#I had to leave a party an hour in because I had a panic attack about how much noise there was. me. miss loudness herself

[hobisexually]

x

[girlgenius1111]

all of my past i tried to erase it

part 3 of family line tensions are still high between Ingrid and her sister. Mapi tries to keep the peace. Solstråle tries to pretend she's fine. Ingrid tries to pretend she isn't going insane not understanding what is going on. cw: mentions of poor mental health / panic attacks. ingrid is pretty worried about solstråle and whether or not she is safe.

-------

It wasn’t really anyone’s fault. Mapi bringing her parents to the match shouldn’t have gotten to you the way it did. You didn’t really have an explanation for it, either. You saw Ingrid talking to Mapi’s mom and it felt like everything that had gotten marginally better in the last few days had miraculously disappeared. 

You were 8 again, sitting in the office at school, fielding pitying looks from the office ladies. Both of your parents were busy watching one of Ingrid’s matches; at just 16, she was playing for Rosenborg. Your mom was supposed to bring you to watch, too. She’d forgotten. 

You were 10 again, lying to the school nurse that your parents hadn’t known you’d hurt your hand. She said it looked broken, and you pretended that you hadn’t asked your mom to take you to the doctor the night before. You pretended your mom hadn’t told you to stop faking injuries when the attention wasn’t on you for one minute. 

You were 13 again, sobbing into your pillow, while everyone celebrated just down the hall. Ingrid was leaving to play in Lillestrøm. 5 hours away. She was leaving you behind. 

You were 16, having just been dumped by your first girlfriend. You’d come home in tears, and when you told your dad what was wrong, he told you it was for the best, that a girlfriend was just a distraction. He warned you not to bother your sister with this, because she was busy with much more important things in Barcelona. 

You were 17, so drunk you could barely speak, walking home on a dark road in the middle of the night because neither of your parents had answered the phone to come and get you from the horrific party you already regretted attending. It was dark, a windy road you were walking along, and if a car came, you weren’t sure your reflexes would be quick enough. You were 17, stumbling over the smooth pavement, the depression you’d been trying to drown in alcohol making a reappearance. You were 17,  thinking that maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if it all ended there, just like this. 

You were 17, standing in the airport with your parents, preparing to board the plane to Spain. You leaned in towards your mother for a hug. She avoided it, pinching your cheek lightly, and reminding your father that they had a dinner reservation to get to. You watched them walk out of the airport from your place in the security line. Your vision was blurred with tears, but you still could tell that they didn’t look back at you once. You were 17, and your mom hadn’t told you she loved you before you moved across the continent. 

In a second, all of these memories that you’d fought so hard to keep locked away deep inside your head were flooding out. Tears were pricking your eyes, and you cursed yourself for being so stupid. Ingrid didn’t care. Mapi didn’t care. You weren’t worth caring about. How had you forgotten that? How had you let yourself forget that, after everything? 

Ingrid didn’t see your expression change, too busy thanking Mapi’s parents profusely for coming to see her play. Mapi did, though. She watched as you caught sight of your sister talking to her mom, and she watched as you flinched like someone had swung at you.  She watched as you slipped out of the crowd, speed walking into the building. Mapi was torn in 2 directions, Ingrid on one side, and you running off the other way. You needed Ingrid, most definitely but Mapi didn’t like the look on your face as you ran off, like all of the emotion had been sucked out of you, and all that was left was exhaustion. 

Someone else had noticed your disappearing act, though. Caro stood, staring after you, before her gaze fell to Mapi, raising an eyebrow. The defender nodded, and Caro followed after you, while Mapi turned to her girlfriend. She pulled her away from her parents with an apologetic smile, appreciating that Alexia walked over and picked up the conversation where it had left off. 

“Ingrid, vamos,” Mapi whispered urgently. Ingrid looked at her, confused and unmoving. 

“What? I was in the middle of a conversation, María,” the Norwegian scolded. 

“I know, it’s your Solstråle, though, she’s upset, come on,” Mapi insisted, pulling on Ingrid’s hand, who finally seemed to feel a sense of urgency, and let Mapi lead her into the building. 

“Upset? Why? Did something happen?” 

“She saw you with my mom and just looked really upset.” Mapi explained. A bit of understanding washed over Ingrid’s face, and now she was the one leading her girlfriend, rushing down the hall and beginning to open door after door in search of you. 

Caro, meanwhile, had found you pretty easily. You were on the floor of a room she often came to when she was overwhelmed, although that happened much less these days. You knew Caro, obviously, and she knew you, had known you since you were pretty young. She had a calming presence, and the minute she sat next to you, and extended her hand in your direction, you took it gratefully. 

“Mapi is bringing Ingrid.” She told you, but didn’t say anything else. She just sat next to your trembling form and held your hand.  It was enough for now, enough until your sister arrived. 

And when Ingrid did arrive, it was with a loud bang as she threw the door open, sighing in relief at the sight of you. Though, that relief quickly dissolved back into worry at the state you were in. She quickly took Caro’s place at your side, hesitantly wrapping an arm around your shoulders. Your sister was surprised when you turned and threw your arms around her neck, crying silently into her shirt. 

“Jeg har deg, kjære. Det er greit, du er ok.” She murmured, looking worriedly at the other two women hovering in the doorway of the room. Mapi nodded at her encouragingly, and Ingrid refocused, rubbing a hand slowly up and down your back. 

“Thank you,” Mapi muttered to Caro, as they both stepped into the hall to give you some space. 

“Of course.” Caro said easily. “She having a hard time?” 

“Which one?” Mapi asked wryly. “Yes. It’s… it’s a work in progress.” 

“She’s a good kid.” Caro noted, Mapi nodding her head in agreement. “Well, Marta and I are around if either of you need anything.” 

“Thank you, Caro. Really.” Mapi said, squeezing the forward’s shoulder. Caro just shrugged like it was no big deal, and headed back out to the pitch. When Mapi reentered the room, you were tucked perfectly into Ingrid’s lap, although you seemed to have calmed down some. Ingrid was speaking to you in hushed Norwegian, and something she said had you lurching away from her and to your feet, stumbling blindly to the door. 

“Solstråle, wait,” Ingrid called, not really sure what she said to upset you, but well aware that it had been something. You fell right into Mapi’s arms, and though she looked a little startled, she easily pulled you close. 

“Okay, it’s alright. We’re all okay.” She murmured, noticing the rather heartbroken expression on her girlfriend’s face at the fact that you had fled from her right into Mapi’s arms. After a few minutes, you said something quietly that neither girl could hear. “What was that, nena?”

“Can we go ho- back to the house?” You asked, correcting yourself quickly, and pulling away from the comforting embrace Mapi had you in. Ingrid felt like you’d stabbed her, honestly, when you didn’t let yourself call it home. You were stoic again, though, your face void of emotion, wiping roughly at your cheeks to rid them of tears. 

“Kjære,” Ingrid said, hating the way you forced all evidence of your breakdown away. You’d been so upset, about something, but now you were acting as though nothing had happened. Your sister would have climbed into your brain if she could’ve, just to understand what was going on in there. 

“Let’s go home.” Mapi said easily, shooting her girlfriend a meaningful look. Ingrid wasn’t supposed to push you, she knew that. It was just getting harder and harder to not do so, especially when she could see how much pain you were in. She couldn't understand why you wouldn’t just talk to her, and you couldn’t understand why she was so concerned or why she was so desperate to hear what you were feeling. And considering it was the two of you, the situation was bound to blow up into an argument. It was just a matter of time. 

-------

Ingrid knew what was coming before her phone rang, but she still desperately wanted to avoid it. She was quite comfortable at the moment, curled up on top of Mapi in their bed, a show playing softly in the background. Mapi was scratching lightly at Ingrid’s scalp with one hand, and tracing lines over her back with the other. The movements made Ingrid’s entire body relax, which had definitely been Mapi’s goal, but it was all interrupted when her phone went off from next to her. 

She sat up off her girlfriend, glancing at the screen, her expression hardening. 

“Your mom?” Mapi guessed, pulling Ingrid back down into her when the Norwegian declined the call. 

“Yes.”

“You haven’t talked to her since Solstråle’s letter, have you?” 

“No.” Ingrid said. “I think I hate her right now.” 

Mapi was surprised, only because Ingrid didn’t hate anyone. If there was going to be a person, though, it would be someone who had hurt you. Because Ingrid didn’t like to kill spiders she found in the house, but Mapi knew she would kill a person for you without a second thought. “That’s okay. You can hate her.” 

“I miss her.” Ingrid admitted after another minute, her voice cracking. Her forehead was scrunched with sadness, and her hands gripped Mapi’s shirt tight in her hands. 

Mapi sighed, wishing she could take Ingrid’s pain away. And yours too, for that matter. “You can miss her too. You can feel whatever you need to feel.” 

“No, I can’t, not when Solstråle is so upset,” 

“How your sister feels does not limit how you feel. You can be hurt, and sad, and frustrated too. It doesn’t take away from pequeña’s feelings. Just like her feelings don’t take away from yours. You are both upset. That’s alright.” Mapi said confidently. “This isn’t just happening to your sister. It’s happening to you, too, and you can be sad, mi amor. You can cry.” 

Ingrid hadn’t even known she’d been about to cry until Mapi said that, but suddenly there were tears running down her face, and she was clutching tightly to the Spaniard underneath her, who did not seem surprised at all at the sudden emotion. 

“I know, baby.” Mapi husked, pressing kiss after kiss to the top of Ingrid’s head. She knew Ingrid needed this, and was content to let her cry it out until she heard a sharp breath from the doorway. You were standing just outside the room, frozen and horrified. 

“I’m sorry, Ing,” you mumbled, having come in to say goodnight, rather stunned to see your sister so distraught. 

Ingrid could only cry harder, now furious with herself for letting you see this, but too upset to do anything but squeeze Mapi’s hand, wordlessly begging for her to do something. 

“Ven aqui, nena, it’s alright.” Mapi said, gesturing you over to the bed. You looked skeptical, but you did so anyway, carefully sitting on the bed next to your sister. 

“I’m really sorry, Ingrid, I don’t mean to stress you out.” You whispered. You were in a guilty mood, it seemed, not an angry one, and Ingrid felt that somehow, she preferred when you were angry to this. 

“Don’t apologize, pequeña. You haven’t done anything wrong. Ingrid is upset, and you’re upset. It’s okay to be upset, and it’s okay to cry.” Sometimes, Mapi felt like she was teaching preschoolers how to identify and express their emotions when she talked to the both of you, though that might be an easier task.

“I’m not upset with you, Solstråle, I am upset with mom, and I am upset with myself. You don’t need to say sorry. Not for having a panic attack, for having a hard time, for any of it.” Ingrid managed then, taking your hand in hers. 

“I’m doing my best.” You said. “I know I’m not making it easy, but I promise I’m trying.” 

“We know you are. You’re doing so well, nena.” Mapi said enthusiastically, with so much excitement at you saying something remotely positive about yourself that you and Ingrid both cracked smiles. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Ingrid asked after a minute. At that, you withdrew, pulling your hand from Ingrid’s and rising from the bed. Both your sister and her girlfriend repressed sighs at your sudden withdrawal. 

“No, I’m really tired. I came to say goodnight. I’ll see you guys in the morning.” You rushed out, before bolting out of the room at a speed that could barely be considered a walk. 

Ingrid sighed once you were out of earshot, settling back into Mapi. “She’s so difficult.”

“She’s stubborn. Like her sister. She’ll come around, just give her time.” Mapi assured her. 

Giving you time, though, was a lot harder than it seemed. 

-------

Your whole life, you had been encouraged by your parents to be smaller, to take up less space. If you were upset, you should keep it to yourself. If you were angry, you should calm down. You were taught that your needs always came second to everyone else’s. You didn’t like to be vulnerable with people, and you didn’t like to put your emotions on others. 

So when you woke up the next day, it was the feeling of intense shame swirling around inside of you. You’d ruined what was an impressive win for your sister, and a nice moment with Mapi’s parents. You’d upset Ingrid, so much so that she had cried about it. 

Too much. You were being too much. 

You resolved yourself to be happy today. If not happy, content. Mapi and Ingrid probably needed a day off from your ridiculous, all over the place, emotions. So today, you wouldn’t feel. You’d be perfect, you’d be small, and you’d cause as little trouble as possible. 

What you didn’t expect, though, was for that to be the opposite of what Mapi and Ingrid wanted from you. They didn’t care if you took up space. They just wanted you to talk. More than anything, they just wanted you to be okay, no matter how inconvenient that process was for them. 

It was a day off for both girls, due to the match the day before, and they were able to let you sleep in. Ingrid was worried you were sleeping too much, but Mapi assured her that angsty teens always needed a lot of sleep, and depressed teens going through a rough time needed even more sleep. Pair that with the intense panic attack you’d had the day before, you were bound to be exhausted. 

When noon rolled around, though, and you’d yet to make an appearance, Mapi relented, much to Ingrid’s relief, who had half a mind to check you for a pulse. Mapi made a coffee to bring up to you, opening your door quietly to find you out cold under the covers. 

With Snø clutched tightly in your arms, your nose pressed against the soft polar bear, you looked so young. 

“Pequeña, despierta,” Mapi murmured, sitting on the edge of your bed and pulling the covers away from your face a bit. 

You blinked up at her groggily, an adorably sleepy expression on your face, and Mapi couldn’t help but push some hair out of your face and smile down at you. You looked slightly suspicious, as you couldn’t remember being woken up like this in the entire time living in Spain, but Mapi just handed you your coffee, and settled on the edge of your bed. 

“Morning,” you said after a minute and a rather large sip of coffee. 

“Afternoon.” Mapi corrected, a little confused when your face turned red at the comment. “It’s 12:15.” 

“That’s weird. Normally Ingrid comes to make sure I’m breathing if I sleep past 10.” You noted. 

Mapi chuckled. “We’re working on some of your sister’s annoying habits.” 

“Don’t get rid of too many, or there won’t be anything left.” You said, your lips tugging up into a smirk. 

“Okay! I will just go through this chocolate croissant I made for you in the garbage!” Ingrid scoffed from the doorway, turning on her heel and marching back down the stairs. 

If there was any surefire way to get you out of bed, it was to present you with a breakfast pastry. 

Within 90 seconds, you had kicked Mapi out, thrown some clothes on and bounded down the stairs, in search of the promised croissant. It was sitting on a plate at the counter, waiting for you, next to your sister who was glaring at you slightly. 

“Thank you, Ing,” you said sweetly, throwing her a charming smile. She rolled her eyes but smiled nonetheless. 

You hit Mapi’s hand playfully when she reached for your croissant, and she withdrew it with a laugh. “You’re like breakfast pastries the way Ingrid is about coffee.” 

“Reasonable? Reasonably attached to it? Is that what you mean, María?” Ingrid asked with a frown. 

“Of course, mi amor.” Mapi said with a smile, kissing Ingrid’s cheek softly. You averted your eyes, but you couldn’t lie and say that it didn’t make you happy to see your sister loved so well. 

The morning, or afternoon, was going exactly as you’d hoped. No attempts at conversation. No feelings. Of course, it couldn’t last. Once you’d finished eating, Ingrid perked up and seemed to prepare herself for what she was about to say, which instantly made you weary. 

“We should talk about last night, kjære.” Ingrid said calmly. 

You froze, slowly putting your mug back on the counter. Both other girls watched the way your whole body tense, the way every ounce of emotion was wiped off your face. 

“I’m fine. There’s nothing to talk about.” You said stiffly. 

“That is not true. Something upset you, and we should discuss it.” Ingrid argued. 

“Ingrid, it’s fine. Just leave it. We don’t need to talk about that. We don’t need to talk about anything.” You replied defensively. 

“It’s not fine!” Ingrid said, raising her voice, and shaking off Mapi’s gestures to calm down. “None of this is fine. We need to talk about last night. We need to talk about the letter you wrote. We need to get you in therapy. These are all things that need to happen, solstråle. We’ve given you time, now we need to do this.” 

“I am not going to therapy.” You declared, standing up with a scoff and crossing your arms across your chest. “Ingrid, I am fine. I don’t need to talk and I don’t need help.” 

Ingrid grew visibly more angry with you at that, throwing her arms up in the air in frustration. 

“Amor, take a breath.” Mapi said quietly, sighing to herself when Ingrid did not do so. 

“You don’t need help? That is the most untrue thing I have ever heard. You do not write the things that you wrote and then turn around and say you’re fine. You. Need. Help.” 

“Ingrid. I am not going to therapy, and I am done talking about this.” You said, your voice dangerously quiet. 

Your sister wasn’t phased, stepping closer to you with her eyes narrowed. “You will go to therapy if I say you will, and this conversation is not over until I say it is.” 

In retrospect, even Ingrid realized that this was decidedly the wrong thing to say. You didn’t take well to being told what to do. Your reaction really should have been worse; Ingrid had gotten off easy. 

“Jesus, Ingrid, do you hear yourself? You sound just like mom.” You spit back, feeling a bit of satisfaction at the hurt that flashed across your sister’s face. “I don’t want to talk about this, especially not with you.” You spun around and began stomping towards the stairs. “Don’t fucking follow me.” You warned over your shoulder, causing Ingrid’s jaw to drop. 

“Do not-” Ingrid began, starting after you. 

“Amor, leave her.” Mapi said, intervening before Ingrid got very far, and pulling her back. 

“She is the most frustrating person on the planet.” Ingrid huffed, slamming a hand down onto the counter. Mapi looked unimpressed. 

“She is probably thinking the same thing about you right now. I told you not to push her.” 

Ingrid rolled her eyes. “Could you be on my side here for once?” She asked bitingly. 

Mapi very calmly shook her head, opening her mouth to explain when Ingrid’s eyebrows flew up on her forehead. “No. I am on your sister’s side, and you should be too. No one has been for a really long time.”

The Norwegian deflated at that, sinking down into one of the stools at the counter. Mapi continued speaking, pulling Ingrid’s hair gently out of the bun it was in, and running her fingers through it. “You’re looking at this wrong, mi amor. She doesn’t need you to talk her into therapy. She’ll get there on her own, you just need to give her time. That girl has a long way to go before she admits she needs help, believe me.” 

Ingrid sighed deeply. “Can you go check on her? She’s mad at me, I just need you to make sure she’s okay and she isn’t going to do anything stupid.” 

“Of course.” Mapi said, delicately kissing Ingrid’s lips. “I love you.” She reminded the Norwegian with a soft, almost shy smile. 

Ingrid wanted to cry at how sweet, how perfect, how helpful and kind and funny and beautiful her girlfriend was. “I love you, so so much.” 

Mapi headed for the stairs, and Ingrid made yet another cup of coffee, a coffee she wouldn’t drink.

Because Mapi came running back down the stairs a minute later, an apprehensive look on her face as she approached her girlfriend. 

“Mi amor, she isn’t up there.” She said carefully. 

“What do you mean she isn’t up there,” Ingrid asked, rising to her feet and feeling panic rise within her. 

Mapi just shook her head, putting her hands on Ingrid’s shoulders. “She isn’t up there. Her window is open, I think she snuck out.” 

Ingrid felt like something inside of her was collapsing, leaving behind a chasm that was quickly filling with anxiety. “Where… what? She… she’s gone? She…we have to-” 

What had you left to do? Only horrible, life shattering options of where you were and what you were doing were flying through Ingrid’s head, and she reached out, latching on to Mapi’s outstretched hands. 

“Amor, breathe. Calm down. We’ll find her. Where would she go?” 

Mapi hoped, with everything in her, that Ingrid had an answer. Because she had to be calm right now, for Ingrid, but Barcelona was a big city. And if you didn’t want to be found… Mapi didn’t know what would happen. 

Ingrid’s mind was racing, but one thought pushed to the front of everything else. “The lake, there’s a lake in Melhus she would always go to when she was upset. She’d go to water, a body of water.” 

Mapi nodded. “Okay, there are 2 beaches in walking distance, in opposite directions. We’ll go to one, and we’ll send Frido to the other.” 

Privately, Mapi hoped Frido found you first. She wasn’t quite sure that you wouldn’t bolt away from Ingrid, but you wouldn’t be expecting Frido to pop up. 

-------

A quick call to Frido later, Mapi was directing one very frazzled Norwegian into the car, and setting off for the beach. Ingrid was deep in thought, and Mapi kept her hand on her girlfriend’s leg, softly and soothingly rubbing her thumb back and forth. It was only a few minutes to the beach, and Mapi knew Ingrid would talk before they arrived. 

“Do you think she’d do something stupid?” Ingrid asked anxiously, her hand covering Mapi’s and gripping tightly. The Spaniard didn’t need her to explain what she meant; she knew this question was coming, really. 

“She said she wouldn’t.” Mapi said calmly. 

“She said she wouldn’t ‘do that to me,’ that doesn’t mean she wouldn’t do it, especially now that she’s mad at me.”

“This is a little fight. She wouldn’t… do that. Not over this.” Mapi reassured her, but Ingrid remained unconvinced. 

“I don’t know what she’s thinking, María, maybe she was lying before.” 

“Ingrid, mi amor, calm down. You have to trust her. Even when you’re scared, and even when it feels like you should take her bedroom door off the hinges and implant her with a GPS chip. You have to trust her not to hurt herself.”

“But what if she does?” Ingrid asked softly, as if saying the words loud enough would somehow will it into existence. 

“We can’t think like that. Promise me you won’t think like that, okay?” 

“Okay.” Ingrid agreed faintly. Both of them knew she was lying. It was all she’d been worrying about for days, and all she would worry about for many to come. 

--------

Frido found you first. When she drove by the beach and didn't see you there, she got another idea. There was a rock climbing place nearby; Ingrid had said you always used to go to a lake back home when you were upset. Though Frido didn’t want to say so, it had been a long time since Ingrid had lived with you, and it wouldn’t have surprised her if your habits had changed. And the Swede knew from your instagram that you spent a lot of time rock climbing. She told Mapi where she was headed, and sped over to the gym. 

Sure enough, as soon as she walked in the building, she spotted you in the middle of the hardest wall, seemingly only using the smallest holds to get yourself up. You were breathing hard, and the worker belaying you looked a bit concerned. 

Frido pulled her phone out, shooting off a quick text to Mapi.  “She’s here, she’s okay. Let me talk to her, don’t let Ingrid come in. I’ll bring her out.” 

Ingrid probably wouldn’t help the situation, if you were as angry as you seemed. The blonde spoke quickly to the front desk attendant, and headed over to where you were. 

She stood, just watching you. You were a few feet from the top now, luckily for your hands, which you clearly had not put enough chalk on, and were beginning to really hurt. With only a bit to go, you took a risk, attempting an impressive, one armed pull to get your other hand to the next hold. You just barely missed, falling away from the wall. 

“Fuck,” you cursed, swinging back towards the wall and smacking it with your hand. You were lowered down, clearly fuming, and Frido took the opportunity to step in front of you, giving the girl attached to the other end of the rope a look. 

“Again,” you requested, avoiding Frido’s gaze. 

She took your hand in hers, though, inspecting the tear in your skin, shaking her head. “No, that’s enough Solstråle.” 

“Leave me alone, Frido.” You snapped, trying to pull away from her when you felt the rope fall slack. You turned, seeing that the worker had abandoned her harness in favor of going to help someone else, no doubt at Frido’s direction. 

You rolled your eyes, quickly regretting it when the Swede raised an eyebrow at you. Ingrid could be scary sometimes, but she had nothing on Frido. 

“Are they here?” You asked, loosening the harness and stepping out of it with an exasperated sigh. 

“They’re outside. You terrified your sister.” Frido said, pulling you over to a bench and making you sit down, before handing you a bottle of water. 

You looked unimpressed. “I’m 18, I can handle myself in the city for an hour.” 

“She wasn’t worried about that, she was worried you were going to hurt yourself.” Frido said bluntly, sitting down next to you. She ignored how stiff you’d grown and how uncomfortable you seemed, reaching for your hand and looking at it critically. 

“That wasn’t on purpose.” You said defensively, wrenching your hand away once again. “And I told her I wouldn’t do that.” 

“Can you blame her for worrying, Solstråle, really? And maybe you didn’t do that on purpose, but you came here to push yourself instead of dealing with your feelings in a healthy way.” 

You really hated that she was right. Frido was always right. It was simultaneously her worst and best trait.

“Are they mad?” You asked in a small voice, suddenly looking very much your age. Frido stood and held out a hand to help you up.

“Not right now. Just worried. Ingrid’s going to give you a hug and you’re going to let her.” Frido instructed. You supposed that was fair. And really, you could use a hug. Hugs from your sister always made you feel better, even if you’d never admit it. 

As you exited the building, you instantly spotted your sister and her girlfriend by their car. Mapi was leaning calmly against the Cupra, while Ingrid was pacing frantically, speaking fast and gesturing wildly with her hands. 

“Did I do that?” You asked quietly. 

Frido laughed. “I think she was born like that.” 

As you neared the car, Ingrid turned as Mapi pointed at you, her face melting with relief at the sight of you. It really hit you, then, how worried she must have been, to still be so anxious even after Frido had likely told her you were okay. You weren’t making this easy on your sister. 

She practically knocked you over with the force of her hug. “You’re okay.” She murmured into the top of your head, leaving a kiss there. 

“I’m okay.” You reiterated, letting yourself hug her back tightly, even if it was just for a moment. She felt you tighten your arms around her almost unconsciously, and made a note to hug you more often. Even if it seemed like you weren’t very interested. After a minute she pulled back, placing both hands on your cheeks and making you look at her. 

“Next time leave through the front door? And tell me where you’re going? Please?” She asked. You appreciated that she didn’t tell you to do this, leaving it more as a request, although you knew it was a reasonable rule for her to put in place.

