#its crazy how much easier it is to do things when youre not completely miserable lol | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

silenttale22 · 8 months

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HAPPY WITH YOU |KSJ|

BestFriend!Seokjin x Chubby!Reader Genre: Fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, stupid friends to lovers Warnings: Swearing(as usually ig, sorry!), some mean comments 'bout reader's weight, reader's pretty low self-esteem Note: Hi Sweetheart, thank You for being here! I'm back, and surprise, surprise - soon I'm going to start new story, like story not one shot and I'm pretty excited! So, I hope you will enjoy!

It has never been your favorite thing to rush through the hallway, with the students talking at such a loud volume that it overpowers the sound of your headphones. Irritating even more, as you couldn't focus on the next steps. But you were made to do it day after day anyway. Trying to get to whichever class was listed on the university's schedule. But with your luck, it turns out your university decided, during its most chaotic and busy period, to renovate every possible corridor. Making it a real struggle to move from one place to another, and often having to rely on luck.

The actually made paths became confusing as much as even you, with your forever spare time and fairly decent organization, could barely make it to the needed places. With the passing time since it all started, couldn't really count how many times you found yourself lost in your search for a classroom. Often end up in a completely different area of the university's corridors, enduring stares full of puzzlement because what can you do on a particular floor with a stethoscope slung across your neck…

By far the worst was when you by accident got on the athletes' floor. Then the stares were even more baffling, but you yourself at times didn't know whether they were completely ordinary - filled with pure curiosity, some kind of intrusiveness on their part, or fake at all. Because more than once you asked yourself whether you were sometimes making everything up.

That's why, in and of itself, changing and looking for the place you needed wasn't your only problem. Much more troublesome was the unpleasant dryness in your throat and the tightening feeling in your chest, where your heart was pounding like crazy - often echoing in your ears. So more than once you had to ignore the repeated dizziness while walking a straight path. Your brain was able to come up with threats from every little thing at a surprisingly fast pace, making it increasingly difficult for you to believe in the realism of any situation.

On this day, however, you arrive in front of the classroom ahead of scheduled time, trying to stifle your jumbled thoughts and send a brief smile in the direction of your department friends. Your feet lead you to the group on your own, with whom you stick more closely and greet each other as warmly as your mind allows. You were always glad inside that you didn't have to go through all those years alone but rather had that helping hand to get through college.

And it's not that you bitterly regretted your choice of major. Ever since remember you've wanted to become a doctor and help others. But studying medicine can be the worst nightmare. Exhausting you to the point where you fall asleep over your textbooks with tears dried on your cheeks from overexertion, not only from the overwhelming amount of material but also from the stress that builds up in your head. With each revision before a new class which you already had coded in your head as necessary, or learning extra information on your own because you couldn't help yourself, a silent scream of exhaustion ripped through your head.

Willy-nilly, you were an ambitious perfectionist with a poor memory and miserable patience, which didn't make things any easier - in fact, it caused even more problems. You were coping, though, so you could say it really wasn't that bad. In fact, sometimes it was even better than you might have thought. Having to sit and stress over the simple fact that you wouldn't be able to cover all the material in one night often took more time than studying itself, and only got you out of your hair, which you were overly tugging at as you read the next chapter. This made those same nights sleepless when even after going through the book's chapters you were able to stay up wondering if you surely covered everything again.

There were also times when focusing on the subject material came with more trouble than usual. Especially when your head became busy with completely different kinds of thoughts, and instead of studying the structure of a heart, you wondered why yours was crying so much for someone who would never be yours - or at least not in the way you'd like him to be.

Because it all started from nowhere, surprising even you that these feelings were bottling up inside you this tight. No matter how much you try to push them out with words it will pass. They stayed, hunting to this day.

And yes, you could have woken up every morning or just rolled out of bed with the mindset that all you could do, or maybe must do was care for him. And yes, you could have said from time to time that "he is your best friend and you really love him," or that "you are happy to have him in your life, and his smile is one of the reasons for your happiness," but you did it with knowledge, that words must stay at the friendship point. So the pain in your chest while saying those words, since they don't mean the same thing to him at all, became too much to endure.

That's why you, more often when you weren't spending time studying, would rather make up each night's imaginary and never-ending stories with your friend in the lead role without sleeping another night, only to have a hard time facing him the next day. But what could you do about the fact that you were attracted to his person more than you should have been? What could you do about the fact that the sound of his voice popped up in your head more often than you would want it to, especially his faint and addictive laughter.

What could you do about the fact that from childhood, deep in your heart you already felt something more than friendship for him.

Years passed, and keeping these feelings inside as best you could became an unbearable weight. But you weren't willing to lose the closest person you ever had. The person who actually knew everything about you. And somewhere in the deepest part of your soul, you hoped that maybe one day he would also feel the same. But you quickly cross out those thoughts from your head, knowing that it was complete stupidity.

His figure was quick to begin haunting your dreams more often than usual. To this point, you tried even more to avoid him. There were times when you didn't write back messages or missed conversations for a couple of days, explaining later that you were studying or had no time. So you usually delayed all meetings with him as much as you could as well. But you could have guessed that he wasn't stupid at all, and your behavior somehow made him suspicious.

Nevertheless, you still found it hard to look him in the eye.

But something inside you cracked, and it was slowly breaking you apart. Hurting even more than usual. Your thoughts kept coming back to the fact that someday - sooner or later you are going to lose him. Saying what you really feel, or most simply by his irritation with you.

Until then, though, you didn't crave much. You just wanted to be next to him, to love him silently, to support his every decision and his growing career. To be there for him when he needed you.

Just why did it have to turn out so destructive for you in the end?

"Oh, hey Y/N! You knew that the acting major has a class on the same floor at the moment? Jin chat us up, he was asking about you," the voice of one of the girls snapped you out of your instant musing, and your gaze fixed behind the window frame came back to her smiling face.

"Really? He asked about something or just for…" you began, but your sentence was half paused when your name echoed down the corridor, and when you peeked your head out from over the shoulder of your friend standing in front of you. Eyes wide open as a tall boy could be seen running towards you.

No more than a second passed when his long, broad arms embraced your body swinging you in the same way, and your stressed muscles melted in his embrace instantly.

"How is my favorite miss doctor?" Seokjin's voice came into your ear together with a quiet giggle from standing next to you girls.

"I'm fine," you murmured, pulling away from his embrace, causing a wry expression sent in your direction.

You ignored it, having your heart pounding against your ribs, making you even more nervous. More and more you felt the air leaving your lungs, and you found it difficult to catch a proper breath with each passing minute.

"Hey, are you sure everything is okay? You look pale, do you still have a cold or did you spend the night in the books again" Jin's hand quickly went to your forehead to check your temperature, which you had higher just a few days ago by running in the rain when you missed the bus back home "You said you had fully recovered" the boy's worried voice brought back a sense of guilt in you, making you nod quickly in the negative, saying again that everything was fine and there was nothing to worry about.

A look of dissatisfaction quickly comes over Seokjin's face. His facial expression immediately tells you that he is in no way convinced by your answer, and his protective posture appears even closer to your hunched body being ready to grab you as if you were about to lose all strength.

This was also one of the reasons why you were so willing to completely put your heart in Seokjin's hands. You knew that when anyone stole his heart, he would be able to give up literally anything to keep the other person safe. Place a heart in his hands, and he would protect it above everything else, giving up his health and soul so that things would be as they should be.

The truth was that you never really fell in love with his beautiful face - not saying that in the meaning that you don't find him attractive - it's more about the fact that you were charmed by his soul from the very beginning. His pure soul, ready to stand up to make those close to him feel good at all costs.

"Are you finishing at 8 as usual?" you nod quickly in the affirmative on hearing the sound of his voice, causing another beautiful smile to be sent in your direction "I'll drive you home. By the way, we'll eat something, it's been a long time since we talked."

"We talked literally yesterday".

"On the phone. It's not the same" you roll your eyes, but agree with him, and a moment later send short words of goodbye to disappear behind the door of your classroom.

But just as quickly as you stepped over the class doorstep, your head and inner embarrassment began to work at top speed. What was to you after all those studies about all those bones and the construction of the entire skeleton, when your nerves were eating you up from the inside at the very thought of having dinner with him? Apparently, this was nothing new. The shared meal was nothing new. You couldn't count how many times such evenings had taken place, but after the hot dream with the boy in the lead role that spent the sleep of your eyelids tonight didn't seem to make things better at all. Your cheeks burned at every mention of it, let alone having him sitting across from you in your favorite restaurant, sending a cocky smile really out of nowhere, not sure what it was doing to your head.

Usually, you succeeded in acting like a best friend, and called all of your behavior a joke, or completely ignored his silly questions. But whenever Jin's flirty jokes got in the way, or when a boy wanted to show you at all costs what their rehearsals for an upcoming college performance looked like last time - the slight more intimate contact between his skin and yours made your heart want to jump out of your chest. Lately, your only saving hand had become sarcasm or dryness, and yes, it often saved your awkward situation, but still, Seokjin knew you.

Looking at your exceptionally good faking, you could tell that you would be able to do amazing acting if you really wanted to - and got rid of your face before doing so, replacing it with the desired standards. This also became one of the reasons why you were so quick to cross yourself off the list of "perfect girl" candidates for Seokjin. You were no actress, much less a model - your figure was far from that. Your chubby cheeks, pot belly, and bigger tights in no way included you in this list.

It wasn't even a matter of you not liking your body - because that wasn't the case at all, you had gotten used to it and in the long run, it didn't bother you - but after so many years you knew Jin's type and you were definitely not that type.

“Yah, better focus on this freaking skeleton cuz I honestly don't feel like being called on that”a strong nudge was sent by sitting right next to your friend, making you raise your eyes and fix them on the presentation popping up on the blackboard looking at each and every bone in our body from head to toe, struggling to keep your eyes open through the boring voice of the teacher.

"Well my dear ladies and gentlemen, that's it for today. Tomorrow we'll see you for a lecture about more significant bone injuries and their treatment I also hope you'll keep in mind our, starting soon, week-long internship at the hospital to get not only a theoretical but also a practical look at the work of doctors."

"Yes, Professor," the group replied in agreement chorus, and then in an instant everyone got up to their feet, so you wrapped your textbook and empty sheets of paper in your bag with speed, in order to leave the room as quickly as possible after the two-hour lecture.

In the end, you were one of the last to leave anyway, being dragged along by the same person who so recently had been paying attention to you during class.

"I am desperately in need of coffee," to her weepy voice and sudden hovering on your shoulder, you responded only with a quiet huff and let yourself be led to the school cafeteria without any objection.

A few thuds on the automat standing there and in the hands of your friend there was a small cup with a dark liquid, which turned out to be more watered-down crap than a tasty drink, but what can you expect from such automats.

"What kind of idiot makes this coffee? Supposedly the best university in the region, and gives us nothing but shit. How is this going to support such incredibly talented young doctors?" you snorted with laughter at her weepy words, leaving you met with a death glare.

You raised your hands in a defensive gesture, but only another groan left the girl's lips, only to spew out another dose of whining and name-calling at everyone in the surrounding area a short while later. She only fell silent when you found yourselves back outside the hall, as you sat down on the chairs set up somewhere in the corridor, your gaze wandered off its own accord to the actors' group. You were quick to find a smiling Jin with your eyes, and a quiet sigh left your lips.

"Okay, you'd better tell me right away what the hell is going on again between you and a particular ham."

"Huh?" your confused look is sent in her direction but she easily stares back sizing you up.

"You've been acting a little off lately when it comes. At first, I thought maybe you two had a fight, but he seems more than okay," she slurped her coffee, without taking their eyes off you

"Must be your imagination," you muttered, pulling your gaze away from the group standing afar and fixing it on a slightly skinned wall in front of you.

"Oh, yea? Cut the crap bish. Lie to him, not to me. You're losing it, hm?" he sends you a friendly smile, but you only wince letting out an annoyed sigh "I knew it!"

"Stop it" you mutter under your breath, however, she sends you a duck sideways "Seriously give it a go, I'm trying to get him out of my head. It won't take long." A puzzled look gets shoved into your face

"And why is that?" one of your eyebrows wanders up as you finally look at the girl's face

"Huh? What kind of question is that?"

"Why the hell would you want to get him out of your head? Girl, you'd look so cute!" The female almost squealed, clenching her hand on the coffee cup, causing a small amount of liquid to spill on her pants.

With no waiting, you just rolled your eyes and reached for some tissues for her, which she accepted gratefully still cursing her misfortune under her breath.

"Listen y/f/n, I'm no model or actress. And we both know that's who Jin will end up with," girl groaned, rubbing the dark stain on his jeans harder

"But you're his friend. The best one. So…it's almost like being in the front row," she said with a smile, handing you a pack of tissues

"Exactly, almost. In the front row at his wedding, crying into my sleeve that it wasn't me." y/f/n this time clearly didn't like your sarcasm when she slammed into your shoulder violently, and a quiet painful moan escaped your lips. "And what was that for?" you muttered, massaging the hit spot

"For stupidity, cheers."

"Yea, cheers…for facts with a hint of bitterness, I guess," you muttered, breaking off the chat, ignoring all the words pouring out of the words of the student sitting next to you about the main theme - Seokjin when he has the opportunity doesn't take his eyes off you.

And if only she knew how much she was messing with your head at that moment. You were again lost in your thoughts and that miserable what if. At even times, the words spoken gave you hope that maybe your friend really felt something more, but on the other hand, how naive could you be? Your stubbornness and lack of faith quickly deleted the briefly growing thought of a positive ending.

So the next few hours of lectures quite quickly became a horrible torture for you, and along with overzealous thoughts you were haunted by a headache tearing your skull from the inside. And the breaks between classes seemed even worse, as the girl sitting with you didn't even the slightest bit understand that bringing up the same topic over and over again doesn't help your situation. Especially when at times you managed to make eye contact with Jin standing at the other end of the corridor, always sending you his most beautiful smile, always sending mixed signals that you had no idea how to read.

When your hour struck and the last sentence came from the lecturer's mouth, you get up lazily from your chair, barely keeping yourself from letting out a quiet crying moan. Y/f/n as if reading your thoughts, pokes you lightly on the shoulder to send you a smile and a raised thumb up but you only sighed taking your bag and going to the exit, where you almost immediately saw Jin sitting down.

"How long have you been waiting over here after finishing your class?" you ask with a raised eyebrow, seeing the slightly sleepy eyes of the boy, who got up from a chair at the sound of your voice to send you a smile.

"Exactly 2 hours, 45 minutes and 45, 46, 47…" the boy began to repeat, looking at his watch and nodding from side to side naming the seconds

"Jin" interrupted his brief activity, and his gaze met yours again.

His pleasant warm eyes shimmered through the bright lights in the corridor, and your heart clenched painfully in your chest as the realization that getting a grip on yourself around him was becoming more difficult with each passing day.

"Shall we go, doctor? I'm hungry and I've eaten all the fruit mentos," Jin waved the package, already empty, right in front of your eyes snapping you back to reality. "I was joking. I left you the blue ones, I know they're your favorite" he showed you another one, this time a small sack with the blue mentos put aside

"All licked?" you chuckled jokingly

"It's not like we use the same toothbrush at all," you rolled your eyes,

“Not the same” he snored as you took the bag of blue candies from him, and moved arm-in-arm together to the exit.

The sky, now covered in dark blues, was slowly revealing the brightly glowing dots that you always used to stare at for long hours. Sitting on the windowsill of a sheltered room when everyone in the house had gone to bed, and with hot tea in your hand, you would hang your legs out the window to get a better view of the sky, which was not as visible as in the countryside anyway through the city light. That's why you were often happy when you could spend the night at Jin's place, especially in the warm summer when you set up a tent with a transparent roof in the backyard to lie down admiring the constellations or shooting stars. With each one, the two of you squeezed your eyes tightly shut and made up a wish that would someday come true.

Just why now yours seemed so far away, and even impossible to fulfill.

"You need to come over again for a sleepover" Seokjin's sudden voice as you reached the car turned your gaze skyward, as he exactly knew what are you thinking about, "Mom asked when you were coming. She thinks that out of the two of us you are the one with the taste, complete nonsense by the way, and she needs help with some curtains" a quiet snort escaped your lips as you took your place in the passenger seat, immediately fastening your seat belts.

"I doubt I'll be able to make it anytime soon. I'll be in the hospital the next week and on top of that the midterms are getting closer and…"

"Listen, I know that studying has always come first for you…but I have a feeling, lately, that you…hell, I don't know, maybe I'm stupid. Never mind." He said quietly tightening his hands on the steering wheel to soon after start the car and drive out of the college parking lot towards a restaurant of yours.

At first, the road was quiet, making Jin seem even more anxious. The first thing you always did when getting into the car was to plug your phone into the radio to pick a song for the road, and it usually told him what your mood was. Because the music always spoke for you and he had known that for a very long time. However, this time there was a silence that announced troubles.

As you were able to catch a glimpse of the sparkling lights above the restaurant's entrance from afar, just after your friend stopped in the parking lot at a nearby park, a pleasant sense of nostalgia embraced you with warm arms.

Memories of a not-so-distant winter flashed before your eyes. The trees decorated with the warm hue of the lights and the falling of delicate snowflakes created a beautiful scenery, that you couldn't take your eyes off from. Until a snowball hit your head starting a huge battle between the tree trunks. A battle filled with lots of laughter and that childish carefree attitude. After which, with frozen noses and soaked clothes, the two of you rushed into a restaurant to eat warm ramen.

"Shall we go?" Jin's hand rested on your shoulder as you gazed into space, unwilling to walk away from the memories. Memories in which everything seemed easy.

"Yes, yes. Sorry," you replied quickly and turned on your heel moving towards the restaurant. It's just a pity that you didn't notice this sad gaze of a boy who followed you with insecurities growing bigger.

Taking a seat at the table was the easiest thing as the place wasn't so popular. It took minutes to take an order where you didn't even have to say what you wanted in detail. Seokjin knew your order perfectly. He knew everything. Almost everything. But his gaze fixed on your skin today was burning unbearable. And you knew that the very moment you wanted so badly to prolong was slowly coming. The moment when you're going to lose him.

Because, after all, friends don't look at each other for such long moments. Friends don't feel such a strong feeling in the heart when a brief smile full of care is sent. Friends don't bring you these pleasant butterflies that make you so happy.

And you were terrified by the fact that boy might actually start to realize that you don't look at him as a friend anymore at all.

“Listen” he started, making you look at his face after your miserable tries “I was about to talk about something else but first you have to know that, uh…I don't like it at all,” you raised an eyebrow to send him your confused look but he huffed “Your behavior. I don't like it.” your eyes widen, and you could feel the blood draining from your face.

Your gaze paused on his eyes for a long moment, not knowing what you should do. You felt the stress build up in your body, your heart pounded hard against your chest by the excess of sudden emotions that began to fill you from the inside stronger than in the past months.

“Wh-what do you mean?” your voice trembled as the words filled with anxiety came out of your throat after a short while

“I mean your avoiding. Your brushing me off every fucking time I try to reach for you. What's going on? You don't want to be friends? You found someone? I don't understand,” you couldn't run away, you had to face it. Doesn't matter how much you didn't want to.

“No Jin. It's just…stress…”

“Yea, stress…bullshit. Stop with these excuses, damn. I know you too well, okay? I know it's something that hurts you. Not just stress, school, or family. I know it isn't.”

“Listen, I don't know what are you talking about. Nothing is happening, okay?” he huffed, wanting to begin another sentence but the food was set up on the table and you immediately took chopsticks to fill your cheeks with rice.

“Easy there piggy, you will choke or something” sudden voice of waiter made your eyes widen, almost choked on the rice as the waiter said. And with your overwhelmed state, eyes started quickly watering.

“What the fuck you just said?” angry tone of Jin's voice made you swallow the rice down hard, feeling how it hurts your gulle

You just wish to go home and cry in your pillow.

“Sorry, I had no intention of insulting your…um, friend,” waiter said without any tone of regret, looking still with a somewhat painted dislike

"That's my fucking girlfriend and so you better call out your best apology if you still want to work here" your eyes widened again at his words, but you couldn't lift your gaze stuck in the table.

A mixed feeling once again popped up in your chest. Because why would he say something like that? Staying with the word friend was just enough…

"Jin, just let it go," you said quietly, hoping that everything would be over quickly.

This whole situation, this whole meeting.

"Sorry" The waiter nodded and quickly disappeared from sight, and Seokjin let out a low annoyed groan still wanting to stand up and hit him

"Y/N look at me" you glanced at him hesitantly, still trying to fight back the tears coming to your eyes "He's an idiot, and please don't cry. You're beautiful," and that was the moment when the real tears fell down your cheeks. Because you couldn't believe it. Not right now.

"J-just give me a moment" you quickly wiped away the dropping tears and got up from your chair "Gotta go to toilet."

You quickly disappeared from Jin's sight and slammed the restroom door behind you. As you walked over to the mirror to look at your reddened face in the reflection, unwanted tears flowed down your cheeks even more. That awful feeling of shame began to fill you, and honestly, you didn't know if it was this waiter's words that had such an impact on you, or rather the instant hope wrapped around you that Seokjin's words could ever be true.

You stared at your reflection and the only thing you wanted to do now was spit on it, as well as on your hopeless heart, which always had to screw everything up. As if it couldn't most simply find someone else. As if it couldn't pound faster for every other person around, every other person but him.

Quick splash on your face with cold water, glad that you had let go of any makeup in the morning when getting up for lectures, and after waiting a while for your maroon cheeks to turn a slightly stronger pink, you left the washroom to return to a boy sitting impatiently. He tapped out an unfamiliar rhythm on the table. Your plates were still full, his chopsticks still lying wrapped, untouched in the same place.

"Are you feeling better?" were the first words to leave his lips and you initially only nodded affirmatively while taking a larger sip of the cool water, which cooled you slightly from the inside. "I swear, I could just hit him."

“Stop it Jin, let's just forget about it” voice was still shaking but you tried to ignore it and take another sip of water “Just talk about the thing you wanted to,” you brushed off the topic, as you always do when something hurts but what could you do

“But…” you send him a quick look which was understood but he hesitated. Not being sure if can really just start the chat again.

“Please, just talk,” you mumbled, playing with chopsticks nervously, avoiding his gaze as much as you could

“Okay, fine then,” A deep breath was taken, which made you concerned. And as boy said another word “I-I like someone.” it became the words, that made the sound of a breaking heart inside your chest. Knowing now that every one of your stupid suspicions was false. Knowing that everything you used to overthink was now true. And even if you saw it coming, it still hurts

“Oh my, that's awesome Jin!” you send him the best-faked smile you can, feeling like everything inside from a living nightmare turned into a scary emptiness that wants to throw you into a vortex of eternal sorrow. But after all, you had to be happy, happy for him. To support him for as long as he needed.

“Uh, yeah…I mean, at first, I wasn't sure. I used to feel different with her but wasn't sure if this is it. But after some…behaviours, I think my heart understood something. And I guess..that, um, damn it's pretty hard to talk about.” he took a breath, and a quick sip of the water “When it hurts so much, after not seeing her, or seeing her hurting, it means I feel more, right?” he said struggling, but you just kept a smile on your face

“Well Jin, if you think you like someone, if you feel it inside your heart…then it must be true, right?”

“I guess so but, I don't think she likes me back. Not in this way.” you furrowed your eyebrows, wishing to beat the girl's ass without even knowing who is she.

“C'mon, who wouldn't fall for you?” words slipped off your lips faster than you thought and boy left a quiet miserable chuckle.

“Yea, you,” he said quietly as if you didn't mean to hear it. But you did. And it made you look at him with confusion.

“My word doesn't count,” you said, swallowing hard, starting to play with fingers,

“Problem is, it does,” you looked at him with question painted on your face “‘cause it's you,” he added, making your eyes widen and only a small ‘huh’ left your lips. But as a boy didn't say anything else, your thoughts began processing.

“Wait, what?” you almost choked on your own saliva, thinking that you're in some freaking reality show. “Stop joking with topics like that you idiot.”

“I like you Y/N”

“Jin I said stop joking around” you huffed, knowing how much he liked to do such things, yet he never did it…that deep.

“I'm not, really. I thought about it, a lot actually. But firstly I thought it was just momentary because we have been so close since always and all. But…you know, for some time when you used to have this project, heart diseases or something with this stupid guy…”

“Joohyuk?” he stopped, as you quickly said the name making only Seokjin look at you with a “you really had to, huh?” face

“Yeah, whatever fuck him. I…damn, it made me so mad. Like, why do you smile at him like that..huh?” his body was tense, fingers playing with a napkin, squeezing it tight from time to time in the fist

“Jin”

“No, shut up. I-I tried with my flirty jokes, I-I tried to, you know, came closer but you have always been using your fucking sarcasm, and as usual, I do find it funny, every time you rejected me like that made me think what the hell am doing wrong…”

“Nothing…” you mumbled, couldn't look him in the eye, because…all you did was on purpose. On purpose to not fall even more for him.

“Huh?”

“You did nothing wrong you idiot. I've been sarcastic because I didn't want to lose you.” his eyes widened, and you could swear that his face brightened a little bit because of your words

“Huh?!” you rolled your eyes at the disbelieve painted on his face, sight felt on the table

"I-I have feelings for you, and It-it was hard for me as I thought you'd never fall for someone like me. And I wanted to play it cool…so I did that..” started more mumbling than speaking, he still with painted disbelieve knocked on the table to make you look at him

“You did that on purpose? Are you stupid???” his louder voice made some people look in your direction, making you cringe inside

“Yah, better watch your mouth,” you said, kicking his legs under the table which made him let out a stifled squeal

“In what freaking ever possible way could I DO NOT fall for you?”

Your head couldn't process for a long while what was really going on and in what direction the whole conversation was going. You couldn't believe that all the gestures that you thought were just friendly, turned out to be something more. And your heart can do nothing more than dance joyfully inside your chest, yet your head is in the completely opposite corner of the room. It's tossing around hitting the walls, refusing to admit that this is happening. Pretending for so long, managed to get used to the fact that you would never be chosen. And your brain was always the one who spoke up, often not allowing your heart to speak a word.

“Like, in every way? Just look at me” you commented after a while but the boy snored looking at your face, as well as you couldn't believe that you really felt something for him too.

“Oh I do, I do look a lot and I can stop sometimes,” cheeks start to burn slightly, and when a sweet chuckle from Jin comes to your ears you don't know if you want to burst into tears, or happy laugh together with him. “Y/F/N never told you? She caught me too many times just standing and staring at you. Because, damn… you're so beautiful.”

“She did…did tell me about it but you know, kind of hard to believe,” you left a miserable laugh, already putting your hands on the table and it didn't take long for Jin to brush his finger onto yours and then grab your palm in his. “You know Jin, we're friends but like from different words sometimes”

“Doesn't change anything. They always say marry your friend, someone who liked you first and then fell in love because there's no one else who understands you that much. ” his warm skin on your cold hands gave you an instant burst of butterflies, and it didn't matter how much you still wanted to fight your feelings, it was too hard.

Because you knew, every freaking time you will see him, you will fall for him even more. “Y/n” you looked at him, and a soft smile melted your heart. “Would you like to be mine?”

“I…” and there was this hesitation, because what if this will bite the dust? What if those feelings aren't permanent? Of course they don't, it can all change with the snap of the fingers. But it was hard for you to refuse. Hard when he looks at you with these warm eyes, begging for more.

“I know you're scared, of course, I know. But trust me…”

“I do. I always trusted you. The same, I was always yours Jin. Always.” his big smile was sent to you, and a moment later he left a small peck on your hands, promising that he wouldn't let you down.

And you know he won't. But you're still scared that maybe it's you, who's going to let him down.

This is another time when you rush through a corridor full of students, somehow pushing past the protruding shoulders. Knowing deep that you are grossly late for Seokijn's much-awaited performance, for which you had been rehearsing the script with him for months. And all over again because of those unfunny renovations that had you feeling like choking the principals of your school soon.

Your passing exam from the main building was moved to a completely distant corner of the university, not to mention that the professor himself was late due to which everything sucked your time. And now you had somewhere this barely passed exam when you glanced at your watch seeing that the spectacle had already lasted a good half hour.

