#But like two weeks later she left me to do it all alone

[foreingersgod]

what if like you did a CC x reader fic with Good luck, babe! And like reader is like Caitlins gay awakening and stuff…

Good Luck, Babe! . CC

pairing: caitlin clark x reader

synopsis: Good luck, babe! by Chappell roan

A/N: i’m aware that in a good chunk of my cc fics that it starts with reader and cait “just hooking up” or something like that, so i swear this will be the last time i do that 😭😭

It's fine, it's cool

You can say that we are nothing, but you know the truth

the sun peaked through your linen curtains, making your eyes flutter open. you glanced over at your phone, 8:30, and over to the left side of your bed where she laid. she was sleeping peacefully, sheets pulled up to her collarbone, hair spewed in different directions against one of your pillows. she looked so beautiful like this. having her naked, in your bed, was truly a blessed sight to see so you cherished it whenever you could.

as she snored softly, still deep in a dream, you turned over on your side to look at her properly. you let your fingers run across the prominence of her collarbone, toying with the hem of your sheets that hid the rest of her gorgeous body. you watched as her lips parted with each breathe, how her nose twitched, and how her faint freckles danced across her cheeks. she was a sight for sore eyes.

not much later, her eyes fluttered just like yours had moments ago, yawning as she stretched for the first time this morning. she looked over, noticing you had been staring for who knows how long.

“take a picture, it’ll last longer” she laughed, leaning over and kissing your forehead before shuffling out of bed and starting to get dressed.

“no picture could beat the real thing” you grinned back. she looked over, smiling back at you, grabbing her keys.

“hey i gotta go, connor’s got this weird brunch thing that he needs me for, but um” she made her way to the door “i’ll text you”

“wait!” you stopped her before she could leave. she let you of the handle to your bedroom and turned to face you, giving you full attention. suddenly you felt vulnerable, still naked and barely covered by your sheets, laid right in front of her “would you want to grab dinner sometime this week? i know we meet up on fridays, but…i don’t know i thought it’d be nice to see you sooner”

“um…yea…you know i’ll have to text you or something” she shuffled around, avoiding eye contact. “it’s just that me and connor…he’s still my boyfriend…”

you fought the urge to roll your eyes “yea, yea i know”

“well i can’t just go out with you all the time like we’re girlfriends. me and connor are still together”

“even if you’re in my bed every weekend?” you scoffed “whatever, caitlin, i get it”

she just stared at you, not wanting to pick a fight. instead she opted for a sigh and left your apartment, leaving you alone and wanting.

you wished she didn’t have to pretend. you wished the two of you ended up differently.

And guess I'm the fool

With her arms out like an angel through the car sunroof

you shouldn’t have let yourself get this attached to someone you knew you’d never be able to have. you intentionally put yourself in situations with caitlin, hoping that, in some magical fantasy in your head, she’d fall for you. but you knew her. you knew about connor and you knew that being ‘gay’ was no where near something she was willing to accept, wether you were in the picture or not.

you found yourself constantly thinking back on all the times you’d realized that you were in love other her.

when she fell asleep on your shoulder during a movie night with your mutual friends.

when you and caitlin decided to road trip to tennessee to visit a close friend who was graduating. you let her have the aux and watched as she hung out the window. sunset illuminating her face, wind rushing through her long hair, singing the lyrics completely wrong but she didn’t care. she was the sun itself, in your eyes.

when she came to your crying for the first time, sobbing about something connor had done. how she so angry at him and needed a friend to spend the night with.

when she came over a second time, completely distraught again. something about how she didn’t feel right, that her head was messing with her. she was having thoughts. thoughts about you, about women, and that she was having a crisis about her sexuality.

when she came over a third and fourth and however many amount of times, when she opened up about those thoughts with you. asking you if you would help her. asked if you would take her to bed, to relive some of her thoughts. make her feel good, worship her like connor could never do.

but your crush never went past that. taking her to bed and waking up with her already gone most mornings, shooting you a ‘thank you’ text and saying she’d see you next friday.

I don't wanna call it off

But you don't wanna call it love

You only wanna be the one that I call baby

“caitlin, can i talk to you for a second” you asked, moving her hands away from the waistband of your shorts.

“yea, baby” she said, calling you that like she didn’t know it destroyed you on the inside to hear it “what’s up?”

you bit your lip, nervous to pester her with this again, but you don’t think you can handle it much longer. this secret sleeping around situation was taking a toll on you and you don’t want to be waiting around for someone that will never come.

“i love the time i get with you so so much” you began “but i don’t think i can keep doing this”

“i’m sorry, what?”

“i just don’t feel like being something you keep on the side. or like being a secret for that matter. i’ve had feelings for you for a very long time and it’s very clear that you don’t feel the same, so i think we need to call this off if that’s the case.”

“oh my- are you serious?” she furrowed her eyebrows, voice raising “i don’t get the privilege to just come out and tell everyone i like girls, YN. and regardless, like i’ve told you countless times, me and connor are still together”

“but why, caitlin?” you matched her tone “do you even love the guy? cause last time i checked, you don’t even spend time with him anymore. why? cause you’re always here with me playing fucking house! i don’t care if you don’t want to come publicly out, but…but i don’t think it’s fair that you treat me as some play thing for when you want to play pretend!”

she tugged at her hair in annoyance “jesus fucking christ, YN. whatever this is between me and you…it’s not love, alright? i thought you wanted this?! you’ve been more than willing to fuck me every time. so i’m not really understanding why you’re so upset!”

you felt sick, like you were genuinely going to puke. she was a mess and you’re not going to be her experiment for when she’s having trouble with her sexuality.

“just fucking leave, clark” you shook your head “i’m not doing this with you anymore. come back when you’re ready to figure yourself out.”

You can kiss a hundred boys in bars

Shoot another shot, try to stop the feeling

after that night, caitlin was a disaster. she was choosing to ignore what you said; about being in love, about connor, about everything. just because you fucked on the side didn’t mean she was gay…right?

she hadn’t been herself at all. she was screwing up at practices, forgetting about events and team dinners she needed to attend. she was starting to fall behind in classes, every part of her life was crumbling.

even when she laid in bed, inched over to the very edge of the mattress, connor snoring obnoxiously loud from the other end, she couldn’t stop thinking about the last time she saw you. things were never right with connor, she had always known that subconsciously, but it was becoming very clear how loveless this relationship truly was. but she brushed it off, tricking her mind into thinking that this was how things were meant to be.

she had been with men all her life, taught that this was what girls were supposed to do. so to imagine a life in which she ended up with you was just some silly dream that was meant to stay only as an unattainable desire.

for the nights that she couldn’t sleep, she would spend in the gym practicing, trying to shake off the truth that gnawed at the back of her head endlessly. this was good, she thought, basketball always made her feel better. it was her safe place. here she could leave her worries at the door and find comfort in the game, not even thinking about you.

but no matter how many shots she took, how many baskets she made, no matter how many drills she ran to make herself forget, she found herself coming back to the thought of you.

You can say it's just the way you are

Make a new excuse, another stupid reason

after about a month without you, caitlin had started to realize how much she was fucking up.

“caitlin, are you good?” kate had approached her after practice one day “you’ve been way off. and no offense, but your shots have been awful. what’s going on?”

“nothing” she plastered a fake grin on her face “nothing really, just been having a rough patch with connor, but we’re chill. just gotta lock in” she tried to joke.

kate laughed along, but she knew caitlin too well. there was definitely something up with her. but again, knowing caitlin, she needed to let her deal with it on her own.

caitlin had numerous people approach her about this. about her behavior and how she seemed to be struggling recently. but she brushed it off every single time, probably giving a dozen different excuses as to why she was acting in such a manner. she hoped that she would eventually believe them herself.

Good luck, babe!

You'd have to stop the world just to stop the feeling

you truly hoped that she was doing ok. you hadn’t heard from her in quite some time, not bothering to reach out to her in fear that you’d poke the bear and make it worse. all you wanted was for her to realize what she truly felt. wether it be in love with you or that she had never loved connor at all the begin with, it didn’t matter, you just wanted her to finally see how beautiful life was when someone found their true self.

you had been in her position before: unforgiving parents, no one to trust, you’d even had the remorseless religion to add on to all of the reasons why you felt like you couldn’t be yourself. and you knew what i took to get to where you are now.

caitlin believed that most things could be fixed by either ignoring it, or fixing it right away and never looking back. but this wouldn’t be the case now, you already knew, she would have to come to terms with it eventually.

And when you wake up next to him in the middle of the night

With your head in your hands, you're nothing more than his wife

caitlin shot up out of bed, gasping for air, clawing at the sheets that seemed to be glued to her skin. another nightmare, she’d been having those recently. she looked over, squinting her eyes in the dark, making sure connor was still asleep. letting a sigh of relief go when she realized he was out cold.

her hands found their way to her hair, hands scratching at her scalp, elbows balanced on her knees. she was losing her god damn mind. she couldn’t stand him, she no longer held love for connor (not there was any in the beginning). with each passing day that she had spent with him, she found that her heart beat more and more for you each time.

And when you think about me, all of those years ago

You're standing face to face with "I told you so"

the idea of loving you was tormenting her every single day for the last few months. you were the reason she woke up every morning, the reason she worked so hard to win each game, and the reason she woke up the next morning and dumped connor. she was finally able to see clearly now, finally able to understand that she was madly fucking in love with you.

she realized that no matter how many times she fought the feeling or no matter how many times she tried to convince herself otherwise, that you were the one thing she breathed and lived for.

You know I hate to say it, I told you so

she didn’t even know what she was doing or what she was going to say, but she found herself making her way out of her apartment and into her car. she had to see you and tell you how wrong she was this whole time. that she was so in love with you that her body shook with it.

her heart pounded as she turned onto your street, immediately singling out your building and noticing your apartment lights were still on. her whole body must’ve been shaking with the way that she could barely put the car in park and unbuckle her seat belt. but she managed to make it up every flight of stairs and to your door where the shiny gold ‘103’ sat, practically antagonizing her.

her mind was on autopilot, not even realizing she had already knocked three times until she heard your footsteps approach the door. and suddenly there you were in all your glory, as beautiful as ever.

you were dressed in your comfy clothes, fuzzy cow slippers on your feet, hair messed up, and your necklace backwards. but she thought you were the most gorgeous woman she had ever seen.

“caitlin?” you rubbed your eyes in astonishment “what-um-what are you doing here?”

“hi” she breathed “i know it’s late, im sorry, really. but i just need to see you”

“caitlin i don’t want to do this again. it’s been months and you show up at more door suddenly at what? 12:40 in the morning? i thought i told you i was done with the whole charade.” you stated firmly, about to shut the door on her, but she wedged her foot between the space of the door before you could close it.

“no, no. it’s not…it’s not like that. i meant that i need to come clean to you”

still skeptical, you let her in, watching as she politely hung up her jacket. you ushered her to the couch, grabbing her a glass of water and preparing yourself for whatever she was about to confess.

“when you ended things with me,” she broke the silence “i thought i’d eventually get over it because i didn’t think what we had was all that serious. i was scared to admit that i didn’t love connor…and most importantly that…that i like girls.”

you looked at her solemnly, you knew how hard this was for her.

“and i guess is till don’t know exactly what i am, but…but what i do know is that i took you for granted and i treated you unfairly. you didn’t deserve any of it and for that i apologize”

“hey it’s…it’s ok now. yea i was upset with how things were going, but i’m proud of you now that you’ve recognized what you’ve done and you’re working on yourself.” you tried to reassure her.

“i really am trying” she stated “because i want to. for you.”

you watched as her eyes twinkled under the glow of your lamp, tears rimming her lash line. you noticed the way her nose twitched like how it did that one morning she woke up in your bed. and how she looked just as flawless as she did when you had met her.

“YN, im in love with you.” she blurted “i know i have no right to come here and say that. especially after i completely disregarded your feelings for me. i don’t expect you to take me back and try and love me again, but i just need to you to know that i have spent every day regretting what i’ve done”

there was another heavy silence again, filling the room instantly, encapsulating that words that rolled off of her tongue. you were honestly at a lost for words. of course you were still in love her, you never stopped, but now things were real. you were watching your deepest dreams unravel to you right in front of your eyes.

“You know…I hate to say it but” you said, watching as caitlin braced herself for what she assumed was rejection “…I told you so” you couldn’t hold back your grin, immediately falling into playful laughter as you scooted closer to her on the couch.

“i’m in love with you too” you finally admitted out loud for the first time in months.

her shoulders finally relaxed, exhaling after holding her breathe waiting for your response. she laughed with you, just glad to here you say those words.

“don’t scare me like that” she said, face inching slowing towards you “i don’t think i would’ve been able to handle the rejection”

“don’t worry, i don’t think i ever could’ve stopped loving you if i tried” you whispered, finally closing the gap between you. you’d kissed her many times before, but this would be the first kiss that actually mattered. “but i really did tell you so” 

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

A/N: yayyy!! happy ending!! <3

#caitlin clark x reader #caitlin clark #wcbb #wcbb x reader #chappell roan

[writingforstraykids]

I owe you a kiss - Pt.8

Pairing: Minchan x femReader (mention of Changlix)

Word Count: 3478

Summary: Three weeks later, you're still feeling left out. Your therapist suggests communicating your worries to your husbands, but this doesn't go as planned.

Warnings/Tags: fluff, angst, therapy, verbal fight, anxious!chan, min gets defensive

A/N: After part seven I thought I'd be done with one part more tops...well. Once more, there'll be another chapter after this. Ideas/wishes are always welcome, I'll see what I can include🤭🖤

PART SEVEN | PART NINE

Three weeks later 

“And you still don't want your husbands there for the appointments?” your therapist asks kindly. She has been for weeks now. 

“No,” you shake your head firmly. 

“May I ask why?” she asks patiently. 

“Minho has a lot to deal with on his own because he remembers…also, he hates hospitals,” you start and nervously fidget with your hands. “Chan is…different.”

“Different, how?” she responds with another question. 

“Distant is the wrong expression by now. He's trying to show me how much he loves me, but I can tell when he gets overwhelmed. He's still figuring things out, finding his place back home,” you tell, and she nods along, taking some notes. “I just…It's not all bad. He gets enough sleep now, makes sure to eat enough, and takes care of himself. It's just so different from what I remember.”

“And Minho? Is he getting the help he needs?” she asks. 

“Yes, he sees his therapist every two weeks. Weekly, if it's really bad, she always manages to squeeze him in,” you tell her. “He tries to hide it, but he still has nightmares. He's able to drive again if he has to, but he gets anxious easily.”

“And where does that leave you?” she asks patiently, nodding at the wooden board between the two of you. There's a figure for Chan and another for Minho, standing close next to each other. Behind them are several smaller figures in darker colors, symbolizing their fears and struggles. And there's you. Yours is smaller than theirs, standing further away as if you're facing them. 

“Alone,” you say, swallowing hard as you notice the distance between the figures. You hadn't thought much about it putting them there but they're painting a clear picture. 

“Are you?” she asks gently. 

“Sometimes,” you nod. “I don't feel like it when I'm alone with one of them. But if it's all three of us…I feel like they don't need me,” you say and subconsciously fondle the tiny head of the figure behind you, symbolizing your negative thoughts. 

“Do you want to change something?” she asks, picking up on it, and you set it between yours and the ones of your husbands. “Add anything?”

“I'm scared of losing them,” you say, and she nods at you, letting you choose another one. You put it next to the one you just moved. 

“May I comment on something?” she asks, and you nod. “You put your husband's fears and struggles behind them. But yours are in front of you, forming a wall between you all. Why's that?”

“Uh…because they've communicated theirs openly with me and are working on them. I didn't tell them I'm scared to lose them or all of the other thoughts running through my head,” you admit. 

“Mhm, so theirs are out in the open…why aren't yours?” she asks patiently, and you drop back into the comfortable chair. 

“I don't know,” you confess. “Maybe because I feel like I can't put more on their shoulders.”

“What happened when Chan told you he's scared to push your boundaries? What happened when Minho panicked?” she asks, flashing you a kind smile. 

“I comforted them, told them it's okay,” you say quietly. 

“And what makes you fear they wouldn't do the same with you?” she asks, making you lower your head a little embarrassed. 

“I don't know,” you admit quietly, feeling tears burn in your eyes. “I should tell them, right?”

She hums gently. “Communication seems to be very important to keep your relationship intact as you're all dealing with certain things.”

-

You're exhausted after your session, but you know you'd have to open up more about your own fears. You follow her outside into the waiting area to pay and frown as you see Chan talking to the receptionist. “Channie?” you ask, confused, and he looks up with a soft smile. 

“Hey, baby girl,” he says sweetly. “I thought I'd come pick you up, I finished early today.”

“Oh,” you nod and open your handbag to get your wallet. Chan introduces himself to your therapist, a warm smile brightening up his gorgeous face. You take out your card, and Chan gently shoves it back inside. 

“Already handled,” he tells you. 

“What? Channie, I had to pay for the whole month today,” you protest. 

“I know,” he nods and gently zips your handbag closed. “It's fine.”

“Thank you,” you nod gently, smiling as his hand finds yours. 

“You got everything?” he asks, and after you nod, you two say goodbye. Once you're in the elevator, Chan pulls you into a strong hug and kisses your hair. “You look like you've been crying. Rough one?” he asks caringly. 

“Yeah,” you nod, burying yourself in his warmth. “Thank you for picking me up, Channie angel.”

“Of course,” he tells you, rubbing your back. 

As you lean into Chan's embrace, you're reminded of the session's revelations. His warmth is reassuring, and it pushes against the shadows of your own unspoken fears. You wonder how to begin sharing them with him, how to bridge the gap that your silence had unknowingly broadened. "I have a lot on my mind," you finally say, your voice muffled against his coat.

Chan's response is soft, filled with his sweet patience. "I'm here whenever you're ready to talk," he assures you, his hand steady on your back. The simplicity of his promise makes something within you ease slightly. Perhaps sharing your inner conflicts wouldn't be as horrible as you feared.

“Thank you,” you nod gently. 

Chan leads you outside the building and to his car, your hand still in his. “I wanted to take you out for coffee, but would you rather go home? Whatever you say is fine, beautiful,” he assures you, and tears brim your eyes. 

“Our favorite spot?” you ask gently. 

Chan smiles sweetly, dimples showing. “Yeah,” he nods, giggling as your face lightens up. 

“I would love to,” you tell him. 

-

When you're back home, the atmosphere shifts as Minho greets you both from the sofa. His smile is shy, a reflection of his ongoing struggles, yet sincere. His eyes light up when he sees you. "Everything okay?" he asks, a subtle concern in his tone.

You nod, squeezing Chan's hand before letting go. "We need to talk, all of us," you say, surprising even yourself with the firmness in your voice. Minho's brow furrows slightly, but he nods, understanding the seriousness of your tone. He gestures towards the empty space next to him. 

As you all sit down, the weight of the moment hangs heavily in the air. You take a deep breath, gathering the courage to be as open as possible. "I've been feeling a bit overwhelmed," you begin, your voice stronger than you feel. "Not by you two specifically, but by everything. The fears I've kept to myself are... they're getting heavy."

Chan reaches for your hand again, his touch a silent promise. Minho leans in, ready to listen, to help shoulder the burden you've carried alone for too long. You share your fears—of losing them, of not being enough, of the future that seems so uncertain sometimes. With each confession, the walls you built crumble.

“You know you can always come to us when those thoughts get too much to handle, yeah?” Chan asks gently. 

“You're always there for us, honey, don't forget we're there for you too,” Minho adds agreeingly, gently rubbing your thigh. 

“I know…A lot of it is in my head, but I miss you two,” you admit. “I can't even explain it, but I miss you so much, and I just wish everything would be normal again,” you say, tears brimming your eyes. 

“Y/nnie,” Minho whispers and shakes his head, tears brimming his own eyes. “We have to work with what we got. A lot has happened, and we can't pretend it didn't. We have to find our new normal,” he tells you and timidly takes your hand.

“But we're always here, yeah? You're still our beautiful wife,” Chan chimes in. 

“Well, then start acting like it!” you suddenly burst out, and seeing the hurt and confusion lacing their features you quickly get up. “Start acting like I'm your wife and not just your crush you hold hands with from time to time.” 

“Seriously?” Minho asks dangerously low and Chan swallows, already fearing an outburst of both of you. “Tell me you're joking.”

“I'm not,” you snap at him. “Obviously, I'm not.”

“What the fuck do you need me to do then? What do I have to change, huh?” he snaps right back at you, getting up as well. 

“Guys, please,” Chan tries gently, but you both ignore him. 

“I don't know! But it feels like shit, I'm just some bystander to you two being all lovey-dovey all day!” you burst out. 

“You’re pushing us away, you know that?” Minho retorts, his voice dripping with frustration and hurt. “You say you feel left out, but you've got walls so high, I need a damn ladder to get over them! Every time I try to initiate anything more than the crush behavior, as you put it, you back away.”

“I-” you start, but you can’t form any clear sentence in response. Minho is right, you’ve been denying him to go any further repeatedly.

Chan’s face grows pale, his eyes wide as he watches the confrontation unfold, seemingly frozen in place. “Can we... please not do this?” he stammers, his voice cracking under the strain. “This isn’t helping any of us.”

“You stay out of this!” Minho snaps, turning his glare briefly to Chan. The sharpness in Minho’s tone slices through the tension like a knife, leaving Chan blinking back tears, his hands shaking slightly as he tries to compose himself. “You don’t have to participate in this fight, but let me say my piece.”

“I’m trying to help!” Chan protests weakly, his voice trembling at the thought of you getting into a serious fight. Minho and you almost never fought, but if you did, it was always ugly, hurtful, and fucking loud. He didn’t like it before, but he could barely take it now, getting overwhelmed.  “I don’t want to see us fall apart over misunderstandings and hurt feelings!”

“Well, it’s not just about feelings, Chan!” you shout, your voice breaking as the tears start to fall. “It’s about being seen and heard in this relationship. I feel invisible most days, like I’m just here to fill a space between the two of you! It’s like you don’t care about me.”

Minho blinks at you, and you can tell he needs a moment to process your words. Then he explodes. “If you really feel this way, if everything I do is that useless and meaningless…then I don't know what the fuck I'm still doing here!”

“Minho,” you whisper in shock, and Chan's tears fall freely now. 

“Minho, please don’t say that,” Chan shakes his head, looking at him anxiously. 

“No, seriously, fuck this. Fuck you,” he says harshly, and you know he's trying to cover his hurt with anger. “I don’t care about you, yeah sure,” he goes on. “I stayed by your bedside for weeks, praying that you’d wake up. I have done nothing but respect your boundaries, give you the time you need, and make sure you’re comfortable. What the fuck do you need me to do to think I actually give a fuck about you?!” he shouts at the top of his lungs, and it has both you and Chan flinching heavily. It’s rare he loses composure like this. He’s breathing heavily once he’s done, staring at you with fierce but such vulnerable eyes it makes you sick. He nods to himself as you don’t answer and grabs his phone from the sofa. “You don’t even know what you need. How the fuck am I supposed to, huh?”

“Min, please,” Chan whispers, sensing how hurt his husband truly is behind his mask of anger. 

Minho’s expression softens for a moment, his anger faltering as he sees the tears streaming down his face. “I need a break,” he announces. “I’ll sleep in the guest room; I can’t do this right now.” He shakes his head and meets your eyes for a brief second. “Thanks for the talk,” he says sarcastically as you don’t respond to his prior statements.

You stand still for a second as he leaves before collecting your things as well. 

“Y/nnie,” Chan tries weakly.

“Don’t,” you say sharply, shaking your head. 

Chan flinches as the door to your bedroom slams closed and slumps onto the sofa, biting back a sob. He blindly reaches for his phone and blinks away tears to find his best friend’s number. Felix picks up after the second ring. “Lix, I-I know it’s late-,” he starts weakly.

“Where are you?” he asks worriedly at the distressed sound of his voice. “Do you need me to get you?” he asks, already getting up to search for his keys. His husband shoots him a questioning look, and Felix mouths Chan’s name. Changbin frowns worriedly, getting up as well and grabbing his keys. 

“Can I stay at yours? Just for tonight?” he sniffles helplessly. 

“Of course, Channie,” Felix says soothingly, slipping into his shoes. “You’re at home?” he asks carefully, leaving the house with Changbin right behind him. 

“Yeah…home,” he says, choking on the word. 

“We’ll be there in ten minutes, okay?” he asks gently, waiting for Chan’s quiet hum in response. “Deep breaths, Channie hyung, I’m sure whatever this is it can be fixed.”

“I’m not sure,” he answers shakily. “I’m really not.”

