#I’ll do fluffy stuff too I promise

[mindie-arts]

Ⱥ.S.L

[nereidprinc3ss]

light of the morning

in which spencer sneaks into bau!reader's hotel room and they share a little more than just the bed

18+ (smut) warnings/tags: softdom!spence x sub reader, munch!spence, unprotected piv sex (dont do that), creampie (hate that word btw) praise, mentions of having to be quiet because morgan is right next door LOL, fluffy, established co-workers/friends with benefits, soooo idiots in love a/n: here is the promised smut. i am literally kicking my feet and twirling my hair and giggling and blushing at my own writing. I'm gonna have a freak out. requests are open like my legs

It’s late when the knock finally comes. Late enough that you’re dozing on the bed above the covers. 

It takes you a moment to reorient yourself—you’re rubbing your heavy eyes when you finally get the door. 

"Hi."

"Hey," says Spencer, hands awkwardly shoved into his pajama pants pockets. It’s funny, really. He never gets any better at this. 

You step aside and he enters the room, looking around as you close and relock the door. 

"Did I wake you?"

"How could you tell?"

"You’re in pajamas. And you look tired. I mean—you don’t look bad. You never look bad, I just meant… you don’t look tired but you’re not—I didn’t mean to—"

"Relax," you yawn, putting him out of his misery. "I was joking. I know I look tired." You glance at the digital clock on the nightstand. "It’s late. We have to be up early tomorrow."

"Yeah, I got, uh, sidetracked. Sorry."

He was reading. If it was anyone else, you'd be offended--but a sinkhole could open up under Spencer's feet and he probably wouldn't notice if he was absorbed in a book.

You shrug, a knowing smile lifting the corner of your mouth. 

"It’s fine. But I don’t know if tonight is a good night. I really am exhausted."

His eyebrows dart up. 

"That’s fine. That’s totally fine. I’ll just, uh—"

When you don’t move from in front of the door, he pauses, unsure. You bite the inside of your cheek, studying his rangy frame and choice of clothing. Blue pajama pants, slippers, grey CalTech zip up hoodie. It feels wrong to describe a 6'1 man as adorable, but that’s how he looks in his sleep clothes. There’s a very real chance, you find yourself thinking, that you are the only member of the BAU to ever see him in something other than slacks and a button-down. He looks so cozy that you kind of really want him in your bed even if he’s not doing anything but sleeping. The invitation slips out before you can think too hard about it. 

"You could… stay, anyway, if you want?"

His mouth parts slightly, and those eyebrows raise again. There’s a moment of awkward silence and you are very much beginning to regret your offer, wondering if you somehow violated the sanctity of your co-workers/friends with benefits situtationship. Clumsily you try to backtrack. 

"Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, you can—"

"No, no! You didn’t, I just don’t want you to feel obligated to invite me to stay in your room. I’m right across the hall, I can go back if you want me to."

You smile awkwardly, silent relief replacing the brief anxiety. 

"It’s fine. It’s not like we haven’t shared a bed before." And not like you wouldn’t have ended up doing it tonight anyway, if things had gone as originally intended.

He chuckles, looking to the floor and nodding. The blush on his face does not go unnoticed by you. "Fair enough."

It’s incredibly endearing how nervous he still gets after six months of this little arrangement. 

"Do you wanna get your stuff, or…"

"No, that’s okay. I’ll just go back early tomorrow. The chances of someone seeing me leave your room are significantly higher if I do it so soon after entering."

You squint, unable to tell if he’s fucking with you or if that’s an actual statistically sound probability. And then you realize, blissfully, that you don’t really care. 

"Okay, well. Make yourself comfortable. I’m just going to brush my teeth."

Once you’re enclosed in the bathroom, hotel vanity lights blinding you as you brush, you find that there is a jittery sort of apprehension buzzing in your chest. But that’s silly. As you yourself pointed out, the two of you have shared a bed many times over the past few months. But the sleeping together is always a byproduct of the sleeping together. Never have you shared a bed in a completely decent, virtuous, strictly non-sexual manner. It’s always been a matter of convenience—less bother if he doesn’t have to worry about sneaking back into his room in the middle of the night when you’re both exhausted. Or maybe that’s just what you’ve been telling yourselves. 

You rinse your mouth out and exit the bathroom, flicking off the light and finding that Spencer has indeed made himself comfortable. The hotel room is dark and he’s already under the covers, fiddling with his phone. 

"What time should I set the alarm for?" He asks, looking over at you as you crawl into bed, drawing the covers over yourself. "I was thinking 6:23. That should give me enough time to—"

"Sounds perfect," you affirm, wiggling under the blanket as you get comfortable. He schedules the alarm and sets his phone on the bedside table, dousing the room in complete darkness. Your eyes stay open despite, waiting for them to adjust. A few moments of utter silence and stillness pass, and you can tell Spencer is completely stiff next to you. 

"Spencer."

“Yeah,” he answers immediately. Like he’s even more wired about this whole situation than you are. 

"You know you don’t have to avoid touching me at all costs, right? I’m not a leper."

He looses a nervous laugh. 

"I know. We’ve just never really done this."

You frown at the darkness.

"We’ve definitely slept in the same bed before."

"Yeah, but… this feels different."

That, you can’t argue with. Can friends with benefits share a bed just to be near each other? Does that blur some line? And why does it feel more intimate than the sex? 

Screw it. If there is one thing you don’t want your relationship with Spencer to be, it is uncomfortable. Uncertain, you can work with. But not uncomfortable. You reach for him, hand sliding under the duvet—and find his hand already waiting for yours. 

"I don’t think it’s that different," you lie, interlacing your fingers together slowly. 

"Prolonged physical non-sexual contact does have measurable health benefits…" the words are murmured, like the moment is fragile and he doesn’t want to shatter it. 

"Can’t argue with the facts," you breathe, trying to modulate the shakiness of your voice. But you have a feeling you’re doing about as good of a job at concealing your nerves as he is. He shifts.

"Can I…"

"Yeah."

Your heart is pounding as he slips one arm under your neck and the other around your waist, pulling you close. Instinctually you curl into him, slinging your top leg over him as you’ve done before, but always dismissed as post-sex brain chemicals making you feel all warm and fuzzy. A neurological reaction that is so solidly scientific, neither of you ever questioned it. But it feels bigger now. 

He exhales as you settle against each other—a sound of relief that mirrors your own. He’s so warm, so safe as he envelops you, physically and sensorially. In such close proximity, so clear-headed, you notice each layer of his scent. Toothpaste, lavender, vetiver, detergent. You sort of feel like a creep, but you can’t deny how comforting it is. Nor can you deny the pirouette your heart does when he begins minutely rubbing your back, like he’s not even thinking about it. 

"Goodnight," you whisper into his shirt. 

"Goodnight," he whispers back. 

You fall asleep pretty quickly after that. 

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

It’s unclear what wakes you up—maybe it’s the blue-grey dawn light filtering in through the filthy window (doubtful, it’s still mostly dark) or maybe it’s the blinking green digital clock on the nightstand. 5:02 AM. Your alarm will go off in an hour and 21 minutes.

Sometime in the night you shifted, turning over in your sleep, but Spencer is still holding you close. The arm slung so casually over your waist is slightly domineering, but you manage to rotate again and face him once more. Mere inches away from his face you can see every detail. His expression is so peaceful, it makes your heart ache. 

But you’re just friends. 

Perhaps he felt you moving, because his eyes flutter open and you watch as they flood with consciousness. He takes you in, takes in his arm over your waist. For a split second you’re nervous he’ll pull away. 

"What time is it?" His voice is scratchy with sleep. 

"Five."

"Why are you awake? We have over an hour til the alarm goes off."

"Sometimes waking up early is okay."

His eyes flicker between your own, and momentarily you’re paralyzed as you realize this is a limbo state for the two of you in which you’ve never operated. You don’t know what’s acceptable. You don’t know what to do. Being close to him feels so good, that the idea of separating hurts. But you don’t want to make him uncomfortable, or—

He leans forward and kisses you softly. In the blue light of dawn, rather than frenzied and hidden in the dark, a desperate tear of clothes and teeth and hands—it’s almost freeing. All the anxiety you were feeling just seconds ago begins to melt. 

Friends. 

"You looked anxious," is his whispered answer after he pulls away a moment later, like a kiss is the simplest remedy in the world. He brushes a lock of hair behind your ear. "We should go back to sleep."

"I don’t want to go back to sleep."

The corner of his mouth twitches as he studies you.  

"No? What do you want?"

Emboldened by your mutual indiscretion, it’s your turn to kiss him. You feel him smile against your lips, hand finding the back of your neck and raking up through your hair to pull you closer. 

The delirium of sleep seems to have softened you, filed down the rough edges of your boundaries and kicked away the lines in the sand. What’s a kiss or two when you’ve just woken up? A small, innocuous display of affection while you’re still barely conscious. Nobody could fault either of you for that. People don’t think clearly when they’ve just been asleep.

So what if your lips part against his, and his other hand finds its way under your shirt to stroke the bare skin of your waist and hips? So what if you hitch that leg over him again and press closer?

Spencer breaks the kiss, still ghosting over your lips. 

"I thought it wasn’t a good night?"

"It’s not night time anymore, is it, genius?"

You sneak another kiss, nipping his bottom lip gently as you pull away. 

Instead of whatever array of responses you were expecting, Spencer smiles slightly, eyes almost sparkling in the faint light. The hand on your hip moves to your face, gently thumbing across your cheek. He begins to say something, and stops himself—biting his lip to hold back the words. 

"What?" you ask, heart dropping. Illusion fracturing. 

"I was just—" he begins, pausing for a moment before the words all come out in a rush. "I was just going to tell you how beautiful you are, but I don’t know if that’s something I should say, or if it would feel too… I don’t know…"

He trails off. A rare instance in which he doesn’t have the words. 

You do. Intimate. Real. Romantic. And he’s right, it does feel too much like all of those things. But that doesn’t mean you don’t like it, perhaps more than is strictly good for you. 

"It’s fine. Thank you."

He continues chewing on his lip for a moment. 

"Did I just ruin the mood?"

"No," you laugh, "not at all."

"Thank god," he sighs, surging forward again. 

"Since when do you thank god?" You manage between kisses. 

He moves to press his lips to your jaw and down your neck. 

"Do you want me to talk about the historical and cultural transition of religious expressions into ubiquitous secular colloquialisms right now?"

"Kind of," you breathe.

"No you don’t," he murmurs against your neck as his hands find the hem of your shirt. "You want me to take your clothes off."

Well, he’s not wrong there. 

You help him tug the shirt over your head before leaning back into the pillows as he situates himself over you and lavishes more kisses down your neck and collarbones, pausing to suck a mark only when he knows it’s low enough to be covered by your clothing later. 

You gasp when his lips brush over your nipple, before running his tongue over the sensitive skin. He glances up at you, and though his mouth is occupied, you can see the humor in his eyes. He loves how sensitive you are—how easy it is to get a reaction out of you. 

Of course, you continue to prove him right when he takes the other into his mouth, trying to hold back your little whimpers as he darts his tongue over the peak. Maybe somebody else wouldn’t hear them, but Spencer does. He’s hyper attuned to the sounds you make. Something of a catalogue has begun to form in the back of his mind; he knows exactly what each noise means and how to get them out of you. 

Once satisfied, he moves to press a kiss to your sternum. 

"You’re gonna be quiet for me, right?" Another kiss above your bellybutton. "Because Morgan is sleeping right on the other side of that wall, and we don’t want to wake him up."

"I’ll be quiet," you promise, somewhat breathlessly. Spencer’s mouth trails lower until he’s pulling your shorts down your legs, leaving you completely naked. He tosses them somewhere on the floor and hooks your legs over his shoulders. 

"Good." He plants one last kiss to your thigh and the next one lands right between your legs. 

You regret the need to be silent almost as soon as he drags his tongue over your clit. It’s not like the two of you have ever had the privilege of making a lot of noise, as the hotel rooms are always so close to each other, but it doesn’t make it any easier. 

Instead you opt to rake your hands through his hair and try to take deep breaths. But he knows exactly what you like—he knows starting light and slow, teasing around your most sensitive spot will work you up to the brink of insanity, just like he knows gentle circles make your back arch and elicit the prettiest little moans. 

"More," you beg, and the hands wrapped around your thighs rub soothingly, reassuring you that if you can just be patient you’ll get what you want. 

He takes your aching clit into his mouth, sucking lightly and you’re forced to clap a hand over your mouth, muffling the sob of pleasure you can’t hold back. Spencer keeps it up until you’re practically riding his face, teasing your dripping entrance with the tip of his tongue when you get too close. 

"Fuck, please, Spence," you whisper through your fingers, hips rutting in your desperation. Somehow it always ends up like this—with him in charge and you begging. Not that you have a problem with it, of course. 

He hums into you, and if the way his tongue moves back to circling your clit with newfound fervor is any indication, is apparently satisfied with your entreaty. 

You gasp and try to control your breathy moans, but his mouth feels so good on you that your vision is going out and you’re losing touch with reality ever so slightly. You use the last of your brain power to bite down on the back of your wrist, hoping it adequately muffles the noises you make as you come on Spencer’s tongue and he greedily continues lapping at you. There’s really no way of knowing—your ears are ringing anyway. 

When you come to a moment later he’s peppering kisses on your thighs, rubbing your hips gently. 

"So pretty," he murmurs, climbing back up so your lips can meet again. "Everything about you is pretty."

You paw at his shirt, signaling that you want it off as you moan at the taste of yourself on his tongue, feel your slippery arousal staining the kiss. Spencer helps you, sitting up briefly to unzip his hoodie and pull off his shirt. 

You’re the one to drag him back down, and you notice that he pulls the covers back over the both of you in a sweet gesture he probably didn’t even think about. 

"Need you to fuck me," you beg, reaching down to try and undress him further. 

"So crude. What happened to my nice, sweet girl?" He mumbles against your neck, but helps you with his pants anyway. 

"You must have me confused with someone else."

"Doubtful."

You don’t have much time to consider what that could mean before he’s running the head of his cock over your clit and you’re gasping into his mouth, saying please like it’s the only word you know. 

"There she is," Spencer croons, slipping inside you slow enough for you to feel every inch but quick enough for it to expel all the air from your lungs. Once he’s opened you all the way up, impossibly deep and close, you’re seeing stars, barely breathing. His head has dropped to your shoulder but now he drags his lips up your neck and jaw. "We okay?"

It’s been a while, you realize, since that last case in Maine. He always takes some getting used to. Hardly able to think around the pressure of his cock you nod, trying to string together a few words. 

"Fuck, I need a second." The words come out choked, but you manage. Spencer rubs your hip, his lips brushing yours as he speaks. 

"Relax, sweetheart. I don’t want to hurt you."

He curses to himself, dropping his head momentarily. You’re so fucking soft, and warm, and perfect, he can’t think straight. But he has to try because he has to take care of you. 

"Spence," you gasp, failing to verbally communicate the intensity of the physical sensation. 

"I know, baby," comes his sympathetic coo. "You know you can take me. Deep breaths."

"Mhm," you squeak, trying to take follow his directions and soften your muscles. Spencer keeps rubbing soothingly over your hips, stomach, whatever he can get his hands on, really, pressing kisses all over your face and telling you how good you are, how perfect you feel for him. After a few moments he feels you fluttering around him and experimentally pulls out halfway, before pushing back in equally as slowly. Your jaw drops as he begins to leisurely fuck you, arms wrapping around his back. He gets deeper than you expect every time, rubbing you raw and stretching you out in the most delicious way. 

"Perfect, baby. Such a good listener, did exactly what I asked."

You cry out when he begins fucking you impossibly deeper, but still so slow and sweet.

"You feel so fucking good for me," he groans. "This is what you were made for, huh?" You agree enthusiastically, eyes fluttering shut. 

"Only for you."

Just three words—but he wasn’t expecting to like hearing you say that as much as he does. A strong desire to possess you overtakes him—one that he’ll probably have the decency to feel guilty about later, but for now feels fucking fantastic and intoxicating. 

"Only me?"

You moan an affirmation. 

"Good. I don’t want anyone else fucking you, do you understand me?"

"Yes!"

"I’m the only one who gets to touch you," he breathes, speeding up ever so slightly, "nobody else is going to feel you like this. Such a good girl, spreading her legs for me at five in the fucking morning. You’re not doing this for anybody else, baby."

"Uh-uh, please, pleasepleaseplease Spence—"

He knows what you need, reaching a hand down between your bodies to rub your clit. 

You gasp an airy, high pitched curse, hips twitching but unable to escape the near-punishing rhythm of his own. It’s obvious that your orgasm is close, but you can’t even warn him, too overwhelmed with pleasure. He kisses you, swallowing your moans that have probably become just a bit too loud given the whole hotel thing. 

No words are exchanged between the two of you as you near the finish line for a change, open mouths slipping against each others in what is too messy to be called a kiss. Your orgasm body-slams you, a choked silent scream as you tighten around Spencer and he seems to come at nearly the exact same moment—deep inside you, slowly rolling his hips in a few more strong thrusts as he finishes. 

You let out a delayed moan at the sensation of being filled up, still pulsing around him as he comes to a halt, buried inside of you. He drops his head to your neck, and you can feel each breath against your flushed skin. Other than the panting, you’re both silent for a while. Spencer seems to gather himself sooner than you do, finally breaking the quiet. 

"You okay?"

All you can manage is a little squeak, at which he looses a breathy chuckle. His hand slides to your hip, gently stroking the skin with a thumb. 

"Need your words, angel girl."

"I’m okay," you coo into his shoulder, but he has to strain to hear it above his own breathing. 

"Yeah? Why so quiet?"

But it seems that at least for the moment, he’s gotten all the words he can out of you. When he tries to move, you whimper indignantly, clutching onto him tighter. 

"I really did a number on you this time, huh?" He laughs when you nod into him. "Are you falling asleep?"

"Mhm," you hum dreamily, little puffs of warm air slowing against his neck. 

"You can have…" he cranes his head to check the digital clock, "48 minutes."

"An hour."

He settles his weight on you once more, pressing a chaste kiss to your throat. His voice is low and gentle as he admonishes you. 

"I said 48 minutes."

But it doesn’t matter—you’re already asleep, or close enough to it. Spencer takes the opportunity to shift you to your side, and the way you wrap around him like a vine even unconsciously makes his heart ache. He really should go now—the earlier he gets out of your room the less likely certain complications will arise—but how can he possibly leave you like this? A vulnerable, dreamy girl with tangled hair haloing around her on the pillow case, clinging to him with blind trust that he’ll watch over her as she sleeps? No—there’s no way he’s leaving yet. Instead, he brings you closer. 48 perfect minutes will go by far too quickly, he’s sure. 

[synthetickitsune]

Bunny Troubles ✧ h.js

Pairing: Joshua Hong x reader (gn) Genre: fluff Summary: Who’d have thought a man like Joshua could turn into a puddle of misery on the whim of a little bunny? Word count: 1.9k Warnings: i never owned a bunny in my life so excuse any innacuracies for the sake of the plot A/N: this is once again @hanniedream's fault because ofc it is, because it always is

“Uhm, love?” you say shyly, quietly, trying hard to conceal your nervousness.

“Love? Is something wrong?” Joshua catches on immediately regardless of your efforts or the fact that he can’t even see you through the phone. You can only sigh.

You look at your friend for support from where she’s sitting with a bunny in her arms and she gives you a thumbs up before you step out into the hall and close the door behind you.

“What do you think about a week of bunny sitting? My friend is going on a vacation and her parents canceled on her last minute.”

“Say that again,” you can hear your boyfriend pause whatever he was doing.

“Shua, you heard me,” you groan, “She will give us everything we’ll need and she’ll bring the stuff over and help me bunny proof the place. It’s just the living room, so it doesn’t wake us up if it’s noisy in the night. She even made a little pamphlet with instructions and important information and the vet’s contact if anything happened.”

You can practically hear the way he holds back a sigh. Waiting for his answer, though, you already start to imagine the little fluffy creature hopping around your living room.

“What if it doesn’t like me?” he asks. That wasn’t really the concern you were expecting if you’re honest.

“Come again?” you deadpan.

“The meerkat on set didn’t like me either, what if I’m just cursed to be disliked by tiny animals,” there’s a pout in his voice, which is pretty much a sign of your victory.

“No no, my friend said it’s the cuddliest bunny she ever had and that it likes being handled,” you coo excitedly, “And the few times I came over it was really sweet and friendly. It cuddles with me today too.”

“But I’m meant to be your cuddly bunny,” Joshua grumbles very quietly on the other side of the phone.

“Baby I think I’ll need to start recording these calls,” you tease and chuckle when you hear your boyfriend whine some more. “Anyway, it’s just a week. Please? She really needs the help and nobody else is available.”

“You know I can never say no to you,” he sighs, “But I don’t want to hear a word of getting one for ourselves, yeah?”

“I promise,” you try to hide your excitement, “I love you. We’ll be waiting for you to come home.”

“I’m kicking it out if it doesn’t like me,” he warns you playfully before saying his goodbyes and hanging up.

“I’m home,” Joshua calls upon closing the front door behind him carefully, mindful of the creature whose presence is already noticeable by the little fence standing in the doorway of the living room.

“Welcome home,” you call back, your voice soft and clearly strained with emotions. He chuckles to himself, first making his way to the bedroom to change into something comfortable before joining you.

He secures the temporary precaution once he steps into the room and smiles again seeing you sitting by the cage with your hand at the door and the bunny sniffing your palm curiously.

“Getting friendly?” he teases, sitting down a good distance from you to avoid scaring the animal who’s already eyeing him with what he thinks is caution.

“I just fed her some snacks, so I think she hopes for more,” you coo without really looking at him, “Her name is Lola by the way.”

He scoffs, making you groan too. “I know, okay? I wasn’t the one naming her.”

“I can see the resemblance though,” Joshua shakes his head with a smile. The bunny’s colors do kind of resemble those of the character. “Do you think she’ll hate it if I come closer?”

“Nope, just take one of those and you’ll be fine,” you nod towards a little packet lying on the floor next to the cage, “I promise I’ll clean up tomorrow, I just didn’t feel like it this late.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he reassures you, quickly stealing a kiss while you move to make room for him at the cage’s open door. The bunny stays surprisingly calm, only putting his paws down on the ground instead of looking out of the cage.

“Hey little one,” Joshua coos at the fluffy ball, and you can already see the enamored sparkle in his eyes, “Let’s get along, hm?”

The bunny’s nose twitches before it returns to its original position and after sniffing Joshua’s fingers for a bit, it discovers the treat and eagerly takes it from him. 

“I think she likes you,” you chuckle. Your boyfriend then moves back to give the bunny space and lets you pull him in for a proper kiss this time. 

“How was your day?” you ask, resting your head on his shoulder as you watch the bunny bobbing its head and hesitating by the open door, unsure if it wants to explore the unfamiliar territory.

“Good, nothing too exciting. She’s cuter than I expected though,” he leans his head against yours.

“Not one word of wanting to get one for ourselves,” you tease, earning yourself a gentle nudge. “Let’s watch something on tv? Maybe she’ll feel more comfortable if we’re not this close. Oh, and I could show you the guide we got.”

The rest of the evening is spent on the couch, Shua resting in your embrace as you go through the brochure together - and him googling tips on how to befriend a bunny faster. Although the animal in your care seems tame enough that his research might prove to be completely useless. 

The bunny doesn’t venture too far away from its cage, but simply the fact that it left its safe sanctuary is a win in your books. The television is just a nice background noise while you both focus on the curious creature hopping around. 

Over the next couple days the bunny gets quite comfortable. Soon enough it’s exploring the entire expanse of the living room, trying to escape further and you let it - with your strict supervision. The animal is an angel, cuddly and sweet - both to you and Joshua. You were a little skeptical when your friend told you her bunny is the friendliest she’s ever seen and wouldn’t last a second in the wild but turns out she was right. And it also turns out that she’ll be her own bunny’s second favorite human when she gets back.

You can’t say you’re surprised exactly when the bunny starts to clearly prefer Joshua’s attention, but it’s very entertaining that your boyfriend keeps trying to persuade the animal to like you more. It’s not that it doesn’t like you, it does, and it’s very affectionate with you. It’s just that wherever Shua appears, you’re immediately just a back up human. 

The bunny lets itself be handled and carried by him, and it’s impossible for you both not to swoon when you see how tiny the animal looks sitting in Joshua’s hands or held in his arms. Treats work well to lure it away from your boyfriend, but it quickly returns once it finishes eating it. At least it’s not jealous and is willing to share him with you, and your boyfriend glows like the sun with you cuddled into his side and the bunny sleeping on his chest.

Anyway - Joshua is the bunny’s favorite human. Even your friend confirmed that much when you facetimed her one night and showed her how her pet behaves.

That’s why it is so confusing when your boyfriend calls you in distress.

“Baby? Baby I did something and now she hates me!”

It takes you a second and another whiny babyyy to process what’s going on and drop the dinner preparations for the sake of your boyfriend and his side chick’s drama.

Joshua sits with his back against the couch, already looking at you with a pout and eyes pleading. You try not to laugh seeing him and look for the bunny instead - not too far away and… stomping her little feet? Thumping. 

“What did you do?” you accuse, pretending to scold him as you sit down next to him. 

“Nothing! I don’t know,” he whines, turning his head left and right, throwing pleading looks yours and the bunny’s way. “Why does she hate me?”

“I don’t know, but according to the guide this means she’s annoyed, so what did you do to her?” you try really hard not to chuckle at his distress. Who’d have thought a man like him could turn into a puddle of misery on the whim of a little bunny.

“Nothing,” he mumbles with a sigh, extending a hand towards the animal. It pushes it away with its paws with another thump and you do fail and laugh at that. You’re quick to coo over your boyfriend when he turns to you with disbelief written all over his face though, his pout deepening. 

“We’ll figure this out, Shua,” you chuckle, kissing his cheek, “You’re her favorite, remember?”

He nods, sighing as the bunny thumps again. It’s cute as ever, maybe more so throwing a tantrum like this.

“So what did you do - what were you doing before she got like this?” you ask, rubbing his arm soothingly. He leans into your touch and he looks so miserable that you almost feel bad for laughing.

“Nothing, I told you,” he -thump- sulks, “I was just petting her.”

Thump thump.

“And then?” you prod.

“Nothing.” Thump thump. “I was petting her and then I stretched, so I- oh.”

Oh indeed.

“Why would you stop petting her and then be all surprised that she’s annoyed with you? Do you have any idea how upsetting it is?” you frown at him.

“Why am I being targeted?” he grumbles before smirking a little, “But thank you for your insight.”

You push his shoulder. “Don’t give in,” you tell the bunny.

“No no no, I learned from my mistakes,” Joshua turns towards the bunny and slowly extends his hand to its little head, “I’m so sorry, little one. Forgive me please.”

He pets it slowly, his fingers stroking the soft fur with patience and dedication that really makes it seem like he’s begging for forgiveness. You regret not having your phone on you to take a video. 

And then suddenly the bunny starts moving, no longer thumping its legs but instead slowly walking towards your boyfriend before climbing onto his legs and settling on his lap. Joshua beams at you and resumes petting the bunny, overjoyed at being forgiven.

“Am I the bunny whisperer?” he whispers, cooing at the fluffball in his lap. You roll your eyes.

“Yeah, and a drama queen,” you tease, but he ignores you in favor of making up with the bunny. It’s a cute look though, so you don’t mind not bickering with him.