“Promise.” You said quietly. She nodded her head, satisfied, before pulling Frido into a hug that also looked to be too tight. Mapi was looking at you, rather unimpressed. You knew she was not happy with you for upsetting your sister so much, and though it annoyed you a bit, you knew it was deserved. And you appreciated that your sister had someone that was so protective over her. 

“In the car, nena. I want to talk to you when we get home.” Mapi instructed. You got in the car with no argument, the fight having gone out of you a bit. It had nothing to do with the hug Ingrid had given you, nothing at all. Definitely not. Instead of anger, you only felt apprehension, because Mapi looked dead serious about whatever she wanted to talk about. 

-------

You were nothing short of shocked when Mapi opened the door to the garage and gestured you inside upon arriving home. Ingrid watched on anxiously, and you pretended not to see the way Mapi whispered some reassurance to her and kissed her cheek, before pointing her towards the kitchen

You’d never been in the garage before; it was Mapi’s space. You were already invading her home, you wouldn’t invade the one place of the house that was really hers, too. You knew she worked something out there, knew there was a reason both cars parked in the driveway instead of in the garage. 

Mapi followed you into the room and sat down on a stool next to the large motorcycle in the middle of the garage. It was clearly in the process of being restored. You hadn’t known Mapi rode motorcycles. Well, you hadn’t known that your sister let Mapi ride a motorcycle. You stood awkwardly in the door as Mapi inspected 2 different wrenches, until she pointed at the stool next to her. 

“Ven aqui, nena.” She said. 

You took a seat, not really enjoying the tense silence that washed over the room. “Are you mad at me?” You asked after a minute. For all your anger, and all your bravado, you didn’t like it when people were mad at you. Especially not people you looked up to, people you admired. 

“No. Not mad, nena. Never mad. I wish you hadn’t snuck out your window, but I understand why you did. I wish sometimes you thought a bit more about how your actions affect me and your sister, but I know how hard that is to do when you’re as angry as you are.” 

“I’m not angry.” You said defensively. Mapi rolled her eyes, handing you a couple of tools and beginning to tighten something on the bike. 

“You are angry. You’re so angry that you feel like you’re going to explode sometimes. You’re so angry that sometimes you forget that you’re sad, too. You’re angry, and you’re hurt, and I cannot blame you for that. If anyone has a right to those emotions, it’s you.” You didn’t really enjoy being perceived so well, shifting uncomfortably in your seat. “I know angry, nena. Do you remember when I hurt my knee?” 

You nodded. The first few weeks of Mapi's injury hadn’t been a fun time, your sister beyond stressed with dealing with Mapi’s injury and her new role in the team, and you’d tried hard to be on your best behavior. 

“I started working on this bike a year ago, when everything happened with the Spanish federation. It was Ingrid’s idea, a way for me to distract myself. When I hurt my knee, it had been a bit since I’d worked on it, but suddenly I was back in this garage until all hours of the night. It’s nice to be able to control something like this, when everything else feels out of your control. That is how climbing is for you, yes?” 

You relaxed a bit at the turn the conversation was taking, and Mapi wasn’t surprised. It wasn’t just the topic; it was the fact that she wasn’t staring at you, putting pressure on you to give her an answer she wanted to hear. You were just talking. Casually. 

“Yeah. I’m in control, and I don’t have to think about anything else. It’s relaxing.” 

“It’s good for you to have an outlet like that.” Mapi stated. “This bike was Ingrid’s idea, when we first got together. Do you know what her other idea was?” 

You were pretty sure you did, and you grimaced at the thought. “Therapy?” 

Mapi snorted, handing you the wrench she was using and taking the screwdriver from your hand. “Yes therapy. You don’t have to look at it like that, though, it doesn’t have to be a bad thing.”

“It’s not for me.” You said decisively. 

Mapi just shrugged. “I didn’t think it was for me either.” She paused, knowing your curiosity would get the better of you, and you’d ask for more information. 

“What changed your mind?” You asked after a minute. 

“Your sister did. After the euros, I had a hard time coming back to Barça and playing. Those weeks were some of the hardest of my life, trying to find my rhythm again but trying to recover from the stress I’d been under that summer. I was a mess. And Ingrid was right there with me, through all of it. I’d had a really bad day, and I asked Ingrid to come home early from a lunch she had. She came home, calmed me down, and afterwards, she asked me if I trusted her. I said I did. And she said that she really wanted me to try therapy. That I didn’t have to feel how I felt, and I deserved help. I deserved to not be miserable. She asked me to try it, for her, just give it a try.” 

“And you did.” 

“And I did. Because she’d done so much for me, I couldn’t refuse her request. Not when I knew she just wanted the best for me. I gave it a shot, and it helped, more than anything else had helped. It wasn’t a fix all, but it helped. It made me feel like I was doing something to get better.” 

Mapi abandoned her work on the bike, looking at you for the first time since you’d entered the garage. You could only see sincerity in her gaze. Not anger, but annoyance. Just sincerity. “You deserve help, Solstråle. No matter how you feel about yourself, Ingrid and I know you. And we know you deserve help. You’re a good person, and you deserve to be happy.” 

María sounded so sure. So completely convinced. You looked away from her, blinking hard. 

“You don’t have to agree to anything now. Keep an open mind about it. Think about it. Okay?” 

“Okay.” You agreed quietly, grateful that Mapi didn’t make a big deal out of it, only nodding slightly. 

“One more promise?” She asked. 

“What?” 

“Talk to us. Or just me, or just Ingrid. We’re a little lost here, nena. It feels like we were just kind of plopped down in the middle of this. We had no idea anything was going on, not really. And all of a sudden we’re reading that letter, and realizing we missed a lot. That’s on us; we should have noticed sooner. We don’t have the whole picture, though, and that makes it really hard for us to figure out how to help you. We’ll both worry a lot less if you talked to us, just a little bit.” 

That was reasonable, you had to admit. When she put it like that. You’d spent so much time being annoyed that no one had noticed, then being annoyed when they finally did notice, you hadn’t really spent a ton of time thinking about how little they knew. There was no context to your behavior, aside from what you’d put in the letter. And that just barely scratched the surface. You supposed they deserved an explanation. At least a bit of one. 

“I’ll try.” You promised. 

Mapi grinned at you this time, an infectious smile. “Bueno! Come here with that wrench. No, that one. Put it on this bolt. Twist.” 

And just like that, the conversation was over. Easily. You got the feeling that Mapi would have let it go if you’d insisted on it, but you miraculously felt better. Talking, listening had made you feel better. Mapi had made you feel better. 

-------

You both emerged from the garage around an hour and a half later, when the smell of baking cookies became too strong to resist. Ingrid had clearly been stress baking, one of your favorite of her habits. There were at least 3 different types of cookies on the counter, some done baking, some still in progress. It smelled so distinctly of home in the house, it was almost overwhelming. 

“I have something for you,” Ingrid said, drying her hands and stepping away from the counter when you walked into the room. 

“I can see that.” You said, nodding to the cookies appreciatively, but Ingrid shook her head. 

“No, something else.” Ingrid said.

“OH! I do too.” Mapi said excitedly, and they both disappeared in different directions. You stood bewildered in the kitchen, not quite sure what you were about to be given. 

They returned simultaneously, each holding what looked to be 2 frames. “Mapi’s first.” Ingrid directed. “I haven’t seen it yet.” 

You looked surprisingly at Mapi, taking the present and beginning to unwrap the wrapping paper. “What is this for?” You asked. 

“Your birthday.” Ingrid said quietly. You froze momentarily, an unreadable expression flashing across your face. “I know it seems like we forgot, but we didn’t. We got the dates messed up, but we had presents, and we had dinner reservations, just… for the 25th. Not the 15th.” 

“Oh. I thought you’d forgotten.” You said slowly, seemingly slightly emotional. 

“Nope, just bad at remembering dates. Now open your present.” Mapi said impatiently, bouncing on her feet like an overexcited child. 

You unwrapped it slowly, as if you were slightly weary of what it might be. When you pulled the frame from the wrapping paper, though, every wall you’d put up fell instantly, your jaw dropping open at the piece of art in your hands. 

It was a map. Not just a map, but a map of all the hiking trails in Barcelona. It was textured, detailed, labeled. It was intricate, all neutrals and earthy colors. It was so you. From the contents to the design, it was like it had been made just for you. 

“Mapi…” You whispered, staring, stunned, at the map. “Where did you… how did you… what?” 

“Ale’s sister Fresa  went to school with this girl that hand makes maps like this. I got her name from diablillo, and I told her what I wanted. Do you like it, do you like it?” Mapi asked excitedly. 

Mapi got her answer when you handed the frame to Ingrid, and launched yourself the few feet between you and Mapi, wrapping her in a tight hug. Mapi beamed at Ingrid, who was trying very hard not to cry. She hadn’t even given Mapi any advice on the gift. It had been all her girlfriend’s idea, she executed it all by herself, determined to get Solstråle the perfect gift. 

“It’s perfect, thank you María,” you mumbled. The ridiculous smile on Mapi’s lips didn’t falter at the use of her real name, only squeezing you tighter. 

“Te amo, Solstråle.” She said back. For once, you believed it. When you pulled away from the hug, it was to see Mapi looking smugly at your sister. “INGRID I DEFINITELY WON.”

Ingrid rolled her eyes. “She hasn’t even opened my present yet.”

“Still. I won.” Mapi smirked. 

Now it was Ingrid’s turn to hand you your gift. It was wrapped in the same paper, and you tore it off, almost cautiously, not quite sure what Ingrid would have gotten you. 

You were, once again, speechless at what you saw. This time, your eyes filled with tears immediately. Ingrid wasn’t as excited as Mapi had been, instead looking at you anxiously. 

It was a painting of a waterfall back home not far from your house. It was so distinct, you knew Ingrid must have paid a ridiculous amount of money to get someone to hand paint it. Each individual stroke was so precise, blending perfectly into the image it was supposed to be, but if you focused hard, you could pick out the greens and greys and blues and whites that you’d grown up with. 

It felt like home. It felt comforting. You could almost smell the trees, feel the cool sting of wind on your cheeks. It was a little piece of home just for you, and it was perfect. So beautiful and artistic that you weren’t sure you were worthy of it, but you looked at it in awe nonetheless. You wiped at your cheeks, not able to control the tidal wave of emotion washing over you. 

“Kjære? Is it okay?” Ingrid asked anxiously, her eyes searching your face, trying to figure out if these were good tears or bad tears. 

You let out an incredulous laugh. “Okay? Ingrid… it’s the most perfect thing I’ve ever seen in my life. It’s… perfect. Thank you.” You said, turning to her with a look of complete shock. And even though it pained Ingrid that you were so surprised to receive a nice gift for your birthday, she pushed that feeling down. Instead, she pulled you in towards her, placing the frame on the counter so she could hug you properly. You were happy with it, now, and that was all Ingrid had control over. 

After a few seconds, Ingrid moved to pull away and break the hug, but you kept your arms wrapped around her, not quite ready to let go yet. Maybe it was the homesickness, or maybe it was your sister making you feel so known, and so loved. Whatever the reason, you just wanted her near you for a minute more, holding you nice and tight and safe against her. 

“I love you,” she whispered, hearing you mumble the words back, your voice thick with emotion. When you did pull away, a minute later, it was to wipe at your face in an almost embarrassed manner. 

Seeing how desperate you were for the attention to be off your tears, Mapi spoke up, her voice light and easy. “You can put them up in your room, you don’t have anything on the walls.” 

You looked at the ground, then, almost sheepishly. “I didn’t know I could put anything up on them.” You admitted.

The room fell quiet, but even though you could tell that what you said had hurt Ingrid and Mapi, they just shook their heads softly. “It’s your room, for good, you can do whatever you want to it.” Ingrid told you. 

You were about to thank her, and try to move the conversation long when Mapi let out a dramatic gasp. Both you and Ingrid whipped your heads to look at her, confused at the mischievous grin on her face. 

“Ikea. WE CAN GO TO IKEA AND GET FURNITURE FOR SOLSTRÅLE’S ROOM.” 

“María, calm down. Maybe she doesn’t want to redo her room.” Ingrid looked at you hopefully, and you knew it had nothing to do with your room, and everything to do with her not wanting to take Mapi to ikea. 

You simply smirked back at Ingrid, who sighed and shut her eyes for a minute. 

“Okay. Ikea.” She said finally. You and Mapi cheered, comically loudly, completely ignoring the rules she was setting in favor of high fiving each other and going to get ready to leave. “María, you are not building anything. Solstråle does not need her bed to collapse under her in the middle of the night. And kjære, please, please, don’t let Mapi talk you into a loft bed, you’ll fall off of it and break your arm. Amor? Kjære? ARE EITHER OF YOU LISTENING!” Ingrid shouted after you, rolling her eyes at the chants of ikea echoing around the house. 

Mapi in Ikea was a handful. You, too, were a handful at the store. Together? She was going to lose one of you, she was sure of it. It had been a long day already. And it was only set to get longer. 

--------

fluffy engen-león family trying to put furniture together in the next part?

yes, that IS all i have to say about this chapter thank you for your time.

[daistea]

I love ur mithrun stuff sm can I request him and his s/o celebrating their 100th anniversary 😭 (for some reason I really like that scenario with long living/immortal characters)

Ya!!

gn reader

words: 1,296

╱╲❀╱╲╱╲❀╱╲

876,581 hours, 16 minutes, 48 seconds. More or less.

“You don’t have to do the math,” Mithrun spoke into your hair. His voice wasn’t soft, it was rarely soft, but it was quiet enough to only reach your ears. His arms snaked around your waist and his fingers tangled together in front of you. Without a second thought of what others might think, you rested your hands on top of his.

You didn’t have to do the math, he was right. But you’d heard that number somewhere. Something about 100 years averaging around 800,000 plus hours. That was a lot of hours. A lot of minutes. So many seconds, countless.

And Mithrun had decided to spend them all with you. As comfortable as you were with each other, that fact still made your heart pleasantly clench.

“I know,” you murmured. He only pressed his nose deeper into your hair, acknowledging your response.

Nearby, your friends and family were getting loud. Their voices carried through the building and mingled with the crowd. Fleki was trying to convince Pattadol to smoke something with her. Pattadol was lecturing Fleki in return. New friends that you’d met through the years laughed and chatted, but you and Mithrun stayed in your corner. Odd, because it was your party.

“Let’s go,” he said under his breath. His arms tightened around you.

You couldn’t help but make a face, “We’ve only been here fifteen minutes. It’s our party, we can’t just leave.”

You felt Mithrun’s chest rise and fall against your back as he sighed. “I told Pattadol we didn’t want this. It’s really not our usual way of celebrating.”

True enough. Your anniversaries were usually laid-back affairs, but Pattadol’s excuse for throwing a party was that this year was specific. It was special. One hundred.

Mithrun rested his chin on your shoulder. You didn’t need to look at him to know what face he was making. Your husband wasn’t one for parties, and you both had attempted to plead your cases against the celebration. Yet, one hundred years of marriage proved that Pattadol was right. It was special.

But nearby, Otta was shamelessly flirting with a half-foot girl she’d brought as her plus one. Lycion and Fleki were telling bad jokes and laughing too loud. Cithis had made a tall-man get on his hands and knees and be her footstool. Pattadol was on the brink of a panic attack as she tried to contain the crowd and throw the perfect occasion.

“You’re right,” you said, “let’s get out of here.”

Mithrun dipped his head toward your neck and pressed his lips against your skin. Your breath caught in your throat and, without another thought, you tilted your head to give him better access. He always liked it when you offered yourself, bared it all to him like land for claiming.

“Get a room!” Flamela yelled from where she sat at a nearby table. (Why had she been invited anyway?)

“If you insist,” Mithrun responded loud enough for her to hear. His tone wasn’t particularly excited, but his lips betrayed him. He pressed his mouth to your neck one last time, a final act of defiance against Flamela’s disgust.

“Come on,” you huffed as you pulled yourself from his grip. His brow furrowed ever so slightly at the new distance between your bodies, but you remedied his displeasure by taking his hand and leading him toward the exit. A quick glance at Pattadol confirmed that she was far too busy trying to wrench whatever Fleki was smoking out of her hands to notice.

Sweet escape. The moment you and your husband stepped outside, the cool night air of Melini greeted you. Mithrun exhaled and closed his good eye as if reveling in the sudden quiet.

“Our spot?” You asked.

He nodded.

A hundred years of marriage meant many things. It meant comfort, a home in each other, a connection that couldn’t be severed. It also meant that you and Mithrun often nearly read each other’s minds. He noted the looks on your face and knew precisely what they meant. Words sometimes failed but actions succeeded.

With no further discussion upon the matter, you and Mithrun walked hand in hand to your spot.

It was a grassy hill that overlooked Melini, and it was a bit of a hike. Both of you were still relatively young for elves, but over time you’d noticed a lack of willingness in your knees and back. Trudging up the hill had become more of a pain, but the view and privacy was worth it.

As you started, Mithrun turned himself to face you. He wrapped an arm around your waist— two thoughts entered your mind: he was either going to kiss you, or teleport you.

The rush of magic in your veins told you that it was the latter. The experience of being teleported had gotten more bearable through the years, only lasting half a second and not giving you nausea anymore, but the principle of the matter remained.

Yet, the view of Melini distracted you. The prickle of magic dissipated, and Mithrun kept his arm around your waist. His other hand brushed through your hair, tucking the strands behind your ear. You scanned the growing blanket of the city beneath you. Melini was all golden lamp light and old fashioned architecture. Every time you saw it from that angle, you couldn’t help but think of your short-lived friends who’d created your home.

“Usually I would snap at you for doing that,” you began to say, but the moment you looked at Mithrun, you found his gaze already glued to you. He didn’t care about the Melini landscape. How could he look at anything but you?

“You would,” he agreed, “but you’re not.”

Your heart skipped. “I’m in a good mood.”

“Why is that?” Mithrun’s long, cold fingers gently pulled out of your hair and found their home on your jawline, tracing lines across your skin, to your chin, down the delicate bones of your neck. He looked at you with calm appreciation, like a jeweler would admire and inspect a diamond. He drank in the sight of your face as if he wouldn’t see it again.

Those subtle, lingering gazes always made your heart flip. Somehow, you’d gotten through a hundred years of them without going into cardiac arrest.

“I don’t know,” you answered lightly, “I guess I just like you.”

“I would hope so.”

“Do you like me?”

“I married you, didn’t I?” His lips flickered up into a barely-there smile. “Do you recall when we first got married, and you kept asking me ‘are you sure you love me?’ as if I hadn’t just made the decision to exponentially improve my life.”

You recalled. Half of the time, you were only joking, because Mithrun made it clear, often, that he’d never been more sure about anything.

“I’ve improved your life, huh?” You asked, “Like a nice kitchen utensil or a good broom?”

Mithrun lifted your chin, “Not just a good broom. The best broom known to man.”

“Despite your words, you still manage to charm me. I wonder why that is.”

His fingers were still under your chin, but he began to lean in. You met him halfway, and your lips pressed together. You and Mithrun had rough kisses, with tongue and teeth and grit. You had soft kisses. Lazy kisses. Casual kisses.

This particular kiss felt like it held more, like Mithrun was trying to tell you something. It was heavy with unspoken emotion. His other hand left your waist and went to your cheek, and he held your face, cradling you, as if you were the most important person in the world.

And to Mithrun, that was exactly who you were.

╱╲❀╱╲╱╲❀╱╲

[grapejuicestyless]

could we have a story that warms up my heart and makes me feel gushy and mushy and eeeeeeek!!!!!!! I’m in need of something to ‘awwwwwww’ to and I feel like you’re perfect for that 🥹🫶🏻

Tiny Moves

JJ Maybank x fem!reader

Summery: You and JJ have only been friends for a little while, but to him it feels like he’s known you forever and he’s so sure he’ll always want you forever. Inspired by the song Tiny Moves by Bleachers. I wrote this with JJ Maybank in mind because I’ve been on an OBX kick recently but it could definitely be rewritten to fit other people!

JJ Maybank was a notorious man whore, to put it delicately. Sleeping with any tourist who even batted their eyelashes at him, and any other girl from the cut who was desperate enough to sneak away from the party for a blurred night with the blonde.

He didn’t mind the status, being the guy they all went to. In his mind, no strings attached was the best thing for him. It meant no pressure to feel things and no guilt for turning down any girl who had stupidly fallen for him.

That was, until he met her. Y/n Y/l/n, a friend of a friend and his former lab partner from middle school. He didn’t mean to fall for her, but then again, who really plans on falling in love, let alone with some girl JJ wouldn’t even show up to biology class for when he was still on the brink of becoming a teenager.

He remembers the messy braids tied in her hair and the way the safety glasses left faint marks behind on her face after long hours spent leaning over a plastic beaker mixing different colored fluids to make a rainbow.

Back then, he never really paid her any attention. What she did or didn’t do never peaked his interest, he would much rather have spent his time with his cheek pressed against the palm of his hands while he looked out the window like he was in prison. Now, suddenly and without warning, it did matter.

JJ wanted all of her tiny moves, he wanted to forever remember the silly marks from the glasses on her face or how her nose would scrunch and the skin by her eyes would crinkle when she would smile. It made his chest feel funny, wanting all of the silly little nonsensical things from her, things that would never give him any kind of personal gain but all things he couldn’t stop praying for.

He remembers how she stopped by one day without warning in the middle of January, stumbling over the piles of leaves piled up by the front steps of the chateau. She was wearing a soft white dress that swayed around her ankles in the wind and had blue painted on her finger nails. She was just giving back his notebook he let her borrow when she was out of class with a cold a few days prior to her visit, and truthfully he had just stolen Pope’s notes and taken the credit, but the soft smile on her face and the dimples by her cheeks made it impossible for him to confess the truth.

When she left, he felt the insatiable burning in his chest and the intense pounding of his heart against his ribcage. He placed Kiara’s hand over his chest wearily, only driving himself into more of a panic as he declared to her that he believed he was having a heart attack. He felt so funny and sluggish that he was so sure of it, but Kiara only swatted his hand away and laughed with her whole stomach as she realized his feelings before him.

“Jayj, you’re in love!” She said it so loudly, he had to put a hand over her mouth and hush her until she promised not to say anything to anyone.

And how could he have not seen it? The tiniest moves she made, it was like watching his whole world shake. A simple smile or a polite giggle from across the campfire at one of his half decent jokes and he was redder than the sky at sundown and hotter than the lively flame in front of him.

He doesn’t know how it happened, or why he suddenly decided to start paying her any kind of special attention in their friendship, or even why it was her. He always thought he’d end up with Kiara because at least if he was unloveable, him and her had made a pact to get married if they hadn’t met anyone by thirty. But now, all of his past meant nothing to him when he had the something he didn’t even know he was looking to find.

“Stay still.” Her voice ordered playfully, taking my wrist in her hands and blowing a cool breeze across my fingertips.

The overwhelming smell of nail polish mixed with the addictive smell of freshness in her room, her pillows fluffy and her blankets piled all over her bed. I knew that John B was surely going to give me a hard time when I walked into his backyard with bright orange nails, but when Y/n finished up her own hands and looked up at me all doe eyed asking if I would let her paint mine the same color so we could match, I didn’t even think about the names he would call me before I said yes. All I could think about was how happy she would be if I were to give in.

“Smells so bad.” I gagged, trying to pull my hands from her grip playfully, nose crinkling at the chemical like smell that covered my hands.

She laughed, throwing her head back as she grabbed both of my hands this time, despite one of them already being dry and shook them in her own hands.

“You’ll mess it up you dork!” She leaned forward, practically laughing into my chest at my faux hurt that I painted across my face. I laughed too, but not nearly as hard. I was too focused on her.

I’d only really been friends with Y/n for a year. She had only started tagging along just last June, and yet, she consumed all of my thoughts more than anyone I’d ever known. I wanted to be around her all the time, make her laugh just so I could hear the breathiness in her voice as she claimed she couldn’t breathe because her ribs hurt too much. I’d only really known her for a year, but it felt like we’d been intertwined like this forever, and I’m certain I’ll feel like this forevermore.

It was like Kiara had told me in January when she first came by in her pretty white dress and a sweet smile on her face, I was in love and I loved her.

“I love you.” Her giggles sputtered off into one final breath of air squeaking from her throat, and her eyes stretched in a way that confirmed that what I had said was out loud and not just the phrase I repeated to her in my head over and over again every time we spoke.

And my whole world shook violently when I got no response, feeling my heart breaking for that silent second and only hearing the ringing in my ears accompanied by the humming of the fan in the corner of her room.

And then, suddenly, her hands were on my cheeks, lips pressed to mine and eyelashes tickling my cheeks as they fluttered shut. She tasted like strawberry chapstick and minty toothpaste, I couldn’t help but feel completely consumed by her when all I could feel was her. Her hands, her lips, her coconut shampoo.

My hands found the back of her neck, massaging the skin between my fingers to deepen the press of her lips to mine like if I weren’t, she would slip away and I would wake from this blissful dream of mine.

When we pulled away, I found her eyes looking straight into mine, lips swollen and pink from where we were connected just a moment ago.

Then, suddenly, she was melting into a fit of giggles that bubbled from her chest, eyes closing as her forehead rested against my shoulder. For a second, I thought she thought it was funny, but then I felt myself fall into the same static feelings of pure excitement, happiness and love that she was feeling. That same funny feeling spreading from my chest to ever limb in my body until I was buzzing with it, blushing until I was sure my whole face was beet red.

“Why are you laughing?” I laughed along with her, pulling her head to rest against mine with both of my hands, feeling her moving against my forehead with each giggle that escaped her lips. Her hands found mine, pulling them down to her lap where she could brush her hands over my knuckles and smile at polish, which was now worn away.