“They got into a fight?” he asks carefully, knowing how much it upset Chan. 

“Yeah,” he whispers. “It was bad, Lix, really, really bad.”

“I’m sorry, Channie,” he says softly. Only a little later Chan meets them in front of the house and they pull him into a tight hug. 

Changbin soothingly rubs his back. “Come on, Channie hyung, let's go,” he gently urges him to the car, handing him a tissue. “You can stay as long as you need to, okay?”

Chan nods and gets into the car, sinking into Felix's arms as the younger one sits down next to him. Felix gently rubs his shoulder and sighs. “It's gonna be okay, Channie.”

Three days later

Waking up, you notice Chan's side of the bed is still made, untouched from the night before. Minho is already downstairs, the clatter of dishes breaking the uncomfortable silence that had settled over the house. As you walk into the kitchen, Minho’s posture stiffens, his usually warm eyes clouded with frustration.

“Good morning,” you say hesitantly, your voice barely a whisper, hoping to ease into the morning peacefully.

Minho nods without meeting your eyes, continuing his task. “Morning,” he replies shortly. 

“I was thinking we could all go out today, maybe get some fresh air together,” you suggest, trying to find a way to get you three to deal with what happened.

Minho pauses, placing a plate down a little too hard. “Chan isn’t feeling well,” he says shortly, finally looking up at you with a mix of irritation and exhaustion in his expression.

“Is it his headache again?”

“Probably,” Minho mutters, turning back to the dishes. “Or maybe it’s just an excuse.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you ask, your voice rising slightly in concern.

Minho sighs, a long, tired exhale. “It means maybe he’s just avoiding us. Avoiding this,” he gestures vaguely between the two of you.

“Minho, that’s not fair. You know how much he’s been struggling with everything,” you counter, feeling your heart rate pick up as the beginnings of anger mix with your worry.

“And what about us?” Minho snaps, his composure breaking. “When do we get to talk about how this is affecting us? You’re so focused on Chan. What about me? What about what I need?”

The accusation hits hard, opening a floodgate of emotions you’d both been tiptoeing around. “I’m trying to be here for both of you and fix this!” you exclaim, frustration overtaking your initial intent to keep the peace.

“Well, maybe try a little harder because I don’t feel it!” Minho’s voice escalates, his tone harsher than you’ve ever heard.

“Guys? What’s going on?” Chan’s weak voice comes from the doorway. His usual bright eyes are dim and shadowed with pain.

You both turn, startled, as Chan leans against the frame, looking between you two with a growing sense of dread. “I just needed some air, that’s all,” he murmurs, clearly caught off-guard by the newly thickened tension.

Minho’s expression softens slightly at the sight of Chan, but his frustration is far from appeased. “We’re just talking,” he says, though his voice suggests it was anything but a simple conversation.

Chan glances at you, his eyes searching for an ally. “It doesn’t sound like talking,” he comments softly, his tone hurt.

“You wouldn’t know; you’ve been avoiding us!” Minho’s outburst swiftly redirects the tension back to Chan.

“That’s not fair, Min,” Chan protests, his voice weak but filled with hurt. “I’m just trying not to make things worse.”

“By not talking? By hiding away?” Minho counters, his voice laced with bitterness.

“Enough!” you finally shout, unable to bear it anymore. “This isn’t helping anyone. We’re supposed to be in this together.” Both fall silent, the echo of your shout hanging between you. The air is thick with unsaid things, each of you caught in your own thoughts. “We need to fix this,” you say finally. “We can’t go on like this.”

Chan nods, looking exhausted. “I know,” he agrees quietly.

Minho doesn’t speak; his jaw clenches as he wrestles with his emotions, but his nod is agreement enough. You all sit down at the dinner table, facing each other.

Chan’s voice is gentle as he suggests, “Let’s each say something we feel without interruptions. Just listen to each other. Really listen.”

You nod, taking a deep breath. “I feel overlooked,” you begin, the words raw but necessary.

“I feel helpless,” Minho adds, his voice thick.

“I’m afraid of losing you both,” Chan admits, his eyes glossy with unshed tears.

The room grows silent as each confession hangs in the air. You all look at each other, the vulnerability shared creating a bridge that had been missing in the chaos of your misunderstandings.

Chan reaches across the table, his fingers brushing against yours. "I'm sorry," he says, his voice steady despite the emotion. "I’ve been so wrapped up in my own shit that I didn’t see how isolated you felt."

Minho exhales deeply, the tension easing from his shoulders as he acknowledges Chan's words. "And I... I've been so focused on not falling apart myself that I forgot to make sure we're all okay," he admits, his gaze shifting between you and Chan, a silent plea for forgiveness in his eyes.

It's your turn to respond, the atmosphere allowing for more open and heartfelt communication. "I've been afraid of burdening you both with my fears," you say, the admission freeing in its own way. "But I see now that keeping them to myself only creates more distance. I need to share more, not less," you continue, feeling a bit lighter with each word. "I need us to really be in this together."

Minho's hand finds yours, squeezing gently. "I've been scared," he admits, his voice cracking slightly. "Scared that pushing too hard or not enough could end up driving you away. But I see now that not communicating is just as damaging."

Chan, still visibly shaken but slowly regaining his composure, adds, "I thought I was protecting you both from my issues, but I was just isolating myself further. I promise to be more present, even when it's hard."

The conversation turns into a lengthy discussion in which each of you takes turns expressing thoughts and emotions that had been buried under daily routines and misunderstandings. It’s not just about voicing grievances; it’s about rediscovering each other's needs and reassessing how to support each other better.

Chan proposes a weekly check-in, a safe space where anything can be discussed without judgment, ensuring that no concern is too small or too trivial to be voiced. Minho suggests more one-on-one time with each of you to strengthen individual bonds that contribute to the health of the collective relationship.

In the following weeks, the impact of that conversation becomes evident. Slowly, the dynamics in your household start to shift. There's a newfound gentleness in your interactions, a deeper consideration for each other's mental spaces, and an active effort to engage without overwhelming one another.

Feeling less isolated, you find the courage to share your smaller daily fears and joys, discovering that these moments of sharing contribute significantly to your feeling of closeness with your husbands. 

In a relationship as complex and intertwined as yours, challenges are inevitable.

PART SEVEN | PART NINE

do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works in any way here or on other platforms. ©️writingforstraykids 2024 -

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[anshares]

It was just a normal day at the office for Shi Qingxuan...files needing approval, sit for hours on meetings, and meet the new employee who will work under her.

That is until said employee was also the same woman she had a one night stand with a week ago! WAIT???!! WHAT IS THIS ITS NOT HER UNDER ME BUT ME UNDER HER?!??!? WHAT IS HAPPENING?!??!?!?!?!?!!!!

Click more for full plot!

Modern Office AU (F/F Beefleaf flavor)

Shi Qingxuan lives like a princess, she has it all! friends, money, position in a company courtesy of her brother who is the owner of said company. Shi wudu is a successful business tycoon and is planning on running as a politician and SQX fully supports her brother.

Her friends invited her to go clubbing being the social butterfly that she is, she accepted the invitation. As soon as she enters the club, she notices this lady dressed in a black minidress.

This lady has an air of mystery in her but just spends her time alone drinking on a corner of the club, she doesn’t interact with anyone and just turns down attempted advances on her by others but she can’t help notice said lady keeps glancing at her.

SQX admits she feels drawn to this woman plus she is gorgeous! So she steels herself to go invite her to dance at least, hopefully she won’t be rejected.

When SQX asked if she wanted to join her on the dance floor the lady in black turned her down dejected she starts to leave but the Lady stopped her.

MY: “I'm not much for dancing but shall we drink some wine while you keep me company instead? I admit it's getting lonely here.”

SQX: “Sure!”

MY: “ What’s your name?”

SQX: “It’s Shi Qingxuan”

MY: “Ming Yi, nice to meet you Shi Qingxuan”

One thing led to another and they spent the night together, sadly when SQX wakes up Ming Yi is already gone.

She regrets that she wasn’t able to get her number, she would love to see the gorgeous lady again if she allows it but doesn’t regret spending the night with her because she gave her a night worth remembering.

A few days later, SQX is at work and they are about to welcome a newly hired employee that will be working directly under her, the head of the department. Imagine her surprise when she sees the very same woman who she has a one night stand with!

She sees that Ming Yi doesn't have any visible reactions on seeing SQX again, that kinda pricked at her feeling cuz could Ming yi have forgotten about her already? Is she just a passing fling to her?

But no SQX isnt a quitter so she tries to befriend Ming Yi but Ming Yi just treats her like a stranger and when she tries to hint about their shared “history”,

Ming Yi changes topic back to work. It frustrates SQX a lot till one day during overtime and they are the only ones left in the office that Ming Yi confronted SQX.

Ming Yi corners (kabedon) SQX to her door office,

MY: Do you think this is funny? I see the way you look at me, do you think I don't notice your attempts at flirting?

SQX: AHA! I knew it!! You do remember me so why are you ignoring me?

MY: Of course I remember you, my memory isn’t shit. You are aware of the position we are in right, You are my boss and this is inappropriate so i suggest you stop this for both our sake.

SQX: What if I don’t want to? What are you gonna do about Ming Yi?

They just stare at each other and then proceeds to make out and office sex. As they were getting dressed, Ming Yi says she won't deny that the attraction that they feel to each other is mutual but honestly she is quite reluctant in having a relationship with her boss,

so she offers a friends with benefits situation instead SQX agrees to this and thinks that she can charm her way to Ming Yi’s heart and get to see her romantically. Ming Yi on her side tries to set up boundaries such as no strings attached,

they maintain a professional relationship at work, no one can know about this even her friends, and finally no falling in love. They act like a normal boss and subordinate in the office but no one knows that these two are in a FWB situation.

As they spend more time together, SQX inevitably falls and falls harder to her. Based on moods, Ming Yi can be either rough or gentle on her, SQX loves the gentle one because it makes her feel loved by Ming Yi with how tender and gentle she holds her.

During one such night while they were cuddling in bed after their romp, SQX is complaining about how her brother is strict and suffocating sometimes she just needs to get away

So Ming Yi offers her the key to her apartment and tells her if she wants to get away from her brother for a while her doors are always open to her. SQX is touched by this.

She kisses her hard and starts a sweet and gentle round 2 and realizes while they are at it that she loves ming yi and wants to be by her side forever.

Whenever SQX remembers their nights she fondly touches the marks (concealed by make up or her clothing) that Ming yi left on her. SQX tries to be subtle about it, she thinks Ming Yi probably notices the change in her attitude but doesn’t say anything about it.

SQX thinks it's mutual too because of how Ming Yi is being gentle with her during, the way Ming Yi takes care of her after and the simple gestures when they are at work, it's so tender as if they were something more but Ming Yi keeps quiet, SQX doesn't want to assume….

Sometimes she acts cold to her then gently again, it's quite frustrating that Ming Yi is giving her mixed signals but she thinks that Ming Yi is just having a dilemma, SQX leaves her alone for her to figure it out,

SQX doesn’t try to talk about it nor confess to Ming Yi as she doesnt want to rush her and is scared that she’ll lose what they have at the moment, if she can be with Ming Yi like this for now that’s okay, she will give her all the time she needs to sort out her feelings.

Ming Yi may treat her gently at times but in actuality she doesn’t want any of that, it just so happens that this naive woman wrapped in her arms, dozing without a care for the world is a pawn for her plans for revenge.

Ming Yi real name is He Xuan, she grew up privileged and with a loving family, all is well till one day her parents got accused of a crime they didn't commit and paid for it with their lives. With her life suddenly turned upside down, she ended up in the streets.

She was then recruited by a fellow teenager into a mafia group where she will work for them in exchange for food and shelter. She knows being involved in that world is dangerous and may lose her life in the process but way better than starving and dying in some random alleyway.

At least with this she may be able to investigate the truth behind what happened to her family. She owes this one eyed boy a life debt for saving her from the streets and giving her the opportunity for revenge, because years later she finds out the truth about her misfortunes.

Turns out Shi Wudu, a huge business tycoon is actually quite corrupt doing dirty deals and other crimes behind the scenes. The Police won’t arrest him because the police is also in on it and coincidentally her family is partners with this company and was chosen as scapegoats.

With vengeance fueling her, she created an elaborate plan to cause this man who took everything away from her his downfall. As soon as she established her own mafia group and became a boss herself with the help of her friend/brother (she treats HC as her brother)

The plans are set in motion and it starts with Shi Wudu’s beloved little sister, Shi Qingxuan. From her seducing SQX and working in Shi Wudu’s company everything is part of the elaborate plan for this man’s downfall but there are days when HX wavers because of SQX,

she admits that she has become quite endeared with but during one of the moments when both mafia lords meet up for a drink HC asks him if she is planning on abandoning her plans now that she is close.

HX denies and no she won’t abandon her plans, SQX is just a stepping stone to get closer to the goal, she is nothing to her just a chess piece in this board and resolves to push this through without a care for the collateral damage it may leave, a taste of his own medicine.

Now with the elections drawing near, SQX notices something off with her brother and how Ming Yi is acting. She has gotten even colder now and doesn’t join her often in bed even if she does, she could feel that she is angry at something.

HX took a leave of absence for a week and hasn’t contacted her ever since…. At home she notices that her brother is also quite tense, when she asks he just says that it's just some setbacks at work and his election campaign.

In reality HX is starting her attack on his businesses and campaign, one by one she destroys it and there’s nothing Shi Wudu can do about it as the police can’t even track it down they know that there is a larger power at play here.

At the same time, SQX got a text where HX wants to meet up cuz she has something to tell her, SQX thinks this is it, this is the moment where their relationship will change for the better she hopes!

Since she also decide to confess her feelings when they finally meet up, she really missed her and wonders where did was she when HX took a leave of absence.

But something is off as the address that HX gave her led to an abandoned house (it was HX childhood home) she can't find Ming Yi but finds her brother instead and is confused that her brother looks panicked and asks her if she harmed in any way but she tells him that she just got here.

Shi Wudu tells her that they've been set up by one of his enemies he thinks and that they should be careful then out from the shadows Ming yi emerges,

SQX immediately goes to her worried that she might be set up to get to her too, not a moment passed when SQX hugged “Ming Yi” she pushes her hard away from her to the point SQX tumbles on the floor.

She was confused on why “Ming Yi” is treating her like this and she doesn't look like the ming yi she has known for months, this “ming yi” looks imposing and sinister.

“Ming Yi” ignores SWX and starts introducing herself as He Xuan and asks if SWD remembers her or her family, SWD answers that he doesn't. SQX asks what is going on,

so He Xuan starts listing all the things SWD did and how today is also the death anniversary of her family, the very family he ruined. She then asks if he now remembers this family he used as scapegoat after she revealed everything.

SWD was like what about them, they have served their purpose no use remembering cannon fodder, this angered HX and starts pointing a gun at him. SQX was shocked by all of this and in denial of what she is hearing because it's just impossible,

Shi Wudu raised her like a spoiled ignorant princess without her knowing of the darkness lurking within, even if SQX has a feeling or an inkling on what her brother is up to but she just turns a blind eye to everything,

because that just impossible her kind, sweet brother strict he may be won’t do that.

SQX jumps in front of her brother asking HX to stop this, this isn't her which HX just raises a brow "you dont know anything about me" and decides fine shell be merciful and asks for an apology and when he doesn’t she points the gun to SQX instead.

SWD starts kowtowing, “I apologize for everything I did.THERE! Are you happy now?” he tries to rise but HX just smashes his head again on the floor. “Did I permit you to rise?” SWD clenching his fist so hard you can see his knuckles turn white “No.”

SQX is just crying on the side and can't bear to see her once proud brother like this. “Ge, please just apologize properly” she says between sobs,

SWD just glared at her to be quiet, he does so and asks that her beef is with him so let his sister go as she has nothing to do with it, she knows nothing. HX says that's why it's so detestable she knows nothing,

why wasn't she allowed to know nothing that all her possessions and position she gained because lives were trampled, she didn't know then but is still ignorant. She turns to SQX with a chilling glare, she told SQX that she gave her many chances but it seems like SQX ignored all of it.

She just starts sobbing and apologizes now, “what good is your apology?” so she demands a life for a life to atone for the sins. SWD tries to negotiate that his sister’s life does not merit a death sentence and HX asks in turn which of his family sinned? Which among them deserved death?

Both just remained silent and HX just wonders why can't they answer her now. So she makes them choose a way to atone for their sins: one SWD kills his sister and makes himself scarce or two SQX kills SWD and never shows herself in front of her again.

Forget everything that happened, it's what she does best after all; the choice is theirs. SWD tries to bargain that he'll kill himself instead but HX tells him he has no right to bargain.

SQX tells her brother to pick the first one but SWD rejects it so SWD just decided to kill both of them (him and her sister) but HX put a stop to it by hitting SWD with end of her gun telling him if she gave him a third path

then SWD starts laughing and mocking HX how everything she did for revenge was futile. SQX pleads with SWD that he stop talking because it just makes everything worse.

HX asks how could he have no remorse over the lives he trampled but SWD being the prideful man that he is tells him that remorse is useless and a joke

while SQX just calls for Ming Yi while clutching her leg begging her to stop and apologizing HX looked at her and said “you called for the wrong person” then she pulls the trigger and shoots SWD in the head

As HX was walking away SQX stops her again and asks in a dazed quiet voice if she is happy now that she got her revenge and asks hx if she can answer her just one thing.

Were all the time they shared real or did HX just use her for her revenge? Was there even a tiny space in HX's heart for her during that time?

HX stops but doesnt turn around to answer just says SQX already knows the answer to that the she asks back if she has something else to say to her but hears nothing,

HX continued to walk away just as SQX starts breaking down on the floor and begs to be killed why leave her like this? She already lost EVERYTHING, what's the point in living then?!

HX turns around at this and responds coldly “Dream on. If you have someone to blame for your misfortunes, blame your brother." and SQX lost consciousness then. For Shi Wudu his greed was his downfall, for SQX it was her ignorance.

After the whole ordeal HX took a break and lied low as the whole thing made it to the headlines since SWD is a well known person and a political candidate while his sister went missing, the police doesn’t know her whereabouts.

In reality SQX is setting up for her new life in a faraway town, far away from her old life in the city. While SQX was getting used to her new commoner life,

It was hard but not as bad as she expected since there seems to be someone looking out for her. She doesn't know who and she doesn't want to make assumptions.

She wants to think it's that person but maybe not, one of her brother's old friends perhaps? She is actually right in her first hunch HX still keeps tabs on her well-being but wont interact after everything that happened between them.

After everything HX still feels responsible for her because technically she is just a bystander who got caught in the crossfire. Her only sin was being ignorant of everything. It’s best that they don't cross paths ever again.

-THE END-

#mxtx #tgcf #beefleaf #shi qingxuan #he xuan #black water sinking ships #lady wind master #tgcf fanart #tian guan ci fu #heavens official blessing #heaven officials blessing #heaven official's blessing #mxtx tgcf #天官赐福 #贺玄 #黑水沉舟 #师青玄 #风师娘娘 #my art #fan art

[millie-multifics]

Though I Yearn • Part 5

Masters of the Air

Secret Admirer x Reader

Warnings: Gossip, mentions of death, mentions of cheating, singular use of a petname.

Word Count: ~1.3k

Masterlist

Part 1, Part 4, Part 6 Coming Soon!

x x x

After Douglass had made a big fuss, words of the letters had spread across Thorpe Abbotts like wild fire. Everyone was pointing their fingers at possible culprits, bringing the once quiet situation to absolute chaos. It had been weeks since a letter had arrived, the writer forced into hiding from the attention. The men had gone to Africa, their numbers dwindling on the journey, a few notable losses were Curt and Dickie. Replacements had arrived- you held such a hatred for that word.

You craved your own peace more and more as the days passed by. You had found a spot in the empty field passed the runways that was void of people, Lemmons crew left you alone.

“What are you doing out here?” Blakely’s boots crunced the weeds as he approached, his shadow blocking the sun from your eyes as they fluttered open.

“It’s usually quiet out here,” Your tone was teasing, “No questions, accusations or chatter. Just the birds, the breeze and occasionally the hum of a few planes. What are you doing out here?”

“You’ve got mail.”

You sat upright, brushing blades of grass from where they stuck to your dress. “New duty, Blakely?”

“You know you can call me Everett, I’d like to think we are friends of some sort.” He huffed as he handed over the mail. Three envelopes: one from home, one with a return adress of New York City and finally a new letter that was missing a return adress.

“Did Douglass send you out here? Since he is ever so concerned that he couldn’t help himself but to corner me in front of atleast half the company.”

“Carrier said they hadn’t seen you all day, entrusted me with your mail but you really ought to talk to Dougie, he feels terrible for bringing you attention like that.”

“I believe Lieutenant Dye’s celebration is underway, I thought you would be there?” You changed the subject, avoiding Blakely’s words just as you had been avoiding the man they were about.

“I’ll keep an eye out for you later on, save me a dance?”

You sent him a nod of agreement, waiting for him to be out of sight before turning your attention to the letters he had delivered.

You read the letter from home first, it was filled with the ususal wishes for your wellbeing and updates on events or gossip that you had missed. You did not recognize the loopy femine cursive on the envelope adressed from New York and it felt very thin between your fingertips. You open the flap, revealing only a single photograph inside. A man and woman in a busy street, he was handsome in his dress greens and she donned a plain yet elegant wedding gown… but it was not just a photograph of two strangers. Your fingertips gently ran over the mans face, absorbing his features as this was the first time you had set eyes on him since he had left you broken hearted on his porch not quite a year ago. There was a date written on the back of the picture, August 20 1943.

Despite the deep ache in your chest from the photograph, a spark of excitment filled you as you opened the third envelope. There had been a drought of letters from your Secret Admirer since the secret flooded the base, you had missed reading his words more than you had liked to admit.

“I did not intend to draw such attention and for that I must apologize. I have come to the conclusion if any of the men were to find out that these clandestine correspondence were written by me, I would be heckled for my aberrant ways. I am not perceived as a romantic, many see me to be brash and arrogent but since I met you I have been reformed. I feel a fool to be so cowardess with my affections while the possibility of death looms so heavily but I fear my mind over heart mentality will not crumble.”

Your mind spun, it was someone unexpected but who? With each letter you felt more more drawn to his words and your eagerness to discover the identity of the writer grew.

You clutched the recent letter and the photograph to your chest as you lay in the field, unbothered by the setting sun.

Hours had passed, the field had been swallowed by darkness but your body felt too heavy to move under the weight of the papers on your chest. The quiet yet rough trampling of the tall grass behind you alerted you to a new presence.

“If Blakely told you I was out here then he can find himself another dance partner.” You spoke loudly, nearly startling the man as he had not seen your silhoutte on the ground in the darkness, despite actively searching for you.

“That is a shame.”

The voice was unexpected, you honestly had expected it to be Douglass or DeMarco, maybe even Blakely with the intention of dragging you to the party but surely not Major Egan.

“Major, I thought you would be at Dye’s celebration?” Your eyes found his through the darkness as he now towered over you.

“I could say the same for you. Blakely mentioned you were out here earlier but when you failed to show at the party some of the men got worried. I volunteered to come check on you, I don’t think it’s safe to be out here in the dark like this.”

“I would hate to damper the celebration.”

“It got dampered anyway, sweetheart,” He moved to lay on the ground next to you, unbothered by any stains the grass may leave on his uniform, “By the men we have lost and the men we will lose.”

It was quiet for awhile, both enjoying the silent company of another person, unaware of the battling thoughts happening in the others brain. Your worries felt silly compared to his, he had lost friends and men under his command, you briefly wondered if he had volenteered to find you to escape the ghosts of them at the party.

It was silent for a moment before the Major spoke again, “The stars sure are pretty out here.”

Your eyes searched around the clouds, only a few bright stars visable in the dark of the night. “When they peek out of the clouds anyway.”

“Are you alright?”

The genuine concern in his question had taken you off guard. You took a second to debate how much you were willing to share with the Major as every aspect of your life had been previously aired, but remembered divulging a little to him before Dougie had brought attention. You handed the Major the photo you had recieved, glancing over as he angled it under the moonlight to see it clearly. “Before the war, it was all him, he was the one I would marry and bare my soul to. Suddenly everything changed, he had enlisted and just a week before our wedding I discovered that he was being unfaithful. I was foolishly willing to forgive him but he chose her, now they are married and I am here; my lonely soul wondering what is next for me, if my soulmate is out there somewhere or perhaps I am just unlucky and he won’t make it through this war so I shall forever be alone.”

You swallowed harshly, washing the thickness from your throat as your eyes burned looking up at the stars.