“I know I said I don’t want to hear a word about-”

“No.”

He pouts at you when you shut him down immediately.

“Let’s just offer a free bunny sitting whenever, hm?” you suggest.

“Let’s steal her,” Joshua wiggles his brows at you mischievously. You breathe a long sigh.

Then again maybe looking at Joshua with a cute fluffy bunny cuddled up to him every day wouldn’t be so bad. Especially if all it takes for him to get all pouty is a few annoyed thumps.

Now you can only hope your bunny of a boyfriend won’t take on any of her habits.

[inkwolvesandcoffee]

How John Comes Home from Deployment

CoD ML

John hates coming home from deployment during the cold periods of the year.

Don’t get me wrong, he loves the sight of you asleep in your shared bed, wrapped up nice and snug in the thick comforter. A smile never fails to spread on his lips when he notices the pattern of your shirt, barely visible in the dusk yet enough for him to notice. Fortunately he has his flannel shirts to keep you warm when he can’t.

John knows you’re more than capable to take care of yourself. Nevertheless, he can’t help but grit his teeth at the thought you had to tuck yourself in yet again. That’s his job!

But the annoyance, as per usual, subsides at the scene in front of him: you snuggling with the warmy (a stuffed animal that contains a bag with cherry pits you have to heat in the microwave) he got you. He vividly recalls how you giggled that day, the way you compared him to the brown grizzly bear in your hands. “A rather striking image, innit? It’s like looking in the mirror.”

“That how you see me?”

“Especially in the morning when you haven’t had your cigar and tea yet.” He wrapped you up in his arms, pride swelling in his chest as you snuggled into it. “You’re my bear.”

My bear.

It’s the nickname he never envisioned himself liking. However, now, there isn’t anything else he’d rather be called.

Aside from Daddy.

John has embedded the way you say it in his fantasy and often thinks of it, plays it like his favourite song over and over. Out in the field, it’s a sure fire way for him to not lose morale. Moreover, it fuels his determination to return home, no matter the cost.

(And the rest of his boys too, of course!)

He has to.

If only because there is an important question he needs to ask. Should right now, after months of gathering the courage.

But he lets you sleep.

This can wait until the morning.

Quietly John puts his stuff in the corner by the door, grabs a shirt and pair of sweats out of your shared wardrobe, and slips into the bathroom to change. However, not before he has caressed your cheek, made sure he’s kept his promise. The talon of anguish lets go of his throat when he finds your skin dry and free of the little salty black rivulets that stained it last time. Thank God, he hasn’t made you cry again.

“The next time I do, I’ll retire,” he recalls telling you when he lifted you off of the couch. You’d fallen asleep there, wrapped up in your favourite white fluffy blanket like a burrito.

For as long as you could, you stayed awake to welcome him home in person. Unfortunately, you lost the fight around one in the morning. Two hours later, John stepped through the door, knackered and a little heartbroken at the sight of you clutching one of his shirts like it’s your lifeline. He didn’t mind the stains your mascara had made on it.

The same can’t be said for the fact your act had crumbled behind his back yet again. Time and again he’s told you it’s fine to cry, to tell each other you miss them, to not always pretend to be fine.

Because he knows you aren’t.

And neither is he.

Yet the decision he’s made might change things, bring some peace. Even if you tell him he’s insane and shouldn’t do it because it will be like throwing away everything he stands for, he stands by his word.

This was the final mission.

From now on, he’s simply John Price.

A man craving to settle down with his beloved.

The girl who instinctively snuggles into him the moment he lies down. Whose presence soothes and dispels the worst of his ghosts. Who drives his determination to improve himself day by day.

To do better as a man rather than a captain.

To be the best husband he can be.

Until then, John is as he is now.

Exhausted yet perfectly content.

Next to his fiancée.

Home.

[forever-rogue]

Hi, how are you?

What about something with Joel being reunited with reader, they find out they're alive those 20 years after (they had been hanging out for a while and were so in love with each other, but then the outbreak happened)

Thank you so much ❤️ your writing is amazing!!

AN | You ordered some fluffy fluff? Well, here it is! Enjoy ❤️

Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Language, Mild spoilers for TLOU 2 (if you squint)

Word Count | 3.7k

Masterlist | Joel, Main

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Do you ever wonder if we’ll find love again?” 

“What?” you snorted in amusement as you lifted your head to look at the girl lying next to you. She turned to you with a sheepish girl, biting her lip as she shrugged at you, “I guess I’ve never really thought about it.”

“You’ve never thought about falling in love again?” a dreamy sigh escaped her lips, but she kept her gaze turned up towards the night sky. The two of you were lying on the roof of her building, studying the stars.

“I don’t know,” you admitted in earnest, reaching for her arm and giving it a gentle squeeze, “for a long time we weren’t really at liberty to think about that kind of stuff. And I guess I got so used to not having…someone that I never really thought about it anymore.”

“So you haven’t had-”

“I didn’t say that,” you  rolled onto your stomach and perched your chin in your hand as you studied her, “there’s a difference between sex and love, and sometimes we all need some release.”

“I suppose you’re right,” she giggled, covering her warm face as you shrugged, “I don’t know…I just think I like the idea that someday I could fall in love again.”

“And you will,” you promised sweetly, brushing a few locks of hair out of her face, “you’re amazing, Allie. Someone is going to be very lucky to love you and be loved by you.”

“You’re right,” she grinned coquettishly, “I am pretty fucking amazing.”

“Duh.”

“You’ll find someone too,” she insisted and you tried to play her off, “if you want to.”

“I don’t know if I’d even want to,” you confessed softly, turning your face away so she couldn’t see the tears welling up in your eyes. You’d thought you’d had it all, and that you’d met the one. Once upon a time, you’d thought he was going to be your future - now you didn’t even know if he was alive, “I don’t…I’ll be okay if it never happens.”

“Everyone deserves love,” she insisted and while you weren’t so sure, you couldn’t deny that her enthusiasm was infectious, “what was his name?”

“Joel,” you whispered softly, the name feeling almost off and foreign on your lips, “his name was Joel.”

“What was he like?” Allie was under the firm belief that talking about things, even if they were painful, was the best therapy of all. You inhaled deeply before slowly exhaling, overwhelmed by a mixture of emotions all at once.

“He was….he was a lot of things,” you closed your eyes as you tried to keep the pain at bay and turn it into happy memories, “he was a stubborn man, but he was also so wonderful. He was so kind, smart, and resourceful. He was so deadpan and his humor was dry but he was just so funny. He’d do anything for the people he loved. He…was a carpenter, and worked with his brother. He had a daughter named Sarah - I loved her so much. All of them. Things were so easy with them, with him, I…it seems silly in hindsight, but I really thought I’d spend the rest of my life with Joel.”

“You really loved him, huh?” she reached over and brushed away the tears that had rolled down your cheek. You sniffled before nodding, “what did he look like?”

“He was handsome,” your face flushed with warmth as you remembered the first time you’d seen him. You’d fallen for him then and there, and things had never really changed, “he had dark brown hair, it would always get all curly when he let it get a little longer. He had brown eyes, but they were so pretty, all different shades and kinda like warm honey in the light. He had a beard but there were two little patches that never seemed to grow hair. I used to joke that they were perfect spots for leaving kisses. He had lots of freckles, and he was just…lovely. Maybe I’m just biased but he was really my favorite person ever.”

“I can tell you really loved him,” you closed your eyes and let out a long sigh as you nodded, “I’m sure he loved you just as much.”

“I thought that we might even get married one day,” you admitted, something you’d never even said out loud, “but obviously…life had a different plan.”

“I don’t mean to pry and you can stop me at any time,” she leaned in, her voice sweet and gentle. You knew she meant well and that she cared; she’d already shared her entire story with you, but you’d been more reserved, “what happened?”

“The day everything went to hell,” you finished for her and she nodded gravely, “I had been out of town, visiting a friend. Can you believe it? It might have been the worst timing in the world. We lived in Austin but I was a few hours away. After I saw everything on the news, I tried calling and calling but I couldn’t get through - cell towers were jammed. I thought about driving home that night but it wasn’t safe. The highways were all packed and people were already going crazy. My idea at the time had been to wait until things calmed down and I’d drive home and be with my family. I never got the chance. Life completely fell apart.”

“Oh honey…”

“I blamed myself for a long time,” you whispered, “because of….of all the times I could have chosen to go, and I picked that week. It could have been any other week. I don’t know if they tried to find me or just find safety. I hope it was the latter. I hope they got out safely. That was the last day I ever saw them. That morning before we all left for the day work and school. It was Joel’s birthday too.”

“Oh my god.”

“Worst day of my life,” you rolled onto your back and looked at the stars again, finding some comfort in the fact that if they were still alive they were looking at the very same stars, “I just hope they’re okay. Wherever they are.”

“I’m sure they still love you too,” Allie hugged onto you and you held her back as best as you could, “you don’t ever lose that kind of love.”

“Maybe,” you were willing to dream, even if you had your doubts, “but hey, I love you too, kid.”

“Love you more.���

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You’d been unable to sleep that night, finding yourself tossing and turning, memories of what had been plaguing your mind. At some point, when the sun was already peeking over the horizon again, you crawled out of bed and pulled on a pair of boots, deciding to go for a walk. It was still quiet and peaceful, and it would give you the chance to avoid crowds of people. Not that you minded people, but right now you really were just in the mood to be alone. 

You stepped in the early morning sun and stretched, relief in the popping of your joints as you started your little walk. It was quiet out here and safe - safer than anywhere else you’d been. The sounds of the early morning birds and creatures accompanied you, helping to alleviate your thoughts. You concentrated on your breathing and listening to each footfall and tuning into the world around you. 

It worked to an extent and you found yourself feeling better once you decided to go back to town. The place was slowly coming to life and a smile worked its way onto your face. Maybe today you’d clean your place and do all the laundry; a fresh start and hopefully a positive mindset. 

As you made your way back to your place, you found that people seemed to be twittering around excitedly. You didn’t know what was going on, but it made you happy nonetheless. Better to be happy than miserable, right?

“Hey, Bee,” Allie ran up behind you, looping her arm through yours and almost knocking you over excitedly. You laughed at her use of your nickname, which coincidentally had come from her because you were always buzzing around like a honey bee, “have you heard the news?”

“It’s barely daybreak and I’ve just come back from a walk,” you laughed and shook your head, “needless to say, no I haven’t heard the news. What could possibly be so exciting?”

“Newcomers,” she clutched onto your arm, “fresh blood.”

“Ahh, yes,” you nudged her in the side, “how could I forget that you’re the one woman welcoming committee? Or is it just the fact that you’re nosey?”

“I am not n-”

“It’s a sin to lie,” you tutted playfully, “we’re all nosey, in our own way. Are these people vetted?”

“Tommy says he knows ‘em,” she shrugged. You like Tommy…he reminded you so much of Joel and his brother, “says they’re good people. Not just some random outsiders.”

“Well,” you offered a small smile. You’d already long given up on the hope that you’d run into them again. But still, after all this time, your heart always skipped a little at the possibility, however slim, “it’s all good to have new people around. Maybe they can even help keep us all safe.”

“Maybe,” her eyes lit up with excitement, “I’m gonna go and meet them - do you want to come?”

“I’m okay,” your smile was meek as you shook your head, “I’m just gonna do some cleaning today. Maybe plant some fresh veggies since spring is coming up fast.”

“Alright,” she skipped ahead, pressing a kiss to your cheek, “I’ll see you later, Bee!”

“See you,” there was an affectionate smile on your face as you watched her run off. She was so kind and cheerful that you couldn’t imagine anyone not loving her. You spotted one of the local stray cats walking around and purring softly, “you want to come and help me?”

The cat paused for a moment, tail twitching before it took off. 

“Me too buddy,” you walked back to your small house, unaware and unassuming of just exactly the turn your day was about to take.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It was the late afternoon by the time you emerged from your house again, deciding to go off in search of some seeds to plant. Carol had some at some point, so you figured it was best to start with her. You grabbed a bag and headed off towards her house, distracted by the fat, fluffy clouds in the sky. 

You definitely weren’t paying much attention as you looked up, instead of straight ahead…and promptly proceeded to walk into something. Or someone, rather. You groaned, at yourself rather than anything else as you offered your victim a sheepish expression, “oh no! I am so sorry! Totally not paying attention at all.”

“It’s okay,” that was a voice you didn’t recognize. You turned your gaze to the young woman in front of you and offered her a small smile. She was no doubt one of the newcomers, pretty and athletic looking with a kind smile, “I should have been watching where I was going too. There’s just so much to look at here.”

“You must be new,” she smiled sweetly and nodded. You held out your hand and offered her your name, “but everyone calls me Bee! If you ever need anything or have any questions, or anything at all let me know. It’s hard moving someplace new, but we’re all friendly here…except maybe Andy. He’s still friendly, just kind of old and crotchety. But we’re happy to have you here!”

“Thank you,” she seemed shy but like she’d open up and get more comfortable soon, “I’m Ellie. Crotchety and old sounds kinda like my old man.”

“You came with your dad?” you asked, just as nosey as you’d called Allie.

“It’s…complicated,” she shrugged, but her expression didn’t waiver, “he’s not my dad, but he’s my family.”

“I understand,” you promised softly, “it’s like that for a lot of us these days. Well, it’s nice to meet you, Ellie. Hope you see you around!”

“You too,” she watched you go, instantly deciding that she liked you. If everyone in Jackson was like you, they would have no time fitting in and making friends.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You were stopped a few more times on your way to Carol’s, everyone abuzz and happy today. And all it took was a couple of new faces. 

“Hey Carol-”

“Have you heard the good news?” you crossed your arms over your chest and raised an eyebrow at her. The older woman offered up a shrug as if to say what can you do? You motioned for her to go on, “the two new folks we’ve got joining.”

“So I’ve heard,” you made yourself at home, as you often did, and went to help yourself to a cup of coffee, “it seems like that’s all anyone is talking about today. I met one of them - a young woman, Ellie. She seemed nice.”

“It’s not just that,” she almost dropped her voice to a whisper and you looked around as if there was someone that she was trying to avoid, “the man with her!”

“And just what about the man with her is the big deal?” Maybe there was something in the water today. You grimaced at your cup before setting it back on the counter. Just in case. 

“It’s Tommy’s brother!” 

“I didn’t know Tommy had a brother,” you still weren’t following, “is he like a long lost brother?”

“They haven’t seen each other in a few years,” she explained, “but apparently he used to be in good with the Fireflys. Just like Tommy before he and Maria left. Anyway, they’ve always been close, but it’s…it’s nice to see him so happy.”

Your heart skipped a few beats as it seemed to rattle around your chest. Surely, this was all some sort of weird coincidence or something. Similar situations….that was all. Besides, Tommy was a common name and lots of people had brothers. But you just…couldn’t hold back your curiosity, “what’s his name? Tommy’s brother?”

“I’m afraid I don’t sweetheart know,” she gave your shoulder a squeeze as you tried to hide the disappointed look on your face, “I’m sure you can catch the two of them. They’re going around so Tommy can show him everything.”

“Thanks,” you were heading towards the door without a second thought. 

“Wait - what did you need?” she pointed to your bag as you shook your head.

“It’s nothing that can’t wait,” you grinned, “I’ll be back later. But right now I-I have to go.”

You almost ran out of her house, leaving her staring after you with a confused expression. You looked around for the man in question, but didn’t see him anywhere nearby. You huffed lightly and went up to the first person you saw, a young man who you were pretty sure was named Ryan, “hey - have you seen Tommy?”

“Somewhere along the outskirts near the west perimeter,” he pointed over his shoulder, and you were already pushing past him with so much as a glance back. You walked as quickly as you could towards the edge of town, eventually resorting to a slow run when you grew impatient. 

Luckily, you quickly spotted two figures at the edge and your heart almost burst out of your chest with nervous anticipation and excitement, “Tommy!”

He turned around at the sound of your approaching footsteps, an easy smile on his face when he realized it was you, “Bee!”

“I heard,” you took a moment to catch your breath, clutching at the stitch in your side as your eyes were practically glue to the other man’s frame, “I heard-”

“I’m sure you did,” he laughed, an easy sound that you liked, “word travels fast around here. Bee, this is brother - Joel.”

No, no, no. Even now you were convinced that it was all some sort of cosmic coincidence. The man in question slowly turned around to take a look at you. As soon as you were able to get a good look at him, your heart felt like it was about to burst out of your chest. There was no way, right? Right?

The man in front of you was older, with peppered gray hair, more line in his face, and a hardened look about him. But there was no mistaking it - him. This was him…after all these years he was standing right in front of you. His expression shifted through a slew of different emotions as he studied you, trying to process the same thing you were internally freaking out about.

“Joel?” his name fell from your lips so softly that it almost wasn’t audible. When he didn’t say anything at first, you wondered if he didn’t remember you for some reason or something.

But then you heard it - the soft whisper of your name. You were somewhere between tears and shock and laughter and all you managed to do was give him a teary nod. And then it happened so fast - you’d both stepped forward and he quickly wrapped you in his arms, crushing you to his chest, as he held onto you tightly. 

You were definitely crying by this moment, burying your face into his chest, afraid that if you loosened your grip you’d lose him all over again. You heard him sniffle as well, and he pressed soft kisses to the side of your head, his heart beating wildly. 

It seemed like the two of you head onto each for an eternity before slowly pulling apart, studying each other in awe. You cradled his face gently in your hands as you looked him over, admiring how he’d aged over the years despite the world weary look on his face. You brushed your thumb over the apple of his cheek, wiping away the tears that had pearled up and ran down his cheeks. You really hoped this wasn’t some sort of dream because waking up from it would be a nightmare. 

“You look - “

“Old,” he finished for you in true Joel fashion. You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped your lips; the sound had become a memory over the years but it all came flooding back to him and went straight to his heart. The corners of his mouth twitched up slightly at your response.

“I wasn’t going to say that,” you insisted softly, “I was going to say you look good. You know, despite everything,”

“You look as beautiful as I remember,” he put his hand under your chin and turned your face up to his. This time it was tears running down your cheeks, “are you actually real or have I died and gone to heaven?”

“I’m here,” you promised, wrapping your fingers around his wrist and giving it a gentle squeeze, “I just can’t believe you are. After all this time…”

“I never thought I’d see you again,” he confessed, harsh and broken. He paused for a moment before turning to his brother, “how come you never told me she was here?”

“I didn’t realize…it was her,” he admitted sheepishly. You hadn’t realized it was him either. Back before the world fell apart you’d only met Tommy a few times and he had changed a lot, “I feel so stupid now. And everyone just called you Bee, and I never thought…”

“I didn’t realize either,” you choked out a laugh in between your tears, “but it doesn’t matter - you’re here now. And I….fuck. I’ve missed you so much…every day. I had no clue if you were alright, but there was always a small bit of me that never gave up hope.”

“If it’s any consolation, I’m glad you found each other,” Tommy offered the two of you a small wave before turning to go back and give you some privacy.

“We looked for you,” he promised as if you needed some sort of reassurance, “for so long. But-”

“Hey,” you gently trailed your fingers along his jaw, “the world was falling apart. We were all lost. None of that matters anymore. This is all that matters.”

The two of you studied each other, long and hard, before he held your face in his hands and pressed his lips to yours, capturing them in a soft, but fervent kiss. It had been a long time since you’d been kissed and they’d been nothing compared to this. Once you were reacquainted with the touch and taste of him, you let him kiss you until you were breathless and dizzy. It felt like no time at all had passed. 

When he pulled back, a look of concern crossed his features, “I-I’m sorry. I should have asked. I don’t even know if…there’s someone else.”

“There’s no one else,” you were quick to reassure him and he visibly relaxed, “there’s never been anyone else. Only a few…well you know.”

“I know,” he nodded in agreement, his hand gently tasting against your neck, “I imagined this moment so many times. But it still didn't live up to the real thing.”

“Me too,” you hummed in agreement before pulling him in for another hug, “I can’t believe you’re here. There’s just…so much to talk about.”

“Yes,” he pressed a kiss to the top of your head, “but right now, I just want to enjoy this moment - enjoy you.”

“I agree,” you leaned in and stole a few more kisses, “you’re about to be bombarded by the entire town so we’d better make the most of it. Luckily, I know a quiet spot.”

“If I didn’t know any better, it sounds like you’re trying to seduce me,” there was that humor you loved so much. You playfully rolled your eyes at him.

“What if I am?” you teased, “is it working?”

“Always,” he promised softly, causing you to beam at him, “promise me one thing?”

“Anything, Joel.”

“We’ll stay together this time, no matter what.”

“I promise,” you took his hand in yours, threading your fingers together, “I promise.”

[tsimvkas]

you deserve better — mason mount.

A/N: hiii 👋🏻 so this one is specially to my love @raremasey, thank you for trusting me with your brilliant idea and for being soooo patient with me and my slow ass, im not sure if the angst is angsting but i hope you like it 💞

word count: 8.3k | masterlist

content: depressed!mase, mental health issues, miscommunication, angst & fluffy end

“You’re breaking up with me?” you asked, confused.

You had just returned from the grocery shop when Mason told you he wanted to talk. You were surprised he was awake, lately your boyfriend was often so tired he would come back from training and sleep until he had to leave again, so you should’ve assumed that what was coming wasn’t good.

“It’s not like this” he muttered. “I just want us to take a break”

You laughed sarcastically, not knowing how to deal with what you were feeling.

“A break? Wow. What the fuck do you mean, Mason?”

“This is for the best, Y/N” Mason sighed, looking tired. “I want the best for you”

“For the best? Oh my God, I just moved in with you. I left everything behind. I have no friends here, I have no job. I followed you because Manchester was what you needed, and you’re asking me for a break?” you laughed again, trying to hold the tears.

After two years dating Mason, seeing the man you love in the verge of tears asking you for a break was the last thing you expected to see when you just moved together.

“You don’t get it” he rested his face on his hands, breathing deeply. He knows you wouldn't understand — you’re not inside his messy mind. But he wished you could at least believe he would always do what’s best for you, and right now he’s not. Right now, he’s the worst person you could have by your side.

“You’re right, I don’t. I don’t get why the man I love is standing in front of me telling me he doesn’t want me anymore” you felt a single hot tear spilling down your face and cleaned it aggressively. “That I’m not the woman he loves anymore”

“It’s not like that, Y/N! Please… of course I still want you, and that’s why I’m doing this. I’m sorry that I don’t know how to explain”

You frowned, not believing that he was telling you he loves you while breaking up with you. You felt pathetic.

“There’s no need. I’ll just need a few days so I can get my things” you kept holding your tears, trying to show you had everything handled.

Mason’s face dropped, and even though you didn’t notice, his hands were shaking.

“You don’t- you can stay here. I wouldn’t ask you to leave, you moved with me. This house is yours too” he tried to change your mind and you laughed sarcastically at his words.

“This house is anything but mine”

“You don’t need to spend money moving somewhere else, please, stay”

“What the hell, Mason? Do you want me to move to the guest room? Want me to be your distant cousin when you start bringing girls here?” you exploded, screaming and pointing him a finger.

“I would never” he shook his head. “I would never bring anyone here”

“Right, so you want me to stay here to hear when you come back drunk after you fucked them somewhere else”

“Y/N, this is not-”

“I’ll accept your offer whilst I see how I’ll move back to London” you interrupted him, wanting to get out of his view quickly. “Goodnight, Mason”

—

You didn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you crying, so as soon as you grabbed most of your stuff in his bedroom you locked yourself in the guest room and finally let your emotions take control.

What the hell has just happened?

Why did the guy you felt was your soulmate just broke up with you after two years of promising you the world?

It felt like Mason had just realised what you’ve been fearing since you’ve met: you’re not enough for him. His lifestyle doesn’t match yours, the amount of money he has, the places he needs to be.

You’re just a girl from Portsmouth, whilst Mason it’s Portsmouth’s star.

Before you could notice, you were crying loudly, strong sobs cutting your breath.

Mason knocked on the door, trying to open before realising it was locked.

“Y/N- can we talk? Please, baby”

“Don’t call me baby” you screamed at the closed door, hugging your pillow tighter. “I can’t even ask you to go away because we’re in your fucking house, the least you can do is leave me alone”

Mason felt his heart aching. In his head, the spiral of thoughts made so much more sense, but from the moment he said them out loud he knew he fucked up.

But he also knows he couldn’t take it back. You deserve more than he’s capable of offering to you right now, and he knows he can’t keep dragging you down with him.

Giving you the space you needed, he walked to his room — yous room, and tried to sleep in his cold and empty bed, but the way you were crying kept stabbing his heart.

And even though he was aware that was his fault, the need to hold you and comfort you kept him awake.

—

When you woke up, Mason had already left for training, and you thanked the universe for that.

You walked to the kitchen, looking for ice to help you with your puffy eyes, and something light to eat. You were still feeling nauseous and too sad to eat a proper meal, so you grabbed a few grapes and a tiny bottle of juice.

After eating, you tried to go to Mason’s room to pick up any stuff you might have left there the night before, but the vision of his door made you feel like throwing up. How the fuck you were supposed to face this whilst living in the same house as him?

Why the fuck he would ask you that?

You realised that questioning the whole thing and trying to find answers in an empty house wouldn’t help you move out quicker, so you went back to the guest room and took a shower, trying to start a fresh new day.

With your fresh set of pyjamas and your laptop, you went downstairs to grab a bottle of your favourite cold tea and sat on the couch and started looking for ways to reorganise your life.

You looked for a few jobs, so you could move as soon as possible, and also took the time to search for a few universities. When you met Mason you had just finished high school and were enjoying life a bit before going for college since your job was nice and it gave you the chance to do a lot of things.

But then, he told you about moving, and none of you wanted to be far apart so you left everything behind and followed you.

Mason never made you feel bad about moving with him without having money to help. In fact, he’d always been supportive, encouraging you to stop looking for a job and getting in college instead.

Even now, he’s not even asking for you to leave his house, always acting like what is his, it’s yours too.

But if you never felt good living on his money, then now you feel even worse.

You want a new job, and you want to go to college. And you’ll do both.

—

It was a tough week.

You ignored Mason, Mason tried to give you privacy, you got mad at Mason for giving you privacy because it was like he was trapped in his own house and Mason had no idea how to fix what he just broke.

Between all of it, you were still looking for a job and applying to your favourite universities, cleaning the house when you could and cooking Mason’s meals.

Seeing that you were still making him breakfast and dinner every day made him feel even worse. Every time he was back from training, he entered his room wanting to cuddle and to let you comfort him, but then he was taken aback with the realisation of what he did.

To be fair, you know Mason tried to talk to you a few times, and even slept by your door one night since you wouldn’t unlock it when he was home.

But you were hurt. Really hurt. You know he’s been facing a hard time, but the fact he wanted a break from you made you insecure. It broke the blind trust you had in him.

It didn’t help that in the same week the tabloids instantly started talking about Mason and a mysterious girl, questioning if he was single or if he was cheating, and the fans started coming to your profiles, asking you about him.

It was such a coincidence the news talking about it in the same week he dumped you, that it was obvious for you that he was probably seen with someone else. With another girl.

So you drowned in study, only leaving your room to cook and to run outside for a few minutes, trying to focus on yourself and remain healthy even though your heart was falling apart.

During the day it was easier since you were alone at home. The nights were the worst.

Knowing he was there, but not with you. Not being able to talk with your favourite person, to hear about his day. Not being able to cuddle to sleep, to hold his face in your hands.

And knowing that he was the reason why you weren’t able to love on him.