You rushed into the school's theater auditorium unable to catch your breath, but still ignored the burning sensation in your chest. You moved toward the security guard standing in front of the venue's entrance, trying to calm your breathing and trying miserably to find the badge you got from Jin providing you entrance to a special sector for close ones. Tears almost came to your eyes when you couldn't feel under your fingers the pink lanyard your entrance badge was on.

"I don't fucking believe it," you muttered and tugged the bag off your shoulder to get a better view of its interior. Luckily for you, the entrance ticket got tangled in your sweater, and with a sigh of relief, you pulled it toward the security guard, who with a nod let you inside.

With every effort, you tried to get to your seat without disturbing the people already sitting. Still, it was hardly without unpleasant whispers in your direction, which fortunately your nervousness ignored this time.

You finally found your seat, right next to Seokjin's mom who sent you her happy smile and patted your thigh when you finally sat down and turned your gaze to the stage to see a boy dressed in princely robes, stunningly presenting himself on stage.

Was this really your boyfriend?

Although you couldn't take your eyes off him, you saw that, despite his excellent acting, you saw that there was a shadow of sadness on his face that you suspected was caused by you. A sudden tightening of sadness emerged in your chest, wishing Jin would look in your direction. He could see that you were here supporting him with all your heart. Just like you always did.

"He was very stressed before coming in," you heard Ms. Kim's voice, and an even greater sense of guilt embraced you tightly

"I would have been on time if it weren't for the stupid professor" you burbled, in response to which the woman just patted you on the knee and pointed with her head to look towards the stage

And your gaze met Jin's, and a wide smile appeared on your face. You lifted two thumbs up to see the corners of the boy's mouth lift slightly and that uneasy weight from your chest disappeared. He knew you were here. He knew you were giving him support.

When the performance came to an end and a loud standing ovation filled the entire auditorium, you couldn't stop yourself from hopping from foot to foot to set off on a run to congratulate your boyfriend backstage. After a short while, you headed off together with Jin's mom, but she made it pretty clear that you should be there first so you didn't even wait and shot a quick smile in her direction to run right after in the right direction, waving in before the eyes of the security guard with a ticket, who for your luck, let you go in without a problem.

And you could already see Jin from afar. How could you not when his face was glowing in these warm lights. But when two foreign hands suddenly wrapped around his neck, and he was locked in a tight embrace, your feet stopped hard in place. Sharp pain appears inside chest. Her long dark hair reaching the waist swayed slightly, and her magazine-like figure looked gorgeous in the fitted dress. Slender modeled legs in high heels, in which she had to stand on tiptoe to reach Jin anyway.

Your total opposite. Sweet.

Your stomach did a flip, and a feeling of uncertainty gripped your body even tighter. As you stand there only in black jeans and a white shirt, with Converse on your feet. Again, that strange sensation of suffocating inside along with the difficulty of catching your breath began to burn painfully in your cage.

You are not this pretty…

"Yeah, thank you, Jia. So nice of you." he sends her a smile, with this handsome luck on his face making it hurt even more.

"You know I thought we could maybe…" Your head dropped down like a whupped puppy, and you were about to turn your back and leave but then his voice came to your ears

"Excuse you," he cut in on her words, making you lift your head, to exchange a glance with the actor "…my girl is waiting" he pushed her gently to quickly sprint in your way and put all his weight on you, wrapping arms around your waist and tickle you with his fingers.

Lips found yours as quickly as he came to you, and the temperature of cheeks changed immediately.

“Another time let this pretty head of yours think too much, hm?” his voice made you groan, and hid his face into his chest so he could hug you tighter.

“Can't help it sometimes.” you smiled, brushing his hair with fingers

“Don't I show my love well?” he whined

“Shut up, you're just too handsome” he laughed loudly, making your heart flip from this happy sound.

“Handsome, yes. Agree. But not as much as you, You are way too beautiful.” You snored into his chest at the words and even though it's nothing new, sometimes you just can't get used to it.

“I'm so proud,” you said, looking into his eyes now “You did so so good.”

“Thank you, darling, for a while I thought you won't come…” you bite your cheek from inside, saying a quiet “sorry but this stupid professor” and he understood. He always did

“By the way. Did you pass?” he asked suddenly, making you pop your head up from his chest.

“Got D”

“Aish, sorry” you chuckled only, meeting his surprised look “you don't look sad at all?” his brow snapped up, squishing your cheeks lightly.

“Cuz I'm not, and why you sorry? I passed, right?” You smiled again, it was hard not to when you looked at him

“But you rather A type of student,” he mumbled

“I don't care. You're my today, and forever A” only quiet “oh” answered you, and you couldn't hold back the laugh. “Listen, you were always for me, right? With every exam, every hard time. And I am always here to support you, okay? Always to make you happy,” you added, as he caressed your cheek and left another peck - this time on your cheek

“I know, and I am happy. To have you by my side.”

And you only smiled with this warm feeling inside your heart, promising yourself that you'll do everything to make him happy with you.

#bts x reader #bts fluff #bts angst #bts fanfic #seokjin x reader #kim seokjin #jin x reader #jin fluff #jin angst #seokjin x y/n #kim seokjin x reader #bts fic #bts imagine #jin imagine #seokjin imagine #Seokjin x chubby reader #bts x chubby reader

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ayybtch · 3 years

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Bread

Wanda Maximoff x f!Reader, Baker!AU + Friends to Lovers

Chapter 5 of Made With Love

Word Count: 3,292

Chapter Warnings: Our two favorite idiots are so blind it’s not even funny, lots of yearning, some brief mentions of alcohol consumption towards the end

A/N: Hey guys! Thanks for being patient with me on getting this posted. School and work have been crazy, but I’m almost done for the semester so hopefully it won't be as long for the next update. Shout out to my Grandma for sending me her paprikash recipe so I would actually know what I was talking about for this chapter. We literally never speak but she did me a real solid on this one and I will be adding paprikash into my regular cooking schedule once fall hits. Full disclosure though, I literally Googled “What wine pairs with chicken paprikash” and the wines mentioned are what it gave me. Please let me know what you think! I love reading your guys’s comments, it really makes my day.

Hey, so everyone is going to be out on a mission tomorrow night except for me. Any chance I can cash in on that raincheck? There’s a Bewitched marathon happening.

You smiled at Wanda’s message, quickly typing out your response. Definitely! Would you like to join me for bread day tomorrow?

She responded almost immediately. YES!

You couldn’t help but laugh at her enthusiasm. She had been wanting to make bread ever since the two of you made snickerdoodles. She brought it up almost constantly, mostly as a joke to get back at you for all of the times you teased her about it.

Up to this point, Wanda refused to accept any of your attempts to say thank you for helping you out through the cupcake debacle, saying that this was the sort of thing that friends were for. It only felt right that this should be the next thing to bake as your own special way of saying thank you.

As excited as you were to spend time with her and teach her how to do this, you couldn’t help but feel incredibly nervous at the same time. Why had Wanda decided to share her sexuality with you after all this time?

Okay, scratch that. You understood why she shared it with you when she did. The real question is what to do with the information now that you had it.

Was it just a general knowledge sort of a deal? Or was this her way of trying to say she was interested?

You groaned and put your head in your hands. This is why you hadn’t dated someone since your last relationship ended. You needed big flashing lights that screamed “I want to date you!” before you’d catch on, and even that didn’t work sometimes. If someone tried to be subtle, you were an absolute lost cause. You did your best to recall every interaction you had with Wanda that could even remotely be considered as her flirting or expressing interest.

She did smile at you a lot, even more than she smiled at Sam and Bucky who she clearly adored. She also certainly didn’t shy away from physical contact and had even initiated it several times. She had also remembered your coffee and bagel order from the one random time it came up weeks ago...

Suddenly, everything started to add up. All of those glances that had left your heart racing, all of those little touches...maybe Wanda was interested in you?

Your heart felt ready to burst out of your chest with joy.

Wanda didn’t arrive at the bakery until almost noon. The majority of the bread had been baked already; the only bread left to make was hers.

The two of you said your hello’s and caught up a bit as she stepped in to put on her apron and began washing her hands. Once the conversation slowed, you started your rundown for today’s bake.

“Bread is actually a lot easier than it looks but there are a couple of points we’re going to need to be careful at. I’ll remind you about them as we go about but I figured it would be good to have them all in your head now.

“We’re going to be very conscientious about temperatures this entire bake in a way we haven’t really needed to before. When we’re dealing with the yeast, we need the milk around 110 to 115o so the yeast activates properly. We also want things to be warm during the rise times, which shouldn’t be too much of an issue given the ovens have been on most of the day. Once it’s in the oven, we aren’t going to mess with it at all until the last couple minutes and that’s only if we need it to brown further.”

Wanda nodded along as you spoke. “I don’t know how much of an actual problem this is because you’re here, but I always hear a lot about overworking or underworking the dough. How do I know if it’s been kneaded enough?”

“Ah, good question! If the dough keeps getting really flat and not holding its shape, it’s underworked. If the dough is overworked, it gets kind of hard and not easy to work with. The good news is that we’re kneading by hand since it’s your first time and it’s a lot less likely to happen that way than in a mixer.”

She looked unconvinced but nodded. “Okay, so where do we begin?”

The first fifteen minutes of the bake flew by quickly. The yeast mixture had been prepared and was almost ready for the rest of the ingredients to be mixed in. Wanda was completely in awe at how the mixture looked.

To be fair to her though, the yeast mixture does look very weird if you’re not used to seeing it.

Once the flour, salt, and eggs were mixed in, the true fun began. Everything was mixed just enough to be combined into a rough, sticky ball of dough before being taken out of the mixer and onto the floured counter. Wanda followed along as you sprinkled some flour on your dough and began to knead, doing her best to mirror your motions.

You watched her out of the corner of your eye as you worked the dough, waiting to see what she would do. It was hard to hold back your giggles as you watched her. She was practically just squeezing the dough in different directions. You gave her a few minutes to see if she would work things out, but eventually, you set your dough down and moved closer to her.

“Here, let me help,” you said. Your hands moved so they were on top of hers, you tried guiding her through the motions, only for things to fail miserably.

“Okay, can I try something that might be a little weird? It’s just that I’m not used to kneading at an angle like that so it’s throwing off my muscle memory.”

She nodded and you adjusted yourself so you were now standing behind her. Your arms slid around either side of her waist and your hands rested on top of hers. This time, your hands knew what they were doing and you were able to help guide her through the motion. Even after she got it, you remained standing behind her, your chin resting against her shoulder.

The feelings that washed over you as you stood there with her were hard to describe. There was nothing necessarily comfortable about the position you were in, but your whole body felt more relaxed than it had all day. At the same time though, everything felt electrifying. You hoped she couldn’t feel the way your heart was thumping against your chest.

It wasn’t until you realized Wanda had paused and turned back slightly to face you slightly that you stepped back. An apology rose up in your throat only to die as you noticed the small smile on her face. You shot a smile back at her before moving back to your spot, turning your attention back to the job at hand.

The rest of the bake went smoothly, despite Wanda’s fretting about if the bread was rising enough. It didn’t take long before you had two perfectly round loaves of bread sitting next to each other on the cooling rack. Wanda had not stopped smiling since they came out of the oven. Even though that was her usual response, this time felt different.

For the second time that day, you were left trying to describe impossible feelings. Was it her eyes that felt different? They were lit beautifully, radiating so much joy it was impossible to not feel just as excited. But how was that any different from usual? Her eyes always captivated you and left you breathless. Maybe it was the new shade of pink lipstick she had on. It was perfectly accentuating the shape of her lips, to the point you couldn’t help but wonder what it might be like to feel them pressed against yours.

You may not be able to pinpoint what the look was, all you knew is that you were grateful to be a part of why her smile was so big.

After she finished taking pictures of the loaves, she turned to you. “That was incredible! I had no idea bread could be that simple.”

You nodded along, unable to hold back a smile. “I told you it wasn’t too bad, there are just a couple spots you have to be sure to navigate well. And clearly -” you gestured towards the loaves, “- you did. Maybe I should start worrying about you stealing my job.”

Her laughter filled the kitchen at your teasing.

As her laugher began to die out, her focus turned back on to you. “Okay, so what time were you thinking of coming over? I’m making us dinner and want to try and have it finishing up right around the time you get there.”

You glanced over at the clock and then back to the to-do list written out on the whiteboard above your desk before answering, “I think it’ll probably be close to five if I had to guess. I still have to finish cleaning some stuff here and I promised to go help Charlie work out some menu options for that picnic thing that’s coming up.”

Wanda nodded along, “Are you going to that?”

“I’m working it, so I, unfortunately, don’t have much of a choice.”

She nodded again. “Same here, actually. All of the Avengers are required to be unless there’s some sort of alien invasion again or something…” She trailed off a moment before continuing. “I was planning on making paprikash. Is that okay with you? I don’t know if there’s anything you can’t or don’t like to eat.”

“I’ve actually never had that before so that would be wonderful! I’m pretty easy when it comes to food. The only things I don’t like are mushrooms and zucchini, but I’ll still eat them if I have to.”

Wanda gasped, “You don’t like mushrooms? How do you not like mushrooms?”

You just shrugged, “Okay, I’m actually pretty neutral on mushrooms. I’ll still eat them. I just don’t go out of my way to make them for myself. Zucchini is a firm no, though.”

She gave you a side-eye but relented. “Well, there are no mushrooms or zucchini in this, but just know I’m going to have to keep an eye on you from now on. I don’t know how we’ve made it this far into our friendship without me knowing you’re an anti-mushroom heathen.”

The two of you joked around for a few minutes longer before she left to start preparing for dinner.

Planning the menu with Charlie didn’t take very long, which you were grateful for. He already had a decent idea of what he wanted to do, so the main thing left was to figure out how much food to order to prepare it. The two of you also agreed upon what you needed to make. Most of your responsibilities centered around desserts, specifically pies, though you agreed to make some fresh rolls and soft pretzels as well.

You were thankful for the meeting to end though because it meant the remaining time you had left could be spent getting ready to go see Wanda.

‘Getting ready’ was perhaps a bit dramatic. You were just changing out of your usual work clothes into something a little cuter. It was nothing particularly fancy, but it was an outfit you felt both confident and comfortable in. You had also made sure to pack some toiletries that morning, allowing you to freshen up your deodorant and brush your teeth as well.

As you stepped into the elevator and pressed the button, you couldn’t help but feel a bit jittery. The past few times you’ve made your way to that part of the building you’ve been nervous about the other Avengers not wanting you there. This time though, all of your nerves could be attributed entirely to Wanda. You weren’t sure what to expect of tonight, but you were determined to have a fun night filled with food and good company.

The warm smell of paprika filled the air and made your stomach grumble as soon as you stepped out of the elevator. Once you were inside, you found Wanda in the kitchen, stirring in some additional seasonings.

“This smells incredible,” you said, setting the two loaves of bread down on the counter.

Wanda beamed. “Thanks! This is my great grandmother’s recipe and is one of my favorite things to make.” As she set the spoon down, she walked towards the fridge. “I bought some wine to go along with dinner if you would like some.”

“Yes please, wine sounds amazing right now.”

“I have a chardonnay and a Barolo, which would you prefer?” she asked, turning back towards you.

You shrugged, “Whichever one you want.”

She nodded and pulled out the Barolo. It didn’t take long for the bottle to be opened and to have a glass of wine in your hand.

It wasn’t until you took your first sip that you realized Wanda had also changed. Your breathing hitched as you looked her up and down. Gone were her jeans and old T-shirts, replaced by a pair of cut-off shorts and a stylishly oversized T-shirt. If it weren’t for the fuzzy wool socks on her feet, you’d assume she was camera-ready. Hell, even with the funny socks she was the most beautiful woman you had ever seen.

You realized you were staring and abruptly began looking around the kitchen, trying to find something to do that would take your mind off of how hot Wanda looked. “Is there anything I can help you with?”

Wanda shook her head no. “There’s not really anything to be done, this just needs to simmer for about another five minutes and we’ll be good to go. Why don’t you go have a seat at the table and I’ll be over in just a moment with some bread slices and butter. Once this is ready I’ll bring it in as well.”

You nodded and made your way out of the kitchen and towards the table.

It wasn’t until you were seated that you realized how well the table was set. Both seats had beautiful flatware laid out, with silverware organized neatly to the side. Underneath was a crisp, pure white table cloth. What caught your attention the most though were the two lit candles sitting between your chair and hers. It wasn’t until you noticed the candles that you also noticed the music playing softly in the background.

Everything about the setup screamed ‘fancy first date’.

Before you had much of a chance to dwell on the thought, Wanda arrived with several slices of bread and a small dish of butter. You thanked her before she walked back towards the kitchen. She returned soon after with the pot of paprikash, setting it on the hot pad in the center of the table. She walked around to her seat and soon both of you had your plates filled and began to eat.

It was impossible to hold back a satisfied sigh as you took your first bite. It tasted just as delicious, if not better than it smelled. The chicken was cooked perfectly and all but melted in your mouth. The paprika added a nice rich flavor and added extra depth to the creaminess of the sauce.

“Wanda this is incredible.”

She smiled at you brightly, “If you think it’s good by itself, try dipping the bread with some butter in it.”

You did as she said and this time instead of a satisfied sigh, you let out a satisfied moan. “You are going to have to give me this recipe. This is so good I don’t even know what to say, all I want to do is keep eating.”

Wanda laughed at your enthusiasm. “Tell you what, I’ll teach you how to make it sometime. It’s about time I taught you something in the kitchen.”

Dinner was a blast. The two of you spent more of it laughing and talking than eating. The bottle of Barolo was finished before dinner was done. It didn’t take long before it was replaced by the chardonnay.

Once dinner was over, you fought Wanda to let you help clean up the kitchen. Her argument that guests shouldn’t help was shot down as you pointed out she’s technically a guest in the bakery, yet she always helps clean up after she’s been in there. She grumbled about it but quickly conceded. It didn’t take long for the kitchen to be cleaned up and even less time after that for her to drag you over to the couch.

The first-ever episode of “Bewitched” was halfway finished by the time the two of you had settled into your spots on the couch. Currently, Samantha and Darrin were at his ex-girlfriend's house for a dinner party and the girlfriend was doing everything she could to make Samantha feel inferior. Samantha, of course, wasn’t having it and was willing to fudge her promises of not using magic to level the playing field.

Wanda laughed along perfectly in time with the sitcom track. The more she laughed, the more your attention turned from being on the TV to be on her. This was the most relaxed and happy you had ever seen her. She had a small, almost imperceivable smile that grew as she became more and more emerged into the episode. Each time she laughed, you noticed how her nose would scrunch up in the cutest way and it took everything you had to not lean over and kiss her.

What you wouldn’t give to make her as happy as this show.

It wasn’t until the end credits were about to roll that you forced yourself to look back at the screen, unsure of how she’d respond if she caught you staring.

As the next episode cued up, she reached out and grabbed her glass of wine before turning to face you.“So, what do you think? Could I have been a Samantha in another life?”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Definitely, though I can’t see you being willing to hide your powers just because a man wants you to.”

Wanda nearly choked on the sip of wine she had taken. “You got me there.”

She finished the glass and set it back on the table before letting out a loud yawn. “Sorry, I probably should’ve warned you beforehand that wine makes me a little sleepy.” She paused for a moment before she continued, “It also makes me incredibly cuddly…”

A rush of emotions washed over you as you processed her words. Was she asking to come cuddle with you?

The hopeful look in her eye suggested she was.

Pure, unadulterated joy swept over your body and you had to fight the urge to jump up and down from excitement. You did your best to collect yourself before you replied, hoping that the answer was indeed what you were looking for.

“Is that your way of asking if you can come snuggle?”

She smiled at you sheepishly, which made you laugh. You moved over on the couch, moving around some of the throw pillows so you could lay down.

“Well, what are you waiting for then?”

Wanda didn’t hesitate for a moment and soon was laying on top of you, her head resting on your chest. One of your arms wrapped loosely around her back after she settled in.

A comfortable silence fell over you as you laid there together, watching Bewitched until you fell asleep.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff fan fiction

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stellar-imagines · 3 years

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SCENARIO REQUEST: ❝stupid rumour.❞

[ Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia ] [ Characters: Bakugou Katsuki ]

「 Bakugou who has a crush on you ― the transfer student who has trouble speaking and writing Japanese but can understand the language He helps you on your language skills and develops a crush on you. Then you heard rumours of Bakugou liking Uraraka and you started become distant.」

BAKUGOU KATSUKI

"I thought I told how to do this one so many times and how did you manage to fuck it up?" Bakugou groaned, looking through your midterm paper.

"I'm really trying my best but kanji is just no good for me alright?" you grumbled, snatching the paper from his hands. It was quite embarrassing to be struggling with Japanese literature and other subjects.

Sure you were born and raised in Japan but due to some business issues, your family had to move to [Preferred Country]. And to be honest, you spent most of your life in [Preferred Country] instead of Japan so you weren't really familiar with kanji at all. It wasn't only kanji, its just the Japanese language in general. You didn't have much problems talking but when it comes to reading and writing, it was a problem so when it comes to studying, you were in big trouble. You have been whining about failing your tests and Bakugou — who happened to be your personal tutor. He got tired of your whining and decided to help you in hopes of making you shut up.

You can't really tell why Bakugou decided to help you in the first place. The two of you never got along that well to begin with. The ash blonde was very competitive by nature and when you showed promise during training, he seemed to have made you his target somehow. Bakugou never actually cared about the people in the class but you were different somehow. He was always easy to rile up and you enjoy messing around with him sometimes. It was almost safe to say that you spend most of your time with him.

Since the day you transferred into UA, you struggled with your studies. Kanji now appeared to be an alien language to you and during tests, you struggled to understand the question. Bakugou picks up the scattered paper on your desk one by one, skimming through your mistakes and assessing your performance. You didn’t do that bad and only failed Japanese History and Literature. Your scores were really low and it barely hit the passing mark.

Sometimes you like to think that you and Bakugou had something special but you're just a transfer student. Bakugou and Uraraka probably have a relationship that you could never understand. He respects Uraraka's strength after that one incident during the Sports Festival tournament. You stared at the two who happened to be queueing for lunch, having a conversation that you can't hear from where you were sitting. After a while, you took your eyes off them and sipped your drink.

"Do you think he likes her, [First Name]?"

"I'm sorry what?" you blinked, turning your attention towards Hagakure who sat across you.

"I'm talking about Ochaco-chan and Bakugou-kun!" the invisible girl gushed, her sleeves waving about to show her excitement. You blinked a couple of times, unable to process. Judging from her tone, you assumed that she thought you understood what was going on between the two. However, that wasn't the case, you yourself are clueless.

"But [First Name]-chan and Bakugou-kun are close in their own way too! Something going on between the two of you?" Ashido who was sitting next to you decided to direct the topic towards you instead.

"Nothing is going on between us. In fact, I think at some point he's gonna stop teaching me because of how I always disturb him." you muttered with a chuckle.

"Typical Bakugou. You can still join our studying sessions if you want. My offer still stands." Yaoyorozu smiled gently. You shook your head in response and gave the same answer as you did when the black haired girl proposed the idea to you.

Originally, it was Aizawa who forced Bakugou to tutor you in the first place. You had failed your tests miserably at first and your homeroom teacher seemed to notice that you struggled with communication sometimes. And Aizawa had this crazy idea to assign Bakugou to tutor you. He had hoped that the ash blonde will grow to become more social and cooperative. Honestly, you thought that it was such a bad idea at first. Bakugou was very rough with his words, impatient and is short tempered. You've tried to be nice and dismiss his behavior but at some point you just found him very amusing. You weren't sure if the two of you actually got along well or not.

However, you like to think that you both are actually on good terms. Even though he gets frustrated whenever you struggle to solve a question, he would leave you alone and give you pointers. He also likes to reward you with small treats like your favorite snacks and drinks. Bakugou also pays attention to your behavior a lot. Since the two of you are always studying everyday after school, there will be times where you will be so worn out from training. If that's the case, Bakugou will go easier on you.

"I've heard from someone that Bakugou has feelings for her since first year." Hagakure whispered as she saw Uraraka approach the table. The conversation was cut short when your brown haired friend arrived at the table with her pork katsu don. She looked between everyone, wondering why you all grew silent all of a sudden.

"What were you guys talking about?" she asked, taking a seat next to you. Acting completely natural like a smartass you were, you decided to just continue eating your lunch as if you were never a part of the conversation to begin with.

"We were talking about how there's this rumour of Bakugou having a crush on you since first year." Ashido chirped. Uraraka let out a noise akin to surprise before waving her hands defensively.

"Wh-Wha!? That's not possible!" she said quickly before glancing over at the ash blonde and then towards you.

"Why not?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

"W-Well, that's because....." the girl seemed a bit nervous and you see her glancing at Bakugou a couple of times.

You rested your elbow on the table, letting out a knowing hum. It didn't take long for you to get the hint that Uraraka might actually reciprocate his feelings. A small frown was etched on your face as you looked away from the girl seated next to you. Bakugou would never just suddenly stop to stare at someone, especially knowing that he can be caught staring. It was just as you had suspected earlier. 'To think that I thought there's something special between me and Bakugou.' you thought to yourself, keeping yourself out of the conversation while the girls teased Uraraka for getting so defensive.

The next day, Bakugou was packing his things and thinking ahead. He could already hear you grumbling something to yourself as you cleared your own desk, preparing to head back. There was a homework assigned to everyone and you will — for sure — be begging him to help you with it, even though its due in 2 weeks and you have plenty of time. Just as he was about to call out your name, Kaminari and Kirishima approached his desk.

“Hey Bakugou! Some of us are planning to go watch a movie after school, want to join?" Kirishima asked. Bakugou raised an eyebrow at this, looking slightly annoyed.

"Why would I wanna go with you extras?" the ash blonde grumbled.

"Because it will be fun! Everyone is coming right?" Kaminari turned towards the group of girls that has gathered around your desk.

"Yeah, most of us are!" Ashido chirped happily.

"Come on Bakugou-kun! I think its a great opportunity for you and [First Name]-chan to take a break once in a while. And besides, she's been looking forward to this movie." Uraraka told the ash blonde.

Bakugou glanced over at you, seeing that you were somewhat looking forward to relax today. It was Friday, and probably the best day to take a break from all that studying. The ash blonde had been pushing you a bit too hard and maybe this is his chance. Bakugou reluctantly agreed but not before telling them to not chose some stupid movie. He shook his head, telling himself that he's not doing this just because he thinks that you deserve a break and that he likes you or anything. Just as he finished packing, he looked over towards you, seeing Hagakure approach your table with a skip.

"[First Name], let's go watch a movie! Even Bakugou is joining! Ochaco-chan just invited him." she exclaimed, motioning to the ash blonde who glared back at her. Your excitement died down a bit, glancing between your invisible friend and Bakugou.

"Um, I think I will pass! I think I'm gonna start with that homework we're given, it's gonna take me a while to finish that after all." you said, quickly gathering your items.

Seeing you leave the class quickly made him confused. Uraraka muttered about how weird it was for you to skip out on going out, especially knowing that you were all going to go watch a movie that you have been looking forward to for so long. Bakugou decided that it was not worth his time to think too much into it and leave you be. He's not your babysitter and it doesn't matter to him what you do anyways. All while he was watching movie, he was thinking about how you should've been here watching the movie.

Just when he thought your behavior on that day was only you not being your normal self ― you did something that he had never expected before. It happened on the day after the movies. He had already expected you to be knocking onto his door and begging him to explain to you about all the homeworks that were given and about that Science quiz on Monday. Sure you came to his room with a handful of your notes and textbooks ― like usual. Your hair was slightly messy from hurrying to meet up with him at the same time ― like usual. It was nothing out of the ordinary, something you both were accustomed to. You always came late, looking like you just rolled off the bed and went straight here.

It was the same old routine until he heard those words.

"Sorry Bakugou! I'm going to be studying with Momo-chan today, she's offered to partner up for the Japanese History project." you announced.

"Hah?" was all Bakugou could only respond with. He was confused. Normally, you would be begging him to become your partner because you're so used to him. What has changed in you?

"Also.....she offered to help me with my studies so you don't have to waste your time on me anymore. Thanks, Bakugou. I won't be bothering you starting from today onwards." you bowed and quickly left him behind.

'Whatever, I don't care.' was what Bakugou said to himself.