“What of your writer?” Egan returned the picture, his eyes scanning your face as the grass fanned your cheeks in the soft night breeze.

“How am I supposed to call someone mine if I don’t even know their name?” You sighed, heavily as if to lesson the weight, “I wish I could tell him that he makes the ache in my heart bearable.”

x x x

@jointherebellion215 @orchiidflwer

#masters of the air #mota fanfic #mota #mota spoilers #bucky egan #curtis biddick #apple tv #everett blakely #james douglass #john brady #major gale cleven #gale cleven #austin butler #john bucky egan #callum turner #major john bucky egan #major john egan

[surftrips]

SHAPESHIFT | CLARISSE LA RUE

pairing: clarisse la rue x female!reader

summary: clarisse wonders if you know just how much she likes you.

word count: 2.1k

author's note: this is the first part of a two part series i'm writing based on jenna doe's songs: shapeshift + pink slips. this is from clarisse's pov and the second one is from readers' :) lmk if you want to be tagged in part 2 <3

i. i think you have a type, and it's not me

Clarisse has been watching you from the second you arrived at camp. Since you spent every day doing more or less the same thing, she was able to pick up on your routine pretty fast. Two sugars in your coffee every morning. A walk around the lake in the afternoon. Archery practice before the sunset. 

She felt weird going to practices at the same time as you, but she couldn’t help herself. Whenever she got a chance to sneak away from her siblings in the Ares cabin, she always found herself back in your presence. However, the thought to approach you like a normal person had never crossed her mind. Clarisse is the kind of person that needs to be in control, and talking to you one-on-one would mean letting her inhibitions take over, so she always made sure to keep her distance. 

Once or twice, Clarisse had seen you on dates with another camper. At first, she thought you were just having a picnic with the girl from Aphrodite, until the two of you began holding hands. The next day, Clarisse saw you in the other girl’s sweater, which made her so sick she avoided you for an entire week.

The Aphrodite girl (her name, Clarisse later found out, was Stacy) began showing up with you more often. Stacy wore bows in her hair and pearl necklaces, whereas Clarisse’s mascara was always smudged and accessories that didn’t double as weapons felt wrong on her. For the first time, Clarisse wondered why she couldn’t just be like all the other girls. Or at least, a girl you would pay attention to. 

It wasn’t for a lack of trying. Clarisse tried to make her penchant for you as obvious as possible, while actively hiding it from the rest of camp. This proved to be difficult because at the same time, she also didn’t want to get too close to you because, well— what would she even say to you?

Her flirting consisted of winking at you during Capture the Flag or from across the dining hall. She had an ongoing list of nicknames of what to call you when no one else was around, but those moments were few and far between. Once, she even went as far as brushing away a stray piece of hair that had fallen on your face. There seemed to be nothing left for her to do except put bows in her hair or maybe paint her nails, and the thought of doing either of those things made her almost as sick as seeing you and Stacy together. 

Between her and the Aphrodite girl, she knew which girl you would choose. Had chosen. 

ii. mold me how you want me to be

Still, that was not going to stop Clarisse. She had never backed down from a fight before, and this was no different. Even if Stacy didn’t know it, she had become Clarisse’s number one enemy, even more so than that Percy Jackson kid that had recently shown up at camp. It just wasn’t fair that she had been watching you for so long and here comes Aphrodite’s daughter out of nowhere to sweep you off your feet. 

Since Clarisse knew your routine by heart, she devised a plan to get you alone. She decided that she would finally make a move, and then you could pick for yourself who you wanted to be with. Easy enough, right?

At night, Clarisse lay awake in bed thinking about you, Stacy, then you and Stacy together. Though she didn’t want to go there, her brain wondered what the two of you were doing at that very moment. Her thoughts ranged from tame, to slightly more unhinged. Like, were you lying underneath the stars on your picnic blanket? Or was Stacy doing your makeup as she straddled your lap?

Clarisse didn’t pray often, but ever since she met you, she had taken to silently wishing you would acknowledge her. Each time she saw you with your arms wrapped around Stacy, she yearned to know what that would feel like. Not that she thought you would come near her with a ten-foot pole. Stacy is sweet, like bubblegum or strawberries from the fields, and Clarisse is the opposite. If you tasted her, she might make your gums bleed.

Before you, she was never the kind of girl to care about her appearance. Gods, she was the daughter of Ares, they weren’t known for their beauty but their strength and power and when it came to those categories, Clarisse knew that she had Stacy beat. 

And yet, Clarisse would change just about anything about herself if it would make you like her more. In your hands, she would turn into putty, moldable clay to take the shape of your ideal lover. Hell, she would change her name if she thought you didn’t like the sound of it.

iii. kill anyone if you ask me to 

A few weeks later, the Ares cabin and yours happened to be on the same team for Capture the Flag. It was the closest Clarisse had been to you ever since you began dating Stacy. The proximity to you was killing her, but she had to stay focused—on winning the game and your heart.

Putting aside her wandering thoughts, Clarisse barked out instructions to the campers. When she got to your cabin, she assigned you and your half-siblings to be the second line of defense for the flag. Clarisse figured this way, she could keep you out of harm’s way. Also, this was her one chance to talk to you without Stacy hanging off your body and she wasn’t going to let this opportunity pass. 

After the first conch blew, Clarisse went on high-alert mode. Her team had lost the last game to Luke and Annabeth’s team, but she was not going to accept defeat this time. Her eyes darted back and forth between blind spots in the forest and you and the flag. 

As she absent-mindedly waved her new spear around, Clarisse heard soft footsteps behind her. She whipped her head around with her weapon aimed in the air, preparing to fight whoever had approached her. 

“Shit, Y/N, you scared me.” It was just you. Wait– it was you.

“I’m sorry, didn’t mean to,” you responded, your hands in front of you.

Clarisse almost couldn’t believe her eyes. Did someone poison her earlier and she was hallucinating right now? Okay, keep it cool.

“Is something wrong?” Clarisse managed to ask after composing herself, realizing that you had moved away from your post. 

“Uh, no. I- um… heard about what happened to your spear last week, and I just wanted to say I’m sorry,” you smiled nervously. 

“Why?”

“Why…. am I sorry?”

Clarisse wanted to slap her hand across her forehead. Why did she say that? She meant to ask why are you talking to me right now? What did I do to deserve this? But she didn’t know how to word that in a way that wouldn't make you think she was crazy. 

When she didn’t respond, you began backing away. “Look, I’m sorry if this is a sensitive topic. I just felt bad, is all.”

“No!” Clarisse began panicking. “I didn’t mean it like that- just, why are you talking to me now? We’ve never had a real conversation before.” 

“Does it matter?” She expected you to be confused, but the look at your face seemed more amused than anything. 

“No, I guess not,” Clarisse couldn’t help but smile. Gods, why was she so awkward? Anyone else, she would’ve been perfectly fine, but in the last few minutes, her mouth had gone dry and her legs felt as though they would give out at any second.

“Great,” you beamed in return. Clarisse’s eyes catch yours and the two of you stare at each other in content for a minute. Or at least, you are. Clarisse is convinced an Aphrodite kid has changed her pupils to hearts. “I haven’t seen you around lately,” you broke the silence. 

“What do you mean? I’m always around,” Clarisse stammered for an excuse. 

“Well, sure. It’s a small camp.” You seemed to be enjoying seeing Clarisse fumble for words. “But I used to see you all the time. At breakfast and archery.” 

Clarisse ignored the implications of your comment. “Oh, I guess we just started going at different times then. You know you’re always with Stacy now—” 

At the mention of your girlfriend’s name, your face contorted into something strange and unfamiliar to Clarisse. But before she could figure it out, a noise behind you caused the two of you to turn around abruptly. 

“Y/N, watch out!” Clarisse shouted at you, but it was too late. Someone had dragged you backwards, knocking your weapon out of your hand. You struggled to free yourself, but whoever was holding you had revealed a dagger and you didn’t want to risk accidentally cutting yourself. 

“If you know what’s best for yourself, let her go.” Clarisse breathed furiously, pausing between the last three words in her sentence. You couldn’t see who was restraining you, but you could feel their heart rate quicken at the sight of Clarisse’s spear getting dangerously close. 

“And what if I don’t?” they responded. You knew that they were just putting on a front, you could feel their chest heaving up and down on your back. Clarisse seemed to know this too, she’s always been able to sense fear in people— mostly because she is the one that invokes it. 

“I don’t think you want to find out,” she grinned, a wicked smile on her face. The next second, her spear had jabbed into the camper’s side, causing them to let go of their hold on you. You dropped to the ground. 

“Shit!” the camper swore, rubbing their ribcage. “You’re not supposed to actually hurt me!” You could see their face now, one of Hermes' kids you’ve seen hanging around Luke. 

“Now, what’s the fun in that?” Clarisse laughed. “Besides, the spearhead is blunt. You’ll be fine, drama queen.” 

The kid scrambled away, leaving behind the dagger they had previously threatened you with. Clarisse ran over, instinctively putting her hands on your face. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I think so.” You began to stand up, but Clarisse pushed you back down. 

“Clar, come on, I’m fine.” 

“Are you sure? Let me just get a look at you,” she insisted, ignoring the way your nickname for her made something in her stomach flip over. You relented, knowing it was useless to argue with her. You allow her to scan your body for any signs of harm. Clarisse took her time, unsure of when the next time she would be this close to you again. Most of your body was covered by your armor or clothes, so her eyes drifted toward your exposed arms and the area where the kid had touched you. 

Hesitantly, she reached for the side of your stomach. “Are you sore? Did they leave a mark?” 

“No, I don’t think so,” you shook your head, lifting up the hem of your shirt to see. You heard Clarisse’s breath hitch. “What? What’s wrong?” You were fully sat up now. 

“N-nothing!” Color rushed into Clarisse’s cheeks, causing her to turn her head away suddenly. 

You giggled, her reaction not going unnoticed. “Thanks for saving me, tough girl.” 

“Of course.” Clarisse pulled you up on your feet. “Anything for you, pretty girl.” The words slipped out of her mouth before she could register it. The two of you stared at each other again, it seemed as though eye contact was your main form of communication at the moment. And right now, Clarisse’s eyes were sparkling with something familiar, almost like how Stacy looks at you—

“Oh my god, babe! Are you okay?” Speaking of the devil, Clarisse rolled her eyes at the sight of your girlfriend running up. 

“Stacy! How’d you know something was wrong?” You were pulled into a stifling hug, the air thick with floral perfume. 

“Silly girl, I am the daughter of Aphrodite. I have a heightened sense for these things,” Stacy pulled her arms away and gave you a once-over, presumably to check for injuries, before smothering you with kisses. 

Clarisse coughed, once, and then again a little louder. “Oh!” Stacy turned toward her. “Clarisse, I didn’t see you there.” 

“I wouldn’t be standing here if it weren’t for her,” you said, sensing Clarisse’s uneasiness. 

Now, Stacy’s face contorted into something strange. Shamelessly, Clarisse took pride in being the cause of it. 

“Well, thank you,” she responded tersely. “Come on, let’s get one of the Apollo kids to look at you.” Stacy pushed you away before you could protest. You offered Clarisse a weak smile before turning around. 

Clarisse sighed, maybe if she had been a daughter of Aphrodite, she could shapeshift into someone you walked away with— not from.

That night, she prayed to Ares for the first time in months.

#WHERE ARE ALL MY SAPPHICS #WOMEN LOVERS #WARNING: YEARNING #clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #percy jackson series #percy jackson #pjo #dior goodjohn #dior goodjohn x reader #clarisse la rue imagine #pjo x you #clarisse la rue x you

[steddiealltheway]

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays :) This is way longer than I thought it would be, but it's been a while since I've written, so I think I needed it. I hope you all have a wonderful end to your year <3

Steve thought it was fate when he reached into Dustin’s old Santa hat and picked up a crumpled piece of paper with Eddie’s name scribbled on it. He had a gift stored away for Eddie that he bought weeks ago, and he was hoping there would be some way to get it to him without making it a big deal or something. Miraculously, the tiny slip of paper gave him that chance.

Now, two weeks later, Steve feels like his nerves are on fire as everyone gathers around in his living room, waiting to receive their gifts.

He goes off to the guest bedroom where the party had dropped off their gifts under the bed with the promise of not peaking - per Steve's request. Mike complained that the system was a little bit much, and Steve couldn’t argue with him. He just didn’t want to give away that he was Eddie’s secret Santa.

And now that he has pulled all the gifts out from under the bed, his stomach churns and his heart races. He just hopes his gift doesn’t cross a line or bring up unwanted memories, especially since he and Eddie aren’t exactly best friends.

Well, okay, they’re close. Considering the number of times Dustin has insisted they all hang out now that they’ve all been trauma-bonded, Steve has spent a lot of time with Eddie. But he hasn’t gotten a lot of alone time with him.

Sure, there have been a few times when Eddie has stopped by work, but Robin was always close by - not that Steve minded at all, except he got tired of the looks she would give him after Eddie left as if she was expecting Steve to say something. He doesn’t know what exactly he would say, but he will admit that it was always sad watching Eddie go. Maybe he should tell Robin he wishes he could stay a little longer, maybe even after hours.

The thought reminds him of the one moment they spent alone that Steve can't help but recall often. Even his present to Eddie is based around that moment which resulted in him purchasing something definitely higher than the price limit, but none of the kids would know that so it’s fine.

There’s a light knock on the door behind him, and Steve turns around. “Hey,” Eddie says with a small smile. “Everything okay?”

Steve smiles back, willing his heartbeat to slow down a bit. “Yeah, just trying to figure out how to get them all at once.”

“Let me help,” Eddie says, already bending over to grab half the stack that Steve had pushed out from under the bed. “You don’t happen to have a Santa suit do you?”

Steve’s eyebrows furrow. “No?”

“Damn. Next year, okay? And I want to be Santa.”

The corner of Steve’s lip quirks up and Eddie's eyes light up, looking awfully proud of himself. The two hold the gaze for a few moments longer than they should, but it’s not like that's new to them.

“Guys! What’s the holdup?!” Dustin yells.

Steve sighs and offers Eddie a now irritated smile before leading the way to the living room, glancing down at the names on each present before handing them out. He and Eddie finish around the same time, and Steve notices there are two clear spots for them in the small circle on either side of Dustin. He almost makes a snarky comment to Dustin, but he holds his tongue, knowing Max and El will shoot them irritated glares if they start bickering.

"El, why don't you go first?" Steve suggests as he sits down, not giving the rest of the kids a chance to argue about it. After all, no one is going to protest after all that El did for them.

El smiles and carefully opens her gift, but Steve spaces out a bit, lost in thought about his gift and questioning if it will be an appropriate thing to bring up in front of the kids. Eddie had shared the moment only with Steve and even hesitated in doing so, so maybe he doesn't want it to be broadcast to the kids. Shit.

Steve snaps back to reality when El knee-scoots over to Dustin, pulling him into a tight hug and thanking him for her present. Dustin flushes an interesting shade of red that Steve is definitely going to bring up later when he himself isn't panicking. For now, he moves the game along. "Alright, Dustin gets to open his gift now since he was the Secret Santa," Steve announces, nervously glancing at Eddie, hoping the excited look doesn't mean the gift is from him. He's not sure if he's ready for Eddie to open his gift yet.

Luckily, the gift is from Lucas, and Steve breathes a sigh of relief. But as the game continues and more people unwrap their gifts, Steve finds himself getting a bit impatient as he waits for someone to get their gift from Eddie. It's only when Max is last to open her gift that Steve realizes that he and Eddie are the only two remaining which means...

"No way," Eddie says with a big grin. "We're the only two who got each other."

Steve slowly looks down at the gift in his hand, neatly wrapped with a beautifully done bow that seems so unlike Eddie who always seems to be in a rush, doing everything with an almost frantic energy that Steve kind of adores. He wonders what he must've been like sitting still, carefully folding each curve of newspaper and taping it all together before neatly tying the red ribbon around the box into a beautiful bow. "You did this?" Steve can't help but ask, hoping he didn't just stick his foot in his mouth.

"Yeah," Eddie says somewhat bashfully as he pulls his hair in front of his face. "You do the honors." Eddie gestures to Steve's present and nervously rambles, "It isn't much really..."

Steve carefully undoes each fold, seeing the care Eddie took in wrapping a small box that Steve pulls the lid off of. He stares down at a small metal-looking thing and picks it up off the paper it's on top of. He presses it and startles a bit as it buzzes.

"A hand buzzer," Dustin laughs in disbelief.

"Maybe you two need to hang out more," El suggests innocently.

Eddie clears his throat. "There's a note in there, too, but you don't have to read it out loud in front of the kids or anything."

Steve keeps ahold of the little buzzer and picks up the note, staring at a few numbers in confusion before following an arrow that elaborates 24/7 Walkie Channel - especially at night. Steve flushes a bit red at the joke, but as he reads further, he realizes it's not a joke at all. In fact, he knows exactly what this is referring to.

-:-:-:-:-:-

Eddie walks up to the counter of Family Video and raps his knuckles on the counter. "Now tell me, what exactly is behind that restricted section with the red curtains?"

Steve rubs his temples and gives Eddie an unimpressed look. "You know exactly what's behind there."

"Well, maybe I want to hear it from my favorite employee. After all, you're supposed to help me with all my needs."

"Alright," Robin announces loudly, "I'm taking my break."

Steve hears the break room door shut behind him, and he drops his head in his hands with a slight groan.

"That embarrassed, Harrington? I thought you were like the expert here. Especially since Robin isn't allowed back there, but..." Eddie trails off but suddenly his voice gets much closer yet softer. "Hey, sorry. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. Sometimes I push too far without realizing and-"

Steve cuts him off with a short wave of his hand. "It's not that. You're fine really. Just didn't really sleep last night."

"Company or..." Eddie goes for a joke to lighten the second half of what he's implying.

Steve sighs and glances up at him. "It the 'or' option."

Eddie gives him a sympathetic look and glances around at the empty store before leaning on the counter, right into Steve's space, but it's comforting rather than intrusive. Eddie softly says, "I get it, man. The night terrors are... they're intense. I still see Chrissy when she..." He looks away, swallows hard, and takes a deep breath. "I get it."

Steve glances up and sees a matching haunted look in Eddie's eyes that Steve catches in the mirror from time to time. "It's harder late at night. I get this urge to reach out to everyone and make sure they're okay and..." Steve sighs and lowers his voice, "still alive." He shudders slightly and laughs humorlessly, "But it's not like I can just call everyone's house at night and wake up them and their family. I usually just wait for the urge to pass but it's harder for me with some people." Steve swallows hard, knowing what Eddie will ask next.

"Like who?"

Steve glances up at Eddie and says, "Robin of course because she's my best friend. Max is tough too because of how close she was to dying and you just never know if that thing will come back or not."

"He's gone for good this time. You know what Owens said," Eddie presses gently.

"Yeah, but I've heard it before," Steve argues. But he can't deny that things definitely feel more final now. Like maybe they're finally over. Still, he can't just let his guard down on the off chance that his gut isn't right for once.

Eddie shifts and nudges Steve's elbow with his own. "Anyone else though?"

Steve holds Eddie's gaze for a moment, and he sees the exact moment Eddie knows exactly what he's thinking as the memories of Eddie's lifeless body in Steve's arms flood in his head. "You were... gone there for a little while. And sometimes I wake up, and I think that you didn't make it. That the nightmare I keep having is actually reality."

Eddie gives him a pained look and places his hand over Steve's. "You can call me at any time. Day or night. I'll try my best to answer, especially at night."

"Eddie, I don't want to make you lose sleep any more than you already are."

"But I'm probably already awake. And I don't care if I lose sleep for you, okay?"

Steve glances up at him and flushes a bit as his eyes flicker down to Eddie's lips. For a moment, he thinks he might understand what Robin's looks mean, but he glances away before he can truly think about it. "That's not the only problem though," Steve confesses quietly.

Eddie just squeezes his hand, waiting for him to elaborate.

With a deep breath, Steve hooks his thumb on top of Eddie's pinky and squeezes back for some support. "I hate speaking in that empty house. My voice seems to echo, and it makes me feel more alone than I already am. And sometimes it feels impossible to speak about things. Like my voice doesn't work or something. I don't know."

"I get it," Eddie says simply, squeezing his hand again. "But really, if you ever need to call or stop by or anything. I'll be there." Steve holds Eddie's gaze, thinking maybe the upcoming night won't be so bad.

Before Steve can really say anything else, the bell on the front door dings loudly and he and Eddie practically jump apart. The customer doesn't even so much as glance at them, but they both still keep their distance, recognizing that the moment is over.

-:-:-:-:-:-

Steve stares at the little list in the note.

One Buzz: Checking in. I will buzz back so you know I'm okay. Two Buzzes: If you need to hear my voice. I will respond over the walkie and talk for as long as you like. Buzz multiple times, and I'll stop. And trust me, I will talk your ear off, so I won't get offended when you buzz. Three Buzzes: If you need me to call ever. Don't be afraid to use this one. Wayne is still working night shifts, so you're really no bother if you want to call first. But this way, I can be the one calling you so you don't have to worry about waking me up or anything. Really. The buzzes aren't too loud, so they shouldn't wake me up. Let me know if you want to add anything to this list. I have an identical list with my hand buzzer at home that I would be happy to add to at any time. Merry Christmas Love, Your Secret Santa

Steve stares at the note in his hand almost too stunned to speak. He doesn't think he's ever received a more thoughtful gift in his life. He pinches at his nose and tries to shut his emotions down a bit, and Eddie must catch on because he loudly announces, "My turn!"

Steve takes a deep breath, forgetting entirely about the gift he got Eddie. He watches as Eddie tears the wrapping paper off the small box then dramatically and very slowly opens it up with a big smile, knowing he has the kids' impatient attention practically in the palm of his hand. But when he finally sees the gift, his smile and whole act drop as a look of realization crosses over his face.

Steve's heart pounds in his chest.

Eddie slowly removes the little glass bottle filled with brown liquid and silently stares at it.

"What is that? Some type of fancy bourbon?" Max asks with a scoff.

Steve watches Eddie's eyes get slightly glassy, and he's quick to announce, "Something like that. But alright, we have to move on before your families start coming to pick you up. Was a snowball fight next on your cheesy list or something?"

Dustin is quick to defend the list the group came up with, but Steve is quicker in pushing them all toward the front door. "I'll be there in a bit. Eddie and I have to clean up."

The kids all rush to put on their coats and shoes, not wanting to be a part of any type of cleanup. Once they run outside, Steve closes the door and rushes back to the living room where Eddie's still staring at the bottle, a single tear going down his face. "You... you remembered... and you... you got... how?"

"Of course, I remembered," Steve says, thinking of what Eddie told him months ago.

-:-:-:-:-:-

Steve sighs and stuffs more things into a box from Eddie's closet. Dr. Owen's people had finally given the trailer the all-clear, so they were finally able to get the remainder of Eddie's and Wayne's things out of there. Of course, the kids had spent about an hour helping with the living room before taking a very very long break at Max's place. Steve assumes it will be lasting until the rest of the trailer is cleared out.

"They're great help, aren't they?" Eddie jokes as he brings another box into the room.

"Absolutely. Always willing to lend a hand. That is until they decide that the adults can just slave away for them."

"Someone needs to give them a lecture," Eddie sighs, pulling out a pile of clothes from his closet.

Steve scoots the box over and asks, "And why does that person always seem to be me? Especially when they don't listen to me."

"You're just so motherly," Eddie says with a big smile, dimples on full display.

Steve can't help but smile at the sight. And luckily he's staring his way when Eddie picks up another stack of clothes and suddenly hurdles something Steve's way. And even luckier, Steve's reflexes are quick, so he's able to easily catch the smaller glass bottle.

Eddie's eyes widen and he quickly grabs at the bottle, wrapping his hands around Steve's in the process. "Jesus H. Christ." Eddie's grip tightens as he stares at the bottle and breathes a sigh of relief, dropping his head to Steve's shoulder. "Have I ever told you that I'm so glad you're a jock?"

Steve snorts. "No, but whatever in this bottle must be important enough for you to admit it. So, tell me, what's in it? Alcohol? Some type of weird liquid drug?"

Eddie pulls back and looks away, still cradling the bottle and Steve's hands. "It's nothing. Just, hold it gently while I find another shirt to wrap it in."

Steve gently grasps the bottle and brings it closer, inspecting what it could be when he's hit with a bit of deja vu. He tests his suspicions and carefully removes the cap. "Eddie, why do you have an almost empty bottle of perfume in your closet?"

Eddie turns to him and asks, "Please, don't tell me you sprayed it."

"I didn't. The cap just gave it away."