“You smudged it!” She breathed out like it was the funniest thing in the world, and I knew it felt like it to her because of the leftover nerves and giddiness resting in her stomach, the same fluttery feeling I felt as well.

“Eh, you can fix them, right?” I didn’t let her answer, pressing my lips to hers again and holding her hands in mine. I’d only just gotten a taste and I was already addicted.

Maybe I was having a heart attack, but I wouldn’t know the difference with all the love pumping through my body. At least if I was, I would die knowing I finally got the girl.

And all of her tiny moves.

[upon-a-starry-night]

Number Neighbors Pt.20

Natasha Romanoff x Fem! Reader

Natasha Masterlist Series Masterlist

Word Count: 1.2k

Summary:  When you catch sight of the newest trend going around you know you’re all but bound to at least try it, it was harmless anyway. What could possibly stem from something so little?

----

When you’re finally released from the hospital they send you home with a list of instructions on how to take care of your wound and some medication. You sigh in relief at the sight of your apartment, it wasn’t the most extravagant place but it was comfortable and familiar, and you had actual food here. 

Tired of hospital food, you head straight for the kitchen when you spot the roses Leon had sent you. They’re still fresh and it doesn’t feel right to just throw them out considering you two ended on a good note. Instead, you set your bouquet from Nat on the counter and take apart the roses from Leon. You individually wrap them in some leftover tissue paper and despite your stomach grumbling you head back out of your apartment. 

You head to the park closest to your house and begin handing the roses out to random strangers you pass. An old lady sitting by herself, a man and his dog, and a group of women walking down the sidewalk. The deed makes you feel good about yourself and the smiles on their faces help remind you of all the good things in life. 

It’s a reminder you need after what happened.

You go to hand the last rose to a woman sitting on a bench on her phone when she looks up and you realize you recognize her

“Y/n! Oh my god!” You smile down at your coworker and her face lights up when you hand her the rose. “This is so sweet, thank you” You’re prepared to bid her a good weekend and leave when she stops you, grabbing your arm. 

“Wait- okay this might be kind of short notice but there’s this party coming up in a week and I really don’t want to go alone- plus you promised me we’d start hanging out” 

You do vaguely remember promising one of your coworkers that you two would start hanging out after you bonded over workplace struggles. Parties aren’t normally your thing but she’s got this bright and hopeful look in her eyes and honestly, you could probably use the socialization.

Shrugging, you figure it wouldn’t hurt to go, your habit of spending your weekends cuddled up with your TV and your snacks had been less and less appealing these past months anyway. 

“Sounds like fun! Will you text me the details?” She nods excitedly and hugs you and it makes you think of your mother. She would be so excited to hear how outgoing you’ve become and you can’t help but think it was all because of Nat. Not because she told you to go out (Although she did so very often), but because her presence just seemed to have that impact. Her sass and humor pulled you out of the slump that you’d been stuck in for what felt like forever. In the past few months, you’ve done things you hadn’t done in years and it felt amazing. 

You waved goodbye to your coworker with the promise of texting her more often and headed home. 