There was so much that he wanted to tell you. But he made no effort to call out to you as you hurriedly made a run for it to the elevator. He shouldn't be bothered by this so much. After all, he was only teaching you because Aizawa told him to. The ash blonde told himself that over and over but he couldn't help but longingly stare at your back as you ran away from him as if he was the plague. 'There's no turning back on this. I made up my mind to not be a burden anymore!’ you told yourself. From that point on, you made it a goal to not interact with Bakugou at all.

He was already confused to why you decided to have him to stop tutoring you in the first place. Bakugou didn't seem to bothered by it that much but it did make a lot of people ask him about what happened between the two of you. The two of you were normally seen together most of time and to see you both on your own is just weird. You were now spending time with the girls most of the time and instead of Bakugou, you had moved on to asking other people to assist you with homework.

He wasn't going to lie but the thought of you running to others and asking for help didn't sit well with him.

Today after school, you were seen in the common area doing your homework together with Yaoyorozu. Bakugou had went down from his room to get himself a drink. Now that he doesn't have to teach you anymore, he was much more free. He could finish his homework much faster than usual. Bakugou watched as you grinned happily after being praised for getting some work done. On his way to the kitchen, he passed by Kirishima who looked like he was taking a break from his own studying.

"Hey, did you two have an argument or something?" Kirishima asked Bakugou who had opened the fridge to get his drink.

"Hah? What you on about?"

"I'm talking about [First Name]. All of a sudden you stopped partnering with her and tutoring her." the red haired mentioned as he looked over at you.

"Why should I care what she does anyway? She's not my girlfriend!" he said, glancing at you in hopes that you did not hear him at all. Lucky for him, you were too immersed in the conversation that you were having with your partner to even care about what was going on in the kitchen.

"But don't you both like each other or something?"

"Who said that!?"

"It's pretty obvious, bro."

Bakugou really doesn't want to admit it but he really likes you ― a bit too much that its starting to get obvious. He was now starting to get worried that you might catch on to his feelings. He looked at you for a moment, watching as you worked on a few tough questions, eyes narrowed at the book in front of you. It was a habit that he learned after being with you for so long and he never said it out loud but you look very cute like that. After a while, Midoriya and Uraraka joined you and Yaoyorozu. Bakugou's eyes narrowed at Midoriya who was helping you with some of the questions.

That should've been him! ― was what he told himself.

Little did he know, you heard the commotion in the kitchen. Though whatever Kirishima and Bakugou was talking about was unknown to you, you could feel them looking at you. Shaking your head in response, you reminded yourself that you vowed to not get in Bakugou's way anymore. When Midoriya and Uraraka joined your study session, you decided to just focus on your homework now. You can’t lie about the fact that you missed Bakugou’s company. Even though he was always impatient and complaining about how slow you are, he never once left you on your own. Not to mention, he was surprisingly a great teacher.

The Bakusquad ― Bakugou never really liked and approval of that name ― were hanging out in the common area. Bakugou was here against his will, dragged by Kirishima and Kaminari who wanted to play some games together. At the dining table, a few students from Class 1-A were gathered around sharing some treats while the Bakusquad played some games by the couch. Bakugou was seated on one end of the two seater sofa, mindlessly scrolling through his phone and rethinking his life choices.

"There was this rumour that you like Uraraka or something." Kirishima mused while he looked through his phone.

"What?" Kaminari suddenly perked up, drawing his attention away from the video game.

"Hah?" Bakugou raised an eyebrow.

”I’m talking about Bakubro here!” the red head male spoke a bit louder to gain the other boys’ attention.

”Oh now that you mention it, I remember! There was this rumour going on about Bakugou liking Uraraka or something.” Sero piped up, not drawing his eyes away from the game he was playing against Kaminari.

“I thought Bakugou was dating [Last Name] already.” Kaminari pointed out.

”I know right?! I know they both like each other but are afraid to admit it.” Kirishima added in with a triumphant smile.

“No one fucking said that.” Bakugou glared at the boys who began to give him the looks.

”Come on, you were so overprotective of her at that one time when we studied in the library together!” Kirishima started, now his posture upright and eyes filled with determination.

”Oh right! When there were these random people hitting on her, you sure told them off!” Kaminari added to Kirishima’s anecdote.

”But there seems to be some tension between the two of you right now.” the blonde hummed, pausing the game to turn his attention to the conversation.

It took him that conversation to actually realize how much your ignorance has affected him. Not only did you decide not to ask for his help anymore, but you made it your mission to avoid him at all costs. You avoided sitting with him during lunch, not partnering up with him during hero training and clearly turning down invites from your friends whenever you hear that Bakugou will be joining as well. He had confronted you in front of everyone, demanding you to meet up with him.

And of course, it was hard to run away when he asked you right in front of everyone. The only solution Bakugou came up to get you back and clear this up was to confess his undying love to you.

You were really nervous to talk to him and for some reason, you had a feeling that you were going to have your heart broken. Bakugou, by all means, isn't oblivious and notices a lot of things around you. So it was no surprise that he realized that something is up with you and that you are ignoring him. He probably has figured out the reason behind you avoiding him already. And you couldn't help but think your reason was really dumb.

“Look, I have no idea what you’re telling but let me just say this.” you started it first, as you don’t wanna regret not saying anything any sooner.

”But I want to tell you that I don’t want to get in your way anymore. And I approve if you want to date Ochaco-chan." you were fiddling with your fingers. So you were aware of this rumour but never made the move to ask Bakugou himself if this was true and decided to just blindly believe in some stupid rumour that some random extra had spread. Bakugou almost wanted to strangle whoever did this because it gave you stupid ideas.

"You are a fucking idiot for believing in some extra's words instead of asking me. Why the hell did you avoid me instead of confront me about the rumours, hah?" the ash blonde was trying his best to remain calm and patient.

"Because.....I was afraid that those rumours are true." you admitted.

"And I'm here to tell you that its not fucking true. Round Face is madly in love with fucking Deku and she's not even trying to hide it. Everyone fucking knows that." he told you.

"So you don't like her?" you asked.

"Stop doubting my words." he flicked your forehead. You shut your eyes and rubbed at the sore spot, muttering a few words about how unnecessary that forehead flick was. Seeing how you looked very unconvinced with his words, his hands squeezed your cheeks together and forced you to make eye contact with him.

"Listen to me, you little shit. I am going to say this once and I am not going to repeat this. Because I have no fucking idea why you are so blind to all of this. You can be dumb at lot of things and frankly, I'm glad that you are." he sighed and you let out a gasp, offended by his words.

"Hey, I'm not dumb―" he cuts you off by squeezing your cheeks to the point where your words were all muffled.

"You're so helpless in your studies without me, its like you can't live without me. But it makes me feel special because you never ask someone else for help and always look for me. Even though you're shit at your studies, you have a really freaking strong quirk. You can be so fucking annoying and drive me insane sometimes but goddamn, how can you be so fucking adorable at the same time?" Bakugou started to get a bit frustrated now and he almost couldn't believe the words he was saying right now.

You reached to grab his hands and pried them off your face to allow yourself to speak.

"I am not going to listen to you do this any further―"

Once again, Bakugou cuts you off by leaning down and pressing a kiss to your lips. You were startled but after a brief seconds, you started to kiss him back. It's what you imagined it to be like, sweet yet fiery at the same time. You melt into the kiss, lifting a hand to cup his cheek while he cards his hand through your hair. You were the one to pull away first, taking a deep breath and you held your gaze. Bakugou looks oddly calm but you could see the red tint on your cheeks that was starting to reach the tips of his ears.

"You're red."

"Oh shut up, you're ruining the fucking mood."

Total: 3593 words Published: 07.06.2021

Thank you for requesting! ｡٩(ˊᗜˋ)و*｡ Not angsty at all actually. At least in my opinion. We hope you liked it! ― author Lou

Thank you for requesting it! We decided to let you readers decide where you're from Hope you enjoyed this! ― author Natsuki

Requests are closed! Matchups are closed!

Please do not mind the grammar mistakes and typos.

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lightsovermonaco · 3 years

Text

His Good Sweater: Chapter 9

Masterlist

As always thank you to my beautiful bestie @acollectionofficsandshit you can also thank her for all the Max content in this chapter. Its a long one, enjoy!

Word Count: 9.6k

Recommended song: “Hate the way” by G-Easy and blackbear

The one thing that never failed to lift your spirits was your dad's homemade blueberry chocolate chip pancakes. Whenever you were upset as a kid, whether it be your team losing a sporting event, your high-school boyfriend dumping you for the head cheerleader, or getting rejected from an ivy league college you never expected to get into in the first place, his pancakes had been there to cushion the fall. Clever as he was, he always messed them up in some insignificant way like leaving off the whipped cream and hiding the container so you were forced to talk to him in order to remedy it. Then he would crack some stupid joke or cheesy pun that would just barely have the ghost of a smile curling your lips.

Blueberry chocolate chip pancakes were no match for the heartbreak of losing your best friend.

The morning after, you only trudge to the kitchen when your stomach's demands to be fed become too loud to ignore. A steaming pile of fluffy pancakes sits at your usual spot, no syrup in sight. You don't have the energy to find your dad and ask where he's hidden it, instead picking at them. You knew the flavor should be fruity and sweet but every bite tastes like ash. One pancake is all you can manage before nausea roils, threatening to make your meager brunch resurface.

"Some is better than none," Ben murmurs behind you and you drop your chin in the barest of nods. "We can save the rest and you can warm them up later."

"Thanks," you mumble when he takes your plate. You pull your blanket tight around your shoulders as your gaze turns to the window while your brother washes your dishes, wishing for all the world that you could make your uncooperative limbs move and help him but the mental effort it requires is too taxing. Instead you stay curled up on the chair, the noises of the house waking up around you a dull buzz in your ears. At some point your mother kisses your head and hustles out the door to work, her husband close behind. Ben is the last to leave and is reluctant to do so.

"Promise you'll text me if you need me," he says. "Mom already gave me permission to cut class after trigonometry."

"Sure." You both know it's a lie and a bad one at that. Your voice is dull and flat, completely void of emotion.

"Mom said she's coming home early anyway,” he tries. “Something about overstaffing at the greenhouse."

"Okay."

The mechanical spooling of the garage door tells you he's finally gone. Your elbows slide forward until your head rests on the table, unable to hold it up any longer.

Every fiber of your being yearns for him, to hear the distinct r's and flowery lilt of his accent as he comforts you through the heartbreak, always knowing exactly what to say. It was second nature to call one another when either of you had had a bad day or a good day or just a normal day - you'd talked so often that last year you had convinced your parents to add international minutes to your phone plan.

Your fingers itch to dial the number you had long since memorized, knowing it would ring no more than twice before he picked up. He never let it go to voicemail unless he absolutely couldn't avoid it and you had a hunch he was waiting for your call.

Despite knowing better, you scroll through the messages on your phone. Love was evident in each witty remark and wish goodnight, pulling at your heartstrings. Your finger hovers over the delete conversation button, and after a minute of debate, you can't bring yourself to do it. You would allow yourself one reprieve to look back on and remember the good.

It would be so much easier if he had given you a reason to hate him. If he'd cheated or intentionally led the media to your house, hating him would be easy. You wouldn't have to admit that you still loved him because his betrayal would have yanked out the newly blooming bud of love you nurtured and crushed the fragile petals. Instead, you were left knowing that it had been your choice to inflict damage in him. You had no right to seek comfort in his arms or even ask how he was doing. You deserved to be miserable for causing him to feel the same way.

Yuki is the first to check in on you. You don’t know what he expects; you lie through your teeth when you tell him you were fine.

The press is asking me for my thoughts. No idea why. I told them not to stick their noses where they don't belong.

At least someone had the guts to stand up to those bloodsuckers. Yuki was the last person you'd suspect to do so, but the scrappy twenty-something continued to surprise you.

Thanks, you type back. How is he?

You hesitate. You didn't really want to know the answer. Pierre was devastated and just as broken as you are. You delete the last part and opt to refrain from subjecting yourself to biting off more than you could chew.

I'm here if you need me, is Yuki's reply.

Charles, Daniel, and his newly promoted girlfriend were the next ones to text you, all offering varying degrees of support. Daniel's friend was the one that offered to sucker punch anyone that came near you without your permission, and actually dragged a single huff of laughter from your aching lungs.

I'm good thanks. But if I need a bodyguard you'll be first on the list.

Just because Daniel can lift me with one arm doesn't mean I'm not punchy!

I believe you.

Spent, you set your phone down and retreat under the down comforter. The bright pink clashed with your earthy decor, but at least the old blanket didn't smell like Pierre. Your mother had taken it upon herself to erase all trace of him from your room when she had managed to coax you into a shower, and the half hour you had spent letting the scalding water run over your skin had given her plenty of time to do so. The absence of him hurts almost as much as the trace of cedar you know you're imagining when you breathe deep.

It has to be impossible for so much agony to be contained in your body. No matter how much you try, the tears won't stop flowing because Pierre's crushed expression had taken up residence at the forefront of your consciousness.

It didn't help that so many of your recent memories were touched by his presence. Getting into university served to remind you of the ecstatic call you'd gotten after his race that Sunday, voice strained with a mix of excitement for you and the disappointment of his race ending crash on the opening lap. Even something as simple as staring at the saggy bean bag chair in the corner brought back the memory of the countless times he had lounged there, sprawled out like he owned it.

Max's text brings you briefly back to reality.

You doing okay? Dan told me what happened.

No, was all you say back. Within a minute, Max's face occupies your screen. You sigh but accept the call, laying the phone on the pillow.

"I don't feel like talking, Max."

"That bad huh?" He asks, concern lacing his usually chipper voice.

"Yeah. That bad." As if that summed up getting your heart torn to shreds.

He's uncharacteristically quiet for a beat. "Wanna hear about Vic's day? She had some crazy clients at her salon- it'll take your mind off it."

"I guess," you say, utterly nonplussed. You could care less if he kept talking or not, you wouldn't be paying attention. He prattles on for a few minutes, seemingly unaffected by your silence as his words pass through one ear and out the other.

"Told you it was crazy," he says finally, your cue to respond. You hum noncommittally and Max just sighs.

"Look, I don't know how I can help you unless you come here. I know you have a flight booked- do you still wanna come to the gala? My date's been stolen so I'm in need of one."

"Who stole your-"

The realization hits you before you can finish. Pierre. Pierre stole Max's sister and left him without a date. Something about his willingness to replace you so quickly rubs you the wrong way. It shouldn't have been so easy for him to find someone new; he should be hurting just as much as you. Fundamentally, you knew nothing would happen between Pierre and Victoria. She wouldn't go for him out of respect for both of you and you were thankful in the knowledge that it was completely platonic. Still, it was like rubbing salt in a wound.

"You know what? I'll go." It was the most you'd said all day, your throat scratchy with disuse. Max whoops on the other line and you could almost see him punching the air in victory.

"Great! When's your flight get in? I'll bring the Acura and pick you up."

You put him on speaker and login to the airlines website to punch in the flight number. Last night you'd debated canceling the flight that Pierre had paid for, determined to stay home and be miserable. Looking back you were glad you'd trusted your gut and left the reservation untouched. If he could find someone else to attend the gala with, so could you. "I land in Nice at noon on Friday. It'll be a short flight, I can text you when we take off."

"Sounds good. I'll set up the spare room for you. Victoria is staying here too, I'm sure she would love to help you get ready and do whatever it is girls do before fancy events."

"Hey, Max?"

"Whats up?"

You trace patterns through the condensation left by the glass on your nightstand. "Thank you. For understanding."

"That's what friends are for," he assures you. "Is there anything you wanna talk about now? Or are you planning to wait until you're here?"

"Ben's been keeping an eye on me. I'm okay for now." Better now that you had something to look forward to.

"All you have to do is call," he promises. "I'll listen, I don't have anything going on this week besides streaming."

You latch on to the small redirection and run with it. "You and the twitch quartet?"

"They've been kind enough to allow me to join them on the sim this week, yeah."

"I'll try to catch a race. No promises though."

"See you Friday. Try to contain your excitement."

Your lips twitch upward. "Bye Max."

**********

The rest of the week was more of the same. You stayed home and your family dealt with the swarms of people that still gathered on the lawn each morning not so patiently waiting for you to tell your side of the story. You had decided that the best course of action was to keep your mouth shut and let them figure out for themselves that there was no longer a story to report thanks to the wedge they had driven in your relationship.

By the time Ben drives you to the airport Friday the buzz has died down. You hug your brother tight before checking in for the flight and texting Max. His response is immediate, letting you know he's excited to see you.

You wish you could return the sentiment. You wanted to see your friend, sure, but you were beginning to dread the upcoming gala. Max would be your crutch and you knew he was okay with that, but it still felt wrong.

Unlike your brother, Max was waiting at the curb when you arrived in Nice. A nondescript cap was perched on his head, the oversized sunglasses he wore hiding his eyes from passersby. His gleaming orange peel of a car attracted more attention than he did for once, people stopping to ogle the Acura as they came and went.

"Hey you," Max greets, a broad grin causing his trademark dimple to appear as he wraps you in a rare hug. You cling to him, throat going tight at the intimacy of it. Max wasn't a physical person by any stretch; if he was hugging you this tightly it meant he knew how broken you were.

He waited for you to break contact first, giving you all the time you need. You sniff and wipe the single tear that had somehow escaped and laugh lightly.

"Hey," you say, voice scratchy. "Thanks for picking me up."

He waves a hand, brushing it off. "Vic wanted to come but she changed her mind when I told her I was driving."

"Probably a smart choice," you observe, letting him pop the trunk- which was in the front of the car, since the Acura NSX was a mid-engined beast of a Japanese supercar- "and considering your choice of car, she wouldn't have fit anyway."

"This is true." He starts the engine, the roar of which makes a poor old woman a few yards away drop her purse.

The drive back is near silent, broken only by Max's occasional quips about a landmark or an observation about someone's driving. It was impossible for any driver to turn off the analytical part of their brain, their Formula 1 habits crossing into their daily lives.

When Max parks at the curb outside his apartment, you move to open the door but he hits the lock button. You glance over your shoulder at him and quirk a brow.

"Am I your prisoner?"

"Are you gonna talk about what happened?"

Sighing, you sink back into the seat. The way the bolstering hugs your sides almost makes you believe you could fade into it if you try hard enough. "I wasn't really planning on it."

It had only been a handful of days since you had broken it off, the wound still leaking fresh blood when you poked at it. It refused to scab over or give you any kind of reprieve from the torture.

"You know you'll have to face him tomorrow at some point. He'll want to talk to you."

"That's why I'm going with you. You won't have a problem telling him to leave me alone."

Max sighs. "Yeah, I suppose. If that's what you think is best."

The trudge up the stairs and subsequent silent elevator ride allows your thoughts to wander to Victoria. It wasn't her fault that Pierre had asked her to come with him after you'd canceled, after all she was already planning on going and the late notice meant it was likely no one else could make it, but it didn't stop the pang of jealousy that rocketed through you each time you ruminate on it.

It didn't help when she wrapped you in a hug the moment she saw you and whispered an apology in your ear, like she knew she'd done something wrong. Tears spring to your eyes again and Victoria shoots Max a leave us alone look.

"Uh, I'm gonna hop on the sim. Help yourself to whatever is in the fridge if you're hungry."

"Thanks Max." Your eyes are pinned to a smudge of dirt on the wood floor, safely out of range of anything triggering. Keeping it together was more of a struggle than you'd expected.

"I hope you don't hate me," Victoria starts genuine concern lacing the words. "It was just easiest-"

"I know," you cut in. "And I don't." Your smile is tight, not quite hitting home as she returns it.

"Well then. Let's figure out how we're gonna do your hair tomorrow, shall we?"

**********

The dress was a single, simple piece of fabric, spun of sunset orange and free of any bells or whistles. The feather light chiffon hugged every supple curve through your hips until flaring out slightly at the bottom just enough to allow you range of motion. The deep vee of the neckline prominently displayed your cleavage, toeing the line between attention grabbing and scandal starting and leaving little to the imagination. The back dropped low, leaving the elegant curve of your spine free to be kissed by the salty Mediterranean breeze.

The dress is nothing special compared to the thousand dollar pieces that the other boy's dates would be wearing, but you didn't have the money- or the will- to find something new. It by no means broke the bank when you picked it up from the second hand store last year, but it looked the part. It had been a showstopper at the spring formal you'd originally worn it to and judging by Max's reaction, it still was.

He let out a low whistle when you stepped into the living room. "I'm sorry, did you pick that out with me in mind?" He laughs and despite yourself, heat rises to your cheeks. You hated being the center of attention, even among friends. "It's the perfect shade of orange to match my tie. I swear I didn't plan it that way!"

"I know you didn't." You give him a forced smile, praying he doesn't call you out on it. The dress you wore hadn't been your first choice. The one you originally planned to wear still sat in your closet at home collecting dust. It had been the perfect shade of blue to compliment Pierre's sky eyes, but it didn't match Max's deeper ocean blue. So at home it had stayed, and you had chosen the orange one because it made the necklace at your throat pop.

Your fingers engulf the stone before you can stop yourself, as they always do when your thoughts wander to him. Him, because you could scarcely think his name before your heart wretches at the reminder of what you'd lost. Flashes of bright smiles and soft kisses filter through your mind, making you lock up. You swear you can feel the ghost of plush lips to your throat and the scrape of callouses over the curve of your spine. Your eyes fall shut, desperate to get lost in the idea of him like you used to.

"You good?"

Max's quiet words startle you back into the present. No, you were in no way shape or form good, but you had no choice to fall back on the familiar mask of humor to cover up your inner turmoil.

"The real question is are you?" You smirk and look him over. The Red Bull navy suit strains over his broad shoulders, suggesting he had put on muscle since the last time he'd been forced into it. "You look stiff as a board in that tux."

"I feel so awkward." He straightens the suit coat and absentmindedly lifts a hand to tousle his hair. You grab his wrist just in time to keep him from ruining his sister's hard work and shoot him a chiding look. He grins sheepishly and lowers his hand.

"Vic would kill me if you got to the gala looking like you got run over."

"That's a good point." He offers you his arm and you accept the lifeline he unwittingly offers you. "But I refuse to leave the windows up on this beautiful night, so we'll test how well it'll hold."

You quirk an eyebrow at him. "You're driving us there?"

"Well duh. I always drive when I'm at home."

You glance sidelong at the glaringly orange Acura parked at the curb a few floors below. Your dress would blend right in with the paint, but perhaps that was a good thing. It would provide that much more of a shock factor when you arrived and stepped out.

"Just don't crash out on the hairpin," you tease half heartedly.

He rolls his eyes. "At least it's just the two of us so I don't have to call an uber. Vic's getting picked up by-'' Max cuts himself off and gives you an apologetic smile.

"You can say his name," you whisper, eyes trained on the tile of the hallway as you walk. "It's not like he's gone."

"Getting picked up by... Pierre," Max tries, carefully monitoring his neutral tone. God, you thought you could handle it but you can't, stumbling over your own feet with only Max's grip on your arm to catch you.

He'd dance with Vic tonight, and probably countless other women, his hands drifting over their bodies like they'd done on yours only days ago. You'd be forced to watch from the sidelines and make small talk that no one would remember come morning, utterly unable to do anything about it. At least Daniel’s girlfriend would be there to be the voice of reason, if you could peel her away from Daniel long enough to speak with her for any length of time.

Max was uncharacteristically quiet on the ride to the venue, leaving you to study the city as he drove. Few yachts were left in the harbor as the sun was swallowed by the sea, the owners undoubtedly set sail for a weekend getaway. Your gaze involuntarily searched for the slip that held Charles' Ferrari red speedboat that you'd visited countless times with Pierre. The eyesore was hard to miss when surrounded by its monotone brethren, memories flooding back in droves at the sight of it.

Sighing, you turn away to glimpse what you can of the city through the ridiculously tiny sliver of windshield. How anyone could confidently drive the Acura while having so little field of vision was beyond you. It was probably second nature to Max, who weaves through the narrow streets with practiced ease and barely lets off the gas through the corners.

The city of Monaco rarely slept, and tonight was no different. Soft yellow fluorescent glow seeps from high rise balconies, the occupants soaking up the last dregs of sunlight before heading out to the casinos and clubs. People spilled out of cafes onto the sidewalks, their laughter lingering on the breeze as you speed past.

The list of people you trust enough to get in the car with and let them drive with such intensity is short: Max and Pierre. Not even Daniel made the final cut, not when his then not-girlfriend had recounted the tale of him losing the rear of his McLaren 570s at a track day and nearly sending them into the wall. According to her, he'd been too busy ogling her to keep his full attention on the road, but it was enough for you to question his judgement at times.

If you close your eyes, you could pretend it was someone else next to you, cutting through the gears like a hot knife through butter and coaxing every inch of performance out of the car that he could with the light traffic. You draw a surf-scented breath deep, lungs aching with the effort.

Max joins the queue of cars waiting to park outside the venue, your attention trained on the guests stepping out of cars and climbing the wide set of marble steps leading to the sleek glass building. The modern structure is slightly out of place among the Roman-esque buildings surrounding it but the air of importance it exudes overrules any who dare say it doesn't belong.

"I can't tell you how glad I am that there's an open bar," Max remarks, hanging his head out the window to wave at someone. "It makes these events so much easier."

"You're telling me," you mumble, searching involuntarily for a familiar head of dusty blond hair in the droves of people arriving. Instead of sight, it's the unforgettable rumble of his Civic Type R's exhaust that alerts you to his arrival. Your head whips around, eyes eating up the pearl white paint of Pierre's favored car as it slides in behind you. You silently thank whatever deity is listening that his windshield is tinted, protecting you from seeing the smirk you are certain is playing on his lips.

Once upon a time, the cockpit of that car had been your favorite place in the world. You'd spent countless hours inside it eating shitty gas station cuisine and singing along to the radio at the top of your lungs as Pierre drove you to whatever adventure he had planned for the day.

Max waves at your- his friend, you remind yourself sharply- and revs his Acura in response. He leaves the keys with the valet, picking up on the tension in your shoulders as the white car parks behind you. Max tugs your arm in attempt to turn you away, but your feet are rooted to the spot.

“I see you found another date-” The flash of a grin on Pierre's face as he steps out is immediately dashed when he notices you on Max's arm.

If looks could kill, Max would keel over then and there. A muscle in Pierre's jaw flutters as he takes in the sight of the two of you together, your hand on the Dutchman's forearm and your matching attire looking for all the world as if it was purposefully coordinated.

Max lifts his chin, spine going straight under Pierre's threatening glare. “Her airfare was already paid for and she already had the dress. Someone had to take her.”

Your stomach sinks; the last thing you wanted to do was become a point of contention between the two boys, but you refused to apologize for at least attempting to enjoy yourself.

Pierre doesn't speak again, only nods to Max and pointedly avoids your stare. He tosses the keys to the smart-dressed kid serving as his valet, coming around to open Victoria's door. With his back turned to you, you take a moment to study the crisp white suit he's chosen for tonight. You had always told him black wasn't his color and he seemed to have taken it to heart. White was what you loved seeing him in, and the tight cut brought back memories of a different type of suit in an entirely different city only a few weeks ago. You'd peeled him out of that Alpha Tauri race suit the moment he made it to the trailer, eager to worship him after his podium. You'd be lying if you said it hasn't been the best sex of your life.

"Come on," Max urges, placing a chaste hand on your upper back and turning you around. He leads you up the stairs, his comforting touch never leaving your skin for a moment. The callouses were all wrong, the fingers too broad to be who you wanted it to be, and yet you couldn't help but imagine it was Pierre leading you up, stopping to smile for the few cameras scattered around.

Flashes spot your vision as you pull your face into an expression of excitement. Max murmurs something in your ear that you think is encouragement but the din of reporters is too deafening to be sure.

"How come you aren't with Pierre?"

The shouted question comes from an unknown assailant but it strikes you like a physical blow. You freeze, mouth going dry as you search for a suitable excuse. Max grants you the space of a single heartbeat to respond before he does so on your behalf.

"How about you mind your own damn business and worry about your cheating wife?"

The man who had bombarded you goes slack jawed, Max's wild guess clearly somehow hitting him just as hard as he had hit you.

"Keep walking," he urges you, leading you through the blinding sea of flashing lights. When you hear the same question directed at Pierre, his flippant laugh grates on your nerves.

You don't have it in you to appreciate the grand architecture of the entrance hall, too busy trying to keep your breathing in check. Max steers you off to the side and places his hands on your shoulders.