Eddie quickly takes the bottle from his hand and puts the cap back on. "It's nothing. Like I said." He rolls it carefully in a t-shirt and places it in the box.

Steve slowly approaches and looks down at the box, frowning when he sees it start to blend in with the other pile of clothes in there. "I'll be right back," Steve announces before running out to his car. He opens the trunk and sighs, grabbing a shoe box and carefully placing his emergency date shoes in the corner of the trunk before taking the box inside.

When he gets back to the room, he reaches into the bigger box, fishes the shirt-wrapped perfume out, and places it gently into the shoe box before setting it aside. Steve glances up and notices Eddie staring at him. "Is that the emergency date shoe box?"

Steve is going to give the kids or Robin a lecture later about giving away people's personal information. "Yes," he admits.

"So, where are the shoes?"

"In my trunk," Steve says, moving onto Eddie closet to grab the last of the clothes.

Eddie pauses before asking, "You put your emergency date shoes the kids told me to never touch in your trunk to give me a box for my perfume?"

Steve shrugs. "Yeah." He stuffs everything down and closes the box, pushing it toward the door. But he's stopped by Eddie's hand on his arm.

"Why?" Eddie asks.

Steve straightens up and puts his hands on his hips. "It's clearly important to you, and I wasn't going to let you forget about it and accidentally throw it again when I'm not there to catch it."

Eddie holds his gaze for a few moments and Steve almost breaks the eye contact, not used to having Eddie's attention directly solely at him. But he feels like that will change in the future.

Eddie shifts and places a hand on Steve's back, leading him to where he placed the box. He picks it up and opens it, slowly unraveling the perfume and staring at it as if debating if he wants to share the story with Steve.

Steve just waits, not wanting to pressure him. Instead, he lets the moment play out.

Eddie breathes out, "It was my mom's."

It hits Steve all at once the implication of the phrase.

"She would wear it all the time. I remember she would put it on once in the morning, once in the afternoon, and once before going to bed. I told her it was silly to do that before bed, but she told me it was only silly if I let it be." Eddie smiles at the memory before growing distant in his expression. "When she got sick, she started forgetting the time more and more. So, I would remind her. And toward the end, I started putting it on her when she felt too weak to spray it."

Steve shifts and lightly rests his hand on Eddie's back as he continues, "I told my dad that she should be buried with it. That she would want to have it with her and wear it all the time." Eddie's voice cracks a bit and he clears his throat. "He told me that was silly."

Steve shifts closer to Eddie so their sides are pressing together, trying to give him physical support because he's unsure of what to say.

Eddie shakes his head and smiles sadly. "I kept it since then. And I used to spray it all the time, and god, the guys at school would make fun of me for smelling like girl's perfume, but I didn't care. But maybe I should've listened to them because now I only have this much left." He holds up the bottle to emphasize his point, the perfume so low that it seems to barely cover the bottom of the glass.

"One time, I brought it to a perfume store to ask what brand it was. I thought maybe I could save up and buy another one." Eddie shakes his head again. "But the lady accused me of stealing it. She said there was no way I would've been able to afford it in the first place. That there was no reason for me to even have it unless I was looking for a cheap buck to make."

Steve's grip on Eddie's back presses a little firmer as he feels anger and disgust toward the woman overflood his system. "That's fucked up."

"A bit, yeah," Eddie agrees. He glances at Steve, and Steve realizes how close they are, but he doesn't try to move away. "Do you want to smell it?"

Steve's brows furrow. "Eddie, there's barely any left in there, don't waste it on me."

Eddie smiles somewhat bashfully. "No, it's alright. I haven't used it in a long time, and after everything we went through, I need the reminder."

"If you're sure, then yes. I would love that."

Eddie holds out his wrist and lightly sprays the perfume. He uses his other wrist to rub it in before he holds it up to Steve's nose. Steve takes a deep breath and is suddenly taken back to a vague memory from a Christmas years and years ago when Steve was too young to succumb to the disappointment from his parents who were still around. But it's a happy memory nonetheless.

"What do you think?" Eddie asks.

Steve smiles softly. "I think your mom had great taste. And it smells really beautiful. I wish I could've met her."

"Me too," Eddie replies softly, staring at the bottle.

-:-:-:-:-:-

"My mom had the same one. Years ago it was gifted to her. I ended up finding the bottle in one of the drawers in her bathroom. It was still in the box, so it wasn't too difficult to find at the store," Steve admits. He holds out his hand and says, "Here. I have to show you something."

Eddie carefully places the perfume back in the box and takes Steve's hand, following him up the stairs and into his room. Steve regrettably lets go of Eddie's hand to pull out a box from under his own bed. He holds it up to Eddie who gasps, "Steve, this must have cost you a fortune."

Steve glances down at the five boxes of perfume and shrugs. "There was a Christmas sale. Plus, I was able to use my Harrington charm a bit."

Eddie grabs the box and carefully sets it on Steve's bed before quickly wrapping his arms around Steve and pulling him in close. "Thank you. God, this is the best gift I've ever gotten."

Steve squeezes him tight. "Same with yours."

They remain in each other's arms for a few moments, not rushing the embrace or questioning how long they're allowed to linger. Only, when Steve starts pulling away, he starts questioning his next move. Because more than anything he wants to kiss Eddie.

The realization hits him hard. He knows exactly now what Robin's glances mean and what she's been expecting him to say. Of course, deep down he knew, but he just hadn't had to face it head-on yet. But here he is and... "Eddie," Steve says softly, lingering in his space.

"Steve," Eddie replies quietly, eyes flickering down to Steve's lips, already knowing what he means.

Steve takes a deep breath, feeling his heart pound in his chest as he asks, "Can I?"

"Hell yes," Eddie replies.

They both move together at the same time, meeting each other in a gentle kiss which they linger in. Steve moves away to breathe and shifts to cup Eddie's face with his hands and bring him in again. He kisses him with all he has, filled with the awe of the thoughtful gift he received, joy of the gift well received, and the overwhelming feeling that this is right.

Steve breaks the kiss with a smile and whispers, "Merry Christmas, Eddie."

"Merry Christmas, Steve," Eddie says breathlessly before kissing him again.

And it really is a merry Christmas.

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #steddie ficlet #steddie fanfic #steddie fic #merry christmas #steddie christmas

[finelinevogue]

notes on love

summary - harry attends the football and you attend the baftas

pairing - fiance!harry x famous!reader

word count - ~1.5k

*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*

It was the first time Harry had made a public appearance in months.

Sans a hat on his head.

After braving a shave to solidify a new chapter in his life, Harry had decided that enough was enough and he just wanted to be seen again. Gain some new publicity.

“I can’t do this.” Harry’s voice rang through your phone.

Your phone was currently propped up on the vanity in front of you, whilst your stylist gracefully worked around you to get your hair and makeup done.

“H, baby. You’re going to a football match where over half the population there will be white bald men. You’ll blend right in.”

You took a sip of your apple juice in its carton as you suppressed a laugh. Harry rolled his eyes at you, taking the joke like the good sport he is.

“I actually have more hair than them. I’m not bald anymore.”

“See! Embrace the new hair, H. You look really good.”

Harry smiled at you then, his eyes which had previously been darting between watching you and looking out the moving car window were now permanently on you.

“Not as beautiful as you, though, love.”

“Don’t even have my makeup on yet.”

“Never needed it.”

You blew him a camera kiss for those words alone.

“Where are you now?” You reached for a slice of pineapple from the bowl of fruit you’d ordered from room service.

“About five minutes away I think. Are you still in the hotel?”

“Yeah. Don’t need to be ready until 5.”

You were getting ready for the BAFTAS, which Harry had hoped to be there with you for but you’d decided to take your nan as your date instead since she wanted to spend as much time with you as possible.

Harry was more than happy to let Nana, as he liked to call her, be your date to the BAFTAS. Plus, it meant that he could go see the football.

“You’re going to look so pretty.”

Harry had helped your pick out your dress, which was a sophisticated black to contrast the red carpet you’d be walking down. The dress itself was beautifully cut and shaped you in all the right places, making you look elegant and regal.

“I’m nervous.” You picked up your phone so the conversation felt a little more intimate, even though it was still over face-time.

“Why, love?”

“Don’t normally do stuff like this without you.” You pouted.

Harry wished he could kiss that pout away, “And yet the times that you do, you always end up winning! It’s like they never want you to win when i’m there.”

It was a running joke that Harry was your ‘bad luck charm’.

You didn’t believe that though. It’s just that other actors performed better and won, over you, because of it. If anything, you always won because you got to go home and drink hot tea and eat popcorn with your Harry.

“I’ll miss you.” Your face was so close to the camera that Harry could probably see up your nose.

“I miss you. Send me photos when you’re getting ready. I wanna see you before anyone else.”

“Okay.” You smiled. It was routine at this point to always show each other’s public outfits before anyone else.

“Have you got your ring?”

You held up your left hand and wiggled your ring finger in front of the camera. You blushed thinking about the moment that you got given the piece of delicate jewellery, with Harry on one knee.

“Always.”

“You going to wear it on the carpet?”

“Of course. Not going to draw attention to it though. I’ll let people discover it for themselves.”

Harry laughed at the thought. You two were practically the biggest, most A-List, celebrity couple around at the moment and so when people watch sight of you with the ring there’s no doubt it’s all people will talk about for weeks.

Someone told Harry they’d arrived at the venue, then.

“I have to go, honey, but text me updates please. Wanna see you get ready through photos, okay?”

“Okay.” You promised. “Text me to let me know you’re safely home later, please.”

Even though he was going back to his Manchester home, you still liked to know that he was safe and sound. Especially since you were in London and weren’t going to get to be with him tonight.

“Will do. I love you.” Harry kissed his fingers and then dotted them over the camera.

You returned the gesture, “I love you. Bye, bye, bye!”

•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•

You were just finishing getting ready and scrolling through Twitter.

Harry was trending worldwide for showcasing his new hair. His growing hair. No one had seen him like this since the end of Tour last year.

You pouted because you missed him a lot.

People were absolutely loving it. As always, a lot of people were losing their shit over Harry content. You were too, because you missed him.

“Oh, he looks so good!” Your stylist, Jamie, gasped behind you.

Jamie was currently fixing your hair and you had to say they had done an impressive job.

“I know.” You smiled to yourself.

“He looks like a sexy CEO.”

You laughed out loud at that, “When he puts on his glasses he does.” You agreed.

“Harry wears glasses?” Jamie gasped.

“Yeah, hang on..”

You started to go through your camera roll. It was only a few days ago that he had gotten new glasses, because he’d managed to lose his old ones. Typical.

You stopped on a photo of Harry sat in bed with the duvet up on his chest, a book in his lap and his glasses on. He didn’t realise you had taken the photo of him, but it was now one of your favourites.

“Oh damn…” Jamie gasped. “If your marriage ever goes south, tell him I’ll be available.”

You laughed again, shaking your head in dismissal but also approval.

You went back to Twitter to see if any of the Harrie accounts you follow have tweeted anything. You make yourself laugh as you look through their feral comments.

And just because you like to cause a riot on the internet you liked an insane tweet.

harriesmiles: the way that this photo makes me want to cling onto harry like a koala bear and never let go

It wasn’t long before you were trending with Harry.

Then the face-time call comes through from him.

“Am I done?” You asked Jamie quickly.

He nods, knowing you routine with Harry, and allows you to slip into the bathroom next to the bedroom.

You answered the call shortly after locking the bathroom door.

“Hellooo.” You said in a weird voice, feeling hyper from the Twitter craze.

“Hi, babe.” Harry was obviously outside and trying to watch where he was going, more than looking at you.

“Has the match finished?”

“Yeah.” And you honestly didn’t care enough about football to ask how it went. “Are you ready?”

Harry’s eyes flicked down to his screen momentarily, smirking when he catches sight of your glammed out makeup.

One thing Harry loved more than anything was you in a red-lip, so of course you had to make sure you had one for him - despite the fact he couldn’t kiss it off you tonight.

“What?” You giggled, watching him trying to suppress his smirk in public.

“You’re so annoying. I’m trying to act all cool and mysterious here and you’re making me smile like an idiot.”

You dipped your head and smiled, accentuating the blush that was already powdered onto your cheeks.

“H, honey, you’re walking through the streets of Manchester. No one cares about how you act. They’re probably all drunk anyways.”

“True, true.”

“Did you have a pint?” You propped your phone on the counter.

“Uh, yeah.” He said whilst trying to cross a road.

“Love, do you want to call me back when you’re at less risk of being hit by a car?” You sarcastically asked.

“No!” He yelped. “No. Needs to be now.”

You gave him a confused look but carried on regardless.

You shuffled back in the bathroom, giving him a full angle.

You watched in anticipation as Harry looked at you through his tiny screen, wishing it were ten times bigger.

“Wow.” Was all he said and you giggled like a girl having a high-school crush. “I love you so much.”

“So you like?” You swished your dress from side to side.

“Mhm. Wishing I wasn’t so far from you now.”

“Tomorrow. I’ll have all the kisses for you then.”

“Tomorrow it is, then.” Harry smirked to himself, kissing the camera.

Little did you know that tomorrow was coming a lot sooner. In fact, Harry had been running for the earliest train out of Manchester and down to London for the duration of the phone call. Because Harry was always going to show up for you.

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfic #ask finelinevogue #harry blurb #finelinevogue #harry styles concept #harry oneshot #harry styles blurbs #harry styles fic rec

[yourmidnightlover]

the sun

pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader

summary: after the events of the snap, you find out news that's both heart wrenching and warming. what happens five years later when bucky's back?

warnings: death, mourning, pregnancy, childbirth, canon-typical violence (not much but just adding to cover all the bases), loosely based on end game and infinity war (as in ignore my mistakes lmaooo), if i failed to mention any warnings PLEASE LET ME KNOW!

wc: 2.6k

a/n: dude idk why i've had an urge to write such heart wrenching angst lately. i'm actually in a decent place rn. i tried to cut this fic down bc originally it was SOOOO long i felt like a lot of it was just filler and i feel like shorter fics of mine tend to do better... ANYWHO! this does have a happy/hopeful ending so no worries! also picturing this beefcake for this story is AGHHHHHHH!

you never thought two lines on a stick could ever break your heart the way they did.

tears clouded your vision as you gripped the counter, trying not to crumble or succumb to your grief.

6 weeks ago, the avengers lost. everything.

half of the world, gone in a moment.

in one moment, your world collapsed. seeing bucky fade to dust right in front of you...

sobs wracked through your body as you crumbled to the ground.

this was supposed to be a happy moment. there should be tears of joy, not sobs of sorrow. your heart should feel full of love, not like there's a super-soldier sized hole in it.

"y/n," nat's voice rang outside the door, giving you a moment to yourself.

"just-," you tried to level your breathing before she opened the door, knowing but not understanding the grief you were feeling.

she wrapped her arms around your body, tucking your head into her neck as she gently rubbed your back soothingly. steve leaned against the bathroom door, glancing on the counter to see what they had all expected.

a positive pregnancy test.

you were having bucky's baby.

without bucky.

you gripped his dog tags that you had been wearing since the funeral. they were the only thing that could truly ground you.

they brought back happy memories of cuddling in bed, the cool metal shocking your skin for only a moment before realizing that it was only bucky and smiling at the memory.

god, it hadn't even been two months.

how were you supposed to do this alone?

"we're here for you," steve's voice called from the doorway, as if he could hear your thoughts. "you'll never be alone. not in this... not ever." he shook his head, his brows furrowed in a serious, straight line.

eventually, your sobs subsided. you stood with nat from your seat on the ground, wiping your own eyes mustering up a pathetic smile before she left you and steve to work out your grief together.

"we didn't even know it was possible," you shrugged. "it's like he sent me them..." you placed your hand on an invisible bump before facing steve, his teary eyes reminding you that he had lost his best friend, too. "he sent us this baby."

you reached your hand out for steve to hold. he took it gratefully and pulled you into his arms, hugging you tight and letting only a few tears slip his waterline before pulling back.

"if you'll let me, i want to be there for you for everything," his chin wobbled. "buck would kick my ass if i let you go through this alone." a genuine laugh left your lips for the first time in nearly two months.

"i would be so grateful for that," you nodded as you let go of his arms. "part of me still can't believe that it's real. it's like part of me still expects him to walk into the compound from a long mission or something..." you shook your head. "i know that sounds so stupid."

"it's not," he shook his head with a smile. "it's what i wish was true, maybe it's your subconscious trying to preserve your mind?"

"maybe," you shrugged before continuing, "i should probably talk to tony and bruce, huh?"

-

you knew you were around eight weeks along.

according to the doctors' tony had enlisted, however, you were already 12 weeks along, which was impossible.

bucky had been gone on a mission at that time... but it's whatever. you got to hear the heartbeat. steve went with you, too. you both bawled together. you kept three copies of the ultrasound and he kept two.

banner had already offered to do some testing on the dna of the baby, noting that the serum would likely affect the pregnancy (as it probably already has).

you had talked to tony about retiring from the whole superhero gig for the time being. you needed to mourn and prepare for a new life simultaneously. tony had promised to provide anything you needed at the drop of a hat, and he sure as hell delivered.

within no time, your pregnancy was being measured at 20 weeks while only being pregnant for 12. banner was concerned for your body's ability to keep up with the rapid rate of growth of the baby. he had you on a strict, hefty diet with two different prenatal vitamins in attempt to help your nutrition.

in spite of your best efforts, you were always exhausted and in pain. but you wouldn't trade it for anything in the world. this was bucky's baby. you didn't care how much pain you went through when you had half of him growing inside of you.

you couldn't walk for long without feeling like passing out, which banner chalked up to low iron. steve had grown progressively more worried for you and the baby the longer the pregnancy went on.

as a result, he had moved into the spare room that was in your and bucky's house. truly, it just made it easier for him to help you finish up the nursery anyway.

he was very handy about it all, painting, building furniture from scratch, the whole deal.

"i've been thinking... and if it's a girl, i want to name her evangeline james barnes," you informed steve as you ate the steak he had been making for the past few weeks of your pregnancy, as ordered by dr. banner. that with carrots, broccoli, potatoes, and for dessert strawberries, blueberries and raspberries over ice cream. "and if it's a boy, cyrus james barnes. evangeline means good news, and cyrus means sun."

steve placed his hand over yours, "i think buck would've loved them." he smiled warmly as you downed the food in a few minutes.

you had begun showing soon after you found out you were pregnant, but now, it felt like it was impossible to hide. nat had been wonderful about helping you keep up with the changes your body was going through, getting you new maternity clothes every week.

she even made sure to get you every single craving that wasn't in accordance to banner's hefty diet. not that he didn't want you to eat more, he thought it was best you did! but he also wanted to make sure that with all that you did eat, your body got as many nutrients as possible.

just to be safe, he kept you on other vitamin supplements anyway.

you couldn't help but imagine what bucky would say or do about everything now.

he would hold your body closely, pressing firm kisses to your bump every chance he could get while whispering some sickly sweet sayings to your unborn child, words that would melt the winter soldier's cold exterior.

he would whisper words of encouragement any moment you felt worried about your abilities to be a mom. he would say how beautiful you were, in spite of being bloated in places you didn't know could bloat.

he would be wonderful, and in your mind, he was still alive and vibrant. well, as vibrant as bucky ever was, at least.

truthfully, that's the only way you were able to keep going on like this. steve was wonderful, but you couldn't help but want the love of your life by your side as you tried to navigate this new chapter.

in a couple more weeks, you were projected to be at 32 weeks. bruce and tony were talking with your doctors about the safety of inducing so early, both for you and the baby.

oh, and you wanted the gender to be a surprise.

and within the week, you were having your baby.

steve and nat were by your side during the birth, whispering encouraging words and compliments of your strength.

"i need him!" you screamed in pain as you held one of each of their hands, sobbing in agony. "i need james! i need my bucky! i can't do this alone, i can't-i can't!"

"you can," nat reminded you. "this baby needs you," she held your face to look at hers. "bucky is a part of this baby." you swore you could see tears in her eyes before turning to face steve.

"remember what you told me when you found out you were pregnant?" he didn't bother wiping the tears from his face. "bucky sent you-sent us this baby. he knows you can do it." you sniffled before nodding at your two best friends, pushing with one last scream and a second later, you had...

"cyrus james barnes," the nurse called to you. "it's a boy, congratulations mom."

-

the next few years went by quicker than you could've ever imagined.

crawling, first words, first steps...

you missed bucky. not a day passed where you didn't miss him.

but, having cy helped a lot. he looked just like his father. dark brown hair, icy blue eyes, a cute little nose... not to mention his father's stubbornness.

you made sure he knew who his father was. you took him to the museum often, showing him the statue of his father and his background in the world war, him saving the world so much. you told him how you fell in love with him.

how you fell for the quiet man before ever really talking to him. how you were partners on a long-term, undercover mission and that's where your love ignited from the sparks.

not that cy understood any of what you told him. you just felt it was important to know that his parents loved him, and each other dearly.

you never took off his dog tags, either.

steve was a huge help the whole time. he kept working for the avengers, so he was gone often, but he provided a good male role model for cyrus. after all, he was his uncle steve. he already taught him how to throw a ball, albeit a little softball, but it counts!

you made sure to document everything that went on in yours and cyrus's life.

banner had said that cyrus was growing at an exceeding rate, but nothing to be concerned about. in fact, cyrus was turning five in almost half a year, meaning the anniversary of bucky's death, or disappearance or whatever you called it, was coming up.

then, you got a call from tony and banner.

it all happened so quickly, from testing to planning to the execution. pepper watched cyrus for you while you went back with steve, scott, and tony to get the tesseract.

of course, the men being men had to come upon a few hiccups, but eventually, after going as far back as the 70s, you brought back the tesseract.

the only thing is that nat never came back...

next thing you know, bruce is snapping his fingers and clint is getting a call from his supposedly deceased wife. your eyes fill with tears, hands searching in your pockets for your phone to see if you've gotten anything yet.

is it possible he wasn't brought back? he was the first to... disintegrate. die. maybe that meant something in the eyes of the stones?

then, you felt a buzz in your hand.

although, you didn't have any time to try to grasp what that meant, because more aliens came to earth.

shocker.

after yet another war, one that you weren't even prepared for, after losing more people, again. after losing tony...

but amidst the chaos of the aftermath of the fight, with screams of joy and shock and grief surrounding you, tears streaming down your face, your eyes met the blue ones you only saw in your son.

he slowly walked towards you as the tears sped up. you didn't even realize when your feet began running towards him.

when his arms wrapped around your waist, you finally felt the home you thought you had come to terms with never feeling again. your arms wrapped around his neck, your face buried in his shoulder as you breathed in the scent of gunmetal that had overtaken him in the battle.

"oh my god," you cried into the leather of his jacket. he lifted you off the ground, your legs wrapping around his waist as you felt his smile on your cheek. "i can't believe you're really here."

"i'm here, doll," his hands cradled your head so tenderly. "i'm not ever leaving again. never."

you pulled back before your eyes widened in realization. "you've gotta meet someone, jamie."

his brows furrowed in confusion, just smiling and nodding along with whatever you said.

within the next few hours, simply being held by bucky before steve stole him away with a hug, you finally brought him home.

"so, steve moved in," you started as you pulled your car into the driveway, turning to see bucky looking at you with an incredulous look. "you'll see why." you reached to hold his hand before he brought yours to his lips, pressing a kiss there.

you told him to wait in the car as you went inside to relieve the babysitter for cyrus. after giving him some cash, he went outside, knocking on your car window to let bucky know he should make his way inside.

upon entering, he saw you sitting on the floor with a little boy with striking blue eyes that seemed so familiar to him. his nose, too. his lips though, they were all yours. he had a slight grin plastered on his lips, one that matched yours to a t.

"daddy?" suddenly, it all clicked.

his heart, his mind, his fucking soul, everything made sense now. the pain, hydra, the mind washing, the torture.

meeting you. falling in love. dying?

his son.

he started walking closer to bucky before the steady walk turned into a run. bucky knelt down, wrapping the boy in his arms, cradling his tiny frame in his arms protectively. his son.

"cyrus james barnes," you said with a teary smile on your face. bucky, without breaking the hug with his son, looked up at you with a smile that matched yours. "cyrus means 'sun', and i thought it was fitting. he brought me so much light and hope after you..." you choked up before he stood up with cy in his arms, walking towards you before wrapping you in the big, family hug.

"i love you so much, both of you."

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff #james bucky barnes #marvel #sargeant barnes #bucky #sargeant james barnes #james bucky buchanan barnes #james barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes hurt/comfort #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes whump #bucky x avenger!reader #bucky x fem!reader #dad!bucky

[free-therapy-for-me]

Hey quick question into the void: does getting friends ever get easier?