By the second week, you were a wrecking mess.

Gossip pages kept talking about Mason and this girl, that you don’t know who it is. You only left your room when he was at training or at a game, locking the door when he was at home, and the only way you knew about him was through Man United’s social media.

On a particular night, you had cooked his dinner and headed to your room, taking a long shower and getting ready for bed. You had just chosen what you would watch when your phone started buzzing with a FaceTime call from Mason’s brother.

Sighing, you accepted the call and waited for him to talk.

“Y/N? Hey, I’m sorry I’m calling you kinda late, but it’s everything okay?” Lewis’ concerned face filled the screen and you recognised his car. “Mason is not answering since this morning and I’m starting to worry, we’re getting there so I wanted to be sure he’s at home”

Lewis had no idea, but his words brought the worst kind of panic to your heart. You jumped out of the bed without even answering him and rushed outside, unlocking your door and running to the other side of the corridor before opening Mason’s room door to see that his bed was empty and messy.

Running downstairs with your heart in your mouth, you entered the living room in a rush, stopping suddenly when a group of men entered your view. Shaw, Rashford, Höjlund and McTominay were playing video games and eating snacks, but Mason was nowhere to be seen.

“Y/N? We woke you up?” Luke seemed surprised, instantly getting on his feet and approaching you. “Mase told us you were out this night, I’m sorry if we disturbed you”

When you didn’t answer, Rashford got on his feet too.

“You’re pale, Y/N. It’s everything alright? Do you need anything?”

You looked around, feeling lost in the place you used to call home, Lewis forgotten in your phone.

“What’s wrong?” Mason showed up coming from the kitchen and taking a few seconds to notice you were there. The sight of your confused face and the bags under your eyes made his heart hurt. He hadn’t seen you in so long… “Y/N-”

“Lewis is trying to talk to you” you murmured, giving a quick smile to his teammates before heading upstairs, back to your room.

When you finally closed the door, your entire body began to shake, your heart having difficulties to process that he was fine and nothing that you imagined had actually happened.

The anxiety and panic you’ve felt minutes before got the best of you and you try to make it to your bed, falling a few steps before reaching it.

“Hey” Lewis’ alarmed voice reminded you he was still in the call. “What’s wrong? You’re on the floor? Wait, why did you enter the guest room? Y/N, what’s happening? Jaz, can you take my phone and talk to her please”

You tried to answer him, but everything that left your lips were heavy sobs and grunts, your hips hurting from the fall. When Jaz’s face showed up, you felt the urge to let it all go like you’d with your sister — a sister you don’t have.

“Y/N you need to breathe. Breath with me” she tried to keep your attention on her while, noticing how uneven your breath was. “Can you tell me what happened?”

You shook your head, still feeling like you were choking on your tears. “I’m sorry. I thought ‘well, it must be bad if he’s not answering his own brother’, and then the possibilities terrified me”

“It’s okay, He’s okay, isn’t he?” Jaz calmed you, and you nodded. “Good. Now, keep breathing. What happened? Why does it seem like you’re having a panic attack?”

“I don’t know if I should talk about this with his sister, Jaz”

“Don’t be silly, I just wanna help you. I’m like your big sister too, aren’t I?”

“I miss you” you sighed, pouting like a kid.

“We’re almost there, my love. Do you think you can open the door for us?”

You tried to get on your feet and the pain was instant.

“I can’t, actually. My hip hurts”

“Hurts like you’ll need painkillers or like you can’t actually get up?” Lewis’ voice could be heard, and you attempted to get up.

“I don’t know” you whined. “Like I can’t get up, I think”

“Do you want me to call an ambulance?” Jaz asked, concerned, but you were quick to say no.

“No! No, his name will be everywhere tomorrow”

“He wouldn’t care if it’s for you, Y/N”

“Now he might, I don’t know”

“What do you mean?” Jaz frowned at you.

You figured out there was no need to hide from them, once they’d found out as soon as they saw Mason, so you shrugged.

“We broke up”

“What? Why?” she looked more confused that yourself that night.

“I don’t know. He asked for a break, but I don’t do breaks. Why would you need a break from someone you love? So you can be with someone else without feeling guilty? And then the tabloides…”

“Yeah, we saw it. That’s why we’re coming over, we we’re worried about how he’s dealing with it”

“I don’t think he’s too worried about it” you sighed, telling them the last few weeks and what just happened in the living room.

“And he hadn’t followed you to see how you are? What if we weren’t coming over, would you lay hurt on the floor forever?” you could hear Lewis’ voice, and your cheeks got red.

“I’ve been locking myself when he’s at home, so he hadn’t had the chance to talk to me even when he tried to”

“Y/N… communication is the key” Jaz told you.

“I know, but this is not the time to talk about it”

“Fine. We’re here” Lewis announced, turning off the engine.

—

“Lewis?” Mason opened the door, surprised. “What are you doing here?”

Thankfully, the boys had already left and Mason was alone in the living room.

“Goodnight Mase. Can I talk with Y/N?”

“Oh, so” he scratched his neck, not ready to talk about it yet. “About this, there’s something I need to tell you”

“Yeah, I know. I’ll go to her room real quick, yeah?”

“She’s not in our room. And she doesn’t unlock the door when I’m home”

“She will unlock it for me, don’t worry” Lewis tapped his shoulder before heading to the guest room.

“Have you talked to her?” Mason frowned, following his brother. You could hear they talking and you hid your face with your arm so Mason couldn’t see you’ve been crying.

“Hey Y/N, it’s Lewis. Jaz is in the car, can I take you to her?”

You nodded, groaning when he lifted you up.

“What happened?” Mason asked, but no one answered him. “Y/N? Are you hurt?”

You could feel the desperation in his voice, but you had no strength to talk. Lewis put you in the car, where Jaz instantly hugged you, before going back inside to take your stuff.

“What the hell are you doing?” Mason asked, watching Lewis looking for something in his bedroom’s bathroom.

“Taking Y/N’s stuff, she’s going back to Portsmouth with me and Jaz”

After taking what he needed from Mason’s room, he went to the guest room to take only the essential things he thought you could need.

“What do you mean?”

“I’m taking her out of this house. I won’t let you treat her like that” Lewis kept talking with a firm tone whilst taking your skincare products and then looking for a few pieces of clothes. “She can stay at mum’s for a while”

Mason’s eyes widened. “No. No, you’re not” he tried to take your stuff from Lewis’ hands.

His brother gave him a look and Mason stopped immediately. He wanted Lewis to scream at him, and the fact he was talking low and contained was killing Mason.

“Try me, Mason Mount” Lewis whispered. “We all know you’re going through something, and you know how much I love you, but this is not an excuse. I thought you would ask her for help. Find comfort in her to get through this. But asking for a break? Going out and hooking up with other girls while she’s still living with you? Do you have any idea how she was when we found her?”

Mason stayed silent, so Lewis kept talking.

“Jaz wanted to call the ambulance, if this can make you understand why she’s coming with us”

Mason’s eyes watered and he wanted to explain better, tell his brother that he never hooked up with other girls and why he asked you for a time, but he should’ve done this days ago — Lewis wouldn’t hear him now. Neither would you.

“It’s not like that, Lewis, I never hooked up with anyone-“ he shook his head, but his brother headed to the door without paying attention.

Mason ran to block his way, receiving a flat look, and Lewis sighed. “You don’t have to make this more difficult than it already is, Mase. She’s coming with me”

“No!” Mason screamed at his face, and it was obvious how unbalanced the younger one was. “She’s not”

“Mason, I’m your brother and I will never let go of your hand, but you need to calm down and think about what you want. I‘ll call you tomorrow so we can talk, alright?” Lewis kissed Mason’s forehead and walked to his car with your bag.

Mason’s heart broke in a million pieces seeing you huddled in the back seat, Jaz’s body cuddling yours. His eyes watered when he called your name and you didn’t look at him, your shoulders shaking.

How the hell did he ruin his entire life in just two weeks?

When his brother started the car, Mason instantly picked up his phone and texted Luke.

—

The ride back to Portsmouth was long and you slept through most of it, not even realising when Jaz and Lewis switched places so he could rest too.

“Since it’s Friday night we’re all in our family’s house” Jaz told you as soon as she saw your eyes open. “Do you mind coming with us? I can book an hotel if it’s too much for you, being with his family”

“No, I’d love to spend some time with you all. You know how much I love your family, Jaz”

“We love you a lot, too. Especially Summer, but the whole family loves you” Jaz giggled, thinking about how happy Summer will get just by seeing you.

“The whole family but my boyfriend” you laughed,

“I’m sure we’ll understand what’s going on tomorrow, Y/N. Lewis will talk to him”

You shrugged, feeling too tired to debate. Jaz helped you settle in one of the guest rooms, and since it was in the middle of the night you didn’t see anyone.

By the morning, everybody was really happy to see you, and explaining the whole thing to Debbie was the worst part of it.

“I don’t know what’s happening with him” she told you with a sad tone. “I’m not trying to defend him, Y/N, please no. I’m just so worried. He doesn’t answer our calls anymore, barely answer our texts, doesn’t want to come visit”

“It’s just a hard time, Debbie. I know he misses you and his old life, he misses London and his friends. It’s been a rough time for him” you smiled softly. “I think he’s just feeling lost, and maybe I just didn’t made him feel settled there”

“Still, this is not an excuse to do what he did” Lewis interrupted, sitting on the other sofa. “If he’s lost, if he’s struggling, if he’s sad, he needs help. Pushing you aside it’s not the answer. No when you left your life for him. You lost things too”

“Lewis is right, you left everything behind. He is not obligated to stay with you just out of gratitude, but if he wanted to end things then he should’ve done it in a better way” Debbie nodded. “I think I should visit him so we can have a talk”

“I called him this morning” Lewis sighed. “I think he needs real help, mum. But we’ll help him, yeah?”

He kissed Debbie’s head, but Jaz frowned at him.

“What do you mean with real help?” she asked, sighing too when Lewis shrugged. “I think we shouldn’t have left him alone”

“Yeah, we shouldn’t have, but he’s okay. Shaw talked to me about half an hour ago. Jaz, can we talk real quick?”

Once they left you alone with Debbie and Summer, you tried to play with the little one and give her attention. When she asked why you were there, you told her that uncle Mason and you had a little fight, but that everything was okay.

“Oh” Summer gasped. “This is why uncle Mase told me he was sad?”

You frowned, suddenly worried. Mason never let his nieces get in the middle of adult problems, so you pulled Summer closer and kissed her head.

“What do you mean, baby girl? What did Uncle Mase have told you?”

“That he was feeling really, really sad, and that he was hurt” she pouted, pointing to her forehead. “Here”

You tried to keep focused on her, but you could only think about Mason, your heart aching just from thinking about what ‘really, really sad” meant.

When the adults were back, Summer was practically sleeping so Lewis took her and left you and Jaz alone.

“I’ll have this conversation with you, because I see how bad you’re hurting and I care too much about you. But I’m not trying to say he’s not wrong, or that you should forgive him just because of his condition, this is not what I think at all and-”

“Jaz! Just say it” you interrupted her, your heart racing in your chest.

“We think Mase has been in a depressed state. Not depressive yet, but it won’t take long if nothing changes”

“Alright” you took a deep breath, already feeling guilty that his siblings stayed by your side and that the three of you left him alone at home. “What do we do now?”

“We?” Jaz asked. “Are you sure?”

“We know Mason, Jaz. Of course I’m hurt, especially by the fact he preferred asking for a break instead of asking for help, but I’m not letting him by himself when he needs me the most”

“There’s not much we can do” she sighed, and you imagined how hard it was probably being to his siblings, seeing their baby boy in a state like this. “Lewis talked to Shaw and they decided to take Mase to the club’s doctor. It’s a start, but Mason needs to want help for this to work”

You nodded, feeling overwhelmed by a feeling you couldn’t even explain. He’s facing a hard time - but he’s alive, and as long as he’s still here, he can face this.

And despite being worried about him, knowing that the way he acted wasn’t entirely his fault took the part of the weight out of your shoulder. Even though his actions were still hurting, the truth is that you’d always be patiently waiting for him to be better.

For him to come back.

Before you went to bed that night, your phone buzzed with a single text, your heart trying to jump out of your chest whilst your entire body ached with the urge of holding your boy again.

—

Two months later, you were still missing him like crazy.

You never answered that text, simply because you had nothing to say. It was a promise, and you were waiting for him to keep it.

Since you left Manchester, Lewis would send you a message every morning saying “Mase is asking about you, do I have permission to tell him anything?”, and the answer would always be “as long as you tell me how he is”.

Even though you were still feeling hurt, the answers always made you smile. “He started therapy today” and “he’s back at training” were the ones you loved the most to know. And, of course, the fact he asked about you every single day warmed your heart.

Lewis told you that the only reason why Mason hadn’t visited yet nor sent you any message was because he only wanted to talk with you when he was feeling more like himself again, and you respected it.

Of course you’d be there for him if he asked you, but deep down you wanted to see your Mason — not the one who asked you for a break.

So, since the day Jaz and Lewis brought you to Portsmouth you’ve been at Debbie’s house. She and Tony took care of you, giving you space every time you needed but also supporting you to go out a bit, study outside or even hang out with them. You also started a remote job, and it felt like the only thing left for you to be fully happy was for Mason to be good.

You discovered that the family used to reunite every weekend, so they could have lunch together — and, when Mason is playing, so they can watch him. By every weekend, you felt more part of the family, and the fear that maybe Mason meant it that night, that maybe he won’t want you around even when he feels better, started to grow inside you.

One of those weekends, almost four months that you left Manchester, Summer wanted to go to the park before lunch and most of the family followed her and Jaz. You stayed at home with Tony so you could keep an eye on a sleepy Mila, since Jaz didn’t want to wake her up.

You were in the living room, watching Mila’s peaceful sleep when someone knocked at the front door and Tony left the kitchen saying “I got this”. You chuckled at how cute and sweet he always is, but then found it weird when he didn't return with whoever was knocking, making your way to check if everything was alright.

“Dad, please. I just wanna talk with her” you stopped in your tracks, feeling goosebumps all over your body. There’s no way you could not know this voice.

“I don’t know if she wants the same, Mase. Let me check, alright? I’ll just ask real quick” Tony told him, and you appreciated that he thought about your well being. If you didn’t want to talk with Mason — which you do, it could turn into a mess if he let him enter without warming you.

“Tony, c’mon” Mason snorted, and you know he’s impatient. “That’s my girl. I just need to see her”

Tony stared at Mason for a few seconds and you bit a smile, quickly stepping into their vision field.

“It’s alright. Can you give us a moment?” you touched his shoulder, and the way Mason’s eyes shimmered when he saw you made your tummy flutter.

“Of course. Kid, you’re staying for lunch?”

“Yeah” he nodded, eyes not leaving you.

“So you better come help me when you finished your talk” Tony teased, kissing Mason’s head before heading to the kitchen.

There was a few seconds of silence before Mason shook his head.

“Sorry I didn’t text you, I was trying not to think about it so I wouldn’t give up. But I owe you an explanation” he bit his lower lip, and you could tell by his breath that he was trying not to cry. “Would you- could you listen? Even though this doesn’t change anything, I just need to know that you know what happened”

“C’mon, let’s go to the living room” you smiled, your heart pounding with the sad expression on his face, but then he smiled and followed you. “Why you’re not in Manchester right now? I thought you had a game tomorrow”

“I asked for a day, so I could come and talk to you” Mason shrugged, as if it wasn’t a big thing.

“Mason! You’re just back in the squad, you can’t ask for a day” you scolded, crossing your arms and turning back at him.

“It’s okay, I need a break and they’ll probably say I just have food poisoning or something like this. How do you know I’m back in the squad?” he smirked, sitting first so you could choose if you wanted to sit next to him or not.

You wish you were stronger, but you missed him so much that sitting across the room felt wrong, so you sat beside him.

“Knowing” you rolled your eyes. “So, what’s so important that you couldn’t wait?”

There were a few more seconds in silence, but it didn’t bother you. You know, from Lewis’ daily updates, how difficult it has been for Mason to get on track again, so you let him go at his own pace.

“You” he played with his fingers, trying to keep his hands to himself. “I couldn’t wait to see you. The idea that I’m losing you a little bit more everyday that you spend without an explanation is killing me. I know the blame is on me and I have no right to ask you anything, but here I am asking you to try to understand, because I miss you”

You felt your eyes watering, so you blinked away the tears.

“I miss you too, but..”

“Don’t say it” he interrupted you, shaking his head and looking away. You could tell when he was on the verge of tears, and the sudden change in his mood got you worried.

“What?”

“I don’t wanna know. If you don’t love me anymore, please don’t tell me” he pleaded, fingers fidgeting the hem of his shirt.

“Don’t be silly” you reached for his hand, intertwining your pinkies to distract him from whatever he was feeling. “I already understand what happened, yeah? I don’t blame you”

“You should” Mason shrugged.

“It’s just…” you ignored what he said. “I think it’s hard for me to just suddenly open my heart for you again? I know you were in a dark space and it wasn’t your fault and you didn’t mean to hurt me but it did. It hurt a lot”

Mason squeezed your hand and his shaky breath broke made your heart ache.

“I’m sorry”

“I know you are. Wanna tell me what happened? How were you feeling that night?”

It took him a few seconds to answer, but the silence wasn’t weird anymore. You’ve known each other for a while now, and even though the Mason you left weeks ago pushed you away, he doesn’t look like this one.

This one looks like your Mason.

“I don’t know how to describe it” he started. “But the last six months have been hard. First, I’m sorry I lied to you about this for four months, and I’m sorry I wasn’t being honest every time you asked me if I was good. I do trust you, and I know I should’ve told you, but I was scared”

You squeezed his hand to tell him it was okay without interrupting him, waiting for him to continue.

“It started with a few and normal insecurities, things everybody feels. ‘What if I’m not what the team is expecting, what if I fail here, what if I’m not good enough’. And then it escalated so fast. I started skipping meals because they didn’t look interesting, sleeping from the moment I got home to the moment I needed to leave for training, not actually wanting to talk with anyone. And I know you thought I was just tired and dealing with a lot, so please don’t feel guilty about it”

Too late, you thought. How haven’t you noticed that the man you love was struggling?

“The only thing that kept me going was you. You were the only person I still wanted to see, the only voice that wouldn’t annoy me. But soon I started thinking that if I really love you so much then I should let you go, because you were stuck with an unhappy man. A man that wasn’t taking you on date nights anymore, a man that wasn’t giving you attention. A man that wasn’t even making love with you”

“Lack of sex never bothered me” you murmured, incapable of keeping silent. Mason gave you a sad smile and nodded.

“I know. I know, because you never pushed me. And now I know that if you were so kind thinking I was stressed and busy with work, you would’ve helped me if I had just told you how I was feeling. But the only thing my mind could think is that you deserved better, Better than me” he started biting his nails, so you took his other hand in yours too. “But still I was so selfish that even though you deserved better, and wanted you around. I was so scared that you would actually find ‘the better’ as soon as you left our house. When Lewis took you, I don’t know. I think it was the worst day of my existence”

“He had good intentions”

“I’m glad he took you, now. I was so involved in my own misery that I couldn’t see how bad it was affecting you. He told me that that day Jaz almost called an ambulance because you were on the verge of a panic attack. I’m so sorry. Do you know I never hooked up with anyone, don’t you?”

You nodded, remembering that Lewis told you what happened. A female fan, a paparazzi. It was enough to build the narrative.

“It’s okay, Mase” you smiled, hurt more by the miscommunication than anything else.

“No, it’s not” he started playing with your fingers and you let him. “God, I should’ve told you. Asked you for help, reassurance, anything”

“A damaged brain doesn’t work properly, Mason. Stop blaming yourself for how you reacted. Yeah, it hurted me and of course in an ideal world you would ask for help and I’d help you, but it’s not how it happened so let’s not stick to the past, alright?” you told him with a gentle tone, stroking his hand with your thumb. “What has happened since Lewis brought me here?”

“I called Luke and told him everything. Like, everything. The dark thoughts and how I treated you and he refused to let me alone. I think he was afraid, so he picked me up and made me sleep at his house. Lewis called me by morning and we had a chat, but everything was so cloudy and I couldn’t make decisions. Anouska was the one who told Luke what to do, so he talked to Lewis himself, put me in the car and took me to the club’s therapist. I’ve been seeing him since”

Mason took a deep breath, and you could feel his hands shaking.

“I know I hurt you, and there’s not a single day from the past four months that I don’t feel like pushing my face for it, and I’m so sorry I made your days harder and sadder, and if I could I’d let you live your life away from me so you could be happy with someone who won’t hurt you, but I can’t. I can’t live without you and I just need one more chance so I can make it up to you” he finally looked at you again. “That’s what I’m here for. I want another chance, Y/N. In your own pace and you can decide everything, but please”

You observed his pinky cheeks and shy gaze, smiling when he looked away.

“Are you shy?” you teased, amused that you were still capable of making him feel like a teenager.

“Stop, this is already hard enough” he groaned, making you laugh.

“Sorry” you smiled. “I guess I can accept your offer. First date when?”

“Oh- uh- I was-” he stuttered, and you bit a smile. “Wanna go to my next game?”

“We’re starting over, aren’t we? You shouldn’t bring someone who’s not even your girlfriend to your game” you teased again, giggling when his cheeks got even more redder.

“But I want you to be my girlfriend” he pouted, and his sincerity made your entire body heat. He was still your precious boy, after all.

“You’ll need to win your position back” you shrugged, and Mason was still pouting. “So, first date first”

“Come back to Manchester” his pout grew bigger and you wanted to kiss him, but you held yourself back.

“Mase! I just said you’ll have to win your position back and you want me to live with you?” you laughed, rolling your eyes playfully.

“No! I’ll pay for your hotel” his cheeks were burning. “I just need you around. Plus, how am I supposed to take you on a date if you’re too far away from me?”

“Fair enough. I’ll think about it” you winked, but Mason knows you too well to find out the answer by your smile.

“Lunch is ready” Tony screamed from the kitchen and you got on your feet, still holding his hands.

“Come here” you asked him, smiling when he shyly got closer. “I’m really proud of you, Mason. Even though you needed help to get to a doctor, staying and getting better was your decision”

“Thank you”

“Now let’s eat” you kissed the bridge of his nose and led him to the kitchen, holding his hand.

Tony smiled when he saw Mason’s pinky face and your hands intertwined, but you appreciated his silence about it.

When you heard the unmistakable Summer’s voice screaming ‘that’s uncle Mase’s car’, you knew you were back at home again — or, at least, very, very close.

—

The damn hotel was booked the next morning. Mason spent the night at his parents’, but in a different room, saying that ‘you won’t sleep in the same bed as someone who’s not your boyfriend yet’ — and it was your turn to pout.

By the morning, you were coming back to Manchester with him. It felt weird at first, and leaving the comfort of his parents’ house where you know they’d take care of you was scary, but Mason proved you had nothing to be scared of.

He drove whilst you watched movies and played video games on his big television, telling him you liked his new car.

“Glad you liked it, we’ll use it a lot” was his answer, and something in his tone made you blush before getting back to play.

When he left you in your hotel, Mason warned you he needed to sleep and take care of a few things, but told you to be ready by 7pm.

Mason was punctual, waiting for you exactly at seven. He kissed your forehead, not before making you feel undressed by his gaze, and gave you his arm to hold.

The restaurant was really close so he asked you if you wanted to walk and you accepted. The weather was nice and you loved walking, taking advantage of the situation to press your body against Mason’s.

There wasn’t much to say, so the pair of you walked in silence just enjoying each other’s existence. When you got to the restaurant and the waiter guided you to the reservation, Mason was instantly shy.

“What’s wrong?” you asked him with a teasing smile, not used to how shy he was around you even after so long.

“What are we supposed to talk about? We already know each other” he bit his bottom lip, eyes dragging down your body again. “And your dress makes me nervous”

“Why are you so silly?’ you groaned, and it was your turn to blush. “You can tell me what I’ve lost the last couple of months”

“Fine. I’m back in the squad and they said I can start next week. I also have therapy once a week now and we’re trying natural medicine” he told you shyly, the pinky cheeks you love showing up. “He told me I was in a depressed state but he could help me, and he’s helping”

“This makes me incredibly happy, Mase” you squeezed his hand over the table, his face turning even more red. “I’m genuinely so proud of you, and I hope you know there’s no shame in asking for help and taking medicine. And even though he is indeed helping you, you’re doing the hard job”

“Thank you” he smiled, holding your hand. “Now your turn. What have I lost?”

“I’ve been studying a lot” you smiled, not knowing how to tell him the news. “And some universities kinda accepted me?”

“Really? This is amazing babe, you know I’ve always thought you were the most intelligent person I’ve ever met”

It was true, Mason always told you how intelligent you were, and even though receiving compliments made you really shy, you were blushing for another reason, the way the pet name slipped through his lips like he never stopped using them with you.

“Yeah, one in Manchester, two in London and another one in Barcelona”

“Great. You’re so fucking good, it’s insane how you always makes me proud. Are you going to one of them?” he praised you, making your face burn with shame — and something else.

“I want to, but I haven’t decided to which one yet”

You had, actually.

“As long as you choose the one you really wants, I’ll be happy for you” he raised an eyebrow, demonstrating that he meant it.

“Even though it’s far away from you?” you asked nervously and Mason instantly picked up on what you were thinking.

“Y/N, look at me” he asked you, only speaking again when your eyes were locked on his. “I lived four months of my life away from you and the worst wasn’t being away from you. It was knowing why we were far away from each other. As long as you’re mine, distance it’s just a detail”

You squeezed his hand over the table, trying to bite a smile. After dinner and a few conversations about everything and anything in particular, Mason paid the bill and asked you to take you home.

“Do you mean, to my hotel room?” you giggled, hugging his arm.

The walk back was light and you felt your chest warm, the happiness of having Mason back — but more important, the happiness of seeing that Mason also got his true self back, overwhelming you.

When the pair of you stopped in front of the hotel, you hugged Mason’s waist.

“Thank you. It was really nice”

“It was nice to me too” he kissed your forehead, smiling bigger when you raised your face to look him in the eyes. After a few seconds staring into them, Mason brushed his nose against yours. “Kissing on a first date it’s acceptable for you? I miss your kisses”

“You’re making things difficult for me, you know? I’m trying to make you wait” you giggled, your smile so wide it was hurting your cheeks.

“I don’t wanna wait” he whined before kissing your jaw. “But, I know I deserve to wait. So I see ya next week?”

“Wait” you pushed his jacket when he started to distance from your body, bringing him closer. “I kinda had a rough time before our date. Would you mind-”

“You’re inviting me over on our first date?” Mason teased, his hand now stroking your jaw.

“Mase” you groaned, making him giggle.

“Cuddles and ice cream?” he murmured, stroking your cheek and your eyes watered a bit to the fact he still knows what you like to do when you’re slightly upset.

“And you’ll have to watch This Is Us”

“Oh no” he groaned playfully, as if he wasn’t dying to have this exact type of night with you. “You can’t tell anyone if I cry”

“Deal” you smiled, guiding him to your room.

Of course he ordered a few ice cream flavours, not letting you pay for any, and tucked himself in bed with you, trying to find a comfortable and respectful position.

You’ve always loved being in Mason’s arms and he never failed to make you feel secure whilst he was holding you, and soon the pair of you were practically sleeping.

So after countless episodes and a sleepy Mason you turned off the television and searched for a more comfortable position, laying your head on his shoulder and crossing his body with your upper leg.

