes, a spark. That’s what I like to call a personality. You actually have one, not some manufactured brand that most women tend to find themselves stuck in nowadays.”

His words lingered in my mind, and I soon realised their truth. I had never been interested in presenting myself as something I wasn’t. The idea of trying to be universally attractive didn’t appeal to me at all. However, I didn’t share these thoughts with Brian. Instead, I smiled warmly, finding solace in his description of me.

“Thank you,” I spoke softly, not quite enough to prevent him from hearing. For a moment, I became completely lost in his eyes. It sounds cliché, I know, but it was so effortless to do so. My resolve to keep our relationship strictly professional and work-related was slowly crumbling with each encounter. Perhaps it wouldn’t be such a terrible thing to let go a little, to loosen up.

“How long have you known the boys?” I asked, obviously referring to the band and breaking the silence that enveloped us once again.

“Oh, boy, I’ve known Roger for quite a few years now. We used to be in a different band together with our friend, Tim. It was called Smile, but we weren’t really going anywhere. I mean, we recorded songs, and had a decent following here, but…” He clicked his tongue. “I don’t know, it just never seemed to take off like we wanted it to. Anyway, Tim ended up leaving to join another band called Humpy Bong, which—”

“Sorry,” I almost choked on my coffee, erupting into a fit of giggles. “Humpy Bong? That’s a band name?”

“Precisely. I wish I was joking about that, but eh… Things happen. For a while, it was just me and Roger. Honestly, there was a point where I thought it would be best to put the music to rest. I thought we’d had our run, but Freddie eventually convinced us to keep going. He knew Tim from Ealing, so he was hovering around at Smile shows. He eventually replaced Tim as vocalist when he and Roger had a market stall in Kensington—which they’ve recently just left. And John, we only met last year after trying out several different bassists, but he was the one who really clicked with us. Musically, and spark-wise.”

I listened intently to their story, nodding in appreciation. “I genuinely believe you all sound amazing together. I meant it when I said I think you have potential… I’ve never heard music like yours.”

“Thank you, Maria. That means a lot,” Brian responded, his eyes gleaming with gratitude. “Speaking of which, it’s Friday tomorrow!”

His excitement was as palpable as that grin once again spread across his face. He lifted his coffee cup, finishing off the contents with enthusiasm.

“Meaning…?” I asked, curiosity piqued.

“We’ll be at The King’s Head again. Every Friday, remember?”

“Oh, yeah! Sorry,” I laughed, matching his infectious smile. “Do you want me to come?”

Instantly, Brian retreated back into that shy demeanour I had noticed throughout our time together. “You don’t have to… but I’d love it if you did.”

“Of course, I want to!” My excitement mirrored Brian’s as I eagerly responded. “I can bring Emma along, and she can give Roger his shirt back.”

Brian chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. “Those two really hit it off, don’t they?”

I laughed, once again nearly choking on the remnants of my coffee. “They most certainly do.”

We found ourselves walking back to my flat, the chilly October wind nipping at our skin. The occasional discarded newspaper page playfully twirled around my ankle, only to be whisked away by the wind. Raindrops, light and sporadic, brushed against my face. I hugged my jacket tightly around me, crossing my arms to shield myself from the cold. My green bag dangled limply from my shoulder. Brian, ever thoughtful, wore a simple white coat that draped elegantly over his lanky frame.

Our focus was set on reaching my flat, so our conversation remained sparse. However, my attention was quickly diverted when I spotted a small, brown creature shuffling along the gutter, about to fall victim to the impending rain. Gasping, I tapped Brian’s arm, causing both of us to halt. Pointing in the direction of the mysterious creature, I whispered in awe, “Is that…a hedgehog?”

My whisper seemed to ring louder than expected in Brian’s ears, as he too gasped and hurried toward the helpless creature, kneeling down. “Oh no… Poor little guy… He’s going to get soaked.”

Drawn by his concern, I joined Brian, brushing my hair away from my face as I crouched down beside him. “We should move him. It’s not safe for him here on the road,” I suggested, furrowing my brows. I watched the defenceless hedgehog scrambling along the gutter, its panic evident as it futilely attempted to climb up the curb, only to retreat and stand there, seemingly defeated.

To my delight, Brian nodded and carefully reached out, gently scooping the spiky creature into his arms, lifting it from the wet gutter. I approached him, getting a closer look at the hedgehog’s face as Brian tenderly stroked his back with his finger. The creature lifted its head, its wide, sparkling black eyes brimming with gratitude.

Brian cooed at the hedgehog, his voice adopting a slightly higher pitch as if he were speaking to a baby. “Where’s your family, little one? Hm?” His fingers continued to stroke the hedgehog, their noses nearly touching. I couldn’t help but be in awe of Brian’s endearing way with animals—it was absolutely adorable.