"Look at me," he demands, and you drag your eyes up to his face. "Breathe. He's hurting just as bad as you, only difference is he's better at hiding it. Just enjoy the night okay? I'll grab you a drink and we can find Daniel and his friend and you two can catch up."

You nod, placing a hand on your throat. The delicate chain of the necklace is a vice around your neck, the reminder of him pulling it tight. Your pulse hammers beneath your fingers and you focus on it until it slows. "Get me whatever you're having."

Max disappears in the crowd, and you take a seat at the bench tucked in the corner. No one pays you any heed as they walk past, entranced by the elegant decor and fragrant florals. Your head falls forward to rest in your hands and you struggle to take deep, calming breaths.

Pierre was here. Inhale.

He looked happy. Exhale.

He was getting by. Inhale.

You could get by, too. Exhale.

Renewed, you glance up in time to find Max standing before you with a drink of dark liquid adorned with maraschino cherries in each hand. He extends one glass to you and you don't bother to question what it is before swallowing half in one go. "Better?"

"Much." You stand and brush out the wrinkles in your dress. "Where are we sitting?"

"Er, about that," Max starts, rubbing his neck sheepishly. "They put two teams at each table. We're at the Red Bull Alpha Tauri table."

"I see." You take another deep, steadying breath, letting the anxiety ebbing in your veins fade out with the exhale. It was times like this that you channeled Daniel a bit. It sounded silly and you would never admit it, but the slogans on his helmets worked if you focused on them hard enough. All good, all ways.

If Pierre could get through tonight, so could you.

“I can try to see if I can switch tables-”

"It's fine," you say and down the rest of the drink. “I can handle it.”

Max shifts on his feet, his discomfort something you rarely see from him. He usually excelled at keeping a straight face in uncomfortable situations but it seems that your unease rubbed off on him. “We should get going then, dinner will be served any minute.”

You once again take the arm he offers you, the liquor in your veins already granting you false courage. “We would have time to mingle if you hadn’t taken the scenic route.”

“It was nice out,” he protests, and pulls you to a halt when he spots Daniel across the hall. His girlfriend waves at you with a sad smile. She gestures between the two of you to indicate that you’ll talk later before Daniel pulls her towards the McLaren table. That boy was punctual to a fault and would be caught dead before he was late to anything.

Thankfully, the two of you arrive before Victoria and her date and are able to secure seats that ensure there’s a buffer between you. By some small miracle Christian Horner and his wife were absent and instead a few engineers and their significant others sat at the packed table. Max greets Gianpiero while you take your seat, happy to observe.

“Hey!”

You twist in time to see Yuki’s short frame emerge from the crowd and point to the empty seat to your right. “This one taken?”

You shake your head, standing to give him a quick hug. “How are you doing? Where’s your date?”

“Ah, she couldn’t make it. Had some family stuff to take care of. You look great, by the way.”

You dip your chin in thanks, unsure how else to respond. He was in a white suit that you were sure would wind up stained five minutes into dinner. “Did they mandate that you wear white?”

He shakes his head with a rueful smile. “Honestly, it’s the only one I own. I haven't been to enough events to build up my closet yet."

"Well I think it's…"

You spot Pierre before he sees you. His brow is slightly creased as he hunts for the correct table using the same focused determination as when driving his Alpha. For a split second, he meets your gaze. The cacophony of the event fades to background noise and suddenly it's just the two of you and you damn near lift your hand in a wave. You're positive he can see your heart beating out of your chest like in an old cartoon as you curl your fingers into a fist in your lap. Your restraint proves fatal, the floor falling out from beneath your feet when he drops your stare. This was your new normal, you remind yourself. Stolen glances were all you would get.

"I can move," Yuki says, starting to rise. You grip his wrist, holding him in place.

"Please don't." The only other open seats were across the table, and at least then you didn't have to worry about brushing elbows with him all night long.

Yuki nods, slowly settling back in. Max finally takes his seat after giving your shoulder a supportive squeeze.

"You don't have to say anything to him," he reminds you, barely audible over the scrape of chairs and various chatter.

You find anywhere else to look as Pierre pulls out Vic's chair for her and makes his rounds to greet everyone. Daniel and his girlfriend are seated a few tables away and you distract yourself by attempting to read their lips. You manage a few minutes of tenuous peace, catching snippets of Daniel's cheesy jokes and her disapproving, yet flirty, responses.

"Damn, we clean up well, huh?"

You squeeze your eyes shut at the sound of home. His words are honey and you lap them up like you'd never tasted anything sweeter. They weren't even directed at you and yet somehow you twist them to fit your narrative.

Pierre stands at the bottom of the stairs like a chaste high school prom date patiently waiting for your grand entrance. He checks his watch and rakes a hand through his messy hair. You stifle your laugh with a hand, amused by his unnecessary nervous energy.

Taking mercy on him, you clear your throat. His gaze snaps up to you, mouth falling open. You take your time gathering the orange fabric of your dress and descending the stairs, savoring the way he eats you up. He was resplendent in his crisp white tuxedo and you had half a mind to make him late for the gala and strip him out of it then and there and devour him.

Your heels clack on the marble floor of his entirely too fancy apartment and you pause to do a little spin for him, earning you an appreciative whistle for your trouble. A laugh bubbles out of you and you place your hands on his shoulders. His own settle on your waist to pull you flush against him, his body heat soaking through the thin fabric of your dress to warm your core.

"Damn, we clean up well, huh?"

You start when knuckles graze the back of your bare neck. The touch is there and gone but you know immediately that it's Pierre. It's slight enough to be brushed off as accidental to anyone else, but nothing was accidental with Pierre. The barely there contact conveys more than any words ever could.

He still loved you. You looked stunning. He wishes you were still his so he could prove it to you. All this and so much more contained in a half second brush of his skin to yours.

It all comes back to you in a rush, the emotion you'd so carefully tucked away in a locked box in the back of your mind finally set free. His touch ignites any other thought in your mind that isn't him, burning it away until it's ashes on the wind.

Despite your better judgement, you lean into him, giving him permission to unravel you. This time you sigh when his fingers ghost over your skin, electricity sparking in their wake. You didn't care who might be watching; the tiny touches were slowly repairing your shattered heart. Your traitorous mind replaces his fingers with the brush of his lips to your nape, imagining the heat as he slides the strap of your dress off your shoulder, lips moving to follow.

You bite your lip to stifle a groan when his heat is withdrawn, leaving you feeling inexplicably naked. You open your eyes to find Victoria's pitying stare paired with an apologetic smile. Max nudges you with his elbow, and you realize someone has addressed you.

"Um, what?"

"I said I like how you guys coordinated outfits," Pierre repeats and openly prods your shoulder. "Obviously Max chose the color."

His tone is playful, but his words are clipped in a way only you understand. Craning your neck, you twist to look up at him. His eyes are cloudy and his smile doesn't reach them, more for show than anything else. "It was an accident."

"Doesn't look that way."

Your retort is ready on your tongue but he doesn't give you a chance to reply before retreating to his seat. His ability to act as if nothing has changed astounds you, as your head is still reeling from the pinpricks of his skin on yours. Instead of being rendered speechless, he strikes up a conversation with Yuki about the Alpha's performance, leaving out the confidential details but giving enough away that it surprises you.

The sheer fact that he can so easily switch off whatever feelings he harbors is unfair. The sensation of his fingers on your neck still lingers and it's all you can do to keep from stepping around the table and slotting yourself between his legs like you had in that bar in London. Your nails bite into your palms, listening in if only for his voice to wash over you and calm your racing heart.

When he mentions the rake angle, you know it's just to mislead anyone who might be eavesdropping. He'd told you the exact angle in the past, and it certainly was not one degree, and it did not cause the level of understeer he was describing.

"The understeer comes from improper tire selection," you blurt. "And driver error."

All eyes turn to you and you straighten. You knew enough about the construction of a Formula 1 car to be positive your assessment was correct. You were almost as certain that he'd said it to force you into speaking to him whether you liked it or not.

"What was that?"

If Pierre could torment you with his subtle touches, you could do the same and call him out when he was wrong.

"Driver error caused the rear end to slide out around that turn in Japan, not the rake angle. That's got nothing to do with it. Your tires were blistered because of you taking an imperfect racing line and they were old. You miscalculated the level of traction they'd give you."

Why no one else had pointed it out was beyond you.

"So you're an engineer now?" Pierre challenges, crossing his arms. Something about the arrogance radiating from him rubbed you the wrong way. You let all the emotion of the past few days surface and add fuel to the fire.

"No, but I've learned enough to see through the bullshit drivers spin to mislead other teams."

Max murmurs your name in warning but your frustration is boiling over. He replaced you tonight, didn't even pause to consider going alone and instead choosing to take Victoria. Sure, it had been your fault that he was dateless, but that didn't give him the right to hurt you too. He knew it would destroy you to see him with anyone else even if it was completely platonic, but he did it anyway.

"Why don't you tell me where I should brake on turn ten since you're an expert all of a sudden?" Victoria lays a hand on his arm but he yanks it out of her grip. "What crack in the pavement? Or is it a mark on the barrier? Drive one lap in my car and then you can tell me how to drive."

It wasn't your analysis that had upset him. You'd done so plenty of times and he had always taken your criticism with an open mind, using it to tweak his driving style to improve his lap time or turn it into a teaching experience so you could learn. No, judging by the way his eyes are lined with silver that he fights to blink away, it's your betrayal that upsets him and rightfully so. You glance around the table but no one is willing to meet your eyes save for Max, who angles his head as if to say fight for it.

But you can't. It's monumentally easier to let Pierre win and sweep it under the rug than to address the deeper issue. "I was trying to help," you say lamely, picking at the salad in front of you.

"You don't get to do that anymore."

The venomous words hit like knives, knocking the breath out of you. Your mouth hangs open like a fish gasping for air but any reply you think up dies on your tongue.

As the music fades out and a man climbs up onto the stage, Pierre gets up and leaves. You track his progress as he weaves through tables, noting Daniel reaching for him as he passes. You flinch when the balcony door slams behind him, an astonished murmur rocking through the crowd.

"You should probably talk to him," Max whispers.

You shake your head, not trusting yourself to speak. You had no idea what you would say. 'Sorry' was insignificant and 'I love you' would be cruel when the barest of thought regarding how the media treated you made your stomach churn.

Max pulls his phone out under the table and you think you see Charles' name on the screen. Good; someone had to make sure Pierre didn't do anything he would regret in the morning and if it wasn't you, Charles was the next best chaperone. A minute later, the Ferrari driver leaves his seat too, exiting the same way as Pierre.

Focusing on what's said on stage proves fruitless. Try as you might, your attention is trained on the side door Pierre had disappeared through, praying he returns despite knowing it would mean more barbed words hurled at you. Neither he nor Charles return at any point during the presentation. His absence was quickly becoming a gaping black hole, swallowing up any semblance of sanity you had managed to gather in preparation for tonight.

"Try to have some fun," Max says, nudging you with an elbow. "As soon as this guy shuts up I’ll get us some more drinks and then we can eat and get out on the dance floor and forget about everything, yeah?"

You nod. You already feel the buzz of the first drink, and one or two more would push you thoroughly over the edge into blissful forgetfulness. "I don't wanna be sad anymore."

**********

He didn't know where he was going. All he knew was that he had to get away from you before he said something that would tear whatever hope he held of repairing what was between you to ribbons. He registers Daniel's low, "Gas, you good?" as he breezes past, but doesn't pause to answer. His sights are locked on the wide, carved oak doors that lead to fresh air.

The breath whooshes out of him when he flings open the balcony doors. They slam behind him and he winces. Chalk that up as something else for Helmut to pick him apart for on Monday.

Pierre rakes a trembling hand through his hair and rests his elbows on the railing, sucking in lungfuls of air like he'd just surfaced from a dive in the harbor.

When you'd agreed to come to the gala with him, he had been overjoyed. You hadn't made it to the winter gala earlier this year due to a last minute exam and he had sulked the entire night. He still had the place card embossed with your name in the fishbowl by his door, the sizable container nearly overflowing with memories of you. Everything from forgotten earrings to plastic hotel key cards filled the bowl and it was a bright reminder of your adventures together. His plan had been to add another place card to the mix after tonight but after what he'd just said to you, he'd rather forget today ever happened.

He fucking hurt. Everything just hurt, from the shirt collar scratching at his neck to the bone deep ache that had started when he laid eyes on you on those steps, arm locked with Max's. You'd stolen the words from his mouth, the jab he'd planned to toss at Max dying at the sight of you.

He hadn't expected you to come tonight. Despite anyone's objections, he'd been fully prepared to get completely shit faced to the point that the ghost of your skin no longer haunted his fingertips and your voice no longer sang in his head. But seeing your damned face had shattered the false reality he had constructed, the one where you never broke him and left him scrambling to piece himself back together.

The universe had dealt him another low blow when he discovered Red Bull and Alpha Tauri would be at the same table and he'd be forced to endure your presence at arms length, close enough to touch but absolutely not allowed to do so. It was his own personal hell, constructed solely to punish him for whatever transgressions he'd made in his life.

And that fucking dress.

The orange painted the aquamarine charm at the hollow of your throat in sharp relief, showing it off like he somehow still owned you. If you had arrived with him, he would have already led you back to the Civic and bunched that damned dress up past your hips to drag his favorite sounds from you with his tongue. If he could just get you alone, he's sure it wouldn't take more than a single touch to have you crashing into him and begging for more.

Seeing you with Max tonight paints an entirely different picture.

It's Max he sees tearing off the dress at the end of the night when you get back to his apartment. Max's hands slide over your hips and you laugh, walking back so you can keep your lips on his as he slams the door shut behind you. You dip your head back when he presses you to the wall, Max unfaltering as his lips and teeth trace the curve of your exposed throat and he slips the straps of the matching dress of your shoulders to let it pool at your feet. Max's name breezes past your lips on a shaky exhale as you become putty beneath his fingers.

No matter how loud Pierre calls your name, you don't hear him, instead cupping the back of the Dutchman's head and pulling him in for a heated kiss. When you do finally notice him observing from afar, agony wracking his body, all you do is grin. It feels real, even though Pierre is certain it's a crazed fever dream, his mind spinning his worst fear to life: you seeking comfort in the company of someone that wasn't him.

Pierre starts when the door squeaks open, the nightmare thankfully dissolving. Charles steps out clad head to toe in blazing Ferrari red and instantly he knows who sent him. The thought alone stokes rage in his chest, the image of your lips on Max's still fresh.

"Not as easy as you expected it to be, is it?" He asks, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

"Fuck off," Pierre growls and immediately regrets it. Beyond you, Charles was his closest friend. They had known each other for ages. It wasn’t a friendship he was willing to sacrifice just because he felt like shit. Pierre sighs and throws him an apologetic glance. "No it's not."

"Why don't you talk to her?"

"She doesn't want to fucking talk, Charles. Take one look at her, she's hanging on Max like she can't get enough of him." Pierre hangs his head in his hands, emotions shifting faster than he did on race day. "I can't go back in there and watch her choose him over me."

"You don't really believe that bullshit, do you?" Charles asks, joining him at the railing.

Not entirely, but he still struggled to understand your thought process. He thought he knew you, but you being here tonight when he had been certain you wouldn't be proved he didn't.

"I don't know what to believe anymore. I thought it would be forever, that I'd finally found someone who didn't mind my lifestyle and accepted it for what it was, who loved me unconditionally. I thought she was my forever."

"You think she's done with you just because some assholes invaded her privacy?" Charles shakes his head. "She's loved you for a long time, years even. You haven't seen the looks she gives you, but the rest of us have. You hung the moon in her sky, Pierre. That kind of thing doesn't just get swept away by the breeze."

His shoulders curl inward in an attempt to hide the frustrated tear that escapes him. "What am I supposed to do?"

Charles shrugs. "I don't think there's a right answer to that. Try giving her some space. She didn't grow up in the spotlight like we did. It's not an easy adjustment for some people, mate. And blowing up on her when she tries to make conversation doesn't help anything," he says gently. "Let her figure it out and come to you when she's ready."

The concept of letting you go even temporarily was terrifying to him. Waiting on you to make the first move was even worse because he was setting his fate in your hands.

"I miss her," he murmurs, turning his face to his friend.

"I know." Charles throws an arm around the taller man's shoulders and follows his gaze out over the tiered streets of Monaco's city center. "My suggestion is to throw yourself into the season. Show her you know how to fight, y'know?"

Pierre nods. He could do that. It was how he normally handled his problems anyway; let the track wick away whatever was on his mind and force him to hone in on the details surrounding him in each moment.

"You ready to head inside?" Charles asks.

"I don't think I can go back just yet."

"Want me to hang out here with you?"

"No. I'll be back eventually."

Charles' hand falls from his shoulder after a short squeeze, the sound of a tinny voice over the speakers temporarily flooding the balcony as Charles returns to the banquet. Pierre allows himself a few more moments of reprieve before slipping back inside just as the applause starts. Rather than returning to the delicately portioned meal that sat cooling before his empty chair, he orders a drink. Whiskey on the rocks, his go to in times of crisis. He takes one sip before the reminder of you ordering it for him in London makes holding the glass of caramel liquid unbearable and he downs it in a single swallow, going back to order a beer instead.

He nurses the green bottle of Heineken as he leans against the wall until the meal is finished and the chit chat starts. You stand with Max, practically pressed against him as you snatch a flute of champagne from a passing server. You search the crowd, brows drawing together when you don't locate your quarry. Pierre had made sure that he was tucked out of the low lighting, unsure if he could survive you stealing worried glances at him all night.

Charles winds his way over to pass off a roll he snagged from dinner, practically forcing the Frenchman to eat it before returning to his date. He nibbles at it absentmindedly, entirely too focused on you to divert an ounce of focus elsewhere.

Your dress is a glowing sun in a sea of earth tone garments, drawing his eye as you pull Max out onto the wood platform serving as the dance floor before the tables are fully cleared. The flush in your cheeks tells him you're deeper in your cups than you should be; Max didn't know your limit as well as he did. Three drinks was all you could manage before you got tipsy, five if you wanted to be completely blitzed.

The lights dim and his hiding spot is no longer quite as good as the party lights sweep over him from time to time. Max places one hand on your hip and you place one on his shoulder and grin up at him. Judging by the fit of giggles that requires you to lean into Max for support, you were teetering dangerously on the edge of being wholly drunk. You throw your head back and laugh at whatever Max says in response to your fit, Pierre straining to hear the musical sound over the band.

"Hey," Victoria says, breaking his concentration. "You wanna get out there?"

Pierre grimaces. He had managed to completely forget about her, too stuck in his own head. "Sorry, Vic. I don't think I'd be a very good partner tonight."

"No worries," she says, a soft, understanding smile on her lips. "I can keep myself busy."

Pierre nods his thanks, his attention immediately returning to the dance floor. Daniel and his girlfriend steal the show, both laughing as he dips and twirls her across the floor.

Being together was so fucking easy for them, effortless in a way it wasn't for you and Pierre. They never once paid any heed to the photographers that swarmed them or the headlines printed about them, they just laughed the rumors off and carried on. No one could question their love for each other because they were vocal about it- sometimes annoyingly so- and Daniel was rarely seen in public without her at his side. They were always touching, holding hands or stealing kisses or even the near scandal of his hand blatantly on her ass at the podium a few races back, and neither of them cared.

Their love was all that mattered. They didn't care who knew it.

But you and Pierre were far too private to be like that, at least not when you were still trying to figure things out yourself. The first sign of outside pressure had you cracking, and he wouldn't stand for knowing he was the source of your pain.

He tries and fails to convince himself he isn't jealous of the way Dan's hand so easily glides under the navy blue silk of her dress to caress her back without a second thought, wishing he could do the same to you. If he's being honest, he's living vicariously through Daniel for the next few songs, pretending he was someone else observing you and himself on the dance floor instead. It almost works; the way she shudders when his lips graze her ear is strikingly similar to how you'd react. The smile she flashes up at him is agonizingly close to your own wicked grin.

When her mouth finds his, Pierre gathers his wits and turns away. Their blatant public affection flipped a switch inside him, disgust rocking through him for a split second before he pushed it away.

He was happy for them. He knew what a long, rocky road it had been for them to become lovers instead of friends, had firsthand knowledge of the stress they'd gone through before they'd finally admitted their feelings to each other, put their pride aside and got together. Pierre had been the one to offer her advice on a night not much different than this one months ago, helping repair the damage Daniel's idiotic, thoughtless words had caused.

But Pierre had since become the person who was sickened at the sight of others in love. It reminded him that part of himself was missing and he hated it.

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't keep his eyes from wandering back to you. You still occasionally scan the room as Max struggles to lead you through a dance. By some stroke of bad luck your gaze snags on him just as a spotlight illuminates his face and he grimaces. A slow blink is the only surprise you let show before laying your head on Max's shoulder. Jealousy spikes through him like wildfire, igniting his blood and tinging his vision with red.

He wants to march over and rip you off Max. He wants you tucked safely against him as his thumb rubs circles on the bare skin of the small of your back. He wants, more than anything, to take you to his apartment and half carry you up the stairs, having to shush you because you're giggling loud enough to wake the dead, and lay you down in his bed. He wants to help you out of that stunning dress and into a pair of his sweats and curl up against you, letting you sleep off your hangover until noon.

He'd fucked up that chance though, hadn't he? He had slipped up and driven you straight into your friend's arms, who he trusted not to make a move on you but not enough to negate the jealousy coursing through him.

In that moment, he hates you. He hates the hold you have on him, the way a simple gesture between half-drunk friends could send him into a spiral so steep he didn't recognize himself. He hates that he can't keep his eyes off you, your gravity too strong for him to resist.

Most of all, he hates that he doesn’t know how to quit you.

@seasidetom @flashcal @limp-wrist-max @sunshinesewis @lifeofzoemichael @ninuffi @perfectfantasies22 @lamboleglerg @ladyperceval

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moony-meadow · 3 years

Text

The Very Hungry Beelzebub (2)

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With an echoing splash, I fell into the space that could only be Beelzebub’s stomach. Terror took hold of me as the reality of my situation fully settled in. Desperately, I scrambled to my feet. There was liquid up to my knees, and though it was pitch black, the area felt more spacious than the previous stomach I had occupied. I didn’t dwell on those details long though.

I threw myself against the wall of the stomach I was trapped in, pressing my palms into the squishy surface as though I would be able to phase through it. “Nonononono--this can’t be happening, I can’t--” I froze. Had I just spoken? One of my hands jumped to my throat. “Ahhhh,” I tested. When I felt the vibrations beneath my hand, I became sure I hadn’t imagined my own voice.

Evidently, the silencing spell Beel cast on me had been temporary. The effects had lasted just long enough for the demon to get me exactly where he wanted me. “Maybe it’s not too late,” I breathed. It was just at that moment I noticed a burning sensation beginning to prick at the parts of my skin submerged in the liquid that pooled at the bottom of Beel’s stomach.

“Stomach acid. I’m standing in stomach acid,” I reminded myself. And unlike when I’d been in Mammon’s stomach, there was nothing stopping this acid from doing its job and dissolving anything it came in contact with.

I struggled to prevent my own panic from halting all rational thoughts. I needed to keep it together. There was still a chance I could survive this.

Pressing myself up against the wall I guessed to be the outermost, I screamed out Beel’s name as loudly as possible. I didn’t wait for a response before announcing my command. “I order you not to digest me!” My voice was shrill and shaky. The words sounded more like a desperate plea than a command from a master. Were I not currently in a life or death situation, I would have felt self conscious. As it was, I was just glad I had managed to get it all out.

In the next instant, I felt the muscles surrounding Beel’s stomach tense. And then suddenly, the painful burn from the acid retreated as the liquid drained away. A few moments later and I was standing in a completely dry environment, with only the stinging of my skin to show the dangerous liquid had been present in the first place.

Slumping down to the floor, I released a heavy sigh of relief. Ever since arriving in the Devildom, I’d had my fair share of near death experiences. Hell, I’d even been killed once (in an alternate timeline, of course). However, my familiarity with dangerous situations didn’t make them any easier to deal with. I still felt like I’d been figuratively run over by a truck.

“Y/N?” The sudden rumbling voice shook me out of my brooding. I startled slightly as the wall I had been leaning against was gently pushed inwards, no doubt by a hand pressing from the outside.

“Beel? Are--are you...yourself right now?” I questioned uncertainly. When he had said my name, it had been tentative and soft--much more like it usually was than what I’d heard only minutes ago. However, I had to remain wary. The last thing I wanted was to be struck with another silencing spell.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry!” Beel cried. Though he didn’t directly answer my question, his response easily gave him away. He was back to his normal self. “I-I didn’t mean to--oh god, I could’ve killed you!” Now that my panic had ebbed, it seemed it was Beel’s turn to freak out. His voice was riddled with genuine horror and fear.

After Beel had first told me about his secret eighth sibling, Lilith, and the crushing guilt he felt in regards to her death, I began to see the demon in a new light. He was someone who cared deeply for his family, someone who wanted nothing more than to protect those he cared about. So when he felt as though he failed in that task, Beel placed every ounce of that guilt on his own shoulders. It made my heart ache to witness, especially now that his guilt was in regards to me.

“Beel, it’s okay. I know you would never do that when you’re...well when you’re in your right mind,” I assured him, hoping he could feel the soft pat I gave his stomach wall.

“Are you okay in there?” Beel questioned urgently, giving no indication whether or not he accepted my forgiveness or not.

Automatically, my hand reached for my still slightly aching legs and feet. The fabric of my pajama bottoms and socks, while still present, did feel markedly thinner. I suspected it would have been only a matter of time before the clothing dissolved altogether. “I-I’m fine,” I told Beel. “Just a little shaken up, that’s all.” I was attempting to sound reassuring, but the fact that my voice was still wavering slightly probably didn’t help me to be convincing.

The giant hand resting against the outside of the stomach began to move in a slow back and forth movement. It was surprisingly soothing, given the circumstances. “You’re sure I didn’t hurt you?” Beel asked softly. It was crazy how such an imposing looking demon could manage to sound like a little puppy dog.

“I promise, I’m okay,” I insisted. “I just need you to get me out of here.” I almost wanted to remind Beel that this wasn’t my first time in someone else’s stomach, in an effort to assuage some of his worries. However, I still wasn’t quite comfortable bringing up that little tid-bit of information. The fact that I had somehow managed to end up eaten by two separate demons in a matter of days still caused me quite a bit of embarrassment.

“How can I do that?” Beel inquired, seeming uncertain.

“You just need to...well cough me up basically.”

The experience of Mammon forcing himself to hack me up hadn’t exactly been pleasant. In fact, I might even argue it was worse going up than it had been going down. But considering it was pretty much the only viable option, short of someone cutting Beel open and pulling me out, I was resigned to going through it again.

My statement was met with silence on Beel’s end. I was fairly certain he had heard me, so what was preventing him from responding? “Beel, is there a problem?”

There was a pause and then, “I...I’m not so sure I’ll be able to bring you back up.” the demon admitted miserably.

I raised a questioning eyebrow. “Why do you say that?”

Beel’s stomach expanded and then contracted as he blew out a low sigh. “Unless I’m sick, I-I really can’t spit out or throw up anything I’ve eaten.” He sounded sincere, however what he was saying must’ve been a lie.

“What about that time you accidentally swallowed some of Solomon’s cooking and had to hack it up?” The occasion was difficult to forget considering the taste of the food the sorcerer had cooked still haunted me to this day.

Another moment’s hesitation. Beel clearly was reluctant to voice whatever it was he planned on saying. The rubbing against the outside wall of the stomach came to a stop. “That’s because my body only lets me get rid of stuff I didn’t enjoy eating,” he finally divulged, the words sounding almost like an apology.

It wasn’t surprising to me that Beelzebub had taken pleasure in eating me. It had been well established that he found me to be delicious even before today. I’d accepted the fact that everyone in the Devildom (excluding Solomon and the angels) considered me to be some kind of delicious treat. No, that part wasn’t what bothered me. I was much more concerned with the news that Beel believed himself incapable of getting me out the only way that I knew worked.

Anxiety was threatening to sneak back into the forefront of my mind, but for the moment, I managed to push it back. “Well you can at least give it a try, right?” I offered.

“Of course, just--just hold on,” Beel replied.