At that moment, it felt like nothing ever happened. That you were still the sweet couple that moved to Manchester chasing his dreams.

But something did happened, and the memory brought tears to your eyes. Since that day you’ve never cried to Mason anymore, and you miss the way he used to comfort you and tell you things would be fine. It was your safe space to show emotions, and now you’re slightly afraid of crying in his arms again.

“I’m so sorry” Mason whispered, anticipating what you were feeling and breaking the silence. When you started crying he kissed your head, hugging you tight.

Seeing you cry was always the hardest for him, and knowing damn well it was his fault only made it worse.

“I’m sorry too, for not being there for you. I’ve been thinking about it since Portsmouth and fuck, I feel so stupid. How the fuck I didn’t noticed” you tried to speak, choking on your words.

“No” he kissed your forehead one more time. “Absolutely not, this is not your fault. I was dumb, I didn’t ask for help, I pushed you away when all you did was love me. You shouldn’t feel guilty about how I dealt with it”

“How are you feeling now?” you murmured, running your fingers through his chest and trying to make the tears stop from falling. “You can be honest with me, you know”

Mason caressed your lower back, sighing and thinking for a moment.

“Happy, honestly. I’m happy, Y/N. I know I’ve fucked up with you and that we’re only here right now because you have the most generous heart, but I’m so happy that I’m here. I’m happy about the treatment, I’m happy at the club, and even though I don’t know how our future will be and if you’ll ever gonna be mine again, I’m happy that I got to hold you tonight”

“I’m not gonna lie to you, what happened hurt me a lot. But I’m also pretty good at understanding the other side, and I understand yours. I understand how scared you must’ve felt, how lost and confused” you kissed his chest over the fabric of his shirt. “There wasn’t a single day that I didn’t miss being your girl”

“I don’t wanna hurt you ever again”

“But you will. And I bet I’ll hurt you sometimes. Relationships are like this, baby, but as long as we didn’t mean it then we can always talk about it and get back on track”

“So this means we’re back?” Mason whispered, afraid he got it wrong and you were about to say no.

“If I say yes now then I’m really bad at making you wait” you giggled, kissing his shoulder. “Maybe in two more dates?”

Mason nodded, snuggling further into you.

“I missed this so much” he murmured, holding you so tight it was almost like you were the same person.

“Snuggling?” you changed your positions so he could lay on top of you and scratched his hair.

“Yes” he nodded again. “And you calling me baby”

You laughed, kissing the tip of his nose.

“I never wanted to stop, you know”

“I know. You’ll never have to stop ever again” he reassured you, his fingers stroking your waist.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, I’ll be your baby forever” he kissed your neck, squeezing your body tighter and pulling his face away so he could look in your eyes. “But I said what I said, you deserve better”

You sighed, not wanting to debate this again

“Mase, don’t-”

“Shhh” he silenced you with a peck on your lips, making you smile. “So I’ll be better for you”

You stared at him for a few seconds, observing the silly smile he was giving you after stealing a kiss, the way his eyes were burning your skin and how closer to you he got by every second.

“I guess maybe that kiss doesn’t have to wait two more dates” you murmured, feeling genuinely happy when he instantly kissed you properly for the first time in so long.

[chelseeebe]

everything has changed

you and steve were once the bestest of friends, cruelly torn apart when you’re forced to leave hawkins suddenly. fifteen years on, everything has changed and yet, nothing has changed.

i had this idea a while ago and then have recently become re-obsessed with the song so decided to give it a rewrite! it’s kinda giving seven x everything has changed and i love that. i have a sitcom level idea of a part two for this but i’m not sure it’ll ever come to fruition

18+. no smut but my blog is 18+ :) mostly just fluffy friends to lovers stuff hehe

‎♡‧₊˚

“you promise we’ll be friends forever?” steve asks, quirking his little eyebrows up. still so innocent, so unaware that the world was a cruel place.

“i promise!” you’d shrieked, toothy grin beaming over at him as you sat poised on the climbing frame. “we’ll write letters every week and in the summer you can come and visit!”

steve whooped with glee, the metal frame shaking from the force of his body, “okay! my mom has your mom’s number so i can call you,” grubby hands clinging onto yours.

you throw your arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug, wobbling atop of your tower. full of hope and your shared joy. oblivious to how the next 15 years would play out.

-

life hadn’t been so kind as to keep the two of you in contact. steve’s mom had tried to explain it to him, but his poor seven year old brain couldn’t quite grasp it.

it was only when he was older that he had realised what had happened.

you had been whisked away to california, your mother’s home state, far away from your dad. for your safety of course. his mother had warned him not to mention where you had gone to anyone, and he’d stuck by that.

and really, life had gotten in the way of thinking about you too much. basketball tryouts and getting girls into the back of his bmw had taken precedence over fading thoughts of freckly girls he once knew.

steve was at college now, admittedly tagging along with robin, but he was enjoying it. he played basketball, studied children’s education and had even scored himself a kinda stable girlfriend.

he’s sat in the library, book open and unread in front of him on the table as robin attempts to convince him to go out tonight.

“it’ll be fun! besides, i promised my roommate that i’d go.. y’know she’s having a hard time,” turning on the puppy dog eyes that more often than not, worked on him.

he groans, “i don’t know rob.. finals are coming up soon and i really need to get this down if i wanna graduate with you,” though he makes no effort to actually pick up the book, more interested in the coffee robin had used as a bargaining chip.

“steve,” almost warningly, “come for an hour,” nodding at him, as if to subliminally make him agree, “and then i’ll help you study all day tomorrow, okay?” tilting her head, bright green* eyes glistening at him.

“fine,” succumbing to her pleas, “but you owe me,” sending a glare across the table as he finally turns the page.

robin grins, happy she’d gotten her own way. again.

-

they walk arm in arm into the bar, squeezing through the crowd as they attempt to locate robin’s mysterious roommate.

steve sighs, whispering into robin’s ear, “why do i have to be here? just because your roommate is a lonely weirdo, doesn’t mean you have to drag me out too,” pouting like a petulant child.

she pinches his arm, causing him to yelp into her ear, “this is why i used to pray for the ceiling light to fall on your head in mrs click’s class,” pulling away from him as she spots whoever she’s looking for.

“wait.. what?” he calls out after her, weaving through the crowd to find her again.

she has her face buried into someone’s shoulder, blabbering about the busy bar and how good it was to get out.

robin pulls away, gesturing over to steve as this lucrative stranger meets his eye.

it’s you.

the little girl who had promised to be his best friend forever now stood before him, all grown up. he almost doesn’t believe it. in fact, he can’t. not until you speak, his name echoes around meaninglessly.

“what the fuck?” he gasps, still in utter shock.

“it’s really you? you’re.. oh my god, you’re steve of course you are,” wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a hug, the exact way you had fifteen years ago.

you even smell the same, a distinct sort of vanilla smell that takes his mind hurtling fifteen years into the past. he almost wants to throw up from the turbulence of it all.

“i can’t believe you’re here,” you gasp, still nuzzled into his shoulder, “this is so surreal,” now holding him at arms length, dissecting his face in the same way he was yours.

you looked the same and yet completely different. no more gappy smiles or sun bleached hair, very pretty. his seven year old self had thought so too, but your friendship had meant more.

“you two know each other?” robin perplexes, watching the scene unfold with zero context.

“we.. uh- yeah,” unsure of how much he can divulge, still under strict orders from his mom to never tell a soul where you’d gone.

“we were friends, i was born in hawkins so.. god, this is so weird,” you exasperate, letting go of his frame to talk to a bewildered robin.

“you’re from hawkins? you told me you were from california?” robins face twists in confusion.

“it’s a.. complicated story,” you look back at him, still trying to decipher if he was even real, “i moved away when i was young but we were like, best friends,” baring your teeth with your smile.

“well shit, i’ve got time,” robin laughs, sliding into the booth, she looks up at steve, “drinks on you.. you know, to celebrate,” wiggling her brows in that irritating way she did when she wanted something.

he dutifully obliges as you begin your story, he supposes that now you probably can.

your dad had moved out of hawkins a while ago, it wasn’t exactly a secret as to why you guys had just up and left so abruptly. steve had always hated him, made sure to glare daggers into his back when he and his mother would pass him in the street or in melvalds. he felt he owed you that.

plus steve was angry, angry that you’d had to leave him behind because of your dad. his tiny mind couldn’t comprehend that it was for the better, only understanding that it was your dad’s fault his best friend had been taken from him.

steve’s curious about california, how your life differed from hawkins. you play it off as nothing special but you smile differently when you speak of afternoons after school spent on the beach and learning to surf.

he makes some off-hand comment about making it out which causes your brows to furrow, “so did you,” tapping the table in front of him, “remember we would talk about college? living in a big house together?”

he chortles, almost choking on his beer, “yeah, with ten dogs and three cats,” shaking his head at the ridiculousness of it all.

“wow..” robin butts in, “so you did this with other girls before me?” faux-offence written all over her face.

you beam, looking between the two of them, “so are you guys dating?”

steve does choke this time, sputtering as the bitter liquid slides down the back of his throat.

“no!” they chime in unison.

“jesus christ, you think i’d date him?” robin falls into a fit of giggles, it didn’t hurt his ego anymore. robin had very particular tastes and that very much didn’t include men.

“thanks rob..” he snarls jokingly, “i uh, i have a girlfriend.. just not robin,” he’s not sure why he’s apprehensive to tell you. christ, he’d only re-known you for five fucking minutes.

“sorry, i just assumed..” shrinking into your seat, desperate to change the subject.

he’s modestly pleased that you don’t ask any more about his girlfriend, which in turn makes him feel a rotten sense of guilt.

“yeah well, to assume makes an ass out of you and me,” robin adds, giving you a poke to your ribs for good measure, “and he’s definitely not my type,” her nose shrivelling up in disgust.

you snigger, poking robin right back as she explodes into her myriad of reasons why she would never date steve. she kept a list.

there’s a sickening feeling of affinity, like all the years you hadn’t been together just ceased to exist, they no longer mattered.

especially when your eyes meet as robin prattles on, like you’re sharing an old joke.

he doesn’t like this, doesn’t fancy his odds of coming out of this unscathed but that doesn’t stop him from shifting his chair closer as the night goes on. nor does it stop him from walking you home, supporting a tipsy robin on his arm.

and it most certainly doesn’t effect him when you hug him goodnight, nestling your chin into his shoulder the way you used to.

fuck.

-

steve climbs down the steps into the strange smelling studio, he hadn’t even known this ever existed. there’s art littering the walls, the shelves, just about any surface that was available.

you’re at the back of the empty room, dabbing a paintbrush onto a canvas, completely unaware of his presence.

“hey.. robin said you’d be down here,” he speaks softly, so as to not startle you.

you still jump, clutching your chest as you spin on your heel, “jesus christ,” panting rather dramatically, “you scared the shit outta me,” shock turning into a wide smile.

“sorry,” he chuckles, weaving through the easels, trying his damn hardest not to touch or knock anything over, “what ya’ working on?” peering at the canvas.

it’s a beautiful scene, a lone swing set lies in the middle, surrounded by a peachy-pink sunset. it’s reminiscent of something he can’t quite place.

“oh just..” shrugging him off, “some stuff for my exhibition.. i dunno if i like it yet,” downplaying the glorious work of art in front of him. as if there were any need.

“what are you talking about? it’s so good,” still clinging onto his backpack strap.

you shake your head, taking the apron off of your body, tossing it onto the hook full of other dirtied aprons. “i can do better.. anyway, did you trek all the way down here for a reason or..?”

he lingers by the painting for a second longer before turning to face you, remembering his actual aim, “yes! are you joining us for dinner tonight? robin wants you to meet all of our friends,” he offers, though he’s aware it’s not much of a deal for you.

“uh.. who’s gonna be there?” you ask, quirking a brow. he’s aware that you’re not exactly a social butterfly.

“well, nancy, jonathan, vickie.. argyle, if jonathan can convince him to come out,” they were all nice enough, if he and robin liked you, they definitely would too.

“i dunno..” wrinkling your nose.

“come on,” he pleads, “it’ll be fun.. they’ll love you. nance’s been begging me to get you out.. please?”

you shake your head, as if weighing up your options, “okay.. fine, but dinner’s on you,” as you drop the pallet into the sink for someone else to deal with.

“great,” he beams, there’s something to be said about the fact he still hadn’t introduced katie to the rest of his friends yet.. but he doesn’t wanna think about that.

his hand comes to rest on what he thinks is a dry desk, waiting for you to finish up, only to find his hand now covered in goopy white paint, “oh shit,” he fusses, pulling your attention from the sink.

“oh fuck, i should’ve told you that was wet..” looking between his outstretched hand and his eyes, a giggle bubbling on your lips as he stomps over to the sink.

“oh is this funny to you, huh?” joining you at the basin.

you run the hot water for him, grabbing the bottle of soap ready to clean his hand, “well it’s a little funny,” lips twitching while he stands like a lemon.

as steve normally does, he acts before he thinks, pressing his paint-covered palm to your cheek, only registering what he had done when you shriek in response, splashing water everywhere.

“you asshole!” you gasp, brows furrowed as you conjure up something for revenge.

that’s when you grab the still paint-covered brush and smear it over his cheek and nose, staining his features a daring bright orange.

“oh it’s like that is it?” he grins, grabbing your wrist with his clean hand, threatening to mark you again. “you don’t wanna mess with me, i’ve got the upper hand,” sticking his tongue out slightly, unable to shake the way your eyes still glistened the same.

“if you want me to come to dinner, you’ll put your hand down.. call a truce,” bargaining with him.

he obliges, holding his hands up in surrender, “okay.. okay, you win,” unable to contain his laughter as he washes the paint from his palm.

you shoulder barge him as you come back to the sink, pulling your clean brushes from the water and leaving them to dry on the metal board.

“we’re gonna have to swing by my room,” you smile begrudgingly, shoving your stuff into your bag, watching as he dries his hand.

“okay,” his grin still lingering, “personally, i think you should just come to dinner like that.. it looks great,” enjoying the ribbing that came with being your friend.

you scoff, practically pushing him out of the studio, ensuring he couldn’t wreck havoc on anything else.

the pair of you glide down the hall, steve filling you in on the guests that would joining you for dinner when a voice calls his name from in front.

katie bounds up to him, smile fading the second she sees the new colour of his face, “why are you orange?” face screwed up as she rescinds her offer of a kiss. he’s slyly thankful that your adorned his face now.

“oh we.. i- i tripped, got paint everywhere,” he chuckles, feeling like a scolded child.

katie hums, “right.. that’s kinda weird,” her eyes flit over to you and the paint on your face, “you trip too?” a judgemental look flashing across her features.

“no,” shrinking into yourself, “steve.. tripped,” doubting your own words, like your measly paint fight needed to be kept secret. but maybe that’s just how he felt, is that wrong?

he can’t decide.

“hmph,” katie frowns, her attention turning back to steve, “go and clean up.. you look like a clown,” before speeding off down the hall, ponytail flouncing around as she goes.

he just rolls his eyes continuing out of the building as you scurry along behind, “she seems nice,” sarcasm dripping off your tongue.

“ignore her,” brushing the whole encounter off, “she’s just.. pissy because i’m busy tonight, don’t take it personally,” offering a short smile. he glances at his watch, grimacing at the time, “oh shit, we’re late,” grabbing your hand as he starts sprinting ahead.

“i can’t meet your friends like this!” you holler, bounding behind him.

“they won’t mind!” he screams into the wind, dodging other students with a skill only possessed by someone who chronically sleeps through their alarm.

they really don’t.

in fact, robin bursts into laughter as you walk into the diner, “i’m not even gonna ask,” tapping the plush cushion for you to slide in next to her, steve follows closely behind.

the two of you share a look, an inside joke that was just yours. he liked that, it made him feel strangely important. like he was worthy of sharing things with just you.

everyone is lovely, obviously. he had no doubt that they would be. argyle corners you about california, discovering that it is a rather large state and no, you won’t have bumped into each other.

steve doesn’t want the night to end, he’s selfish like that. so he does the sane thing to ensure you spend as much time together as possible, walking you and robin back through campus, still adorned with paint.

“thank you.. for making me go,” you smile coyly once you reach your door, robin had already disappeared off inside, leaving just the two of you.

“no worries.. i told you they’d love you,” shoving his hands into his pockets, mostly so he doesn’t do anything stupid.

you chuckle, reaching for the door handle, “i’ve really missed you, you know? it’s like it’s all hit me at once,” shrugging your shoulders as if that were just some nonchalant comment he would ever be able to forget.

“i missed you too,” he adds, truly meaning it.

sure, he’d found friendship again but nothing had ever felt quite like you. it was different, and even now after years and years of being in separate states, with no idea that the other was even still alive, it all felt normal.

like you could walk back into that park tomorrow, sit on the swings and just natter away about everything and nothing like you used to.

“goodnight, see you tomorrow?” you smile, sliding through the door, waiting just long enough for his reply.

“of course,” returning the smile.

he hums all the way home, a child-like joy overrunning his senses. he thinks about you when he dreams, of sharing crayons and candy. high-pitched giggles and an unfaltering feeling of love.

-

it had been weeks of hanging out now, sharing tales from your childhood, robin was still struggling to understand that you were also from hawkins. “you’re just.. it’s crazy, you’re nothing like the usual hawkins dwellers and the fact that you were friends with him? wow..” she had muttered with a swift jab to steve’s arm.

she had had the bright idea of a sleepover, they hadn’t really been able to since moving to chicago, out of respect for their roommates but now her roommate was you, what was stopping them?

“why don’t we push the beds together?” robin blurts out, like a lightbulb had just gone ding on the top of her head.

you nod excitably, going to heave your bed across the room. steve pushes the end of the bed frame, connecting it to robin’s as she stands there doing absolutely nothing to help.

“phew thanks robin, couldn’t have done that without all your help!” steve quips, throwing his best friend a snide smile.

“shut up dingus, my nails are still wet,” as if that made it okay.

you smile at the two of them, stood in your pyjamas that steve had definitely not been gawping at. he doesn’t mean to, he knows it’s not like that. he has a girlfriend for christ’s sake.

that’s what he’s been telling himself anyway.

“you’re in the middle,” robin declares, looking at you, rather than him, “put your cold feet on somebody else for once,” before climbing into her side of the bed.

you slide in next, cuddling up to robin as you do. steve’s next, fashioned in his excuse for pyjamas, namely a chicago university shirt and his boxers. it probably wouldn’t go down well if katie were to find out but he didn’t particularly care.

there’s a joke there, something about sharing a bed with a lesbian and his childhood best friend but he can’t be bothered to think about it.

not when you turn over to face him, all smiles and warm cheeks, he has to remind himself that robin is on the other side of you, mumbling something about not waking her up early.

“goodnight,” you grin, relaxing into the pillow you shared as the light flickers off.

“night,” he replies, pulling his eyes away from your shadowy features, deciding that staring at the fuzzy ceiling was better than being a freak.

you roll over slightly, head falling onto his shoulder making his breathing falter, sworn to this position until you up and moved. it’s a sacrifice he’s willing to make.

he shouldn’t be thinking like this, you’re friends, old friends to be exact. and he has a girlfriend.

-

except, he awakens in the morning, stiff shoulder and a cricked neck, taking a peek at the other side of the bed to find robin had forced you into him with her sprawling limbs.

you rouse not long after he does, blinking at the light and hurriedly moving your head from his dead arm.

“oh my god,” you remark, “i’m sorry.. was i on you all night?” wriggling around the small space you held.

steve exhales, lifting his arm in the air in an attempt to get some blood flowing back into the extremity, “yup.. it’s okay though,” quickly rolling over to face you, “sleep well?”

“well, apart from robin’s foot in my back.. yeah, pretty well,” chuckling into the pillow as you shy away. he wishes you wouldn’t.

“then it was worth the dead arm,” returning your abnormally bright smile, you were far too chipper for this time in the morning but he didn’t mind. made a difference from the usual grump robin was in, for sure.

“you should sleep over more often,” you smile.

he heart soars, god he’d love to. “oh yeah? like we used to?”

the crinkle by your eye returns, remembering times gone by, “yeah, just like that,” speaking softly, as if it wouldn’t take an industrial alarm to wake robin.

“you wanna go get breakfast?” he asks, before this devolves any further.

“absolutely.”

-

there’s a knock at the door, tommy doesn’t flinch, doesn’t even make a half assed effort to pretend to care so steve huffs and gets up to answer.

you’re stood on the other side, already smiling as you wait. it’s a welcome sight, without robin he’s been a little stir-crazy, not yet brave enough to venture to your room without her there.

maybe he’s afraid that something would happen, maybe he’s not. he’s not entirely convinced that he’d have the power to stop himself.

“i just came to give you a ticket.. for my exhibition, it’s on saturday so.. if you’re busy i totally get it,” you fret, offering out the ticket to him.

there’s an undetermined feeling in his stomach, looking down at the paper ticket in his pal, warmth rushing to his chest at the fact you’d even considered him.

steve steps out of the room, closing the door behind him, away from tommy and listening ears. tommy and katie were friends somewhat, mostly by association through his girlfriend carol. anyhow, he wasn’t keen on him telling some misconstrued story to carol and then reaping the punishment from that.

“wow..” still starstruck that you had asked him. “i’ll be there.. wouldn’t miss it,” sliding the ticket into his pocket, mostly so he would stop looking like a weirdo for staring at it.

“okay,” you nod, smile up to your ears, “it’s only small..” here you go again, downplaying your talent as if steve would ever care.

“stop it,” he warns, jokingly rolling his eyes, “hey, i’ll walk you back.. i needa get out of that fucking room,” gesturing for you to take the lead.

you chatter all the way across campus, talking about everything and nothing, he wants to ask if that painting of the swingset will be there but doesn’t. letting you blabber on about composition and the asshole gallery manager that wants you to set up at 6am.

its only when you reach your hall that you stop, turning to face him with a genuine smile that makes his heart thud.

“it’d really mean a lot if you came..”

he nods, stepping closer only just, “i will, i’ll be there,” assuring you as much as he could. he meant it, too. there’s really nothing he could think of that would make him not go.

he allows his gaze to slip to your lips, he lets himself do that even though he shouldn’t.

studying the curve, the slight gap between your bottom and top lip, the way they twitch with what he hopes is anticipation.

you’re both inching closer, neither of you acknowledging what’s about to happen. the air is thick, silent even. a knowing sense that you’re either about to ruin everything or become something more.

two doors down, a door swings open, a voice bellowing out, “i’ll catch up!” before a boy speeds out, glancing at the two of you briefly before disappearing.

you clear your throat, averting your gaze, studying the dirtied floor, “okay.. i’ll see you saturday,” coy smile as you unlock the door and potter off inside.

steve stands there, blinking at the wooden frame as if you’d somehow materialise from the other side.

he hightails it back to his room, in some sort of daze as he attempts to reconfigure himself. his relationship and his friendship with you. nothing made sense.

he’s not sure it ever will again.

fuck he wishes robin were here. of course she’s at some stupid family reunion when he needs her most. his next port of call would be you and well.. that didn’t seem particularly helpful.

he errs on calling robin, floating around his room with no purpose. at least tommy was no where to be seen, unsure if he could’ve handled his beady little eyes and snooping questions.

katie would be waiting on him, he always stayed over on thursdays, at least he used to. before you were back i. the picture. before you had completely consumed his mind with your stupid smile and stupid face. both a distant memory and an important part of his current life. it’s fucking dizzying.

it’s not really stupid, he thinks he’s stupid actually.

steve does what he does best and decides to ignore his brain, grabs his keys and storms out of his dorm. he’s grateful that katie’s house is on the opposite side of campus from your building. that way he couldn’t accidentally wind up there instead of where he’s supposed to be.

she welcomes him in, a pink, frilly house that steve had always detested a little bit. it smelt too strongly of vanilla and the other girls always side-eyed him, bitter and judgemental over something he couldn’t figure out.

it’s now that they’re sat on katie’s satin bedsheets that he realises that he really, really doesn’t want to be here.

nevertheless, he swallows it down. putting on false pretences as they fake-watch the shitty rom-com she’d turned on to fill the silence.

“so.. have you got your suit for saturday?” katie asks, playing with his limp hand.

“yeah,” resisting the urge to move his hand away, “sorry- saturday? i thought it was tomorrow?”

katie had asked- or more precisely begged him to escort her to this senior send off ceremony. some bullshit sorority ritual that made zero sense to him.

“uh.. no, always been saturday,” she’s still smiling, still trying, “steve, i told you weeks ago,” her frustrations seeping out of her pores, spilling over onto her features.

“you said friday,” so sure of himself, so sure that she was wrong. how would he forget that?

unless something, or perhaps someone was shrouding his mind.

“well, what plans are more important than your girlfriend’s senior send off?” she asks, all defensive.

he struggles to answer, there’s no way he can really spin it to make it sound less bad, strangled noises drift from his throat as the words fail to form.

“exactly,” katie pouts, crossing her arms over her chest, “you’ll just have to rearrange.”

steve doesn’t stay over, makes up some shoddy excuse about needing to study to get out of it. she’s not happy, obviously, but when is she?

he’s grateful that the campus is quiet as he stalks back to his dorm, thoughts swirling through his brain. everything is so confusing, his cushy little college life had been majorly disrupted and now all of the plans he had made had come crashing down.

there had been conversations about finding a house after graduation, moving in together randomly starting their life and yet, that couldn’t be further than what he wanted.

at least now.

-

steve finally gives up, turning to the only person he thinks will rationalise his thoughts, robin buckley. who has pulled her grandmother’s phone into the private dining room just for this conversation.

“we nearly kissed,” he spits out, eyeing the group of drunk students passing in the hallway. wouldn’t it be great if it somehow got back to katie through some nosy busybody.

“what? when? why didn’t you call me sooner?” she demands, “why didn’t you kiss? oh my god steve harrington, you’re so useless.”

“uh.. what do you mean why didn’t we kiss? remember my girlfriend? who’d chop my balls off if i ever cheated on her?”

“who cares? nobody likes her anyway,” robin roars right into his ear.

“i’m not gonna even acknowledge that.”

“okay, well, did you want to kiss her?”

steve pauses, perplexing the situation. he doesn’t need to really, of course he wanted to.

“..yeah.”

“well there you go!” she shrieks.

“it felt.. weird, i dunno, i think she wanted to too,” he curls the cord around his finger, “and now katie wants me to go to this senior send-off thing but there’s the exhibition.. i don’t know what to do,” his shoulders slumping.

“wait wait wait, what do you mean it felt weird?” dismissing his dilemma. you know, the thing he had actually called her about.

“well it felt right.”

the line goes silent but he can still hear her faint breathing down the line. she’s thinking, probably attempting to sweeten up her words. but eventually she sighs, “i think you know what to do.”

“but i don’t! rob i really don’t! why do you think i’m calling you at fucking one am?”

she clicks her tongue and steve can picture what smug look she has on her face, it was a signature feature of hers, especially when she’d been able to prove him wrong. “you do. i think you called me because you wanted me to tell you what you want to hear.. but i don’t even need to do that.”

he wails into the receiver, all he’d wanted was a clear cut answer from his best friend. a little advice and maybe some confirmation bias, was that too much to ask for?

“you’re no help,” he scowls, patting his now empty pockets in search of more coins, “i haven’t got any more change.. i’m gonna have to go,” sighing as he’s left on his own with his head once more.