“It’s okay, we’re going to find you a safe place to live,” Brian assured the hedgehog, flashing me a wider smile before scanning our surroundings. His playful pout melted away as he spoke to me. “There isn’t really a safe place around here…”

A frown tugged at my lips as I bit them in contemplation. Suddenly, a realisation dawned on me. “Brian, there’s a garden in my block of flats. It’s owned by the council. There are hedges and a fountain. I think… Maybe he’ll be happy there.” I glanced down at the cuddly creature, extending my hand to stroke its snout gently. “Hello… Poodle-head and I will find you a safe and happy home, don’t worry,” I cooed.

“Will you stop calling me that?” Brian playfully pouted, still stroking the hedgehog. “We can take him to the garden. It’ll be a safe spot if you’re nearby. It’s away from any roads, right?”

I nodded my head. “No roads nearby. It’s centrally located, so… I think he’ll like it,” I whispered, my smile growing wider. But then, the hedgehog started shivering, and my eyebrows furrowed in concern. Brian’s face mirrored my worry as he reached out for the trembling creature.

“Oh no, don’t shiver. You’ll be warm soon,” Brian said softly, passing the hedgehog to me. Its tiny warmth nestled against my palm, providing a cosy sensation. I looked up at Brian, concern etched on my face. He began to remove his coat, folding it neatly a couple of times before taking the hedgehog back, carefully wrapping it within the coat so that only its eyes and snout peeked out.

“Brian, you’re going to get soaked,” I protested, scrunching my eyebrows together.

“Who cares? I just want this little guy to be warm. He’s more vulnerable than we are,” Brian shrugged, clutching the creature close to his body.

“Let’s go before the rain gets worse,” I suggested, a mix of admiration and fondness in my voice.

“There you go, little one, find some cover,” Brian whispered tenderly as he gently placed the hedgehog on the grass next to the protective hedge. The adorable creature sniffed its surroundings, adjusting to its new home before scurrying off into the safety of the foliage. Brian and I stood up, grinning from ear to ear, and our hearts warmed by our act of kindess.

The rain had intensified by now, prompting Brian to shield himself with his coat as we hurried indoors. Thankfully, the lift was in working order, sparing us the climb to the fourth floor. We found ourselves in the same position as the night before, with me standing in front of my door while Brian saw me off.

This time, however, we stood closer than before.

“I had an amazing time with you,” Brian whispered softly, his gaze wandering over my face.

“I had a wonderful time too. It was exactly what I needed, even if it was just a simple coffee outing. It felt so… calming,” I replied, smiling as I looked down. My gaze lifted when I felt Brian’s hand cradling my chin, his thumb gently brushing beneath my eye.

“Eyelash,” he mumbled, his hand lingering on my face.

Silence enveloped us once again, but this time, it was far from awkward or uncomfortable. It was a serene stillness, the bliss of being in each other’s presence. I instinctively reached out, my hand grasping his wrist, anchoring his touch. His hand was soft yet strong, comforting in its grasp. Brian’s thumb traced a gentle path across my cheek, a touch devoid of intention. Leaning against my door, I found solace in this moment.

And then, everything changed.

In the midst of our quiet intimacy, my door swung open, causing me to stumble backward. Brian held onto my arm, preventing me from falling to the ground. I spun around, only to lock eyes with Roger, his gaze widening in surprise. His face flushed crimson, and his dishevelled hair added to his flustered appearance.

“Oh, Maria,” Roger stammered, his eyes widening further as he glanced behind me. “Brian…” His voice trailed off, his gaze darting down the corridor. “I was just leaving…” With that, he hurriedly brushed past us, disappearing from sight.

The magic between Brian and me was shattered in an instant. And yet, perhaps it was a blessing in disguise.

Brian cleared his throat, his embarrassment and awkwardness returning full force. “Um… I’ll, uh… see you tomorrow, right?” he managed to utter, his eyes flickering with a mix of hope and uncertainty.

“Yeah… I’ll see you tomorrow,” I murmured, our voices tinged with fragility. The silence that followed felt heavy and unpleasant, filling the air between us.

This time, there was no tender kiss on the cheek. Instead, Brian offered me a strained smile before turning and walking away down the corridor, hastily slipping on his jacket. It was clear that the moment had be disrupted, leaving both of us feeling a sense of disappointment.

Well, that could have ended more smoothly…

It was finally Friday again, which meant one thing: student night. Emma and I were once again belting out our favourite tunes, singing along to Led Zeppelin, Sweet, The Kinks, Cream, at the top of our lungs. After a solid hour of headbanging and air guitar solos, I suggested switching things up and putting on the new Jackson 5 record.

“Why are you so obsessed with them?” Emma asked, carefully applying mascara to her lashes.