You didn’t know why but you had a feeling everything was going to change next weekend.

~~~~~~~

You weren’t panicking. You weren’t. You just hadn’t been to a party in a long time and your coworker definitely forgot to mention just how fancy the dress code was and now she was coming in half an hour to pick you up and you had no idea what to wear.

So obviously after a 5 minute mini-panic attack, you opened your phone to text Nat

        Nat🔪:

Y/n🍦:

I’m having a crisis

Nat🔪:

Typical.

What’s going on?

Y/n🍦:

I have a party tonight and

I’m told it’s very fancy

Nat🔪:

Look at you socializing!

Y/n🍦:

Har Har

Don’t patronize me

Nat🔪:

So what’s the problem?

If you need to brush up on 

Pop culture or recent celebrity drama

I am NOT the person to ask.

Y/n🍦:

Noted.

I need help finding an outfit

and you sounded like someone 

with impeccable style

Nat🔪:

If I knew calling you was all I had to 

do to get you to compliment my style 

I would’ve done it a lot sooner.

Y/n🍦:

I’m pretty sure all my fancy clothes 

have dust on them.

Nat🔪:

I’m surprised you have any at all.

What have you got?

Y/n🍦:

Well, I’ve got a red dress, a gold strapless one,

and a black one with a thigh slit.

Nat🔪:

Black. Definitely. 

Y/n🍦:

I should’ve guessed that’s what you’d choose.

Emo.

Nat🔪:

Rude. black goes with everything okay?

And it hides drink stains ;)

Y/n🍦:

…okay you might have a point.

But now the real crisis-

Gold or silver jewelry.

Nat🔪:

Show me your options.

Y/n🍦:

Sure!

*Images Attached*

Nat🔪: 

Definitely that silver bracelet.

And the pearl earrings.

Is that dust on your jewelry box, Y/n?

Y/n🍦:

No! Shut up!

For good measure, you send her a picture of your middle finger, to which she responds with an emoji with its tongue sticking out. It makes you chuckle until you see the time and frantically begin scrambling around your room to grab stuff for your shower. Not to mention you had to find a way to cover up your healing shoulder wound. You send Nat another brief text as the water is warming up since you know you probably won’t get the chance to text her until after the party.

      Nat🔪:

Y/n🍦:

I’ve got to get ready but

Thanks for your help, Nat<3

Nat🔪:

Of course.

Have a good time, Y/n ❤️

—-----

Nat had all but gotten used to the fluttering feeling she felt when she texted you until that damn phone call. Everything in her had been screaming at her not to do it, that you would recognize her voice and everything would fall apart. But after what happened to you she knew both of you needed it, maybe her more than you.

It was brief. So brief.

She was trying so hard to show you her authentic self while still making sure you didn’t recognize her but more of her actual voice slipped out than she intended. She couldn’t help it, she lost all train of thought when she heard your voice.

She loved the way you said her name. She could hear you say it a million times over but the call was cut short by her gift to you arriving. She didn’t mind though, not when you sent her photos of your flowers every day with cute captions like “longest I’ve ever kept anything alive!!” and “they still smell so good!?” and she won’t even mention the backflip her heart did when you sent her a picture of the dying flowers you pressed to keep them for longer.

She was glad you liked them. She was glad about everything when it came to you. She’d never consider herself an optimist but you were definitely changing her perspective on life.

Her mind drifted to the party you were going to tonight and she briefly wondered if it was the same one she was expected to show up to tonight, but it was a Friday night in New York and there was no way out of the hundreds of parties tonight you two would happen to be at the same one. Not to mention she didn’t see your name on Stark’s guest list. 

She sighed as she read your goodbye and looked to her closet. It was about time she got ready for her own party. God knows what Stark would have her doing this time, it was better to prepare for these things early.

Pt.21

A/n: Q& A in the comments while we wait for the most anticipated chapter of this series?~ Starry

---Taglist--

@marvelwomen-simp @cd-4848 @wandanatlov3r @rebeltombraider @ctrlamira @fxckmiup @aliherreraaa @natsxwife @la-douler-ne-finite-jamais @romanoffsgal @moistblobfish @natashaswife4125 @elenimoris @how-to-disappearrr @screechcat @toouncreativeforausername @ordelixx @autorasexy @blacklightsposts @vmpnano @jono723 @sylencr @saraaahsstuff @autorasexy @gay4hotmilfs

[leavesfallensparse]

Cigarettes & Wine | M. Healy | 2

'I think I'll put you in another song, a little glimpse of you before you're gone.'

In which Sadie and Matty can't seem to get along at all. They refuse to see eye-to-eye, but Sadie is starting to find Matty's annoyed face a bit too hot. When faced with conversations about feelings, Sadie can't help but want to run away from it all.

warnings: implied alcoholism, implied panic attack (not in a written scene), smut (unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), fingering), lots of arguing, they both just spew shite at each other <3.

word count: 6.7k

authors note: lalalalala sadie matty smut lalalalala. so what it's angry (lowkey heartbreaking) smut, its still smut. i rlly had fun writing this and i am sorry for the angst <3 (not rlly x)

Sadie doesn’t think she’s ever felt anger like she’s feeling right now. The band had just gotten back to their flat after one of their more hectic shows, and George had obviously had the smart idea to go out after said show. Sadie missed out on this night out, feeling like her body was about to collapse inwards, but when the band returned home, loudly, she woke up and immediately seethed. Her anger worsened when she fully woke, she knew what was going on in Matty’s room due to them sharing a wall. Cheap flat means paper thin walls. As each day passes the urge to ask George to switch rooms with her grows.

The pornographic moans and groans paired with the bedframe that is just about banging her bedroom wall down is enough to make Sadie roll out of bed and leave her room with a huff. She almost regrets it when she sees Ross and George basically rolling on the kitchen floor trying to put a frozen pizza in the oven, Adam was standing over the pair just laughing at them. Sadie smirks but then when she hears another bang of Matty’s bedframe come from behind her she mutters a string of angry swear words under her breath. “What does she look like this time?” Is the sentence Sadie uses to make her presence known to the three drunk men in the kitchen.

The boys all look up at her with grimaces on their faces which makes Sadie run a hand down her own, she knows they all want to say “You.” Which makes her reconsider her entire career. She is subjecting herself to something comparable to torture day in, day out. Ever since Sadie had started point blank refusing him sex he was acting crazy, actively seeking out girls who have something in common with her looks wise. She had only started closing herself off because the band was starting to gain traction and she didn’t want anything to end in a messy enough manner for them both to risk their careers. It seemed like a lost cause with the way they were both acting though.

“It’s okay though, we’re having a pizza party.” Ross had somehow manoeuvred from the floor to Sadie’s side, leaning his entire body weight on her. She grunted and moved so the pair of them were leaning on the counter, she looked in his eyes at his extremely slurred words and wondered how he could be this drunk after only being out for two and a half hours. She shook her head with a smirk and snatched the pizza from George, forgetting how much of his weight that Ross was putting on her until he keeled over onto the floor with a giggle.

“Oh my god, Ross.” George pretty much collapses on top of Ross in a fit of drunken giggles and Sadie busies herself with setting the timer on the oven. When she turns around, Adam is stood with his arms open, and she smiles up at him and accepts his invitation for a cuddle. He starts swaying the pair and she can’t help but breathe out a laugh at the song he’s attempting to sing, Sadie has no idea what song he’s actually trying to sing. She tries to pull away when he starts swaying a bit too hard but before she knows it the four of them are on the floor struggling to breathe through their laughs.

When they all sit down on the couch to indulge in their pizza, Sadie hears a door open and close from the hallway. She can’t help the way her eyes roll into her skull, and she suddenly doesn’t want to finish her plate. The way he gets a glass of water, silently, pisses her off beyond belief. He grabs a slice of their pizza and heads back to his room with the water, he notices the silence when he walks in, but he chooses to not make a petty comment. When his bedroom door practically slams shut, Sadie lets out a breath she didn’t know she was even holding in. “George, can I sleep in your room?” He nods with a mouthful of pizza and Sadie heads to her room to grab her water bottle.

Sadie can’t sleep for George’s excessive snoring, he always fucking snores when he’s drunk. She gets up to fill her already empty water bottle with a sigh, a chill comes over her body when she opens the bedroom door, she immediately connects the dots when she sees Matty hanging out the living room window, cig in hand. She sighs and turns her back on him, flipping the tap to cold and turning it on, she hears him clearing his throat behind her and has to stifle the groan trying to escape her lips. “Bored of your girlfriend in there?”

Matty’s chuckle tastes bitter on his tongue, he despises her immaturity sometimes. When he doesn’t reply, she turns to him and when he gestures her over with his head she sighs, she can’t say no to him, and she loathes it. Sitting down next to him she takes his offer of a cigarette, he also forces the glass of wine he’s cradling into her hand, which she happily downs. He looks at her, she looks out the window. “Can’t sleep?”

“George won’t stop fucking snoring.” Matty smiles at that and hands her his lighter. She hands it back and inhales deeply when her cigarette is lit. The silence between them is the calmest silence they’ve sat in for at least three months, anytime the two have been forced in a room alone the tension has been so palpable you could cut it with a knife. Probably due to the fact they’ve not had sex in three months either. She can’t help but study his face, she hasn’t properly taken him in for a while, she tends to avoid him whenever they aren’t shouting at each other’s faces. He looks exhausted, the way his eyes are heavy set into his face and his mouth is nearly permanently in a frown are the telltale signs, this makes her frown. She leans onto his shoulder and lowers her voice to a whisper, “I’m sorry.”

“What? What for?” She shrugs and he wraps an arm around her shoulders, an attempt to protect her from the cold breeze wafting in through the open window. Hesitating slightly, he leans his head against hers, his lips meeting her messy hair before he does so. She sighs and shuffles a bit closer, having sat at a decent distance from him originally. “Nothing to be sorry for, Sades. I’m sorry.”

“Well, what are you sorry for?”

“I’m not sure either.” At his lack of attempt to actually apologise, she hums, nothing has changed. This conversation isn’t progress.

“I should go back to bed.” Sadie feels Matty’s head shake on top of hers and she snickers slightly, raising her head to face him. Their faces are much closer than they were before which makes Sadie’s heart pick up in pace ever so slightly. She pretends that it doesn’t though. He tries to sneak a glance down at her slightly dry lips, but her eager eyes notice, and she instinctively leans in, she swears she does it without realising. Before she knows it his lips are on hers and every argument they’ve had recently has flown out of her head, replaced by the way his hand feels when it falls to her bare thigh, practically coaxing the goosebumps out of her. Matty pulls away first and Sadie shakes her head. “We can’t. Shouldn’t.”

Silencing her with another kiss, a squeeze on her thigh, and his tongue against her lips, Matty groans into her mouth, begging to be let in. She denies him entrance until his other hand tugs lightly at her hair, drawing involuntary moans from her mouth, gaining him entrance. Readjusting so he’s no longer sitting cross legged on the windowsill Matty drags Sadie by the hips on to his lap. She feels so dirty, Matty had gone from being inside the girl in his bedroom two hours ago to making out with Sadie in the living room, but a sick part of her likes knowing that he’ll always come back to her. The same sick part of her grinds down into Matty’s growing erection, revelling in the way his head thumps against the window behind him. “Fuck, Sades.”

“Did that girl not do it for you? She might look like me, but I bet she doesn’t fuck like me, hmm?” Her hands find the seam of her pyjama top, but she quickly feels him swatting her hands away, wanting to take her top off himself. Doing so with fervour, his lips ghosting her nipples, blowing hot air over them and giving her reaction a sick smile. When his mouth closes around her nipple, a low groan ripples through her throat, she feels the need to get his clothes off of him as soon as possible. “Matty, please.”

“You’re filth. Desperate to fuck me when I’ve got a girl waiting for me.” Matty’s words hit Sadie right in her core, writhing on his lap, desperate for friction. The thin material of Matty’s boxers paired with the lacey material of Sadie’s panties was sending her wild, the feeling against her heat is delicious but she’s growing bored of it. He lifts his hips in a frenzy to rid himself of one of two clothing items keeping them apart, at the rapid friction Sadie moans loudly and squeezes her eyes closed. Letting out a dry laugh, Matty shifts her on his lap, her eyes cast down to his length and her hand automatically wrapped around it, like it was muscle memory. “No, need to be inside you. Won’t last long.”

Sadie feels like her lungs are being squeezed with how breathless she is, frantically shuffling her panties down her legs. Takes himself in one hand, Matty lines himself up and grabs one of Sadie’s hands with the other, she squeezes it as he pushes into her, a whine scraping the inside of her throat before tearing out of her mouth. Matty lets go of her hand and sticks two of his fingers into her open mouth, hissing at her, “You’ve got to be quiet, Sades.”

Whining around his fingers, Sadie bucks her hips into his harshly, Matty lets out a sound akin to a growl. She stops and raises an eyebrow at him, brutally shoving two fingers in his mouth. Feeling his mouth forming into a smirk around her fingers at her smug face, he starts fucking up into her to break her mean demeanour. The way her eyes roll into her head spurs him on, his pace relentless, his tongue licking up and down her fingers to match the pace of his savage thrusts. An urge to hear the noises that Matty clearly wants to make takes over Sadie’s brain, so she rips her fingers out of his mouth and sticks it on his knee behind her, leaning back in his lap to feel him hit her deeper inside. “Can fucking feel you squeezing me, so tight, missed this.”

The fake pout takes over her face without her permission, “Really meant it when you said you wouldn’t last long. Pathetic, I’m not even close.” She’s playing it up and he knows it from the way she tenses her thighs and squeezes his knee until her knuckles turn white. But Matty takes her words as the truth, holding himself off from finishing inside her, picking her up and throwing her onto the couch. Moaning at the way he man-handled her, Sadie can feel the loss of him inside her like he’d just ripped her arm from her torso, her blissed out face was quickly replaced by a glare at the two fingers re-entering her mouth, scowling as his hips snapped back into hers. When he leans down to give her neck an open-mouthed kiss, she snaps around his fingers, into his ear. “Fuck you.”

“I am.” The words uttered into her pliable skin make her arch her back into him. She hates the way he knows her body like he worships upon it everyday on the hour, almost as though he had studied her every atom under a microscope in a lab. Lifting one of her legs over his shoulder, she whimpers at the deeper angle, her walls flutter around him and she can feel the stutter of his hips. “Your filthy cunt is fucking sucking me in. You’re like some kind of witch. Come on, give it to me, Sades, fucking hell.” Staring down at the way a string of saliva connects her mouth to his fingers when he pulls them out at a tantalisingly slow pace gives him an idea. “Open your mouth.”

The compliant side of her does so immediately, moaning at the way his spit crawls down her tongue, he nods, she swallows. The wetness of his fingers immediately reaches between her folds and finds her clit, matching the pace of his persistent thrusts. Her left hand scrapes his spine and her right hand rips at his hair. She loathes the way his hands make her fold, feeling her climax take over her entire soul, her eyes squeezing shut at the feeling. “I fucking hate you so much.”

The tone in which she utters this word has him spilling inside her with a pained groan. The pair hold each other tightly as they both hit their peak, Sadie comes down almost immediately from the way Matty rides out his high inside her, she hisses from the overstimulation. “Fucking hell.” His body collapses on top of hers and she whines at the scraping feeling she feels inside. “Pull out, please.” A muttering of a few more swear words from her mouth pulls him from the cloud he’s found himself on, ripping himself from her. The boy inside of him peers down at the sight of his release spilling from her, she groans and steadies herself at the thought of standing up and cleaning herself up.

“Stay here. I’ll be right back.” Her eyes fixate on the torn up skin of his back as he pulls his boxers back on and sneaks into the bathroom. When he emerges, he smirks at Sadie’s sleeping figure on the couch, her deep-set eyes gently fluttering as she gives in, her dark eyelashes resting upon the cheeks. The one word ringing in his mind, beautiful, is giving him a headache. He rubs at her bare thigh in a soft attempt to wake her up, between whispers of different variants of her name. “Just cleaning you up, darling.” She gently whines and rolls over.

“Why are you asleep on the couch?” George is hanging over her like a bad smell, looking down at her with a raised eyebrow, she groans and pushes his face away with a stretch. The sudden memories of the previous night climb into her brain and start to take over, sneaking a glance down, she smirks at the sight of the cushions propped up gently and her clothes on her body. The slight bliss that was beginning to take over her being is interrupted by an unrecognisable, shrill laugh at the kitchen island. George silently communicates at her to keep her mouth shut.

“Morning, Sades! Bacon roll?” At Matty’s chipper tone, George knows all he needs to know, cradling his forehead in his hand. She snorts and sits up, finally getting a look at the girl who was clearly not good enough for Matty. Sadie would describe the girl as ‘nice’, nothing more and nothing less. She looks nice. Matty doesn’t like nice. The other two boys are sat at the kitchen island too, stuffing bacon in their mouths like it’s going to make their hangovers magically disappear. Sadie circles round the couch to stand behind Ross, giving Matty a curt nod before sitting on the last spare seat, right next to this unknown girl.

“I’m Sadie. Who are you?” Adam covers his laugh with a cough, George groans into his hand, Ross is blissfully unaware, and Matty has to stop himself from whipping around to shout at the girl. The poor, innocent girl looks round at Sadie like she’d just shot her dog. A shit eating grin overtakes her mouth, smiling up at Matty as he places a bacon roll in front of her. “Thank you very much! Smells so good!” The tone of her voice makes Adam’s laugh finally escape his mouth, when Miss Unknown turns to him, brows furrowed, he panics.

“Oh, we have fun here.” Sadie opts for taking a bite so none of her laughter sneaks out. What a shit excuse, Adam.

“I’m Daisy, it’s, erm, nice to meet you?” No words. Sadie has no words. Daisy is basically Sadie rearranged. She politely nods at Daisy and turns to face forward in her seat, no longer wanting to interact with anyone. She feels a dull ache in her chest as she watches the way Matty talks to Daisy, a miniscule part of her brain is begging him to look at her. He doesn’t, instead turning back to the pan and humming a merry tune. Sadie is practically snarling at his back, knowing that her very nails have left marks on the hidden skin. That’s all it is. Hidden. Matty clearly has a sudden thought with the way his movements stop.

“Want any sauce, darling?” Sadie doesn’t know what happened, she’ll claim to have blacked out.

“No thanks, Matty.” Her eyes widen. Daisy nearly chokes on her breakfast, poor girl. As if on auto-pilot, Sadie’s feet drag her to her bedroom, completely abandoning her breakfast. She’s sure they all heard the scream she forced into her pillow.

The moon is the only thing lighting up Sadie’s room, the hopeful gleam staring right in her window. The Smashing Pumpkins ‘Oceania’ is humming into her ears as she edits a few photos from the night before, specifically avoiding the ones of Matty. A gentle knock on her door rips her from her daydream, pulling her eyes from the moon she murmurs a “Come in.”, shutting her laptop and turning round in her chair. But the sight of the man she’s avoiding draws a silent groan from her throat, she turns away.

“Hi. Can we talk?” He’s grovelling and she doesn’t know why. When met with silence he keeps talking. “We can’t keep dancing around this, it’s starting to hurt me. I can’t fucking look at you without wanting something from you, anything. I just want a sign of life, Sades.” She stares back out the window, wishing she lived in a house alone on the moon. But no, she’s here, face to face with everything wrong with her. All she knows how to do is shake her head.

“I don’t know what you want from me. I don’t have anything to say to you.” The way he takes a deep breath as he sits down on her bed makes her panic a bit, she knows that he’s about to hurt her feelings. It was just the honest truth, she didn’t have anything to say to him, what words could possibly come out of her mouth that he’d want to hear. Not a single thought in her head is something that should be said out loud to him.

“No, Sadie. What do you want from me? I am fucking sick of you, the sight of you, the way you’ll speak to the boys with no fucking malice in your tone, what did I do to you? And, what? Every two months you want me to fuck you and have it not mean anything? I can’t stand to be in your fucking presence everyday anymore, it’s draining me.” She zones out slightly, trying to will the lump in her throat to go away. Nothing that he had said warrants tears because he is also telling the honest truth.

“We’ve ruined it. Been friends eight years and fucking ruined it.” Shaking her head with a wet laugh she lets it fall to rest on her knee, a single tear slipping out. “Can’t believe there was a time we got on. Now you’re just horrible to me.” Bitter laughter takes over her ears and another tear falls. And another. Lifting her head she writes down the words, ‘wishing you could forget the present you’re living in’, in the notebook on her desk. The notebook is just full of shit, mostly angry shit, recently.

“You’re the horrible one. One day someone snapped their fingers and you turned on me. I can’t fuck around with you anymore, you’ve changed, and it makes me sick. To my stomach. And calling me horrible? Whatever.”

“You’re still talking if you weren’t aware.”

“Yes I was. Wasn’t done either.” Standing up and gesturing wildly, his bitter tongue still talks. She’s reduced to a pile of sobs on her desk chair, just watching, unable to make it stop. “I also find it quite frankly hilarious that you’re the first one to tell people that I’m the ‘worst person you’ve ever met’, it wasn’t that when we were shagging everyday four years ago.” Sadie sniffs a laugh at this, he’s contradicting himself by saying ‘she’s changed’ one second, then referencing a time Sadie actually liked him. “Oh! Another thing, telling George that I’m the only one you don’t say ‘I love you’ to is so strange. I’d like an explanation.” Walking over to her until he’s hanging over her, she has to look up and face his snarl. “Why? Why don’t you love me. I think you do and you’re just fucking scared of me, pathetic, by the way. I think you realised years-”

She interrupts him, unable to control the angry scream ripping from the depths of her lungs. “Stop! Just fucking stop! Get the fuck away from me.” He stills and cocks an eyebrow. “GO.”

A slam of a door and tears coming out in screams is all that’s heard through the flat.

The next time Matty’s on stage doing what he loves, he isn’t sure he actually loves it anymore. He’s considering hiring a new photographer. Sadie’s been dancing round his feet all night, apparently unable to take a single photo of Matty, she’s taken more photos of Adam tonight than she probably ever has. The way in which he is performing is growing slightly more aggressive, standing on the stage, seething, unable to do anything about it. Could you imagine what the crowd would think if he started shouting at his photographer mid-show?

She smirks as she comes round the back to take a couple photos of George, he shakes his head at her, and she lets out a laugh. Shrugging her shoulders as if she’s done nothing wrong, she quickly realises that coming onto the stage to take photos was a mistake, Matty turns his back on the crowd briefly and whispers in her ear, “What the fuck are you doing?”

“What? Nothing? My job.” Turning back to the crowd with a scoff he keeps singing, Sadie takes a couple photos of the view from the back of the stage, looking out into the mass of people, she smiles at her camera knowing it’ll be a good shot. Exiting the stage from the left hand side she takes a minute to look through a couple of the photos she’s taken as she sips from her water bottle. The events manager approaches her and smiles.

“Why aren’t you taking as many photos of Matty?” The way her sickly sweet voice punctures Sadie’s ears makes her cringe a little bit. But she hides it with a returned smile in her direction and turns her body slightly towards her. Taking in her professional outfit she hides a laugh, how she’s not sweating is one of the wonders of the world. The way she was very clearly flirting with Matty before the show had pissed her off and Sadie knew she was only asking because she wanted to see photos of Matty.

“Don’t worry about it.” Walking all the way to the back of the hall with no more words said, Sadie scoffs when she’s no longer in hearing distance. Shaking her head she snaps a few more pictures before heading back to the dressing rooms, hearing the band finish the show she busies herself with looking through photos. She likes to pretend she doesn’t exist after the boys finish a show, they also like to pretend she doesn’t exist, mostly high on adrenaline. Since people had started taking the band more seriously, the energy at their shows has increased tenfold. So has their egos but Sadie never makes comment on it. Hearing the stomps of Matty down the halls has her realising that pretending she doesn’t exist isn’t an option today.

“What the fuck was that? You’re embarrassing yourself.” Slamming the door behind him, leaving just the two of them in the dressing room, Sadie rolls her eyes. She watches on as he grabs a wine glass and pours from the bottle, he takes a sip and groans, shaking his head. When their eyes meet, Sadie curls into herself a bit, intimidated. “Just utterly pathetic.”

“What’s pathetic? Me not wanting to see your face? Did you forget the things you said to me? Or are you going to blame that as a ‘heat of the moment’ thing like you always do?” The slam of his glass on the table makes her jump and he turns to her with nothing but malice in his eyes.

“No, you should be able to hold a level of professionalism that allows you to do your job no matter how you actually feel, Sadie. You’ve always managed to photograph me even if I have been in the wrong, but not today. I’m calling you pathetic because I thought you were more mature than you actually are. Turns out I was fucking wrong, hmm?” Matty is leaning over her, pointing a finger down at her. She stands up to defend herself.

“Actually, I think that you speak to me like I’m a piece of shit on the bottom of your shoe and then expect me to carry myself professionally when in reality just the sight of your face makes me want to punch it. And oh, I’ll just carry on taking my silly little pictures and pretend you don’t come off that stage and hurt my feelings. Every. Single. Day.”

“Oh, I hurt your feelings? Fuck off, Sadie.” With this he leaves the dressing room and slams the door behind him so hard that Sadie sees the mirror on the wall shake a bit. She has to hold her laugh in when he comes back in for the bottle of wine. She really struggles to hold it back when George comes in and gives her a look like she’s dumb.

“What?” When George just laughs at her she laughs too. She grabs the second bottle of wine from the table and takes pleasure in drinking straight from it. “Genuinely what was I supposed to do? Let him keep treating me like this?” George leans onto her shoulder when he sits down, his voice is sympathetic, and Sadie is having none of it.

“You could’ve gone about it a bit nicer.”

“Why would I be ‘a bit nicer’ after all he’s done to me?”

“Yeah, you’re right, fuck him.” With that George takes the bottle and starts drinking from it too.

They’ve somehow ended up in a sleazy bar in Soho, they’d played just round the corner at some hall Sadie can’t remember to name. Matty’s still pissed, Sadie is very drunk, some would call this a recipe for disaster, George would call this a recipe for entertainment. Sadie has linked eyes with a notably cute guy a couple of times this evening, but she’s waiting for him to be the gentleman and make the first move to speak. As Adam stands up to get the next round she hears laughter from behind her and sees Matty flirting with some girl. She turns to Adam, “Get me a vodka shot, too.”

Adam really shouldn’t be encouraging her to drink anything that strong, but after clocking on to what Matty was doing he immediately adds it to the list of drinks he’s ordering. When it slides in front of her it’s down her throat practically before it’s even stopped sliding her direction. Ross grips her arm and laughs but she pays no mind to him, distracted by the bitter taste in her mouth, she’d be convinced the bitter taste wasn’t coming from the liquor. Eyeing the way Matty’s arm slings around the girl and his shoulders look slightly less tense she turns to search the crowd of people, looking for the guy who was eye-fucking her earlier. She leaps out the barstool when she sees him, throwing everything about wishing he was gentlemanly out the window. “Hi, I’m Sadie.”

“Theo, nice to meet you. I was gonna come over in a bit but here you are, like a dream in front of me.” Sadie laughs probably louder than she should’ve at this, hand coming down on his arm. At this Theo notices the lack of drink in her hand and rests a hand on her lower back, “Shall we go get you something to drink? On me, of course.” She lets him lead her back to all her friends, narrowly avoiding them as he leans over the bar to order her an espresso martini. She does not like espresso martinis.

“Thank you. I noticed your accent, Australian, right? What are you doing in England?” The small talk flows quite freely between the two as they exchange careers and anecdotes, Sadie finds it easy to talk to him. Not as easy as any of her actual friends but it’s good enough. She has to hold her breath anytime she takes a drink but they’re free, so she isn’t saying anything. Matty catches her eye for the first time since being distracted by the girl on his lap, when he catches a glimpse of the blonde boy standing next to her he shakes his head. She scowls at him and turns back to the boy, a bit closer than she was before.

“Do you wanna get out of here? Maybe back to my hotel?” Sadie doesn’t really hear him, she sees Matty shaking her head at something the girl is saying and when she starts shouting at him Sadie knows he’d just been asked the same question she has. Matty makes fleeting eye contact with her, making a look that reads ‘I dare you’. Turning back to Theo she nods her head, smiling up at the smug look on his face, shoving his arm slightly. She finishes her drink with a slight gag and grips onto his arm as he leads her out the front.

“How far is your hotel?” She’d love to know why she feels guilty.

Sadie’s sitting on the doorstep to their flat building with mascara staining her cheeks. When she’d gotten back to Theo’s hotel she experienced something akin to a panic attack and basically ran out of there, he’d chased her just to make sure she was okay and when all she said was, “It isn’t your fault,” he knew that it was the other guy from the bar holding her back, the one from her friend group, “I just have to get back to my flat.”

Feeling nothing less than mortified, she couldn’t bring herself to go in, so she was sitting smoking on the doorstep with the entire evening playing on a loop in her head. Dropping her head to her knees with a sigh she let one more tear fall before putting out her cig with her shoe and opening the door behind her. When she opens the door to the flat she’s met with silence, unsure if anyone’s home until she hears George snoring and a strum of a guitar in the room next to hers. Upon realising he’s the only other person awake she admits defeat and heads to her own room.

After brushing her teeth in the bathroom and grabbing water and some painkillers from the kitchen, she opens her bedroom door to Matty standing, staring down at her. Shutting the door behind her she looks up at him with a fixed glare, silently wishing he’d brush past her and shut the door so she could sleep. But no, as she shuts the door behind her she finds herself slammed against it. “You’re so fucking pathetic, Sades.” It might be the slight buzz she still feels in her head, but his words paired with his hands on her hips hit her right in her core, feeling like her head is about to float right off her shoulders.

“Matty, you’re just here to fuck with my head.” She really tried to make her words believable but the way she trails off into a whine makes it seem quite the opposite. The way in which her body always reacts to him the way he wants will forever make her angry, staring up at him trying to keep her glare steady on her face. It proves hard when Matty’s face moves down to her neck, attacking it with his lips, practically taunting her by the way he leans back up to swallow the moan that leaves her mouth.

She fights her body, trying her hardest to not kiss him back, but the way his tongue is licking into her mouth makes her desperate for anything he’ll give her. “Think you can just go fuck anyone, hmm? You’re wrong, angel. Belong to me, don’t you?” The scowl that takes over her features makes him smirk down at her. “Pretty when you’re angry. Gonna let me show you who you belong to?” She doesn’t want to nod but of course her body is doing things without her brains consent. To be fair said brain is actively turning to mush and melting out of her ears.