#basically I’m on a three week long language camp #finishing the second week #and it’s the first time I’ve went somewhere for so long completely alone #like without a a single w friend or family member #and honestly: it’s been miserable #back at home I have one best friend who I cannot be thankful enough for #but we’ve known each other for well over ten years and sometimes I feel like that’s the only reason we’re friends #and most of the other people I’m friends with in school are also her friends #so I’m never sure if they actually like me or do we just hang out together #anyways I’ve been on this camp for two weeks now and I haven’t made a single friend #sure I went out with some people but we never talked or anything #and I don’t really talk with my roommate cause she doesn’t speak English #this all got me feeling honeslty terrible and I’ve never had high self-esteem #but there’s not even anything left at the bottom of the barrel to scrape #and now I’m even more terrified of falling out with her #and I know for a fact that we’ll be studying in different countries #and now looking at it I don’t even know what the purpose of this post was #I just want to know will it always feel this lonely #and is anyone out there who also has similar problems but managed to overcome there later in life

[punkshort]

somewhere to run | 5. first date

Pairing: sheriff!Joel x f!reader

Chapter Summary: You are left picking up the pieces from the events of the carnival night, in more ways than you expected.

Chapter Warnings: language, angst, PTSD type symptoms, mutual pining, jealousy, domestic violence and implied SA (nothing descriptive), mental and physical abuse, bar-fight type violence

WC: 6.8K

A/N: This is a tough chapter, please heed the warnings and if anyone thinks I need to add anything, please let me know

Series Masterlist

You stared listlessly at the blades of the ceiling fan swirling above your head as you listened to the town waking up outside your window. It was getting harder and harder to force yourself out of bed, the all too familiar feeling of emptiness weighing you down with each passing day.

It's been almost a week since that night at the carnival. Almost a week since you've seen him. You wished you could remember what his lips felt like, but whenever you thought about that night, all you could see was the look on his face when you finally told him the truth. His hands dropped from your waist like you had burned him. His eyes hardened like you had slapped him. And before you even had a chance to explain, he was gone.

It was a miracle you were able to make it home, tears clouding your vision as you drove down the quiet streets back to your little apartment, all alone. At first, you had tried to convince yourself that it was for the best, but after an hour, you weren't so sure anymore. So, you picked up your phone and called him. You weren't even sure what you would say, but you needed to try to make things right. It didn't end up mattering, anyway. He never answered, which should have been telling for what was to come, but you still persisted.

You called him two more times - once more that night, and again the following morning, but still he ignored your calls. Now, you stared at your phone, looking at the unanswered texts you sent, hoping he would be tempted to respond that way, but there was no such luck.

Please call me back, I want to explain.

I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you.

Where are you?

The last text was sent Monday afternoon when he didn't show up at the diner for the first time since you started. Even Betty looked shocked, but you wouldn't tell her what happened. How could you?

The rest of the week was the same. Every day you glanced up at the door, hoping to see his familiar frame walk through, hoping that maybe enough time would have passed for him to give you another chance, but all week he was missing.

You overheard Tommy talking with Maria in the kitchen, asking if she had seen his brother. Was he doing this to make things worse for you? Inevitably, the truth would come out if he kept this up, and you would be left to deal with the onslaught of questions. Was he purposely trying to hurt you?

Little did you know, later that evening you would receive your answer.

It was Friday, and you were on the schedule for the dinner shift. At least you had the luxury of laying in bed, sulking with only your overpowering guilt and the enormous stuffed penguin he won for you to keep you company. You stared at it now, wondering why you didn't shove it in your closet so you wouldn't have to look at it every time you walked into your room. But you knew the answer. You were punishing yourself for being selfish, for being dishonest, for being a horrible person who deserved what she got.

Eventually around noon, you pulled yourself out of bed, hunger getting the best of you and the smells from the pizza place downstairs didn't help matters.

You got a reminder on your calendar that you were supposed to go to book club tomorrow night. Aside from work, you hadn't left your apartment all week. You had to cancel. There was no way you would be able to go through with it. You could barely muster the energy to shower, and the only reason you managed to drag yourself to work was for the money. No longer did you have anything to look forward to now that Joel made his feelings crystal clear with his absence. What little enjoyment you had in this new life was long gone.

Deciding that you should take a short walk to try to clear your head and grab a treat from the coffee shop, you tugged on jeans and a T-shirt before pulling your hair back and grabbing a pair of sunglasses before heading down the stairs. At least with the sunglasses you could avoid eye contact.

Right as you were locking up after yourself, you heard your name. You grimaced but turned around and forced a smile when you saw Hailey approaching with a friendly wave.

"Hey," you said, giving her a small hug when she got closer.

"I haven't seen you all week! Have you been sick or something?"

"Something like that," you mumbled, adjusting your sunglasses.

"I've been trying to catch you, I wanted to show you some pics from last weekend. You were there, right? I thought I saw you tagged in something," Hailey said as she scrolled on her phone, presumably looking for pictures she took from the carnival.

"Tagged?" you repeated, confused. She nodded and held up her phone, showing you the Facebook app. You shook your head and frowned.

"I'm not on Facebook," you said to her. She pursed her lips and swiped through a few images before finally stopping on a video. It was terrible lighting and the sound was awful but you could clearly see the yellow dress you were wearing as you watched Joel play the target game. Even from the shitty video you could see the obvious attraction in your eyes as you gazed at him. A chorus of cheers followed after each pull of the trigger, but your eyes remained glued to Joel's back, frozen in place.

"Isn't this your page?" she asked, clicking on your name and showing you the profile. You took the phone from her with shaky hands, scrolling through the information and pictures listed. It was you. Everything listed was correct, but you never created this page. You wouldn't have been that stupid. Then the realization hit you and your blood ran cold.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and went back to the video, noticing at the top the location was tagged along with you, Joel, and a few other people from town you barely recognized.

"Oh my god," you whispered to yourself.

"What's wrong?"

You handed her the phone back, tears burning the back of your eyes.

"I'm sorry, I gotta go," you said, turning back around to fumble with your keys. You raced up the stairs, making sure both doors were double locked before hiding in your bedroom, your phone clutched in your hand as you looked up your fake profile, trying to learn more but you already knew.

Patrick was coming for you.

You were downright terrified to work that night. If he found you, and it was just a matter of time at this point, he most likely would wait until you were alone. He would wait until he could follow you, find out where you lived, and only then would he make his move. The idea of walking home at night seemed like a really bad idea, so even though it was a ten minute walk, you chose instead to drape yourself in an oversized hoodie with sunglasses and jog to your car, glancing nervously around the parking lot for any suspicious vehicles before sliding into the driver's seat.

Anxiously, you checked your mirrors the whole short drive to the diner, but it didn't appear that you were being followed. You knew once you got to work, you would be safe. Being around other people was your only defense. Then you had the weekend off, so you could hide and figure out what to do. All you had to do was get through your shift.

The diner was busy. It was Friday, and the carnival was no longer in town, so people were going back to their regular routines. Many people in town tended to stop by for dinner before the only movie theater in town ran the 7pm showing, so that typically meant a 5:30 rush.

Fortunately, you were busy. It helped keep your mind off everything: Patrick. Joel. The mess you created everywhere you went. It was all pushed to the back of your mind as you ran around the dining room, dropping off food and wiping down tables. You hadn't even noticed the familiar voice talking to Maria at the hostess stand, even though you had been yearning to hear it all week.

You were filling the ice when you heard him somewhere behind you, and you were so relieved you almost cried. Finally, he came back and you could explain to him what happened. He was the sheriff, after all. And you trusted him. If anybody might be able to do something to help you, it was him.

You turned around with a deep breath, then froze at what you saw. Joel was seated at one of the booths, not at the counter like he typically would be, and gazing adoringly across the table at Nikki.

He was on a date.

You thought you were going to be sick. You clutched your stomach and turned away, blinking back the tears but before you could go hide in the back, Maria spotted you.

"Do you mind taking care of Joel? Gina's got too many tables," she asked. You thought you would faint the way all the blood drained from your face. All you could manage to do was nod, and she hurried back to the hostess stand, completely oblivious.

You forced your feet to move, keeping your gaze down as you pulled out your pad of paper and pen with shaky fingers and forcing a weak smile when you approached their table. You weren't sure if his intention was to have you wait on him, or if he just wanted you to see him with another woman, or maybe he didn't care about you at all. But his reaction gave you nothing to work with since he barely spared you a glance when you greeted them. However, Nikki recognized you and gave you a warm smile.

"I don't think I knew you worked here!" she said, and when Joel realized you knew each other, he finally seemed to react. A muscle in his jaw twitched when he dragged his gaze up to look between the two of you, no playfulness or warmth to be found in his eyes. You swallowed and tried to focus on your job, ignoring Joel as best you could, but Nikki spoke before you could even get the specials out.

"We know each other from book club," she explained to him before turning back to you. "Will I be seeing you tomorrow?"

"Oh, um, no I don't think so," you said nervously, feeling Joel's eyes burning a hole in the side of your head.

"Oh, that's a shame! We had such a fun time last month," she said with a giggle. You had to admit, they made a good match. She was beautiful and seemed very nice. You should be happy for them both, but you knew the moment you got home, you would collapse into tears.

"You should go," Joel said gruffly, and it took all the strength you had to make yourself look at him. He no longer gave you the same look he used to, and it broke your heart. He looked at you like a stranger, like he barely even knew you. It felt more painful than anything Patrick ever did.

"Maybe I will," you said, tearing your eyes away from him. Before Nikki could say anything else, you rambled off the specials, your mind on autopilot. You ripped a hole in your paper with your pen when you saw out of the corner of your eye Nikki link her fingers with his across the table. You mumbled something about being right back and hurried off, tears welling up in your eyes.

This was too cruel. You endured a lot in your time, but this? This was too much.

As you filled up their drinks and flicked away a stray tear from the corner of your eye, you heard Joel's voice clear his throat behind you at the counter. You turned around, drinks in hand. He was leaning over the counter, trying to stay hidden from sight.

"I didn't mean for -"

"It's fine," you said coldly, staring him down. He blinked at you, and for the first time you saw a shred of guilt pass over his features. When he didn't say anything else, you shifted your weight and glanced over his shoulder at Nikki.

"You better go. Your date's looking for you."

His gaze fell and he pinched the bridge of his nose, about to say something else but you didn't let him. You could only take so much. By the time he looked back up, you were halfway across the dining room, setting down their drinks and giving your attention to your other tables.

You drove home that night with hot tears finally trailing down your cheeks, your mind completely fixated now on Joel and Nikki. It hurt how he moved on so quickly. Maybe you misread him. Maybe he was just looking for a conquest and nothing more. What else would possibly explain it? For the first time, you wondered if you were the one better off after all.

Would he kiss her goodnight? Would they have sex?

Did they already have sex?

You parked your car and hunched over the steering wheel, letting the tears flow freely now that you were home and no one was around.

A sharp rap on your window pulled you out of your misery, making you jump. You wiped your cheeks before turning to look, your eyes widening and your heart immediately getting stuck in your throat.

Patrick just shook his head in disappointment, then beckoned you out of the car with his index finger. With a shaky hand, you reached for the door handle and swung it open, sliding out of the seat and taking a deep breath. Just when you thought the day couldn't get any worse.

"When are you gonna learn I'm never gonna give up on us, babe?"

After he left, you laid there in your bed, staring up at the fan swirling above you once again and the smell of that fucking cologne permeating your sheets. This wasn't what was supposed to happen. You couldn't help but think you brought this on yourself. Maybe if you didn't go to that fucking carnival in the first place, none of this would have happened. Joel wouldn't be icing you out, Patrick wouldn't have found you, and you wouldn't be cleaning up the mess he left between your legs while you sobbed over the bathroom sink. Every time this happened you were eternally grateful for your oldest cousin back home who took you to get birth control at the local clinic behind your husband's back. If not for her, who knows how much worse things would be.

But here you were, finding yourself slipping right back into the same situation you were trying to escape. This time, he promised to go to AA and NA. He promised he would try to get better. Part of you wanted to believe him, because what other choice did you have? He would always find you. And it was encouraging he didn't insist on staying with you at your apartment, nor did he hit you. This time.

Just as you were contemplating whether or not to flee again, your phone buzzed on your nightstand. You sighed and made your way over, your body and mind exhausted, the events of the day catching up with you. You lifted your phone up and froze. Blinking a few times, you sunk down into your mattress and opened up the message.

Joel: I'm sorry about earlier

You sniffled and stared at your phone, having no idea what to say. Had he just texted you the day before, or even that morning, maybe things would have been different. You decided to ignore it for now, turning your phone on silent before crawling under the covers and trying to block out the smell.

After a fitful night's sleep, the next morning you eagerly checked your phone, hoping for another text from Joel, but you only had one from Hailey. Disappointed, you opened it up, reading her message about book club that night and who was hosting. You reluctantly agreed to go at the last minute, figuring you would at least be around people for a little while, meaning you would be safe. Besides, you wouldn't be able to avoid Nikki forever. The town was too small and you were sure everyone was already buzzing about their date last night.

You swiped back to your message with Joel, staring at the words again, wondering if you should respond. What if he wasn't alone? What if Nikki spent the night with him? You put your phone down, choosing once and for all not to reply before burying yourself under the covers again.

Going to the book club meeting was a mistake. You politely declined a glass of wine, and you regretted it about twenty minutes in when Nikki began telling the whole group about her date with Joel.

You sat there, listening to every word, each one like a stab to the heart while she told all the ladies about how chivalrous he was when he picked her up, what they talked about, what movie they saw. Every minute bringing you closer and closer to tears.

That could have been you if you had just been honest with him, or maybe just stood up for yourself once in a while instead of letting Patrick steamroll you every chance he got for the past five years.

A couple women glanced your way as Nikki spoke. You had to imagine some people saw you together at the carnival. Towards the end of the night, the heat between you was palpable, but you were pretty certain nobody saw you kiss. You did your best to look indifferent, to act like Joel was just a friend and there were no feelings there, but it was hard. At one point, Hailey asked if you were okay and you had to lie about having a headache, hoping it would explain your quiet behavior.

"It was a little strange at the end of the night, though," Nikki said, finally wrapping up her story.

"How so?" one of the older ladies asked, and you could see the flush creeping up her neck before she even spoke.

"Well, he didn't seem to take my hint about coming inside for coffee when he dropped me off. Or maybe he just didn't want to..." she said, trailing off.

"Oh please, who wouldn't want to," Hailey chimed in, making Nikki giggle. "He's probably just so rusty he wouldn't know it unless you made him a big neon sign that said 'Joel, sleep with me'."

That caused a ripple of laughter amongst the women and you took a steadying breath, already planning on announcing you needed to leave early due to your fake headache when Nikki added one more piece of interesting information.

"Yeah, maybe. But even saying good night, it felt like he didn't really want to kiss me."

"But you did kiss?" another woman asked, and she nodded.

"It was... not what I expected," she admitted, pink dusting her cheeks as she took another sip of wine for courage.

"What do you mean?" Hailey asked, and you silently thanked her for being so nosy so you didn't have to ask the same questions that kept popping up in your head.

"I don't know, I thought he would be a better kisser. It was very... boring. Like, there was no passion or excitement."

All the other women murmured to themselves in shock while you remained perfectly silent. That was most definitely not the experience you had kissing Joel.

Fortunately, they moved on from the topic of Joel shortly thereafter, and you decided to force yourself to stay until the end. Given how horrible the whole week had been, you allowed yourself to feel a little bit of hope after Nikki's comment.

He didn't want to kiss her. Maybe you could still figure out a way to fix this.

Joel groaned as he rolled over in bed and snatched his phone off the charger, glaring at the device and mentally cursing whoever texted him so fucking early on a Sunday. Then his sleep addled brain jolted awake and his heart skipped a beat, wondering if your name was going to pop up on his phone again, but he was met with instant disappointment when he saw Nikki's name instead.

That couldn't be a good sign.

He should be happy to see that Nikki texted him. Deciding to blame it on the early hour and nothing more, he moved past it and set his phone back down to read the message later. He closed his eyes and sighed. Now that he was awake, all of the turmoil from the past week came rushing back to him, always plaguing his every waking moment.

He hadn't realized how much you were hurting until he finally saw you at the diner that night. It was one of his biggest regrets, taking Nikki there. He knew what he was doing, but he did it anyway, and it hurt you. But you didn't deserve that. Even though you nearly shattered his world with your secret, you still didn't deserve it.

His intention was to try to prove he wasn't as hung up on you as he really was. That it was fine that you were married. That he could move on.

It was a little cruel to go right to Nikki. He knew she had feelings for him, and he took advantage of it, all to prove he was over you. And it wasn't even true. He couldn't stop thinking about you. And now he was going to end up hurting two women, just to protect his ego.

So he decided he would try to make it work with Nikki. She was a pretty girl, she was nice and kind. Maybe, in time, he could develop real feelings for her. But when she kissed him the other night, he felt absolutely nothing. Not like what he felt when he kissed you. And that worried him.

If he knew now what he would be missing out on, could he really be happy with someone who didn't give him a fraction of what he felt with you?

He wished more than ever that he didn't let his emotions get the best of him that night. Maybe you had a reasonable explanation. He couldn't fathom what that could be, but he should have at least heard you out. You wouldn't have intentionally hurt him. In fact, you tried to tell him, in your own way. You constantly pushed him away, kept him at arms length, but he just kept coming back for more. Was it even your fault? Did he pressure you so much that you were forced to share something you weren't ready to share?

Letting his desperation win, he picked up his phone again and checked to see if you maybe texted him back in the last five minutes. When he quickly determined you didn't, he opened up Facebook. Maybe you replied to his private message on there.

Joel didn't get nervous often. He had a steady hand, a level head, and had a knack for seeing two steps ahead. He typically had a calming presence, which fit well for his job when he was able to de-escalate situations naturally and with ease.

But today, he was nervous.

For whatever reason, you didn't respond to his text message the other night, but you did decide to respond to the Facebook message he sent at an ungodly hour in the hopes he could get through to you some other way. And by some miracle, it worked.

You had agreed to meet him for coffee and talk. It was unexpected, he thought he would have to try harder, but you were very agreeable to seeing him.

He wasn't sure what he would say exactly, but he knew he wanted to apologize sincerely and give you the opportunity to explain your situation. If not to get some closure, then to at least make going back to the diner less uncomfortable.

He took a deep breath as he raked his fingers through his hair and swung open the door of the coffee shop. He glanced around the room before his eyes fell on you: hunched over and staring down at a small cup of coffee on the table in front of you.

He took a step forward, then stopped when he saw a man with a buzz cut and a beard sit down across from you. Joel didn't recognize him and he was fairly certain he could recognize just about anybody in town at this point. Something about the way you glanced up at the man across from you set his teeth on edge. You didn't smile. You didn't laugh. You looked pale and your eyes looked tired. He watched as the two of you exchanged a few words, and based on the man's body language, the mood was tense. Then suddenly, he reached his arm out across the table to grab your wrist and you jumped, fear flickering across your face. Even from this distance, Joel could see the whites of the man's knuckles as he squeezed your delicate skin under his firm grip.

Joel's nostrils flared and his jaw clenched and before he knew it, he was marching over to your table. Your eyes flicked up when you noticed him, looking like you had seen a ghost. Your eyes widened and your lips parted as you sat back in your chair. The man you were with noticed your reaction and finally loosened his grip, and you immediately tucked your hands on your lap underneath the table. He turned around and looked up with a scowl just as Joel approached.

"Everythin' alright here?" Joel asked, staring at you. You opened your mouth to reply, but the man across from you stood up, cutting you off.

"Everything's just great, Joel," he said with a sneer. Joel tore his eyes away from you to regard the man you were with. He looked him up and down, sizing him up, before answering.

"Sorry, have we met?"

"In a way," he said, crossing his muscular arms across his chest. Joel glanced at you again, but you were just staring down at your coffee cup, refusing to look at either of them.

"Don't look at her, look at me," he said, and Joel's head snapped back around with a glare.

"Excuse me?"

That was when Joel smelled the man's cologne. The same one Sarah bought for him. The same one you told him you were sensitive to. The wheels began turning in his head as he tried to put the pieces together.

"Patrick," you said quietly, trying to calm them both down when you felt other customers giving you curious looks.

"Shut up," he growled at you, still staring at Joel. Joel stiffened, the anger building low in his stomach, but he fought to keep a clear head.

"Hey, take it easy," Joel tried to interject, but Patrick scoffed. As his anger began to rise, Joel could see his neck splotching with red and veins popping out under his reddened skin.

"Don't stand there and act like you haven't been fucking my wife!" Patrick all but shouted, pulling the attention of everyone in the coffee shop now. Joel balked and took a step back.

"You've got it all wrong, we've never-"

"Patrick, I'm not sleeping with him, get a grip!" you snapped, finally standing up from the table.

"The hell you aren't. Why's he sending you messages in the middle of the night on Facebook saying he misses you and he's sorry and he needs to see you?" Patrick asked, turning on you now.

Your jaw dropped and your cheeks flushed pink, your surprised gaze bouncing between the two men and that was when Joel figured it out. Patrick lured him there to cause a fight, and you looked to be completely in the dark.

Joel glanced around nervously at all the onlookers now, murmuring amongst themselves, gossip he was sure would spread to the ends of town before noon.

"Listen, why don't we go outside and calm down. I can explain, it's not what it looks like," Joel said, lowering his voice.

"I'm staying right here," Patrick said, sitting back down in his chair and jutting his chin out with a glare. He seemed hellbent on doing this his way, and Joel was not in the mood.

"You're disturbin' the peace. These people are tryin' to enjoy their mornin' here. Either come outside with me, or we can do this a different way," Joel replied, pulling the hem of his shirt up to flash the gold star on his belt. Patrick laughed, then leaned over to grab his wallet out of his back pocket, showing Joel his own badge.

"Philly PD. 9th precinct. Wanna try that again, sheriff?"

That bit of information stunned Joel, momentarily at a loss for words.

"Hell, honey, at least you got a type," Patrick muttered to you, putting his wallet away. You grimaced and dropped your head between your shoulders, looking defeated.

"Either way, I gotta ask you to leave," Joel said, standing his ground. He could see the flush rising up Patrick's neck again, his fingers curling into a fist on the table before you stepped to stand between the two men.

"C'mon, Patrick. Let's go," you urged, holding your hand out shakily. Patrick slowly turned his head to look up at you. There was no love in his eyes. No affection or care. All Joel could see was raw anger.

"Why don't you come down to the station with me. We can talk this out, hm?" Joel asked him calmly, not feeling comfortable letting you leave with this man. You turned your head to the side, your eyes unable or unwilling to meet his.

"I got it, Joel. I'm sorry," you said softly over your shoulder.

Joel watched Patrick stand up and mock you under his breath before snatching your hand and pulling you roughly to his side, leading you out the front door. He was scrambling to find another reason to keep you from walking out of there, but he was too late. The pair of you were already halfway down the block by the time Joel was able to gather himself and walk out the door.

He stood on the sidewalk with his hands on his hips, watching as Patrick nearly dragged you up the street. You managed to turn your head once to look at him, your eyes wide and filled with worry before you turned the corner, disappearing from sight.

Nikki was talking his ear off, all bubbly and excited as she led Joel into one of the few bars in town. A blind man could see she was trying too hard. She was the one who came up with the idea of drinks, turning down dinner beforehand, and wearing one of the shorter dresses he's seen on a woman in a long time.

He realized about half an hour into the night it must have been a real blow to her self esteem when he turned her down after their first date because she was hanging all over him, pushing her chest against him every chance she could and even encouraged him to do a shot with her. He entertained the idea once but stopped her after that. He wasn't lying when he told you he wasn't much of a drinker, and he certainly wasn't interested in having meaningless, sloppy sex with Nikki, so he tried to slow her down and distract her.

"C'mon, why don't we order you somethin' to eat?" Joel said, flagging down the bartender for a menu, but Nikki shook her head and pouted.

"I'm hungry, but not for food, Joel," she whispered in his ear, then brazenly slid her hand over his thigh to try to cup him over his jeans. His hand shot down and grabbed her wrist.

"What are you doin'?" he asked with a nervous chuckle, and she groaned, pulling her hand back to wrap her arms around his shoulders instead.

"Isn't it obvious?" she replied, leaning forward to nibble on his ear. He made a face and untangled her arms from around him, pulling her back to her own stool.

"Listen, Nikki-"

A roar of laughter and some broken glass from the other side of the crowded bar caught Joel's attention. It was a Sunday night, but it was busy. There was a big football game on above the bar and it seemed to pull in all the men in town that evening. It was no wonder Joel didn't notice Patrick until that point.