“I don’t know, their music just puts me in a good mood. It’s so light-hearted and easy to groove to,” I replied, adding another coat of mascara to achieve the ultimate volumized effect. This was one of those rare occasions when I went all out with my makeup, complete with eyeliner and blusher. We were going out, so I wanted to look extra nice.

It was a well-known fact that Northern girls knew how to clean up nicely compared to our Southern counterparts. Don’t judge me, but we didn’t have time for a full face of makeup just to walk the dogs. When we got ready, we got ready.

While waiting for my mascara to dry, I wandered over to the small case on top of Emma’s mini grand piano—yes, she had a mini grand, even though she was broke as hell. I carefully retrieved the Jackson 5 record I had saved up to buy the previous week, admiring the vibrant artwork on the cover. It was their latest studio album, ‘Lookin’ Through the Windows’. I was particularly excited about their cover of Marvin Gaye’s ‘Ain’t Nothing Like the Real Thing’.

As the music filled the room, I smiled to myself and made my way back to the mirror, preparing to work on my blusher. I skilfully contoured and artificially flushed out my face, strategically placing the shades to create the illusion of a slimmer face.

“That Michael kid is seriously talented. I wouldn’t be surprised if he goes solo and becomes massive when he’s older,” I commented, pulling half of my hair back to tie it loosely, whilst letting the rest cascade freely. I pulled out bits of hair in the front of my head and smiled at the feathery texture I had created.

“Shouldn’t we be talking about Queen instead? You know, since we’re about to see them perform again,” Emma quipped, raising an eyebrow and tilting her head to the side. “I see you and Brian are getting cosy.”

I sighed and glanced at her through the mirror as I smoothed out my hair. “So what if we are? He’s a nice guy.” I shrugged, secretly enjoying the growing connection between us.

“Listen, Maria,” Emma began, walking over to me and leaning against the wall. “You know I love you, right? And if you like Brian, that’s perfectly fine. It really is. I know you’re sensitive and pure as hell, but you’re also twenty-two and in university. It’s time to loosen up a bit. I’m not saying you should go wild and sleep around, but you deserve to have some fun. It’s normal.”

I stared back at her, searching her eyes for any signs of jesting. But she was dead serious. I took a slow, deep breath and met my own gaze in the mirror, contemplating her words.

“Unless Brian turns out to be a complete arsehole. In that case, he’ll have a date with my fists.” Emma enveloped me in a tight hug, her embraces always comforting and reassuring. “By the way, you look absolutely stunning,” she exclaimed with a mischievous grin before returning to her previous task.

“Thanks,” I chuckled, glancing down at my outfit. I had decided to switch things up and try something different for a change. Instead of my usual jeans, I opted for a pair of flared linen trousers in a vibrant salmon pink shade, adorned with a whimsical white pattern. My shirt, made of a thin material that probably wasn’t ideal for the weather, was off the shoulder and buttoned up. Feeling particularly confident that night, I tied the hem of the shirt to show a bit of skin. As I slipped on my only pair of heels, I debated for a moment if it was a good idea to wear them.

“Ah, fuck it,” I muttered, deciding to go for it. The heels weren’t sky-high, maybe just three inches at most, but they added the perfect touch to complete my outfit. To fully embrace the vibe, I grabbed my oversized hoop earrings and effortlessly slid them into place. Damn, I looked smoking hot! Emma had nailed it.

The scene at the pub was reminiscent of the previous Friday: Queen’s music blaring from the speakers, people scattered around, dancing and cheering. It came as no surprise that everyone was enjoying their music. There was no doubt that Queen was destined for greatness in the music industry.

Emma and I maintained a bit of distance from the stage surprisingly, to avoid distracting Roger. We positioned ourselves towards the back, strategically close to the bar. The boys were already halfway through their performance of ‘Keep Yourself Alive’, a song I was thoroughly enjoying. The first time I heard it, I didn’t pay much attention to the music itself, so I was pleasantly surprised when Roger began pounding the drums after the second chorus. I turned to Emma, a mischievous smirk on my face.

“Look at those muscles on him, Em,” I nudged her, causing her cheeks to flush before she downed a shot of whiskey.

However, my teasing quickly came to a halt as Brian started his guitar solo, stepping forward to take centre stage. His face wore an expression of intense concentration, with his bottom lip tucked between his teeth. I shifted my gaze to his hands, observing his left hand swiftly switching fingers on the fretboard while his right hand expertly plucked the strings.

“Don’t you have a thing for hands, Maria?” Emma seized the opportunity to tease me, and I shot her an annoyed side glance in response.

“I’m going to get another drink,” I muttered with a sour smile, turning and making my way back to the bar.