“Matty, please. Hurting my head.” After a quick glance up from her neck, he realises she doesn’t mean that literally, but instead she means that his actions are confusing her. He’s too in the moment to care, dragging her to the bed to put her out of her misery. The feeling of the mattress on her back makes her sigh in pleasure, he smirks down at her, working his hands under her, way too big, jumper as he hovers over her, moving down at a teasingly slow pace. She writhes on the bed until his hands take a strong grip of her hips, dragging them to the bottom of the bed before holding her in place as he kisses from her knee to her thigh. “Fuck, why do you always come crawling back to me? Just told me you can’t fuck me anymore.”

“I can’t get enough.” Letting go of her hips to move her panties down her thighs, her hands whip to his hair as she feels a puff of cold air blown onto her clit, her heart stopping in her chest at the feeling. He growls into her dripping cunt, licking a stripe up it before feeling her thighs squeeze his face, moving his hands round them to keep them apart. “Be good. Keep quiet. Maybe I’ll let you cum.” The whine that leaves her mouth is involuntarily and goes against what he’d just said, she knows she’s fucking in for it now.

Lowering her voice to a whisper she leans up onto her elbows, “Matty, do something.” Brown eyes looking into her blue ones with a teasing glint he gives her another kitten lick and her elbows give out on her, back arching from the mattress. The teasing pace of his tongue is making the whole ‘keep quiet’ thing impossible for Sadie, her entire fist is in her mouth at this point and her brain is wondering where on earth he learned how to do this. Sure, he’s eaten her out many times before, but this is her first time realising how good at it he’d gotten. “Please, stop teasing.”

Humming into her wetness, he ponders on whether he should give her more or not. Does she deserve it? “Me stop teasing you? Oh, angel. Take your own advice.” Something about the way she whimpers spurs him on to, in fact, stop teasing. Giving in to her immediately, his tongue finds her clit and picks up the pace by the most miniscule amount. Unwrapping one of his hands from her thigh, his fingers find her entrance, ever teasing, but finding their way in after she hisses down at him to stop.

When he parts for a breather Sadie can see her slick on his chin and the sight brings out something carnal in her. She grabs his chin and pulls him up to her level, smashing their lips together as if they’re running out of time. Pulling away from her, Matty looks down at her, jaw slightly slack. “Like tasting yourself? What do you want, angel? Speak to me.” His digits still slipping deeper into her makes it incredibly difficult for her to formulate words, after whining at him and being met with a cocked eyebrow, she manages.

“Want you.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Just fuck me, Matty.” He doesn’t relent. Hands speeding up, kisses draped across her neck, his other hand finding it’s way up her jumper, squeezing her tits. Determined to pull at least one orgasm from her before giving in to what she wants. He groans into her neck when he feels how tight she’s squeezing his two fingers. “I’m gonna cum.”

“Let go then, angel. Give it to me, all over my fingers, gonna make a mess?” Frantically nodding, she feels her brain fading away into nothingness before his lips wrap around hers. Laying still, not kissing back, her orgasm takes over her being, Matty practically chews her moans with his teeth as if they were tangible. With a whine she rips his hand from between her thighs and finally gives in to the feeling of his lips on hers, kissing back with fervour. He pulls away to glance at his fingers, smothered in her arousal, the sight alone would’ve made him hard if he wasn’t already. Opening her mouth without having to be told to, she takes his two fingers into her mouth, sucking tiredly at them. “You tired?” Taking his hand out of her mouth to hear her reply, he smiles down at her blown out pupils.

“Fuck me, please.” Sometimes she can’t help but make the same mistakes.

Sadie had woken up hours ago. Some sick part of her is forcing her to stay in bed, under his arms, in his t-shirt. There’s an air of domesticity surrounding the pair, the way his dark eyelashes flutter slightly in his sleep has Sadie enamoured. Silently wishing things could be easier, with a sigh. Her brain starts to ponder on where things went wrong, and who might’ve been at fault, when she didn’t like the conclusion she came to she shut her eyes. Matty must’ve felt the way her body shook slightly, waking up slowly with a long stretch. “What you crying for?”

“I don’t know.” He squeezes his arms slightly tighter around her and wipes a tear from her cheek, unable to stop the concerned expression from taking over his features. Rubbing a soothing hand down her back, he shushes her until she’s calm, looking down at her slightly with an encouraging glint in his eye. “I just feel shit about the point we’ve gotten to. Wish we were 16 again.”

“Angel, don’t feel shit. I’ve been a dick to you recently and I’m sorry, I just don’t know how to speak to you anymore.” Sadie nods against his arm at his words, the soft smile taking over his face makes her feel at home. He looks like he’s 18 again in the mornings. It makes Sadie feel a bit sick.

“I don’t know how to speak to you either. We’ve spent everyday together for as long as I can remember, but it’s like you changed without me realising.” Matty hanging off of every word she says enhances the sick feeling in her stomach and she looks away from him. Grabbing her water from the bedside table she cradles her headache with her other hand and hears Matty laughing at her from behind. Putting her water back down she hits his chest and stands up. “I can’t have this conversation with you. I think I need to fucking find my own place. Then Ross and Adam can actually have their own rooms instead of being forced to share. Think it would be best for everyone.” Being met with a head of curls frantically shaking, she sighs.

“You can’t.”

“I will. Watch me.”

[adalwolfgang]

Could i request platonic hcs for norman bates adopting a child, maybe one that was kinda just left at the motel? ^^

🏨𝗮𝗻𝗴𝘀𝘁𝘆-𝗶𝘀𝗵/𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗳𝗼𝗿𝘁/𝗱𝗮𝗱𝗺𝗮𝗻🏨

Today was a slow day like all the others. No one had checked into the hotel in a few weeks except for the occasional lost soul who would come in to ask for directions. Norman was too occupied in the backroom to here someone come in. Specifically two people come in.

Your former parent or guardian walked cautiously up to the check in desk, you excitedly following close behind. There was a skip in your step unlike your guardian, who was crossing their arms across their chest and a frown on their face.

A few hours prior, you were playing with your toys and watching a show/movie you liked. Your guardian had walked into your room, telling you to be ready to leave in the next few minutes and that you were both going to be staying at a nearby hotel for a few days. You didn't question their random decision. Already sitting in the car with a giddy smile on your face. You were excited to be visiting a new place. New places meant adventure in your eyes.

Now you were sitting in a lush chair, kicking your feet in excitement. Your guardian had told you to go find a chair to sit and wait in while they got your room taken care of. Due to the position the chair was facing, you missed the sad look your guardian gave you as they rung the bell, that alerted Norman, before quickly exiting the lobby of the hotel and driving off in their car.

Norman came bustling out of the back room, wiping off the front of his shirt to try and look somewhat presentable. A look of confusion crossed his face when no one was at the desk. More confusion flooded his face when he spotted you sitting in a chair, alone. No other adult or human being for that matter insight.

He made is way from behind the counter and cautiously approached you. You didn't seem to notice or hear him approach so he cleared his throat to get your attention. When you turn your face to him, the first thing that caught his attention was your eyes. They were filled with a mix of wonder and adventure. Norman barley caught himself practically gawking before coming back to the harsh realization on why you were there in the first place.

Your parent/guardian had abandoned you.

•Gives you your own private room right next door to his. It’s much more spacious than your old room.

•Mother has mixed feelings about you. Approves of you at first because of your innocent nature but also views you as a distraction to Normans work.

•Since Normans new to the whole “being a parent” trope, it takes a bit of trial and error but he soon gets the hang of things.

•Spoils you every chance he gets. Your room is decorated to your own liking, with whatever toys you liked, the walls painted your favorite color.

•Will agree to whatever games it is you’d want to play. Whether it be dress up, tea parties, hide n’ seek, coloring/painting. You name it.

•He tries to keep you away and out of sight from guests. He doesn’t want to risk the chance that whoever your previous parents or guardian were to show back up and decide they wanted you back. Since he never got the chance to see who had left you at the motel, everyone is a suspect.

•He tries to have a schedule and be as organized as possible so he can balance work and taking care of you. He makes sure you’re awake no later than 10 am, (Tries) homeschools you from 11 am to 1 pm, Bedtime no later than 9:30 pm.

•If you ever get overwhelmed or have a panic attack, he’ll either wrap you up in a blanket and lay you down on the couch OR set you in his lap and read to you.

•Names he calls you(Yes i know lots of littles): Little one, Little Monster, Mouse, Sweetie, (whatever else pet-names you think he’d call you)

[athenamikaelson]

Written in the Stars

Klaus Mikaelson x Reader!Soulmate x Elijah Mikaelson PART 1

Word Count- 4.3k

Warnings- Swearing, blood, death, panic attacks, mentions of the confederacy (ew)

A/N- This will be a slow-burn series.

The reader has a brother, I know it’s not very X Reader, but it’s to help the storyline.

I brush down the black tie my younger brother is wearing, the satin fabric making me slightly cringe. 

“Are you sure you’re not going to go? We can go show those stuffy old bitches how to really party.” I let out a small huff at Theo’s question, shaking my head amusingly. 

“I’d rather not spend my Friday night with a bunch of Mystic Falls’ elite. Hearing them talk about how they’re so proud of their southern heritage,” Both my brother and I let out sounds of disgust, “the Confederates lost get over it.”

Theo stands in front of the hallway mirror and goggles himself. Where I am rather introverted, my younger brother is most likely the most self-confident person I have ever met. He has called himself, “A gift to the human race,” on more than one occasion. So it takes him about a good 9 minutes to gaze at himself in the mirror before we walk out the front door to the car. 

We drive in silence, or I drive in silence as Theo hypes himself up in the passenger side mirror. 

After a 10-minute drive that seems to have taken at least twice that time, we finally reach the long driveway of the mayor’s house. 

“Why are you even going to this masquerade thing anyways, you hate dances,” I ask him as we wait behind a line of cars.

“Tyler is my football captain, and this thing is to honor his father, I’m here for my fellow man,” Theo presses a fist to his chest and puts on a fake sympathy look.

“So you’re actually doing it because you want to get on Tyler’s good side so he puts you on Varsity?”

Theo’s sympathetic look drops and is replaced with a shit-eating grin, “You know me so well.”

As we get to the front of the line of cars, I hum along to the Coldplay song playing on the radio.

“So what are you going to do while waiting for me?”

I pull my car up to the front of the “house” which is really just a mansion. 

“I have a feeling you won’t be here very long, or stay out of trouble so I’m just going to park somewhere and wait for you.”

My brother does a look that looks like he agrees with me about him getting into trouble and nods his head in agreement. I put the car in park and Theo unbuckles his seat and gets out, straightening out his suit as he goes.

“Bye nerd, don’t wait up!” Theo yells as he climbs the stairs walking past Mystic Falls’ elite. I let out a sigh and pull away to find a parking spot. 

—

My fingers graze the pages of my book as I glance at the time, Theo has been here for over an hour now and hasn’t shown any signs of leaving. I bring my back up to continue reading when a figure in the distance catches my eye. I lean forward and catch a glimpse of who I believe is Elena Gilbert. Elena’s a popular girl in my grade, who I’ve probably had two interactions within my short time here in Mystic Falls. I don’t know much about her other than that she’s dating some guy named Stefan, her parents died in a car accident and her brother is in the same grade as Theo. Theo and Elena’s brother don’t hang out either because Theo says he’s a “stoner emo.” Theo’s never been one to keep his thoughts to himself. 

Elena seems to walk with a slight limp which makes me slightly concerned but nothing to make me go out and try to talk to her. I hate talking to people in general, especially kids my age. Elena has always seemed nice but I’m not taking the risk.

 Or at least I wasn’t until I saw a man in a mask start following behind her. I may hate interacting with people but I would never let another girl get attacked if I had the power to stop it. The next thing I know I’m hopping out of my car and jogging behind them. 

“Elena behind you!” I yell to her, but I freeze as the man hits her and knocks her to the ground. I let out a yelp as I turned to try to get help but a sharp pain hits my skull and everything goes black. 

—-

“Y/N, can you hear me?” A voice comes from above me and a wave of nausea washes over me. My eyes open and close a dozen times trying to get used to the bright light before I can focus on the person in front of me. Elena Gilbert. Why is Elena Gilbert in my bedroom?  I mean she’s really pretty and all I just thought she had a boyfriend. I’m not a homewrecker. 

“Oh thank god you’re awake!” Elena whisper-yells to me as she brushes a piece of my hair behind my head and grimaces when she looks at my forehead. She brings her hand back and a wave of fear and disgust washes over me as I see her hand covered in a red liquid. Blood. My blood. I try to bring my hand up but Elena stops me.

“Don’t exert yourself we don’t want it to bleed more, okay?” She gives me a small smile but something about it makes me feel uneasy. I don’t understand why until I turn my gaze away from her and look at our surroundings. Dirt-covered walls, glass-covered floors, and a mildew stench are what take focus. I’ve always been sensitive to smells but with the addition of my raging migraine, I am fighting the urge to keep down the rising bile in my throat. 

My breathing starts to quicken and I can feel the start of a panic attack starting to make an appearance. 

“Elena, where are we?” I wouldn’t be surprised if she didn’t understand what I was saying since my words seemed to be jumbling together. 

Elena glances around us and gives me a solemn look.

“I don’t know, I woke up here a little while ago before I was knocked back out by the people that took us. I’m truly sorry about this Y/N, I would never wish for you to be a part of this.”

I furrow my eyebrows at her last comment as if she were responsible for the reason we were taken.

“It’s not your fault,” I shake my head and start tapping my fingers together one by one. It’s a thing I do whenever my anxiety gets too strong, almost as a way to ground me. 

Elena’s eyebrows mirror mine and she goes to say something but a young man with shaggy hair walks in.

“Oh goody, the other ones awake. How are you doing sleeping beauty?” 

The man starts to walk over to me with a look in his eyes that makes the bile in my throat inch even closer to the surface. But within another second Elena stands from beside me on what I can see now is a couch and blocks me from the man’s view.

“I’m the one you want, Y/N is innocent, just let her go.” 

I want to back Elena up and defend her too but with the migraine and the onslaught of emotions I’m feeling right now being verbal isn’t something I see happening in my current future. 

“You’re right Dopalicious, she’s not, but I can’t just let her go, what if she were to go and warn those friends of yours? Can’t let that happen now can we?” 

Elena goes to stand her ground but within a blink of an eye, Elena is shoved backward and lands on the other side of the couch. I jump backward at the action which gives the man the opportunity to come in front of me. I start trembling as I look up to him I try to push farther back into the couch but I’m squished into it as far as I can go. 

“Stay away from me,” Finally able to find somewhat of my voice again. This doesn’t seem to scare away the man, and honestly, I don’t blame him. My voice sounded like it came from a scared 5-year-old. 

“Just a taste, I’m starving.” My mouth opens to question what he says but a millisecond later I feel myself being grabbed and a sharp piercing attacks the left side of my neck. I’m hyperventilating and screaming at the same time somehow as I hear Elena’s yells from beside us. 

“Don’t touch her!” Elena’s yell comes from beside us and I’m thrown away back onto the couch. I’m disorientated as I look up to see the man before me rubbing his cheek and Elena standing next to him holding her right hand. She’d punched him. My vision strays from Elena’s red knuckles back up to the man, who has something dripping from his mouth. My chest feels like it locks up as I stare at the liquid dripping, everything seems to be going in slow motion for me as I watch the drops start at the man's chapped lips to the drops of blood falling onto the cracked hardwood floors. Wait, blood. He has blood dripping from his mouth. Had Elena punched him that hard? I start to believe that possibility until I feel a wetness drip between my chest. 

My already shaking hand comes up to my chest as I swipe a finger along the liquid. My vision blurs as the red liquid drips from my fingertip down into the palm of my hand. I can’t register Elena’s voice as she kneels in front of me and presses something to my neck. The blood coating my hand is all I can see and smell. 

“Y/N….Y/N! Just focus on my voice ok, breathe. I think you’re having a panic attack.” A cool hand is pressed onto the side of my face and I close my eyes at the embrace. 

“Ok that’s good, I’m going to stand you up to get a better look at your neck ok?” 

I feel like I’m running on auto-pilot or something else is controlling my body and mind as I stand up and grip Elena’s upper arms to keep myself steady. Elena returns the pink fabric from my neck and leans down to glance at the wound.

“Ok, it’s not as bad as I had originally thought. Just keep this here and it’ll help control the bleeding.” 

I must still be in shock because Elena has to bring the shirt to my hand, wrap my fingers around it, and finally press my hand into my neck. The shock of pain washes through me and brings me back to reality. My vision can’t seem to focus on one thing for too long as my eyes keep darting from the blood on the floor, my blood, to the look on Elena’s face, to the man standing behind us with a scowl on his ugly face. Blood, Elena, man. Blood, Elena, man. Blood, Elena, man. This sequence continues until another person enters the room, a woman.

“He’s here.” The woman with a pixie cut says, her voice seemingly scared.

The man next to us shifts his scowl into a look of pure fear.

“This was a mistake,” He rushes over to the woman and shakes his head. 

“No, I told you I would get us out of this. You have to trust me,” She tries to talk him down which only seems to freak him out more.

“No! He wants me dead Rose,”

The woman points at Elena, “He wants her more.” I glance to Elena who is standing in front of me slightly as if to hide me from the two strangers or cannibals. Since I’ve calmed down momentarily and I’ve begun to stop the tears that had unbeknownst to me had fallen on my cheeks, I’ve realized that I’ve been kidnapped by cannibals, that being the only reasonable explanation I can come up with.

The two cannibals start arguing about some man but I turn to Elena who looks almost as scared as I feel. 

“What’s going on Elena, who’s coming?” I whisper to her.

Elena turns her head slightly to me and gives me a frown and a shake of her head. 

“A man named Elijah, but don’t worry ok,” Elena grabs my free hand and holds it in her own, “I’m not going to let them hurt you anymore ok?”

I nod trying to find comfort in her words but the girl in front of me is 17 years old and maybe 120 pounds I don’t see how she’s going to protect us both from two cannibals and whatever mega cannibal these two are terrified of. I don’t know if the other guy is a cannibal but using context clues I’m guessing he is. 

“What are we?” The woman’s voice brings my attention back to them as I see her grab his arms. This seems to calm the man down. 

“We’re family. Forever.” 

I might’ve found this endearing if it weren’t for the fact the man had my blood drying on his upper lip and they were literal cannibals. 

A loud knock startles all four of us as Elena and I both shoot each other wary glances. Our hands are still intertwined. I don’t usually like being touched but given the circumstances I can let this slide. 

The woman looks over at Elena and me as Elena slightly turns her head, “You’re scared.” Elena comments. The woman says something else to her friend and then runs up the stairs 

—

What seems like forever of waiting and pacing around is broken up by footsteps coming from the top of the banister. I can feel Elena freeze up from beside me as we both look up to see a man in a suit staring down at her. The man has dark hair and eyes and a chiseled face. Why is this cannibal not ugly? Wrong Turn had it all wrong. We all stand there watching Elena and the suited cannibal stare at each other. I can feel Elena’s shaking hand in my own and try to comfort her by squeezing her hand to let her know I’m right beside her. That is until the man transports himself from the top of the banister to in front of Elena in the blink of an eye. The movement has me losing my balance and falling back onto the couch. 

No one seems to notice me as my panic attack starts to build up as I try to understand how this is possible. How could he have been that fast, it’s impossible. Oh god, I'm going to throw up. 

“And who is this?” A deep voice comes from above me and my stomach flips at the sound. Defiantly going to throw up. 

“She’s no one. She has nothing to do with this, just please leave her alone.” 

Hearing Elena’s voice makes me raise my head and I regret it instantly because I lock eyes with the suited monster who is now standing above me staring down at me. The man’s face instantly goes slack as his eyes meet mine, a look of recognition seems to pass through his dark eyes as they move fast across my face. The man opens and closes his mouth many times as if he can’t quite find the right words to say. The slack expression from before softens into something that makes my stomach flip again. This guy is so going to kill me when I throw up on his expensive ass shoes. His soft, dark pink lips curve up at the corners slightly.

“You’re real.” 

These are the first words to come out of the man’s mouth. Everyone else in the room seems to know just as much as me with what he’s talking about because they all have looks of confusion on their faces. Feels somewhat comforting to be on the same page as everyone else for once. 

The man doesn’t once take his eyes off of me this entire time though, “What is your name, Elskan?” 

I freeze under his stare and try to avert my eyes, this gives Elena the ability to step in for me. 

“Her name is Y/N,” I look to the man as he mouths my name slightly to himself as if he wants to know how it sounds on his tongue, “Please don’t hurt her Elijah, she doesn’t even know about the supernatural, I’ll go with you willingly.” 

Elena’s words make me freeze up. What does she mean by supernatural? I flinch as the man, Elijah, brings his hand up. This stops him for a moment. 

“I would never harm you. You have my word on that.” I can only sit there frozen as he cups my face with his hand and uses his thumb to brush a stray tear away that must’ve fallen during one of my many panic attacks. He seems delighted at the moment until the soft expression he has on his face darkens into something that makes that bile rise even farther up. His eyes dart from the top of my head and drag themselves down to my chest and neck. I try to move away but his hand has a soft but firm hold on my face. 

“Who did this to you?” 

My eyebrows furrow at his question, and I must’ve not answered quickly enough because he turns to glare at Elena. Which makes her flinch.

“The head injury is from the kidnapping and then the bite is from um,” she glances towards my neck and then to Trevor who looks like he’s about to internally combust. She goes silent again at Elijah’s stare and he turns his attention back towards me. The glare was long gone and replaced once again with a softer look.

“I see. Here,” I have to swallow back down the bile as I watch the man rip into his wrist and put it in front of my face expectantly. I sit there in horror and quickly look to Elena who doesn’t look as surprised as she defiantly should given that this man just BIT HIMSELF. 

“It’s true Y/N, it’ll heal you.” 

I open my mouth to say something which must’ve somehow been an ok to the man as he presses his wrist to my open mouth. I’m about to push him off, or at least try, but stop at the heavenly liquid that spills into my mouth. Elijah brings his other hand up to brush back my fallen hair.

  “Good girl, Elskan.” 

Elijah removes his wrist and I sit there silently staring at my lap as I realize what I had just done. I just drank fucking blood, and I liked it?!??! Oh god, does this make me a cannibal now?

Elijah seems to be fighting an inner battle as he moves his eyes away from mine and onto the man behind us. Elena and I watch before us as Elijah approaches the scared man/cannibal thing. Thing because I’m not sure what the actual hell is going on here. 

“I’ve waited so long for this day, Elijah. Truly very sorry.” 

Trevor says with a bowed head as Elijah circles him. Almost how a predator would circle its prey. 

“Well, no, your apology is not necessary,” Elijah responds but something in his tone doesn’t sit right with me.

“Yes, yes it is. You trusted me with Katerina. And I failed you.”

“Well, yes, you are the guilty one,” Elijah glances at him and then up to the woman, “And Rose aided you because she was loyal to you. That I honor…”

Elijah comes to stand in front of the man, “Where was your loyalty?”

“I beg your forgiveness.”

The oxygen in the room seems to be dwindling as everyone watches the interaction.

“So granted.” 

The deep breath I was to let out is replaced by a scream and I can only watch in horror as Elijah throws his hand over to the man who decapitates him. A heart-wrenching wail comes from Rose and I can’t seem to take my eyes away from the body-less head that is lying in front of me. 

“I’m going to-” Vomit spits from my mouth and onto the floor in front of me, the burning from the back of my throat causes tears to build up and block my vision. I feel someone lift my hand and hold it away from my face. For a second I thought it was Elena before Elijah’s voice came from beside me.

“I’m truly sorry, Elskan. I shouldn’t have done that in front of you.” 

I lift my head to stare at him and find him kneeling right next to me. He reaches into his front pocket grabs a fancy napkin and wipes my mouth with it. Not seeming disgusted just saddened. He wraps his hand in my mind and stands me up. 

“We can leave now, we have quite the journey ahead of us,” Elijah leads me over to where Elena is standing and motions for her to follow.

“No! What about the moonstone?” She questions him.

He stands in front of her with a small scowl, “What do you know about the moonstone?”

“I know that you need it. And I know where it is. I can help you get it”

Elijah nods his head, “Tell me where it is.” 

“It doesn’t work that way.”

Elijah’s eyebrow twitches in annoyance as he glances back at Rose, “Are you negotiating with me?”

Rose just shakes her head and tells him she doesn’t know anything. Elijah then turns back around to stare at Elena for a moment before scowling and reaching up to her necklace, ripping it off. 

“What is this vervain doing around your neck,” He throws the necklace behind him and grabs Elena by the neck, dropping my hand in the process. I go to try to get her away but Elijah shoots me a warning look that has me freezing in place, “Tell me where the moonstone is.”

In a monotone voice, Elena replies, “In the tomb underneath the church ruins.”

“What is it doing there?”

“It’s with Kathrine.”

The rest of their interaction is cut short when a glass shatters from somewhere upstairs. Elijah comes over to me and grabs me by my waist bringing me into him almost protectively. 

“What was that?” He asks Rose.

“I don’t know.”

“Who else is in this house?’’ To which he gets the same response. 

Elijah grabs Elena quite harshly with his free hand and guides both of us to the top of the banister. His hand never moved from the top of my hip. Once we make it to the entryway something rushes by us, Elijah pushes Elena off into Rose’s arms but never drops his hold on me. 

“Up here.”

“Down Here.”

A voice call from the top and bottom of the stairs caught all of our attention. Elijah lifts his hand from my hip and motions for me to go over to Rose.

“Don’t let her out of your sight.” He warns her as he moves to the staircase. 

A moment goes by before something flies through the air and pierces itself through Elijah’s hand. I let out a yelp but Elijah doesn’t even seem fazed. 

My vision is blurred for a moment as I now standing next to Rose with an unfamiliar dark-haired man in front of us. He motions with his finger to be quiet. Ya as if I was going to say anything anyway. 

“Excuse me,” Elijah’s voice comes from below, “To whom it may concern. You’re making a grave mistake if you think that you can beat me. And you can’t. You hear that? I repeat, you cannot beat me. So I want the girls on the count of three, or heads will roll.” 

The man who has his hands on Rose’s and I’s mouths moves his head to glance at Elijah downstairs. 

“Do we understand each other?” 

“I’ll come with you,” I perk up at Elena’s voice. Wondering what the actual hell she was doing. But the blue-eyed man in front of me shakes his head at me telling me not to move. 

“Just please don’t hurt my friends. They just wanted to help me out.”

“What game are you playing with me? Where is Y/N? I won’t be leaving without her.” Elijah’s skeptical voice questions her. There’s a sound a medal, and then a loud boom,  before Elijah lets out a yell. The sound for some reason makes my chest feel like it wants to cave in on itself. Rustling and fighting sounds come from below us before the man holding Rose and I leave. Rose runs after him, but I can’t seem to get my feet to work so I just sit there on the dusty floor staring at the wall peeling wallpaper in front of me. 

A few moments pass before I hear Elena’s voice along with two unfamiliar men, one who I’m assuming is the blue-eyed guy from before. 

“Where is Y/N,” Elena asks.

“Are you talking about that girl that smells like vomit?” A snarky voice questions her. If I hadn’t just gotten kidnapped and had one of the worst days of my life, I might take offense but I did just get kidnapped and honestly, I do smell like vomit so he’s not wrong. 

“I think she’s over there.” 

Footsteps get closer to me as I look up with tears in my eyes at Elena. She gives me a small smile before kneeling and wrapping her arms around me in a hug. 

“What is happening Elena?” 

“I’ll explain everything if you want me to ok? Let’s just get out of here first ok?”

Elena stands up and reaches down her hand for me to take, and with a deep breath, I do.

[applejuicefruit]

Neymar being protective over reader when a man tried to harass her please?💜💜

Hii! Thank you for requesting this ⭐️

I hope you like it ⭐️

tw: panic attack, touching without consent, harassment

My sunshine

You and Neymar started dating a year ago. You met when you moved to Paris and he couldn’t help but feeling attracted to you. Not just your beauty, he loved everything about you. Your shyness. Your kindness. Everything.

You were the perfect opposites.

You were shy and introvert, you hated parties, loud music and alcohol. Your ideal saturday night was staying at home with junk food and movies. Alone. Just enjoying that night for yourself.

He, on the other side, wasn’t shy. He liked to party. He was known for throwing big parties. His ideal saturday night was getting wasted at the club and dancing till morning came. Of course, when he didn’t have any match.

This time you had to go with him though. He thrown a birthday party for one of his best friend and he wanted you there. You tried to convince him to stay home but he wouldn’t listen, he wanted you to go. So you had no choice.

You wore a long grey dress, not to revealing, a pair of black boots and a leather jacket. You were nervous but tried to act normal.

“You look gorgeous meu amor” he said kissing your cheek.

You said nothing but smiled a little.

You left home and went straight to the club.

When you arrived you could already sense your anxiety rising.

“Just a couple of hours and then we’ll go home” Neymar said in your ear and you smiled at him.

Neymar tried to keep you close to him as much as he could but eventually he went dancing with his friends and, knowing you weren’t comfortable he said nothing, he kissed you on the cheek and left you there. All alone. In a huge place with people you didn’t know.

You went straight to sit on a black leather couch you saw a little bit away from the crowd and began to drink your water to calm yourself down a bit.

After 20 minutes Neymar was still dancing and you couldn’t help but smile at seeing him so happy.

But everything changed when a man sat next to you with a glass of wine in hand.

“What is doing a pretty little thing here all alone?” he asked trying to flirt with you.

You began to panic a bit.

“Nothing” you said with a firm voice

“Why don’t we go to dance?” he asked you

“No I’m fine thank you”

“Okay…do you wanna leave? I know a place where we could go”

“No I’ll stay here”

“You sure?” he asked now putting a hand on your arm. You flinched a little. You didn’t like when people touched you out of nothing.

“Yes I’m sure but you can go if you want to”

“Nahhh…I’ll stay here” he said while his hand was going to your breast. You were feeling so uncomfortable but you didn’t know what to do. You tried to look for Neymar but he couldn’t see you.

“If you’ll excuse me, I have to use the restroom” you said standing up and left.

You didn’t know where you were going as the place was huge and your eyes were glossy full of tears.