When Mammon had coughed me up, it had seemed to help if I stood up straight and still. I assumed the same position this time, bracing myself for the oncoming onslaught of movement around me.

My environment folded slightly, I assumed in response to Beel bending over. Next, a firm weight appeared at the front of the stomach from his hand. Then came the coughing and retching that shook my whole world. Last time, when I’d been in Mammon’s stomach, it had taken only a matter of minutes before I was spat out onto the palm of the demon’s hand. This time however, nearly ten minutes passed with absolutely zero progress, and I could tell the process was beginning to take a physical toll on Beel.

“Hey, hey, you can stop!” I called out, lightly pounding on a wall of the stomach. It seemed pretty clear that Beel’s assumption had been right. We would have to find some other way to get me out.

The motion of Beel’s heavy breaths surrounded me. “I’m so sorry, Y/N.” His voice was riddled with guilt and sorrow.

I was about to insist that he had nothing to apologize for when suddenly I heard the distant sound of a door opening. It felt as though every muscle in Beel’s body tensed as he too realized someone was entering the room. Both he and I could only pray it wasn’t Lucifer.

“Oh hey, Beel. I was just lookin’ for Y/N.” I released a sigh of relief at the sound of Mammon’s voice. While I loathed the idea of letting the Avatar of Greed know I had once again been eaten, he was the only demon in the House of Lamentation I would even consider letting in on my current predicament. At least the secret would still go no further than Beel, Mammon, and I. “They’re not in their room, have you seen--” Mammon stopped mid-sentence. I could only assume he had just noticed the state of the kitchen. Sure enough the next words that came out of the demon’s mouth were, “What the hell happened here?”

#shall we vore #g/t #giant/tiny #g/t vore #soft vore

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angsty-violet · 3 years

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Gasping

Brimmer sighed and adjusted his glasses. He knew he was caught out, and he couldn’t stand it. How dare this insolent, shabby lieutenant figure it out? How dare he undo all the hard work Brimmer had put in? He scowled at the man as Columbo explained what had led him to find out it was Brimmer. Brimmer could feel his temper start to rise, but he didn’t care. It was all over anyway. They knew it was him, they had the evidence, and they had him confessing to witnesses. The temper reached its boiling point, and before any of them could blink, he was on Columbo.

He talked the man to the ground and put his hands around the throat. He could hear the shouting of the other policemen, but it was distant like he was underwater. The only thing he knew was that he wanted to kill Columbo, and he was going to do it with his bare hands. He had the satisfaction of the lieutenant gasping for breath underneath his hands for a few paltry seconds. Then he was being hauled off him and carried away.

They dragged him away, shouting in anger and screaming at Columbo.

Columbo rubbed gently at his neck. That was going to bruise badly. Edward would be appalled, but then he usually was when Columbo came home like this. Columbo gave a single thought more to his lover and then turned back to Mr. Kennicutt. He gave him a weak smile and glanced down at the contact lens in his hand.

Likely the man would be shocked when he realized that this was all for a hunch that just happened to play out on luck.

At the precinct, he had excused himself to the bathroom to inspect the bruises on his neck. They had turned purple and when he probed one gently with a finger, a sharp pain radiated outward. A few hours had passed, and somehow, it had become even worse.

All Columbo wanted to do was crawl into bed with Edward and sleep for the next week. However, before he could do anything, he needed to finish his report, complete the rest of the paperwork, and check in with his Captain.

That knowledge didn’t make it any easier to go out there and do his job, though. Columbo scrubbed a hand over his face and, for the first time since he had made detective, felt the urge to run away. To leave the precinct and never look back. He knew that he never could do that, though. He would power through the last of the paperwork, and then the day would be over. He gave one last glance in the mirror to look at the dark shapes that decorated his neck, and then he forced himself back into the bullpen.

Columbo made a beeline for the coffee pot. Edward was pressuring him to give it up, and Columbo had scaled back quite a bit. However, to get through the rest of this miserable day, he would need a cup of stomach-eating sludge.

He got his coffee and headed back to his desk, where he spent 45 minutes slogging through the rest of his paperwork. When he finally managed it, he gave a sigh of relief, set it into the interoffice mail to be forwarded to the right people, and quickly stepped into his Captain’s office.

She looked up at him and glanced at his neck. “All finished, Lieutenant?”

“Yes, ma’am. All the paperwork is ready to go.

She nodded. “Alright then, go home and get a little rest. You have the next three days off. You’ve taken a lot of overtime lately, so let’s move your schedule around a little. Besides, we hopefully won’t need you for that long.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He agreed with a smile.

“Take care of yourself, Frank. It would help if you got into less trouble. One of these days, Edward is just going to lock the door and never let you out again.”

Columbo laughed in agreement. “Probably, but that’s what retirement is for. He can lock me in the house and take me out on vacations as much as he wants when we get there.”

She nodded and waved him out of her office.

Columbo took a deep breath and entered the house. He knew that Edward would be upset. They had had this argument a thousand times. Columbo would come home injured, Edward would go into overprotective mode, and they would argue about Columbo taking so many risks on the job.

Edward was in the living room sipping on a drink and watching the news. He glanced up as Columbo entered and his drink stopped halfway to his mouth.

“What the Fuck happened to you?”

Columbo flinched a little, and Edward’s face softened.

“They had him off me in ten seconds flat. I didn’t take any chances this time. I had plenty of back-up there to help. I had no idea that he was going to attack me in front of a group of policemen.”

Edward approached him and wrapped his long arms around him. He rested his chin on top of Columbo’s head and held him close. Solid, dark fingers gripped his back firmly, and he sighed softly.

“I love you so much, Frank. You know that, right?”

Columbo nodded into his chest lightly. “I hate it when you come home to be banged-up and bruised. I want you to be safe, and when you aren’t, it scares me. However, it does make me feel better that you are more careful out in the world. It’s nice to know that you have back-up when you are doing these stunts.”

“Can you live with that?” Columbo asked him softly.

Edward traced the purple bruises. “Yes, I can. I am happy if there is someone to pull the crazies off you and stop them from killing you. Let’s get you cleaned up and into bed. Tomorrow you can tell me all about the crazy guy who tried to kill you.”

Edward took his hand and led Columbo towards the bedroom.

#whumptober2021 #no.2 #choking #columbo #fanfic #violence #whump #hurt columbo #columbo x oc #oc:edward walters #s01eo2:death lends a hand

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gayenerd · 3 years

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These are “outtakes” from Billie Joe’s 2010 Out Magazine interview. The link is still up, but for some reason they took out his answers about masculinity and femininity????? And those are obviously the most interesting answers! Anyway, here’s the whole thing I had saved in a doc

March 19, 2010

Billie Joe Armstrong Tells All

Photo: Kurt Iswarienko

Our April Broadway issue features Green Day's front man Billie Joe Armstrong chatting about music, politics, and the new musical, <i>American Idiot,</i> based on the band's last two albums. The writer of the piece (and former Popnography editor) Shana Naomi Krochmal filed the following exclusive extras from her interview with Armstrong that didn't make it into the piece. In them, Billie Joe touches on masculinity, his queer influences, and meeting Lady Gaga:

ON MASCULINITY:

Out: Is masculinity important to you?

Billie Joe Armstrong: I think it can come in handy, if it’s used the right way.

What’s the right way?

I think you learn a lot from Little League baseball. Like how to be a good team player, what do you do in situations when you’re at bat and it’s just you and another person. When you lose, how do you deal with losing? When you win, are you a good winner? And a graceful winner? How do you contribute to a team situation selflessly? I think there’s a lot of leadership skills in that. I don’t know if that’s masculinity or just good leadership or just life lessons. I just used Little League baseball because it’s male dominated.

Do your kids play?

They did. My oldest is done now, and my youngest one does. It was a real good bonding experience. I think masculinity is a lot more feminine than people give it credit for. Or it can be. Jim Morrison seemed very masculine to me, but also completely feminine at the same time. That balance in between -- and it’s not those morons on the bus in Borat. That’s not masculinity, that’s insecurity at its worse. Masculinity is something that women can have.

What is feminine about you?

I’m not sure. Let me think. It’s all about being a well rounded a person. I think being a singer is very feminine. Being a singer is a very feminine thing -- performing is definitely. Women have a lot more courage I think than men do, in a lot of ways -- if you think about what Madonna does or Lady Gaga or Beyonce. Women have a much easier time of reinventing themselves than I think men do. Hmm, I think -- a little bit of eyeliner. [Laughs] But I think there’s a big difference between vanity and femininity. I think that feminine side has served me a lot more than my masculine side has in a lot of ways.

ON PERFORMING AT THE GRAMMYS:

That was such a great night. There’s a whole thing where you’re worried about the awards part of it, and it can make you kind of irritable, kind of stressed out. But the great thing is that we had a chance to play with the cast, which has never really been done before.

ON THE MOST EMOTIONAL PARTS OF THE SHOW:

When Rebecca [Naomi Jones] sings “Letterbomb,” that really blows me away. The scene where Tunny’s on the gurneys and they’re singing “Before the Lobotomy.” And “Last Night on Earth” is an amazing scene with the couple doing this heroin dance. Tony [Vincent] is singing the song -- the first verse while they’re slamming smack -- and then the next verse is Mary coming out with a baby that she’s had with a guy who turns out to be a loser father. I get chills thinking about it right now. The juxtaposition between the two scenes is like -- wow.

ON WRITING AN ORIGINAL MUSICAL:

I’d definitely be interested in it. I think we’re in a really rare situation where this is gaining momentum. I don’t want to screw it up by working on something else. I’d love to do something with Michael [Mayer]. I’ve always wanted to see what it would be like to score a film -- but this, this is even more special, I think.

ON KNOWING TOO MUCH:

When you start getting into politics, what I’ve realized is that if it seems to be black and white, it’s shooting off into so many different directions. You can’t really keep up with what’s happening in the House of Representatives. Things like Hurricane Katrina, Haiti, troops in Afghanistan, financial crisis -- even Tiger Woods. It seems to be one thing after the next.

ON HIS QUEER INFLUENCES:

My uncle. There were different punk singers, from a guy named Cretin Chaos in Social Unrest to guys like Morrissey. And also guys that would genderbend a little, like Bowie, or Mike Ness from Social Distortion wearing makeup. I’ve always liked music that was non-gender specific, like the Replacements song called “Androgynous.” It was just always those little things or people that were willing to make you think, whoa, that’s not what I’m hearing on the radio these days.

ON MEETING LADY GAGA AT THE MTV VIDEO MUSIC AWARDS:

She had this outfit on -- she had so much shit on her when she walked by! She couldn’t move her arm because she was going on to do her performance, and it was like shaking hands with someone in a cast. She had this handler that was like, “Don’t touch the costume! Don’t touch the costume!” She said something about how she loved Dookie so much she used to lick the pages. I thought it was really cool. She’s influencing a lot of young people, and she’s doing it in a way that’s provocative. And a lot of people don’t realize that she’s an artist, and she’s been one for a really long time. She’s taking something that Bowie or Madonna did and taking it a step further.

ON WHAT IT MEANS TO BE “PUNK ROCK”:

That’s like a 10 part answer. I think of it as something that you need to have of your own. For me it’s about community. I think it’s kind of spiritual in its own way, because people fight over it so much and the meaning of it. It’s a sense of self-discovery. But also a new set of ideas and a new poetry, a new music that you discover that you notice that no one else is really into, or goes against what other people are normally into. It’s like you’re free to be an individual and taking on new ideas and challenging old ideas. I think it has a lot to do with burning down the establishment to create something new. But at the same time, you find relationships within that too. It’s something that’s supposed to empower you. It’s about starting something new. Part of the problem with a lot of punk rock is that people believe that it’s supposed to be one thing. Everything for me starts off with punk rock when I’m writing songs -- it’s almost like I’m stripped down to the bare bones of music again. It’s kind of in my DNA in this point.

ON HIS WIFE, ADRIENNE:

She’s great. She’s beautiful. Without her, I don’t know what I’d do. She empowers me to challenge myself in a lot of ways. She inspired the song “American Idiot” by playing me this Midnight Oil song that she really loved. She runs a store called Atomic Garden, all about sustainable living. She’s really active in NRDC, politically. Sometimes I think she’s a hell of a lot more interesting and a cooler person than I am.

ON HIS “MISERABLE” HIGH SCHOOL EXPERIENCE:

Academically you have to completely re-figure out how to prioritize your life. And suddenly you feel like the whole fucking world is against you because they’re prioritizing for you. And it’s forced on you. And if you don’t get it at that age, if you don’t catch it -- that’s what happened to me, I didn’t prioritize anything. I just got to a breaking point where it was like, by my later high school years, “You’re all full of shit anyway. Everyone’s full of shit. I know what I’m doing, and fuck school, and fuck schoolwork, and I’m not going to go to fucking college anyway, and I’m gonna play in a rock band, and you’re all gonna be sorry.” You get vengeful -- it’s a natural instinct, all those hormones going and shit.

ON BEING HAPPIER AT AGE 38:

I kind of feel like things are getting better. It goes in stages. I loved my early twenties. I hated my late twenties. I was a drunk. I was trying to figure out how to be a father, a husband, but I still wanted to live my life like a crazy punk rock rock star. You start noticing things about yourself. You have to change your health habits. But you don’t want to change. In your twenties, change is hitting you over the head whether you like it or not. Right when I got to about 30 I was like, thank God that’s over. But it gets complicated again.

#Billie: 'Masculinity is something that women can have'#Me: 'OmG hE's TaLkInG aBoUt Me'#article #interview #articles #billie joe armstrong

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mystoriesofthegalaxy · 3 years

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Need You Now

(Peggysous Week 2021)

Day 4: song fics; @peggysousweek thanks for hosting!

Summary: Peggy and Daniel are thinking about and missing each other while being separated by many many miles. (Set between Season 1 and 2)

Song: Need You Now by Lady A (listen here, this is my favourite version of the song!)

A/N: This is the first time I am writing a Peggysous fic, which is why I am quite anxious about uploading this, but here it is. I ended up writing something with almost no plot and a lot of yearning oops.

Also, English is not my first language so I apologise for all the mistakes and the misuse of words!

You can read this here on Ao3 as well if you like :)

~*~

Picture perfect memories

Scattered all around the floor

Reaching for the phone cause

I can't fight it anymore.

With a sigh, Peggy ran her hand through her hair and shook her head. It could definitely not go on like this.

Ever since he had left New York, she was behaving so unlike herself that even she found it hard to believe.

And yet here she was, sitting alone in her room, next to the open window, looking outside into the dark street, the shining of the street lamps the only light on that cloudy Friday night.

Daniel Sousa was gone, that was a fact, and instead of feeling miserable she should be moving on and should go on with her life like every sensible human being would do. After all, she should be happy for him, shouldn't she?

It was a big opportunity for him, becoming the chief of the SSR West Coast bureau, and why not take the chance if there was nothing - or no one - holding him back?

She couldn't help but wonder, though, about what could have been, would he not have decided to take the position. Or if she hadn't wrecked it all.

For a second, she closed her eyes, reveling in their shared little memories. All the times Daniel had aped Jack whenever the latter was acting up again, making Peggy chuckle. All the times Daniel had brought her a cup of coffee whenever she had been delving into the huge amount of paperwork that had to be done, that lovely smile of his on his lips when he had placed the cup on her desk.

And then, a certain memory resurfaced, a wonderful memory that was very dear to her and back then had whirled up the feelings in her heart.

It had been the birthday of one of the SRR's agents, and after finishing time most of them had decided to celebrate at a bar. While practically all of the agents had been either playing cards half drunken or playing a drinking game fully drunken, Daniel and Peggy had been sipping their drinks together, sitting slightly away from the others.

The two of them had been talking a lot that evening, sitting close to each other and really getting to know the other. They had talked about their childhoods, he had told her about his three siblings, and she had told him everything she missed about England.

And it had been that evening that Peggy had realised that she may be feeling something more than just friendship for that man in front of her.

But of course she had ruined it all and everything had gone downhill. Why exactly, she couldn't quite tell. Perhaps it had been because of her fear of falling in love again, or because of her fear of losing someone dear to her again. Or perhaps it had been something else, she couldn't quite say.

Her gaze fell upon the phone that was standing on her desk, and for an instance she felt the urge to call him. To hear his voice, to have a conversation like the ones they used to have during their little breaks.

But quickly, she scrapped the idea and put down the receiver she had involuntarily picked up. It was already after ten o'clock in Los Angeles, and he was probably already in bed. And besides, she had already called him once two weeks ago, and once last week, but he hadn't returned any of her calls. For Peggy, this was a clear signal: he had moved on.

She couldn't reproach him, though, that he had decided to move on. After all that had happened...or more precisely not happened. No, she really couldn't have expected him to stay. Daniel Sousa was gone, and she had to get over it.

And I wonder if I ever cross your mind.

For me it happens all the time.

But despite her thoughts she couldn't help but wonder if after all, he still may be thinking about her once in a while. Because ever since the day she had come to know that he had accepted the offer, Daniel had never left her mind. Even though she had tried her best to distract herself.

It's a quarter after one.

I'm all alone and I need you now.

He had always taken care of her, and she had taken it for granted and had grown accustomed to it, not appreciating his efforts as she ought to have done. But now that he was gone, she realised how much he had grown on her, how much his absence actually hurt...and how much she actually needed him in her life.

And I don't know how I can do without

I just need you now.

~*~

Another shot of whiskey

Can't stop looking at the door.

Wishing you'd come sweeping in the way you did before.

With a sigh, Daniel rose his glass to his mouth and took another sip. This wasn't exactly how he had imagined himself to be spending his first Friday evening off. But here he was, sitting on a bar stool at the counter, deep in thoughts.

The past few weeks had been very busy, moving to L.A. and taking a new position, a leading position, as chief of the new branch of the SSR, which was why he had barely had time to sit down and catch a breath.

But this had turned out to be a good thing after all, because otherwise he wouldn't have been able to bear the thoughts that he had been pushing aside into the deepest parts of his mind.

He had left New York with mixed feelings three weeks ago. He was excited for the new chapter of his life that was starting, and he was proud that he had been offered such an important position. But there were certain things that he was leaving behind that he really was going to miss. Or more precisely a certain person.

Daniel's gaze had wandered towards the door, watching the people who were occasionally coming in and out the bar. Suddenly, the door swung open and a brunette woman entered the room, walking hand in hand with a tall blonde man who was wearing a hat. As she turned over to her companion, Daniel could see that she was wearing red lipstick and that her nails were painted red as well. The way she was leaning against the counter, laughing while the man was talking, painfully reminded Daniel of that certain someone he had tried his best not to think of.

Oh, how much he wished that it was Peggy who had swept into the room that very moment.

No, he couldn't deny it that she was the one thing he was terribly missing since his move. If there had been a slight possibility, a tiny little chance, that she may be feeling that certain connection he thought he had felt between them, he may have thought twice before taking the job.

But apparently it had been all in his head, apparently he had been hoping for something that just wasn't there.

Maybe Krzeminski had been right after all. No girl was going to trade in a red, white and blue shield for an aluminium crutch, he was never going to be good enough for her. They may have worked good as a team, they may have even been friends, but that was it. Nothing more.

And even though being her friend wasn't bad, he had to admit that it wasn't enough for him. He couldn't just be around her and be her friend, it was impossible. The pain was to much, and he couldn't simply turn off his heart and stop feeling what he felt.

So the only thing left to do was to move on and to forget her. But this was so much easier said than done.

And I wonder if I ever cross your mind.

For me it happens all the time.

Two weeks ago, though, she had called. When he had left New York, their demeanour towards each other had been very awkward and uptight, which is why he never would have expected to hear from her again.

And yet she had called the office, two times so far, wanting to speak to him. He had been on the way both of the times, which had spared him the pressure of actually having to pick up the receiver and talk to her.

He hadn't been able to bring himself to call her back yet. Yes, he missed her like crazy, even though he had always tried to disregard those feelings. But would talking to her really change anything? Change the way he felt? And what should he have said to her? Should he just have talked to her like nothing had happened? Like there wasn't a 2.500 mile distance between them?

No, he may be behaving like a coward by not getting in touch with her and not facing her, but it was the only possibility for him.

There was a little comfort for him, though, in knowing that since she had tried to call him, she must have not yet forgotten him completely.

It's a quarter after one.

I'm a little drunk and I need you now.

It was a terrible state he was in, torn between yearning for wanting Peggy in his life, his heart completely having fallen for her and at the same time knowing that if he didn't let go of her, he would be feeling miserable forever. And even though everything inside him was screaming no, he had to forget her and move on.

"Great job so far.", he murmured sarcastically and took the last sip of Whisky. Of course he had ordered the very thing Peggy would have chosen if they had been out together.

Feeling how the Whisky was showing its effect and was starting to addle his brain, he picked up his crutch and stood up. He had had enough for the night. With a last glance at the brunette and her companion, he straightened his shoulders and left the bar, disappearing into the dark.

And I don't know how I can do without

I just need you now.

#peggysous week 2021 #peggysous #daniel sousa #peggy carter #agent carter #need you now #my stories of peggysous

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theyungrose · 3 years

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Chrysanthemums and Daisies (Roman Reigns/Jey Uso X OC)

Chapter 5: Wifeys and Woosah

The weeks leading up to TLC came and went, and just like the big man had hoped, Roman and Chrysanthemum did meet up a couple of times in private. The first time was simple coincidence when they stopped at the same gas station to fill up before a drive; but the next few times were intentional. Since he was the main event most nights, Roman often found himself in her office after the show talking about whatever came to mind.

Chrysanthemum was wary of these link ups at first, knowing her little sister was bound to pop up and see her at any time. She was never one to knock. But Chrysanthemum soon found that whatever guy Daisy had fallen for (this time) had her wrapped up like a gift on Christmas. Most times she would see Daisy in passing if anything instead of her office.

She remembered those feelings of blissful oblivion fondly, as bad as her last relationship was, it wasn’t all fights and migraines. The first couple months it felt like true love, or the closest she’s ever got to it. Unfortunately in the end he’d turned to be just as terrible as the rest, and she found herself back in the alone but not lonely boat she was used to.

Secretly, she wished someone could show her the warmth it took to melt the ice around her heart.

“Earth to Chrysa... is football really that boring to girls?”

Chrysanthemum hadn’t realized she was zoning out of their conversation until Roman jokingly brought her back. Even though his cockiness irked her nerves some nights, admittedly she was starting to enjoy his bighead company.

“I thought we were talking about Kevin, when did we get to football?”

Roman chuckled rising from his seat on her couch and joining her on the edge of her desk.

“It doesn’t matter. Just know your champ will still be champ after Sunday. So you can rest your mind Ms. GM.”

He smiled down at her, using the short time she looked away to check her phone to admire her features. He found himself doing this way too often to still be professional, but it was quickly becoming something he couldn’t help. Sometimes he wondered if she even realized how gorgeous she was, like she didn’t even try.

He wondered how it took him so long to notice.

“I don’t worry about you that much Reigns, besides I know you’ll be fine. Owens doesn’t stand a chance.”

Her smile filled his body with serotonin, this woman would most definitely be the death of him. Then his phone rang, and as he checked the call on his watch, the effects quickly wore off. Chrysanthemum hadn’t let him see but she caught a glimpse of his watch too, and as he stood up to accept the call a double dose of reality struck the duo in the face.

His wife.

And just like that, her heart grew a little more colder.

Jey watched in awe as Daisy sat beside him, still as a statue in the mid-morning breeze. On this cloudy and slightly chilly Tuesday she had once again joined him at his house, somewhere she was growing increasingly comfortable. He could see the wonders that her presence was doing for him these past weeks; he was calmer, more engaged, even in the little things, and his cousin’s tyranny bothered him less and less. All thanks to her. Everything about her was peaceful, spiritual; like the breeze moving her curls across her face. Jey would’ve envied it if he wasn’t so in love with it.

Once again Jey tried to position himself like her, legs folded on top of each other with his palms facing upward on his lap. It had to be a superpower to be that still. Under his legs the grass scraped the bottom of his thighs and made him itchy, the wind on his neck made him shiver when he didn’t expect it; he was failing miserably at this whole meditation thing and it was starting to piss him off. Just a little.

“Is something supposed to happen? When do I start floating?”

Daisy broke her soft focus to giggle but she didn’t open her eyes or shift her position. She had felt everything he’d been doing in the past ten minutes, from his incessant moving to him just staring at her.

“Well nothing is going to happen if you don’t shhh.”

Jey groaned, choosing to give up on getting this mediating thing for the day and shifted his body so he was lying on his back with his head resting on her thigh. Daisy smiled again but still didn’t come out of her stillness.

In their many late-night calls Daisy had attributed much of her free spirit to meditation, she said it’d given her the ability to find solace in any situation no matter where she was. Her peace followed her wherever she went and she had complete control over it, which made her stronger than any woman Jey had ever known. It was like nothing or nobody could ever get to her, and he longed to be that grounded.

“I wish I could do this like you...”

A soft grin stretched Daisy’s features. The hand closest to Jey gently stroked the side of his face, he turned his head at the last second to kiss her palm.

“Think of meditation as a mental woosah. Stress and anxiety is your brains way of saying its sleepy, you have to let it rest and breathe every once in a while.”

Her green eyes finally fluttered open as she looked down at him, catching the softness in his brown ones as they gazed up at her.

“You’re my woosah, you know that?”

Jey sat up and cupped the side of her face, her skin was so soft. Slightly cold from the chilling breeze, but he hoped his hand would warm it up some. Heart rates rose as they found themselves lost in each other’s eyes, and somewhere in the swirl of the moment they leaned in and felt their lips touch for the very first time.

His full lips were slow and gentle as they moved in time with hers, stroking the heat in her belly to a blaze. The subtle softness of her lips drove Jey crazy as he tried to keep the passion of the moment without ruining it completely; it’d been a while since he kissed a woman as deeply as this, but he could tell from the way she was kissing him back he was doing exactly what she needed.

Jey shifted his weight so he could lay her back against the grass and felt a rush of blood run straight to his dick as her legs came up to cage his sides. Suddenly the itchiness of the grass or the coolness of the air didn’t seem to faze him any more, his focus too caught up in her delectable lips and the warmth her body surrounded him with.

*****

Otis Redding played softly in the background as Roman sat alone at an empty bar nursing a half glass of whiskey. As sad as it might’ve looked, the solace in Redding’s smooth voice was exactly what the Big Dog needed to hear. These used to be the times when Roman would turn to his cousins to vent and let off some steam with a good buzz, but it’d be silly to even assume Jey wanted anything to do with him right now.

The saddest part was, the one person he really wanted to see was only a couple floors above him. Eight to be exact, but he only knew that because he’d passed her getting ice from the hallway machine. She hadn’t spoke a word. They acknowledged each other of course, but the lack of- really any- emotion from her had been duly noted by the Chief.

He couldn’t blame her though, how on Earth could he? Where would he even begin to explain? The invasive entrance of COVID had left him quarantined at home for eight months, and what he’d thought would be a perfect opportunity to connect with his wife and growing family, had apparently done the opposite.It was as if they’d gotten used to him not being there. Roman wasn’t sure what had gone wrong, and it seemed neither did his wife, so they chose to ignore it. They allowed the elephant to stay and grow comfortable until it was nearly suffocating to sit in the room with it.

See he wasn’t trying to play Chrysa, and in all honestly he wasn’t trying to play his wife either. To be frank, Roman didn’t know what the hell he was doing. It was all so confusing, and while she didn’t fix it, being around Chrysa made it just a little bit easier.

“Do you want some company?”

The good Lord must’ve been tuned in to Roman’s thoughts, because just like that, she appeared behind him. Her voice brought him from the daze that was his thoughts, and he smiled genuinely as she took the empty stool beside him. She looked to be a little out of sorts herself, and even then she was still stunning.

There was a stretched silence between the two as the waiter bought Chrysanthemum a drink, her finger circled the rim a few times before she raised it to her lips. Admittedly she herself was trying not to think too much or else she might have to get up and leave before either of them spoke.

“Chrysanthemum...about what happened in your office...”

Roman wasn’t sure how else to start the conversation so he figured he get straight to it, but after those few words he wasn’t sure how to go on with his sentence. Luckily, he didn’t have to.

“Roman, as your boss I don’t need to hear the details of your personal life. That’s between you and your wife.”