“you’ll do the right thing, steve. i know you and i trust you,” before the line cuts out, the dial tone screams out.

he slams the piece of useless plastic back onto the holder. that wasn’t helpful, rather just some weird, reverse psychology lesson. he feels cheated, his first option of just flipping a coin would’ve been more helpful.

his feet drag along the carpet back to his room, swallowing the guilt and all of the other confusing emotions he seemed to have accumulated.

it’s funny that even though robin hadn’t exactly said anything specific, he’d known what she was talking about. it’s even funnier that as he climbs into bed, all he can think about is you.

-

steve hangs back, stood at the back while the speech finishes. he doesn’t know what he’s doing here, what he’s supposed to be looking at or talking to, incredibly out of place.

no one pays him any mind, too interested in whatever this balding man has to say.

you don’t spot him either, keeping your eyes trained to the art director. he can tell you’re nervous, picking indiscreetly at your hangnail, chewing on your cheek. you’d never liked, or been particularly good at public speaking, steve was your voice for many years. not that he minded.

there’s lots of chatter, people walking around the small space with their hands behind their back, putting on this facade that they were art snobs and not just weird middle-aged people looking for something to do on a saturday afternoon.

they all sort of disperse, ogling the paintings and such. leaving him stood in the middle of the room like a lemon, wondering if he should just go over to you or wait until this had all finished.

but you meet his eye momentarily, head snapping in his direction when you realise who it is. your lips slowly curve into a smile, ditching the conversation to weave through everyone to him.

“you came,” you state, like there was ever a chance of him not coming.

“i told you i would,” he’s not one to break a promise. ever.

“no i know but, robin mentioned something about your girlfriend, she didn’t know if you were.. forget it,” throwing your hands about, ridding the air of your words.

he’s not exactly surprised that you’d have doubts, not after your almost-kiss the other night. he hadn’t seen you since, too busy with the exhibit to sit and dwell on it, he bets.

steve shakes his head, “nah, i had something more important to do,” full of unbridled exhilaration, it’s like his body knew he had made the right choice.

you flush, avoiding his eyes as you usually do when you’re nervous or embarrassed. “well.. thank you,” shrugging him off. he so wish you wouldn’t.

he decides to just lay it all bare, tired of skirting around the truth and minimising his obviously very real feelings. “this isn’t the right time but,” smoothing down his wrinkled shirt, “i just wanted you to know that i’ve wanted to do this for weeks and.. shit,” he sighs, cupping your cheek and moving in before you can protest.

your lips connect, sending flames through his veins, you’re not expecting it judging by the lack of movement on your part, stood frozen even as he pulls away.

“sorry,” the first thing he says, watching your face as you stand shocked.

he was so sure that his feelings would be reciprocated, had pretty much convinced himself that you were destined to grow grey together but maybe he’d got it all wrong.

his cheeks burn as you just blink, time slows and he wishes that the floorboards would just collapse under him so he could disappear forever.

in lieu of a reply, you smash your faces together again, this time steve’s not quite expecting it, your noses bang against each others. but he doesn’t move, his smile growing against your lips.

there are a collection of muttered oohs from the crowd. it was rather a lot for a saturday morning.

“sorry,” you echo, biting down into your bottom lip, “not the wrong time at all,” your eyes shining through your spindly lashes.

steve bursts into laughter, drawing an even bigger crowd of eyes as he does so. his eyes dart around the vaguely stunned audience, “hey look, find me after.. i’ll be here,” gently pushing you off to go and do whatever the hell it is that artists do at these things.

you nod, all dazed and smiley, immediately falling into conversation about a painting.

-

he’s only dozing when the door creaks open, too encapsulated by sleep to bother to open his eyes. you’re dead to the world, snoring softly curled into his chest.

a quiet gasp rings out from the door and then just as expected, robin bounds over to your bed, poking his arm that was both underneath your shoulders and hanging off of the bed.

he peeks a look at his slightly deranged best friend, the lamp was just bright enough to showcase her enthusiastic grin, “you did it!” whispering far too loudly, “i knew you’d make the right choice,” buzzing around the room.

she damn near jumps in the air, clicking her heels together like some freak.

steve just closes his eyes again, falling back into sleep with a grin on his face and you between his arms.

[reysdriver]

Back To School | R.L.

Remus is about to leave to teach at Hogwarts — husband!remus x wife!reader angst/fluff

warnings: it's angst but it's fluffy really

words: 0.5k

a/n: I was gonna finish this and post it way back at the beginning of the month, but then I ended up writing a whole bunch of other stuff so I forgot about this lol

You and your husband had awoken to the early-morning alarm ringing around your bedroom, but Remus shut it off quickly so you could get an extra few minutes in bed together. 

After you decided you had to get up or else Remus would be late, you got up, got ready, and started making a simple breakfast together. You sliced fruit while Remus made toast for you both, then you sat down opposite each other at your table and ate, making small bits of conversation throughout. 

When you finished, you told Remus to leave your plates at the table—you would do a whole load of dishes to distract yourself later—and you both went to collect all of Remus’ things.

Since he got the job at the beginning of summer, you had been giving him all sorts of little gifts, things he would need for work, and some little mementos to remember each other and stay sane while you were apart for so long. 

“And you’re sure you’ve got everything?” You were sure Remus packed everything he’d need for the next three months away in his bags, but you were just stalling so you didn’t have to part ways with him yet. 

“What would I have forgotten, dove?”

You answered him quietly. “Me.”

Your husband fought back a smile, not wanting to seem too happy when you were sad. “I could never forget you, my sweet girl; I just can’t pack you in my suitcase and bring you with me, now can I?”

“We haven’t tried yet…” You said, a half-faux pout on your face. 

The both of you imagined the sight of Remus trying to sneak you into Hogwarts via his luggage. It brought a smile to your face that you didn’t want to be there in this solemn moment. 

“I’d have to choose between you and my clothes, dove. And as tough of a decision as that is, I can’t go to work naked; I’d be fired before classes could even start.”

“That means you would have to come home, right?” You asked it in a way that told him exactly what you were thinking, and he had to shut it down. 

“I would come home, but then we would have no money and would have to live in a shack made of hay somewhere because we wouldn’t be able to afford a whole house with just you working.”

Remus pulled you into a hug, cocooning you in his long arms and his comforting chest. You both stayed in that embrace, breathing slow and deep together to level your emotions. It was nice, just not nice enough knowing that this was the last time you’d be in your flat together until the winter holidays. 

Remus started loosening his grip on your body, which earned him an upset look from you. 

“We’re gonna be late if we don’t go soon. We won’t be able to say goodbye again at the train station if we’re rushing.” He explained nicely. 

You sighed, knowing he was right. “Okay, but you have to promise me at least one good hug at the station.”

“As long as I have time to spare, I’ll give it all to you.”

[nvrsaidiwasinurcloset]

Cinderblock Garden - Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader

This was a request that I got, but after talking with the person that requested it, I made a few changes and didn't want to use the request in the fic lmao. It's LONG AS FUCK and I've been working on this for four days now. There's a lot in this, from events in Scream 5, leading to New York stuff.

*to the sweet soul that requested this, I hope things are a little better for you now, and I hope you like this and that it was worth the wait lmao*

This contains SMUT -Minors DNI

Summary: You're the child of Gale and Dewey, and after losing your dad and almost dying yourself, you struggle with day to day life. When you meet Ethan, he just wants you to let him in, but after your ex, Amber, tried to kill you, you struggle to do that.

Contains: Over 10k words, jesus. Angst, mentions of death, mental health struggles, some fluffy smut tbh. Virgin!Ethan and Virgin!Reader -p in v, oral(f recieving).

A/N: In this fic, Ethan is simply Ethan Landry and has no relation to Richie.

When your parents split, you had the option to move to New York with your mom, Gale, or stay in Woodsboro with your dad, Dewey. You decided to stay with your dad because your mom’s main priority was always her career. Even when you’d go out to visit her every now and then, she’d never take any time off, always leaving you alone in her condo. You couldn’t stand her new boyfriend, either. You hated how quickly she could just move on from your dad when he still loved her so much.

You had your doubts about love after watching your parents’ marriage fall apart, until you met Amber. It started off as a friendship, the perfect distraction from your less than perfect home life. Especially when your dad started drinking, she was always there. You realized that you had feelings, she did, too. Everyone else in the friend group was a little surprised by it, but they were all very accepting of it, wanting nothing more than for you to be happy.

When Tara got attacked, your dad wanted to put you on the first plane to New York. Your mom agreed with him, but you refused. You weren’t going to leave your best friend while she recovered, and you really didn’t want to leave Amber.

“Please, this is what’s best for you,” your dad said, pleading with you to get out of Woodsboro. “You’re the child of two people that have been through this several times. If they went after Tara, they’ll probably come after you. I can’t let that happen.”

You sighed, noticing the whisky bottle in his hand. “You put me through so many self defense classes…I think I can handle myself.”

“I was the sheriff, with far more training than you’ve had. I’ve been stabbed several times…you’re not invincible.”

“I’m not saying I am. If I really am a target, don’t you think they’d find me regardless of if I’m in Woodsboro or not?” you questioned, as he took a swig out of the bottle. “I’m safer here with you.”

He sighed, looking over to you. “Fine, but the tracking app on your phone…if you turn it off so I can’t find you, you’re going to New York. If you don’t come straight home after school, you’re going to New York. If you have a run-in with Ghostface-“

“I’m going to New York. I got it,” you said, rolling your eyes. “So, I’m not allowed to do anything other than go to school or be here?”

“Yeah, that’s right. I’m not going to lose you,” he said, his tone stern.

“Okay, but what happens when you’re at the bar getting wasted and I’m here by myself? Isn’t it safer to have people around me?” You didn’t expect your question to come out as harshly as it did, his face wincing as you spoke. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”

“No, you’re right. I’ll be home more, I promise,” he said, feeling guilty for making you doubt him. “Just…if you do go out with your friends, please be smart about it. Someone you’re close to is probably a part of this…just remember that. And I meant what I said about the phone tracker.”

You nodded, as he pulled you into a side hug. “Your mom is probably coming out here, just so you know.”

“Ugh,” you groaned, “The boyfriend isn’t coming with her, right?”

“I don’t know. I hope not,” he sighed, the sadness in his voice obvious. “You better get to school.”

Everyone in your friend group was on edge. Tara was alive, but her condition wasn’t great. As you joined your friends at the picnic tables outside, Amber wrapped her arm around you.

“Hey, babe,” she said, “Did you get questioned, too?”

“Yeah, I was interrogated for all of five minutes. I guess that’s the perk of being a former sheriff’s kid,” you said, as Wes looked over to you.

“How is your dad? We haven’t seen him in a while,” he asked, as you shrugged.

“He’s still the same. He tried to convince me to go to New York after what happened last night,” you sighed, as Wes gave you a confused look.

“If you had the chance to get far away from here, why the fuck wouldn’t you take it?” he asked, the paranoia that his mom instilled in him apparent as you just looked at him.

“I’m not leaving Tara…or you guys. It’s better to have more people here if this is going to be another huge thing like it’s been before.”

“Yeah, but is it a safety in numbers thing, or will it just add to the body count if you stay?” Mindy asked, as Chad sighed.

“Seriously? We’re all freaked out enough,” he said, as Wes’ phone dinged in his pocket.

“Hey guys, Tara just woke up.”

When everyone got up to leave, you looked around at your friends, thinking back to what your dad said. You saw them all in such a positive light that you couldn’t even begin to suspect any of them.

Once you made it to the hospital, Tara was so happy to see everyone. Or it could’ve been all the pain meds she was on. You sat down at the foot of her bed as she sleepily smiled.

“How are you feeling?” you asked, starting to tear up as you looked at her.

“I’m okay, still shaken up, though,” she sighed, “They have police protection for me, but you guys need to be careful.”

“We’ll be fine,” Amber said knowingly as Tara smiled.

Then you saw someone you hadn’t seen in years walk into the hospital room, with whom you assumed to be her boyfriend when he called her ‘babe’.

“Hey, this is Richie,” Sam said, introducing him as he awkwardly waved.

He gave you the creeps from the start. You couldn’t shake the thought from your mind that he was guilty of something, but your parents always told you that you needed to be cautious of everyone.

“Hey, can I talk to Sam alone?” Tara asked, as everyone nodded. “Thanks for coming to see me.”

“Of course, we’ll be back tomorrow,” you said, standing up to leave.

When you made it out to the hallway, you checked the time and saw a few missed calls from your dad.

“Fuck, I need to get home,” you said, typing a text to him before putting your phone back in your pocket.

“We were going to go have some fun, though,” Amber said, “Is this how it’s going to be? Ghostface comes back and I don’t get to spend time with my girlfriend?”

“You really won’t spend any time with me if I get sent to New York,” you said, as you hopped on the elevator with everyone.

 “This is annoying,” she huffed, “Wes is allowed to go out with us, and you know how his mom is.”

“Hey,” Wes said, “I have a taser and pepper spray, I’m good to go.”

“And I’ve got these hands, but dad doesn’t think that’s good enough,” you laughed, as you made it to the bottom floor. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

Your dad was a little annoyed when you got home, but he was just happy to know you were safe. As much as he hated your decision to stay in Woodsboro, he thought you were a pretty good judge of character and you always paid close attention to your surroundings.

Things just kept getting crazier. When Wes and Judy were killed, you and your dad ran into Sam at the crime scene. You were making small talk with her, when she nudged her head in the direction behind you.

“Isn’t that your mom?” she asked, as you turned around.

You noticed she had a camera crew with her, as you felt anger start to build up. Your dad went over to talk to her, as she kept peaking around him to look at you.

“Typical. Something happens in Woodsboro and she has to get the fucking story on it,” you said to Sam.

She was about to respond when she noticed the cop that was supposed to be watching Tara’s room standing outside of the Hick’s house.

“Who’s with my sister?” She questioned as he looked at her, confused.

She started to yell, getting your dad’s attention as he ran back over to you, your mom hot on his heels.

“I need to get to Tara,” Sam said, running towards her car.

“I’m coming with you,” you said, following her.

“I don’t think so,” Gale said, “You’re staying here, around people so you’ll be safe.”

You scoffed as you turned to look at her, “So now you decide you want to be a parent?”

She was taken aback at your words, as your dad stepped in. “I’ll go, too. She’ll be safe.”

He hopped in the passenger’s seat as you got in the back, your mom just standing there in shock as the three of you sped off.

“You shouldn’t talk to your mother like that,” Dewey scolded, as he noticed Sam’s high rate of speed. “and you should probably slow down.”

“Tara’s by herself. I’m not going to let anything happen to her,” Sam snapped, as she turned onto the road that led to the hospital. “Richie’s on his way, I hope someone gets there in time.”

She got out her phone to call Richie, as she pulled into the hospital parking lot. She was frantic when she realized the call was picked up, but she was terrified once she heard Ghostface’s voice. She stopped the car as she talked, quickly jumping out with you and your dad as you ran inside of the hospital to the elevator to get to Tara’s private floor.

She just kept talking to the killer as you and your dad silently stood beside her. He pulled out his gun, waiting for the doors to open. As soon as they did, he fired a shot, the loud bang making you jump. The masked person scurried away, when everyone piled out of the elevator to save Tara and Richie.

“Tara!” you screamed, running up to her. Your dad ran to Richie as you and Sam helped Tara off the floor.

Your best friend was very emotional and shaken up as her sister hugged her, but you were still on edge. You had a gut feeling that something was about to happen.

Then, you saw Ghostface charge towards Richie and your dad. You grabbed a fire extinguisher off the wall and ran towards the figure that was trying to attack your dad. You hit the person over the head, but you felt a sharp, burning pain in your side as you did. Your dad was able to fight back thanks to your distraction, getting in a few shots as Ghostface fell through the glass case against the hallway wall.

“Fuck,” you cried, holding your wound. Your dad’s arms wrapped around you as he walked you towards the elevator, when Richie walked over to help.

“Thanks,” Dewey said, as he walked you inside. “Shit, I didn’t shoot him in the head.”

“Does that really matter right now?” you asked, as he nodded. He stepped back out of the elevator, a sad smile on his face as he looked at you, doubled over. “Where are you going?”

“I’m going to finish this,” he said, as you craned your neck to look at him.

“Dad, no. You can’t do that!” you cried, as he started to walk down the hall.

“I need to make sure you’re safe. This is how I can do that,” he paused, “I love you.”

As soon as those elevator doors closed, you started screaming, begging to go back to your dad. Sam wouldn’t let that happen. She just kept trying to assure you that he’d be okay, and that you and Tara both needed medical attention.

He wasn’t okay, though. You soon learned what happened to your dad when your mom somberly walked into the hospital room, her sad eyes meeting yours. To say you were emotionally destroyed would’ve been an understatement. You expected your mom to be a little more comforting, and she was trying, but she seemed more interested in getting details on any new leads the detectives might’ve had.

For safety reasons, they moved Tara to the same room as you, making it easier for the police to keep an eye on the both of you.

“She’s really starting to piss me off,” you sighed, as Tara looked over at you. “I’m in here, absolutely fucking devastated, and she’d rather talk to the cops.”

“Maybe she’s just trying to do what she can to keep you safe,” she suggested, “Have you heard from Amber?”

“Yeah, she’s having a party for Wes tonight. Not that you and I will be attending,” you laughed a little, as she smiled.

“Sam wants to get me out of here as soon as possible. I don’t know where she wants to go, but she just wants us to be somewhere safe.”

“That doesn’t sound like a bad idea…maybe I’ll sneak out of here with you guys,” you said, half-joking as Tara started to nod.

“If your mom’s distracted, and the cops are busy talking to her anyway, we could sneak you out.”

“Fuck it, let’s do it.”

Your mom walked back in the room, looking back and forth between you and Tara.

“Do what?” she questioned, as you glanced back over to your friend.

“Oh, um, we were talking about college. We’re both going to apply to Blackmore,” you lied, as your mom started to smile.

“Are you warming up to the idea of New York?” she asked, as you shook your head.

“Not at all, but I want my best friend there with me,” you said, a defeated look appearing on her face.

“It’s not as bad as you think it is.”

After the police finished questioning Richie and Sam for the second time of the day, they joined you, your mom, and Tara in the room. Sidney walked in not long after, a sad smile on her face as she saw you in the hospital bed.

“You’ve grown up so much,” she said, walking over to you, “I’m so sorry about your dad.”

“Thanks, Sid,” you said softly, “How are the kids?”

She smiled at you, “They’re fine. They’re somewhere safe.”

“I wish I was somewhere safe,” you joked, as your mom rolled her eyes.

“You had the chance to come to New York,” she sighed, “If you would’ve just listened to me and your dad then maybe we wouldn’t be in here right now.”

“What, and dad wouldn’t be dead, too?” you snapped, looking towards her.

“I didn’t say that…this whole ‘you hating me’ thing isn’t going to work. We need to be there for each other.”

You were about to respond when a detective came in to talk to your mom. She stepped out with Sidney, walking to the next hallway over so you wouldn’t hear the conversation.

“Now’s our chance,” Tara said, as Sam looked between you two, confused.

“Chance for what?”

“We’re sneaking her out with us,” Tara said, wincing as she pulled her IV out.

“What the fuck are you doing? You haven’t been discharged yet,” Sam sighed, looking over to see you doing the same. “I’m not kidnapping you, I’m sorry.”

“Look, we want to be somewhere safe. She isn’t going to be safe if she stays here and we go. Her mom’s barely paid attention to her since we’ve been in here…if you want me to go, she’s going too,” Tara said, as Sam sighed, looking over to Richie. He shrugged, walking over to the door to peak out.

“No cops, no Gale,” he said, as Sam rolled her eyes.

“Fuck it, fine. You both better hurry up though.”

You did as Sam said, the both of you quickly changing before sneaking past the nurses’ station towards the exit.

After your mom and Sidney finished talking to a detective in the next hall over, she came back to see your bed empty. She started to panic, noticing your IV line resting on top of the bed and most of your stuff gone. She looked over to the other side of the room, realizing that Tara was gone, too.

“Excuse me, where did they take my daughter?” Gale asked one of the nurses that’d passed by the doorway.

He grabbed an iPad off the nurse’s station, trying to pull you up. “She doesn’t have any testing or anything scheduled…she’s not in her room?” He craned his neck to peak around, noticing the empty bed.

“She’s a minor, isn’t there some kind of alert you guys have for this?!” She yelled, as the nurse nodded.

“I’ll take care of that right away.”

It didn’t matter, though. You’d already made it out of the hospital by the time the code was called.

“Where do you think she went?” Sydney asked, as your mom tried to rack her brain.

“I’m not the mom of the year, okay? I barely know her anymore,” she sighed, as Sidney sympathetically smiled at her.

“Whatever happened, now that Dewey’s gone, you’re going to have to fix that relationship,” she said, as your mom nodded. “She’s a good kid.”

“I know, I just hope she’s okay.”

When you were in the back seat with Tara, her asthma was flaring up as she tried to find her inhaler.

“Fuck, I don’t have it,” she panicked, as Sam looked at her in the rearview mirror.

“Can you wait until we’re in the next town?” she asked, as Richie glanced back to see Tara’s breathing getting worse.

“No…this is getting bad,” you said, trying to search Tara’s purse again. “Do you still have the spare one at Ambers?”

“Yeah, Sam, we need to go to Amber’s,” Tara said, as Sam shook her head.

“I don’t think so,” she said, her lack of understanding for how bad the situation was starting to piss you off.

“She’s going to be dead by the time we get to the next fucking town. Go to Amber’s,” you yelled, as Sam hesitantly nodded. “Turn left up here.”

As your mom and Sidney searched around the hospital hoping to find you, she remembered the app Dewey put on your phone so he’d always know where you were. He gave her the log-in too just in case she ever needed it. She quickly pulled her phone out, checking to see what your location was as Sidney looked at her.

“She’s not even here,” Gale said, as she and Sidney bolted towards the exit.

Once they made it in the car and started to drive, your mom was looking at the tracking app, noticing that you’d stopped.

“Turner Lane, why does that sound so familiar?” she asked, as Sidney’s eyes grew wide.

“Please don’t tell me that’s where she is,” Sidney said, pressing the gas a little harder, “Stu Macher used to live on Turner Lane.”

“Oh fuck,” Gale said, as she tried to call you.

Your phone was on silent in your pocket as you went up to Amber’s room. The party downstairs was in full swing as you tried to help your girlfriend search for Tara’s inhaler.

“Are you okay?” Amber asked, “I’m sorry about your dad.”

“I don’t really want to talk about it,” you sighed, thinking about him as you dug through a box on top of Amber’s dresser. “Found it!” you held up the inhaler as she smiled.

“Can you please call me when you make it to wherever you’re going so I know you’re safe, please?” she asked, as she stepped towards you.

“Yeah, I just need to get the fuck away from my mom for a few days.”

She nodded in understanding as you ran out of her room, down the stairs to find Tara.

“Stupid bitch,” Amber muttered, once she knew you couldn’t hear her.

After you gave Tara her inhaler, you pulled your phone out of your pocket to see twenty missed calls from your mom.

“Jesus, someone’s freaking out,” you said, showing Tara the screen.

“Maybe you should call her back. Just let her know you’re okay.”

“Fine,” you sighed, but before you had the chance to call her, she was calling you again.

You answered, “Hey mom, I’m fine-“

“You need to get the fuck out of that house right now!” she yelled, the second she heard your voice.

“How do you know where I am?” you questioned, annoyance in your tone as she started to yell again.

“You’re in Stu Macher’s house,” your heart started to race as you looked over to Sam, Tara, and Richie. You’d heard that name many times before. You started to look around, thinking about how the party at his house was the finale of the first Woodsboro Massacre where your dad was stabbed.

“We need to get out of here, right now,” you said to them, as Richie started to smirk.

“Did someone finally figure it out?” he asked, the psychotic excitement in his voice making your skin crawl.

“What are you talking about?” you asked, jumping as you heard a gunshot coming from the living room, accompanied by several screams. “What the fuck is going on?”

Sam and Tara started to back away from Richie as you looked at him.

“God, you know, you guys really are the perfect victims. Serial killer dad,” he said, looking to Sam, “oblivious little sister,” he said to Tara, before turning to you, “and the child of the sheriff that tried to take down Billy and Stu. It’s hilarious. You get to die where he should’ve.”

“Fuck you,” you said through gritted teeth, as he started to step towards you.

“You want to know what the best part of this whole little fucked up scenario is, though?” he asked, as Amber walked into the room. “I’ve been fucking your girlfriend.” Sam glanced over to you, the obvious look of disgust and betrayal painted on both of your faces.

Your mouth dropped as you looked over to Amber. “Sorry, baby,” she said, so nonchalantly that your blood was starting to boil. You shook your head as you thought back to your dad telling you that you probably knew who was responsible for everything.

“Did you kill my dad?” you asked Amber as she shrugged, muttering “Maybe,” as you stepped towards her.

“Don’t get any ideas,” Richie said, pulling out a knife and pointing it at you as Sam and Tara started to back away, looking at you. You nodded towards the side door as Amber walked up to kiss Richie.

While they were distracted, you glanced along the counters to see if there was anything you could use that would be helpful. You saw the knife block, and as the rage started to build up even more towards Amber for stabbing you and killing your dad.

You subtly grabbed a knife from behind you, and started to step towards them as you held it firmly in your hand behind your back.

“Where did the other two go?” Amber asked, pulling away from Richie as he turned around to look.

“I’ll go find them,” he said, waving his knife around. “Don’t try anything. She doesn’t love you enough to save you.”

As soon as he walked away, you looked at Amber. “Is that true? You don’t love me enough to save me?”

“I never fucking loved you. God, I only wanted to get close to you and your friends. It amazes me how stupid you are,” she scoffed, as you stepped even closer, “What are you going to do? I was stronger than your dad, you dumb bitch. Do you really think you’re going to win in a fight against me?”

“I don’t need to be stronger than you,” you smiled, “Because you’re the one that doesn’t have a knife right now.”

As soon as you pulled the knife from behind your back, she darted towards the gun on the kitchen island. You were quicker though, stabbing her before she was able to grab it. She dropped to her knees as she held her stomach. In that moment, she looked weak and helpless. You couldn’t shake the thought that she had your dad feeling that way when she killed him.

“Baby, why would you do that?” she asked, her psychotic eyes pleading with yours.

You looked down at her, the fury in your eyes obvious as she tried to plead with you.

“How the fuck could you do this to me? To my fucking dad?!”

“Oh, please. You knew he was a shitty dad,” she scoffed, before whining again at the pain she was feeling. “I got him good, too. I just wish you could’ve seen it.”

“Shut the fuck up,” you screamed, as you stabbed her again.

 Richie ran back in the room with Tara and Sam, noticing Amber on the floor and the large, bloody knife in your hand. You started to run towards him, thinking you could finish all of this. You didn’t though, because as soon as you made it to Richie, he plunged his knife into your stomach several times.

“No!” Tara screamed, as you dropped to the floor, blood immediately pooling beside you on the floor. You heard Tara’s cries as your vision started to get fuzzy.

“You really thought you were going to do something with that, didn’t you?” Richie laughed, “I’m sure your mom will be here soon, and you’ll get to be with both of your parents after I’m finished with her. Now’s a good time to thank me.”

“Fuck you,” you said weakly, as you started to lose consciousness.

“Oh, look at all that blood,” was the last thing you heard before blacking out.

You woke up in the hospital several days later with your mom and Sidney sitting beside your bed. You groaned as your eyes tried to adjust to the fluorescent lighting.