I lingered at the bar for a few minutes, trying to regain my composure. Brian looked absolutely majestic, but perhaps it was the effect of the alcohol. I had always had a complicated relationship with the stuff, and considering the rate at which I was consuming it that night, it was no surprise that my thoughts were scattered. When ‘Keep Yourself Alive’ eventually came to an end and the crowd erupted in cheers, I took a deep breath, turning around and heading back toward Emma, who was now engaged in conversation with a slightly taller, brown-haired girl.

Through my slightly blurred vision, I peered down at the girl’s fashion and quickly recognised the tell-tale culottes. It could only mean one thing—Marcy was in town.

Marcy, Emma’s younger sister by just a year, was attending Oxford University, studying political journalism. Her accomplishments made me slightly envious, but not in a negative way. She was stunning, both inside and out. I grinned as Marcy spotted me, and we instantly embraced each other in a massive hug.

“Maria! It feels like forever since I’ve seen you!” she squealed, pulling back to look at me with a radiant smile.

“I know! It’s so good to see you, and you look absolutely lovely!” I gestured to her fashionable attire.

“All that’s missing is the bucket hat,” Emma jokingly remarked, tearing her gaze away from Freddie, who was addressing the crowd in the pub. “Pink gins all around?”

Emma knew us so well.

Marcy and I didn’t exchange many words after that, as our attention was fully captivated by Queen and their next song. At the time, I didn’t know the names of the songs, but I was simply enjoying the music. As the song progressed, I realised it was ‘Doing All Right’. Freddie’s angelic voice blended seamlessly with his piano skills, creating a captivating atmosphere. I adored the song’s laid-back vibe, until it took an unexpected turn after the bridge section. Once again, Brian’s fingers danced flawlessly on his guitar, never missing a beat.

Just as I was on the verge of getting completely lost in the music, Emma abruptly shoved a pink gin into my face. The three of us sipped on our drinks, feeling like little queens, reminiscent of our college days when we would go out to a nearby town and order the same expensive drink at a fancy restaurant.

As the night wore on, Queen began performing covers of songs that had influenced them as kids and songs by artists they had admired. However, the passing time seemed to drag, not because of the boys’ performance, but due to my own inability to handle large amounts of alcohol. My vision had surpassed blurry and transformed into a searing heat, my entire body growing unbearably hot. I need some fresh air, I thought, feeling a sense of urgency. I stood up from the table where Marcy, Emma, and I were seated, grabbing their attention.

“Where are you going?” Emma slurred her words, clearly affected by the alcohol.

“Just… fresh air. I’ll be back,” I replied with a smile, my own words slurring into nonsensical sounds as I made my way out of the pub.

Leaning against the wall, I savoured the cold air against my skin, providing much-needed relief. The King’s Head was situated at a small junction, allowing me to observe the rush of cars and people, even at that late hour. Despite the overwhelming heat coursing through my body, goosebumps prickled on my chest. I kept my denim jacket on, shielding my arms from the cold that threatened to engulf me.

Engaging in some people-watching and taking in deep breaths of the refreshing air, I marvelled at the diversity that characterised London in the seventies. People of all races, shapes, sizes, and beliefs coexisted harmoniously. It was a balm for the soul, a reminder that we didn’t have time to obsess over another person’s life that had no bearing on our own.

That being said, my attention was strangely drawn to a man sitting on a wooden bench not far from The King’s Head. I couldn’t see his face or much of anything, as he wore a hat and a large trench coat. All I knew was that he was facing the pub. I tried to convince myself that it was the alcohol playing tricks on my mind, fuelling my paranoia about this mysterious figure. Yet, my instincts were strong, refusing to be ignored.

Resting my head against the wall, I let my gaze wander over the cloudy sky above me, yearning to catch a glimpse of stars. London seemed perpetually shrouded in clouds during that time. Despite my efforts to push aside the nagging worry about the enigmatic man, it persisted, weighing heavily on my mind. With one last deep breath, I turned and re-entered the pub, the sense of unease lingering within me.

Returning to our table, I was taken aback to find it empty. The absence of the boys at the front hinted that they had likely migrated to the back. Not being familiar with the layout of The King’s Head, my nerves started to prickle. However, after some searching, I finally spotted the door leading to the rear of the pub. Stepping through, I was once again greeted by the cool night breeze, which brought a refreshing relief.

There they were, gathered around Roger’s car, animatedly conversing and sharing laughter. Cases of booze were stacked both inside and outside the vehicle, a clear sign that the festivities were far from over. Bundling my jacket tighter around me, I made my way over. John was the first to spot me, his face lighting up with a welcoming smile.

“Maria’s here,” he announced, capturing everyone’s attention. As I approached, he greeted me with a warm hug. “How are you feeling?”