Coldly professional. It stung a burning hole into his chest and Roman fought not to let it affect him as much as it did, or at least not let her realize it. Secretly, Chrysanthemum wished her statement hadn’t come out as cold as she’d said it, but you know what they say about words once you say them.

Another stretch of silence. If you were to walk in you’d assume the two of them were strangers. As Roman turned to get the money for his tab from his pocket, a petite line of red ink caught his attention from the side of Chrysanthemum’s rib cage.

“You speak Italian?”

Chrysanthemum, lost in her own thoughts, turned to Roman with a confused look until she followed his eyes to find what he was looking at. She sighed shaking her head as she took another long sip from her glass.

“No, my ex did though. It’s what his name means. Giovanni...a gift from God.”

She ended her statement with a dry scoff, the bitterness filling up the space in her throat. This time Chrysanthemum downed the rest of her drink in one gulp while Roman debated in his mind whether to press further.

“...What happened?”

Chrysanthemum bit down on her tongue to fight the tears she knew were coming, the anger and pain she still felt now too thick to swallow. She stared straight ahead at the liquor bottles behind the bar as she spoke.

“...he had a wife.”

Roman’s shock was written all over his face as she finally shifted her eyes to face him, and his expression would’ve made her laugh if she didn’t feel so pathetic. Not because of what she’d told him, because she knew she’d fallen for it twice.

*****

The night of TLC Chrysanthemum woke up with cramps that made her entire body weak. She spent the entire show laid out on her couch, but graciously her roster was able to manage themselves and put on an amazing Pay-Per-View for her brand, thanks in part to her top dog. Roman was in a no-nonsense type of mood all night and he made sure the other superstars followed suit.

And it goes without saying, he walked out of TLC still her Universal Champion.

The two hadn’t spoke more than a few words to each other since the last time they met, so he’d made it a mission to shower up after his match and go check on her. She’d left the door to her office unlocked so carefully he entered; Chrysanthemum barely had the strength to greet him.

“Close the door behind you please.”

Roman did as the lady asked and placed his championship on her desk, kneeling at her side. It was telling how much pain Chrysanthemum was in from her labored breathing and the way her eyes barely opened as they stared at the ceiling. Roman knew what it was like to feel so much pain it became impossible to move, and he wished he could take all of it away from her.

“How do you feel Chrysa?”

Chrysanthemum almost wanted to slap him for asking that question.

“Like I’m dying...”

She shuddered slightly as she spoke, and Roman felt his heart sink as she sucked in another sharp breath.

“Can you help me sit up please?”

With a gentle hand on her midsection and the other cupping the back of her head Roman slowly sat her up and rested her back against the couch cushion. At this point he’d already made his mind that he was taking her home. Looking around the room he caught glimpse of her coat and purse on a hanger.

“What are you doing?”

Chrysanthemum watched as he gathered all her things and placed them next to her.

“Putting your coat on... now lift your arm.”

A small smile graced her features as he dressed her much like you would a young child, until she remembered the basis of their last conversation at the bar and her mood quickly slipped back down to a zero.

“Thank you, but I think you should go now. I can do the rest by myself.”

To try and prove it to him Chrysanthemum pushed herself up to her feet, but she only stood for a few seconds before a sharp pain in her abdomen nearly took out her legs from under. Luckily, Roman was right there to catch her.

“My ass Chrysa. Let me just take you back to the hotel.”

Chrysanthemum could feel herself beginning to get frustrated, partially because Roman was as stubborn as he was big, but mostly in herself for appearing so weak in front of him. Feelings aside Roman was still her superstar and she was his boss, and the very last thing she needed was his kindness to be mistaken for something that obviously didn’t exist.

“Roman, go home. I’m not helpless I can take care of myself. Now leave.”

She knew better than to try standing again and risk looking silly in front of Roman again so instead she tried gathering all her stuff together, but as she did her brown irises began to water. Trying to appear strong only made her feel more weak, and soon she began to feel exactly what she was trying to convince she wasn’t. Helpless. The pain in her stomach was only intensifying the more she sat there fidgeting, and it wasn’t getting her anywhere.

He had already turned away from her to retrieve his championship when she finally swallowed enough of her pride to speak.

“Roman...”

She could sense his hesitation as he turned halfway to look at her.

“I need your help.”

Instantly he was back at her side. His hands came up to cup both sides of her face, noting how her eyes glossed over with pained tears. A rush of emotions crashed over him like a wave, and deep in those pools of brown honey he could hear everything she didn’t have the strength to tell him.

“Let me take care of you okay?”

Chrysanthemum nodded, letting her head fall forward so that her forehead rested atop his. Roman smiled stroking the side of her cheek with his thumb.

“You can trust me.”

Tag You’re It <3

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@saccreigns @fatedxdestiny @thewrestlingobsessor @bigpsychicbagelauthor @jasmine03322 @yeahalyssa @lustyromantic @reigns-5sos

#romanreignsfanfiction #romanreignsxocfanfiction #romanreignsfanfic #roman reigns x oc #romanreigns #joeanoaifanfiction #joeanoa'i x OC romanreigns x OC #joeanoai x oc #joe anoa'i #jey uso #jeyusofanfiction #jeyuso x oc #theusos #theusosfanfiction #wwe fanfiction #WWE

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jedimordsith · 3 years

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How do you deal with doubts as a writer? I am currently writing a fic but I keep wanting to restart because its not “perfect” or the way I hoped it would be. I hate restarting and I just want to finish it, but I’m so unhappy with where the story is right now. It’s really making me doubt myself and my capability of making a good story.

First off, please accept all the hugs. 🤗🤗🤗 It is crazy hard and super frustrating when fic doesn’t work the way you want.

I’m not sure how cohesive my thoughts are today, but I’m going to try to answer this as best I can.

1. Remember that there’s no such thing as perfection.

This sounds cliche, but it’s a hard (and inconvenient) fact. Language is inherently incomplete and fluid. To make matters worse, we all speak/write and consume it through the lens of our own understanding and experience. So it is physically impossible to produce anything that absolutely 100% conforms to our vision and is perceived the way we perceive by everyone else all the time.

While this can be cause for frustration, it can also prompt us to give ourselves the grace we both need and deserve as creators.

2. Blame the muse.

Have you seen Elizabeth Gilbert’s TED talk about muses? As someone who has written both under the influence of a muse and strictly via formula as “work,” I deeply hold to the idea that muses (a) are real, (b) can be fickle, and (c) cannot be rushed.

If something is fighting you, it may not be a reflection of you at all. Some stories have a life of their own and that’s okay. Viewing things through this lens doesn’t necessarily make it less frustrating when things don’t work, but it does make it easier to keep your head out of an angry, depressive, or doubting spiral when it happens.

3. Give it time.

I know you said you want to finish, and I empathize with that feeling. (So, so much. Really.) But sometimes fics need time to “ripen.” Especially if they are complex or near and dear to our hearts.

Case in point: Gift and DBW each took around 3 years to complete and even then neither is as good as it could have been.

If you can, maybe set the fic aside and work on something else. Or make a deal with yourself to finish a full draft and then set it aside. Make a list of things that aren’t working and then go do other things and let your subconscious chew on it. (I swear to the Force that this does work. Just be prepared to get whacked over the head out of the blue with ideas and solutions.)

Circle back around to the fic every month or every few months and see what happens. You may be surprised at the solutions that “magically” present themselves once you have a little distance!

4. Get a Duck (or a friend).

Are you familiar with Rubber Duck Debugging? Turns out the same process works for us writers!!

As a prime example, I struggled with a particular chunk of Oracle until I sat down and talked through the problem with sweet and patient @celinamarniss, who helpfully pointed out that I’d actually already written the solution into the fic... I just couldn’t see it. 🤯

[Full disclosure: I also talk to my dogs and my Artoo Detoo when I’m writing at weird times and don’t have a person to bug.]

A trusted friend or beta can do amazing things for changing our perspective and feelings about our fics and can be instrumental in getting them back on track when they derail!

5. Check in with the rest of your life.

This one is huge for me. I could literally write you a book on this point by itself.

Writing does not exist in a bubble. If you are tired, stressed, hungry, generally anxious, or overwhelmed, all of those feelings can glom onto your fic and make you feel far worse about it than is actually called for.

So take a step back, check in with yourself, and do some self-care. As a bonus, even if it isn’t the root of the problem, this will definitely set you up to better tackle fixing your fic!!

6. Recognize that the struggle is a sign of growth.

I am watching Haikyuu!! right now and there’s a series of episodes where my beloved Volleyball Idiots are a hot mess. Every member of the team is actively pushing outside his comfort zone, trying new things, and drilling skills. And guess what? They suck. Everything goes from pretty good to disaster. Catastrophe. Gloom, despair, and agony. Seriously.

But it’s temporary. More importantly, it’s a sign of growth. This is true in writing, too.

If you’re writing something that’s challenging you, it means you're at the top of your game and pushing the envelope, dude!! That is the opposite of sucking or being incapable!

I’m not gonna lie -- it can be a miserable feeling while you’re in the trenches, but it also means that if you stick with it, your story has the potential to be amazeballs.

[Further disclaimer: None of this is theoretical or idealistic. This list is legit what I do with my writing when I’m struggling, and it is what I know that other writers, both fanfic and pro, do when they struggle.]

Writing can be a brutal hobby. It can also be breathtakingly beautiful and rewarding. Don’t let the brutal rob you of the breathtaking. It will get better. I promise. ❤️

#writer problems #writer's life #writing advice #writing is hard #long post

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akitokihojo · 4 years

Text

Chasing the Seasons - Cruel Summer’s Epilogue

And there you have it, folks. I have literally no self control. :)

Have an epilogue almost half the length of the original story. Thanks for reading!

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It was hard. It was impossible not to think of each other throughout the entirety of every single, passing day.

Maybe it was a blessing, but within the week of returning from their trip, Kagome was thrown right back into the swing of things. She had to scramble to buy the two books she still needed - one she got lucky with, the other she had to purchase from an overpriced seller on eBay, get any other necessary items for the term ahead, make sure all registration was properly done, and get herself re-acclimated to a generally normal sleeping schedule. She stayed busy. Busy enough not to constantly wonder how Inuyasha was fairing. But, unfortunately, that never prevented her from incessantly checking her phone.

The habit came on quickly and was difficult to kill off. In her spare moments to breathe came her opportunities to light up the notifications page. Even in class, jotting down notes, listening to the professor drone on and on, Kagome just couldn’t stop herself from tapping her phone’s screen to see if she’d missed anything while her cellphone sat directly next to her notebook. There was nothing to expect, she was aware of this. She was forewarned of their unaligned schedules. She was aware they weren’t in a relationship. This was what they’d tried to prevent; the thick feeling of unintentional dejection that clung to the insides of their chests like tar.

Was it ironic that Kagome was still knocked down to her ass? No. She wasn’t sure irony was the right definition of this. The truth was, unknowingly so, she and Inuyasha had contradicted themselves from the start. It was all innocent in the moment, wanting to soak up every minute with your soulmate until you couldn’t anymore. Trying to make the best of a given situation. It made sense then. Hell, she even knew this was going to hurt when they had to part, but no one could have ever prepared her for the aftermath.

See, it wasn’t a relationship the two should have planned to avoid, even if it was for the sake of ease. The moment they connected with each other, they were set in stone. That’s not your typical, monogamous relationship. What Sango and Miroku had, what they’d worked to build - that was a relationship. They chose each other. But, fate chose Inuyasha for Kagome. That red string tied their souls together, one half fulfilling the other, so what they had was an irrevocable, irreversible, and irreplaceable bond. They had a companion. A partner. Yes, all synonym’s for a “relationship,” but vastly different in context. A relationship you could turn off. You could end it. You could do so by bitterly cutting ties, or mutually understanding things weren’t working. You couldn’t do that with a soulmate, though. Having a soulmate is the universe’s way of saying, “Hey, I made this person for you. They’re pretty and nice. You’ll like them, I promise. You’ll like them so much, you’ll literally never feel whole without them once you meet. It’s not a flaw in the design, trust me, I know what I’m doing.”

In other words, the distress they wanted so badly to avoid, the obligation they felt toward one another, it was all entirely inevitable. What they, instead, should have done was prepared their minds and bodies to have to adjust to the emptiness. Because, eventually it would dull. Eventually, it did dull. The ride to that point, though, was nothing short of crippling.

He wished he’d known exactly what to say when he’d discovered who she was, what she was bound to mean to him. He wished he’d understood the conflict in his argument and how he was so wrong. A part of him even wished they’d never met. Not yet, at least. Much like how he’d originally hoped she hadn’t dreamt of him so he could carry the burden alone and find her in the future. He was insane. Absolutely, confoundingly mental. Since when had he developed a glass heart? The moment he heard her laugh, saw her in that dress, spoke to her, felt the powerful pull toward her. That’s when. He’d say it was the moment they kissed, because logically, that was the exact moment it happened, but he had to be real with himself. If he’d turned away and ignored her presence from the start, there was still a part of him, a significantly smaller part but a part nonetheless, that would have felt lost. Lost was still better than broken, though.

Inuyasha had decided after the second week that he was going to pull away. In the moment, he understood the rationality behind it. It was to deaden the senses toward one another. It would make it easier in the long run. They’d grow used to the other hardly being there, they’d go about their lives, they’d get excited when one of them popped up on the other’s phone for a quick and friendly check in because it was so rare, then go about their business. Wash, rinse, repeat until the day they could properly reunite. It had to happen. He was miserable, and even though she wasn’t saying anything, he knew she was, too. That was after two weeks. Fourteen days without the other. He kept checking his phone, he was physically fighting the urge to call her, he was forcefully throwing himself into his work so he wouldn’t continuously consider dropping it all to run off with her before it was too late. So, it only made sense to cut the chord. This wouldn’t work if he didn’t. This would only drive them crazy and encourage the ache that lived in their chests to rampantly deepen as if it owned them.

Oh, was he so fucking wrong.

Everything worsened. So bad, he felt sick sometimes. He’d wake up at three in the morning with the heaviest sadness climbing the walls of his stomach and threatening to make him vomit. His lungs sometimes acted as if they couldn’t hold a full inhale of air anymore, and his exhales were shallow and dry. He was angry. Always angry. He had a short temper to begin with, but even he would catch himself on occasion and realize he needed to chill. His work was being affected negatively, his appetite was shot, sleep gradually became a thing of the past, and as the main turmoil seemed to dwindle after a while and he felt dull, listless, he became known as “cold” around his immediate peers. He detested himself. He could see it clearly, but it was so difficult to correct his demeanor when he didn’t have much ambition to do self work on top of his professional labor. He was becoming Sesshomaru.

He’d sunken. Deeper than his bitterness. He’d sunken so far, it was laughable. The answer was right in front of his face. Clear as day. This was his doing. He was the cause of his own misery. Why would he ever think creating a larger distance from her was a good idea? She wasn’t your average girl he had a nice conversation with and would eventually like to see again. She was a being literally born for his sake. And, he was born for hers.

Two months and four agonizing days later, and Inuyasha had finally come to his senses. He couldn’t continue this. He just couldn’t. What he’d done was essentially attempt to withdraw his soul from the match until it was suitable for him. He’d attempted to go against fate, and fate was giving him the hell he deserved. He could only hope Kagome didn’t feel the weight of his idiotic mistake, too. It was bad enough picturing her feeling alone in this, because it’s not like he was acting as much support, but imagining her crushed with withdrawal pain as well was just something he couldn’t live with.

Inuyasha could have texted. He could have called. He sat staring at his phone for hours, a murky liquid sloshing in his chest as if a clogged drain kept the remnants of this toxicity from leaving his body. Text messaging wouldn’t suffice. It would do nothing for him at this point. A phone call would be better; he’d at least be able to hear her voice. Still, it wasn’t good enough. The only thing that would be was seeing her beautiful features with his own eyes. He felt so horrible. Awful. He thought life’s plan would be his enemy, but truthfully, it was him. He was his enemy. This was his fault. And, if she didn’t answer, he deserved nothing less.

Kagome gently tapped her finger against a key on her keyboard, not quite pressing into it, just hitting her nail against the plastic square for the sound as she sorted out her thought process before typing out the next sentence of her report. Her laptop screen was split in two; one side her Word document, about eight hundred words into a three thousand word minimum assignment, and the other side her internet browser with multiple tabs open to fully cover the topic. Add to that with her iTunes playlist minimized in the corner and running through, and the open notebook at her side with her scribbled notes from her previous lectures in this class, and she was completely in the zone. So much so, that when her Mac started chiming with an incoming FaceTime call, her phone coming alive with the same, loud notification - that was really just overkill - Kagome jolted with a startled gasp.

Then her heart sunk into her abdomen. Both pleasantly and disturbingly. This was her first time hearing from Inuyasha in weeks, and her first time seeing him since she left for home.

Quickly, Kagome pulled her hair out of its messy bun, scrunching her unruly waves and running her fingers through her self-cut bangs. She could only hope her face was looking okay at the moment, because she really didn’t have much more time to make herself look presentable before she missed the call entirely. As she paused her music and answered, she held her breath, waiting for the connection to set. Inuyasha’s face appeared on her laptop screen, his mouth covered by the sides of his curled fingers that he’d comfortably rested against, but she could clearly see the corner of his lips curve and his cheeks slightly push up when he smiled at seeing her. And, she sighed out happily.

He was in a dimly-lit room, his chest bare and birthmark visible at the very bottom of the camera. His silver hair was hued with the temperature of the rosy lighting, one of the ears atop his head giving a tiny flick at the sound of her joyful giggle. God, she’d missed him.

“There you are.” He softly rumbled, amber eyes gazing at her with adoration, and he dropped his hand, his expression reading one of subtle relief.

“Hi.” Kagome whispered, too elated to speak clearly. “How are you?”

Inuyasha held up a finger with a soft hum to quiet her. “Give me a minute. Stand up.”

Wordlessly, Kagome scrunched her nose bemusedly, her smile hardly faltering.

“I need to make sure you’re in one piece. Stand up.” The hanyou said clearly, raising his brows expectingly.

She replied with a gentle laugh, rolling her desk chair back and standing up for him.

He took as much of her in as he could, as much as the camera allowed. Her long, black hair, her gorgeous face, her neck, her shoulders that were donned in a green, flannel shirt that was a little too large for her and hung to about mid-thigh, the black tank top underneath, the short pajama bottoms that hardly covered much but looked comfortable as all hell, the thighs he loved so goddamn much. She was there. Fuck, what he wouldn’t give to be able to physically feel her right now, to hold her.

When Kagome felt like he’d had enough, she sat back in her chair, pulling herself up close to her desk. “Good?”

“Good enough,” He said. “What are you doing? Are you busy?”

“No.” She fervently shook her head.

“Are you on your laptop or phone?”

“Laptop.”

“You’re doing homework, aren’t you?” Inuyasha chuckled, leaning his head to the side with a cock of his brow.

“Yes, but it’s not due until Friday. Don’t worry.” She quickly assured, not wanting him to think he was interrupting anything important. Of the classes she was currently registered in, this one ranked low in the difficulty aspect. The assignments were just tedious. Truthfully, even if it was important, she’d gladly push it aside for him.

He wasn’t going to try and argue against that. If she could talk, he was going to take it. This wasn’t the moment to be cautious, this was the moment to try and heal. “What time is it there?”

“A little passed eight. What about you? Are you in Europe?”

“Yeah. In London. It’s, uh, a little passed four here.”

“In the morning!?” Kagome pressed, inching slightly closer to her screen in exasperation.

He laughed, lazily running his fingers through his hair. “Yeah. Couldn’t sleep.”

“What time do you have to work?”

“Gotta be there by seven. Don’t waste your breath telling me to go to sleep, I’m not hanging up until I’m good and ready.” Inuyasha stated, leveling Kagome with a stare that brought her to close her mouth. He could tell by the way her brown eyes fluttered downward, by the way she lightly pinched her lips together, by the way she glanced back up to him that she was silently grateful for his refusal. It was warming, but it increased the guilt he felt, and he couldn’t prevent the way it wavered his expression.

She’d caught it. Immediately, she’d noticed. “What’s wrong?” Her tone was soft, concerned.

“Nothing.” He dismissed. “How are you doing?”

“Inuyasha, what’s -“

“How are you doing?” He’d asked it in a way that told her he wasn’t looking for the broad aspect of her life in general. He was looking for how she was handling their separation, the ember in his eyes not quite glowing to their full potential, and she knew it wasn’t just the camera’s inability to capture their radiance. Still, she couldn’t bring herself to answer the way he wanted. If she thought about it, it hurt too bad. She didn’t want him to know that; she didn’t want him to try and shoulder the burden for himself.

“Well,” Kagome began with her tale. “I’ve been pretty busy with school. My internship doesn’t start until January, though, so I’m trying to appreciate the little downtime that I have right now. And, my classes this term aren’t so bad, they’re -“

“How are you doing?” Inuyasha inquired again, the words enunciated slowly, his tone progressively deepening with care.

“Busy.” She answered steadily. “Staying busy.”

He knew she was intentionally avoiding a direct answer. That bad, huh?

“Tell me, Kagome.”

She swallowed thickly, a yank on her chest reminding her that she wasn’t all that okay. She missed him so much. So fucking much. How could she tell him that it hurt not talking to him? How could she apply that pressure on top of everything else he had going on right now? She just couldn’t. They knew this was coming, they knew they wouldn’t be totally available for each other, you just never know how bad it will feel until you’re experiencing it. She wasn’t allowed to expect anything from him, and she understood that, but being apart and not knowing when the gap will end created an emptiness that was indescribably difficult to manage.

The longer she let his question sit, though, the harder it became to keep her expression straight. She felt it before she could stop it, the crinkle of her brow and the frown on her lips, then her eyes began to burn with brimming tears and she swiftly leaned out of the frame of the FaceTime window.

He took a small opportunity to curse himself while she wasn’t looking, while she was busy guarding her tears from him; something she should never feel she had to do. “Come back.”

She hummed a no.

“Right now.” He ordered gently, his voice gruff.

“Don’t worry. I’m good.” Kagome laughed, seemingly at herself, the sound wet. The arm still in view moved as she sloppily wiped her face, still laughing, and when she sniffled, it even brought him to chuckle lightly as he rolled his eyes. “I’m fine.”

“Babe -“

“See.” She came back into the frame with a smile, her face red but cleared of tears. “I’m fine.”

Inuyasha bit his lip, his chuckle that time more on the dubious side. “I’m sorry.”

“What? Why?” She asked, her smile fading.

“Because, you’re not fine and this is because of me.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Shut up,” He shook his head to quiet her. “Just listen, okay? I really fucked up. I thought it would be best if I backed off so getting over the hump of this would be easier. I didn’t know where that would leave us, but I, for some stupid fucking reason, had convinced myself that it was necessary.”

“Did it help you? Feel better, at least?” Inuyasha could see the compassion in her eyes, in the way she worried her bottom lip, in the genuine tone she held.

“Not one bit. I’ve never felt worse, actually. I can’t do it. I can’t stay away from you.”

“Inuyasha, you have your career. It’s not wrong of you to try and detach from a stressful situation, because unfortunately, that’s what this is. There’s no way around that.” She stated directly.

“Stop trying to make me feel better.”

“Stop trying to blame yourself.”

“Stop trying to justify my actions for me, Kagome.”

“Stop trying to act like your actions were malicious. Unless they were?”

“No, of course -“

“Then, shut up.”

He blinked, surprised at the growing heat in her tone.

“It’s not that I’m trying to justify what you did, I just understand why you did it. I can’t be upset at you for that. In retrospect, it’s really not all that bad. You didn’t make a promise to me -“

“I made multiple.” Inuyasha argued, cutting her off. “I told you we’d still talk, I told you we’d still see each other.”

Kagome huffed, her exasperation rising. “I really, really don’t understand what you’re getting at here, Inuyasha. Why are you so upset with yourself when we left each other knowing this was going to suck? I certainly didn’t know what the right thing to do for us was. I still don’t! We have conflicting schedules and lives right now, and from the moment we found out we were soulmates, you warned me that this thing between us wasn’t going to immediately work out. So, why are you suddenly villainizing yourself? It’s like you want me to be mad at you!”

Inuyasha leaned his chin into his palm, his mouth covered by his fingers as his golden eyes drifted to stare at the surface his phone was placed upon. His heavy sigh was emphasized, but Kagome remained quiet, waiting him out, letting him gather his thoughts. When he was ready, her soulmate lowered his hand, but he never looked back at her, his expression almost communicating shame.

“I could have been doing more. That’s just it. I could have been doing more. I avoided more thinking it would help, and I avoided the bare minimum thinking it was right for the long run. I can’t stand the thought that your sadness is worse than what it has to be because of the route I took. So, yeah.” Inuyasha met her gaze. “Maybe you being mad at me is what I want, because I can fix that. Ultimately, I feel like I need to fix something. But, on top of that, I feel so fucking helpless and stuck, and like anything I choose to do is wrong.”

Kagome had figured out pretty early on that Inuyasha wasn’t the type to openly show his feelings. He was smooth, he was passionate, but he was subtle with his messages. And, early on, she realized she was the lucky one that got to experience this side of him. Especially now, she could see his guard lowering so she could fully understand what was going on in his head; something she felt, if she wasn’t his soulmate, she’d have to work very hard to see after a significant amount of time and a significant amount of trust was built. Inuyasha was, by nature, protective. And, she could tell he was hard on himself. So, when he feels like he failed to protect her from harm in any way, shape, or form, he’s going to jump to take the heat for it. When the blame is on him, he can compensate to rectify the situation, tend to your wounds, step up and do better, but that’s just not logical. If he continued to do that, he’d eventually run himself dry. Kagome understood what he was getting at with his decision, and yes, it hurt to a degree, but she still didn’t see him as a bad guy. It wasn’t his responsibility to make sure everything was okay. In fact, he had good intentions.

“How can I help you right now? Tell me what you need to hear.” Kagome said evenly.

Inuyasha pondered for a moment, eyes flickering away and meeting hers again when he spoke. “Tell me the truth about how you’re doing. Don’t duck out of view. Be straight with me.”

She could already feel her eyes prickling with fresh tears, her face heating uncomfortably as she honed in on the emotions she’d swallowed over and over and over and over throughout the months. “I’m sad.” Her voice trembled, but she took in a deep breath to give him what he needed. “I’m really sad. I feel helpless, I feel stupid, I feel tired. I’m lonely.” She finally began to cry, and it took active effort not to hide it from him, terrified he’d feel responsible. “I miss you. And, I’m angry. I’m angry that we have to go through this in the first place, and all I want to do is call you so I can listen to you talk - and I don’t even care what the topic is or if you’re not even talking to me, but someone else - I just want to hear your voice. I don’t like that you’re upset, and I want to take it away from you just as much as you want to take it away from me, and not being able to is frustrating. But, if you expect me to blame you for any of this, that’s where you’ll succeed in making me mad at you. I know for a fact you would never intentionally do anything to hurt me, and you can’t get me to picture you in that light. Do I like that you stepped back? No. Of course, not. But, honestly, I didn’t even know it was an option to have more of you, so no harm - no foul. You tried, it didn’t work, and now you’re here. So, now what? Where do you want to go from here? What’s our next step?”

Inuyasha had been holding his breath, clenching his jaw shut as he digested Kagome’s powerful sincerity. At least twice during her admittance he’d considered buying the first available plane ticket to her, even if that meant he could only be there for an hour. He spoke on a whim, uncaring of the irrationality behind it if that’s how it appeared. He wasn’t going to listen to her pain and do nothing about it when, now, to him, the answer was obvious.

“We ditch our original idea that things won’t work until we’re done with our shit. When I said that, we’d just had our first night together. It didn’t sound sane then to jump into anything when we were confused, new to each other, and freaked the fuck out. Even as you left, it made sense to hold onto the idea to wait, but it’s just not working. The pull on our souls to be together is too strong.”

Kagome hastily wiped her face using the sleeves of her shirt, sniffling in an attempt to clear her emotions. “Inuyasha, we can’t drop what we’ve worked for. Especially you. I won’t let you.”