He watched him through the throngs of bodies as he stumbled around the pool table with a couple other younger men from town. He looked like he was wasted: his eyes were bloodshot, his pupils blown wide, and his face was bright pink. Nikki followed Joel's gaze and turned back to him, confused.

"Who's that?" she asked, but Joel ignored her and instead waved down the bartender again.

"What's up, Joel?" he asked, wiping his hands with a worn out rag.

"What's goin' on over there, Hank?" Joel asked, nodding in Patrick's direction, watching as he grabbed the ass of a blonde girl heading to the bathroom.

"He's been here for hours," Hank said, leaning across the bar to keep his voice as low as possible. "I started waterin' down his drinks around 5, but he keeps gettin' worse and worse. Told one of his friends there to take him outside, I think he's too far gone and won't take kindly to me askin' him to leave."

Joel nodded and continued to watch. His skin looked red and his hair looked damp with sweat.

"What's wrong?" Nikki purred in his ear, trying to get his attention back on her, but he shook his head.

"Somethin' ain't right," he mumbled.

"I think he's married to that new waitress at the diner," Hank continued. Nikki sat back in her seat and said your name, her eyes beginning to clear. Hank snapped his fingers and pointed at her.

"Yep, that's the one. Was sayin' some real god awful stuff earlier 'bout her to those guys. Now you know I hear my fair share of bawdy talk 'round here, but this was enough to even make me blush."

Joel cursed under his breath and stood up from his stool. Nikki grabbed his arm and frowned.

"Where are you going?"

"Just gonna have a talk with him," Joel said, shrugging her hand off as he pushed his way through the crowd. As Joel approached the pool table, Patrick's drunken gaze fell on him and he smirked.

"Well, look who it is boys," Patrick said, his voice too loud as he stumbled to lean against the wall. "If it ain't the sheriff of this here wild west." Patrick laughed at his own joke, but the other three men he was with quieted down when they saw Joel.

"I think you oughta head home. Seems like you've had enough this evenin'," Joel said, his voice steady.

"I don't think I like you telling me what to do," Patrick said, his smile slipping as he pushed off the wall and took a few steps forward. One of the younger men that was playing pool with Patrick set his cue down on the table and spoke up.

"Hey man, let's just head out - "

"Shut the fuck up, I'll handle this asshole," Patrick turned and yelled, causing the whole bar to go quiet. Joel took a deep breath and reached behind him for his handcuffs.

"I don't fucking think so," Patrick said, his eyes locked on Joel's hand, but Joel just shook his head.

"You ain't givin' me much of a choice," he replied, but before he could blink, Patrick reared back and swung, his meaty fist coming in direct contact with Joel's chest, momentarily knocking the air out of his lungs. Luckily, Patrick was too drunk and missed Joel's face. But Joel was still relatively sober, and therefore much quicker. He lunged forward and clocked Patrick right in the nose, making him stumble backwards clutching his face with a pained howl.

People scattered out of the way, some men calling out to Patrick, telling him to stop, but most were just encouraging the fight with drunken excitement.

Once Patrick got his bearings, he ran forward at full speed, aiming to knock Joel down to the ground but he dodged him with ease and instead sent him flying head first into an empty table. He rolled over with a groan, blood trickling from his nose, a bright purple bruise already forming under his eye.

Joel leaned over him with a grin.

"You done?"

Patrick just groaned again, his hands coming up to rub his head. Joel took the opportunity to snatch his wrist and twist him around on the floor. Pressing his knee into Patrick's back, he pulled his other arm around and handcuffed him before pulling out his cell and dialing the number for the station.

Once Joel loaded Patrick into the back of Bobby's cruiser, telling his deputy to book him and he would deal with it in the morning, the rest of the bar went back to watching the football game, the excitement now over and done with. Joel scanned around and found Nikki seated exactly where he left her, but she looked less than pleased. He sighed and pushed his way through the crowd, back to his date.

"Hey, sorry 'bout -"

"I think I'm ready to leave, Joel," she said curtly, standing up and snatching her purse from the bar.

"Alright," he said. He led her outside and was heading to his truck when she stopped in front of a waiting car. He turned to look at her, confused.

"I asked a friend to come get me," she explained, and Joel slowly nodded.

"Hey, I'm sorry 'bout tonight, but sometimes the job just gets in the way."

"Was it the job, Joel? Or was it her?" she asked, narrowing her eyes at him. He paused, unsure what to say as he averted his gaze. She looked down at her feet and took a breath before bringing her eyes back up to him.

"This isn't going to work out, is it?" she asked softly. Joel forced himself to look at her again and after a moment, shook his head. He could see the tears welling up in her eyes and he immediately felt guilty. He took a step forward but she sniffled and stepped further away.

"I don't know why I couldn't see it. The whole fucking town sees it. Even after what happened at the coffee shop this morning... I just hoped..." she trailed off and wiped a stray tear from her eye.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, and he truly meant it. He didn't want to hurt her and he felt like shit that it had to come down to this.

"It's fine. I'll get over it," she said, trying to sound strong before turning to her friend's car and sliding into the front seat. He almost reached out, almost asked her to stay, but he stopped because it would have been cruel and selfish. He was only looking to assuage his own guilt. Instead, he watched the car back up and leave the parking lot, a pit growing in his stomach now that he was alone.

He knew it was the right thing to do, that he had to be honest with Nikki. At least he didn't lead her on, and he hoped he didn't hurt her feelings too badly, but he still felt like an asshole.

Then his thoughts drifted to you. What happened today after the coffee shop? Even though the guy was an asshole, it didn't change the fact you were married and he couldn't have you. What was he supposed to do? Pine away for you his whole life? Would he really ever be content with just being your friend?

And what the hell was he going to do with Patrick? He could charge him with assaulting an officer, that should keep him in jail for a few days until he posts bail, but would he ever see any charges actually stick? Or would he make a few phone calls and have them disappear?

He didn't anticipate this ever being a problem. He's never had to deal with another lawman on the receiving side of his job.

He was entering uncharted territory.

Taglist: @harriedandharassed@merz-8@sarap-77@nandan11@anoverwhelmingdin@fandomscollide@survivingandenduring@honeyedmiller@pedropascalsbbg@southernbe@pedrosfanny@gobaaby-blog-blog @eloquentdreamer @yomiyasxx @mrsparknuts@missladym1981@spacedoutdaydreamer @cosmic006533-blog @prettyinpunk85@maried01 @sunnyskyapplepie @sawymredfox@gobaaby-blog-blog@stevie75@mxtokko@sleepylunarwolf@lizzie-cakes@laurrrra@annieispunk@here4thedilfs @navystandardheatingoilcap @slugz-writes-shit@devilbat@ashleyfilm

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel the last of us #joel miller smut #joel miller fluff #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller angst #joel miller series #joel miller x reader #sheriff!joel #STR fic #the last of us hbo #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedro pascal

[mechaknight-98]

Full Circle (NSFW) Ft MiChaeng

Authors note: inspired by the picture…you know the one. @smutoperator your turn

Two weeks before your relationship anniversary and Chaeyoung's birthday you ask her what she wants,

“Hmm I want a threesome with you and Somi,” she says plainly. You blink multiple times. You, Somi, and Chaeyoung have hung out loads of times. Somi was cool that you liked her but this was a massive and intense step for your relationship. He’ll it caused you your last one. You gulped trying to figure out how to respond.

“Huh,” you ask.

“You heard me. I want a threesome. I want my two favorite people to take care of me all day. I want to be pampered and fucked all day and all night,” Chaeyoung said her voice oozing the sexy confidence you fell for. She knew you were going to say yes, despite your reservations because she knew you. You were invested and to you, that transcended your past feelings about them. Knowing this you were momentarily put at ease about it.

“Okay, Tiger. I trust you.” You relent and Chaeyoung’s eyes grow wide with joy.

“You won’t regret this?” Chaeyoung assures you that she knew your sordid history with threesomes. As the day nears your dread increases. flashes of your old relationship begin to haunt you as each day nears. Chaeyoung notices of course and reassures you when she can but also gives you decent space to parse and constructively deal with your feelings, and music. Now you didn’t possess her level of talent but you had become quite practiced and skilled in a few instruments she helped you learn.

“What if she leaves you for Somi? What if Somi seduces you? What if a meteor strikes you down before the appointed time,” your mind raced as you tried to find a solution or an out to this circumstances. Yet whenever you broach the subject you just see Chaeyoung’s eyes go so wide with joy anytime she mentions the “experience”.

The week before is stressful as she left you sexually ravenous and frustrated. A far cry from the sexual satisfaction you mutually enjoyed. She had forbidden you from touching yourself or touching her but she would touch you and make a great show of masturbating in front of you with reckless lewd abandon. This torture lasted seven nights. On the day before her birthday while you were getting ready for work you asked “Hey Chae why all the edging,” Chaeyoung smiled

“I want you feral so that you destroy my pussy. I want you so feral you fuck Somi and my brains out. I want you feral that all you can think about is using us for your pleasure,” Chaeyoung said with a lustful tone. This led to the most diabolical edging sessions she’s ever done to you. Before work, she grabbed your cock and began to stroke you as she said all of the things she wanted done to Somi and her. You stand helpless in her grip, like putty in arms hoping she releases some of the tension, and just like that she stops. She kisses your cheek and says, “See you later Rocky please get home safely,” She did just enough to rile you up but nothing to satisfy you. You grind your teeth. You could and should demolish her right now for what she did but no. It was her birthday and as a good boyfriend obeyed, but damn could she see it in your eyes. Her eyes seemed to egg you on then her mouth followed,

“Oh has it gotten to you,” she says, “you better go or you’ll be late for work,” she said with a sadistic smile.

The night before you had to avoid Tiger. for fear of losing control as her touch was enough to drive you mad at this point. You stayed out on something you don't do trying to take your mind off things. You went to the bar where you met Chaeyoung. You order a straight whiskey hoping the alcohol will ease your nerves. it doesn't. you sit alone until a familiar voice talks to you

"Hey stranger," You turn to see a smiling Somi. You wave,

"What brings you out Mr Workholic?" Somi playfully teases

"Oh you know just wanted a drink ya know," you lie. Somi sees right through it and replies

"Chae told me she's been subjecting you to torture in preparation for her birthday bash of us three," Somi smiles. You nod

"I just need a break. for a couple of hours at least. She's got me on edge. I almost called in just so I could fuck that smirk off her face," You reveal

"Yeah, Chae told me that you had reached your limit, but if it's any consolation she has also told me that she has also reached her limit not being able to fuck her "favorite cock and balls" like you did something to her. I have never seen her so down bad for a guy before," Somi teases

"I'm glad. She's so smart and talented and I just want to watch her succeed," You elaborate.

"I know now come on. it's time we give the birthday girl everything she has been wanting," Somi says.

you groan get up and head to your place.

you open the door and Somi and you are run over by the overwhelming scent of Arousal and lust in the air. both of you hear moaning and echoing but no sign of Chaeyoung.

"Oh babe Somi texted me she's on her way. Please fuck me before she gets here. I haven't been able to cum all week. I need your cock," Chaeyoung moans. At that point everything Chaeyoung has been doing to you. A light in your brain turns green that hasn't been green since your first night with Chaeyoung. without a word and in a flash you strip and your body moves on its own with a hunger you didn't know you had.

"Wow," Somi says seeing you move like a demon to her. you find her fucking herself with a toy desperately trying to cum but can't.

you spread her already open legs and line up your erect cock with her moist cavern. the two of you lock eyes as images flash through both of your minds about what you would do to the other.

When you plunge in she's tighter than the first time you tasted her.

"Ahhh," Chaeyoung moans. Normally you'd ask if she was okay but you are too far gone at this point. you rear back and slam into her with a violent intensity. Chaeyoung moans turn into screams. Thank God the two of you soundproofed your little love nest because otherwise the two of you would have woken the neighbors.

You thrust in and out of Chae as she is reduced to a blubbering mess.

"Fuck Tiger keep moaning for me. I am going to murder this cat," You groan as you thrust into her. out of the corner of your eye, you see Somi sneak to your girlfriend's side, and before Chaeyoung can moan Somi shoves her sizable bust in Chaeyoung’s haeyoung's face

"Suck on my fat tits Chae. I know you want to," Her friends say lewdly. the scene only serves as fuel for your already considerable fire. You keep thrusting in and out of Chaeyoung and watch as she sucks on her friend's tits. You smile at the lewd scene only one thing is missing. Nearing your release you pull out of Chaeyoung who whimpers pathetically before you cum over the ladies’ bodies. Ropes upon ropes of white semen paint both of them as you watch with perverse pleasure. Chaeyoung and Somi moan in pleasure. They begin to make out and lick your cum off of their bodies. You’re still hard though and you start to stroke your cock.

“Where do you want it, Tiger,” you ask

“Fuck Somi stuff her with that fat cock,” Chaeyoung moans as she breaks from the kiss switching Somi and her position.

“Yes please fuck me with that fat cock,” Somi agrees. Chaeyoung moans as she breaks from the kiss switching Somi and her position.

“Yes please fuck me with that fat cock,” Somi agrees. You watch as Somi spreads her legs while Chaeyoung sucks on her tits. Without a thought, you plunge into Somi who moans. While you fuck Somi you yank Chaeyoung up to you and kiss her. You force your tongue down her throat as she gives in the pleasure.

“You like how I fuck your best friend,” you ask as you pump in and out of Somi. Chaeyoung breathlessly nods as you plunge into her friend

“You want my cock to mark her womb as mine like yours?” You ask and Chaeyoung nods aggressively. You turn to Somi and grab her right tit and begin to knead it.

“What will it be Somi? You also wanna be my slut?” Somi screams yes in response

“Fuck me with that fat cock. make cum,” she screams as her wet cavern sloshes around. Where Chaeyoung is Tight and wet Somi is wet and slippery. Her pussy almost pushes you out with each thrust as you go in and out of her. It’s pleasant though but not as much as Chaeyoung’s tight snatch. Speaking of Chaeyoung you move your hand to her left breast and massage hers with your left hand while massaging Somi’s with your right hand. Somi’s pussy seems to open up before she cums. Squirt comes out forcefully pushing you out of her cavern. Not wanting to stop you pick Chaeyoung up and put her into a full Nelson before plunging into her. Chaeyoung moans as she watches Somi keep cumming, she laughs, before saying,

“I think you broke her babe,” she says as she watches Somi unable to stop herself from cumming. You watch concerned for a moment until Chaeyoung pulls you into another kiss.

“Cum in me babe,” she says when you break it “fill me.” She whimpers. Her soft look sends you hurdling to your orgasm as you finally cum in your girlfriend. Chaeyoung also has her first orgasm of the night as the two of you continue to fuck each other through each other’s orgasms. After calming down the two of you fall next to Somi. Chaeyoung passes out in between the two of you. You’re still hard though and try to fight your urges. The three of you had been fucking for three hours. It was 3 am and you knew Chaeyoung needed a little rest she was such a tiny thing after all but your body demanded one more release. You trace Chaeyoung's back tattoo hoping to calm yourself down but your mind races with more ideas more ways to fuck her and have Somi watch. Unable to control yourself you lift Chaeyoung’s leg and plunge into her. Chaeyoung jolts awake in shock Somi smiles

“I told you Chae that you were playing a dangerous game,” she says as she’s watched Chaeyoung’s mind melt. You marvel at Chaeyoung she moans for you and you thrust faster. It was then that you realized you were fucking her ass. Somi watches before she starts touching herself as Chaeyoung's tight ass constricts around your cock. You tightly grip Chaeyoung’s wrists as you plunge into her tight hole.

“Oh fuck tiger I can’t stop,” you moan. Chaeyoung moans her brain overloaded from pleasure as she tries to talk you down but both of you are past the point of no return as you both cum again. Somi watches in glee, and for the first time that week you feel back to your normal self. You finally relax and go to sleep.

#kpop fanfic #fanfic #male reader #chaeyoung smut #chaeyoung twice #somi smut #twice smut

[wileys-russo]

Leah williamson "how can you fall asleep at a time like this" watching a football match at home

superstitions II l.williamson

you were happily tucked into bed, glasses on and reading light pointed to the final ten chapters of the book you'd spent the last month battling to finish, never seeming to have enough free time to get through more than a few pages before something came up.

but with your girlfriend having dinner at her best friends house you finally had the cherish little pocket of time you needed to finish, incredibly invested in the story thus far and dying to know who killed the main protagonist.

you planned to sit down and read for an hour before you'd make yourself something to eat and then finish off the rest, angling for an early night as you were quite tired from a long week of work and family commitments.

you'd only made your way through a few pages before you heard the front door click from downstairs and you frowned, snapping the book shut and swinging out of bed.

but hearing a familiar laughter ring out through the home your shoulders sagged in slight relief, but the frown never left your features as leah wasn't due home for a few hours yet, and it didn't seem like she was alone.

"baby girl?" you appeared at the top of the landing at leahs call, the blonde stood at the bottom of the stairs with a happy smile, the same adoring twinkle in her gaze anytime she looked upon you.

"i bought dinner babe, come make a plate." she nodded her head toward the kitchen as you made your way downstairs. "hi wally." you greeted the girl sat at the counter with a surprised smile who span around.

giving her a hug you lingered by her side with her arm around your waist, various takeout containers from leahs favourite italian place down the road spread out in front of you.

"why do you look so shocked?" your girlfriend asked with a mouthful of pasta making you roll your eyes, sometimes you could swear she was a sixteen year old boy and not a twenty six year old woman.

"i just wasn't expecting...this." you gestured as lia let go of you to start eating her own plate of food. "well i hope you weren't expecting me to cook love you know thats not in my wheelhouse." leah grinned and again nodded for you to make a plate.

"obviously not. but you told me this morning you were going to lia's for dinner and to watch arsenal play, not coming here with lia and dinner." you retorted as you started to dish yourself up some food.

"no i said wally was coming over for dinner and then we're going to watch arsenal play." the blonde argued with you as you grabbed your plate and sat down on the stool beside lia.

"i'm not arguing with you about this lee, i just had a hot date with a book you've interrupted." you smiled before digging in as your girlfriend pulled a face. "you are not still reading that are you? baby its been like five months!" leah groaned as lia reached over to smack her hand.

"and what was the last book you read leah? picture ones don't count." the swiss defended you causing your girlfriend to scoff and you to grin, bumping your shoulder into hers appreciatively.

"well your little book date will have to wait till later baby girl we have traditions to attend to!" leah warned as you threw your head back with a groan. "you can't be serious? its all superstition love it doesn't actually help anything!" you laughed as both footballers now turned their gazes onto you.

"yes it does." they spoke seriously and in sync making you pull a face and roll your eyes. "no it doesn't." you sighed, knowing regardless this was not an argument you'd be winning anytime soon with it clearly being two against one.

"leah i don't want to!" you whined after the blonde had wrestled a jersey onto you, laying down on the bed stubbornly. "well too bad! now are you walking downstairs or am i carrying you?" the girl questioned, hands on her hips as she stared down at you from the end of the bed.

"why can't you and lia just do everything you normally do but without me?" you sighed as your girlfriend rolled her eyes. "because thats not how we did it last time and last time we won 5-0. you weren't here the time before that and we lost 4-2." leah rationalized, gesturing her hands around wildly.

"can i at least read my book while you watch?" you tried to bargain as the defender shook her head. "no! you didn't do that last time, isn't happening this time. now up!" leah motioned, clicking her fingers impatiently.

"kick off in two minutes!" you heard lia yell from downstairs as your leah's eyes widened and before you could blink she was manhandling you up and off the bed, pulling you toward the door as you groaned but didn't dig your heels in.

"okay. you were there with the red pillow and the scarf, i was here with the blue pillow and babe you were here." you were once again manhandled to lay down between leahs legs, a beanie forcefully tugged over your head, your hand smacked away as you tried to pull it off.

"oh! i think your hood was up too." lia remembered as leah quickly pulled her hood up and over her head, the whistle blowing for kick off. "the two of you are ridiculous, you know that right?" you sighed but wiggled around a little to find a comfortable position.

"perfect. you were in a grumpy mood last game too, thank you for your cooperation stroppy!" leah teased peppering several kisses across your face as you pushed her away, interlocking your fingers with hers and wrapping her arms tighter around you.

as time passed you grew bored of the game. you loved watching your girlfriend play and would never ever miss an opportunity to be there and cheer her on. but you'd never shared the same passion that the blonde had for watching games at home.

you'd appease her by sitting with her at times when she wanted, though your attention was always elsewhere and you encouraged her to invite the girls over so she had other people to actually watch with.

but the premier league north london derby always commanded an extra special set of rules and regulations, and your strong willed girlfriend was always the first to enforce them.

you sat quietly and patiently throughout the first half, arsenal going up 2-0 before suddenly by half time it was 2-1, and then a few minutes into the second half it was locked 2-2.

you'd long grown used to leahs tendencies to scream at the players on tv as if they could hear her, learning how to block it out and zone off into your own little world.

today was no different though you were much more tired than most nights you laid down with the blonde to watch a match, and with lia there for her to discuss and commentate with it was easy for you to drift off.

"hey! there's no sleeping during the derby." leah laughed, pinching your cheeks as she noticed your eyes closed, lia smiling in amusement as you exhaled deeply.

"i'm here, i'm wearing your stupid vintage shirt and beanie, im sitting in my designated position. why can't i take a nap?" you huffed in annoyance. "how can you fall asleep at a time like this baby? its deadlocked 2-2 this is fantastic football babe!" leah protested as you shrugged, unbothered.

"leave her be." lia chuckled as you shot her a grateful smile, eyes closing again as leah started to argue, her best friend only shushing her as eventually her protests died down.

a smile curled into your lips as you felt her body shift beneath you, hands on your hips pulling you upwards so she could hug you a little tighter, warm lips affectionately pressing a soft kiss to your cheek.

"i can't believe she'd rather sleep than watch this, this is the best match of the season so far!"

#woso community #woso #woso x reader #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson #engwnt #woso blurbs #woso imagine #woso fanfics

[moonlinos]

Call my bluff, call you ‘babe’ ♡ Minho

♡ Pairing: Lee Minho × fem!reader

♡ Genre: Childhood friends to lovers, fluff

♡ CW: Implied smut, alcohol consumption. Twenty solid seconds of angst, but it doesn’t even really count. It’s just tooth-rotting fluff.

♡ Word count: 5.5k

♡ Synopsis: Minho has been your best friend since you two could barely form coherent sentences. He was there when your last baby tooth fell, he was there when you failed your high school exams, and he was there as you walked down the aisle.

♡ A/N: This was going to be just word-vomit fluff to make me cry, but I couldn’t control myself and before I knew it there were… so many words.

You were four years old when you met Minho. It was the first day of kindergarten, and you were assigned seats together. The entire day was spent with you chatting to every kid you could reach from your seat while Minho quietly sat painting and doodling by your side. You vaguely remember thinking he was odd and whining to your mom about how your seatmate was boring, and that was why he was the only kid in class you didn’t talk to. She smiled and told you maybe you should make an effort to talk to him. That same day, you racked your little brain for a reason why your seatmate might be so quiet and promptly decided that he was too shy to start a conversation himself. You then asked your mom if the fact that you didn’t talk to him might have made him sad, to which she hesitated, and that was enough to have your bottom lip wobbling.

You remember tears streaming down your cheeks as you frantically sobbed, inconsolable at the fact that your seatmate was sad and that it was partially because of you.

The next day, you asked if Minho would like to use your special glitter pens — you even told him you wouldn’t mind if he used your favorite colors. That was really all that was needed to plant the bud of friendship between you two.

Ever since that day, you two slowly became inseparable.

You attended the same elementary school after begging your parents, writing a very concise list of reasons why you two could not possibly be separated. Reasons such as the fact that Minho still didn’t know how to tie his shoelaces, so it would be dangerous for him to be alone in a new school. Or the fact that you were always losing your gloves, and Minho always carried an extra pair in his backpack just for you, so you would surely catch a cold if you didn’t have him beside you during winter.

All extremely valid reasons.

Minho began walking you home from school when you were both nine years old. He was often left alone due to his parents’ work schedules, which made him become the most street-smart kid in your class. You had to beg your mom for a week, but she ultimately caved in.

Your favorite thing to do on your way home was to stop randomly and doodle on the sidewalk with chalk, with Minho joining you in no time. You even had your favorite little sketching spot — right in front of a nice old lady’s flower shop, where you two would spend far too much time decorating her entrance pavement with flowers, rainbows, and smiley faces. She would later introduce herself to you, Ms. Kim, and would always thank you both with a flower of your choice. You always picked tulips, and Minho always picked daisies.