Once you got in the corridor you started crying and you held your self to the wall because you couldn’t stand up straight.

You were having a panic attack and no one was there to help you. Neymar wasn’t there.

You tried to calm yourself down but couldn’t concentrate. Too many thoughts invading your head.

“Here you are” the man of before said to you when he found you “are you okay baby? You want to get out of here?” he asked and you couldn’t help but feeling disgusted at how he tried to get into your pants when you weren’t clearly thinking straight

“No i’m good”

“C’mon I’ll help you” he said putting his hands around your waist

“No let me go…”

“Don’t be brat I just want to help you” he said while his hand went back straight to your breast.

“Don’t touch me…” you said trying to fight back but he wouldn’t leave you alone

“I know you want this” he said kissing your neck and you couldn’t help but feeling dirty.

He tried to lift your dress up when a pair of hands removed him from your body. It was Neymar.

You were sto tired of everything that you let yourself falling on the ground.

“Don’t you dare to touch her again” Neymar shouted while punching the guy right in the face

“Ney-Neymar I’m so sorry” the guy said before leaving.

You couldn’t stop crying.

Your head on your knees.

Ney ’s heart broke at the sight of you.

“Meu amor…can I pick you up?” he asked kneeling in front of you.

You said no.

You didn’t want anybody to touch you, not even your boyfriend.

“Okay…” he said softly

“I wanna go home” you whispered and he nodded.

You stood up by yourself and went straight into the car, Ney following you behind.

You didn’t spoke the whole ride. Too shocked to even say a word.

When you got home you went straight into the shower, letting the hot water cleaning your body. You felt dirty. You kept rubbing your skin until it turned red. You washed yourself but you didn’t feel clean, at all.

You got out of the shower and wore a black comfy pajamas and went to bed.

You saw Neymar laid on the bed waiting for you.

“Babe? Can we talk about it?” he asked

“I’d rather not”

“Baby…I’m so sorry I let this happen to you, I should have been there”

“It’s not your fault Neyney” you said and he smiled when you called him by nickname

“I should have been with you the whole night”

“Neymar, you had every right to have fun…you’re not my babysitter”

“No but I’m your boyfriend and I’m meant to protect you…”

“Ney…” you said putting your head on his shoulder “can you hug me?” you asked in a soft voice

He smiled and hugged you “I just wished it didn’t happen”

“Me too…” you whispered and he kissed your neck “I just wished I didn’t feel so dirty” you said completely breaking down

“Ehi no baby…no, don’t think like that, it wasn’t your fault, my sunshine, my beautiful sunshine, don’t ever think like that again okay? It wasn’t your fault…” he said keeping you close while you cried. You couldn’t even reply because of the tears. He started singing a soft brazilian song to help you calm down. Eventually you did. You fell asleep right there in his arms, while he was still singing to you. You wished you could stay there forever, in his arms, while feeling safe and protected.

[delilahcalicocat]

Can i request a Cody Rhodes x reader where reader gets attacked by a WWE worker while entering Cody's bus but Pharaoh saves her by attacking the worker. Reader then tries to hide it from Cody but he finds out from the medical team who treated reader, Cody then goes after that worker.

A/N: Of course! Thank you for asking! <3

💙~No One messes with her~❤️

{Rating: Fluff}

{Warnings: Crying, Mentions of blood, Harassment, Fighting, Injury, Panic, Dog attacks, Biting}

{Pairing: Cody Rhodes x Fem!Reader}

RAW had just ended, you snuck away to get back to Cody's bus to slip out of your uncomfortable heels

Cody was always very worried about you, he didn't notice you'd left until Jey caught on to it.

You went to climb the bus stairs, until someone's hand gripped your ankle.

Your heart sank to your stomach when you saw it was Axel, the weirdest WWE Crew Member ever.

He was always obsessed with you no matter how much you said you weren't interested.

He cut your arm with a knife he had, you were panicked.

You thought of how to escape this, you truly thought this was how you'd die.

Until you remembered the bus door was open.

You looked towards the door and shouted

"Pharaoh!" As you finished the sentence, the big white dog rushed towards the man you'd been attacked by.

The dog bit the man a couple times until he ran off.

You patted Pharaoh on the head and put him back in the bus.

By the time you'd gotten Pharaoh back in the bus for safety, Jey Uso and Sami Zayn had found you.

They immediately snuck you past the backstage party so Cody wouldn't notice and you'd be treated for your injury.

You'd been bleeding from the arm pretty decently by the time you were sat down to get help

After 20 stitches, you were allowed to leave the medical office.

You then went to Cody

"Hey! I'm back from the bathroom-" You spoke

"Uh.. Y/N, why are you wearing your thick sweater? Didn't you literally say it was too hot for it a couple hours ago?" He asked

"Oh.. I got a little cold from the Air conditioner on the way back" You lied

"Whatever- I'll be right back, I have to go check on Pharaoh-" He said

You tried not to panic but decided to stay there, Jey and Sami were right next to you. It was too dangerous to go back outside.

Meanwhile, Cody was headed towards the exit until a girl from medical caught his attention

"Uh, Mr.Rhodes! Your girlfriend Y/N got attacked, she received 20 stitches-" the girl spoke

"What. Y/N got fucking attacked?!" You heard his voice from down the hall

"Oh Shit, Y/N you should probably go-" Jey spoke

"Yeah, I'm gonna go.." You groaned running Down the hallway

You found Cody standing by the exit, fuming.

"Cody!" You spoke

"Y/N. Explain what the actual fuck happened." Cody Said

"Oh.. Cody, I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I went to get my other shoes because my heels were killing my feet but instead I got attacked by That weird Crew member.. if it weren't for Pharaoh, I would've got hurt worse.." You spoke with tears welling in your eyes

"Axel.. Fucking attacked you, and you didn't tell me?" He questioned

"I was fucking panicked and this kind of shit scares me Codes.." You sighed

"It's fine. I'm just glad Pharaoh defended and saved you." Cody spoke

He walked you out to his bus and told you to stay there with Pharaoh.

You sat down, a million thoughts racing through your mind

Cody walked back inside the building

"Hey, Jey. You seen Axel round?" He asked

"I think I saw him go that way." Sami Said pointing towards the hall to Cody's left

"Thanks Sami." Cody said walking down said hall

It didn't take long to find Axel, Cody then started a fight with Axel.

Luckily Axel didn't have his knife, because it was taken from your arm by medical

Before Cody got pulled off Axel by Jey and You, Cody managed to give Axel a bloody nose.

"Jesus, Calm down man." Jey said

"No one messes with my girl." Cody said

"Ok I understand that, but you Finna bout to get in trouble Uce." Jey said

"Come on troublemaker, let's get back to the bus before anything else happens" you said, adjusting Cody's tie

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for calling my mother and MIL selfish, insecure, pieces of shit over a friend's necklace?

Some background: I, 25F, just married the love of my life, who we'll call J.

I was introduced to J in our junior year of high school by our mutual friend, who we'll call G. G has always been a super important person to us. She is one of our best friends, and the three of us are very close. She was actually the first person we told when we started dating. We are both pretty protective over G, as she is autistic and has crippling anxiety and struggles a lot day to day. She was actually living with us when this story occurred because she had been spiraling on her own, and her parents lived too far for her to commute to her work from their house. She's been in therapy for years and has been doing a lot better than when we first met her, but we still tend to be pretty protective over her, as she has very few friends besides us. We often joke that she's our practice kid because she goes everywhere with us and has a complete lack of common sense despite being one of the smartest people I know.

In the last week of our junior year, J gave me, G, and another friend of his, necklaces that he made. They were nothing fancy, just pieces of rocks that he carved (?) and tied a string around, but G loved it. It acted as a reminder that she had people who cared about her when her anxiety spiked, and she's worn it almost every day for the last 9 years, to the point where J replaced the string with a thin chain because it broke from use. It's a comfort item, and wearing it is part of her routine.

Another important thing to note is that J and I both have pretty bad relationships with all of our parents. Both of our parents are messily divorced, and the only ones we visit regularly are my dad and stepmom. We still decided to invite all of them to the wedding and involve our mom's in the wedding party to avoid drama, and because some small part of me still wanted my mom to be involved in my wedding like a real parent.

Shortly before our wedding, I was talking to my mom and J's mom in our kitchen about some details for the wedding party and the bridesmaid and groomsmen accessories. I made a joke that no matter what we picked, G would be wearing her necklace. They wanted to know what I meant, and while I was explaining, G came into the kitchen to grab a snack. (Side note: neither of them like G, and my mom in particular has made several abelist comments in the past about her stimming or lack of social awareness) When I was done, my mom turned to G and asked if she was going to wear it at our wedding. Confused, G said yes, and my mom lost it. She called her disrespectful and accused her of trying to break up me and J because J gave her that necklace, and it was bad manners to wear a present from the groom or something. J's mom backed her up and said a lot of awful things I won't repeat, but were really abelist, arophobic (G is open about being aromantic), and included several slurs.

I was completely blindsided. I knew they had those awful opinions, but I had never heard them do anything even remotely close, and I sat there stunned at first until G started to cry and hyperventilate (she has trauma around situations similar to this, and she was already on edge because of a recent death in her family). When that happened, it was like a switch flipped. I got between G and my mom, who at this point had gotten out of her seat and was getting close to G. I told them both to get out, and when they refused I told them they were selfish, insecure, pieces of shit, that they had no right to say any of that to G, and that just because they couldn't keep their husband's didn't mean they had any right to interfere and try to create problems where there weren't any.

At this point, J came home and saw G panicking and immediately reacted. He told our moms to leave, and this time, they left. After they left, it took us almost 2 hours to calm G down from her panic attack, and the whole time, I was boiling with rage over the interaction. After she fell asleep, I told J what had happened. He was completely on my side, and we even discussed banning them from the wedding unless they apologized. G has been far more supportive of us than they have been, and if I had to choose, I would rather have her by my side on my wedding day. Ultimately, we let G decide since she was the one they went after, and she said she would be okay, so they came to the wedding and thankfully didn't mention the necklace at all. However, they told our respective families what happened, and I've been getting texts from family members telling me I went too far in bringing up their divorces, and that I should apologize, especially since the fight was over something as small as a necklace.

I don't think I was wrong to defend G, but I know I tend to overreact in situations where she is involved, and J is as bad as I am. So, AITA?

What are these acronyms?

[ncteez]

beloved🥹 for ur sleepover could you perhaps consider #96 from that list (“I had this dream and- fuck- you couldn’t keep your hands of me.”) & vernon🫶 congrats on the 6k again you’re so talented and deserve the world and i’m so glad ur here🫶 - 🍿 x

Vernon + “I had this dream and- fuck- you couldn’t keep your hands off me.” 

wordcount: 3.1k

tags: stoner!vernon, stoner!afab reader, clearly the use of smoking weed, awkward best friends who only share their attractions to each other when they’re zooted as fuck, no joke– weed is a personality trait in this. 

warnings: mentions of anxiety and panic attacks. 

note: hi my popped p(ussy)opcorn anon! i was rly excited to write this so i hope you like it even tho i went kinda overboard. not proof read, as you know. 

~

You’re not entirely sure how you became so close with Vernon, the guy in highschool who definitely carried his lunch back to class in his pockets. Maybe it’s because college is hard, and Vernon is easy to be around. Kind of like a breath of fresh air except all the air you breathe in with him happens to be incredibly thick with smoke.

Never in your life did you consider weed as a personality trait. Not yours, anyway, until Vernon is around you. Honestly, it’s like being a burn-out during your down time is actually quite relaxing, as long as you keep up with your GPA and assignments, there’s nothing wrong with wake n’ baking. Or like, taking a few hits before a big exam to calm the anxious energy inside of you, right? 

The thing is, it’s gotten to the point that you’ve smoked in all sorts of scenarios and find the least anxiety ridden experience to be the one where it’s just you and him, sitting outside of his shitty apartment and pretending like every college kid within a six mile radius can’t sniff the two of you out.

Peer pressure be damned, Vernon was the first one to ever pass you a joint at a random party you both happened to attend. You didn’t really know why you grabbed it because you swore to yourself that you’d be straight edge until you get a degree, and then you’d maybe try buying a bottle of vodka and a sack of weed just to see what you missed out on. It was something about that night, your first college party, the first familiar face at a party, and the urge to say fuck it. 

You didn’t mean to actually inhale it, but somehow it was a natural thing your body did and Vernon didn’t even laugh at you for choking. That’s when you became friends with him, and ultimately over the months the two of you would often run into the other. 

Your first weed-induced panic attack was at a party with him, and he was honestly so fast to get you out of there without so much as knowing where you needed to go. Calming you down and very aware that you probably smoked too much, and had a little too much to drink as well. The weed wasn’t laced, he said, the alcohol wasn’t spiked, he assured. Somehow, and someway, his fried ass got you through it and the night ended much better as the two of you sat in a random person’s back yard picking their grass and talking about gods, and universes, and the theory of giants roaming the earth in ancient times. 

By now, he should know you don’t prefer the parties. It doesn’t stop him from trying to include you every single time though. Tonight was just another invitation, one in which you declined. 

Why? Smoking around other people isn’t fun. It makes you paranoid and uncomfortable. Being hit on ruins the fun too. Plus, the music is almost always trash. 

Vernon: why won’t you come?

You: you know i don’t like smoking in groups

Vernon: but free weed :( 

You: just bring some over when you’re done doing whatever you wanna do.

The way he does just that. Appearing at your door a mere four hours after he told you he was leaving for the party and smiling at you with already reddened eyes. 

“Free weed,” He starts, patting his jacket pocket and then stepping inside. “And snacks.” He adds, revealing a bag from behind him that contains the majority of snacks the two of you tend to gravitate toward. 

“God, just how much did you spend on the food?” You laugh, reaching for the bag and peeking inside. “Wait, why are you trying to butter me up?”

He scratches his ankle with his socked feet for a moment, avoiding eye contact with you and then shrugs again. 

“Because you’re my best friend?”

“Vernon, you never buy the snacks.” You narrow your eyes at him.

Another shrug before he defensively pulls the bag back, only to immediately toss it onto your counter and make himself at home in your living room. 

“Seungcheol disappeared with someone for a while and forgot that I know where his stash is.” He says, pulling out the little bag of definitely stolen weed. “I’ll pay him back later.”

You make your way next to him, immediately smelling the scent.

“How does he always manage to find the good stuff?” You ask with a chuckle, reaching forward to grab the candle lighter from your coffee table. 

“Fuck if I know.” Vernon is too focused on inspecting the buds he managed to pluck out of the original stash then turns to you. “Bong or blunt?” 

You look around. 

“Well, we aren’t at your place so unless you want to get kicked out of school I suggest we just roll a blunt and step out on the patio.”

Obviously, he’s already high and probably forgot that your place isn’t his, or that his place isn’t also yours.

“Smart girl. Always keeping me on the right path.” He compliments with a nod and a smile. “Do you have any wraps?”

That, you do. Because of course you do.

“Mango good?”

A nod. 

And you know, Vernon never was good at rolling blunts but they all smoked the same anyway. You didn’t mind the small bud leaves sticking to your lips by the time half of the blunt was smoked and you’re all curled up on the patio with your best friend beside you. 

It’s kind of weird, actually, how many times you’ve been high out of your mind and looked at him like this. It’s probably because the two of you always smoke together in the early morning or when the moon is out. You still remember the first time you looked at him this way. 

You crashed at his house after a particularly bad party and he woke you up from the couch that next morning offering a parting gift before he walked you home. After all, it was only a few streets away. His hair was a fucking mess, and his eyes were so drowsy with sleep that you could tell that he was even more groggy than you were to be awake. The morning sun burned his eyes, and likewise for you. You could see them glisten through the pain of light penetrating his pupils, and you could hear the way his nails scratched at his bed head after a winded stretch. His oversized hoodie offering the look of a particularly comfortably, but pissed off best friend for waking up so early. 

The smoke inhaled more smoothly that morning, and his smile seemed a little brighter than usual too. 

Right now, as you look at him, he’s in that exact same oversized hoodie with a beanie covering the hair he likely decided not to brush today. Despite a party, despite being out and about, he’s just….Vernon. With his febreze scented everything to hide the smell of his burn-out ways, and his stupid eyes that are always glassy and offering a watery, sparkly look. 

“What the fuck are you looking at?” He half-giggles under the discomfort of your gaze. Feeling a little insecure, in all honesty. 

“Oh, sorry.” You shake your head in a way to shake your thoughts of the constant fondness you feel for him. You’re not entirely comprehending that you admire him, you just happen to like noticing things. “I zoned out.”

“I can see that.” He smiles, turning away from you and facing the night sky. “It’s muggy out here, we should go back inside. We can finish the rest of this later?”

You nod, staring him down. Only he would wear a fucking hoodie in humid ass weather like this summer offers. He should know by now that even at night, it feels disgusting outside. 

It’s silent save for a few laughs as the two of you make your way back inside. The air conditioner hits your skin in a wonderful way, bringing goose bumps and causing you to let out a small shiver. 

“So much better,” You nearly sing-song out as you flop yourself down on the couch, your body feeling that familiar heavy feeling. “Do you think Seungcheol has noticed by now that you stole his weed?”

“Nah, he usually gives me some anyway since I’m always sharing with him.”

That’s fair. Still, the whole idea of stealing it felt dangerously funny and weirdly attractive. 

“Thanks for coming over by the way, I’m glad you weren’t too tired.” You smile, zoning out entirely by now.

Vernon hums out a response, now flopping down next to you and just lying there to feel the high he’s always chasing. 

The silence is short lived though, as he starts laughing out at nothing. You turn to look at him, waiting for some sort of joke or explanation of what he’s thinking about. 

“What’re you thinking about?” You say, almost laughing with him because it’s kind of contagious. 

“I just, like, it’s so stupid actually–” He starts, laughing out a breathy type of laugh and then taking in a breath to be able to speak again. “I was just thinking about how like, I had this dream the other day and it was literally just my old communications professor running away on stilts.”

Okay, now, hold on. That image is actually hilarious and it kind of sends you into a laughing fit too.

“What the fuck?” You laugh, wondering what he must be thinking about all the time to have dreams like that. “I never have funny dreams, mine are always scary or like…”

You trail off in a very obvious way, but thankfully Vernon isn’t amazing at finishing your thoughts or picking up on hints as to what you may have been about to say. 

Until like, fucking now apparently. 

“Oooooh,” He laughs, looking away from you. “You got a spicy dream to share?”

Man, you’ve got plenty but probably none that he’d be too interested to hear about. 

“Nah, nothing of note to really mention.” You say back, the laughing fit calming itself within you. 

“Well, that’s some bullshit. I have some pretty wild dreams, the sex ones can be kind of funny too.” 

Oh, your ears perk up. 

“What’s the funniest one you’ve ever had?” You ask, narrowing your eyes at him. 

“There was this one time I had a dream about Mingyu’s cousin.” 

You dead-pan stare at him in shock.

“I’m gonna tell on you.” You say, but he completely brushes you off.

“No! I mean, it’s not like I enjoyed it actively, but whoever I was in that dream was really going to town. I mean I was like, man–” He pauses, remembering the dream. “I’m pretty sure my dick was crying when I woke up because if I remember correctly, she was gnawing on it like a piece of beef jerky.” 

You snort and roll your eyes. 

“You’re totally the type to get off on some weird shit like that. Oh my god. Do you ever have a normal dream? Or like, a normal thought for that matter?”

He stares at you and you swear you can see his cheeks fan over with a blush. 

“Well….” He says, trailing off. “I mean, yeah. Of course I do, but you seem to like the funny ones the most.”

“Okay, then try and tell me a normal one and let’s see how it goes.”

Normal to Vernon may not be normal to you, but also he can’t tell if you’re referring to a sex dream or not. He’s not entirely the type to shy away despite feeling a little shy. 

“Sex dream or non sex dream?”

You think hard about which type of dream you want him to describe to you (no you don’t.)

“Sex dream.” 

He smiles, flicking his eyes to the bag of snacks on the table but opting to give it some more time before he starts eating like a damn goblin. 

“Let me think of one, hold on.” 

You sit there patiently, which probably doesn’t look very patient considering you quite literally turn your entire body to face him and rest your chin on your palm as if you’re expecting some inception styled sex or something. 

“Um…” He trials off, remembering very little of most of his sex dreams besides, well, the one he had of you. But to be fair most of them are about you, and he sees you so often that they’re kind of hard to forget. 

He can’t just tell you that though. He might be fucking zooted but he’s not an idiot. 

“Last week I had this dream about you.” 

Okay, maybe he’s an idiot. 

“Oh? Me?” You adjust your posture even more to that of interest, for no reason other than curiosity. You’re a bit flattered. 

“Yeah but that’s probably not one you wanna hear. There’s also one I had about–” Right, that one was about you too. “Or maybe…” Still about you.

You narrow your eyes.

“Just tell me the damn dream. I wanna know if I was any good.”

Vernon, for the first time in what feels like years, is experiencing extreme awkwardness. Nervousness. Dare he say, anxiety. Probably because of the way you blink at him with some type of expectation for this to be totally normal. Definitely a situation where he shouldn’t be feeling shy or even slightly turned on simply for thinking about all of those dreams he pretended he never had when you were with him.

Why did he have to tell you about this? Because now he has to actually tell you about it.

You watch him and the way he’s acting, noting that glimpse of nervousness and reaching forward to clap your hand on his knee. 

“Vernon, it was a dream, it’s not that big of a deal. You’ve been in a few of mine too.”

Well, that’s both comforting to him and terrifying because if he was in your dreams, the vernon in your head probably couldn’t even get you off. Which is fucked up of him. 

“If I tell you, you gotta tell me one of yours then.” 

You nod, resuming a more slouched posture and preparing to listen to him and his god awful story telling.

Except, it’s not awful. In fact, you can see him physically react to the images in his head as he re-tells the story. Those little movements in his legs? They don’t go unnoticed. 

“Last week, I had this dream and–” His eyes closed as he leaned himself against the couch, bouncing one leg up and down as if to calm his energy. He remembers it so clearly, and it’s kind of hard to admit with you right next to him. “Fuck,” He sighs out, ultimately choosing to leave the real life situation and instead live in his head for a few moments. 

Then, he opens his eyes and looks at you. 

“You couldn’t keep your hands off of me.” 

There’s a swirling inside of your belly at the way he is telling you this dream. One that makes you feel as though your initial reaction to his reaction isn’t so wrong after all. The dream turned him on. 

He liked it. 

He probably wanted it to happen after he woke up. 

“Then what happened?” You ask in a voice much smaller than you intended. 

Another sigh comes from him as he closes his eyes again, thinking hard about how detailed he should be about it. 

“Are you really wanting me to go into detail about how I dreamed about us fucking?”

You nod immediately, and then try to offer some form or relief. 

“If you don’t want to, that’s okay. Can you at least tell me if I was any good?” 

The way his eyes stay closed as he hums out. He is thinking. Very hard. 

“Well, it’s the only thing I’ve been jerking off to since it happened so I could argue that, yeah, you were pretty good.” 

You weren’t expecting him to admit how real he made the dream in his waking life. It’s an image he seemed to cling onto, and now, it’s an image you kind of want to cling onto as well. 

“Then tell me what happened.”

“I think I’ve admitted enough, it’s your turn now.”

Suddenly you feel shy. Yeah, it’s just a dream and all of that but now, seeing the way he seemed to really enjoy fucking you while being asleep, maybe you can admit to have liked the dream you had about him too. 

“We were in your living room and you went down on me. Absolutely rubbed one out when I woke up. Now, continue with yours.”

The fucking whiplash he gets from those string of words only drives him to continue.

“Oh how funny, I also went down on you in my dream too.” He tries to be normal about it, you can tell. “Would’ve been nice if I could actually taste it but as you know, I was like, asleep, and you’d probably never let me do that anyway.”

The side eye he gives you after saying that is almost hilarious. Almost.

“Well, were you any good at it?” You ask, leaning back against the arm of the couch and also pretending to be very normal about this sudden shift in friendship. 

“I’d say I was. Are you as vocal as you were in my dream?” He prods, still side-eyeing you. 

“Oh, most definitely.” 

He watches the way you lean back, the way you squeeze your thighs, the way you look a little flushed and he’s sure it’s not just the high doing it. 

“In my dream, you were also really wet for me.”

That, you can believe. 

“I’m really wet right now.” You admit in a monotone voice, staring straight at him and the way he turns his face away from you. 

“I’m also really hard,” He whispers out, not at all hiding the fact that his length is showing blatantly through his jeans. “We could, um, maybe…”

He didn’t even have to finish the sentence before you move yourself directly next to him, almost on him. You lean your head on his shoulder, feeling how warm he still is in this hoodie. You reach your arm up, pull off his beanie, and ruffle his hair once before smiling. 

“Are you going to eat me out first?”

It’s the way he nearly chokes, drowsy eyes no longer staring into space but staring directly at the way his cock twitches as your voice asks him such a thing. 

He nods.

“Yeah, yeah.” A cough. “Yes.” 

[subwaysurf45]

Meeting the Family

Summary: Bucky was having his family’s annual birthday celebration because seeminly everyone was born in Feburary. you were invited which meant you had to meet the large family Bucky comes from, and with your luck it didn’t go as smooth as you wanted it to. 

Words: 5k

Warnings: panic attack, spitting, mention of stress hives, protective/clingy Bucky, mentions of poverty (if you squint really hard) 

Spring reading week was definitely needed already, you sat in your tutorial while you managed to stay on top of the practice questions rather than doze off like the guy beside you. It was rapping up and people were already starting to pack up and some had already left. 

The moment the lecture ended you raced out the door, not before saying goodbye to your TA and wishing him a nice week off because you - though you hate to admit it - like to suck up sometimes. Once you were walking with Bucky on campus and saw one of your profs, Bucky stood for five minutes as you pitched up your voice and asked about her kids. He never let you live it down that sometimes you were a teacher’s pet. 

Natasha was standing at the bus stop with your duffle bag in hand, you had packed it last night and begged her to bring it to you so you could catch this bus rather than the next one that comes in an hour. She had a smirk on her face as you jogged up, taking the bag with a smile. 

“I can bring your backpack back to the house, if you want?” Nat offered, her hand already outstretched to take it. 

“No,” you caught your breath, “thank you though,” you smiled and pulled her in for a hug, “have a nice reading week, I’ll be back Thursday.” 

“I still can’t believe you’re up there for six days,” she laughed, “throwback to when you thought he hated you.” 

“Shut up,” you rolled your eyes, “and yes, I’m up there for a week, apparently there’s some birthday thing because seemingly everyone is born in February.” 

The bus driver honked and you hugged Natasha goodbye, quickly tapping your card and found a spot. You were by yourself which was great, you needed to put your duffle bag somewhere. This would be a full day of travelling instead of the ride you could have got yesterday, Bucky’s parents have some cabin that’s three hours away but this day would take double the time due to a bus and then train ride. 

You had two important tutorials today that you couldn’t miss, it also helped that Friday had a discount for student bussing, there was always a brightside. You shot a quick text to Bucky to let him know you were on transport number one and super happy to see him. 

You had met Bucky’s parents before you two started dating because Bucky invited the entire group up to the cabin but forgot to let his parents know and they had the same idea. You then spent the weekend with ten people; half were in college and the other were retired. 

It definitely was an important night for you. 

“James,” Ernie slapped Bucky’s shoulder, “I need you to understand that you don’t meet those kinds of women everyday, that girl is perfect for you, you have to sweep her off her feet.” 

“She’s dating someone, Ern,” Bucky whispered, rolling his eyes and leaning back in his camp chair, “this weekend blows.” 

“No it doesn’t,” you looked over your shoulder and paused your manicure for Ernie’s wife, “I think Melissa would disagree, would you not?” Melissa nodded and held out her nails, “see?” you looked at Bucky and smiled, but you could see something was actually wrong. 

“I’m going to bed,” it was rare for Bucky to leave the party first, he normally started it. He threw open the patio door and you watched as you stomped upstairs. 

Ernie looked at you, “are you seeing anyone?” 

“It’s complicated,” you sighed and put down Melissa’s hand to grab the other, “he’s…” you groaned, “I know he’s not right for me but…sometimes proximity and being in a relationship for as long as I have is comfortable, y’know?” 

“I don’t,” Ernie said bluntly, “If my lady was away from me for three months I’d write her letters, I’d keep that love alive-” he cleared his throat, “tell me, has this boyfriend made sure you got here okay? Sent you a whatever those are called…texts yet?” 

You purse your lips together, it seemed everyone’s conversations had ended and they were all looking at you. You looked over at Nat who nodded sadly, knowing the answer already because you had already told her. 

“No,” you whispered, “he…he didn’t want me coming because he doesn’t like me around my friends ‘cause…” you looked up at Nat again, not wanting to air out everything in front of these people you barely know, there’s layers to these things and you didn’t want ruin this weekend by talking about your shitty boyfriend again. 

Ernie sighed, “take it from me,” he tipped his bottle towards you, “a lot of people say life is short but when you’re aware you’re in a mistake it feels like a million lifetimes,” he took a long swig, “slowly withering away.” 

You took a shaky breath and stood up, “I’m also going to hit the hay, see you all tomorrow.” 

Half an hour later you were sitting on the corner of your bed, sobbing into your hands as you tried to keep quiet. You could feel this weight from your chest release but also it felt like a heavy blanket was weighing you down, you could barely sit up straight or breathe. 

Five years of a high school sweetheart wasted, all because you told him you didn’t like that he didn’t check up on you. The things he called you, the names. Those names pressed harder on your chest, squishing you down until you were gasping for air while tears streamed down your face. All of your senses were becoming distorted, your vision was slowly losing focus and you couldn’t see out of your peripheral vision, the feeling of your fingers scratching down your neck felt like TV static, everything sounded like you were underwater. 