“Hey,” your mom said, “They weren’t sure when you’d wake up.”

“Lights,” you choked out, your voice raw.

“Try not to talk a lot, okay?” Sidney said, as she got up to flip the switch. “You almost didn’t pull through. They had to intubate you for surgery.”

You laid there in silence for a few minutes, like your brain was trying to process everything that happened. The heart rate monitor started to beep faster as you thought about your dad and the rest of your friends. Your breathing got heavier, as you started to shake your tingling hands.

Your mom went out to grab a nurse, who rushed in to check on you.

“Let’s give you something to help you calm down,” she said, pulling out a syringe. She injected medication into your IV as you tried to take deep breaths in comparison to the shallow ones you kept sucking in.

“What’s going on?” your mom asked, as the nurse turned to look at her.

“She’s having a panic attack. It’s normal after trauma like what she went through,” she said, before turning to you, “Would you like some water?”

You nodded, as she stepped out of the room. She came back a few minutes later with your water and one of the doctors.

“We’re going to suggest lots of therapy,” the doctor said, as she looked over at your dazed expression from the meds. “Physical and mental. It’s going to be a long road, just be patient with her.”

“I’m going to take her back to New York with me. If you have any recommendations for doctors out there, I’d appreciate it,” Your mom said, as the doctor nodded.

“I’ll be right back.”

As you sipped the water, it started to soothe your dry, irritated throat. After the doctor walked back in with the list of doctors in New York, you tried to speak.

“Tara?” you got out, as your mom smiled.

“She’s okay. Sam is too.”

“Chad and Mindy?”

“They’re okay. Chad was a little touch and go at first, too. He’s in the next room over,” she said, as you started to smile.

You were devastated about your dad and Wes but knowing that most of your friends survived gave you an ounce of hope that everything would be okay.

Once you’d healed enough to leave the hospital, you had a tearful goodbye with everyone as you prepared to go to New York.

“I hope you were serious about Blackmore…we all kind of applied,” Tara said, as Mindy nodded.

“Seriously? That would be so cool,” you said, smiling. “I’d love to have you guys close by.”

Your mom stood by and watched as Sam walked up to talk to her.

“I know Tara will most likely get in, she’s a smart one,” Sam said, with a small laugh. “If you can think of any safe areas for us to live, let me know.”

“You’d be coming with her?” your mom asked, as Sam nodded.

“I’m never letting her out of my sight,” she sighed, “I’m so sorry for your loss, with Dewey. If it wasn’t for him, we probably wouldn’t have made it through the attack at the hospital.”

“Thank you…I’m just sad he won’t get to see all the great things I know she’s going to do with her life.”

After a few months of living in New York, you started to get adjusted. You had physical therapy three times a week and had to see your psychiatrist at least once a week, but you felt like you were starting to find yourself again, aside from struggling with anxiety and PTSD. Your mom’s boyfriend, Brooks, was even starting to piss you off a little less. You’d had several conversations with him about your dad, and he was trying to step up. He didn’t want to take your dad’s place by any means, but he was trying so hard to be a trusted male figure in your life, aside from Chad, who was still on the opposite side of the country.

On your eighteenth birthday, Tara FaceTimed you. You were smiling so big when you saw all of your friends, their own version of a surprise party making your heart swell. That’s the day they told you they all got into Blackmore, and you started to count down the days.

“Mom, don’t you think I should get the full college experience?” you sighed, as she rolled her eyes.

“You’re not staying in a dorm, and that’s final,” she said, as you glanced over to Brooks.

“I can’t help you with this one. You know your mom has her mind made up,” he said, as he leaned against the kitchen island.

“Whatever,” you huffed, walking towards your room.

Your mom and Brooks just looked at each other as she sighed in defeat.

“She might be annoyed with you right now, but she’ll get over it,” he said, wrapping his arm around her.

“I hope so, I’m getting sick of all the teen angst,” she said, laughing a little.

“How’s her therapy been?”

“She said it’s going well. They’ve really been unpacking the Amber stuff…I just hope she’s able to trust someone again someday.”

“She will.”

Once your friends made it to New York, your mom let you go out and explore the city for the first time without her. She was nervous, regularly checking her phone just to make sure you were okay. She knew your therapy sessions were helping, but you still had your panic attacks and your body wasn’t the strongest yet.

As you walked along the sidewalk with your friends, Chad noticed a comic book store a little further up the street.

“Can we check that out?” he asked, as you nodded.

“This is the same dorky shit you did in Woodsboro. Don’t you want to do something else?” Mindy asked, as her brother scoffed.

“Nope. I’ve already gone into three different clothing stores with you guys AND found my perfect foundation match while you guys were shopping for makeup. You owe me,” he said, making you and Tara laugh.

“Fine, let’s go,” Tara said, before turning to look at you. “Let me know whenever you need to sit down, okay?”

“I will. Let’s get food after this. I can rest while we eat,” you said, as Tara nodded.

When you walked inside, you all went your separate ways as you started to browse around the store. Chad was in heaven, while everyone else was just there to kill the time. As you were walking along one of the rows, you started to get one of your reoccurring abdominal cramps from where you were stabbed. You leaned over, holding your stomach as you tried to breathe through it.

“Hey, are you okay?” you heard a male voice speaking to you, as you groaned out a “I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine,” he said softly, as he squatted to talk to you. “Do you need something? Can I call someone for you?”

“I promise I’m okay. Just a bad cramp.”

You soon heard Tara mumble “Oh shit” as she and Mindy ran up to you.

“What happened?” Mindy asked, looking over to the boy.

“Oh, uh, I don’t know. I just saw her doubled over like this.”

The pain started to ease up, as you tried to stand back up.

“Fuck, that was a bad one,” you sighed, as your eyes connected to the person that was trying to help you.

“You sure you’re okay?” he asked, looking you over. You couldn’t form words after you saw him. He was your type, and his sweet, shy demeanor was just a plus. Mindy and Tara noticed you checking him out as he kept staring at you, a small smile on his lips. “I’m Ethan, by the way.”

“Hey,” you finally spoke, as Tara and Mindy inched away from you so you could talk to him. “Thanks for trying to help.”

“Don’t mention it,” he said, as he started to flip through some of the comic books. “Do you go to Blackmore?”

“I’m about to,” you said, as he turned to you and smiled.

“You’re a freshman, too?”

“Yeah. I’m a little nervous, but I have all my hometown friends with me, so I know it’ll be fun,” you said, as you started to point them out.

“Chad? That’s what my roommate’s name is,” he said, looking towards him. “Wait, that’s him!”

“Oh, small world,” you said, “Hey, Chad!”

He turned around, smiling when he noticed his new roommate standing there.

“Dude, I didn’t know you were into stuff like this!” Chad said, as he walked up.

“Yeah, I’m a little bit of a dork, I guess,” Ethan laughed, as they started to geek out over stuff they’d found.

“How do you two know each other?” Chad asked curiously, as Ethan smiled.

“I just met her. She seems cool,” he said, “Have you guys been friends for a long time?”

“Yeah, we’ve known each other since elementary school. We grew up in this crazy, fucked up little town,” Chad said, as your eyes got wide.

“It wasn’t that bad,” you said, trying to play it off as Chad looked at you in disbelief.

“Yeah, Woodsboro was a walk in the park,” Chad said sarcastically, as you tried to change the subject.

“Can we go get food soon? I’m starving,” you said, as Chad nodded.

“Sure. Ethan, you want to go to lunch with us?”

“I wish I could, but I have to run by the book store. Maybe some other time, but I’ll see you later,” he said to Chad, before smiling at you. “It was nice to meet you. Hopefully I’ll see you again soon.”

“I hope so,” you said, your tone flirty as Chad looked between the two of you.

Ethan walked up to the counter to pay for his stuff, as Chad turned to you.

“What was that all about?” he asked, as you jokingly glared at him.

“Why didn’t you tell me you had a hot roommate?!”

After that day, Chad made it his personal mission to get to know Ethan as well as he could, because he didn’t want you to go through another traumatic relationship. Once he realized that Ethan truly was this shy, dorky guy, he started to bring him around the friend group. The two of you immediately hit it off, and he loved to spend time with you.

Once the relationship started to get a little more serious, he began asking about Woodsboro. After that day at the comic book store, he did his research, but he still had so many questions. He knew you were hurt in some way, because of all the appointments you had, and the random sharp cramps you’d get from time to time. He noticed that you’d always try to push through pain, and he just wanted to have a better understanding of everything.

The last thing you wanted to do was think about what’d happened the year before, let alone talk about it. You had several insecurities about yourself, the scars all over your abdomen being one of the major ones. But you hated feeling weak. You hated that you were struggling to keep up with the high energy your friends and boyfriend had. You hated feeling like you just slowed everyone down.

Ethan didn’t care, though. He was always comforting and okay with taking breaks, or even cutting a date night short if you started to get anxious. He knew he loved you, but he was too shy to say it. He didn’t want to pour his heart out and you say it’s something you weren’t ready for yet.

Your mom was a little skeptical of Ethan. It wasn’t that he’d given her a reason to be, she just wanted you to always be cautious, especially after your last relationship. It got to the point where you’d have to sneak Ethan over whenever your mom and Brooks weren’t home.

“Hey, baby,” Ethan said, as you opened the front door.

“Hi,” you smiled, as he leaned in to kiss you. “Let’s go to my room.”

What was supposed to be the two of you just hanging out led to him on top of you on your bed, your hands in his hair as he kissed you. Your shirt was starting to inch up, his hand roaming over your stomach when you pushed him away.

“Stop,” you said, once you noticed him leaning back down to kiss you again.

“What did I do?” he asked, as you scooted away from him. “Baby, I don’t want to pressure you into talking about things you don’t want to, but you need to tell me what’s going on.”

“I don’t want you touching me like that,” you said, your eyes not meeting his as he tried to understand.

“You’re my girlfriend…this is what people in relationships do,” he sighed, running his hand through his hair. “If you’re not ready for sex, that’s fine. I just don’t get what the big deal is with me touching you. You never talk to me about it.”

“I think you should go,” you said, as he rolled his eyes.

“I don’t know if I can keep doing this,” he said, standing up. “You just keep shutting down whenever there’s something we need to talk about. You’re so secretive about what you’ve been through. I feel like I barely know anything about you.”

“Are you saying you want to break up?” you asked, your eyes watering as he shook his head.

“No, babe. I care about you so much…but you don’t trust me. I know something horrible happened to you in Woodsboro, and all I want is to be the supportive boyfriend that you deserve, but I can’t be that for you when you won’t talk to me. I’ve even tried to ask Chad, just so I understand, but he’ll only talk about what happened to him.”

“So, you’ve been trying to get stuff out of Chad because I won’t tell you about it?” you questioned, the pissed expression on your face making him tense up. “I’m not ready to talk to you!”

“Call me when you are,” he said, walking towards your bedroom door.

You felt a panic attack creeping up the second he walked out. You grabbed your anxiety medication and took a pill out, hoping that it would kick in soon. Your hands were shaky as you tried to take it, the water you were trying to drink spilling all over your shirt.

“Fuck,” you muttered, your breathing heavy as you jumped up to grab another shirt to change into.

The second you got the wet one off, Ethan walked back in the room.

“I forgot my phone,” he mumbled, before he saw you. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the scars all over your abdomen, feeling sick to his stomach that someone could ever do something like that to you. “Baby…”

“Get the fuck out!” you screamed, as he scrambled to grab his phone off your bedside table. “Now, Ethan! Go!”

You quickly pulled the dry shirt over your head, as he glanced back over to you once more. You were sobbing as he tried to step closer, wanting to comfort you.

“Don’t come near me, Ethan! Go!” you yelled again, as he hesitantly turned around and walked out.

You followed him to the front door, slamming it behind him. You put your back against the door before sliding down it, as you pulled your knees to your chest as you cried.

When your mom got home later in the day to take you to your psychiatrist, you didn’t feel like going. You were still upset from the situation with Ethan earlier in the day, so once she started to argue with you that you needed to go, it got explosive.

“What is wrong with you today? You’ve been making such good progress!” your mom yelled, as you started to pace the floor.

“What’s wrong with me?! I was almost killed, mom! I have these fucking scars all over me that remind me of what I went through every fucking day!” you screamed, as tears started to run down your cheeks. “I have a great boyfriend, someone who really cares about me, and I can’t fucking trust him because of what Amber did to me! Then, he saw my scars earlier and looked at me like I was a fucking victim and I’m sick of feeling that way!”

“Wait, how did he see your scars? What have you been doing when I’m not here?” she questioned, as you stopped your pacing.

“That’s what you took from all that I just said?!” You asked, as Brooks walked in. “I’m not having sex, if that’s what you’re thinking. I want to, though! I want to be able to trust Ethan enough to do that, but I’m too fucked up for that to happen!”

Your mom just looked at you as Brooks tried to calm you down.

“Hey, I know this is none of my business, and I’m sorry for putting my nose where it doesn’t belong…but have you talked to your therapist about Ethan?”

“Not really. He’s only come up a few times,” you sighed, wiping your tears. “I was hoping I could work through things with him on my own, but I still haven’t told him anything that happened. He’s trying so hard, too. He doesn’t deserve this.”

“That kid really cares about you. Maybe you should talk to your doctor about the best way to open up to him,” he said, as you nodded. “I don’t want you to feel like everyone that comes in your life is going to do what Amber did to you.”

Your mom smiled at the interaction, loving how close you were getting to him. His calm demeanor helped so much in diffusing your anxiety.

“Can we still make it to my appointment in time? Or is it too late?” you asked your mom, as she pulled out her phone to check the time.

“We can still make it, we need to leave right now, though.”

“You two get out of here, I’ll have dinner ready when you get back,” Brooks said, pulling you into a side hug as he walked you towards the door.

During your appointment, your doctor recommended that you take a week off from school, just to focus on your mental health. Your professors were very understanding, you just hoped your boyfriend would be, too. You needed to clear your head as you tried to think of the best way to unpack all the trauma with him. You decided to leave your phone off, only turning it on every now and then to let Tara know you were okay.

Ethan was freaking out. When all his calls went straight to voicemail, and you stopped coming to school, he started to think the worst. He knew that you were upset with him, and he felt awful that him seeing you without a shirt affected you as much as he did. Regardless of the scars, he still thought you were beautiful. He finally brought it up to the rest of the friend group and was relieved when Tara said that you were okay.

That’s when he thought about doing something sweet for you. He wanted you to feel better, and he desperately wanted you to forgive him. He went to the mall with Chad, wanting to find some of your favorite things to bring to you.

“What about this?” Chad said, as he walked with Ethan through the party store. Ethan wanted to find you the sweetest card to go with the things he’d bought you, but Chad had other ideas when he pointed to a huge balloon. Ethan rolled his eyes as he looked over to Chad. “What? I don’t think anything says ‘I love you’ like a massive balloon that literally says ‘I love you’.”

“Dude, I don’t want this to be cheesy. I want her to know how I feel without making her cringe,” Ethan said, “Do you think she’ll even answer the door when I try to take this stuff to her?”

“I can’t say for sure. She hasn’t spoken to me in a week.”

“At lease she talks to Tara, so we know she’s alright.”

Ethan was nervous as he walked into the elevator and selected the floor that your mom’s condo was on. He knew your mom and her boyfriend’s work schedule from the times you’d invited him over, so he knew you should be home alone, if you’d even open the door for him.

He stood outside the door and took a deep breath before knocking. After a few minutes of you not answering, he sat the stuff outside of the door, hoping you’d want to talk after you eventually saw it. He went back to the elevator and pressed the button, waiting for it to come back to the floor he was currently on.

Once the door opened, he saw you standing there.

“Ethan? What are you doing here?” you asked, as he stepped to the side for you to walk off the elevator.

“Oh, uh, I just dropped some stuff off for you. It’s in front of the door,” he said shyly, as you smiled at him.

“That’s really sweet, Ethan. I was actually going to call you and ask if you wanted to come over. I just left therapy, and I’m in a good head space right now. I think I’m ready to talk,” you said, reaching over to grab his hand. “It’s a little heavy, and I might not go too far into detail, but I want you to know some of what I went through.”

“I’m here to listen,” he smiled, rubbing his thumb against the top of your hand as you walked towards the door.

“Aww, this is so cute!” you squealed, looking down at the basket before you unlocked the door. You were about to bend down to grab it before he beat you to it. “Thanks, babe.”

You walked with him to your room, noticing the card. You grabbed it out of the basket as soon as he sat it down, but he took it from you before you could open it.

“Hey!” you laughed, trying to take it back from him.

“This card has some things in it that are important, but not as important as you telling me what you need to tell me,” he said, smiling as he sat it back in the basket. “You can read this after we talk, deal?”

“Deal,” you said, flopping back on your bed as he laid down beside you.

You both stared at the ceiling as he waited for you to start talking, but you didn’t know where you wanted to start. You were almost scared of what he’d think after you told him everything, but you knew in your heart that he’d still care about you regardless.

“So…I know I told you about my dad dying. He was killed last year when my ex and the guy she was cheating on me with went on a killing spree,” you said, as he sat up on his elbows to look at you as you spoke. “She killed my dad after she stabbed me. Her boyfriend really did the most damage to me though. I’ve been really self-conscious about all the scars I have. That’s why I stop you whenever things start to get a little handsy.”

He stayed silent for a minute, just soaking in all the information you’d told him. He was furious that anyone would ever hurt you, but he was hiding it well.

“It’s no wonder you’ve been a little hesitant to trust me,” he sighed, looking back at the ceiling. “I’m sorry I walked in on you. I really thought you were done with me after you yelled at me like that and didn’t want to talk to me.”

“It wasn’t that I didn’t want to talk to you, I just wanted to get my feelings and my thoughts together. I knew I needed to open up to you, especially after you saw everything.”

“I just wanted to understand, you know? You’ve just been so vague about everything. I’m happy you’re opening up,” he said, laying back down. “I’m sorry if you ever felt pressure about the sex stuff, too. I promise you that’s not what I was trying to do, and I’d wait forever if I needed to.”

“I don’t think we need to wait forever,” you said, rolling over to your side to look at him. “I’m ready now, actually.”

He curiously looked at you, before he started to shake his head.

“Baby, I want you to fully trust me before we do anything like that.”

“I just gave you the short version of everything that caused my trauma. I trust you,” you said, leaning in to kiss him.

He kissed you back, the sweetness of it making your heart swell, like you knew he was the person you were meant to lose your virginity to. Once the kiss got more intense and your hand started to run under his shirt, he gently pushed your hand away.

“Wait, I need you to read the card,” he said, before you connected your lips to his again.

“Right now?” you asked, pulling away.

“Please. You’ll want to read it before we do this.”

You slid off the side of the bed and walked over to the basket and grabbed the card. Ethan wasn’t nervous at all as you sat down beside him and opened the envelope that contained his true feelings for you. He knew if you were ready for sex and felt comfortable enough to finally tell him about what you’d went through, that you probably felt the same way he did.

“This is really sweet,” you said, reading through everything he wrote. “Wait…”

You turned to look at him after you’d made it to the end of what he wrote, as he smiled at you.

“I love you, babe.”

“Seriously?” was all you said, your eyes starting to water as Ethan suddenly felt like maybe it was a little too soon for him to say it when you didn’t say it back.

“Yeah, it’s how I feel. If you aren’t ready for that-“

You cut him off my kissing him. “I love you, too,” you mumbled against his lips.

He pushed you back on the bed as he smiled down at you.

“You are sure, like one hundred percent sure you want to do this?” he asked, as his hand started to rub your thigh over your jeans.

“I’m positive. I want to do this with you.”

He leaned down to kiss you as his hands just kept rubbing against you. You didn’t feel self-conscious like you had before, and you were excited to share this experience with someone that loved you.

“Is it okay if I take your shirt off of you?” he asked, waiting for you to consent before he did it. The last thing he wanted was to make you uncomfortable.

You paused and took a deep breath. “Yes.”

The second your shirt was over your head, you noticed Ethan’s gaze on all your scars. You tried to cover them with your hands before he pulled them away.

“Stop, baby. You’re beautiful,” he said, running his hands across them.

He leaned down to start kissing your neck, his curls tickling you as you started to giggle.

“Am I absolutely awful at this or something?” he asked, as your fingers started to run through his hair.

“No babe, you’re tickling me, but it feels good,” you said, squirming a little underneath him once he found your sweet spot. “It really feels good.” He smirked against you as you started to let out heavy breaths. “I think your shirt should come off, too.”

He pulled away to take his shirt off before he leaned down to kiss you again. Your hands started to run along his back as he melted into your touch.

You leaned up a little as you felt his hands try to snake around you to unhook your bra. He fumbled with it for a minute, making you laugh into the kiss.

“I’ve never done this before,” he said, jokingly glaring at you as you smiled at him. He finally got it unhooked, sliding the straps down your arms as he pulled it off you. “Are you going to laugh at me the whole time?”

“No, babe,” you said, biting your bottom lip to hold in your giggles. You didn’t have to for long though, your mouth falling open as you gasped when he took one of your nipples into your mouth. He alternated between licking and sucking, before he moved to the other side. “That feels so good.”

He pulled away and smiled at you, “If you want to stop at any point, let me know. I’m not going to get mad, I just want you to be okay.”

“Thank you, baby. I know you won’t hurt me,” you smiled, reaching up to run your hand through his hair as his eyes fluttered at the feeling.

He leaned down again with your fingers still tangled in his hair, as he started to place kisses along your stomach. He paid extra attention to your scars, now knowing the dark story of how you got them. You looked down at him as he started to unbutton your jeans.

“I love you, baby.” He said, as he started to pull them down your hips. “Your body is so beautiful. Please don’t ever think that it’s not, okay?”

“Okay,” you sighed, as his hands started to run up your bare thighs.

“Can these come off?” he asked, rubbing your panties along your hips.

“Yes,” you said, as he smiled at you.

“You know I have no idea what I’m doing, so please let me know if anything I do hurts.”

“Ethan,” you sighed, as his eyes connected with yours. “Just do what you think feels right, and I’ll let you know how it feels.”

“Okay, baby,” he said, as his hand ran up your inner thigh, and over your pussy. You whimpered at the feeling, as he kept rubbing you. “Can I taste you, babe?”

“Please,” you said, as he leaned in. His tongue gently licked your clit, as your hand started to run through your hair. “That feels…fuck.”

His mouth started to move faster when your moans got a little louder, loving all the sounds he was pulling from you. His cock was straining against his jeans, but that was the last thing he wanted to focus on. He just wanted to keep making you feel good.

“Can you use your fingers, too?” you asked, your chest heaving as his finger started to brush against your entrance. You gasped when he slid it inside of you, pumping it in and out.

He pulled his mouth away to watch you, “Fuck, you’re so wet.”

You whimpered at his words as his fingers started to curve a little. “Oh shit,” you whined, as he slowed his fingers.

“You okay?” he asked, trying to ready your face, scared that he’d hurt you.

“That felt good, keep doing that,” you said, gasping as his finger moved quicker. “You can use two.”

He added another finger and moved them against that spot as he leaned down to focus on your clit with his mouth.

“Fuck, a little faster, baby,” you moaned, feeling that coil in the pit of your stomach getting tighter.

He did as you said, before he switched from licking your clit to sucking on it.

“Oh fuck,” you whimpered, your legs starting to jolt. He gasped as your pussy started to contract around his fingers. He didn’t want to stop his actions too quickly, so he just kept going until you started to pull away. You were letting out shaky breaths as he sat up to look at you, the blissful expression on your face making him smile.

“Did that feel good?” he asked, as you smiled and nodded with your eyes closed.

“That was perfect, babe.”

He curled up on the bed beside you, caressing everywhere he could reach as he waited for you to tell him it was okay to go further. He noticed the gasp that slipped past your lips when his hand ran over one of your breasts, so he started to massage it.

“Baby, I’m not trying to rush you, but my mom will be home soon,” you said, smiling at him. “I really don’t want this to get interrupted.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” he said, sliding off the side of the bed to take his jeans off. You giggled at him as he smiled at you. “Sorry, I’ve been hard for so long.”

“It’s okay, babe. I love that you’re so excited,” you said, as he nodded.

“Yeah, I’m excited to experience this with the person that means the world to me,” he said, as he grabbed a condom out of his wallet before he slid his boxers down. He was mumbling something to you, but you couldn’t focus as you stared at him, starting to get a little anxious. “Did you hear what I said?” he asked, as you shook your head. “I was just reminding you that if it’s too much, let me know.”

As he stood in front of you, you started to question if it would be too much. He opened the condom and rolled it on before he crawled back on the bed to hover over you.

“Can you go slow?” you asked, as he lined up with your entrance.

“Of course, baby. As slow as you want,” he assured you, as he started to push himself inside of you. He noticed you wincing at the pain, and even tensing up a little. He stilled, looking over your face. “Try to relax, baby.”

He didn’t move, he just waited for you to give him the okay. He leaned down to kiss you, as the pain started to ease.

“Keep going,” you said, as he slid in a little further. You tensed up again, so he just kept kissing you. He wanted you to know that this wasn’t just about him enjoying the experience. He wanted to take care of you. It was starting to get to the point where the pressure of him stretching you started to feel really good. “Can you move?” you mumbled against his lips.

“Uh, I’m almost all the way in…are you sure you’re okay?” he asked, as your lust-filled eyes looked into his.

“It’s not really hurting anymore,” you said, as he started to smile. He slid the rest of himself inside of you, a soft moan slipping past your lips. His hips slowly started to move as he looked down at you. He was internally screaming but was trying to play it as cool as you were. “Can you go a little faster?”

“Yes,” he said, but it really came out as a whimper as he started to move a little faster. You were just so warm and tight. It was better than he ever thought it would be. “You feel so fucking good.”

“So do you,” you moaned, as the tip of his cock started to hit the spongy spot inside you. “Fuck, Ethan,” you whimpered, as your hand reached down to rub circles on your clit.

“I love you so much, baby,” he whined out, as he started to go even faster. He didn’t know if it was going to be too much for you to handle, but the way you started to moan helped ease the anxiety he had about it.

“I love you, too,” you whimpered, feeling your second orgasm creeping up.

He started to get even more confident, angling your legs so he was able to go a little deeper. Your hands held on to his biceps as he looked down at you. He was trying so hard not cum, but the expressions on your face and the sounds you were making made it a lot harder for him.

“I’m gonna cum,” you whimpered, as he sighed in relief, knowing he didn’t have to hold back much longer. He groaned out the second your walls started to tighten around him, your hands shaking as the grip you had on his arms got tighter. He got you though it, speeding up a little as he chased his own orgasm.

His thrusts started to falter as his mouth fell open and his eyes began to flutter. You watched him though your post-orgasm haze, smiling as he opened his eyes to look at you. His chest was heaving, a goofy smile on his lips.

“That was a million times better than my hand,” he joked, making you laugh.

“It better be,” you said playfully, as you heard the front door open. “Shit.”

You and Ethan both jumped off your bed, your legs wobbly as you tried to find your clothes. You slid your panties back on as Ethan got his boxers and jeans back on. The second you got your shirt over your head, your bedroom door opened.

“Hey, there’s some people out here to see you,” your mom said, looking down at her phone as she walked into your room.

“Uh, mom,” you said, as she looked up at you.

“What the fuck is going on here?” she asked, noticing you without pants, Ethan shirtless, and the condom wrapper on your bedside table.

“Can we talk about this in a minute?” you asked, desperate for her to leave the room so you could finish getting dressed.