On one hazy winter day, you and Minho were eager to adorn the flower shop’s entrance with a new set of doodles since the ones you had done just yesterday got covered in snow. As you two did your best to dig through the piled-up snow with your gloved hands, you suddenly felt something hard slide down your throat. Your hands stilled, and you turned to look at Minho with wide eyes.

“What happened?” He asked. “Did you lose your glove in the snow this time?”

You shook your head frantically, careful not to swallow. “Teeth,” you simply said.

Minho looked at you like you were crazy, squinting his eyes as he studied your face. “What?”

You felt tears well up, and he immediately abandoned his mission of shuffling through the snow before pulling you into a big hug.

“Why are you crying? Don’t cry. I hate when you cry, I feel weird when you cry,” He said, but no tears left his worried eyes. Minho never cried, that was something you had learned a while back. 

You, however, cried until Ms. Kim noticed you two from the window, cooing as she approached you two with a gentle smile. You tried your best to explain your predicament. Minho sat with you behind the wooden counter, holding your hand in his, the smell of flowers making everything feel less catastrophic than it did ten minutes earlier.

Ms. Kim explained that you had no reason to cry, as it was normal for kids to swallow their baby teeth. And you remember harshly shaking your head and explaining with a trembling voice that you hadn’t cried because of that. You had cried because that was your last baby tooth, which meant you were officially a grown-up. You didn’t want to be a grown-up. Minho wasn’t a grown-up yet, with his last baby tooth still holding on proudly in his gums. You didn’t want to be a grown-up all alone; it would be terrible and sad.

That afternoon, you two went home together in silence, your respective flowers clutched in your hands. Minho was never good with words. Sadness engulfed him because he couldn’t do enough to make his best friend smile again. What was the point of a best friend if they didn’t make you laugh when you were crying?

Minho walked into school the next day with a proud smile on his face before placing his last baby tooth on your desk. You eyed it curiously, brows furrowed.

“There, I took it off last night,” He simply said. “Now we’re gonna be grown-ups together.”

At eleven years old, your daily after-school video game appointments began.

You had just cut your hair short; a bob you thought looked cute on your favorite singer turned out to be cataclysmically unflattering on you. And, at eleven years old, it was earth-shattering and definitely the end of your life (despite what your mother told you).

You spent every second out in public with your hair hidden by a beanie, hoping it would distract people from your disastrous haircut.

Except it had the opposite effect.

One particular day at school, a boy came up to you simply to inform you that your head looked like a mushroom before running away, laughing with his friends. They were foolish words spoken by a foolish boy, but you were eleven. Once again, earth-shattering and the end of your life.

You avoided everyone the entire day — including Minho, whom you always talked to no matter your mood. You knew you wouldn’t be able to avoid him for much longer, seeing as he walked you home every day, so you simply prayed he wouldn’t notice your puffy eyes or that he at least hadn’t heard any of the other kids making unfunny jokes about your haircut.

After school, Minho sighed in feigned annoyance when you told him you had lost your gloves again before retrieving a pair from his backpack. Like a habit, you asked if he wanted to hang out at your house, although the answer was always unchanging.

“My mom’s baking a cake,” you told him. “We can play video games and then eat it together.”

Minho hummed in agreement, adjusting his backpack before grabbing your hand as you two began your daily walk to your house. It was something you always did, never walking anywhere without your hands clasped together. These past few months, however, this once ordinary gesture had begun making your heart beat faster. You didn’t understand why, and you would rather not think about it because every time you did, the words from your other friends would echo inside your head. Their stories about how they felt their hearts racing when their crush had hugged them or even looked their way, making you question if maybe…

But it couldn’t be. Minho was your best friend. How could he be your crush?

It was another one of those afternoons, your mom busily making you two sandwiches as you and Minho played New Super Mario Bros on your Wii under the blanket fort you always meticulously built. Minho had been acting weird all day — even weirder than you, who had to endure all the asinine jokes and hurtful words from your peers. As you completed the last level for the umpteenth time, saving Princess Peach, Minho all but threw his controller to the side. You turned to shoot him a questioning look, which went ignored as he rummaged through his backpack.

He retrieved a crumpled-up piece of paper, which he promptly gave to you.

You cocked your head, awaiting some sort of explanation, but Minho simply picked up his controller once more and hit play on the game.

Unfolding the paper, words greeted you in Minho’s messy handwriting.

YOUR HAIR LOOKS CUTE. STOP HIDING IT.

Your lips parted slightly, but before you could say anything to him, Minho reached out and snatched your beanie from your head. Your short hair and bangs cascaded onto your face, partially obscuring your view. But you could still make out his side profile, where a faint smile appeared on his lips.

After that, you two were silent for the rest of the day, eventually dozing off under the tent lulled by the sound of your mother’s hand mixer and Mario’s theme song. The sun eventually set outside the window, and you woke up to two plates of your mother’s cake waiting for you on the coffee table.

From that point on, your beanie was left forgotten inside your drawer.

You were fifteen when you realized that perhaps your feelings for Minho weren’t all that platonic after all.

It all started with a letter on Minho’s desk on a rainy Friday. October 25th, Minho’s birthday.

Minho’s quiet nature hadn’t changed one bit since you first sat beside him at four years old. He would rather die than start a conversation, rarely went out to the movies with your friend group and, most importantly, hated being the center of attention. That was why he told no one about his birthday since you two began high school this year. It was the subject of much debate among your little group of friends, with some bribing Minho with his favorite snacks or promising to do his assignments until college just for some sort of clue; a day, month, even the day of the week he was born.

But Minho never budged.

So, seeing a letter on his desk on the day of his birthday was odd, to say the least.

You arrived back to the classroom late after chatting to your friend from another class in the hallway, catching as Minho sat down with a puzzled look on his face and an open letter in his hands.

“What’s up?” You asked, sitting on the desk in front of him.

He looked up, thick glasses crooked from a dodgeball incident earlier that week. “Yumi found out it’s my birthday today,” He informed you, a bit too nonchalantly. “She organized a birthday party at her house tomorrow with our friends.”

You immediately took the letter, reading it and blanching at the words written in the girl’s pretty handwriting. She had found out Minho’s birthday by snooping around Facebook until she found his mother, who had a plethora of pictures of Minho on his previous birthdays. Not only that, the letter ended with a paragraph where she confessed her feelings to him — with all the clichés and dramatics only an adolescent crush could provide.

You still remember your first thoughts upon learning that information: Oh, Yumi. Of course a girl like her would do something like this.

You cringe at your words now, but at fifteen, you deemed no girl worthy of your best friend. Especially ‘girls like Yumi,’ who in your eyes all but threw herself at him. At the time, you thought you were looking out for the boy who was practically your brother. Now, you understand you were simply an insecure fifteen-year-old who allowed ugly, misogynistic thoughts to brew inside your mind out of fear of losing Minho. For your immature brain, every girl interested in Minho was an enemy because they could easily take him away from you.

And Minho had never reciprocated any girl’s feelings, always politely turning down the few confessions he had gotten during middle school. You were ready to berate Yumi, your brows immediately furrowing as your face contorted, but Minho beat you to it, speaking before you could utter a word.

“I know I should be mad, but isn’t it a little… cute?”

You couldn’t help but scoff, the sound escaping your lips like a burst of disbelief. You also couldn’t help how your hands began to tremble as your heart shot up to your throat.

“Cute?” You asked with the strongest voice you could muster. “You think her invading your privacy is cute?”

And Minho simply shrugged, tapping his fingers on his desk. “A little bit. I know you don’t really like her, but she’s part of our friend group,” He said, taking the letter from your shaky hands. “Plus, she’s always been nice to me, and she is cute.”

That was all you could physically bear to hear, excusing yourself from the conversation with the lie that your friend had called you from the classroom window before sprinting out into the hallway. As you continued walking, your palms grew clammy and your heart weighed heavily in your chest.

You felt tears well up in your eyes once you reached the stairs. Sitting on the steps, you cried into the cardigan of your ugly school uniform. You didn’t care that you would be scolded for skipping class; all you cared about was that your best friend was going to be taken from you.

After school, as you and Minho were about to exit the school gates — your hands tightly clasped together as they always were — Yumi appeared carrying a cake, the rest of your friends behind her as they all sang happy birthday. 

Minho blew out the candles and made a wish. Everyone cheered as his best friend, Chan, shoved his face into the cake. Minho yelled at him, grumbling with glasses covered in white frosting, but ultimately laughing along. Yumi was quick to clean his face with a napkin, earning her a smile from Minho before he released your hand to gently squeeze her rosy cheeks.

You remained quiet, forcing out a smile and looking up at the sky every now and then so your tears wouldn’t fall.

All because Minho had let go of your hand.

Minho’s fifteenth birthday — that was the day you learned you could fool everyone else, but never yourself.

Your seventeenth summer was a drag.

Minho had just been broken up with a couple of months before, Yumi crying as she explained her parents wanted her to focus on her studies, and having a boyfriend was simply a distraction she couldn’t afford if she wanted to be a doctor someday. An unwilling participant in the entire situation, you sat awkwardly at the bus stop as she spoke.

You were ready to witness Minho cry for the first time in your life, maybe yell about how unfair her parents were being, but he simply pressed a kiss to her forehead just as your bus arrived.

Not much had changed when he began dating Yumi, with you learning that suppressing how you truly felt was worryingly easy. You still hung out with them, battling through their cuddles and kisses like a soldier on the front lines of a war. Never unscathed, but always strong. Nobody needed to know about how you cried into your mother’s arms almost every night before falling asleep.

The only change had been you and Minho’s daily gaming appointments. You two had since outgrown your video game phase, both now interested in diverging things that made it impossible for you to enjoy them together. You discovered your love for flowers went beyond doodling on the sidewalk in front of a flower shop, but Minho complained that growing flowers was too time-consuming, and he loved dancing, which you were far too uncoordinated and lazy to even try doing.

And so, you two settled for simply hanging out together at your house. Your room had easy access to the roof, which you two took full advantage of, setting up a permanent blanket fort where you would snuggle up with pillows and talk for hours after school.

That summer was no different, with Minho stretched out across the old mattress, watching the light pink sky slowly fade away as night set in while you two busied yourselves talking.

That was the day you finally gathered the courage to ask Minho about his breakup, desperate to understand why he had appeared so unfazed. After the one-year milestone of their relationship in February, you had begun to make peace with the fact that she would probably be around for a while.

Minho shrugged at your question, hands resting on his stomach while he gnawed on his bottom lip. He explained he was sure that he liked her, but it turned out he valued her as a friend much more than as a girlfriend.

You couldn’t help but scoff at the answer. You knew Minho better than you knew yourself at times, which was why you knew he was lying through his teeth.

“Why did you stay so long with her, then?” You questioned, the resentful lilt in your voice a bit too obvious. You cleared your throat before adding, “I mean, you surely didn’t act as just friends.”

“I guess I felt lonely before,” He explained. “I was selfish for staying with her, but I enjoyed having someone. Was especially nice after…” Minho trailed off, dismissively shaking his head, and you remember being close to throwing him off that roof as he kept being so damn enigmatic.

“After what?” You prodded, “Minho, I’m your best friend. What’s the point of us talking if you’re not gonna tell me the truth?”

He turned his head to look up at you, the darkening sky making his eyes gleam as if they held an entire galaxy of stars. You felt that familiar nervousness return.

“It was nice to not be so alone after so many years of pining after someone.”

You cocked your head to the side, and Minho had the gall to chuckle at your puzzled expression. You shook your head, mumbling to yourself that your conversation was pointless if he wouldn’t tell you the whole truth.

Lying next to him on the mattress with a sigh, you could feel the weight of Minho’s gaze on you. You couldn’t bring yourself to move.

You remember the moon was already high in the sky by the time one of you finally moved — Minho, who slowly inched his hand closer to yours before clasping it tightly in his. Despite your racing heart, you thought nothing of it. He was now single, so it wouldn’t be ludicrous to assume a habit you two had cultivated for many years would naturally return.

However, after some beats from your erratically racing heart, Minho’s fingers intertwined with yours. You had never done that before, always holding hands in a way that all but screamed platonic.

That night, with his thumb caressing your skin and his hand squeezing yours, Minho finally spoke the truth after so long.

“It’s you,” He said, tone nonchalant but voice audibly shaky. “Think I’ve been pining after you since I was nine and ripped my tooth out ‘cause I thought that’d make you stop being sad.”

You remember gasping quietly and his hand tightening around yours as the clock ticked and your silence remained. You remember finally mustering up the courage to turn to look at him and being met by an expression you had rarely seen on Minho’s face in the thirteen years you had known him — he was scared, wide eyes dancing around your face as if he looked for an answer in your features, his chapped lips parted slightly as if he was ready to backtrack the moment he saw any hint of doubt in your eyes.

You remember smiling at him and how his expression shifted into pure confusion. All it took was for him to finally have the nerve to hold your hand in the way he’d always wanted to, and for you to use his courage as a catalyst for your own. You remember how you closed the distance between you two and pressed your lips to his. You remember it feeling weird because you were kissing Minho, your best friend.

But you also remember it feeling right because you were kissing Minho, your best friend.

Your transition from being best friends to being in a relationship was easier than you had ever thought it would be — it was also slower than you could have ever imagined.

Minho never asked you out or confessed his feelings beyond what was said on the roof, and neither did you. It was a shared knowledge between you, a silent agreement that didn’t need words — at least for now. The little gestures and subtle changes left no doubt in your minds that you two were, in fact, no longer just friends — like how you began to always intertwine your fingers while holding hands, or how Minho would pull you onto his lap when you hung out with your friends, or how you would rest your head on his shoulder as he played with your hair during lunch break.

Your friends certainly had questions, the confusion written all over their faces easy to read like a book, but you both knew they also understood your relationship without you needing to make a big deal out of it.

You picked him up from dance class every weekend, sometimes arriving earlier just to catch a glimpse of him through the glass door, as Minho insisted he was too embarrassed to dance in front of you.

One day, thoroughly unprompted, he reached into his backpack as you two exited his dance academy and pulled out a yellow tulip. You had furrowed your brows at the sudden gesture, and Minho nonchalantly told you that planting your favorite flower was surprisingly easy. Since becoming teenagers, you had stopped going to Ms. Kim’s flower shop, and you had long forgotten about how you two used to have your own respective flowers back in the day.

It seemed Minho hadn’t forgotten.

That was one thing you had come to know about him only after you began dating. Although he seemed cold and distant on the outside — rarely communicating his feelings through words — Minho secretly kept a mental note of every little detail about the people he cared about, and he unfailingly found a way to communicate his feelings through actions. Such as promptly handing you a brand-new flower he had picked before you even had the chance to mourn your tulip as it began to wilt.

You, on the other hand, had always been the type of person to communicate through words; spoken, written, or read, which is how you began saving your best daisies from the small garden you created in your backyard and practicing your flower arrangement skills exclusively by making pretty bouquets you could gift to Minho (always with little notes hidden among the flowers).

Your once explicitly platonic roof dates also left no room for doubt, as making out under your usual tent became a hard-to-break habit. In fact, that was how your family found out about your relationship. You were eighteen, with graduation just around the corner, when your mother caught Minho kissing you as tears welled up in your eyes at the thought of having to be apart from him during college (although you both knew that would never be the case, as you always moved mountains simply to stay together).

Everything was slow-paced, and neither of you had any desire to rush anything. Once, Minho told you he had waited eight years to finally kiss you, and somehow, that anticipation was what had made it all the more special.

And so, your first proper date only happened six months after your first kiss, and your first fight only happened a year and a half into your relationship. Not to mention your first I love you, which had been a slip-up that happened only in your first year of college after a drunken night with Chan and Minho. Your head on his lap, your tulip nestled among his daisies in a pretty vase on the coffee table as Chan hummed along to some song that came from his phone. You felt as if your entire being was filled with pure gratitude at that moment, and the liquid courage that flowed through your veins only helped you mutter out how much you loved Minho.

He looked down at you, hands cupping your cheeks with a silly smile adorning his face, and simply answered, “Well, I love you more.”

Your carefree attitude toward your relationship was almost a contrast to the one you had with your friendship. You and Minho had met so young that you could never truly pinpoint when you had become such close friends. You always wondered if that was what led you two to be so easygoing with what most people rush into. Things happened when they were supposed to happen.

You remember one of Minho’s new friends, Changbin, asking something about your sex life at some party during freshman year, and you two nonchalantly answering that you didn’t really have one. Your friends’ shock was understandable, but you and Minho only laughed.

Things happened when they were supposed to happen.

It was Minho’s 21st birthday, when your flowers were no longer in bloom, but your love remained blossoming like it was mid-spring. He had, as always, vetoed any and every plan of a celebration suggested by your friends. He opted to stay in with you, cuddling under a blanket fort like you had been doing for so many years. Chan graciously offered to sleep at a friend’s dorm, leaving your small shared apartment just for you and Minho.

He hadn’t planned for anything to happen, and neither had you. You were simply lying together, watching the flickering of the candles you had set up around the coffee table, recounting the innumerable memories you shared when you suddenly felt the earnest, all-consuming need to have Minho as close as possible.

It was clumsy, both of you inexperienced and nervous. Your teeth crashed together and your hands gripped each other tightly, the realization of the intensity of your yearning becoming undeniable. At some point, the entire tent collapsed on top of you, and laughter filled the room for a brief moment before being replaced by your sighs and whispered moans.

It wasn’t perfect, but it was you and Minho.

Graduation day was a blur in your mind.

It had all started with Minho and Chan drunk at eleven a.m., offering you the awful-tasting omelet they had cooked in your cramped kitchen. They then went on to zone out for most of the ceremony after stumbling out of your apartment.

You approached Minho after he was done taking pictures and getting scolded by his family for being drunk on his graduation day, his mother giving you an apologetic look as you whisked him away.

“You’re stressed,” you pointed out.

“Yeah.”

“Me too,” you replied with a sigh, resting against a large tree far enough away from the hustle and bustle of recently graduated students and crying families. “So is Chan. Don’t think I’ve seen him this drunk since Jisung’s birthday party last year.”

Minho chuckled, shifting on his feet and toying with the fabric of his gown. You furrowed your brows; he only ever got fidgety when hiding something. You learned that for the first time when you were thirteen and he had to wait until your birthday to tell you he’d gotten you two tickets to see your favorite band, and again when he had to keep Chan’s then-girlfriend’s plans of asking him to move in together a secret.

“You’re not nervous ‘cause of graduation, are you?”

You remember the way he stilled almost immediately.

“We always tell each other the truth, right?” He asked.

You remember the way your whole world spun as he pulled out a small box from his pocket and how everything seemed to fade into a white mist that surrounded Minho like a spotlight as he proposed to you.

Your wedding was small — both because that was how you had wanted it to be and because of your lack of money for a proper party.

After graduating, Minho became a dance teacher at the academy he attended as a teen, teaching little kids who he said always reminded him of you two. You used the money your parents had saved for you to travel after college to buy the old flower shop that held so many memories from your childhood. Neither of you used your degrees, and neither of you made a lot of money, but you were overflowing with an infatuation for life and a love for each other so great that it made up for any silly inconvenience that dared to come up.

The ceremony was held at a local church — although neither of you was particularly religious, that was the cheapest place available. You opted to walk down the aisle together; hands clasped the way you used to do for many years while walking home from school. Minho held onto a daisy bouquet you made, while you held the single tulip he had picked out for you that day.

“I’m not good with words,” was how Minho began his vows, the glow of the fairy lights and candles adorning the church rendering his attempt at hiding his tears futile. That was the first time you had ever seen him cry in the twenty-one years you’d known him. “But I think that never mattered with you. You know me better than I know myself. Most times, I don’t even have to say a word, and you’ll still understand me. It’s been this way since we were four, and you understood why I was so quiet, and you still chose to be my friend. Thank you for understanding me, and thank you for allowing me to love you. Loving you is what I do best and look how lucky I am; I’ve been able to do it for my whole life.” He then shot you a grin, the back of his hand wiping away your tears. He ended his speech with a line that was so very Minho, thought up with sincerity but spoken primarily to make you smile. “You’ve always felt like home, and I can’t wait to feel that way until we’re both food for the worms to eat.”

You had never cried so much as you did on the day of your wedding — which was remarkable, seeing as you’d been a crier your whole life. You remember the irony of it all; Minho, who had never been good with words, telling you about his love with words that came from his heart and spilled from his lips without any rehearsal, while you were rendered speechless and too emotional to even attempt to form a coherent sentence.

Your wedding vow was a simple, choked-up, “Thank you for being my best friend, Minho.”

Minho carried you home from the church, with your cheeks flushing pink and his smile beaming as your friends made rice cascade around the two of you like snow. It turned out the boy who hated attention didn’t mind the spotlight so long as it meant showing off his love for you.

Your honeymoon was spent in your small house above your flower shop — which you named Daisy’s Tulips — where you cuddled under a blanket fort the entire day, only leaving the comfort of the pillows and fluffy covers well after midnight to adorn the sidewalk in front of your house in a brand new chalk drawing.

“Can you imagine if we never said anything?” Minho suddenly wondered aloud, his chuckle echoing through the quiet street. “We were both pretty good at hiding our feelings for so long.”

And you simply shook your head, painting a daisy with white chalk on the sidewalk. “Minho, I know you. You wouldn’t have let me keep pretending after finding out I liked you too.”

“Who says I would have found out?”

“You said it yourself,” you explained, “I know you better than you know yourself, and that’s reciprocal. You would’ve found out ‘cause I can never hide anything from you.”

And Minho smiled, taking your hand in his just as you were done with your drawing. Your gaze shifted toward him, and you admired the man he had become. From the shy little boy who sat beside you to the quiet teenager with thick glasses to the man he had grown into; you loved every version of Minho you had the privilege to meet throughout your life, and you were certain you would love every new version of him you came to know in the future as well.

“Of course you can’t,” he stated matter-of-factly. “I’m your best friend, aren’t I?” He asked with a grin, and you nodded. He then added, “Thank you for being my best friend.”

♡ taglist: @bloom-ings, @linocz, @farahia, @mirbokk, @jisunglyricist

#stray kids #stray kids fic #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #skz fic #skz smut #lee know fluff #lee know #lee know smut #lee know scenarios #stray kids x you #skz #fanfic #lee know x reader #lee know x you #lee know imagines #lee minho #lee minho x reader #lee minho x you #stray kids scenarios #stray kids smut

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hi hi! Can I request an angsty/fluff piece with Jason? Maybe he hasn't told her that he's Red Hood yet, and they want to tell him that she loves him for the first time, but with his constant disappearances at night they're thinking that he's starting to get tired of them?

This went a little too long when I decided to stop, so I might need to split this into two parts if needs be 🦦

‘Hey honey,’ you greeted Jason with a peck to the cheek, pulling away smiling brightly. ‘Are you all ready for movie night tonight? I’ve already got a couple films set up and ready to go and I promise none of them will make you cry like last time.’

Jason grimaced. Shit, he knew that something was happening tonight but couldn’t remember what and -like a dumbass- had agreed to going out on a patrol with Dick and Damian later on. ‘Oh, I’m so sorry chipmunk I can’t do movie night tonight. Can we do it next week?’ Jason hated how he was the one who made the smile upon your face disappear as quickly as it came, he hated how he was the reason why the excitement left your eyes, only to be replaced by a look of poorly concealed disappointment.

Jason hated how it seemed as of late that his commitment to being a vigilante had been the leading cause of your unhappiness. While he was out clearing Gotham almost every night, you were left in your shared apartment, left to sleep alone in a bed that was designed for two people and ponder how things could’ve gotten to this stage; wondering whether this was a relationship worth being in after all.

You sighed, trying to be understanding but how could you when this was the third time Jason had bailed on you this week. It didn’t seem fair to keep trying at this point when it seems as though you’re the only one who is actively trying to make time for each other. You had planned to tell Jason you loved him tonight but all that was thrown into the bin, all because he apparently forgot all about it. ‘It’s fine Jason, I’m sure whatever you have going on is inherently more important.’ You said, feeling more hurt than anything as you clenched your jaw to stop yourself from saying something you’ll inevitably regret.

‘I’ll make it up to you-‘

‘Would you like to know how many times you claimed that you’ll make it up to me but never have?’ You asked Jason rhetorically and watched his face further become into one of guilt. ‘Three. Times.’ You told him, holding up three fingers. ‘Once is excusable, but three times Jason. I thought you were over making false promises, much like how I’d trick myself into thinking that you would actually like to spend time with me in our own apartment, but it seems like I was wrong as per usual.’ You scoffed.