“y/n?” The door burst open and you could only hear your name being called from underwater, from his long brown hair tied up being the only thing you could register, you knew it was Bucky. He took your hand that was tugging down your throat to try and create air hole and placed it on his own chest, he took your other hand and held with his, after making sure you could keep your hand on his chest by yourself he cupped your cheek, “breathe, honey, you have to breathe,” he could feel his rapid heartbeat, it wasn’t helping like it normally does. 

“I-” you managed to hack out, trying so hard to gain control. He gently tapped your face to try and bring you back, you couldn’t hear him talking over the pounding in your ears but you knew he was trying. Thrashing out, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him close, feeling things begin to settle when he held you tightly. 

“You are very safe,” he spoke directly into your ear as he held you close, “you are safe with me, alright?” 

“Okay,” you whimpered, balling up his t-shirt as you breathed in his scent which lowered your heart rate. “We broke up,” you gritted your teeth, “I called him a while ago.” 

Bucky pulled out of the hug but kept his hands on you, “how did that happen?” 

“I didn’t like how he didn’t check in on me,” you looked down at your lap, “and I…and he bit back and called me names and I just had enough, so I broke up with him and he screamed at me,” you let out a wet laugh, “I froze and his voice sounded so crisp it was like he was standing in front of me so I didn’t hang up, he just kept going until I snapped out of it.” 

“Do you want to come sleep in my bed?” Bucky brushed away your tears, “just so you’re not alone?” 

“Okay,” you timidly stood up. 

“We will be stopping for five minutes at the Main Station, please take your time getting off and remember to take all your personal belongings with you, have a nice rest of your day, thank you.” 

You sat up straight and got off the bus, heading out into the main area and looking up at the screens to try and find your train platform number. You walked around for a while and noticed it was number 14 but you had time, so you got yourself a snack while you waited beside the tracks with a few other people. After sending Bucky another text you looked down the tracks and snacked on your cream cheese bagel, patiently waiting for the light to appear in the distance. 

********

The house was already buzzing with family members, they were all asking about if you were going to be there. Apparently your mother had told them about you, you had met Bucky’s immediate family but no cousins or grandparents yet; this would be the big day. 

“So you’re making her take a train and a bus to get here when you could have stayed back one more day?” Bucky’s uncle was already tipsy, for some reason getting upset and the situation. 

“y/n and I both talked and we agreed this was best for the both of us,” Bucky sighed in annoyance as you took another sip of his beer, “I’m driving her home next week and picking her up form the station today, so…” Bucky rolled his eyes and headed into the kitchen to find his mom plating all the appetizers. 

Winnie looked up and smiled, “could you be a doll and bring this out?” she nudged the spinach dip, Bucky nodded and picked it up. “Is everything alright?” 

Bucky looked around to make sure no one was in earshot, “can people just stay out of my relationship?” he whispered while he walked around the island to get near his mom, “I mean, my God, we aren’t going to crash and burn just because she wanted to go to two very important classes which makes her have to come up today,” Bucky placed his beer down, “it's just everyone is on my ass about it and it’s starting to piss me off.” 

Winnie nodded, “you’re the oldest out of this generation in the family Bucky, all your cousins are younger than you and you’re the first to introduce a girl,” Winnie cupped his face, “people are just excited there’s fresh meat, I bet you any money they’ll swarm her when she shows up.” 

“That is the exact opposite of what I want to happen,” Bucky leaned against the counter and crossed his arm, Winnie stepped in front of him. “Have you mentioned in the e-mail about-”

“Yes, I have,” she scrunched her nose, “no one will make a single comment about what or how much y/n eats, no one will mention anything of the sort.” 

Bucky let out a deep breath and rolled his shoulders back, “I want this to be enjoyable for her,” Bucky looked at his mom who was nodding, “y’know, I want her to like my family but I also know the sheer number of Barnes’ can make anyone feel cornered, and when she feels cornered she…” Bucky rubbed the back of his neck, “and the last time she was here she broke up with her previous boyfriend,” Winnie placed her hand on his clenched jaw - making him relax it.

Her eyes flicked between Bucky’s, “you get protective and this anxious when she does, you hear?” Bucky nodded again, “right now, you are going to put that bowl on the coffee table and then come back for the chips as well as the pigs in the blanket and then you will go pick up your lovely girlfriend,” Winnie spoke softly and Bucky closed his eyes, “and you won’t crawl all over her with information and you won’t be glued to her hip all day, you can’t be the one to corner her, alright?” 

Bucky bit his bottom lip, “I love you, Ma.” he pulled her in for a hug, “I got really lucky with you, didn’t I?” 

Winnie chuckled, “I'm speaking from experience of meeting your father’s parents back then,” she sassed, “now go run all that stuff,” she waved him away. 

After putting everything out and finding George, his dad, Bucky got the keys to the truck and headed out. He brought a blanket for the passenger seat as the window in the old truck didn’t fully close and the heaters didn’t work. Bucky kept one hidden in the truck for himself when he was driving his dad's car. 

********

It had been five minutes since you got off the bus, you were shaking as you stood in the parking lot. Your arms folded over one another and you bounced in spot to keep from freezing solid, nothing helped with the outfit you were wearing. The train had the nicer bathrooms so you changed there, pulling on black tights to go under and a chunky wool dress that seemed like an oversized sweater; something Bucky would wear. 

The cabin was in the woods and a little more North, making it colder than campus even though the winter was not completely gone yet. Spring break was more like the end of winter break for where you lived, but a break was a break. 

A truck pulled in and flashed its headlights, you ran up and opened the door. Bucky looked nice with his dark green flannel, black shirt complimenting his hair and eyes. You lunged over the center console and hugged him, his hands pulling you as tight as he could. 

“You look so pretty,” he whispered, “you’re going to have my eight year old cousin wrapped around your finger,” he laughed as he took your duffle bag and threw it in the back seat. After you got settled in, Bucky drove away, taking one hand off the wheel to place on your thigh. 

“So,” you sighed, “what do I need to know?” 

Bucky laughed, “you’ll find out soon enough,” he briefly looked over at you, “just-...” Bucky scratched his stubble that was growing in, “I have a lot of family members and I was talking to my mom about this,” Bucky looked over once he stopped at the red light, “you’re the first person someone has brought home, I’m the first to have a girlfriend and bring her to a family thing so…”

“Go on,” you cupped his cheek. 

“They are going to be all over you,” he admitted, “they already are and you weren’t there yet,” he pushed out a laugh, “so I’m not trying to scare you or anything, I just want to to be prepared and if you start feeling anxious just tell me, we’ll take a second outside, okay?” 

You nodded, “that’s lovely Bucky,” you smiled wide, “you talked to Winnie for advice about me,” you cooed and scratched his cheek when he got extremely red, “I love that, baby, thank you.” 

“And…” Bucky swallowed hard, “I just want full disclosure with this,” he turned down a dirt path, “I ask them to keep comments about food to a minimum, I just want you to know that.” 

Your lips parted with a gasp, “really?” he looked over like he was in trouble but was met with you melt into your seat, “I really appreciate that, lovey, thank you.” 

The moment you stepped foot in the cabin you were greeted with loud chatter coming from another room, Bucky called out and you heard Winnie call back. Bucky took your bags from you and also hung up your jacket, smiling as he gave you suggestive eyebrows when he saw your full look, it was becoming a running joke between the two of you. 

Winnie ran over with her apron on, she held her arms out for a hug and you gladly fell into it. You had met George and Winnie a few times before, it was easy to find out that Bucky was a copy and paste of Winnie, everything about him was the same. She took your arm and stole you away from Bucky, taking you into the kitchen with her. 

“So,” she opened the fridge, “I picked up those ingredients you sent me, they are all over in their little corner,” she pointed to the top right, “dinner is going to be early so whenever you need to start just go ahead, alright?” 

“Sounds good,” you nodded. Before heading into the busy living room you were pouring yourself a glass of white wine, “George, nice to see you!” you reached out for a hug and he gladly accepted. 

“You got your work all done?” He asked as he took out another beer for himself, “Bucky told us you two two tutorials?” 

“Yep,” you took a small sip, “I was confused about the lesson and I didn’t want to be thinking about it this entire week so I thought I would clear it up for the big celebration,” you giggled until you quickly realized something, “has it arrived, by the way?” 

George couldn’t contain his smile, “it has, it’s going to be in your spare room under the bed.” 

“Perfect,” you raised your eyebrows, took your glass, and headed into the loudest room in the house. 

********

Repeating the same conversations over and over bored you like crazy, you didn’t know how many times you had to go over your entire life story until the entire room was on the same page. It was the same thing every time. 

You were standing by yourself with your second glass in your hand, what looked like an uncle had locked eyes with you and was coming over. You smoothed down your dress and smiled back, when he walked up he shook your hand and then faced the group before the both of you. 

“How are you liking the family so far?” simply from the way he talked you started to figure out who his kids were, you could also tell he was on Bucky’s dad’s side. His posture was almost perfect, a sweater tied around his neck and hanging off his back like a cape. 

“I’ve met some of you guys before, just in passing, but seeing everyone together is very sweet,” you giggled and looked over at Bucky who was showing his eldest grandpa something on his phone. 

“What are you studying?” he asked and took a sip of what looked like whiskey, it was odd because almost everyone else was drinking wine or a beer from the bottle. 

“Psychology,” you said for the ninth time, “but I’m definitely going back to school after, to specify.” 

“Huh,” he poked his tongue against his cheek, looking around the room again. He seemed to be waiting for something, he fixed his posture and you tried to look at where he was looking but nothing could be found. “I have my PhD,” he leaned down and added when you didn’t ask. 

“When did you defend it?” your eyes lit up, “i’ve always wanted to watch one happen in real life, it’s so amazing what you guys can remember and work with on the spot, I’d be too nervous,” you laughed and brough your glass up to your lips. 

He seemed to grow red very quickly, “I haven’t defended it yet, I’m…” he paused, “I’m close to submission on my paper.” 

“Oh,” you nodded, “so you don’t have it yet?” You couldn’t help but laugh a bit at the way he was trying to get out of the hole he dug himself into, he was far from actually having his PhD. part of you felt like he already had people call him Doctor. 

“I don’t,” he gritted out, “I’m going to grab a beer.” 

********

You were working away in the kitchen to make your little desserts for everyone, Winnie had taken her break and was mingling with everyone else. Bucky joined you not too long after to simply sit and watch, he watched you in silence as you looked back and forth between the recipe and the bowl in front of you. 

“I love it when you talk to yourself,” Bucky muttered, “you’re adorable.” 

“Shut up,” you grabbed the whisk and started mixing. 

You and Bucky stayed together in comfortable silence, both of you had done tons of talking already and just being near one another was enough. He had this calming presence that worked even when you weren’t aware you were up tight, it seemed his aura lowered your heart rate no matter what. 

People would come in and out to fill their drinks or see what was going on in here, a lot asked if they could help but you kindly declined. The music could be heard from the kitchen but not the living room, you bopped around as you placed the cookie mix onto the cookie sheet. 

At one point Bucky made his way around the island and towards you, picking up your wine glass and going to the fridge. He filled it and added ice cubes when you asked, making you smile to yourself as he softly replied. You looked over your shoulder to see him move swiftly but with care, slowly dropping them in so it didn’t bang against the glass or cause the wine to splash up. 

His hands made their way around your middle, you plunked the cookie dough on the sheet as his head dropped to your shoulder and stayed there for a while. His entire body was pressed up against you, Bucky just swayed as you worked. Every once in a while he’d place a soft kiss to your shoulder to reach around to tuck some hair behind your ear, nothing that got in your way or annoyed you. 

“I think it’s almost dinner,” Bucky whispered, giving you a squeeze. 

“Can I sit beside you?” you joked, looking over your shoulder to see his smiling face. It was a no brainer but you still found it sweet he nodded quickly. “I also think this is going to be my last drink,” you took a sip, “it’s really nice but I’m getting tipsy,” you both laughed. 

Bucky let go and took the tray to place in the oven, “my dad always breaks out the whisky at night,” he shook his head to himself, obviously remembering something, “beer makes me happy and funny drunk while whisky makes me all needy and clingy, get ready for that.” he walked over again, “I mean it.” 

“You already are a grade A clinger,” you pecked his lips, “looks like you’ll be miserable with me in the guest bedroom.” 

Bucky quickly shook his head, “nu-uh, I’m sneaking in or bringing you with me, I’m going to fall asleep on top of you, I’m calling it now.” 

Everyone made their way into the dining room, you found your spot beside Bucky and looked around at all the food in front of you. For a moment you were overwhelmed but Bucky’s hand was swiftly placed on your thigh, when you looked over Bucky wasn’t even looking at you, he was talking to his gramps again. 

As the food was passed around you put enough on your plate, getting coy when Bucky gave you a bun without asking. Little conversations began to build but you and Bucky stayed in your own little world, whispering to each other and laughing as if you were out on a date with no one else around. 

After a while Bucky’s youngest cousin began to ask you questions, it was much more entertaining than the adults. She asked if you had any imaginary friends or dogs, everyone laughed as she rapidly fired questions. 

“Do you and Bucky love each other?” the little girl asked. 

“Very much so,” you giggled and leaned into Bucky, he kissed your temple. 

“So…” she lost her train of thought, “do you and Bucky kiss?” 

Everyone laughed and Bucky answered, “sometimes,” causing the room to awkwardly laugh. 

The eight your old tucked her chin into her neck, “do you hold hands?” 

You lifted your hand to show you were already holding it, bringing your other hand up to sip your wine. 

“Do you have sex?” 

Immediately spat out. 

The white wine sprayed all over the kid’s face and food that people were eating, everyone erupted into belly laughs, including Bucky, but you stared horrified at the little girl crying in front of everyone. Your hand covered your mouth as you sat in shock, the little girl’s mother scolded her for asking that and wiped her face off with a decorative napkin. 

“That was too good!” the PhD faker slapped his knee, everyone agreed except you. 

You sat in horror as everyone calmed down and worked around their infected meals, you just curled up and kept your head down. The last thing you wanted was for this to become a household story that will show up next year, the embarrassment made your entire body boiling hot. You reached over and grabbed Bucky’s ice water, taking a couple gulps which also meant he looked over at you. 

“No,” he whispered, “no stress hives,” he rubbed his thumb down your neck, “baby, it’s okay,” you didn’t listen as you kept drinking his water, feeling him rub your back as you tried to cool down. 

Occasionally someone would laugh, all you thought about was the kid being wiped down in the nearest bathroom, it looked like a whale breached right beside her. She probably didn’t know what that meant and had run out of questions, she was so cute when asking other questions you knew she was coming from a good heart but not the right definition; she must have meant to say something else. 

You kept to yourself for the rest of dinner, not really engaging in the conversations and no one talked to you anyways. Eating quickly, you finished with enough time to get the cookies out of the oven and have a moment alone in the kitchen. You found another cup and filled it with ice water, letting Bucky keep his own glass. 

“Here are the cookies,” Bucky called as you walked in with the platter, “you guys, they’re amazing,” he took some of the plates away from the people who were done, “does anyone want coffee or tea?” 

“Oh, Buck, I can do that,” George stood up from the head of the table, “stay here, alright?” 

Bucky sat down and was quick to pluck a cookie for himself, making sure you saw him eat it and encouraging other people to eat as well. They all began to snack away, quickly looking at you with wide eyes; they were a hit!

“It’s a very old recipe,” you smiled. 

“Tell them the story,” Bucky nudged your arm. 

“Well,” you smoothed out your placemat in front of you, “My mom and I were moving out of this apartment complex because they were tearing it down for some…I don’t know, high rise,” you looked around to see everyone intensively listening, “and so when they were in the middle of construction my mom and I went back to check it out and it turned around there was this cookie recipe that seemed weird on paper with all the ingredients but we gave it a shot, it was old and crumpled up but you could buy it all at the store,” you took another bite, “so when we told people my mom’s friend said that it was probably used as insulation because our complex was old and people used to use news papers,” you laughed, “so we think this recipe literally came from the inside of a wall because my mom and I were in the rubble when we found it.” 

“Isn't that crazy?” Bucky laughed and took another, “when I first heard it, I was like maybe it was keeping you guys warm the entire time, maybe it was next to old newspapers that kept you guys warm?” He slung his arm around you. 

“Why couldn’t you guys get real insulating stuff?” one of the teen cousins asked. 

“It was an old building,” you took a sip of water. 

“Yeah but like,” he paused and scrunched up his face, “couldn’t they fix it, make it with modern materials?” 

You thought about it though you knew the answer. You held yourself back from saying it was the cheapest building on the block but you instead smiled and said, “I’ll give you the landlord’s number, you can set him straight.” 

Everyone laughed and the PhD guy chimed in, “does this recipe call for you to spray anything in it, because I don’t know if that’s a culture thing,” he chuckled, and the rest of the group laughed. 

You could feel the heat spreading around your neck again, “ha, ha,” you smiled through it, “I’ll never live that down, will I?” 

“It’s such a funny story, I’ll tell that one instead of that recipe one for next time,” he had the audacity to wink at you. His smile fell quickly, you hadn’t given him a face but when you looked over your shoulder to see Bucky beside you, it was clear. 

If looks could kill. 

********

You had called it a night a while ago, curled up in bed after finishing some work. Most of the family had left before it got too dark, not wanting to drive out of the lonesome woods in the middle of the night. Bucky stayed down for a while, of course drinking his whisky with his dad. 

“It could have been worse,” you said out loud as you looked at your duffle bag sitting on the chair in the corner of the room. Nothing was perfect but you had made friends with Bucky’s family and learned a lot, they seemed to really like you and not swarm as much as you thought. 

Hearing heavy footsteps coming up the stairs you listened close, smiling to yourself when you were able to label them as Bucky’s footsteps. Your back was to the door but you still closed your eyes, wanting to see what he’d do if he saw you sleeping. The door cracked open and you heard a gasp, he was drunk and needy. 

His hands slipped under your curled frame and picked you up, “my sack of potatoes,” he whispered to himself and left the room, turning off the light. When you were tossed onto his bed you opened your eyes, Bucky was taking off his shirt and nice pants. 

“Are you really going to-” he cut you off as he slipped under the sheets and laid right on you, just like he said he would. His face nuzzled into your chest and his arms held you close, you couldn’t help but play with his hair and watch how fast he fell asleep. “It's your birthday soon,” you whispered, “you’ll get your present soon.” 

Bucky held you impossibly closer, “it’s already here, baby.”

Masterlist 

Taglist: @jackiehollanderr​ @tylard-blog1​ @readingbooksanddrinkingtea-blog​ @linzc-reader​ @hotleaf-juice​ @honeybunchesofbucky​ @seybox​ @yaszx​ @happyt0exist​ @sky0401​ @striving4averagegirl​ @searchf0rtheskyline​ @aya-fay​ @wbyss​ @luvrsbian​

If you would like to be added to my taglist just send an ask!

[aftgficrec]

hi besties! can i be a bit weird and ask for sick fics here? old/new/favorites, any will do! just some big ol’ hurt/ comfort, especially if combined with some emotional hurt/comfort 🥰

There’s nothing weird about this at all!  Apart from the fics below, there’s also our sickfic tag as well as our hurt/comfort tag for more (see our tag page under the heading ‘themes - injuries/illnesses/conditions’). - S

Previous recs:

cool andreil sick fics here

sick fics here

foxes with headaches/sick fics here

10k+ sick fics here

Andreil in hospital here

Neil with major injury here

Neil gets injured (post canon) here

Neil & car accidents here

accident-prone Neil here

Andreil with amnesia here

medical Andreil/Aaron & Neil here

Neil getting roofied here

Also see… 

‘we're one (there's nothing to be done)’ here

‘Just like that day’ here

‘head case (what to do with you)’ here

‘Such Stuff as Dreams are Made’ here

‘Neil Josten Is a Lucky Man’ here

‘Broken’ here

‘If Only I Were Enough’ (completed) here

‘I'll Come Back To You’ here

‘glass in the trees (objects in the rearview)’ here

‘Running Ragged’ here

‘To Love and Be Loved’ here

‘all that looking down’ here

‘next best thing’, keep telling me that it gets better (does it ever?)’ and ‘no matter when and where, we’ll be alright’ here

‘Can Nobody Hear Me (I cannot breathe)’, ‘I remeber tears streaming down your face (for me to wipe them away)’, ‘you crawled inside my head’, ‘living leaves so many holes in us’, ‘Ciggarette Smoke Cure’, ‘Breathless’, ‘i've done my time’ and ‘cats and close calls’ here

‘The Highs and Lows of Pre-med Majors' here (Aaron)

‘Hold My Hand?’ here

‘Echo’ here 

I’m More Than This Body of Mine by yall_send_help [Rated M, 88811 words, incomplete, last updated Jan 2024]

The doctor took a pause, which Nathaniel was able to use to ask, “what about my leg?” The two pigs had the audacity to look surprised. The doctor looked over at them with a hint of confusion. “You didn’t tell him?” Towns shook his head as Browning said, “you told us not to.” Dr. Byrd nodded her head in approval and turned back to the bed. “Nathaniel…” she trailed off, reevaluating her words. “Would you mind if I sit?” and only after his own nod did she. “The damage done to your leg… it was unlike what most of the staff at this hospital had ever seen. The surgeons tried to save it, but…” She looked down at where his legs were and Nathaniel did too, only to feel himself pale at what he found. “The surgery took about three hours,” Dr. Byrd continued. “The only reason why it took so long was because the surgeons really did try to save your leg. They did. Amputations usually take only half that time. Eventually, Dr. McCoy called it. Because of the damage done to your leg, we couldn’t wake you up to ask. It had to go. I’m sorry.” or - the one where neil goes to baltimore and comes back missing a leg

tw: torture, tw: amputation, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: panic attacks, tw: blood, tw: animal cruelty, tw: implied/referenced drug overdose

fireproof by mostly_maudlin [Rated T, 2097 words, complete, 2024]

Andrew gets his flu shot.

Things Always Gets Worse Before They Gets Better series by Renee_Walker_09 [Rated G, 40141 words, incomplete, 3 complete works, 2024]

Part 1: Beginnings & Endings (G, 1083 words)

It's 1:30 in the morning. The Foxes are celebrating their championship win against the Ravens the only way they know how to: booze, partying, and a little bit more booze. Nothing could possibly ruin this?

tw: car accident, tw: major character injury

Part 2: You Mean Everything To Me (G, 12767 words)

There are two crashed cars. There’s blood on the floor. Lights are flashing all around. Andrew is standing in the middle of the crash site with a blanket draped across his shoulders as he stares straight at Neil, lying on the floor.

tw: car accident, tw: major character injury, tw: (temporary) major character death, tw: suicide attempt, tw: drug overdose, tw: blood, tw: self harm

Part 3: Hours, Days, Weeks (G, 26299 words)

Andrew is lying in a coma following the accident. His condition is critical. And Neil and Aaron have to find a way to cope.  Neil and Aaron’s POVs of the crash and the past 6 weeks

tw: car accident, tw: blood, tw: major character injury, tw: (temporary) major character death, tw: self harm, tw: panic attacks, tw: seizures

NB: find art for the fics by the author here as well as embedded in the fics

Even goalkeepers can’t block sickness by BlowingYourMind [Rated G, 12768 words, complete, 2024]

“Rabbit,” Andrew peered up at him with half lidded eyes, “Yes or no?” “Yes ‘Drew,” Neil clasped his hands at Andrew’s elbows, “it’s always a yes, you know that.” “No ‘s not,” Andrew weakly argued as he took hold of Neil’s chest pad, using it to leverage himself upwards. It was awkward work of walking half-delirious Andrew back to the locker room, shielding him from the crowd while keeping him on his feet, but they managed. Or Andrew becomes very sick at an away game, and Neil and the foxes take care of him.

tw: vomit

the upswing by missgivings [Not Rated, 45569 words, incomplete, last updated Jan 2024]

The next universe over, life has gone a bit easier on Andrew. He’s gainfully employed as a nurse of all things, working beside his best friend Renee, and living in relative harmony with his brother, the recently graduated Dr. Aaron Minyard. Everything’s fine. It’s fine that he hasn’t spoken to Kevin in person for three years. It’s fine if Aaron’s leaving him to marry his stupid doctor girlfriend. It’s fine until the boy with the box-dyed hair stumbles into the ER and passes out at his feet, bringing a world of secrets and trouble with him. And Neil? Neil’s looking for any port in a storm.

tw: major character injury, tw: violence, tw: implied/referenced self harm

please (don't bite) by Major_816 [Rated M, 5478 words, complete, 2024]

Genioglossus. It’s a fan-shaped muscle and forms the bulk of the inferior part of the tongue. It stretches to the hyoid bone too. ~ Neil wakes up to a bad day and it just gets worse.

tw: blood, tw: self harm, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: nightmares, tw: flashbacks, tw: vomit

Will you love me for who I am, not for who I was? by something_boring [Rated T, 1580 words, complete, 2024]

Neil is sick on New Year's eve, wakes up to the fireworks, and continues to have a panic attack about his time on the run.

tw: nightmares, tw: panic attacks, tw: implied/referenced child abuse

Your Needs, My Needs by TogeMythia [Rated T, 1073 words, complete, 2023]

‘Neil.’ He whined, his face still buried under the blankets. ‘Hrmph?’ Neil responded with a confused noise from somewhere across the bed. ‘Do you feel as shit as you sound?’ - Or Neil and Andrew wake up sick on Christmas day.

tw: vomit

To be safe by HushedStars [Rated G, 2116 words, complete, 2023]

Neil is feeling unwell. He seeks comfort from Matt. It was late at night. Neil stood in the kitchen, deep in thought but still with one ear alert for any movement of his roommates. He shifted from foot to foot, hands digging into his sore neck

tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: panic attacks

Safe with him by 1mNot4Hum4n [Not Rated, 2434 words, complete, 2023]

Neil is sick but doesn't want to admit it. He can't be sick. He can't be weak. Luckily Andrew is there to make sure his junkie is okay, and remind him that he has people around him who are willing to do anything to protect him.

'tis the season by moonix [Rated T, 5579 words, complete, 2023]

Five holidays Andrew had to let Kevin take care of him and one time he got to return the favour.

i called your name ‘til the fever broke by cyanica [Rated T, 5632 words, incomplete, last updated Nov 2023]

Neil’s breath is hot and awful against Andrew’s thigh. “I can’t be sick on your birthday,” he says, like it’s that simple. “I can’t be sick on you on your birthday.” “How considerate,” Andrew’s voice is a bland murmur, and he is left watching Neil’s bloodless, wet lips, as he curls into Andrew’s lap. Neil gently pulls away after a moment, leaning back into Andrew’s hand on his neck. “Is me being sick still making you anxious?” he asks. Fever-stricken with dizzied-eyes and delirious thoughts, he knows Andrew without more than a moment beside him, a look into his eyes that makes Andrew feel undone, found. Or Neil is sick and Andrew isn’t coping well.

tw: vomit, tw: panic attacks, tw: dissociation, tw: anxiety

You Know I'm Good On My Own by sambutwithbooks [Rated G, 4568 words, complete, Aftg Then And Now 2023]

Andrew breaks his arm two games into the season and it feels a little bit like Neil’s world snaps with it. (A snapshot of Neil and Andrew between Andrew coming home from the hospital and going back home to Palmetto State.)

tw: major character injury

that's my line by sillyunicorn6154 [Rated G, 1291 words, complete, 2023]

Andrew is definitely not sick. But he is a little stubborn.

You're not fine, but you will be by karmenvi [Not Rated, 616 words, complete, 2023]

Neil is sick, so Andrew takes care of him. So it was supposed to be a sickfic, but it turned into 'Andrew stares at Neil and thinks his boyfriend is the prettiest boy in the world.' Anyway, enjoy some fluff.

I'll be okay if he's here by obsessivereader156 [Not Rated, 1673 words, complete, 2023]

“Thank you, Drew,” Neil says for the twentieth time, feeling so lucky to have someone take care of him. “Say it again and I will kill you.” “You’re just so nice to me,” Neil says a bit deliriously, “I’ve never had someone take care of me when I’m sick.”

If it means losing you, then no by LostMess_24 [Rated T, 6712 words, complete, 2023]

There was something against his hand, a pressure he knew too well, a hand that fit so perfectly against his, making Andrew’s presence known, making Neil’s entire body relax, slowing his breathing a bit. But before Neil could see the man at his side, it hit him. He was starting to feel it, all around him. Those white walls, the mattress he was in, the soft yet old sheets, the pressure on his arm. And finally, unmistakably, the regular and aggressive beeps, signs of a life that was his own. He was in a hospital bed. There’s an accident. Those idiots would do anything and everything to protect each other.

tw: major character injury, tw: car accidents

cause and effect by mistyrie [Rated M, 13107 words, complete, 2023]

"Andrew realized what he was seeing but he couldn’t comprehend it. He didn’t know how to help. There was no enemy to deal with – there was just Neil seizing on the floor and Andrew didn’t know what to do." Neil starts having seizures and Andrew tries to help.

tw: seizures (epilepsy)

how the foxes act when they're sick by @detectivebambam [tumblr, 2024]

headcanons on the foxes and illness

headcanons on Neil getting sick by @24-0z [tumblr, 2022]

Neil doesn't get sick very often, so when he finally catches the bug that had been going around campus, he's suddenly 8 years old again, sweating and trembling with fever

SICK!Neil for my soul. by @satan-in-a-v-neck [tumblr, 2021]

Neil is acting strange. Ask every fox and they'll tell you that for the past three days Neil Josten wasn't acting very Neil Josteny.

tw: vomit

illness/injuries as background event:

The Songs Around Us by doodlingstuff [Rated M, 80075 words, complete, 2022]

The mission was simple: Nathaniel would join Astral Foxes as Neil Josten and make them part of Moriyama Music. In reality, Neil became real, found a home, and fell in love despite his lies. When the Moriyamas send the Butcher to remind Neil of his mission and Andrew's life ends on the line, Neil will have to find a way to escape his fate and bring Andrew back. As he gets closer to losing the man he loves the most, Neil will realize that sometimes, music is the only answer, and others, truth is the only weapon he can use. Another Band!AU. This time extra angsty.

tw: torture, tw: car accident, tw: major character injury, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: panic attacks, tw: violence

NB: find art for this fic by @doodlingstuff here

[shubblelive]

— SOURCE MATERIAL

summary : tommy’s plan to get you and wilbur back together doesn’t work. fortunately, you don’t need it. a quiet christmas party, joni mitchell and a little bit of alcohol works just fine.

genre : fluff with some angst peppered here and there

warnings : mentions of a breakup, alcohol/drinking (one mention of being drunk in the past, no one’s drunk in the fic), swearing, very minor panic attack, tommy being a little shithead

pairing : cc!wilbur x ex girlfriend!reader

pronouns : she/her

featuring : cc!wilbur soot, cc!tommyinnit (tommy and will are the only creators with dialogue),cc!phil + kristin (mentioned), cc!ranboo (mentioned), cc!tubbo (mentioned), cc!james marriott (mentioned), cc!aimsey (mentioned)

word count : 4.3k

note : christmas fic christmas fic christmas fic!!! december is one of my favourite times of the year and suddenly i am so inspired like i haven’t written anything in ages but december rolls around and boom here’s a 4k wilbur fic. thank you to carrie for letting me yell at her about this fic.