“Much better, thanks,” I replied softly, nodding appreciatively. My gaze then fell upon Emma, perched on the hood of Roger’s car, leaning into him with his arm draped around her.

“Of course you are, darling! You look fabulous!” Freddie chimed in, clearly intoxicated, as he pranced over and planted a sloppy kiss on my forehead. “Doesn’t she look fabulous, Brian?”

All eyes turned to Brian, who stood with his back against the car, a beer can in his hand. He seemed momentarily dazed when he realised everyone was looking at him, his eyes widening as he cleared his throat. “Uh… Sorry, Fred, what?”

“I was saying…” Freddie began, striding over to stand beside Brian. “Doesn’t Maria look fabulous?”

Brian shifted his gaze toward me, his eyes tracing over my appearance. “Yes,” he simply answered, nodding his head. His eyes remained fixed on my face, a small smile playing on his lips. I returned the smile, though I couldn’t hold it for long, aware that everyone was observing this interaction.

Turning my attention to each of the boys, I beamed a wider smile. “You were incredible tonight. Well, you’re always incredible,” I giggled.

Just as I spoke, Marcy emerged from the restroom, offering a smile to Emma. However, she appeared a bit more reserved, which made sense considering she’d never spent any time with the boys before. Roger straightened his posture, hopping off the car and walking toward Marcy.

“Well, hello—” he began.

“Don’t even think about it, Rog,” Emma warned, her voice stern, causing the rest of us to stifle our laughter. “She is my sister.”

Roger immediately retreated, nodding apologetically. “Sorry, love.”

“And she’s into foreign guys,” Emma added, playfully smacking his arm.

As people emerged from every direction, a striking blonde woman caught everyone’s attention. Freddie’s surprise was evident as he scooped her up and embraced her tightly. They moved to the back of the car, seeking some privacy, leaving me curious. I turned to Brian, leaning in and whispering, “Whos’ that?”

Brian leaned down, his face dangerously close to mine. “That’s Mary, his girlfriend,” he revealed. I furrowed my eyebrows, looking at him once more.

“Wait… Freddie’s not gay?”

I assure you, it was the alcohol speaking. I had a tendency to say and do thinks I didn’t mean when I was drunk, and this was one of those moments. Brian chuckled, offering an explanation. “We don’t know. I don’t even think he knows,” he shrugged, reaching into the open window of Roger’s car and handing me a can. “It’s cheap, but it does the trick.”

I glanced down at the can, inspecting the unfamiliar brand. He was right; I had never heard of it before, and I doubted anyone else had either. It seemed like a knock-off version of Foster’s or Carlsberg. But I wasn’t complaining. A drink was a drink.

So, there we were, getting thoroughly intoxicated on this questionable foreign beer, at midnight, in the dimly lit back alley of a closed pub. Marcy had left half an hour earlier to work on her essay, leaving Emma satisfied that she didn’t have to deal with a very drunk Roger’s advances towards her sister. John, being the least inebriated among us, had volunteered to be the designated driver and keep the boys in check.

“Roger, you are not driving!” John firmly stood in front of the car as Roger attempted to start the engine.

“Fuck off! This is my car, and nobody else is putting their council estate hands on it!” Roger shouted back, his slurred words barely comprehensible. He was beyond intoxicated, refusing to budge from the driver’s seat. The situation grew heated, and Roger began making threats, claiming he would run John over if he didn’t move. Sensing trouble, I stumbled over to Brian’s side, seeking safety in his presence.

“I’ll handle thing,” Emma declared, raising her hands and approaching the window beside the driver’s seat. I couldn’t hear what she said or how she managed to convince Roger, but he eventually stepped out of the car, allowing John to take his place. We were all dumbfounded that Roger had actually relinquished control of his car to someone else.

“I guess I’ll be walking home alone then,” I slurred, stifling a laugh as Brian nearly lost his balance, equally drunk.

“Nope. You’re not going home alone,” Brian shook his head, his curls swaying with his exaggerated movements. “You’re coming with us, and you…” He playfully booped my nose with his finger. “Are staying overnight, because…” He paused, gripping my shoulders and looking down at me. “I want to know you are safe.”

How could I refuse such a caring offer?

Roger had already settled himself in the backseat, waiting for Emma, who was engaged in a conversation with Mary. Feeling restless and on edge, I was startled when John shut the car door, much to Brian’s amusement. I slipped into the backseat, situating myself over Brian’s lap for comfort. My eyelids grew increasingly heavy, and I leaned against the car door, allowing my eyes to close. That is, until I heard the familiar sound of someone clearing their throat. However, it did not come from beneath me. I opened my eyes to realise that I was, in fact, sitting on Roger’s lap, not Brian’s.