She huffed as she walked out, slamming the door behind her. Once you got your jeans back on, you heard your mom yell “I’ll kill him,” as Ethan looked over to you, terrified. You giggled as he slid his shirt over his head.

“It’s okay, babe. Hopefully Brooks will back me up,” you joked, as the both of you walked towards the door.

Your mom walking in was embarrassing enough, but when you walked out to see all the friends you hadn’t seen for a week sitting on the couch curiously looking at you and Ethan, your cheeks started to turn red.

“Oh, uh, hey guys. What are you doing here?” you asked, as Mindy pointed to the take-out bags on the kitchen island.

“Yeah, we wanted to surprise you and bring you food,” Chad said, before directing hit attention to Ethan. “I tried to text you a few times to invite you to come with us, but I understand why you didn’t respond.”

Ethan awkwardly laughed, before he noticed your mom glaring at him from the kitchen.

“Babe,” Brooks said, walking up beside her. “It’s okay.”

“You think me coming home to see my daughter and her boyfriend trying to put their clothes back on is okay?”

Mindy was trying to hold in her laughter, Chad was, too.

“Can’t we all just be happy that I trust Ethan, and finally told him everything?” you said, trying to play it off as a joke as your mom rolled her eyes.

“That’s a good point,” Brooks said, “That’s something she wasn’t able to do before.”

“Are you just going to back her up on everything?” your mom sighed, looking up at him.

“I just want you to see the positives,” he said, before gesturing over to Ethan. “He’s a good kid. He cares about her.”

 “I really do,” Ethan said, finally speaking up.

“See? I know you’re still going to worry about her, but let her be happy,” Brooks said, as your mom started to walk over to you.

“You are going on birth control. And you,” she said, turning to Ethan, “If you hurt my daughter, I’ll kill you.”

“I won’t hurt her,” Ethan said, as she stared him down.

“You better not. Let’s eat before the food get’s cold.”

[magics-neptunes-things]

We are Infinity

Hi guys!

I had several asks for a new Luna one, I feel like I’m writing a lot for them those days but I think we all need some fluffy stuff after Mariona’s departure 😔 I’m still mourning.

TW : pure fluff honestly

It was hard for Lucy to let Ona go to the Spanish camp, where she knows that the staff and the head coach won’t really take care of her girlfriend. She got hurt on her face and near her eyes and to get better soon it would have been better for her to rest at home.

But it wasn’t on the Spanish’ plans, so Ona had to take her plane with Alexia, Mariona and the other player from the Barca to go to camp. Lucy specifically asked Alexia to have a close look at Ona, the younger girl being a little too reckless at her taste sometimes. Lucy’s request activated Alexia’s protectiveness and Ona couldn’t make a meter without having her captain near her, slapping her hand away from her face, asking her to hydrate herself or checking several times a day her wound.

It was pretty cute to be honest and Alexia doesn’t stop, even if Ona walked on her feet almost three times before she gets called by the medical team to have a closer look of her injury. Alexia was there too, listening to the discussion and even giving her opinion.

Ona wasn’t really happy to go back home, to be honest. She loves camp and Leila, who she liked very much and doesn’t see a lot, was called too. She was happy to be able to play with her again, but it would be for another time.

They gave her only two hours to get her things together before leaving and she even run into Jana at the airport, who were coming at her place.  Ona was excited for her friend too; she knows how much Jana would be happy to be here.

While she was waiting for her plane, she finally calls her girlfriend, who is herself in England for the camp. Lucy doesn’t know for now that she was leaving.

“Hola Bonita” Lucy says happily, making Ona smile.

“Hello beautiful” Ona answers back.

She can hear noises in the background, and she wonders what Lucy is doing. She sometimes forgets that there is one hour less in England. It’s not a lot, but it’s sometimes very much too.

“I’m sorry, am I disturbing you?” the Spaniard says.

“We are at diner but it’s alright. Is everything’s fine?”

To be honest, Ona thought about making a little joke to Lucy about here face going suddenly not good as a revenge for asking Alexia to look after her. She then changed her mind, but she haven’t thought that Lucy would be the one asking if there is a problem.

“Yeah, I mean… You know, how you asked me to be careful with my wound?”

“Mhm?”

Lucy’s tone was perfectly neutral, but Ona knows better. She can draw with precision the face of her girlfriend right now. Lips pinched, eyebrows raised and waiting for the end of the sentence while knowing that she will not like what will follow.

“Well, they decided to send me home” she finally say, not wanting to play with her girlfriend nerves.

“Oh, thanks God” Lucy sighs.

Ona hears someone piping in the background and she frowns slightly, trying to hear who it was. Lucy answers to the girl but her voice is almost muted, like if she putted the phone against her chest or something.

“It’s Ona, she’s going home.” She hears from afar before that Lucy’s voice is clear again. “I’m so glad Onita, it’s really a great thing.”

“I don’t know, I’ll be all alone in Barcelona.”

“What do you mean? You will be with your parents, your brother, Mapi and Bruna, the dogs…”

“Well, they are not you.”

“I will be back before you know, I promise.”

Ona can hear Lucy’s smile in her voice and if she’s not able to hear what is said next to Lucy, she easily can catch the teasing tone with which we are talking to her girlfriend.

“Who is talking to you?” Ona asks when she hear Lucy answer a « fuck off ».

“Maya. She’s so annoying.”

There are protestations and Lucy is laughing, making Ona smile. She misses her girlfriend laugh so much and they are separated since only two days.

“Oooh I miss her! Say hello to her for me”

Ona knows Maya very well; she played with her at Manchester United for three seasons before coming back to Barcelona. They were both playing on the last line on the pitch, being a lot next to each other during the games.

“I miss you too Ona!”

The Spaniard chuckle when she hears her friend’s voice, probably stuck against Lucy. She then hears Lucy groan something and asking Ona to wait for several seconds before she’s talking again. Without any noises or voices behind her this time.

Even with Lucy reassurances, Ona hated her time at Barcelona without her. Sure she went to her brother’s house, she went for a lot of walk with their dogs, she ate lunch almost everyday at her parent’s house and she saw Mapi, Pina and Patri sometimes too. Not Bruna because she went to the camp after she left.

But the time is long without Lucy.

Even longer now that she knows how much her girlfriend is struggling with her knee. It’s not a surprise to be honest, their schedules are insane. Even if she hates being at home when her team is playing important games, she’s happy to have several days to rest correctly. This is something Lucy would have needed too.

And worse, Sarina made Lucy played the two games, every single minute. Saying that Ona is mad is very far from the truth. She’s fuming while looking at her girlfriend playing with her extra bandage on her knee.

Lucy complained about her knee several times on the phone during their calls and Ona knows how much Lucy is in pain to talk about it like that.

“Just ask to go home” Ona said during one of their FaceTime.

“I can’t, Ona. There isn’t anyone to replace me if I left. The team would be into deep shit.”

She knows Lucy is right, but having seen her girlfriend so upset after the first game and their lost crushed Ona’s heart. She almost jumped in a plane to England, but Lucy begs her not to do it. Ona wasn’t really happy about that, wanting to take care of her girlfriend if the England squad doesn’t seem to be able to do it.

Ona is jumping and stressing so much during the last game that her brother put several shots of tequila in her hands to try to relax her. It kind of worked, even if she’s a little bit tipsy when she FaceTime Lucy latter that night.

“Ona are you drunk?” Lucy asks after hearing her girlfriend giggling about everything during several minutes.

“Nooooo, not at all my Love, why?”

“You are” Lucy laughs. “What have you done; you burden?”

“Nothing” Ona giggles again. “It was Joan, he forced me.”

“He sure did” Lucy says, rolling her eyes, before asking with a softened voice “You are at home, right?”

“I am. At home and safe” Ona smiles too “I can’t wait for you to come home though. I really miss you.”

“Tomorrow you’ll have me in all for yourself again. It won’t be long now.”

“I can’t wait”

Ona rolls on her side to get under the cover of their bed. The dogs are sleeping on Lucy’s place in the bed, but Ona didn’t say it to Lucy. Dogs aren’t allowed in their bed usually.

“How is your knee?” Ona asks with a suddenly sleepy voice, the alcohol starting to kick in.

“The ice was very welcome, to be honest.”

She shows her knee wrapped in ice and Ona frowns. She hates seeing her girlfriend in pain and even more if she’s not with her to help her to get better.

“This is so bullshit, honestly.”

“I know” Lucy shrugs.

What can she say more? She knows her girlfriend’s opinion and she know too that if things were reversed, she would have the same. But she doesn’t want to pick a fight now, she would rather look at Ona falling asleep.

“Sleep well Bonita” Lucy whispers when she spots Ona’s heavy eyes.

The younger girl only answers with a vague groan before falling asleep for good. Lucy smiles and for the first time since they started talking, she doesn’t hang up. She cute the sound on her side not to wake her girl up, but she falls asleep a half-hour later looking at dead-asleep Ona.

Ona is more excited than ever. Lucy was only several minutes from her now, Ona can follow her on the app on her smartphone. Of course, her girlfriend told her when she left Paris and when she was in Barcelona’s airport, but being able to follow her like this help her to be patient. Or to be even more excited, maybe.

“Mommy is coming home Narla!” Ona sings, making the dog waltz in the living room.

Narla barks and Ona really think that the dog understands what she was saying. Laughing softly when she tries to lick her face, Ona put her softly on the ground, to hug a jealous Coco. She kisses her head several times but stops when she hears a car stopping at the bottom of their building. She just has to take a look by the balcony to see her girlfriend collecting her suitcases before going in the building.

Ona is almost running when she goes to the door and Lucy just has the time to open it before being struck by a brunette storm. Lucy laughs when Ona jumps on her arms, securely passing hers around her girlfriend’s waist.

She lets Ona hiding her face in her neck, allowing herself to do the same in her hair, breathing with pleasure the comfort that her smell offers her. She smiles when the younger one start to kiss her cheek and then every part of her face she’s able to reach.

“Hi” Ona says happily when she retracks her head to have a better look at Lucy.

“Hi” Lucy laughs in return.

She puts slowly Ona down, kissing her lovingly on her lips this time. She doesn’t remember who and when they close the door, but it doesn’t really matter. After the kiss, Lucy grabs very softly Ona’s chin between her fingers to tilted it a bit and have a good look at Ona’s injury. Rolling her eyes but still smiling, Ona lets her do, waiting patiently while Lucy is looking at it.

“It’s look better, sì?” Ona asks after several seconds.

“It does” Lucy approves softly.

She then takes Ona in her arms again to hug her, enjoying Ona’s heath against her. The Spaniard sighs of well-being and closes her eyes to enjoy the moment.

“I missed you so much” Lucy mumbles against Ona’s hair.

“I missed you too” Ona smiles, raising her eyes to look at her.

The sweet moment is interrupted by Narla, who seems to think that all of this is very cute but she waited enough for her humans to have their reunion and that it’s now her turn. The small dog nudge Lucy’s knee with her nose, making both girls laugh.

“You know I missed you too!”

Lucy manages to take Narla in one of her hands without letting Ona go. But it was before Coco came too, barking with what could be vexation.

“Oy and you too of course! I’ll never forget my boy. Sorry, Bonita” Lucy grins at Ona when she needs to let her go.

Too happy to have her girl back to even imitate a pout, Ona let Lucy with their dogs, taking her suitcases directly to the bathroom to start the laundry. She smiles hearing Lucy’s talking to the dogs, even if she can’t really understand all she was saying. They both are barking happily, and Ona doesn’t hear when Lucy asks “Alright, where’s Mama now?”.

She’s soon spotted though, Lucy’s hugging her from behind only ten seconds after that.

“Fuck the laundry, Babe. I need to catch all the hugs and kisses I missed” Lucy mumbles against Ona’s neck.

“Mh I don’t know if you deserved it, you choose the dogs after me just two minutes ago” Ona jokes before turning in her arms.

“You know very well that I’ll make it up to you”

Lucy has a smirk and a playful face, who make Ona smile wider. She knows that they will be separated again during the Olympics – if Ona is selected of course – but those separations aren’t easy anyway. Ona feels like it got even harder every time. She just too used to have Lucy next to her in her daily life.

Lucy drags her on the couch, and they put something on TV that none of them is really watching, too busy to hug, talk, look and kiss each other. Maybe not in that order.

“I’m hungry and I probably should go take a shower” Lucy yawns when the sky is almost dark.

“Go shower and I take care of the food” Ona decides before getting up from the couch.

She was already turning her mind upside down to know what to cook to Lucy, when the girl takes her by the arm and make her sit on her lap. She stoles a rather hard kiss to the younger one before letting her go.

“Now we can go” she smirks, getting up to even left the room before Ona.

Ona stays still in the kitchen for several minutes after deciding that it was better to command something for tonight. They are both tired and the fridge is empty, they really need to go grocery shopping tomorrow. When she’s alone, she’s usually feeding herself with fruits, avocado toast and Iberic ham, much to Lucy desperation.

Lucy finds Ona sitting on the table in the kitchen when she’s showered, smiling at her with her phone in her hand.

“What?” Lucy asks.

“Nothing. You’re here, walking with your two knees. I’m just happy.”

How can someone be so cute, adorable and dramatically hot at the same time? Lucy asks herself for the hundred times since she met Ona.

“Happiness looks good on you.”

With two steps, Lucy is in front of Ona, passing her arms around the smallest girl. She just can’t help herself, with time she even sometimes forgot that they are supposed to be private about their relationship in public. So, in private, she just can’t keep her hands away from Ona. The Spaniard being touchy, she never complained about it.

“You can congrats yourself, you are the reason of my happiness.”

“Look at you, who is the sweet talker now?”

Ona laughs, it was one joke during the first days of their relationship. Lucy liked to hit on Ona with the most random sentences ever. It wasn’t in attempt to flirt really, she just wanted to hear Ona’s laugh every single second. She had other things to flirt with Ona and make her fall for her. She never had to try hard to be honest.

“But I see no food cooking. Were you planning to give yourself to me for diner?”

“You wish” Ona laughs when Lucy wiggles her eyebrows. “I ordered to the Thai restaurant across the street. It will be here in like ten minutes.”

“Perfect.”

She made Ona squeak when she takes her suddenly in her arms to go to the couch again and dropping her on it before wrapping herself around Ona.

“We have time for more hugs until they come” she decides.

“We have” Ona confirms, smiling softly.

Looking at the ceiling, she starts to stroke Lucy’s back under her shirt. She can feel her muscles contract under her soft skin, and she just have to take a look at Lucy’s face to realize that she’s half-asleep. Lucy must feel her girlfriend’s gaze on her though, because she mumbles

“’m not asleep”

“Sure, Beautiful” Ona laughs slightly.

She smiles again when Coco jumps on the couch to install himself next to them and raise her head a little bit when she hears noises that she can’t really identify.

“Oh. Looks like Narla wants to show you her new rocks” Ona informs Lucy when she sees the dog starting to align to rocks in front of the couch.

If Coco groans before heading back to sleep, Lucy groans and sit down, rubbing her eyes. But she can’t be mad at her dog who have a strange thing for rocks when she looks at her with so much happiness, wiggle her tail with excitation. And she just has to look at Ona’s smile to feel her heart melt. She’s the happier girl in the world. She would never complain about anything.

[basicbunnyboo]

Bird Behaviors

An Adam x Reader Ramble

A.N. - Hello hello, my dears. I got bored in my chemistry class so here’s some brain rot because I love looking into how a character’s animal nature can affect their daily life and I might go into a full psychological rant about a few later but anywizzle-

Cw - Pushy coworker (doesn’t go into detail) / pissy Adam

Just Adam Being Part Bird (Not Really)

Wing Flapping (Whenever he finds something stupid hilarious that he wants to share, his wings usually flap behind him.)

“Hey, hot stuff!”

You sighed, looking up from your phone to look at whatever he wanted to show you now. It was usually a random rock or something shiny.

“Look, look, look,” he walked up next to you, his wings shifting behind him, “it’s a dick, right?”

You gave him a look.

He rolled his eyes, “Yeah, whatever, but it is, isn’t it?” He shoved the rock in your face as you looked it over. It looked more like a heart, but knowing him, he wouldn’t agree.

“Yeah, I guess so.”

His wings flapped behind him as he grinned wider, “Right? Fucking called it. Lute said it looked like Missouri. I knew you’d agree, babe.”

You smiled at his childish antics, “Yup.”

Preening (Despite what you might think, he takes good care of himself. He’s the face of his band after all.)

“Adam, I got the-“ you paused at the sight. Adam was bent in a strange way, his wings fully unfurled, as he tried to reach a spot by the base of his wings, “Fucking ass why are you so damn-“

He paused, then fell, cursing.

“Fucking hell, gimme a damn warning, bitch,” he huffed. He sat down on the couch, arms crossed with his wings half groomed.

You laughed, “Yeah, yeah,” you stood behind him, “sit up.”

“I don’t need your fucking help.”

“Up, Adam.”

With some more grumbling, he obliged.

Beak Clicking (Adam has this weird habit he does every time someone tries to flirt with you.)

“C’mon, just one? I promise to pay and everything,” they pleaded. Your coworker had been asking for a date this past week. You repeatedly told them no, but they didn’t seem to get the hint.

You, of course, told Adam. Something you were regretting now that you saw him standing menacingly behind them.

He kissed his teeth, “So, you’re the one who’s been annoying ‘em, huh?”

They turned around, not expecting Adam to be there, “Oh, uh, hey, A-”

“Don’t ‘hey, Adam’ me, bitch,” he looked them over, “What the Hell do you think you’re doing? They said no, so leave.”

“I, uh, yeah, okay.”

Fluffing (He gets cold easily. And he makes it very well known)

“I don’t wanna,” he whined.

“Look,” you put on a jacket, “it’s not even 60 degrees. You’ll be fine.

“Nuh uh,” his wings formed a very fluffy cocoon around him, “I’ll freeze!”

You pinched your nose, “Adam, I need to leave.”

“But I don’t want you leaving me.”

“Then come on!”

“It’s cold,” he pouted.

You have to admit, seeing his cute stupid little face surrounded by his wings made you want to just stay and cuddle.

He knew that, of course, “C’mon. I’m cold, you’re warm, just cuddle me, bitch.”

You raised a brow, making him pause.

“Uh, please?” He gave you that damned look.

You sighed, already taking off your jacket, “I hate you.”

He had a smug grin, “Love you, too, hot stuff.”

[desertduality]

Scar & Grian (platonic) movie night for a writing prompt ^^

Okay this one I can actually classify as a snippet ajksdkj it's just under 500 words. I hope you like it!! :D

----------

“I brought blankets!”

Scar’s triumphant call is the only warning Grian gets before the world goes dark, several pounds of fluffy knitted wool landing directly on his head. Grian grunts and sputters as fibers stick to his tongue, flailing his limbs in an attempt to remove himself from the impromptu bindings. He surfaces with a gasp, blankets falling into a pile behind him, hair staticky and sticking up at odd angles. He whips his head around to glare at Scar, standing behind him doubled over in breathless laughter. 

“Just for that,” Grian says, turning back to fiddle with the projector. “I get to choose the movie.”

Scar’s laughter cuts off comically fast, and Grian has to bite his cheek to suppress his own giggling, giddy excitement bursting behind his ribcage. It’s way too fun to rile Scar up. 

“What, no!” Scar cries, and Grian doesn’t even have to look to know he’s doing his best begging eyes. “You said you’d watch Star Wars with me! You pinky promised, Grian!”

“One of those blankets was weighted, Scar. You could have killed me,” Grian says, turning around, and— Yep, there were the eyes. He steadfastly ignored them. “Or worse, you could have broken the projector.”

“Fine,” Scar replies, sitting down crosslegged with a huff, leaning back against the couch and starting to remove his leg braces. “Movie night is sacred. I won’t throw things on movie night.”

“Any other time is fair game,” Grian agrees, nodding, grabbing the remote and scooting backwards until he’s next to Scar. “Alright, which one was it that you wanted to watch?”

“We should marathon,” Scar suggests brightly, producing a bag of popcorn out of thin air and loudly opening it. “We can start with the first one. Not the prequels, the actual first movie.”

“Just a heads up, I will be falling asleep,” Grian warns, clicking onto the first movie and tugging blankets over them both. “And that is not an invitation to draw on my face.”

“Make it through the first movie, at least, and I’ll spare you,” Scar jokes, flinging a piece of popcorn at him with a cheeky grin. “If you don’t, I do have a sharpie with me. Be warned.”

“I can’t believe you plan for this stuff,” Grian complains, rolling his eyes with a quiet laugh. “I’ll try, Scar. Happy?”

“Do or do not,” Scar says imperiously, eyes flashing with gleeful mischief. “There is no try.”

“You are insufferable.”

“I love you, too!”

Grian shoves Scar lightly on the shoulder, both of them with amused grins on their face, and popcorn bounces out of the bag onto their laps. Just a typical movie night, really.  Leaning back into the couch cushions, Grian points the remote and presses play. The bold yellow text starts scrolling down the screen, music blaring from the speakers, and Scar cheers. Grian sighs, longsuffering and fond, and sets the remote down on the ground.

(He wakes up in the morning with poorly drawn cat whiskers on his face, looks down at Scar snoring on the floor next to him, and happily returns the favor.)

[moni-logues]

Investment

Pairing: Yoongi x reader (Kintsugi couple!)

Genre: slice of life, fluff, established relationship

Word count: 2.9k

Summary: Yoongi's tired of his job and terrified of making a change.

Content: no warnings! Just fluffy stuff

A/N: firstly, 'gardening leave' is what happens when, rather than working your notice period, the company pays you NOT to work. Secondly, AHHHH Kintsugi couple is back again. This is truly a drop in the ocean of what I've thought about for them lmao but as someone asked the other day about their future, here is a small glimpse into it!

*

You heard the door open and close and then Yoongi was immediately curling himself up in your lap.

“You’re late today, baby.”

“I know,” he mumbled, speaking into the fluff of your jumper. “I hate my job.”

You kissed the top of his head. This was not the first time he’d said that. Not even close. He had been saying it more and more frequently over the past few months and you weren’t quite sure what to do about it.

“I made dinner; do you want me to get you some?”

He shook his head again and you stroked his hair as you wondered what might help. A cat climbed up into his lap and you thought that might work but Yoongi barely noticed her.

“I could run you a bath? Do you want a bath?”

There was a second’s hesitation and then he nodded and sighed.

“That sounds nice.”

“Ok, I’ll run you a bath.”

And you moved, to get up, to go and start the task at hand but Yoongi gripped you tighter, a quiet noise of protest leaving his mouth.

“You know I have to get up if you want that bath.”

“Five more minutes.”

So you sat for five more minutes: you stroking Yoongi’s hair, he stroking the cat, and then he did, as promised, let you get up.

*

“Ok, bath is ready.”

You had done your best: the nicest bubble bath, candles, quiet classical music on in the background (because studies have shown it helps to reduce stress). Yoongi stripped and stepped into the hot water with a hiss; it was probably too hot, but you knew that was how he liked it. As hot as hell. Even hotter.

He sank into the water with a groan and you kissed his forehead before turning to leave. Your exit was stopped by your hand in his, which he would not drop. You turned to him.

“You come here,” he said, pointing to the bath.

“Me, too?”

He nodded, so you stripped as he had only a minute earlier and tentatively, slowly, and carefully lowered yourself into hell’s hot spring. You grimaced but eventually were able to settle, leaning back against Yoongi’s chest, tucking your face into his neck. He kissed your shoulder, once, and then again, and then made his way to your neck and your cheek.

“Would you still love me if I quit my job?”

“Yes,” you answered instantly.

“What if I had no job?”

“I’d still love you.”

“What if I were poor?”

“Still then, too.”

“What if I never got another job ever again?”

“I can support us.”

Yoongi snorted, softly and not unkindly.

“Not here.”

“No,” you conceded. “Not here, but I make more than I did before I moved in and I was supporting myself pretty decently. We could live ok together on just my salary. We’d eat.”

Yoongi’s arms grew tighter around you and he nuzzled his nose into your hair.

“I love you,” he murmured into it.

“I love you, too, baby.”

“I’d never make you do that, you know.”

“I know. But I could. I would.”

He kissed your cheek.

“Do you want to quit your job?” you asked after a few moments’ silence.

Yoongi let the question hang and you didn’t push the issue. You knew he’d been struggling recently. That work wasn’t what it used to be. That he got no satisfaction from it. You saw him lie in bed and stare at the ceiling every morning before he absolutely had to get up. You saw him crawl home at night – never early, never on time, always late – and fall asleep on the sofa. You noticed how much less frequently he was doing the things he liked to. You noticed he wasn’t eating so much. You worried about it, but you didn’t know how to help. Because you felt sure that what he needed was to quit and you weren’t sure if he could.

That job had been his lifeline. His everything. It had been his way out. It had made him. He didn’t know what to do without it. Didn’t know how he would survive – except that, of course, he did know. He knew he would be fine. More than fine. He was smart and sensible and had a financial advisor who was worth every one of the many, many pennies he cost. If he were really smart about it, he probably could never work again.

But he still didn’t know how he would quit his job. His whole life he had dreamt of it. His whole life worked towards it. He was good at it. Great, even. He was well-respected. He was successful. He didn’t know what he would do if he failed. He didn’t know if quitting was failure. He saw his teenage self, his lost, lonely 18-year-old self arriving in Seoul for the first time with nothing but a rucksack and a heart full of terror and he saw that self curse at him for even considering handing in his notice.

It made him feel ungrateful. It made him feel arrogant. It made him look at his colleagues with something closer to contempt than it had ever been. Made him look at himself that way, too.

His therapist, Joan, the one he liked, the Australian in her mid-fifties who had studied abroad in Korea, met a man, and then lived here ever since, had asked him to talk to you about it. About quitting. Because you were part of his fear, too. What would you think if he quit? What if he couldn’t get another job? What if he lost all his money? Would you still respect him for being a quitter? Would you still want him if he couldn’t provide? How would you ever be able to marry and have children with him if he couldn’t support you?

He squeezed you tighter and kissed you, reminding himself that you were there. Reminding himself of the person you were. Because he knew you wouldn’t leave. He knew you would love him. He really did know it, but there was doubt deep in his heart that wouldn’t leave him.

You had let Yoongi lead the conversation on his job because you didn’t want to say the wrong thing. It felt too big, too significant to dare risk putting your foot in it. But then, you usually did just that; you would usually say anything, everything, to Yoongi. This felt like an exception because it went so far back into his past and so far down into the depths of his soul.

Maybe that actually made it all the more important that you dragged it to light.

“Ok,” you said, sitting up a little and twisting to look at him. “What would you do if you quit?”

He shrugged.

“Would it make you feel more confident about quitting if you had a plan?”

Yoongi shrugged again. Because he did have a plan. Or not so much a plan, but an idea. Something he’d thought about, been thinking about. Something he might want to do. Something that scared the shit out of him. He was still thinking, though; he didn’t know if he was ready to tell you.

“Well, if you want to try to make a plan, you know I’m here. And if you don’t want a plan, that’s ok, too. I want whatever you want, remember?”

You leant forward and kissed him lightly, twice, and then a third time because you just couldn’t help yourself.

“I’m on your side, baby,” you whispered, lips still close to his. “I’m always on your side.”

*

You lay next to Yoongi, later that night, bath water cooled, bodies dried, bed-ready. You were thinking about the day Yoongi might quit his job—what you could do for him, what he might want, how he might feel. He interrupted your thoughts.