“I’m not saying that. I’m saying we manage a long distance relationship. I’m going fucking crazy over here, Kagome. Fuck the boundaries, fuck the time difference, fuck anything that works against us. Why are we putting ourselves through this? God, it doesn’t fucking make sense! This is so stupid! If you want to call me, call me! I’m yours! If you’re lonely, let me keep you company the best way that I can! If I want to see that gorgeous smile of yours, I’m fucking going to! I’ll learn your schedule, and I’ll work through mine for you. I will never be too busy to tell you that I love you, it’s as simple as that. We’ll make this as easy as possible, I don’t want it overwhelming you with classes -“

“No, screw easy.” Kagome objected with a brusque shake of her head. “I don’t want easy, I want you.”

“So, yes?” Inuyasha breathed, and it was evident it held the release of a substantial amount of tension he’d been harboring with for far too long now.

“Yes.” Kagome laughed with relief, her shoulders dropping. “Did you think I’d actually say no?”

“I don’t know. It’d be pretty stupid of you if you did.” He joked, chuckling. Fuck, the sound of her giggle was like the most wonderful song he’d ever heard. “God, I wish I could kiss you right now.”

“Soon.” She whispered.

“Not soon enough.”

“Does this mean nothing has to hold us back from each other now? I can send you messages without worrying about bothering you, and -“

“Hey, woah, wait.” Inuyasha’s brows furrowed, a frown marring his face as he cocked his head to the side in question. “I told you not to hesitate before. You’d never bother me.”

“I know, but it was still kind of confusing. I just wanted to tread carefully. Especially since I wasn’t hearing from you, so sending you texts or pictures just didn’t seem appropriate.”

The hanyou dropped his head down to the table, the sound of the bang coming through loudly on the speakers, and his ears wilted slightly as he groaned dramatically. “You’re kidding me. How many pictures did I fucking miss out on!?”

“No! None!” Kagome frantically tried to dispel his aggravation, waving her hands before her even though he couldn’t look to see. “I’ve hardly taken any pictures, or looked remotely presentable to have anything to show off, I swear! It was just an example!”

“Fucking liar.” He grumbled.

“No, I’m not lying! See,” Kagome grabbed her phone from beside her, unlocking it with her thumbprint and opening the photos app. Inuyasha glanced up at her with a grimace, disdain for himself written all over his face, but she ignored it as she showed him the screen, mindlessly scrolling through while trying to see where she was at in the small window of herself on the FaceTime camera. “It’s all stupid screenshots I save for later or send to Sango. There’s a couple pictures of myself the day this term started, but those were for my mom because she collects first day of school pictures. Then, we’re back in summer vacation. And then, that’s all before we even met.”

“Hold it!” Inuyasha abruptly demanded. Kagome stopped scrolling, pulling back her phone to see what he was looking at. “Go back down.”

“Hm?” She questioned, putting the screen back up to him so he could guide how far back he wanted her to go as she slowly slid her finger along the glass of her phone.

“A little more. There. The blue shirt. Let me see that one.”

Again, Kagome glanced at her phone, selecting the image he was looking at as she felt her cheeks flush. It was just as the weather began warming up and she drove ten hours home to surprise her mom for her birthday. Rightfully, she’d done her makeup for the event, her hair, and wore a cute blouse that fell off her shoulders to reveal the few freckles littering her skin beneath. And, in the selfie she’d taken, she’d ruffled her loose curls further, the smile she wore was a little on the sultry side, and the light hit her chocolate eyes just right. With the hint of embarrassment, Kagome presented the picture to Inuyasha. His growing, crooked grin ignited a flurry within her stomach, the sensation quickly traveling through her chest and over the surface of her entire body.

“Send it to me.” He said huskily.

“What? You want this one?”

“Like that’s even a question. Send it over.”

Flattered, she complied, texting it to his number. His smile brightened, then his FaceTime screen paused as he picked up his phone from the table and clicked her text. Though she couldn’t see him anymore, she could still hear him, and his exhaled breath upon seeing her photo had her ready to melt into a puddle on the carpet beneath her seat.

Inuyasha released a tantalizing chuckle, whispering a hoarse, “Fuck.”

“What?” Kagome giggled, her embarrassment increasing and her face growing hot.

“Just -“ He paused. “Fuck, baby.”

“Come back.”

“Hang on, I’m setting this as your contact picture. That way, whenever you text or call, this picture will pop up, and if anyone looks over at my phone, they’ll have a good moment to envy me when they realize what my girlfriend looks like.”

“Inuyasha!” She laughed, slapping her hands to her cheeks to hide the maddening blush.

“Hey, and that’s just your face.”

“Stop!”

“Man, if they saw your ass -“

“Inuyasha! Oh my god!”

He popped back onto her screen, setting his phone back where it had been with the most satisfied and cocky expression.

“Send me one of you.” She said, shaking her head and laughing the humility off.

“I will. Later. Promise.”

“Are you feeling better now?” Kagome asked with a genuine tone, her smile unfaltering.

“Yes and no.” He answered honestly. “I’m not going to one hundred percent feel better until I’m back with you. But, at least I have you now.”

“You’ve had me all this time, Inuyasha. I would have waited for you for as long as you needed me to.” She swore she saw a tint of pink ripen his cheeks. “Are you going to try to at least sleep a little before work?”

“I don’t want to hang up yet.” He replied, his voice dying away with his empowering sincerity.

“I know you don’t need as much sleep as a human, but you still need some.”

“I’m not that tired.”

“Have you been sleeping well lately?”

“Why do you want me to hang up so bad?” Inuyasha chuckled lightly.

“I don’t. Not at all. I haven’t had my fill of you yet, either. But, I know you. When you get stuck in your head about something, you don’t sleep well. Now, there’s less to keep you up.” Kagome said, her tone as gentle as ever.

“You worry too much.” He dismissed with amusement. “Ten more minutes, then I’ll head to bed. Happy?”

He meant what he’d said as he spoke it, but it was impossible to remember the time as he continued to speak with her, made her laugh, witnessed her beautiful smile that had him smitten all over again. She helped him forget his grief from just moments before, she helped him feel like time hardly missed a beat with them. She told him she loved him before pushing him to go to sleep after a while, and his heart felt as if it sputtered elatedly.

From then on, they communicated as often as they possibly could. He memorized her schedule like the back of his hand the moment she’d graciously sent it to him, and if anything ever ended up changing, like a canceled class, a fever that kept her bed-ridden, or maybe she was staying out longer to get lunch or dinner with a friend, she’d never hesitate to tell him. Not so he knew not to bother her, because it wasn’t like that with them. Both of them were a wonderful priority to each other. He just liked knowing she was safe. He liked knowing when she was home and when she got home. There was literally only one part of her schedule he did not like, and he let it be known. Twice a week, she had to take a late class. It was with a small group, it was in a building on campus located far from the parking lot, and it got out at nine-forty-five in the evening. Meaning, twice a week, she was alone and vulnerable on a ten minute walk back to her car, then again at her apartment complex during the few minutes it took for her to get inside her place. She called him paranoid and he pridefully accepted it. He’d rather be labeled paranoid from his need to protect his girl than careless.

Since it wasn’t practical to even request for her to drop the class and see if it had a better timeframe next semester - especially given she was in her final year of college and the courses she had left were pretty much solidified - he had Kagome call him the moment she got out of class. She tried to argue that it was too late, or too early in his timezone, but he didn’t give a crap. He usually got up around six-thirty in the morning, five-thirty on the days he went to the gym. A five-fifty wakeup call wasn’t going to impede on anything, and it took him telling her over and over he’d stay up all night if it meant he got to make sure she was safe to get it through her head that the fight she was putting up was pointless.

Honestly, what better alarm than a call from Kagome? What stronger sense of productivity than to start his day by keeping his girl company as she ended hers. She had the audacity to call him with a normal voice call the first couple times around, but he quickly fixed that by swapping it over to FaceTime. As shadowed as she was in the night, he wanted to be there with her in the best way possible. He honestly didn’t like her being too distracted while she walked, but he couldn’t help but want to hear her talk. And, she’d let it accidentally slip one time that she was a sucker for the groggy voice he had early in the morning. Naturally, he’d milk that for all it was worth and tell her a little about his day prior. As soon as she’d reach her car, he’d remind her to check the backseats; which she really didn’t need to be reminded to do. Nine times out of ten, she was already doing it to make sure no one had broken in. Then, he’d stay on the line with her for the fifteen minutes it took her to drive home and find parking in her complex, and by the time she was inside her apartment, he was usually sipping the last of his morning coffee. On a good occasion, Kagome would walk into a madhouse and secretly flip the camera around to sneak in glimpses of her best friend frantically attempting to work on last minute assignments due by midnight while she was strung on ramen noodles and late night espresso shots she really shouldn’t be allowed. The hardest part was swallowing his laughter until Kagome was safely shut inside her room. And, the sweetest part came when she’d give him this cute as shit nose scrunch as she smiled and told him to have a good day while eagerly awaiting his cheesy, cliche, timezone-inhibited reply of, “Get some sleep. I love you.”

Her midterms were hard on her, and he tried to support her through them the best he could, but her finals of the first semester were proving to test her limits. She was busier than ever with studying and assignments, she was exhausted, and a couple times she’d called him having a minor breakdown just because she knew he’d be able to talk her down and get her back to thinking semi-rationally. It was common in overworked and drained minds to be hard on yourself, he knew as well as anyone else. With their schedules at their most hectic yet, him heading meetings and really grinding down on a shit place his company acquired, texts weren’t often seen until hours later. Calls were always answered because he knew that if she was calling, with their plates being as full as they were, it was serious, but texts were unfortunately unanswered until both of them were home and had a small moment to breathe. That’s when things began to really weigh on them again. It went unspoken. On both ends. But, if he could feel the stress of not being able to even say he loved her while she was awake, if he could feel the torture of missing her even more than he already had before, he knew she could, too.

With the utmost amount of tenderness, Inuyasha began to put together a surprise care package with as many things he thought she’d enjoy that would fit in the box. She was in the midst of her exams, he knew, but given she’d been able to get a couple out of the way already, she was bound for the remainder the following week, and then she was heading home for Christmas break, he wanted to get this out to her as soon as possible. He was just missing one major component.

As he returned to his loft at the end of his long day, he texted Kagome to see if she was busy, and within the minute she responded saying she wasn’t. Stealing the opportunity, Inuyasha FaceTimed her, the call swiftly answered with the usual chime of the video connection. A laugh rose from his throat that he couldn’t swallow in time. The camera was angled downward on what he assumed was her laptop, exposing Kagome blinking sleepily as she laid stomach-down on the purple comforter of her bed, an arm rested beneath her temple as a pillow and a tired smile appearing on her lips.

“You just said you weren’t busy.” Inuyasha said, loosening the tie around his collar.

“I’m not.” Kagome giggled. “As you can see, I’m clearly doing nothing.”

“You’re napping.”

“I was simply resting my eyes.” She coolly stated, her brown eyes fluttering closed for a small moment.

“Were you studying?” Inuyasha chuckled, removing the tie entirely and unbuttoning the top buttons of his shirt with his free hand, finally feeling a little more comfortable.

“No, I was working on an essay. But, then the words started to blur together, and nothing made sense anymore, and next thing I knew, I was laying down.”

“Move the camera, I can’t see your whole face.” Without missing a beat, Kagome used her non-pillow hand to scoot her laptop a little to the left. God, even as spent as she was, she still looked breathtaking. Inuyasha smiled, sitting down on the couch and taking her in while she seemed so peaceful. “Perfect. You’re so beautiful.”

“Shut up.” She grumbled playfully. “Did you just get home?”

“Yeah. Before I forget to ask, can you do me a favor?”

“Only if you talk in your British accent.”

“That was a one time deal, dummy.”

“Again.” Her tone was cute, and her nose scrunched in the manner that usually suckered him into anything. She even pushed herself to prop up her chin so she looked more awake, adjusting the camera accordingly, her elbow sinking into the thick blanket beneath her.

“I was drunk when I agreed to it in the first place.” He feebly attempted to argue, rolling his amber eyes.

“Take a shot!” Kagome encouraged.

“I’m not doing it.” He chuckled.

“Please?”

“Nope.”

“Please?” She pushed on with her adorable voice, making it smaller, dragging out the word.

Inuyasha sucked in an inhale, flexing his jaw in an attempt to resist her. With every ounce of willpower her had, he shook his head to tell her no, exhaling his strain and smiling as he slid his tongue over his canine tooth. With a defeated huff and a pout, Kagome gave in.

“Fine. What do you want?” She asked teasingly.

“Your address.”

“Hm? You don’t have that?”

“I’ve never needed it before.” He laughed, the evidence of her groggy brain coming through.

“Oh?” She piqued, cocking a sly brow. “And, what would you happen to need it for now?”

“I’ve got something for you.”

“A Christmas present?”

“No. Your Christmas gift will be sent separately. This is just a gift.”

“What is it?” Kagome asked excitedly.

“None of your business.” He chuckled. “Send me your address.”

“So bossy.” She joked, grabbing her phone from beside her computer and sending him what he’d requested.

“Got it. Thanks, babe. You can go back to sleep now.”

“Wait, no. Don’t go yet.” Her eyes had grown larger, almost pleading, and Inuyasha had to wonder if she could ever give him an expression he wasn’t utterly weak for. “Unless you’re busy, then I totally understand.”

“There’s nothing I’d rather do right now than stay on the phone with you, baby.” He grinned, his heart thundering as she beamed brightly and pushed herself to sit up for him.

Kagome came home from her final exam of the semester - of the year, really, considering when they returned from break, it’d be after New Years - feeling pumped for finally having everything out of the way while simultaneously ready for the longest nap of her life. All she needed to do was proofread her very last paper and press submit by tomorrow, and she was ready to head home for Christmas.

She’d stopped at Starbucks for a celebratory peppermint cappuccino, in light of the holiday, grabbing one for Sango while she was at it, because the poor girl was still knee deep in two of her remaining projects. As she entered their apartment, her best friend popped out from the little kitchen entry, clearly not intending to scare the shit out of her, but doing so in her powerful excitement.

“Hi! You got a package in the mail!” Sango shouted, a packet of spaghetti noodles held in her grip.

Kagome clutched her chest over her heart with her free hand, lucky she didn’t drop the carrier of their hot drinks all over the place in her terror. “How many?”

“Noodles? I don’t know, I mean I’ve never tried to count -“

“Espresso shots!”

“Oh. Oh! I don’t want to talk about it.” Sango swiftly dismissed, grimacing.

“How many!?”

“Enough to give an elderly man a heart attack, that’s for sure.”

“Oh, I’m gonna kill Miroku for getting you that thing.” Kagome seethed, finally recovering and dropping her bag by the tiny dining room table.

“Is that a coffee for me I see?” Sango sang, dancing her way over to her best friend.

Kagome groaned, taking her drink out of the carrier and begrudgingly handing it to the over-caffeinated girl. “A mistake.”

“Thanks, friend!” She squeaked. “Open your package, I want to see what’s in it! I saw a familiar name written on top!” Again, she was singing, more so to be teasing this time but Kagome only laughed.

“Did you mean, mine?”

“No! Oh my god, it’s on the coffee table.”

Kagome’s attention turned, noticing for the first time a decently-sized, brown box waiting for her in the living room. Sauntering over, she looked at the labels, Inuyasha’s name and return address sitting in the upper-left corner. Truthfully, she’d forgotten to expect anything from him, the thought of a gift pushed to the back of her mind by her insane schedule.

She flicked up the packing tape with her nails, peeling it from the top and opening the package to reveal several things waiting for her inside. She grabbed for the shirt folded nicely and crammed on the side. At first glance, it seemed large and comfy, but then when she turned it over to see the band name on front, she realized it was one of his favorite, old shirts he’d worn while they were together. Instantly, she pursed out her bottom lip in adoration, hugging it close.

“Wait, there’s a letter!” Sango pointed gleefully, sipping her coffee as she watched Kagome open her gift.

Kagome gently placed the shirt over the rim of the box, grabbing for the folded paper to open it and see a little letter written in her love’s handwriting.

A couple notes as you open this:

– Snacks for your downtime.

– A new heating pad for your cramps since I fucking KNOW you haven’t gotten rid of that shitty one yet.

– Vanilla body spray from a little shop out here, because I know you like that scent. And, I like it on you.

– Two of my shirts. They smell like me. Wear them to bed and I’ll be right there with you. Send me pictures in them, too. I mean it.

– Chapstick, because you go through that shit like crazy. It’s the kind you like, don’t freak out.

– The last one is self explanatory. Open it. Put it on. Tap it three times.

Kagome had to resist hugging the piece of notebook paper to her chest, wanting to hold the sweet gesture as close to her as possible but refusing to crinkle the page. She gently placed it on the table, moving the shirt she’d already looked at to the side and grabbing for the other one. It was another band tee, a little less worn than the other but his homing scent radiating from it and bringing tears to prickle at her eyes. She bunched beneath her nose, really taking it in while she fought to hold her composure, too happy for words.

Finally setting it aside, she reached for the cute bottle of body spray, taking a little whiff of the perfume that smelled so sweet before setting it down and reaching for the little packet of chapstick, giggling along with Sango. He’d sent over a package of chocolate chip cookies, and two bags of chips she’d never had before but she was excited to try tonight, having already planned on putting on a movie and vegging out. The new heating pad made her laugh again, the box in pristine condition. Then, lastly, a small, blue and purple, gradient-blurred box sat alone in the package, the image of two wrist bands posted on the front.

Kagome carefully opened it, greeted with a black bracelet of sorts as she removed it completely from the packaging, the top of it harboring a small, oval widget.

“What is it?” Sango asked.

“I don’t know. He told me to put it on and tap it three times.” Kagome shrugged, handing it to Sango so she could strap it securely around her left wrist. As it was fastened, Kagome went ahead and tapped her finger to the face of the device, watching a thin strip of blue light illuminate over the surface she touched.

It was hardly thirty seconds later that her phone began to ring, Inuyasha’s contact picture filling the screen. Shocked and joyous, Kagome lunged to answer her phone.

“Hi!”

“You got it.” He hummed, the soft sound of chatter and passing cars filtering through in the background.

“How’d you know?”

“Still haven’t figured it out yet?” At her lack of an answer, Inuyasha chuckled. “Okay, are you wearing it?”

“Yeah.”

Three slow vibrations tickled the part of her wrist beneath the oval device, a purple light shining with each sensation. Kagome’s jaw dropped with her breathy gasp, pure bliss written all over her face. “Oh my god, was that you!?”

“Yup.” He laughed.

“You tapped it three times!?”

“Yup.”

“It’s like I can feel you!” She was so happy, so absolutely euphoric to receive some form of touch from her soulmate, her tummy fluttering wildly and body enticingly warm. There was no fighting the tears that flooded her eyes, her heart so wonderfully full.

“Are you crying?” He chuckled as she sniffled.

“Shut up!” She laughed. “I love it all so much! Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

“You’re welcome, baby. This way, whenever we miss each other but are too busy to talk, we can just give this thing a few taps and we’ll literally feel it. Especially, since you’ll be starting your internship next month. This thing’s really gonna come in handy.”

Kagome gave out a pouty whimper, grabbing his shirts and curling up on the couch to hold them close. “I just love you so much. Thank you.” She playfully whined.

“I love you, too.” He laughed.

“I can’t believe you gave me your favorite shirt.”

“I can’t believe you’re about to send me a ton of pictures in it.” He countered, his tone completely serious.

“With or without pants?”

“Slut.” Sango joked, walking away and downing her hot beverage.

“What do you think?”

“With or without a bra?”

“Fuck.” He whispered, taken. It was a thin, white shirt. If she wore it well and wore it right, he might be able to catch a glimpse of something he was sorely aching for.

“Got it.” She teasingly said. “Are you out and about right now? It’s kind of late there, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, I’m at a bar with some friends. Stepped outside to call you.”

“Are you having fun?”

“Not as much fun as I’d be having with you.”

“Go back inside,” Kagome giggled. “Thank you, again.”

“You’re welcome.” He breathed, content.

“Let me know when you get home safe, please.”

“I will.”

“British accent?”

“Not drunk enough.” Inuyasha laughed.

“Dang it! Okay, love you. Bye.”

“Love you.”

Winter break was relaxing and necessary for a reset, and whenever Inuyasha wanted to text, call, or FaceTime, she was available for him. Their bracelets didn’t get much use then, but Kagome still refused to take it off unless it needed to charge. Once she got back into the swing of school for her very last term, was introduced to her internship and the responsibility she held, was thoroughly buried in homework she struggled to catch up on during her off days, that’s when they came through.

If she ever tapped it, he was incredibly fast to respond with touches of his own, as if he was right there for support. She adored him. He was so amazing. He was so kindhearted and good. Her favorite time to receive those sensations from him were late at night, sometimes while she was dozing. There was nothing better than being woken by sweet vibrations from the love of her life who was just getting started on his own routine on his side of the world. He woke up thinking about her, and there was no better feeling. And, if she was ever looking for a little excuse to hear his voice, she’d send him three taps in the dead of night. The best time was between two and three in the morning. The first time she’d done it, she’d come out of a nightmare. As soon as she’d opened her eyes in the darkness of her bedroom, she’d immediately forgotten the happenings of which, but she was still awake, still slightly shaken, and still looking for a smidge of comfort. She tapped three times, he tapped back, and she sank into her bedding happily. But, then her phone started chiming with a FaceTime call from him. She reached up, flicking on the lamp on her bedside table and answered, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He asked, donned in his business attire and sitting at a desk, the look of concern etched on his face.

“Hm?” Her voice was rusty but small, the vaguest, confused grimace on her lips.

“Why are you awake?” He chuckled, slightly recovering.

“I had a bad dream.” Kagome pouted. “I just wanted to touch you. Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” His grin was tender. “I was worried something had happened. Are you okay now?”

“I’m okay, I promise.”

“Go back to sleep, baby. I’m right here if you need anything.”

God, it was so serene to hear that. And, she lapped it up, realizing that he’d reach out to see that she was fine if he noticed she was up at an off time. She was often awake super late working on assignments, or studying when a test was approaching. Only a couple times had she actually gone out with friends - which he was typically aware of. But, if it had been a little while since she’d last done it - because, he’d catch on if she did it too often - she’d send him some sensations, waiting for her own in reply, and then her phone would light up with a call from him to check on her.

Around spring break, blessed spring break, she was packing up to head home again. She was just two weeks away from completing her four month internship, and her wonderful, gracious, brilliant supervisor arranged it so she could work them when spring break ended, so she could see her family for the allotted time off. Her younger brother was interviewing for a couple of colleges, utilizing their grandfather’s connections to their fullest capacities, and her mom thought it would be a good idea to make it an entire family outing. As far as she knew, they were going to Connecticut, and though she wasn’t sure what all there was to do out there, she was still just looking forward to the event.

Inuyasha rolled his golden eyes as his brother droned on and on, hoping the motion wasn’t too obvious behind the restaurant menu. The idiot literally flew him out for a lunch meeting. A lunch meeting. The U.K. to Chicago for a lunch meeting. Maybe this was a glimpse at his future when he took partnership at the company, maybe this was intended to be purposeful toward his increasing leadership roles, or maybe Sesshomaru made it a hobby to waste peoples’ time. Honestly, he was willing to bank on the first suggestion, and even the second - his spite just sprouted the third, but it was hard to tell with his non-communicative brother. Everything was basically just left up to surprise.

Only once in the last fifteen minutes had he been addressed, and everything else Sesshomaru discussed had basically nothing to do with him, nor was it information anyone at the table would necessarily deem valuable. After the redeye flight he’d sat on, the dull walkthrough of the facility Sesshomaru was currently whipping into shape, and the headache Jaken was causing just by existing, all Inuyasha wanted was a fat lunch to make it all worth it. Also, he’d pay someone to tell his brother that not every update needed to be a fucking meeting.

Knowing they were still ages away from ordering anything more than water, Inuyasha propped his cheek in his palm, glancing out the window he sat next to. His golden eyes mindlessly swept over passing people, the charming, cobblestone street a good home for boutiques and cafe’s to attract attention. Older women wore smiles as they chatted with their companions, men walked hand-in-hand with their partners, young girls filtered into shops, and Kagome’s bright grin as she picked on the guy next to her even managed to clear the annoyed frown from his face.

His heart stopped. Kagome? What the fuck?

There was an exhilarating jolt that coursed through his body, his heart remembering it’s purpose and pumping powerfully against his ribcage as he studied the girl as best as he could from where he sat. Was it her? Long, black hair, slim figure, kind of short - he’d groan loudly if he could have from his building agitation. These were all general factors of identification. He needed to see her face or hear her voice.

Turn around. Turn the fuck around.

And, as if she sensed his need, she twirled around as they continued on, her smile as beautiful as ever in the dress she donned as she spoke with the elderly man behind her, walking backward to keep up. It was her.

It was Kagome.

As calmly as he possibly could, which was a feat on its own, he whispered into his brother’s ear that he needed to check in on something with his own facility. Work-related meant there was a good chance Sesshomaru wouldn’t gripe. His brother gave him an empty stare, and Inuyasha pressed that it was important, to which Sesshomaru gave a nod of approval and momentarily dismissed him to slip outside. The second his foot was out the door, the hanyou bolted, chasing after that sweet scent of hers that he could pinpoint anywhere. They couldn’t have gotten too far, she had an old geezer on her tail. Still, the further down the road he got, the more narrow and crowded the street became.

A huge part of him couldn’t even believe they were so close to one another right now. It was hard to digest; hard to understand that this was real. His heart was pounding, his stomach was in a violent flurry, his fingers were shaking with a debilitating need to grab onto her and never let go. His eyes scoured the area, looking for his girl, his love, his soulmate. If he ever met fate, he was going to punch that fucker in the throat and then thank her for the opportunity - because, as kind as she seemed to be, she was still a petty ass bitch for putting them through this.

Free from the claustrophobic street and coming into a large, open, touristy square, he spotted her from behind a good ways ahead. Without thinking, unable to stop himself even if he tried, he shouted her name, his lungs pumping air fervently as the anticipation for her to see him knocked the wind from his diaphragm.

Hearing a thunderous bellow of her name, Kagome abruptly stopped walking, startled while a frenzy of flutters erupted in her abdomen. She spun around, searching the area for the voice, the call, her mom asking what was wrong beside her but she couldn’t answer.

Her breathing stopped, her heart sputtered, her body heated, and the biggest surprise overtook her when she spotted Inuyasha where they’d come from at the far end of the square. She didn’t even pause to process. Kagome ran to him, sprinted, enveloped in ecstasy when she saw him running toward her, too.

He’d braced to catch her and she threw herself into his arms, her own encircling his neck as he squeezed her tight, spinning her around once before setting her toes back to the ground.

“Oh my god, what are you doing here!?” She cried, unwilling to let go yet.

“I flew out for a meeting; I’m just here until tonight!” Inuyasha replied, holding her so tight his body curved protectively around hers.

“I didn’t know you were coming!”

“I didn’t want to mention it! It was last minute, and it’d be like salt in the wound! I thought you were in Connecticut, anyway!”

“No, I had it wrong!” She laughed, more from the overwhelming happiness than anything else. They finally let go of each other, but Inuyasha cradled her jaw with his hands, keeping her to him, and Kagome held onto his forearms, tightening her grip to attempt and still her trembling fingers. “His Connecticut interview is on a different date. This was apparently a Chicago interview trip all along.”

“You dummy.” He laughed, pulling her in for the kiss of a lifetime.

He breathed her in, holding her close, his shoulders curling over her as she whimpered beautifully into the breathtaking kiss. It heated him thoroughly, making him feel whole for the first time since August.

“I swear,” She sighed as they broke apart, but he interrupted her with another kiss. “I texted -“ Another kiss, this time accompanied with a tiny growl to shut her up. It only made her giggle. “You.”

“I haven’t been able to check my phone. I’m so sorry.” He murmured breathlessly, pressing his forehead to hers.

“I just can’t believe you’re here!” She squealed, bouncing to hug him again.

“Fuck, baby. I’ve missed you so goddamn much.” He laughed, engulfed in sheer bliss. “Was that your family I saw you with?”

“Yeah.” Kagome smiled, allowing him to let go, though their hands quickly sought the other’s out, fingers pleasantly entwined for a sense of completeness.

“I’d like to meet them.” He said with a quick peck to her cheek before gesturing for her to lead him over. She was giddy, practically skipping as she guided him through the square to where her mother, grandfather, and brother waited; two of which looking more confused than anything while the awaiting woman seemed nothing less than sweetly content.