I looked straight at Roger, who was clearly too inebriated to care, but my face twisted in disgust. “Oh, ew,” I mumbled, promptly climbing off Roger and moving over to settle myself on Brian. I nestled my face into his hair, his arm encircling me, providing a sense of safety.

Emma took my previous place and happily perched herself on Roger’s lap, equally intoxicated. Freddie and Mary shared a farewell kiss before he settled into the passenger seat. Mary then walked away, heading towards her own car.

“Isn’t Mary joining us?” Brian inquired.

“No, she has work early,” Freddie murmured, resting his head against the window.

The infectious energy that had fuelled us for the past ninety minutes had completely fizzled out, leaving each of us drained and exhausted. My head was practically glued to Brian’s shoulder, my face buried in his luscious mane of hair. I wasn’t quite asleep, just resting my eyes—or rather, trying to ward off the impending symptoms of a hangover while still inebriated. Among us all, Freddie was undoubtedly the most intoxicated. His face was a ghostly pale, and he couldn’t string together a coherent sentence for us to respond to. John had to pull over several times to let Freddie vomit at the side of the road.

It was clear that we were all feeling volatile and queasy, so our plans to continue drinking at the boys’ place had to be put on hold. When John parked down Sinclair Road, I had to reluctantly slide off Brian’s lap, feeling the absence of his warmth. Roger had to shake Emma awake as she had passed out as soon as she got in the car, while Freddie could barely walk in a straight line as he stumbled out of the vehicle.

As soon as we set foot in the front room, Freddie collapsed, completely passed out on the floor. Being the sweet friend that he was, John fetched a blanket and draped it over Freddie, while Brian flopped down on the sofa, tilting his head all the way back.

“I guess I’ll take Freddie’s bed then?” John asked, hands on his hips as he surveyed the room.

“Yeah, go for it,” Brian mumbled, his eyes drooping shut. Roger and Emma had already disappeared upstairs, bidding us goodnight as John followed suit.

I found myself standing in the cold front room, an uncomfortable silence settling over me. “Brian?” I whispered, not wanting to disrupt the stillness. I heard a faint groan in response. “Where can I sleep?”

Brian opened his eyes, lifting his head and looking at me. “I don’t think I’ll be moving from here, so my bedroom is available.”

I mustered a tipsy smile, making my way towards the stairs.

“It’s cold up there, though. It usually is when you’re alone…”

His words halted me in my tracks, my head turning to look at him. Through my hazy vision, he appeared achingly lonely. The arm that hung over the back of the sofa seemed inviting, a safe haven to lean into.

If I hadn’t been under the influence, I probably wouldn’t have done what I did next. I snuggled up beside Brian, resting my head on his shoulder. The arm that had been draped over the back of the sofa now wrapped around me, his hand finding a comfortable spot on my arm and pulling me closer. His body radiated warmth, a stark contrast to the chilly atmosphere of his student house.

Silence enveloped us once again, but this time, I found solace in the absence of noise. I glanced at the unconscious figure of Freddie on the floor before allowing my eyes to close. I felt myself drifting into unconsciousness, the peaceful position combined with the sporadic sound of passing cars lulling me.

“Maria?” Brian mumbled, stirring me from the edge of slumber.

My mind jolted away, and I manged a response. “Hm?” I answered, my eyes still shut.

“Why do you never take this jacket off?” he questioned softly.

My eyes almost flew open as I raised my head to look at Brian, who now gazed down at me with innocent curiosity. Fuck it, I thought.

Letting out a sigh, I glanced down at my arms, clumsily rolling up my jacket sleeve to reveal my bare forearm. The skin was marked with lines, each one a reminder of the minutes of anguish I had etched into my flesh—a record of my survival, which I now know should have been seen as a testament to strength rather than weakness.

Neither of us said a word. I looked back up at Brian, whose expression now brimmed with sympathy and concern. He brought his hand to my arm, his fingertips grazing gently over the scars before lifting my hand and intertwining his fingers with mine. His hands were much larger than mine, and the sensation felt like a gentle embrace.

Brian lifted my hand even higher before tenderly placing a kiss on the back of it, nuzzling against it for comfort. He didn’t need words to convey his message. His gaze locked onto mine, and he leaned forward, planting a kiss on my cheek. But he didn’t pull away.

His lips brushed against my face, moving closer to my own, which tingled with anticipation. The alcohol had never affected me like this before. When Brian’s lips met mine, it felt soft, an unexpected tenderness that enveloped us. I closed my eyes and kissed him back, the small, gentle kiss evolving into one tinged with passion as our lips danced together. His hand found its way to my face, caressing my cheek. I reciprocated, resting my hand on his chest as I lifted my legs, draping them over Brian’s.

The entire encounter felt like a surreal haze. I couldn’t decide if I was taken aback or turned on when his tongue entered the equation. But my response flowed instinctively, perfectly in sync with his movements, his gentle hands tracing along my thighs.