it wasn’t unusual for tommy to call you and ask for a ride home. he would catch an uber somewhere and sometimes he’d go to book one home and the nearest car would be over an hour away, so if his parents were busy he turned to the next best thing; his siblings. 

the internet was well aware of the younger boy’s habit of adopting older creators as family members. phil and kristin were his parents, and you and wilbur were his older siblings, and you were more than happy to give him lifts whenever you were free. 

“can you come pick me up?”

“hello to you too, tommy.” you had just ended your stream, and were processing the footage for editing to go on your youtube channel. “where are you?”

“i’m about twenty minutes from your place, i can text you the address.” tommy answered. “please?”

you were already putting on your coat. “alright, send me the address, i’ll be there soon.”

“you’re a life-saver, atom,” tommy said. you huffed at the nickname, given to you because “you barely matter” as tom had joked one afternoon a few months ago. before you could respond, he had hung up.

“shithead,” you pocketed your phone and bent down to tie your laces. your phone vibrated in your pocket, probably tommy with the address. you pulled it out one handed as you tightened your shoes. without looking, you copied the address into google maps and pressed enter, putting it on your dashboard mount. 

it should have clicked when you passed the dive bar you used to frequent. it should have clicked when you passed the corner shop.  it should have clicked when you passed the ginger stray you used to pet on your walk to the corner shop. perhaps you were in denial, but you didn’t register where you were until you were parked in front of the building.

you were nervous when you’d first moved in there. you had lived in the same shitty flat since uni, and when wilbur had tentatively asked you to to move in with him you had your doubts. not because you didn’t love will, no that was the least of your issues. you just didn’t want to step on his toes, it was his place after all. you were hesitant to bring your things in, feeling guilty when wilbur’s novels were moved to make room for your plants, when he had to install another rack to hold all your shoes, when you had come home from the bakery and found wilbur had swapped out his sheets for a set of yours. but over time, wilbur had eased you into it, and soon it was just as much your place as it was his. 

now it was just his again. it hadn’t been yours for nearly a year, and yet when you pulled into the strip of parking you had to consciously go to the ‘guests’ section. you took your phone off the dock, your knee jumping up and down as you called tommy. he didn’t answer. you texted him. and again. then you called a second time, leaving him a desperate voicemail. fifteen minutes went by and tommy hadn’t even read any of your texts, so you huffed, realising that you were going to have to physically go and retrieve tommy. 

you dug out your key card from the depths of your purse, praying that wilbur didn’t block your card. the light turned green and you breathed a sigh of relief, pushing the door open. in an attempt to make it take longer, hoping and praying that tommy would reply before you reached the third floor. you reached the top of the stairs and sighed, counting to three in your head before knocking. “tom? it’s me!” you knocked again, not wanting mr adams next door to hear your voice and come out to talk to you. he was a nice older man, but you didn’t want to be in this building for a second longer than you had to. “tommy?” you inhaled. “will?”

you heard a muffled voice, and the door swung open in front of you. “tom.” you breathed another sigh of relief. “great. let’s go, i have a video to edit.”

“wait, i have to grab my stuff.” tommy said, and then he was off, and you were alone. 

the first thing that struck you was how the place looked. it was exactly the same as when you had been there. you turned around to the end table behind the door. a few unopened letters, a small wooden bowl, and a small plant. the bowl had been your idea, weeks of wilbur coming to you with “darling, do you know where my keys are?” before you caved and bought it for him. lo and behold, his keyes were nestled inside, spotify code keychain that you had also bought him sitting face up. the plant was new, and you ran a finger over the leaf.

on the couch there was a grey woollen blanket thrown over the back, also yours. though, technically he had bought it. you were the only one who used it, complaining about the cold. as lovely as you thought will’s flat was the heating barely worked. will radiated warmth, both physically and emotionally. 

the entire flat still contained your presence. any random person wouldn’t be able to tell that you hadn’t lived there since you and wilbur broke up. 

“hey.”

you spun around, wilbur smiling sheepishly. “sorry, sorry. would it be awfully cliche if I said I didn’t mean to startle you?”

you laughed breathily. “yes. but it’s okay.”

he nodded, guilty smile still pinched across his face. “tommy’s just grabbing his shit. you know that kid, fucking menace.”

if tommy noticed how awkward it was, he didn’t say anything. you and wilbur both brightened visibly when he came through the door. watching wilbur hug tom goodbye, squeezing his shoulder gently, it hits you suddenly that you haven’t seen wilbur in nearly seven months.

you’re quiet as you drop tommy off, and he wants to apologise. wants to say sorry for making you pick him up and not telling you his phone was on the verge of dying. he wants to say he’s sorry for all those times you cancelled streams, claiming you “weren’t feeling well” when he knew you were upset about wilbur. 

but tommy also saw all those times wilbur was curled up in that grey blanket you left behind. buying plants to fill in the gaps of things you took and to give him a purpose, something that depended on him. he saw the way wilbur’s eyes brightened when he heard your voice, his shoulder’s slumping before the door shut when you left. 

how one time he’d had stood in front of a drunk wilbur, tear tracks running down his face and had to wrestle will’s phone off him to stop him from calling you. 

tommy didn’t know what had happened between you two; you were adults, he was only seventeen at the time. it felt naive of him to think you two belonged together, but he couldn’t help it. 

“thanks for driving me.” he said earnestly as he stepped out of the car. you nodded and gave him a pained smile. “i love you.”

it wasn’t a normal occurrence, saying things like that, but you softened. “i love you.” tommy brightened seeing your more genuine expression, but he could still see that your interaction with wilbur had left you upset. 

you collapsed back onto your sofa once you were home, not in the mood to edit your video anymore. 

wilbur always worked too much. it was something his viewers loved; how dedicated he was to them. but they didn’t see the sleepless nights, when you would wake up to wilbur typing frantically in his notes app, a muffled “go back to sleep, darling” when he noticed you were awake.

but then it turned to missing entire nights of sleep, coming back from streaming to find wilbur passed out on the couch, shoes still on from last night. sometimes he would talk to you about it, laying on your chest as you ran your fingers through his hair and whispering about how he didn’t want to let anyone down.

you soothed him as best as you could, but you knew that the dark circles and the endless cups of coffee would only get worse. he didn’t have the time or energy to take care of himself, let alone you. not that you needed him to take care of you, but the two of you lived together and you probably talked to the fedex person more than you did your boyfriend.

you’d only been split for eight months, but you’d been missing him for far longer.

you were putting up christmas decorations when tommy called next. stringing lights across the shelves in your office, only bothered to decorate the one room. it wasn’t like you’d be doing anything anyway. “yeah, tom?” your phone was wedged between your shoulder and ear as you tried to detangle the lights. 

“hey, me and will were streaming together and i have to get home like, now but my dad isn’t available until three,” tommy explained, and you winced at the sound of wilbur’s name. “i totally get it if you can’t, but-“

“i’ll be there, but i’m going to mcdonald’s on the way back and you are paying.” tommy laughed and you had to move the phone away from your ear, giving up on the lights for the time being. “will still has the same office right?”

“yeah you can get there alright?” he asked. “you don’t need the address?” you assured him you’d be fine, and he paused guiltily. “we may also be locked in. the door broke again.”

“jesus,” you shook your head. “yeah, alright i’ll come let you out. dickhead,” you smiled at his noise of indignation before hanging up.

this time it was worse. the last time you’d been planning on avoiding wilbur until about five minutes before you saw him. this time you had the whole drive over to think about what it would be like. his hair was longer, you’d noticed when you first saw him. you always loved it when his hair was longer but it got in his face too much and he hated the feeling. 

you’d cut his hair for him once. wilbur sitting on a chair in the kitchen of your flat (this was before you’d moved in together) while you sat on the bench behind him, swinging your legs ever so slightly as he gazed adoringly up at you.

“let me take a picture,” you’d giggled, turning to grab your phone. “you look so cute.”

“no,” he’d whined. “darling,” he’d still smiled when you prompted, and you looked softly at your screen, completely enamoured. “do not post that anywhere, can’t have anyone knowing that i simp for you.”

“dork,” you had put your phone down and ruffled his hair, some loose hairs falling out from where you’d cut. 

you pulled your car up to the pavement and went up to wilbur’s office. it was a fairly small building, and you managed to get there without anyone asking any questions. 

you reached the office and peered inside. it was dark. you opened the door and stuck your head in, but there was no one inside. “hey!” tommy said much too loudly, him and wilbur coming around the corner. your eyes flicked between the two of them, narrowing slightly.

“i thought you said the door was locked?” you asked uncertainly.

“it’s not,” tommy said simply, and he reached a hand out and shoved you through the open door, shutting it behind you. “but it will be.”

“what the fuck?” you banged on the window.

tom pushed wilbur over, but the older man just looked at him incredulously. “have you lost your mind?”

“please?” tommy asked, gesturing to where you were glaring at him.

“no!” wilbur said, hitting tommy’s arm off his shoulder. “you’re a dickhead. now let her out.”

“fine.” tommy’s shoulders slumped and he moved out of the way. wilbur rolled his eyes at tommy, saying he’d do it and then making will. his hand wrapped around the doorknob and he was halfway through an apology to you when tommy’s hand collided with his back.

wilbur stumbled toward and you both watched in horror as tommy shut the door, triumphantly locking it with a click.

“tommy you fucker!” wilbur yelled.

“now, i may have been lying about needing a lift and being locked in the office, but i wasn’t lying about needing to go home.”

“thomas if you leave i’m gonna delete your channel!” tommy actually looked nervous at wilbur’s threat. “open the door.”

tommy sighed again, finally giving up. he jiggled the doorknob and his eyes widened. “okay i would let you out but i may have broken the door.”

he backed away, both you and will yelling at him. 

you turned so your back was against the door, sitting down with your knees up to your chest. will came to sit next to you. “are you okay?”

“i just don’t like knowing there’s no way out of a room.” you said quietly. “i don’t like being trapped.”

“i know,” he said softly. “is there anything i can do besides breaking a window?”

you exhaled, smiling weakly. “can you just talk to me?” you fiddled nervously, suddenly worried about what he would think.

“of course i can.” without realising, wilbur had reached out and was dragging his thumb gently over the back of your hand. “you know that step down the street from ou-my flat? the one that you always used to trip on? they fixed it.” you didn’t seem to notice his mistake, so he kept going. “and there’s a new bar a few miles away and we’ve been trying to get them to let us play there, so we might have a new gig bar soon.”

your breathing was more even now, and he squeezed your hand gently. you squeezed back and he smiled.

you could vaguely hear tommy saying he was going to get maintenance, and wilbur shuffled. “i’m gonna see if i can jimmy it with a card. could you grab one for me please?” 

you reached over to will’s desk and grabbed a random card out of his wallet. you went to hand it to him but before he could grab it you took a closer look. “you kept this?”

over a year ago as a joke you’d bought him one of those simp cards from the arthur meme, and it had your name written underneath it. “you’re only allowed to simp for me,” you’d say as you gave it to him, making him crack up.

“yeah,” wilbur admitted, his cheeks turning warm. “guess i forgot it was there.”

he shoved it into the lock and wiggled it around until he heard a click and the door swung open. “here.” he tried to give it back to you, but you shook your head.

“you can keep it, or throw it out. whatever you want. it’s yours,” you babbled, not meeting his eyes.

wilbur wasn’t sure what came over him in the next ten seconds, but before he could stop himself he blurted out “does this mean i’m still allowed to love you?”

your gaze shot up and your eyes met wilbur’s, warm and brown, filled with uncertainty. eventually, you nodded. “always.”

wilbur wasn’t sure if that was if that was an invitation, but before he could stop himself he was wrapping his arms around you. you burrowed into his chest, breathing deeply. “did tommy really parent-trap us?”

“well,” you replied shyly. “don’t they get back together in the parent trap? not exactly accurate to the source material.”

“well we all know how important it is,” wilbur said quietly, eyes flicking down for just an instant. 

“very important,” he could feel your breath on his face.

“it’s a christmas miracle!”

“it’s gonna be if i don’t kill him,” wilbur muttered, teeth gritted as you pulled apart to find tommy. he was holding a stick, and seemed to register your confusion.

“couldn’t find maintenance, so i went outside and found this.” he said proudly. “i was helping.”

“yeah actually,” will said genuinely, holding his hand out. “give us a look.” tommy handed the stick to wilbur and was promptly hit in the face with it. “that’s for locking us in there, bastard.”

“ow.” tommy picked the stick off the ground and chucked it at wilbur, but it just bounced off the door behind him. “okay fine. i’m sorry.”

“you better be,” you stepped towards him and he flinched, clearly sure you were going to attack him like wilbur had. “come on, let’s go.”

as tommy said goodbye to wilbur, the two of you made eye contact over tom’s shoulder. he smiled at you, and you smiled back. he raised his eyebrows slightly, grin overtaking his face. you nodded almost imperceptibly. he’d call you.

he didn’t. 

it had been two weeks since you’d last spoken, and he never called you. you didn’t want to admit that it hurt you. you had spent eight months trying to get over wilbur, all that progress destroyed in an instant.

you’d never deleted his contact, not even when you first broke up. you hovered over it debating on whether to call him, before exiting out and closing your phone.

your phone stayed dark for approximately one second before it was lighting up again. you answered, “yeah, tommy?”

“so, atom, me and a few others were thinking of having a little christmas get together on the 23rd? would you want to come?” he rushed out, wanting to get the words out before you said anything.

you considered it for a second. your parents would be going on holiday. they invited you, but you always wanted to spend your christmas with wilbur. this year, you’d declined again, without really knowing the reason. it’s not like you had other plans.

“yeah, alright,” you said, and you heard tom let out a triumphant breath on the other side. “who’s coming?”

“you, phil and kristin, tubbo, james, ranboo, maybe aimsey, a few other people maybe…” he trailed off, and you frowned.

“wilbur?” you asked.

“yeah.” tommy admitted. “but there will be enough people that you can be a coward and not talk to him.”

“tommy,” you said, voice low. “don’t.”

“okay, i’m sorry. please come?”

it’s not like you had anything better to do. “i’ll be there, tommy. don’t worry.” 

the things you would do for that fucker. he could never know. god knows his head was big enough without you telling him that.

while you were quietly dreading it, tommy seemed almost giddy with excitement. so you forced a smile and acted happy about it, even after tommy abandoned you within thirty seconds of you arriving. 

you managed to strike up a conversation with ranboo, though, grateful that you knew everyone. you’d isolated yourself quite a bit after the breakup, worried that your friends would rather be friends with will.

your worries were shattered when you were  engulfed in a hug from him. they seemed really interested in your upcoming projects and you asked about his with equal fervour. 

the night was going much better than you’d expected, and it was winding down when wilbur finally approached you. joni mitchell singing through the speakers about her lover making her weak in the knees, sipping on a drink with your head resting on top of aimsey’s.

“hey,” he was quiet, words slurred more from being tired than drunk. “can we talk?”

you looked down at aimsey, who was immersed in conversation with james and tommy, so you slid off the counter and followed him down the hall. tommy’s flat was small, so the two of you found a quiet corner. your shoulder was pressed into the wall, looking at him over the rim of your glass as he fiddled with his glasses. “i’m sorry i didn’t call.”

“it’s fine.” you said stiffly.

“no, it’s not.” he pressed. “i fucked up. not just when i didn’t call. i fucked up when we were still together.”

“will,” you tried. “it’s okay. it’s the past.”

“but you’re not.” he said. “you’re not the past, not my past. at least, i don’t want you to be.” he took a shuddering breath. “i was so worried about letting people down that i fucked up, and i ruined us.”

“you didn’t ruin anything.” it came out breathy, just above a whisper and you gave him a watery smile. “definitely not us.”

you didn’t know why you were getting so emotional, maybe it was how cold and dreary it had been, maybe it was exhaustion or the alcohol. or maybe it was because wilbur had taken your hands in his and pressed them to his lips. 

“i’m so sorry, darling,” he murmured against your fingers, squeezing his eyes shut tight. “so so sorry.”

“it’s not your fault, will.” you said. “i could have done something.”

he opened his eyes and met yours, shining as you tried to fight back tears. “i’m so hard to handle, and i’m selfish and i’m sad,” he sang along to joni mitchell softly, pulling you forward to wrap your arms around him. he smelled like cinnamon, and he let you cry for as long as you needed.

you pulled away softly, looking at him as your hand ghosted over his jaw. “you didn’t lose me, will.” 

“you’re saying you think you’re the best baby i ever had?” he asked, eyes shining, and you pushed him away. 

you giggled. “how presumptuous of me.”

“you would be correct though,” he admitted, coming to pull you close again, swaying on the spot. he leant forward and pressed his lips to yours, you threading your hands into his hair.

“you have got to let me cut this,” you mumbled, and wilbur laughed against your mouth. he pressed his forehead against your shoulder, and took a shaky breath.

“i miss you.” he said. “i stopped working so much, i’ve been taking care of myself more. let me love you again?”

his voice wobbled, clearly so sure that you would reject him. he had hurt you, he knew that. will let his thumbs stroke up and down your arms and you got goosebumps even through your jumper. “you do have a permit, don’t you?”

he laughed, relief thick in his voice. “of course, darling. have my card in my wallet.”

“then i guess that’s okay.” you said, as if it didn’t matter to you all that much. “as long as you let me love you.”

“you can do whatever you want,” wilbur kissed you again. “as long as it’s with me.”

[jazziwritesthings]

Disaster - Lee Know

Purely a work of Fiction.

Word Count: 2,765

Pairings: Lee Know x Reader, Jisung x Best Friend Reader

Warnings: Idk that there is any?

*******

To say that you and Minho were friends would be a gross overstatement. Sure you were in the same social circles and had a lot of mutual friends but you had a deep disdain for the man. You couldn’t remember why anymore but you were always one to carry a grudge, even if you couldn’t remember the cause. You used to be a trainee but decided to leave and pursue dancing. You kept a lot of friends in the company though. Which would be how you ended up here. A party in the 3RACHA dorm. Jisung had invited you since you two have become close over the last few years. The only downside to this friendship would be the proximity to Minho. He was not only one of Jisung’s members, he was his best friend. Almost his other half. This caused you to be around Minho more than you would have liked.

Now you stand in the kitchen of the dorm to try and get away from all the people. You had lost Jisung over an hour ago and you didn’t know a lot of other people here. Sure every time a person came into the kitchen you exchanged pleasantries but that was it. The party was starting to feel suffocating. You knew the beginning signs of a panic attack and set off to find Jisung so he could help. However before you could make it farther than the couch your hand was grabbed by none other than Minho himself. You didn’t even have the strength to try and shake him off. “Y/n?” Your name left his lips grabbing your attention, “ Jisung?” He shook his head before standing and dragging you along to wherever he was going. Blindly following the man you hated was not on your radar tonight.

When you look up again you see that you're now in the hall and are entering the other dorm. He gently leads you to the couch and helps you sit before disappearing. He appeared seconds later handing you a water bottle that you gladly took. He placed himself on the floor in front of you. “I need you to breathe with me.” You nodded and were trying but couldn’t get a good rhythm and just ended up more scared because you felt like you couldn’t get enough air into your lungs. “Okay okay.” He got up from the floor and was now glued to your side. He gently placed a hand on your chest and one on your back. He pushed gently making your chest mimic deep breaths. You both stayed like that for a while before he removed himself from your side. Before you could even thank him, he was up and out of the apartment. Leaving you sitting on his couch questioning everything. 

Once you felt stronger you made your way back to the party to see everyone was significantly drunker than when you had left. You needed to find Jisung to tell him you were leaving, otherwise he would have your head in the morning. You found him in his room, shoved up against the door to prevent any visitors. You shoved your shoulder into the door and it must’ve surprised him because he moved allowing you to enter. He visibly relaxed once he realized it was you. He pulled his headphones down to rest around his neck, “ Everything okay Y/n?” You nodded, “ Yeah, I’m just gonna head out.” He pulled you into a hug and smiled once he let go, “ Text me when you get home, Yeah?” Nodding you left his room and made your way to the door. Only someone decided to block your path. Looking up at the person in front of you, you were once again met with Minho. “Can I help you?” You asked him while looking up at his face. Before you understood what was happening you were in Minho’s arms receiving a hug, “ You can’t leave without letting me hug you first.” You were at a loss for words. You were frozen in his arms never expecting this. You felt him rest his chin on your head and he spoke again, “ You’re the perfect height for me to rest my chin on your head.” That sentence was whispered so you thought that was more a thought he wanted to keep to himself and let out accidentally. You gently put your hands on his chest and gave him a gentle shove and he let you go. He looked down at you with such a soft expression you were surprised he was even capable of such a thing. “ Well you are cute, ah! I mean- you're not cute, but you are? I'm just going to shut up now." And before you could even utter a word he was gone, disappearing into the crowd. 

Finally getting home you immediately got into the shower. Trying to scrub the day away but one thing kept coming up, What the hell did Minho think he was doing? Hugging you? Calling you cute? You were pretty sure the whole hating each other thing was mutual but now you’re not so sure. His actions tonight make you rethink your entire relationship. What little of one you’ve had since you met him. Was it all one sided this entire time? You thought about it all night, resulting in not sleeping much. Your alarm startles you from a light sleep. You open your eyes and have just one thought, Did Minho like you?

You tried to distance yourself from everyone while you grappled with all this new found information. It had been nearly two weeks since that party and Jisung texted that he was having another one tonight. You had practice late but would try to show up afterwards. 

Of course, late practice then ran late and you got to the party nearly 4 hours after it had started. You were seriously behind in terms of alcohol consumption but you weren’t worried, drinking wasn’t really your thing. You found a chair in the corner of the living and just relaxed into it slowly drinking the beer you grabbed. You liked people watching, one of your favorite things. Your activity was interrupted however when a body sat in front of your chair. You knew it was Minho right away. You weren’t sure how you knew but you did. Moving your legs to give him more space he gently grabbed your calves before you could move too far. He placed your legs against his chest while you sat there frozen. “ You had practice?” You could form a coherent thought with his hands still on your legs but the noise you made was enough confirmation for him. He took his hand and began to slightly massage your right calf muscle. You couldn’t help but melt into the chair at his touch. It was so gentle and your legs were so sore. He spent a while on your right leg before moving to the left. Your eyes were getting heavy and already knowing you were in the presence of someone safe you let yourself be consumed by sleep. 

Waking up was normal. Until you opened your eyes. You recognized the sheets the moment you saw them. Your entire body relaxed as you realized you were in Jisungs bed. Slowly throwing the covers off you saw you were now in a shirt and a pair of boxers. Your normal borrowed sleep attire. Walking out of the room and into the kitchen you saw Jisung asleep on the couch. You then heard sounds coming from the kitchen and turned the corner to enter. Only to see Minho standing there shirtless and cooking. You rubbed your eyes and groaned. “ Morning Gorgeous.” You groaned even louder, “ Shut up.” You shuffled your way to the couch and decided the best way to wake up your best friend would be with your body weight. He was laying on his stomach on the couch and you laid across his back on your stomach. He groaned and moved a bit and made it so you could wrap your arms around his abdomen, “ Morning Sungie.”  His answer to you was another groan as he started to roll over. You maneuvered yourself to where you were now laying with your head on his chest. He wrapped his arms around you before speaking, “ Get up. I gotta pee.” It caused you to break into loud laughter as you got up so he could move. If he hadn’t asked you to move you never would've looked up and seen the clear look of jealousy written across Minho's face. 

Minho’s POV

Minho heard footsteps coming down the hall before he spotted you. Wearing some of Jisung’s clothes. He never liked when you wore Jisung’s clothes. Or any of the members' clothes. Yet you never asked him. You were always distant with him and he never knew why. He smiled at you as you rubbed your face, “ Morning Gorgeous.” He couldn’t help the tone that it came out with. He hated that. Whenever you were around he was completely at your mercy and you had no idea. The only time he could be okay around you was when he was drinking because then he had an excuse if you didn’t want him around. He watched as you made your way over to Jisung and climbed on top of him. He could feel the jealousy already coursing through his veins and he knew to bite his tongue. If he told you everything would change and he wasn’t sure it would be good. He continued to watch as Jisung rolled over and brought you to rest on his chest. Minho felt his chest tightening with the thought that he wished it was himself instead of Jisung. Now Minho knew there was nothing between you and Jisung. The two of you were practically the same person. Minho turned on his heel as Jisung passed him on the way to the bathroom. Moving back to the stove to continue cooking he felt a presence behind him a few moments later. He looked over his shoulder and saw Jisung leaned against the counter staring at Minho, “ What?” It came out a bit snappier than Minho had anticipated. “Hyung, Why don’t you just tell her how you feel?” Minho hung his head. They had had this conversation so many times. He gave Jisung a look. A look Jisung knew ment, he couldn’t. He was so afraid of change he was willing to suffer because he couldn’t even bear the thought of you leaving the group entirely if you rejected him. He couldn’t let that happen. So he was going to keep his feelings to himself. Although lately it has been really hard. Instead of helping him avoid you, the alcohol was driving him towards you, he was gonna slip up. He just knew. 

Y/n POV

Ever since you saw that one look of jealousy on his face you had been more attuned to Minho then you had ever been before. Honestly it was freaking you out. It was like you could feel him from across the room. The most recent was just a day or so ago when you were all hanging out in the living room of Minho’s dorm. You sat next to Chris on the couch and you liked to play with people's hands when they were talking to you. So in the midst of your conversation with Chris you were playing with his hands in yours. Now, all the boys know you do this and don’t take any issue with it. Except for this time Chris pulled his hands away and put them in his pocket while looking somewhere behind you. It was then that you felt it. It was like someone was burning holes into your back. You whipped around only to catch Minho giving Chris what could only be described as a death glare. 

“Jisung!” You called as you walked into the 3RACHA dorm. Bin looked up from his phone and smiled at you from the couch, “In his room.” You smiled and made your way to his room. Knocking ,” Are you decent?” The door swung open and he gestured for you to come in. You sat on his bed, “ I need help.” He was confused as he sat down next to you, “What do you mean?” 

“I think Minho likes me.”

“Okay?”

“And I don’t know what to do about it or how to feel.”

“And you need my help, with what exactly?”

“I don’t know.”

“Y/n. That's not helpful.” 

You just let out a groan as you threw yourself backwards to lay on his bed.

“Why can’t he just make a move already?”

“Do you want him to?”

“Oh shit. I- I guess I do.”

“Holy shit.”

“Holy shit. I like Minho.”

Jisung started laughing, “ I’m glad you finally figured that out. But how are you gonna tell him?”

“I’m not.”

“Y/n.”

“Jisung.”

“ You’ve had the revelation, now what do you want to do with this new found information?” 

“I really don’t know. Would he even give me a chance with how much of an ass I've been the entire time I’ve known him?”

“Trust me. I know him pretty well. He will.”

“How do I do this?”

“Just tell him?”

“Gosh Jisung. I hadn’t thought of that.” As you playfully smack his arm.

“Wanna make him have no choice but to make a move?” You turn to face him with eyebrows raised. 

“I’ll take care of everything. Just be here tomorrow night at like 9.” You nodded, not making a move to get up.

It was slightly past 9 when you showed up, letting yourself into the dorm to see the guys and some of their girlfriends. Everyone was in matching pajamas with their partners. “Y/n! Your pjs are in Jisung’s room.” You went to his room and changed, coming out to see that you didn’t match Jisung like you thought you would no, you matched Minho. You saw him look from you to Jisung then to himself, taking notice that your pjs matched his. His ears turned bright red. The night started out with movies and games. Now it was nearing 1am and everyone was slightly wine drunk, “ I have an idea!” Jisung pipes up. Everyone turned their attention to the man who now seemed giddy, awaiting an explanation. 

“PEPERO!” He yelled out before running off into his room, returning with a box. You could feel your face heating up. If this was his idea of how to tell Minho, you weren’t sure you liked it. It started off easy with the couples of course going first. Then went to some of the members and lots of hooting and hollering before it was your turn to be matched with someone. “Wait! Let's do it blind folded.” Before you could object there was a piece of cloth covering your eyes, “Open.” Opening your mouth, you feel the pepero placed in your teeth. Sitting on your knees completely blind you waited. It took a while and a lot of coaxing from the others, then there were two hands placed on your cheeks, tilting your head ever so slightly. You could feel the person get quite close but bite before your noses even touched. “Awe c’mon!” You took the blindfold off just in time to see Minho turn towards Jisung, “I’m not gonna just kiss her without consent!” He looked back at you, not expecting you to have taken off the blindfold. “You have consent.” His ears and neck turned red immediately as he shook his head, “What?” You moved your body so you were closer to him, “I said, you have my consent.”  He didn’t want his brain to stop him again. It was sudden, his hands rested gently on your cheeks and brought your face to his. Lips meeting gently. The kiss was slow. Nothing more than two peoples' lips meeting but you could feel like fireworks going off in your heart and the butterflies fluttering in your stomach. He pulled away; eyes still closed. The boys were once again yelling. He dropped his hand from your face. He slowly met your gaze to see you smiling. You brought your hand to his face and moved impossibly close to him. Nudging your nose against his you quickly place another short kiss to his lips. Barley above a whisper, “I think I love you” A smile graced his gorgeous features before he replied, "I've been in love with you for 5 years, thanks for finally catching up." 

**********

A/n: I could try a part 2 but idk, probably be just fluff, or i could make it angsty.