Jason tried to reach out for your hand to console you, but you immediately took it away before he could and put a good deal of distance between the two of you to show that you were in need of comfort but not from him. ‘Y/n, I’m sorry-‘

‘Don’t bother. Just make sure to have your keys on you before you leave because I wont stay up for you anymore.’ Was all you said before leaving the room to go into your room, where you’d stay until he left for the night doing god knows what. His disappearing act didn’t bother you at first but when it become more frequent and grew more obstructive when you wanted to spend the night with him, a pit in your stomach grew and it had been growing ever since followed by thoughts that doubted Jason’s loyalty to you.

Were you boring him but he didn’t have the heart to tell you? Is that why he’s been disappearing almost every night or so? Just so he could meet up with someone else behind your back and shit talk you? If that was the case then he could stay out for all you cared, you’ve given him your heart but it didn’t seem as though he couldn’t bring himself to even fake in giving a shit.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Meanwhile Jason felt like the biggest dickhead ever. He could tell that you were reaching the end of your rope with him and he wasn’t so sure that he could go back to living by himself if you were to ever leave him, he could try but it wouldn’t be the same when you were the reason his apartment felt like an apartment at all. And yet he has no one else to blame for this but himself.

He was the reason you could’ve have a simple date night at home.

He was the reason for your frequent disappointment.

He was the reason you no longer felt loved by him but that just wasn’t true. Jason loved you so much it physically hurt and scared the poor man of what he was willing to do for you. Jason’s love for you burned him in the most delicious way imaginable, he was left wanting for more, hooked on your love as though it was an easily addictive drug sweeping the streets of Gotham. However even Jason couldn’t ignore the wedge between him and you, a wedge that only seemed to get worse the more Jason bailed on you for his vigilante business.

As he was sulking in the fact that this might be the end of your relationship, Jason got a text from Dick asking where he was and all Jason could think of whilst grabbing his keys and leaving the apartment, was how he was going to make up for every night that you felt as though you were abandoned by him; and if anyone who knew Jason best knew he was anything but a quitter.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Movie night was depressing as shit when you were having it all by yourself as a way to cope with the fact that you might not be enough to keep Jason interested.

You were bundled up in bed, hugging your childhood plushie tightly against your chest as you watched a movie adaptation to one of Jason’s most favoured book out of Jane Austen‘s body of work. Hell most of the movies you’ve picked out were based on Jason’s favourite author but you weren’t enjoying it as you would if he was beside you, muttering the lines alongside the characters under his breath as he held you against his chest as though you were something precious; even going so far at to using the excuse that when a kissing scene happens you should be kissing too for a more immersive experience.

He was such a dork but he was your dork and now it feels as though he didn’t want to be called yours anymore.

You didn’t know what it was that you did for him to get bored of you but it hurt like a motherfucker and the more you thought about it the more your eyes began to well up with unshed tears. ‘What am I doing wrong snuffles?’ You brought your plushie to face you with its beady button eyes. ‘Am I really that much of a bore that he can’t bring himself to just end it? What does he get out of dragging me along? Is this some sick joke to him?’ You asked and you asked but got no response, then again that’s what you get when trying to seek answers from a weighted plushie.

‘Who am I kidding.’ You uttered defeatedly as you put down your plushie, switched off the tv after seeing that there was no point in having it on in the first place, and stared up at the ceiling as you tried to will sleep to hurry up and claim you. ‘Did you know that I was planning on telling him that I loved him?’ You asked aloud for no one in particular, smiling weakly as you wiped your eyes. ‘How stupid was it of me to think that we’d ever last. He’s obviously found someone else who doesn’t bore him as easily as I do…so why should I stay?’ You felt yourself wanting to cry again but you were too tired to give your body what it wants and tried to ignore the lump in your throat by forcing your eyes shut.

*knock, knock, knock*

#jason todd imagine #jason todd fluff #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagines #jason todd fanfic #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd fic #dc x y/n #dc imagine #dc x reader #dc x you #dc comics x reader #dc fic #dc fanfic #dc fanfiction

[asteroshearts]

My Type

Oh no! Nanami's wife is just Itadori's type!

Or the story of how, upon meeting Nanami's wife, Itadori just can't take his eyes off her.

Nanami x Reader

Tags: this story was referenced here, but can be read completely alone, she/her pronouns, discussions of body types, Itadori's a bit of a pervert here (but he doesn't actually see anything!! Nanami, however, ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)), typical anime flashing

Hey Ken: How are you feeling?

You: Like shit My fever got worse after you left

Hey Ken: I'll be home soon. Please take ibuprofen, drink lots of water, and rest as much as you can. I'm finishing up now.

You: I just checked our cabinet We ran out of Bufferin UGHHHH I feel terrible I fucking told Daiki from accounting that he should go home if he was coughing but he said it was fine AND COUGHED IN MY FACE And now look at me

Hey Ken: We're out? I'll pick some up on my way home while I grab our other groceries. Please wait for me until then. Take a nap if you can. You're just going to get more exhausted thinking of the idiots in your office.

You: I looked online, delivery is going to take over an hour I'm getting dizzier I don't want to wait I'm going to go to the Matsukiyo near us to get it myself

Hey Ken: What?

Hey Ken: Don't go. I'll pick it up.

Hey Ken: Darling. Read my messages.

Hey Ken: Pick up the phone.

(10) Missed Calls

Several moments ago…

Itadori already thought that today got off to a weird start.

To begin with, it wasn't Ijichi in the driver's seat to pick him up today, but Nanamin. It also wasn't the Jujutsu Tech standard vehicle, but a nice, sleek, and expensive Porsche.

"W-Woah! Nanamin!" Itadori called then. Eyes wide and bright at the polished paint that glistened in the heavy sunlight. "Nice ride!" he said giddily, running his fingers across the aerodynamic doors. Popping his head up toward Nanami's window, he said, "This must've cost you a fortune!" And he thought that Gojo-sensei spent crazily.

"It was a gift," Nanami flatly said. The boy gaped at him like a fish. But who would just give away a car like this? They had to be really close — or maybe he had saved some rich guy and he thanked Nanamin by giving him a brand new car! The boy's eyes shone. Maybe one day he could get a nice gift like — "Get in." The doors unlocked.

"Hiya, Ijichi-san! Must be nice not driving for once, huh?" While marveling at the car's clean interior, he hopped into the back seat, feeling the leather under his hands and the cool blast of the AC hit his sweaty hair after being in the summer sun.

"Good morning, Itadori-kun," the dark-haired man said with a nervous smile. The car rumbled beneath them as Nanami turned the engine back on. "Nanami-san is surely giving me a nice change of pace — "

"Our duties will not change," Nanami stated, turning the wheel. "Ijichi-san is still required to do his job, as well as you, Itadori-kun. Don't get distracted." The pink-haired boy pouted in the backseat. "It just so happens that I have urgent errands to run after this, so time is of the essence."

Turning into an alleyway, Nanami smoothly hit the brakes and put the car into park. "Let's go."

Luckily for him, the curse was a low-level one mostly used for teaching Itadori the ropes, and the two of them managed to exorcise it in record time. For someone who was just thrust into the world of curses several weeks ago, he was doing well. As well as anyone could in his situation.

The boy was still a bumbling newbie, but he had a good head on his shoulders and was a strong opponent for most curses that they dealt with on a daily basis. Lips twitching into a frown, the blond thought that if Gojo didn't poison the youth's mind, surely Yuji would continue having a nice and mature head on his shoulders.

Nanami had to drop Ijichi off at his next assignment, but other than that, all he needed was to drop Itadori off at the college and then he could return to his sick wife. Paperwork still needed to be done, but luckily he could finish that at a later time. Unfortunately, last night you had a major headache and showed signs of an upcoming sickness this morning.

He had just barely convinced you to not do remote work and just take the day off to rest instead. However, as he checked on his messages with you, he found out that you were insisting on double — no, triple mask to go to the pharmacy yourself. All while you had a 37.5-degree fever.

He tried to call you once, thrice, and all of them were left for voicemail.

Cursing inwardly, Nanami leaned his head back on the headrest. Normally, the blond man was the arbiter of restraint and level-headed thinking, but all of that went out the door at the mere thought of his sickly wife dragging herself out in the street to get some medication. Why did you have to be so stubborn?

"My apologies, Itadori-kun." Nanami pushed up his glasses. "I need to take a detour before I drop you off at your dorm. I apologize for the inconvenience."

The boy blinked owlishly. "Oh that's alri — GH!"

Without another word, Nanami quickly turned left, jolting the teen to the side from the momentum, increasing the speed of his vehicle, and raced down the streets.

Within five minutes, Itadori felt like a dog left in the car as his "owner" raced into the nearest grocery store to grab medication, vegetables, and grains for the upcoming, proverbial storm. Even as the cashier tried their hardest to ignore the intense stare of the tall blond man before them, every second that ticked by as they scanned his purchase felt like hours.

As soon as he nearly threw his money on the tray and took all of the grocery bags under his toned arms, Nanami was off again, shifting into drive and ignoring the speed limit all the way back home.

Nanami could've nearly run into his apartment's chain-link garage doors if it had lifted any slower, allowing him access to his own underground parking before he landed in his designated parking spot within three seconds.

Racing out the car, he took all of the grocery bags over one muscular arm and was prepared to run off until he remembered he had a teen in the backseat.

"Itadori-kun," he said hurriedly. "Can you — " The man stopped himself short.

He originally planned to tell the boy to wait for him in the car, but caught sight of the boy's skin gleaming with sweat, reflecting one of the garage's low lights. Summer was brutal right now, with insane humidity that made Itadori's hair damp as if he had just taken a dunk in water. Even though the parking garage was cooler than it was outside, it was still unbearably hot, not to mention cruel, if he had forced the teen to just sit here and deal with it. Itadori had already waited in the hot car when he went out to grab groceries, and although he rolled the windows down, suddenly Nanami remembered all of the articles of puppies and toddlers dying in the back of cars during the summer.

Sighing, the man pushed his glasses up. "Behave yourself. Come with me."

"Ken?" Eyes wide, you held the door open. Keys were lifted up in the air in the man's hands, but you had beat him to the chase and opened the door before he managed to get the key in the keyhole. "Oh! I didn't know that you were bringing a guest." Stepping back quickly, you realized another person was standing behind your husband. "If I had known, I would've worn a surgeon mask!" Alert, you said. "Hold on, I'll go grab one right now — !"

"No need. We'll make this fast." He was about to take a step forward, but then realized that the student hadn't moved an inch ever since you opened the door. "Itadori-kun?"

As still as a statue, pink slowly rose from the boy's neck all the way up to the tips of his ears. He couldn't rip his gaze from you for even a second. Although your hair wasn't done and your face was covered, he could tell just how beautiful you were.

Furthermore, you looked just like the pin-up models he had in his room — you were just his type! Your little chemise barely ended at the middle of your thigh, and although everything important was covered up, it left little to the imagination with how the fabric hugged your waist and hips. As you held the door open for them and leaned forward, the loose triangle top of your nightgown was teasing him with the exposed curves and valleys of your chest.

You were too hot!

"Itadori-kun," Nanami repeated, irritated.

Way too hot for Nanamin!

"Nanamin! You didn't tell me that you were married!" Eyes nearly bugging out of their sockets, Itadori almost thought they had gotten the wrong apartment when you had just opened the door. While his mentor was an attractive man, it was like a mountain and a molehill to the teenager. Not to mention that this strict and serious ex-salaryman was hitched! To a babe no less!

Certainly, you didn't marry for personality!

He couldn't imagine what your daily life was like while Nanamin talked about doing the bare minimum and never smiled.

Raising an eyebrow, Nanami followed Itadori's stare to your state of dress. You weren't even wearing your indoor slippers, and you were absolutely breathtaking even if you had a dark clay mask over your face. He wasn't an idiot, and he could feel his blood vessels pumping harshly. Trying to remind himself with mantras of how Itadori was just a stupid, hormonal teenager, and you could dress how you wanted, and that he especially couldn't beat up Itadori. Pinching his nose bridge, the man couldn't even look at the boy. "My personal life and my work life are completely separate. I wouldn't anno — !"

"But you don't even wear a wedding ring!" Itadori insisted.

"Why would I wear my rings when my daily job involves fighting and getting messy?" Nanami rhetorically asked, stepping through your door with all the groceries in one go. "Wedding and engagement rings are investments, and I'd be damned if I lose my rings and be forced to inflate the wedding ring industry any more than I already have."

Grinning, you beamed at Itadori. Only you really know how seriously Nanami took the "three month's salary on rings" tradition, especially on his sorcerer's salary. "Now you know, Itadori-kun! If you catch him committing adultery while he's out without his ring, you'll shank him for me, right?" Placing both of your hands on your husband's waist, you laughed when you playfully tried to shake him. Of course, that didn't do much. Your man continued to stand there like a stone statue, as if you tried to rock a brick wall while he remained wholly unamused.

From your weak roughhousing, all that managed to do was drop your spaghetti strap from your shoulder. With your dress threatening to slip, Nanami sighed and quickly stood in front of you, blocking your body from Itadori's gaze. He carefully and slowly pulled your shoulder strap back up your body before you managed to flash the poor teen. When you looked up, his brown eyes met with yours.

Gently rubbing your bare shoulder with his large hand, he asked, "I thought you said you were going to Matsukiyo?"

"I was," you rasped out, voice raw from all the coughing you did. "But then I took one step outside and it was too damn hot." Laughing weakly, you said, "I slunk back like a vampire the second the humidity hit me."

The man sighed deeply, and his shoulders dropped in relief and exhaustion. While he ran around like a chicken with its head cut off from worry, he was glad that you ended up not going out after all.

"Why didn't you pick up my calls?" he said deeply, leaning in close enough for you to feel his breath on your ear.

"I was making okayu with kombu," you explained. "Sorry," you said genuinely, "that's all I managed to make for our dinner today."

"I'm upset that you cooked in the first place," Nanami scolded. "You should be resting. I said I'd take care of it. Why were you in the kitchen when the hot fumes could make your fever even worse?" Turning away from his nagging, you pouted.

"I'm hungry though…" you mumbled, far too much like a spoiled child, and Nanami was sure, in some way, that you were spoiled, of his making too. He always prioritized you and let you have your way. "And I already ate the miyeok guk you made."

"You could've ordered delivery," the man countered.

"Nothing interested me there."

Inhaling deeply once more, Nanami tried to calm the upcoming headache he felt. There was no point in arguing with you, not when you were coughing and sick like this. "Stay here. I'm going to whip up a bowl of okayu to have with your medicine," the man ordered before he picked up a blanket you had draped over one of your couches and wrapped you in it like a burrito. When you opened your mouth, your husband only sternly repeated, "Stay."

Playfully rolling your eyes when he left to go to the kitchen, you puffed out your cheeks in mock irritation. Closing the door to your apartment so the AC couldn't escape anymore, you turned to the teen who was standing awkwardly in your home.

"Aw I'm sorry," you said, voice sounding like sandpaper again. "You know, Kento's kinda strict, but I assure you he's a good man," you said gently. "Thank you so much for taking care of him."

"M-Me?" Itadori sputtered. "I'm not the one taking care of him! He takes care of me! Um…" The boy grew demure when he realized he had no way to address you.

"Oh," you realized you didn't introduce yourself. "I apologize! I totally forgot! I know you since Ken talks about you and Ino all the time, but I didn't realize you didn't know me!"

Itadori gasped. "He talks about me?!"

"Of course! All good things!" you assured. "Even though Kento seems like a meanie, he's a genuine person and wouldn't exaggerate, so he wouldn't praise you unless he absolutely meant it." You knew that this was the teen that hosted Sukuna, the King of Curses. It was a heavy burden for someone who wasn't even an adult yet, and your heart grew heavy at the thought of this boy's fate.

"Before I forget…" Quickly, you ran to your bathroom and cleaned off your clay face mask before you returned with your bare face wet and a cloth Pompompurin headband keeping your hair out of the way. "I need to introduce myself."

Now Itadori was sure that you two were married with the way you introduced yourself nearly identically to your husband. With your back straight and shoulders squared, hands flat, and arms straight at your side, you closed your eyes and bowed.

"Pleased to make your acquaintance, Itadori-kun." You acquired your business card out of thin air and held it out for the boy. "My name is Nanami [Name], and I'm a senior project manager at Yurukawa Corp. If you or your friends ever get tired of exorcising curses and want to look into engineering, you can ask me!"

Huh?

It was too silent.

When you rose and looked up, you realized that your husband had suddenly materialized out of nowhere. Standing in between you and Itadori, your husband's stern expression could freeze hell over as he stared down at Itadori with a frown, arm outstretched and his hand held up — right where Itadori's eyes would've seen your cleavage when you bent over to bow.

"Itadori-kun."

"Y-Yes!"

"We are going. Now."

The car was completely silent the entire way to the dorm rooms. Quickly shifting the car into park, Itadori jumped at the sudden stop.

No one said a word. The entire ride felt like the air was heavy enough to drown in.

"Itadori-kun." Nanami's eyes were hidden by the reflection in his glasses.

"…Yes?" the boy squeaked out, pressing his index fingers together.

"Never ogle my wife again."

#nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk nanami #nanami fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #nanami

[seijorhi]

Etched in Red: Vermillion (Part One)

Event Masterlist

Okkotsu Yuuta x female reader

Part Two

w.c 1.4k

tw: yandere themes, kidnapping, implied dub/non-con, non-explicit gore

There’s nothing… wrong with being weak.

It isn’t a moral failing or anything to be ashamed of, it just is. For most people – normal people – that’s okay. They accept it, adjust their lives accordingly and move on. 

The thing is, most people don’t actually need to be strong, not in the physical sense. 

Most people aren’t jujutsu sorcerers.

Yuuta frowns, watching you laugh as Inumaki offers a hand to haul you up to your feet, brushing the dirt and grass of your skirt once you’re upright. Another sparring session that ends the exact same way all of them do; you, flat on your ass, wholly at the mercy of whichever of his friends is standing over you.

Problem is, they’re going easy on you; Maki leaving her left side wide open, Panda practically telegraphing his hits. Lately, he’s noticed it with Yuji and the other second years, too. It’s like an unwritten rule that they never go too hard, never push you too far. Trying to help you without hurting you in the process.

Because the simple, painful truth is, you aren’t strong enough to take it.

And believe it or not, he does get it… sort of. When Gojo dragged him into this he was petrified. Useless. He got thrown in the deep end, first first with Maki and then with Inumaki, and he had to figure it out fast, but… he also had Rika. 

He also had his cursed technique. 

Three years in, with graduation looming, you’re a step above a window. Still a grade four, although unlike with Maki it’s not some political, sexist bullshit keeping you there.

For right now, that’s okay. They’re your friends, none of them think any worse of you for it. They cover you on the missions you’re sent out on, and that’s not gonna change any time soon, but–

“Everything okay, Yuuta?”

He exhales a shuddering breath then straightens and turns your way with a smile. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Are you?” he asks, idly toeing at a rock by his feet. Maybe you won’t notice the flush colouring his cheeks. “Looked like you hit the ground pretty hard back there.” 

You laugh, waving it off like it’s no big deal, and to be fair it isn’t – you go through this multiple times a week, but that doesn’t mean it rankles him any less when you say, “Nothing I can’t handle. Toge was taking it easy on me.”

You don’t know the half of it. 

“C’mon,” you tell him. “Panda says you’re up.”

—

Forty minutes later, breathless, aching and bruised all over, Yuuta shuffles with you and the others back to the dormitories to shower before eating when a familiar head of white hair pops into view.

“Yuuu-taa,” Gojo greets in a sing-song voice, altogether too happy for the group of exhausted, hungry students glaring back at him. “A word?”

Not remotely a request, considering he’s got an arm looped over Yuuta’s shoulders, steering him away from the rest of the group before he can get so much as a word out. 

Leading him into an empty classroom well away from the dormitories, Gojo props himself up against one of the desks, leaving Yuuta to stand awkwardly in front of him, trying his best not to feel like a misbehaving child about to be lectured. 

When he speaks, there’s no trace of levity left to soften the blow. “What happened?” 

Gojo isn’t talking about the training session outside.  

Yuuta swallows, stiffening. “It doesn’t matter, does it? You read the report. As long as she’s with me, Rika and I–”

“So you expect the higher ups to send you along on every mission she’s assigned?”

His cheeks flush again, this time with indignation. “They can’t send her alone! She’s not– she… ” Isn’t strong enough.

At his floundering, Gojo lets out a heavy, over-dramatic sigh, as if the weight of the world rests on his shoulders alone. “Yuuta, you’re a special grade. Do you really think they’ll let you play babysitter just because you have a crush?”

His heart squeezes, a thick lump lodging itself in his throat. He doesn’t deny it, there’s no point. Blindfolded or not, Gojo sees everything.

Not that his Sensei has room to talk about crushes. 

“I don’t care, I’ll go anyway! I’m not letting her get hurt.”

“Special grade or not, you won’t be able to stop it,” Gojo tells him, a strange sort of smile teasing at his lips. “They’ll smell her coming a mile away, that inexperience, overconfidence. Such a weak, tasty little sorcerer. Easy pickings. She’ll draw them in like flies to honey, one after another, until there’s too many to fight all at once – that’s what happened last time, didn’t it? You lost focus.”

Yuuta stills entirely. 

Gojo tugs at the bandages over his eyes, revealing one brilliant, blue iris. “She dies. That’s the only way this goes. You understand that, don’t you?”

—

It kills Yuuta that Gojo turns out to be right.

The body lying on the cold, metal table can barely be called that. Half a torso and a leg. That’s all he got back after getting rid of the curse. 

“Okkotsu,” Ieiri’s calm voice breaks through his reverie, and he glances up to find her tired eyes boring into him from across the room. If he didn’t know better, he’d almost think she looked concerned.

“‘m fine,” he mumbles, letting his head tilt back to fall against the cool tiles. “I’m not the one who died.”

Ieiri opens her mouth, only to close it a moment later. “Of course.”

And so it goes. Inumaki, Panda and Maki hover, quiet and subdued. No one knows what to say, but none of them are surprised, he can tell that much through the thick, strained silence. 

Death is pretty much a constant for them. Jujutsu sorcerers don’t tend to lead long, happy lives, but this isn’t just losing a classmate seven days out from graduation. A pang squeezes at his chest and he doesn’t bother holding back a heavy exhale. 

“I’m tired. I’ll… catch you guys later, I guess.”

Yuuta doesn’t wait for an acknowledgement, turning on his heel and leaving them there outside the gym, staring uselessly after him.

But he doesn’t head back to his room. There’s nothing for him there. 

No, Yuuta walks for a long, long while. Back to civilisation, to the city teeming with people and curses, each step more surefooted, eager than the last.

By the time he reaches the apartment, he’s pounding the pavement, and takes the stairs two at a time. His hand shakes as he slots the key into the first lock and twists, then the second, his heart’s halfway to his throat when he pushes it open, heading straight for the bedroom–

The knot in his chest loosens, a relieved sigh escaping him at the sight of you, spread out in his sheets in nothing but your underwear, fast asleep. Safe, where he left you.

It takes him no time at all to toe out of his sneakers, shed his jacket and climb up onto the bed next to you, mindful not to jostle you too much, not to disturb the thick metal links coiled loosely at the bottom of the mattress. Your eyes are still puffy, cheeks wet with the sheen of tears when his fingertips glide over them, intent on smoothing your hair back from your face. 

Poor thing, you must’ve tired yourself out. 

Yuuta has every intention of letting you sleep for a little while longer yet – he’d meant what he’d said to Maki and the others, there’s a bone tired weariness that’s been clinging to him since he dragged himself back to campus that morning, and it’s only now, here, lying next to you that he feels it start to leach away, like poison syphoned off. 

A small, soft smile tugs at his lips. 

Perfect, beautiful girl. 

Gojo was right. You had to die. There aren’t enough sorcerers to deal with the increased curses plaguing the city. Weak or not, they would’ve kept sending you out, and he wouldn’t always be able to guarantee that he’d be there to protect you.

You had to die so they’d leave you alone. So that he could keep you safe. 

Nestling closer, he thumbs at the curve of your cheekbone again and brushes a kiss against your lips, doing his best to ignore the hot pulse of want that burns through his blood, coiling tightly in his guts. 

There’ll be plenty of time for that later. For now he just wants to lie here with you, safe and tucked away. Together. 

It’s better this way. You’ll see.

#yandere jjk #yandere okkotsu yuuta #yandere okkotsu yuuta x reader #yandere yuuta x reader #yandere yuuta #yandere jjk x reader #tw: dubcon #etched in red