He eventually pulled away, leaving my lips damp and yearning. His face contorted with a mix of pain and a groan escaped his lips, his head falling back against the sofa. His hand reached up to cradle his head, the onset of a hangover beginning to make its presence known.

I didn’t call him out on it. Instead, I placed a small kiss on his jaw before resting my head once again on his shoulder, unintentionally smudging my lipstick along his neck.

With that, my eyes closed for the remainder of the night, embracing the silence and finding comfort in the rhythm of passing cars.

[kaylawritesfics]

Could we get a Peter Ballard x fem!reader fanfic where they fall asleep cuddling in her bed and Peter accidentally forgets to go back to his own room so they get found out by Brenner? With Peter being all protective and ‘don’t touch her’ over the reader and like trying to take all the blame and hiding her behind him to try and keep her safe? Fluffy ending please. Sorry I know it’s pretty detailed lol

71. “You can’t take her, please! I’ll do anything, I swear!”

summary: after he spends the night in your room, your secret relationship with peter is discovered.

pairing: peter ballard x fem!reader

warnings: mentions of violence, slight torture?

note: this is a little long i will add a read more tag to it tomorrow !!

You woke to the soft sounds of Peter’s delicate breathing. His messy, blonde hair was sprawled across your pillows and his head was tucked into the crook of your neck. His arms were wrapped loosely around your waist and below the white blanket that was covering the two of you, your legs were intertwined, creating a mess of limbs.

You slowly turned your body to face him, dragging a single finger down the bridge of his nose and across his lips. His face was illuminated only by the small stream of light coming in through the blinds of your window. You studied the details of his face; the way his lips were a little chapped, the way his long eyelashes fell gently onto his cheeks, and the redness of his nose, which indicated the winter weather could be felt even from inside the lab. A small smile made its way onto his face, giving away his awakening. “You’re staring,” he whispered, his eyes still closed as his arms tightened around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer to him. “You’re so beautiful, Peter,” you whispered back, continuing to draw little shapes across his face with your index finger. His nose scrunched as you found a ticklish point near the base of his ear.

Quick, constant footsteps throughout the hallway outside you room alerted both of you to the time. It was well past the time Peter would usually sneak away back to his own room. A pit of anxiety began to grow in your stomach as Peter’s eyes fluttered open and he held a finger to his lips, signaling you to remain quiet. He calmly placed a soothing kiss to the crown of your head, untangling himself from you and standing up. He had fallen asleep in his work clothes, which were now wrinkled and he looked quite disheveled. Doing his best to make himself seem more presentable, he placed an ear against your door, listening intently for any sign of approaching footsteps. When he concluded that it was safe, he cracked the door open, peering out. Before exiting, he sent you a grin and a promise to see you later.

The rainbow room was your favorite in the entire building. The children were allowed to play and explore using their talents and you were allowed more time with Peter, who often patrolled the room with you. You noticed that he looked far more presentable than he did that morning, his hair was neatly fixed and he had changed his clothes, opting for an outfit with less wrinkles. To preserve the secrecy of your relationship, the two of you chose not to interact very much in front of the children, however, the lingering glances spoke enough for the both of you. From his place next to 011, Peter caught your stare, sending you a barely noticeable wave and a tight smile.

The sound of a door opening caught the attention of everyone in the room. Dr. Brenner entered the room, eyeing each of the children before his eyes finally landed on you. “Miss Y/L/N and Mr Ballard, I need to see both of you in my office,” the tone of his voice frightened you and you sent a worried glance towards Peter, who kept his eyes on Brenner. The two of you followed Dr. Brenner out of the rainbow room and down the scarily white hallways of the lab.

Brenner’s office was a place you had visited very rarely. The walls were white and decorated only by various awards he’d won over the years. Everything seemed to have a specific place and was organized neatly. Two guards stood menacingly on either side of the room and you gulped as you suspected what this was about. Brenner took a seat behind his desk, motioning for you and Peter to take the two chairs across from him. “I suspect the two of you know what this is about,” Brenner leaned forehead, intertwining his fingers on top of his desk. “Perhaps you should blame Mr. Ballard’s blatant ignorance and disregard for security cameras,” Brenner’s dark eyes fell on you as he spoke, his tone becoming more hostile as he continued. When neither you not Peter responded, Brenner motioned the guards forward. “Take them to the electric shock room,” he demanded, standing and casually stretching his limbs.