“I’ve never seen my daughter run to anyone so fast in my life. You must be Inuyasha.” Kagome’s mother chuckled, the sound smooth.

“I am. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He greeted kindly, holding out his hand for her to shake.

“Inuyasha, this is my mom, my grandpa, and my brother, Sota.” Kagome said.

Her younger brother held a grimace of bemusement, and she rolled her eyes, her head lolling to the side in mild exasperation.

“My boyfriend.” She clarified.

“Oh!” Sota’s expression cleared, like a lightbulb literally flickered on over his head. “Cool. The sweet-talker.”

“Oh my god.” Kagome mumbled, tucking her embarrassment behind Inuyasha’s arm as he laughed.

“Uh, yeah. That’s me.” The hanyou agreed with a smug grin, shrugging. It wasn’t a lie; he knew the level of his own game.

“Yeah, my sister never shuts up about you. How do you turn it off?” Sota sarcastically asked.

Kagome’s jaw dropped in shock and Inuyasha pinched his lips together to stifle his laugh. A look of humored fear struck her younger brother as she narrowed her eyes, silently mouthing the words, “I’m gonna fucking hit you.”

“It’s nice to meet you, boy.” The old man greeted, interrupting the siblings and taking Inuyasha’s hand to shake. “It’s a wonderment to see proof that the concept of soulmates still exists in this era.”

“I can’t agree more.” He nodded earnestly, squeezing Kagome’s hand as he still held it.

“If my son were still here, he’d damn the whole thing and insist on giving you a hard time to make sure you deserved Kagome.”

“I guess you’ll have to do it for him then. I’d happily take the challenge.”

“Shit, you are a sweet-talker.” Sota murmured, casually ducking behind their mother when Kagome sent him an incredulous glare to shut his mouth.

“I like to hear that.” Her grandfather stated.

“Are you here on business?” Her mother asked in reference to his professional attire, dressed to the nines thanks to Sesshomaru’s need to be uncomfortable, her genuine smile never having once faded.

“I am. Yes. I saw you all passing by the window of the restaurant we were having a meeting in. I couldn’t stop myself from running out.”

“What?” Kagome gasped. “You were currently in the meeting you were flown out for? And, you just ditched it!?”

“Don’t worry!” He laughed, giving her hand another comforting squeeze. “I told Sesshomaru I had to take a work call, so he thinks I’m on the phone.”

“Your brother was in the meeting, too!? How much longer can you pull this off before he grows suspicious!?”

Inuyasha pulled the cellphone from the pocket of his slacks, his humored expression deadpanning as he noticed a recent text from Sesshomaru telling him to wrap up the call so they could get on with business. He shifted an apologetic frown toward Kagome, pressing a long squeeze to her palm.

“Thought so.” She compassionately smiled.

“I’m sorry.” Came his whisper.

“Mama, I’m gonna walk him back, okay?”

“No, you don’t -“

“Alright, dear. We won’t go far.” Her mother beamed, waving a goodbye.

“It was so nice to finally meet you all.” Inuyasha politely said before turning around, dragging his soulmate off with him.

She hugged his arm close, the body heat of hers radiating through his suit. They didn’t say much on their walk back, which he intentionally took at a leisurely pace. It was a moment to respect; to savor. He wanted to memorize the prints of her fingertips that held his hand, every ridge and line of her skin engraved into his own. He wanted to absorb every ounce of warmth she had to offer, and be privileged to remember the exact rhythm that her lungs worked at. And, when they neared the restaurant, he physically felt the wrenching sputter of her heart, and though he knew it was from ache, he wanted to remember that, too. Because, it was for him. Because, she loved him. Because, she didn’t want say goodbye or any variation of the word. Because, it helped him realize that he was truly the luckiest bastard in existence.

Inuyasha turned around to face her, his hands instantly cradling her jaw and threading through her soft hair. “I’m sorry this was so short. I’m so sorry, Kagome.”

“Stop. Are you kidding me?” She lightly giggled. “I didn’t think I’d get to see you until you finished up in Europe. Even if this was short, I’m so happy right now.”

“You promise?” He asked for his own reassurance, pressing his forehead to hers.

“Pinky promise.”

Inuyasha curved her chin up in his grasp, kissing her deeply, taking every last bit of her in as he could. Her taste, her scent, the feel of her body pressed against his, everything.

“Get in there, business man.” She breathed, gently rubbing the tip of her nose against his.

“I love you.”

“I love you so much.” Kagome placed one last, sweet kiss to his lips before giving him an encouraging nudge in the direction of the door. “See you later.”

“Tap twice to let me know you’re back safe with your family.”

“I will. Go.”

“Wait, one more.” He laughed, reaching for Kagome and pulling her in for a final, hungry kiss. She melted in his grasp, sighing delightfully, fucking with his mental stability. “Now I’ll go.” He rumbled sedately.

Composing himself, Inuyasha calmly entered the restaurant, crossing to the side his meeting was held on and taking his seat at the window with an apologetic look for the inconvenience. He was glad Sesshomaru didn’t ask questions; for once grateful for the general look of disinterest his brother’s face had seemed to be stuck in for as long as he could remember.

Three slow sensations tickled his left wrist and Inuyasha reflexively went to give them back, stopping himself as he looked out the window. Across the street, Kagome stood in her floral dress, the breeze blowing gorgeous strands of dark hair into her face. With a warm smile, she bit her lip, tucking her hair behind her ear before waving to him. A grin grew on his face, one he knew wasn’t subtle at all but who the fuck was he to care? That was his girl, his Kagome. Without removing his eyes, Inuyasha tapped his device three times, watching her brown eyes flutter down to see it illuminate and then smile even wider before gifting him with one last glance, and walking away.

From that point on, things were easy. Easier. It was still hard to be apart, but the sense that everything was going to be perfectly fine settled any nerves that had the tendency to get aggravated. Kagome’s schedule gradually cleared as she finished her internship and locked away the experience under her belt, and her classes weren’t as strenuous as the end of the school year approached. She was freaking out a little to try and lock down a job after graduation, as any graduate would be, but calming her down had become a simple task for Inuyasha. Frankly, he wasn’t worried about a damn thing anymore. He wanted Kagome to experience that level of tranquility, too. Everything was bound to fall in line for them from this point on, within their relationship and out, and if it didn’t happen organically, Inuyasha would personally see to fixing it, himself.

Interestingly enough, a plan was set in motion. A chain began to form, unbeknownst to both of them. Until he received a call from a number he didn’t recognize. On a whim, he answered, surprised to hear the soothing voice of Kagome’s mother on the other end; apparently having had Sango play the in-between intelligence that stole his number from Kagome’s phone. With the simple question she presented, the offer on the table, the hanyou cleared his schedule with no debate necessary. His answer was an immediate, “I’ll be there.”

Kagome stood with her graduating friends, waiting for the call that directed them all to get in line in the respectful categories of their majors, donned in celebratory dresses - and button-ups for the guys - beneath their gowns, caps held in their hands until absolutely necessary to put them on and ruin their hair. All of them were proud, joyful, excited, and albeit slightly nervous. Of course, as the ever so reliable one of the group, Sango pulled through with a small - and easily concealable - bottle of tequila. All of them pretended to be surprised that she would pull this stunt, but it would be a lie if anyone would expect anything less of her. Especially on such a jubilant day. Everyone took a straight swig from the bottle, passing it along to the next person until the circle was complete and everyone felt a little more pumped and prepared to cross the stage and wrap up their college career.

After the ceremony, the cheers, the jumps for joy, and the loud pops of confetti that damn near gave everyone a heart attack, students filtered out into the the courtyards to find their families. Kagome was dragged to the side with Sango and Miroku to wait, shadowed by trees in the large lawn dozens of students spaciously inhabited. Multiple times, Kagome felt she should try to find her family, worried they’d gotten lost in the crowd and maybe wandered to a different courtyard, which wasn’t difficult to do at her large school, but Sango insisted she stay put and just wait, claiming she was worrying too much. All she could do was constantly check the phone in her hand to make sure she didn’t somehow miss any notifications from her mom or younger brother.

Moments later, the warm voice of her mom called her name and Kagome beamed with happiness, running to hug her mother, hoping she’d succeeded in making her proud with her accomplishment. Her brother hugged her next, and then her grandfather kissed her cheek, all of them rosy in the face from smiling too much.

“Who’s the stud?” Sango flirtatiously asked, waltzing up to casually join the group and nudging her arm.

Kagome looked at her curiously, then followed the path of her eyes when Sango notched her chin to her left. Against a tree not too far away, a handsome man with short, silver hair leaned, an infamous, crooked grin adorning his face while his arms were nonchalantly crossed in front of his chest. He wore dark jeans with a light, untucked, button-up shirt, dressy enough for the occasion while still maintaining comfort.

“Oh my god!” She cried, carelessly dropping the things in her hands into Sango’s grasp and running over to her cunning boyfriend. “You’re here! You’re here!”

Inuyasha met her halfway, stealing her into a tight embrace as she still bounced on her feet, too excited for stillness, laughing.

��When did you get here!? I FaceTimed you this morning!”

“I know, I was bunkered in your room at your mom’s house.”

“You were at my mom’s!?” Kagome pulled away, completely taken aback.

“It was her idea for me to surprise you.” The hanyou couldn’t bite back his amusement, chuckling and ecstatic that they’d pulled it off without an inkling of suspicion.

Kagome spun around, pinning her best friend with an audacious stare. “You knew, didn’t you!?”

“Of course, I knew! I played a roll in getting him out here!” Sango laughed.

“And, I just knew because that’s my right.” Miroku added, throwing his arm over Sango’s shoulders.

Kagome, too grateful for words and hoping her smile showed all the thanks she could possibly give, spun back around to Inuyasha, hopping back into a hug and robbing a kiss from him. “I can’t believe you’re here! Did you watch?”

“From start to finish. I’m so proud of you!”

“How long are you here for!?”

“Two days. You’ve got me for two days, baby.” Inuyasha squeezed her tight, pulling apart so he could kiss her on the forehead.

Sango and Miroku had parted to find their own families, and Inuyasha and Kagome enjoyed a night out to dinner with her own, celebrating her achievement before she headed back to her own apartment, rightfully dragging Inuyasha home with her.

They were merely in the hallway outside of her apartment before it hit them like a freight train, maddening desire catching up with them after months and months. Their lips had crashed into each other’s, their kiss heated and loving and mind numbingly hot. She was stumbling backward to get to her front door while Inuyasha held firmly around her waist, the two of them actively refusing to part until they absolutely had to - which just so happened to be when she dropped her keys while trying to unlock the door with one hand.

They both laughed, wonderfully flustered, and though he let her go so she could reach for the lanyard that held her keys, Inuyasha took residence behind her, his fingers gripping her hips and pinning his body to hers. His job was to make it difficult for her to get anything done, because in his eyes, he wouldn’t be doing it right if she could concentrate through his ministrations. Lips grazed over the tender flesh of her neck, his searing breath trailing over tended to spots and making her quiver where she stood. Kagome’s fingers were fumbling over keys, and he just fucking knew his girl was biting her lip to keep from making a peep.

God, he was so hard already, ready to fuck her over and over. And, over. And, over. And, if she asked nicely, one more time. He had so much pent up frustration for her to take in, and sleep was for the wicked. Her neck tasted so good, her reactions - stifled as they may be - made him feel borderline feral.

Finally, Kagome unlocked her door, throwing it open and spinning around to claim Inuyasha’s mouth and pull him through, allowing him to shut and lock the bolt.

“Sango?” He murmured into her kiss.

“Not home.” She breathed.

“Sure?”

“She’s smart. She’s not home.”

“Oh? Yeah?” His husky tone piqued in ruttish interest, one of his hands coursing through her hair to snag blissfully at the back. “You already knew what was gonna happen, baby? My little slut.”

Kagome could only reply in a moan, gripping the front of his shirt as she tried to guide him to her bedroom without tripping. She’d left her cap and gown in her car, leaving her donned only in the new dress she’d gotten just for the occasion. It was form-fitting, hugging every curve of hers beautifully, accentuating her perfect tits, her grabbable ass, the straps thin and the hem ending above mid-thigh. Through the door of her bedroom, he wasted no time in locating the zipper, dragging it down her back to release the dress’s enviable grasp on her. The straps fell from her shoulders easily, and Inuyasha gladly dragged them over her arms, flawlessly pushing the dress down her chest, her waist, her hips, and to the floor where she stepped out of it and kicked her flats off. Her breasts were concealed by a strapless bra, and after she eagerly undid his shirt and shoved it off of him, he yanked the useless delicate down to reveal the gorgeous and tempting sight of her hardened nipples. Inuyasha’s mouth instantly claimed one, not bothering to take his time. He was needy for her. Too much time played a cushion between them and he needed the fervent reminder of what she tasted like, how she felt while she laid helplessly beneath him as he fucked her, the erotic sounds she made when he hit just the right spot that made her clutch the bedding and arch her back.

Inuyasha pulled her to follow him as he sat on the edge of the mattress, sucking and using his tongue to flick her nipple within his mouth. Without instigation, she straddled his lap, allowing him to do whatever he wanted, and he rewarded her by grabbing her ass and maneuvering her to grind against his erection. His jeans hindered the sensation he craved, but the way she trembled told him how much she loved it all.

Easily, he unhooked the bra still wrapped beneath her supple breasts, unable to remove the wretched thing fast enough, and switched to pay attention to her neglected nipple. His hands made home on her ass, massaging, giving a little spank, but mindful to be frugal in how often he allowed her to grind into him. He’d stop her if she tried to do it herself, and just to show her he was in charge, he would sometimes only move her in simple, light motions that gave her limited satisfaction. The pleading whimper she made was music to his ears, and he gave a taunting chuckle in response each time. If only she knew he was just getting started with her.

“You miss me, baby?” He whispered hoarsely. Kagome whined, almost gasping as he littered steaming kisses over her chest. “No, no. I asked you a question. Answer it.”

“Yes.” She replied breathlessly. “I missed you so much.”

“Good girl. I missed you, too. All those pictures you send me almost make me lose my mind. I was so fucking close to buying a ticket to see you when you sent me the ones of you touching yourself. You know the ones?” Another keen, breathy and voiceless as he nipped her ribcage lightly. “Answer me.”

“Yes.” She sighed at the exact moment he ground her against him.

“The ones where I know what you’re doing, but I don’t get to see anything. Not a fucking thing. You’re such a little tease, you know that?”

That time, Kagome gave a satisfied and sultry giggle, licking her lips in response.

“Oh, you do? You’re a little too proud of yourself there, baby girl. You like driving me crazy?” His voice was deep, throaty, driving her wild and Kagome could barely manage a pout while she nodded that time.

“You wanted me to buy that ticket to you, didn’t you?”

Another nod, her teeth biting down on her lower lip as he pushed his hand between her pussy and his pelvis, dragging his fingers over her lace panties to taunt her as she created the respected space to allow him, again, to do whatever the hell he wanted to her.

“All so I could fuck you?” That time he whispered, feeling his hot breath bounce off her soft skin. “Is that what you want? You want me to fuck you?”

“Please.”

“Oh, come on now. You can do better than that.”

“Inuyasha.” She trembled, her hips bucking mildly when he applied a little more pressure to her core.

“Do it.”

“Please.”

“Fucking beg me.”

“Please.”

“Give me more, baby.”

“I want you so bad.” She whined, her fingernails raking over his shoulders.

“I know you do.” Inuyasha gently pushed her to stand, following closely, one of his hands going into her hair to softly grip while his other undid his jeans, all the while leading her backwards toward the far wall. “But, that’s not what I asked. You need to beg me for this cock.”

“Please. Please, I want it so bad. I’m begging you. I’ve missed you so much. I need you.” The plead was almost too genuine, each waver to her tone like a lick of fire to his flesh, and he smiled arrogantly, tightening his grip on her hair and pulling her in for a feverish kiss.

He pinned her to the wall, pressing his body against hers, feeling the way her chest rose and fell with each heavy sigh. In his devotion to make sure she was going to get everything from him, including a refreshment course on how powerfully he worshipped her body, he steadily dropped to his knees, kissing down along the way. To drag those wanton breaths from her lungs, he place scalding kiss after kiss over the cloth of her panties, teasing her before giving in with a content chuckle. After pulling them down her gorgeous legs, Inuyasha licked his lips, propping one of her thighs over his shoulder as he set to his delectable feast. Fuck, she tasted so ungodly delicious, bringing a deep groan to rumble from his throat. He alternated between flattening his tongue to drag it over her entire pussy and playing with her clit with the very tip, and when her legs quickly began to tense and wobble, he wondered just how much she’d be able to take. He held her thighs, taking a deep lap with his tongue and then sucking on her clit, swallowing her juices. In the sexiest voice, the most desperate moan he’d heard from her yet, Kagome cursed, her hand gripping at his silver hair.

“Fuck, baby. Please.” She rasped, trying to pull him up.

Like a sucker, he complied, drowning her in a deep kiss while his hand curved around her throat. Kagome’s adventurous hands scraped down his bare sides, blindly making sure he’d undone his pants before finding the band of his boxers and reaching through to pull out his cock. Her palm was hot and he was throbbing. Using one hand brought a groan from his throat, and as she incorporated a second one, he couldn’t prevent himself from rolling into her grip, captivated by her mind numbing touch.

Inuyasha pushed her hands away, taking the liberty to curl her arms around the back of his neck as he leaned down, picking her up by the thighs and pushing her solidly against the wall for support. Without missing a beat, he gingerly pushed inside of her, hissing an unrestrained, “Shit!” Her legs wrapped around his hips, his girl ready to take him all in, and the sight of her mouth hanging open from the blissful intrusion had him going mad.

He moved his palms upward, gripping her ass as he began to thrust into her. It almost felt like it had during their first time together; so lost in each other it was impossible to stop. So enraptured, so taken that it would be debilitating to hold back. He could see Kagome losing herself, keening, grasping him tighter as her head dropped to his shoulder. Fuck, she was already shaking, enjoying herself too much, and it brought a wicked grin to Inuyasha’s face.

“You like that?” He teased.

“Harder.” She shockingly answered, lightly digging her nails into the back of his shoulders.

He had an unhinged need to give her exactly what she wanted. She was light in Inuyasha’s arms, easy to move, easy to manipulate, easy to fuck, but for better grounding, he further trapped her placement against the wall, their gasping mouths just centimeters apart as he thrusted deeper into her with nearly-bruising force.

“That what you want?”

“God, yes.” Kagome mewled, allowing her head to rest against the wall, a sinful smile growing on her face.

Inuyasha lavished her open neck and throat with adoring kisses, nips, licks, and sucks, intentionally leaving his mark. She was his. He wanted Kagome covered in his hickies, he wanted her smothered in his scent, he wanted the world to know that fate didn’t have to play a part in their union; Inuyasha would have willingly chosen Kagome time and time again.

Feeling the searing and overwhelming pleasure of her pussy claiming him, he pulled away from the wall the smallest amount; enough to give him room to play. He moved her hips, bouncing her on his dick as if she were the one fucking him, absorbed in the way her entire body responded. She was trembling, her voice broken, her legs squeezing him harder, her teeth gnawing at her bottom lip, and as she sucked in a shivering breath to hold, Inuyasha claimed her mouth, kissing her as she came on his cock.

Her legs were unstable, wobbly, but he set her down anyway, encouraging her to wrap her arms around his waist so he could support her as he guided her over to the bed, languid kisses peppered as they went. As they reached the mattress, Inuyasha smiled into his kiss, spinning her around and pushing her to bend over the edge of it. Kagome’d caught herself on her hands, temptingly biting her lip as she glanced over her shoulder at him before crawling further onto the bed to brace on her knees as well. Inuyasha shoved his pants and boxers down a littler further so they were out of the way, giving his cock a couple of jerks as he observed the tantalizing sight before him. Daringly, Inuyasha smacked her ass, his eyes rolling back ecstatically when she gifted him with a sensual sigh.

He spit into his hand, lubricating his cock before kneeling onto the mattress behind her and pushing inside, filling her whole. His pace started slow, but it was too simple. Kagome wanted more and she was willing to take it on her own, moving herself back and forth to match his rhythm and push him deeper inside of her. Altogether, Inuyasha stopped, allowing her to do as she pleased for a moment because the way her ass bounced against his hips was just too sexy to ignore. But, when she seemed to be thoroughly pleasing herself, he reached for her waist, anchoring himself as he pushed so hard into her that they both groaned loudly. She’d almost lost her balance, her hands clambering forward to clutch her comforter and support herself. Muscles engaged in her back, accentuating the curve of her spine, and Inuyasha felt a dangerous heat bubbling inside of him.

He’d completely admit that he’d lost himself to her in that moment, absolutely captivated by the way her body contorted, bounced, flexed, and ultimately welcomed his aggressive thrusts with how hard, how deep he fucked his girl. Reaching forward, Inuyasha safely gripped her hair, supporting her waist with his free arm as her scooped her torso up to meet his, the angle a little different while her hands grasped the forearm he held around her front, and her moans took on a pitchy effect.

“Play with yourself.” He ordered in her ear, releasing her to fold over completely with zero hesitation to do as he said.

He’d anchored himself by gripping her hips, enraptured by the beautiful expressions displayed on his soulmate’s face while she rested the side of it against the blanket, one of her hands tightly clutching the bedding by her shoulder while the other had glided between her thighs, massaging her clit. The way her breathing increased, her body responding to the ample stimulation, it was sending him spiraling, clenched curse words slipping off his tongue like they were the only hope of remaining grounded for however long it took to force Kagome to succumb with him.

“Come on, baby. Come on.” He gently coaxed, her squirming testing his willpower.

“Don’t - don’t stop!” She begged, muffling her voice with the comforter while she continued to vigorously rub herself.

Fuck, those words were like a fire hazard, building the heat that was already threatening to burn him down. Inuyasha clenched his jaw shut, grunting as he forced himself to maintain everything exactly as it was so as not to throw her off. What this goddess wanted, she got, and if she told him not to stop, especially in that desirable, whimpering manner, then obey he would.

“A l-little harder, please.”

Son of a bitch, she was going to be the death of him. The politeness, the submissive way she requested what she needed to reach climax had Inuyasha soaring, his fingers gripping harder so as not to reveal that they’d tremble against her supple flesh if he didn’t. That didn’t prevent him from bequeathing an ounce more of fervency to get her closer, closer, the enchanting sound of skin slapping skin all he could focus on until she rolled her hips in an irrepressible reaction to the orgasm fervidly overtaking her, the shuddering gasp she released proving to be the absolute end of his discipline. With just a few more powerful bucks of his hips, Inuyasha pulled out in time to cum on her back, biting back curses as his core went taut.

Sleep was for the wicked. So he said. Inuyasha had cleaned Kagome up, taken care of her after to make sure she was okay, gotten her water from the fridge while she was in the bathroom, and the moment their heads hit the pillows, they were sedated, lethargic, yet so greatly inclined to resist the pull of sleep. Kagome laid in his arms, eyes closed but still conscious, still whispering little stories to him that made him laugh. His bottom arm was loosely curled around her, but he earnestly tended to her with his other, stroking her hair, her cheek, her shoulder, massaging her temple to relax her, satiating his own desire to softly stroke her bottom lip with his thumb. It was a moment he wanted burned into his memory for as long as he lived. How easy it was to worship her, to love her, to respect her and cherish the light that she offered by just being. How simple it felt to just exist with her in such an insignificant moment that still meant the world to them both. It almost hurt, how much he adored Kagome. It was a pain he gladly accepted, though. It was a pain that reminded him he was alive, fortunate. It was a good pain. It made him question who he’d ever be without her, and then it made him immediately squash the thought as he silently swore he’d never let a living soul hurt this woman. Ever. He’d give his life for hers without a second thought.

What didn’t seem to hurt so much anymore, though, was parting. Goodbye was always bittersweet, but the both of them also felt complacent. The hard part was gone and passed. Had been for a little while. And, four months later, their path was reaching an alignment.

He’d succeeded. Inuyasha was finally receiving his promotion in his father’s company, attaining his share of the partnership. It was a huge weight off his shoulders, and a moment he couldn’t help but hope his late father would be proud of.

This also meant he was coming home.

The moment Sesshomaru and he finished speaking about the upcoming changes and their next course of action, Inuyasha purchased a ticket for a flight home for the following week. The call to inform Kagome was nerve-spiking, because he anxiously awaited her excited reaction. He anxiously awaited closing the gap and ending the remainder of their madness. And, she didn’t fall through. God, when her voice got so high pitched because she just couldn’t contain herself, it brought the dumbest grin to his face.

Momentarily, she’d been staying with her mom, the job she was currently working lackluster and only a means of experience for the time being. Not too long ago, Inuyasha presented the idea of them finding a place together whenever he got back - which would involve her relocating to a different state and leaving her job - and he’d be a fucking liar if he said he wasn’t nervous as all hell that she’d decline. It was a big move for them, but one neither of them could neglect to acknowledge would eventually happen no matter what. Considering the incredibly obvious circumstances. To his surprise, she’d enthusiastically agreed.

As unsure as everything was, no apartment to come home to but a hotel to stay in until they found a place of their own, the couple was just too happy to care about the details. Finding an apartment would be a simple task, anyway, since money wasn’t a thing to worry about in Inuyasha’s book. Kagome packed her things and got to their new city a few days ahead of him, and though he watched her roll her eyes time and time again over their FaceTime call, her boyfriend actively refused to allow her to stay in a hotel that looked remotely shoddy. They were looking online together before she’d left, but he proved to be resolute in his decision, deciding on one he’d approved of and booking it for her with his own card. Oh, he got an earful for that since she felt it wasn’t fair he was paying for it, but he took it all with an arrogant smile. This was his way of taking care of her. Kagome could protest all she wanted; it was done and set in stone, and Inuyasha felt no inking of regret.

She’d caught a taxi from her hotel to the airport, practically bouncing in her seat the entire ride there, which escalated into a vibrating anticipation as they sought out the terminal he’d be landing in. Kagome was so giddy, so excited that she felt like she was high, her chest weightless and fingers slightly shaky from the overabundance of endorphins flowing through her system. Inuyasha’s flight was scheduled to land by ten-thirty that evening, but surprisingly the airport still had a good amount of foot traffic within. It was physically impossible to fight off her body’s reaction to bob from foot-to-foot while she stood idly in the waiting area, but it was all she could do to stay put when people started flowing out, a nearby, electronic board stating his flight had landed moments ago. Taking her cue, Kagome unrolled the small-sized poster paper in her hands, “Cujo” written on the front of it in bold, decorative handwriting. She’d warned him she’d do this if he continued to make fun of her the other night, the two of them having too much fun joking around, but he clearly thought she was full of it. The moment his silver hair came into view, though, ember eyes staring down at his phone, the hanyou donned in jeans, a loose tee, and a hoodie, Kagome just couldn’t contain herself. The paper loosely rolled back up on its own in her hand as she dropped it with the other, squealing loudly and sprinting over to her boyfriend. Inuyasha glanced up, a bright smile appearing on his face as he opened his arms and caught her when she jumped into his hold, her legs wrapping around his waist and body hugging him as firmly as she could.

“Hi!” He greeted, holding her securely and laughing.

“I missed you!” Kagome squeezed him tighter, too happy to let go yet.

“You have no idea, babe.”

She leaned back in his arms, just enough to kiss him, smiling gleefully as she peppered his lips in affection over and over. “Welcome home.”

He was hot, happy. Thankful. Licking his lips to welcome her taste when she pulled back to smile at him.

“What’s the sign say?” He smirked, letting her know he hadn’t missed the fact that she was carrying a poster. Kagome laughed, unfurling it to show him, and he groaned with feigned annoyance. Inuyasha hiked her up in his arms, easily tossing her over his shoulder as she yelped and laughed even harder, supporting her upper body with her hands braced on his back. “Where’s the fucking trashcan? I’m throwing your ass away.”

“Inuyasha, no!” She pleaded meekly in the midsts of her giggle fit.

| Cruel Summer |

#I literally started this thinking it would be 5k words tops #and Nikki literally called me out and said YEAH OKAY #hahahahaha help me #inuyasha #kagome #kagome higurashi #inukag #inuyasha fanfiction #inuyasha fanfic #inuyasha fic #inukag fanfiction #InuKag fanfic #InuKag fic #soulmate au #cruel summer #chasing the seasons #akitokihojo #smut #lemon

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