Peter’s chair created a loud screeching noise that captured the attention of the room as he abruptly stood up. He struggled against the guard’s grip, thrashing about as he tried to free himself. The other guard quickly grabbed you by the arms, dragging you slightly. “Don’t touch her!” Peter’s unusually gruff voice rang through the air as he tried to reach for you. “It was my fault! Please, she didn’t do anything!” He begged, tears filling his waterline as he attempted once more to free himself. “You can’t take her, please! I’ll do anything, I swear!” Brenner seemed to perk up at Peter’s words and emotions, holding up a hand to stop the guard from dragging you from the room. “If Mr. Ballard wants to take the blame for this, we’ll let him. Escort Miss Y/L/N to her room and take Mr. Ballard to the electric shock room.” Peter’s eyes never left yours as he was violently dragged from the room and down the hall.

You didn’t see Peter for the rest of the day, choosing to lock yourself into your room and hide in your bed instead. As night fell, your room became too dark to see, however, as your door knob rattled and turned, a bright light filled the room from the hall. You peaked up over your blanket, watching as Peter made his way slowly into your room, softly closing the door behind him. A groan escaped his lips as he sat down on your bed, pain evident on his face. “Peter?” You mumbled, crawling over to him and wrapping your arms around his back, resting your head on his back. “Hi, darling,” he greeted, visibly relaxing at your touch. You gently pulled him down to lay beside you, your hand finding his hair. “Why’d you take the blame?” You inquired, running a hand through soft, blonde locks. He smiled wryly, closing his eyes at the feeling of your hands tugging through his hair.

“I’d do anything to keep you safe.”

[somemydayy]

Dope Lovers

Sanzu enjoyed the view, of you in a skin tight floor length dress, with exposed shoulders, and a half pinup, half loose hair style resting sideways against your right shoulder. The way your necklace pressed up against your collar bones, and peaking down your cleavage. The way your earrings dangled down your ears, laid a striking complement against the apple of your rosy cheeks. The way your eyelashes framed your dazzling eyes, and the way a striking shade of crimson was cast across your lips. You were the literal impediment of elegance, and refinement and somehow Sanzu just wanted to stain you, corrupt you, ruin you, taint all of you. Ruin that ideal you do desperately wanted to preserve. Have you a moaning mess under him, as you whimpered, and stammered out screams of ecstasy. Have his way with you on top of his office desk, in your high rise furnished apartment your parents paid for, but especially on his bed, with nothing clasp across your bare body but that same necklace that many guests and business associates gusted over at Boten’s annual Christmas banquet. And that thought alone consumed him whole. But at this current place and time you were unattainable, for your family was a long time associate of Mikey’s.

Sanzu knew all to well the importance to be on his best behavior, it was important he didn’t mess with the business relations Mikey oh so painstakingly forged. Plus your father was scary enough, he heard all about the last past few years before he had his business dealings with Mikey, your father was tangled up with the yakuza, a long time childhood friend and associate of the current head of the most notorious criminal syndicate in Japan. Sanzu was indeed fascinated, obsessed with you but he knew better than to act on those dark impulses for if he did, his head would be placed upon a stake on display in Tokyo’s busiest street. But even if he produced this to be true, Sanzu couldn’t completely give up on his fascination with you.

But as time went on, Sanzu would often than not graze his hand against yours as you walked past him. He enjoyed the way you became a blushing mess whenever he looked at you, complimented you, touched you. At first he found any excuse to. Pushing your chair in for you whenever you were present during meetings, the way he specifically ordered extra creamer in your coffee just how you liked it. Or offer you something sweet as you waited as your father talked one-on-one with Mikey. He thoroughly enjoyed the look of your face as it contorted in pure bliss as you took a bite of the strawberry cake he so desperately searched to acquire. But most of all he thoroughly enjoyed the very sight of you. But his hunger was growing, he knew this to be undisputed when he witnessed your disheveled and soaked white shirt and knee length skirt as you rushed into the office with heavy breathing one stormy night.

He was entranced, for you were his newest addiction, and he so desperately needed more, a higher dose of. At first it was a coincidence, that he showed up at your apartment. Sanzu was bloody and beaten. You attended to his injuries one late afternoon, but as the night progressed the subtle touches of your finger tips started to burn his skin, so in desperation sanzu striped out of his clothes. His cheeks were a beat red, and his chest frantically pulsated. His fingers linger across his stray locks as if trying to escape his current predicament.

As you place a hand against his forehead to check his temperature your met with a firm grasp around your wrist, and another around your waist. A sly smirk spreads across his features as you take in his sly grin of his lips. When suddenly he placed his knee flush against the middle of your legs. A whimper leaves your quivering lips as Sanzu licks his own in hunger.

He takes you than and there. He wasn’t your lover, oh no he was just someone you shared a bed with, plain and simple. Sanzu was addictive like a drug, he was your addiction. One you kept going back to even if you knew you needed to stop.

© Somemydayy 2022 | Please do not copy or alter this writing on Tumblr or any other platform.