“I might want to be a counsellor.”

You waited a second to absorb it, to bring your mind back around. It seemed obvious, now he had said it. Of course. Of course, that was what he would be. What he would do. How perfect for him.

“A counsellor? I think you’d be an amazing counsellor.”

“You do?”

You pushed yourself up so you could look at him, even though you could barely see a thing in the darkness. You used your hand to guide you, resting it against his cheek, fingers gently brushing hair from his brow.

“Yeah, I do. I think that’s a great idea.”

He hummed and you felt him nod.

“How would you do it? How do you qualify for that?”

There was the rub. That was the other reason he hadn’t wanted to say it. Because it would take years. He could do an accelerated course, so he’d qualify in two rather than four, but he didn’t know how long after that it would take him to make money, to be stable, secure.

The thing was that he wanted to marry you. Had been thinking about it. Had been trying to not want to quit his job so that he could just do it, ask you already. He wanted to marry you and stay happily in his job for the rest of his life so he could provide for you and however many kids you might or might not have; he wanted to ensure that they would be safe and secure, that you would be safe and secure. He could do that if he stayed in his job. He didn’t know if he could do it if he didn’t. And he didn’t want to propose to you under false pretences; didn’t want to propose while he earnt good money and then quit, then earn next to nothing, trap you into life with him when he didn’t know what he could give you.

That was why he hadn’t quit yet. That was the excuse he was giving himself. That was what Joan had really wanted Yoongi to talk to you about. Because when she had asked how you would feel if you knew these were Yoongi’s concerns, he answered. He knew the answers already. Joan thought hearing them from the horse’s mouth might help. She was probably right.

But he still didn’t want to ask you because he was scared of asking. Scared of raising the topic of marriage in case you didn’t want it.

That was why he couldn’t quit his job.

“It would take a couple of years,” he answered eventually. “I’d have to go back to university. To qualify. Not sure how long it would take after that to get established, to make good money.”

“You don’t have to make good money. I told you: I can support us.”

“And I told you I would never make you do that.”

There was an edge to his voice, an anger you knew wasn’t really directed at you. You let this one slide because you knew that even talking about quitting his job, doing something else, was hard enough for him.

“I have passive income,” he continued, voice softer, “and savings. It won’t be on you.”

“I don’t want you to use your savings, though.”

“That’s what they’re for.”

“You shouldn’t use them up if you don’t have to. I said I’m on your side and that means we’re a team, ok? Be a team with me. Let me help. I let you help me by not paying rent here, don’t I? Let me help you not use your savings.”

Because that was how you got through to him. You reminded him that you were in this together, that this was supposed to be about giving and taking, not just him giving and giving and giving. You wanted to give, too, and Yoongi liked giving you what you wanted.

“Well it’s not like it’s happening anyway,” he said. “Doesn’t matter.”

“It does matter. I really think you should do this. It sounds so good. It would be so exciting.”

Your eyes had adjusted to the darkness enough to make out the features of his face, allowing you to dip your head and kiss him.

“I know you hate your job, baby, and I want you to be happy. You deserve it. You deserve the opportunity to find out if there’s something else out there you can do. I think you can do it. And I’m always, always going to be here for you, no matter what happens. Promise.”

*

It didn’t come up again for a while and you didn’t raise it, leaving the ball in Yoongi’s court. Besides, he had seemed lighter since your conversation—like even discussing the possibility of something else was enough to lighten the load a little. You did your own research, looking at schools and trying to find out what he’d need and when, but you weren’t sure how much research he’d done, whether he knew what course he wanted to apply for, whether he’d applied for it already.

You decided to give him another couple of weeks. There would still be time after that for the application deadlines you’d seen (if they were even the right ones). It would give him a little more time to bring it up again. And if he didn’t, you would.

*

You leant heavily on the door handle as you opened it, tired from work, hungry, so, so ready for the weekend: a weekend in which you would lie down a lot and do little else, you hoped. You kicked your shoes off and two cats came skittering towards you. Then human feet appeared behind them and you looked up in shock.

“Baby!”

You leapt into Yoongi’s arms with a little too much force and he staggered back, laughing, holding you tight. He span you around in the air just once and you tottered on your feet when he placed you back down.

“You’re here! You’re- you’re early!”

He grinned and nodded.

“Yes and I’m making dinner.”

You kissed him hungrily, fingers tightly wound in his hair.

It had been so long since Yoongi had beaten you home from work that you couldn’t even remember the last time. Even longer still had it been since you’d seen Yoongi this happy on a work day.

You both walked to the kitchen and Yoongi poured you some wine. You hopped up on a bar stool and refused to let him go back to cooking; you wrapped your legs and arms around him and kissed him, relieved and excited and so damn happy to have him there, then, at that moment.

There was a twinkle in his eye when he pulled back from you and it sent a spark down your spine, woke the butterflies in your stomach.

“I quit my job.”

You gasped, your mouth open wide.

“No way!”

He nodded. You squealed with laughter, pulling him close, holding him tight, then letting him go to pepper kisses all over his face.

“You quit!”

He looked happy about it, sparkling, glowing, radiant even. He grinned at you until it faltered, a second of doubt passing over his face like a cloud.

“I should have told you,” he said, brow creasing. “We should have discussed it-“

You knew, though you couldn’t see them under his hair, that the tips of his ears were going red. You kissed him, cut him off mid-word.

“I like surprises,” you told him. “And I’m so happy for you.”

You brought your lips to his again, hoping to kiss him for long enough for his doubt to fade and pure joy to return.

“Does this mean you’ll be home on time now?”

He nodded.

“I’m enforcing working hours,” he told you, “not working whatever hours they ask.”

“Can you do that?”

“What are they going to do, fire me? I already quit. And if they want to put me on gardening leave, even better.”

He shrugged with a cavalier smirk.

He may have looked confident, but Yoongi’s heart was hammering in his chest, had been all day. He wondered when it would give out from the stress. He’d blocked out his entire morning for an ‘urgent, top priority’ problem: he sat in his office for three hours trying to get it together so he could go to his boss and hand in his notice. He hadn’t told anyone he was going to do it. He couldn’t take the pressure of anyone else knowing, though now, in hindsight, he wished he had told you (even if you did love surprises and even if he did love the glee on your face when he’d told you). Somehow, even after all this time, he was still not used to the fact that he didn’t have to do everything on his own. That he shouldn’t be doing things on his own. That he preferred doing them with you.

He closed his eyes and pressed his forehead to yours, his heart now hammering and fit to burst, pressing against his ribs as if it could break them. He was terrified. There was a pit of anxiety in his gut that felt endless, that made him unsure if he would be able to eat the dinner he was halfway through cooking. But he had you. In his life, in his heart, in his hands, on a stool in the kitchen of the apartment where you both lived. You knew he could do it. He wouldn’t let you be wrong.

[apollosfavkiddo]

hi, I’m not great at requesting things but if this makes sense could you write a high school au where Jason is a football player. I think it would be cute cause he’s definitely tall enough and strong enough but then add in him being kind and wow he would make the BEST high school football player boyfriend. Thank you

⛧° Jason Grace x Nerdy! Reader hcs °⛧

content: jason grace x reader, college au!

warnings: cursing, allusions to sexual stuff (not much tho), stupidtly fluffy and corny.

a/n: bby if i tell you i dreamt about this, would you believe me? like, i swear to all the gods, i dreamt with this and woke up thinking about writing it… well, here ya go. oh, and i also made her a brazilian, i hope you don’t mind? if you do, just ignore it, please 🫡

⛧° 。 ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆༺♱༻⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ 。°⛧

Of course, he’s a great football player.

Like, i know no shit about football, i’m a soccer girly, but he’s the best quarterback in the city. like, he’s really really good.

And obviously everyone believes he’s such an asshole and a womanizer.

But in reality he’s so so nice

Sure, he sleeps with some girls and all, but not as much as his teammates.

He’s also the only jock that sticks with a girlfriend. Not for long, but still more than the other guys ig

So when he was having trouble with maths, he needed a tutor, cause he had to have a back up plan of he didn’t went for the pros

Such a nice boy, fr.

And he went talk with the teacher to ask who could teach him.

And that’s when he found you.

You weren’t exactly a super nerd. You just liked to study.

But you had a lot of friends, since being the only exchange student did bring this sort of popularity around the university.

And when he first came to you, you were kinda bitchy.

You know, you had a bit of hatred towards football players. No idea why, it was just there.

Even with that, you were too kind-hearted to don’t tutor him.

And when you got to know each other… you kinda started liking him.

On your first study session, the library was too full, so you went to the outside

Which was really working out, till Jason found a little bird that probably fell from his nest

The guy was so worried that he almost took the bird home

He would’ve done it if you didn’t stop him

But he found the nest and put the little bird back there

And you just stood there, like “what the fuck? isn’t he supposed to be a douche?”

It happens that he’s not.

And you became pretty good friends with the frequent study sessions and all.

Not to mention he was pretty offended when you told him you didn’t like football.

And you were very offended when he asked if the spoke Spanish in Brazil.

He knew it didn’t, he just did it to piss you off.

He really wanted you to go to one of his games, but you never said you were really going.

So, one day, when his team was having a match against Briar University, he was more than surprised to see you at the stands, right in the front.

With his jersey. With his number and name on your back.

He honestly felt he was gonna cry right then and there.

He got so happy he made a touchdown. They won.

And you were there, cheering for him and pretending like you understand anything that was going on there.

When the game ended, he came rushing towards you.

“Congrats, Gra-“ Before you could even finish your sentence, he kissed you.

Oh, and it was heaven.

After this, you started dating and it was the best thing you ever experienced.

He was such a gentleman.

Doors? Don’t even touch that. Dates? He’s paying, duh. You’re tired? He’ll carry you, bridal style.

You get the point.

You started liking football because of him. And he started liking soccer because of you.

a/n: i don’t know what to feel about this lol. idk what you’ll think of the brazilian thing, but if you don’t like it, i’ll remake it, promise!

[ramblingoak]

Hello! I apologize if you don’t take requests btw but if you do , do you think you can write head cannons of what the papas would do for their s/o with Covid when you can? <3(I totally didn’t js find out that I had Covid 😀) again super sorry if u don’t take requests!🖤

Hey! I hope you are feeling much much better. Apologies this took a bit to finish. I ended up getting Covid last week myself so clearly karma got me for taking too long xD. This did end up being more for readers that are just kind of sick in general but I hope you still enjoy the little drabble I did for each Papa 💙

Warnings: short and sweet, pretty fluffy and fairly silly, there are some suggestive comments but these are mostly sfw, readers are all gender neutral, not beta read so pls ignore any mistakes

Mayo Rub ~ Primo x GN!Reader

“Are you going to be grumpy about this the whole time I’m sick?”  Primo scoffed and continued to aggressively turn the pages in his gardening magazine.  “Well?”

“You are mistaken, I’m not grumpy about anything.”

“Then why are you pouting over pictures of tulips?”

“They’re not tuli–”  Primo stopped abruptly, roughly closing his magazine and getting up from the couch.  When he glanced over your way you raised an eyebrow at him.  “They’re lilies.”

“Fine, lilies.”  You took a moment to cough into your elbow, knowing that he was now frowning because it had been getting progressively worse as the day had worn on.  “But you admit that you’re pouting.”

“Why must you be so difficult?”  When you couldn’t answer right away due to another coughing fit he wandered over to the bed, wringing his hands with worry.  “Fogliolina, I’m only trying to help.”

He was ready with your bottle of water when you were able to look up, meeting his concerned gaze sheepishly.  With a shrug you took the bottle from him, taking a deep drink to try and soothe your throat before attempting to answer.

“The store bought stuff is working fine.”  You ignored his muttered ‘clearly’ and pressed on,  “Look I just don’t buy into the…you know.”  Primo raised his eyebrow as you wiggled the fingers of one hand in his direction.  “Plant magic.”

“It’s not magic, my little leaf.”  The unspoken ‘idiota’ hung between you but you decided to be gracious and ignore it.  “They are natural remedies that have been used for hundreds, no, thousands of years!”

“Fine.  If I let you work some of your plant magic will you stop pouting?”

“It’s not–”  He took a deep breath, blowing it slowly out through his nose before continuing.  “SÍ, I will stop pouting.”

“Alright then, have at it.”  Primo gave you a pleased smile before leaning in to press a quick kiss to your forehead.  He was frowning when he pulled away, bringing his hand up to press against the warm skin his lips just touched.  When he muttered something under his breath in Italian and turned away you grabbed at the sleeve of his sweater and tugged him back.  “Fogliolina?”

“Just promise not to rub mayonnaise or whatever on my chest.”

“Che cazzo?  Why wou–nevermind.”  

You had to bite your lip to stop from laughing at the impressively annoyed look on his face.  He took a deep breath before shooting you a look that usually either predicated a lecture or him demanding you remove your clothes.  Unfortunately you knew that right now it meant the former.  You decided to go easy on the man that was about to work his…whatever on you.

“I love you Primo.”

“As you should.”  The both of you shared a smile before he clapped his hands together and turned back to head out the bedroom door.  “Sit tight fogliolina, I’ll be back with the mayonnaise in just a few moments.”

Your laughter quickly brought on another coughing fit but you waved him away when he looked back at you.  

“Go!  Get your potions old man, I’ll still be here.”

“I’m going to make sure of it, my little leaf, don’t you worry.”

Secret Ingredient ~ Secondo x GN!Reader

“Is it salt?”

You hid your face in the neck of the sweater you had borrowed.  The fabric was soft and warm, with the bonus of smelling like the man it belonged to.  Secondo let out an aggrieved sigh from where he was standing over the stove before turning around with an eyebrow raised.

“Salt?  Really?” 

“Fancy salt?”

“SÌ, the secret ingredient of the chicken noodle soup recipe passed down through my mother’s family for generations is fancy salt.”  He gave you a little smile when he caught you pouting.  “Would you like a taste, dolcezza?”

“Yes, please.” 

Secondo got a spoonful and blew on it as he walked over to the kitchen table.  He held it to your lips with great care, watching the expression on your face change as you tasted it.  When you gave him a pleased smile he leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“You feel a little warm again, would you like to lay down?”

“No, no I’m fine.  I want to stay out here with you.”  That earned you another kiss before he turned and went back to the stove.  You licked the taste of the soup off your lips before taking another guess.  “Rosemary?”

“That’s not much of a secret, dolcezza.”

“Parsley?”

“Parsley is a necessity, certainly not l’ingrediente segreto.”  

“Ok fine, how about Primo’s parsley?”

Secondo chuckled, shaking his head as he pulled two bowls from a cupboard and started to fill them with the soup he’d labored over almost all afternoon.  You had been stuck between desperately wanting him close because you felt bad but also not wanting him to get sick.  When you’d tried to explain this he had gone on about some nonsense of the Emeritus line having strong constitutions and rarely becoming ill.  Whatever.  You’d remember his speech the next time he was whining over a cold.

“All of the ingredients are from Primo’s gardens, as you know.”  

He set your bowl down in front of you before taking a seat himself.  You let yourself get distracted for a bit looking at his exposed forearms.  It was one of the reasons you enjoyed watching him cook.  He’d roll up his sleeves and you’d get to daydream about his arms while he worked.  Your eyes finally looked up from staring at the dark hair covering his skin to find him smirking at you.  

“Get over yourself.”  He knocked his foot against yours under the table and you flashed him a smile before bringing a spoonful to your lips.  Like most everything he made it tasted amazing.  You let out a delighted little hum before taking another guess.  “Basil?”

“Again, not a secret.”

You frowned down at your bowl as you tried to think of what was so damn secret about his soup.  He had even refused to tell Copia earlier when he’d come by asking for the recipe.  It had to be something extremely uncommon for him to be so weird about it.  But he always got a little weird when he was making you something special, especially if it was an old recipe of his mother’s.  Secondo always took such great care when he recreated them, like he was pouring his love for his mother into them as he worked…oh.  You reached across the table and laid a hand on his arm, squeezing it gently when he looked at you.

“I love you too, Secondo.”

“What?”

“What do you mean ‘what’?”  When he didn’t elaborate you pulled your hand away and crossed your arms over your chest.  “The secret ingredient.  It’s love.”

“Love isn’t an ingredient.”

“Yes it is.”

“No dolcezza, it isn’t.”

“I bet your mother would agree with me.”

Secondo snorted, rolling his eyes as he moved his chair closer to yours.  It was close enough he could wrap an arm around your shoulders and tuck you close to his side.  After placing a few kisses into your hair he pulled away and cupped your cheek.

“I have no doubt that if my mother was still here you and her would run circles around me.”

“Just admit it.  I promise I won’t tell anyone.”  When he didn’t say anything you grinned, his silence was all the confirmation you needed.  “It’s love.”

“It’s paprika.”

Satan Magic ~ Terzo x GN!Reader

“You shouldn’t be here.”

Terzo groaned, muttering under his breath as he pulled you closer to his chest.

“This is my church I can be wherever I want.”

“Oh your church, huh?”  You dug an elbow into his gut, grinning when he swore in Italian.  “Besides, you know what I mean.”

“SÌ, sÌ.  I know.”  He shoved a leg in between yours and rubbed his cold foot along your skin, holding you tighter when you tried to wiggle away.  “Ai!  Quit it, I'm trying to help.”

“How are your freakishly cold feet supposed to help me?”

“You have to warm them up first.”

“Satan’s dick, Terzo.”  A fit of coughing came over you then and you tried to ignore how nice it was to have Terzo’s hand rubbing your back as your body shook.  It took you a moment to catch your breath and you sniffled as you shamelessly pressed back against his warm chest.  “I don’t want you to get sick.”

“How many times must I say this?  I don’t get sick.”  

“I seem to remember a few days last year that you were definitely sick and whining in this bed just like me.”

“Those were allergies and completely different.”

“Whatever you say Papa.”

His chest vibrated against your back when he groaned.

“Don’t talk like that right now, it’s not fair.”  You giggled as you pushed back against him, trying to get as close as possible.  He was so warm, it was exactly what you needed right now.  Terzo tightened his arms around your waist for a moment before pressing his lips against your ear.  “Would you like to hear a secret?”

“Always.”  

“It’s because I’m a Papa that I don’t get sick.”

You frowned, turning your head to the side to look at him as best you could.

“What?”

“My family line has been blessed by Lucifer himself.  It is not often that an Emeritus falls ill.”

“But he’ll let you suffer through allerg–hey!”  

He got another elbow in the gut after he pinched your hip and you both wrestled a bit under the blankets.  Terzo managed to turn you so that your chests were pressed together and you took advantage of the new position to tuck your face into his neck.  Your nose was severely stuffed up but you could still smell his cologne and it was so good you let your body go limp in his arms.

“Don’t worry about me, eh?  I want to be close to you, to take care of you.”

“Alright, fine.  I just hope your Satan magic protects you from this.”

Terzo snorted and started to card his fingers through your hair.  It didn’t take long before the soothing movement helped you begin to drift off.  You felt his lips against your temple and you smiled, opening your eyes to meet his gaze.

It was unfortunate that it was the exact moment he sneezed into your face.

Stolen Soup ~ Copia x GN!Reader

Copia always got a little anxious when you were sick. 

It was part hating that you felt bad at all and also part him not wanting to catch what you had.  He hated getting sick and was always the worst patient.  In contrast you generally preferred to be left alone.  All you wanted to do was sleep and unfortunately you just found yourself getting irritated when Copia kept bugging you. 

“Copia I’m fine!  I just want to sleep.”  Oh here we go, the pout.  You groaned, rolling your eyes as you fell back onto the pillows.  “You’ve got better things to do anyway.”

“The only thing I need to do right now is take care of you.”  He had that stubborn look on his face, the one he gave Imperator when it was time to ask for a bigger costume budget.  “Amore, please?  Let me make sure you’re going to be alright.  Would you do this for your Papa?”

You could never win in a battle against that dopey look on his face so you just huffed and nodded your head.  His dazzling smile would be worth listening to him gloat later when he claimed it was only through his care you survived at all.  Copia began to hum to himself as he grabbed the big tote bag he came in with, quickly pulling things out and setting them at the foot of the bed. 

“What’s all this?”

“Ah, well I stopped by Primo’s for some salve to rub on your chest,”  You snorted when he wiggled his eyebrows at you.  “He also gave me some tea that will help your throat.  Secondo had some of his homemade soup in his fridge so I brought that as well.”

“Does Secondo know you took his soup?”  

“I left a note, he’ll get over it.”  

There was definitely no way Secondo would get over it but you decided to let it go.  When Copia started pulling some books out you sat up again and reached out for one. 

“I don’t think I have the energy to read right now.”  You ran your fingers over the worn cover of the book, flipping it open and seeing a short passage written in Italian on the first page.  “What does this say?”

“It’s a note to Terzo.”  Copia walked around the bed and gently took the book from you.  “From his mother.”

“Oh, Copia, maybe you should take it back.  I don't want anything to happen to it.”

“No no, this is what the book is for.  Sick days.”  He gave you a warm smile, leaning forward and kissing your forehead.  He was frowning when he pulled away, muttering something about taking your temperature.  “Terzo’s mother read this to him when he was a child and then Terzo used to read this to me.”

“So now it’s my turn?”

He looked over at you with a fond smile, his hands full of remedies and stolen soup. 

“Si amore, now it’s your turn.”

My Masterlist

My Archive of Our Own

Thank you to @gothdaddyissues for the dividers and @foxybouquet with the Italian help 💙

[cjrights]

Ight then here we go. And dw I promise I’m not feral like aloras anons. (Btw I made this while eating Mac n cheese at like 10:30 at night).

This could be really bad so read at your own risk (I’ve never written x reader)

Paige Bueckers x Softball! Player reader! (Hcs)

Content: mentions of an injury/description of one happening, Overall just fluffy stuff.

This is my first time ever writing something like this (pls don’t make fun of me 😭 I’ll cry and probably never log back in)

Starting off with a little about yourself:

-You’ve played softball for quite a while (obviously your good if you’ve gotten to UConn) around 14 years

-You’re a catcher- and a damned good one at that. You catch for just about anyone if needed and play quite a bit.

-One thing your most renowned for are your speed and base running abilities. Very few times is someone better or faster than you on base.

-however you are on the smaller side, barely 5’4 (you give yourself an extra inch though). Many players thought your height would impede your abilities and that you were too small to be a catcher.

-but your basically the ballsiest player in the league and hate losing so you don’t go down without a fight.

Ok now that we know about you let’s get into Paige.

1. Prior to the season she likes helping you clean your bag and gear out.

“Babeeee look what I have.”

You look up briefly confused, only to burst into giggles at the sight of Paige in your catchers gear. It obviously didn’t fit- not surprising with you at 5’5 and her at 6’. The white shinguards barely reached 3/4s down her legs and the chest guard left half of her exposed.

“Paige, why are you trying on my gear?” You ask over your shoulder, turning back into your bag to grab your batting gloves and helmet out.

“I gotta make sure my girls safe!” She protested, desperately trying to put on the to small helmet. “Can’t have you getting hurt! And why’s this helmet so small?!”

“Probably cause you’ve got a big head.”

“Who wouldn’t have a big head dating someone as sexy and skilled as you,” she smirks, lightly kissing your neck as your crouched over the bat bag.

“Well I suppose I am quite skilled and sexy…” you agree lifting your head so she can kiss more easily.

“And all mine.”

“And all yours.” You agree happily. “And yours alone. Now back to work bucko!” You state lightly patting her on the chest and nudging her off kisses. “No time for that now.”

Paige resumes trying to put on the helmet, still struggling immensely, as you go through the pockets of your bag. You snicker at her troubles with the helmet, before grabbing it and sticking it on your own head. “I’ll be fine.”

“But what if-“ fine then Paige, you thought. Guess I’ve got no other choice…

She’s abruptly cut off by you smacking your helmeted head into a wall lightly then staring at her, entirely unmoved by the feel of it. The noise of it had been stronger than whatever pain it had caused. She stands there shocked for a moment, staring at you gobsmacked before reluculantly starting to take off the gear.

“Ok fine. You’re safe in this I suppose.”

You turned away from the blonde and resumed your sorting, now satisfied.

“Erm babe? could you help me out? I think I’m stuck.”

2. Her trying to carry your bag and failing miserably.

“Why the hell do you have a body bag?!” Had been her first reaction to it, which admittedly may have been justified.

But you couldn’t help it! All catchers needed a bag this big…even if it was almost your size. But with cleats, bats, gloves, your gear and everything else you needed a bag like this was a must. Even if it was probably twice your body weight.

You just shrugged and said catchers always had big bags, then started dragging it off to the UConn fields.

Now you were getting ready to board the bus for an away game in Ohio and you’d just unpacked the car. Azzi had came along to see you off alongside of Paige. You went to grab your bag, only to have Paige abruptly get in the way.

“Allow me m’lady,” she mimics, grabbing the bag handle before you can stop her.

“Baby, I love you, but you know damn well you’ll drop that.” It was true, she’d tried multiple times, and crushed multiple toes.

“No! I’m big and strong and perfectly capable of lifting my girlfriend’s bag!” She huffs and chuffs determinedly, as she drags it towards the bus, carefully lifting it up into the open back door.

Your teammates give her half weirded out-half amused look, not quite sure if they should intervene or let her learn the hard way.

Even Azzi rolls her eyes and sighs, “should we stop her before she tears another ACL?”

You sigh, Paige was one stubborn motherfucker, as much as you loved her. “Maybe that’s how she’ll finally learn not to lift a catchers bag without help.”

After a long time, filled with much painful wheezing and a red faced girlfriend she manages to get it on the bus. “See…” she wheezes, “I can so lift your bag!”

You laugh and walk over to her, stretching up on your tiptoes to kiss her lips, which she eagerly accepts gently cradling the back of your head.

“My hero,” you tease, resting your forehead against hers, relishing in the warmth of her ice blue gaze.

3. She sees you get trucked defending the plate for the first time and almost has a heart attack.

It started off as a simple play and should’ve remained simple. Then you blew it and missed the block on a wild pitch. The runner on third saw her opportunity and took it.

Thankfully you’d been quicker on your feet than the pitcher and grabbed the ball guarding the plate from the incoming runner. Normally a base runner would get tagged out on a run, or try to veer away at the last moment.

But not the Alabama girl. Nope, she’d already known you were on the smaller side- and that you never backed down. So she did the only sensible thing.

She lowered her shoulder and smashed into you at a full sprint. To your credit you got the tag and kept on your feet, just staggering slightly from the impact. What you weren’t expecting for the lights to go out a few seconds after she collided.

You didn’t remember what happened after that, next thing you knew, three coaches, the athletic trainer, and about nine concerned teammates had formed a protective barrier around you, as if they were animals guarding a hurt cub.

According to your pitcher, the Bama girls helmet had smacked with yours and with the combined effort from the rest of her body, knocked you out. Thankfully it was only for a half minute or so, and nothing was that badly hurt.

you were fine apart from having the wind knocked out of you and a thorough bit of bruising on your shoulders, chest, hips, and neck. The whole incident hadn’t even phased you that badly and after a quick test run, you were cleared to resume catching and hit a double the next inning, directly over the Bama players head, as though to say it would take more then that to bring you down.

Turns out the one more affected was your blonde girlfriend who was sitting in the bleachers

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

“What the fuck was that!” The blonde all but screamed at the top of her lungs, unaware of the looks fans from both sides were giving her.

A dad who was sitting next to her gave her a look before chuckling. “That’s called trucking the catcher. Don’t worry though, she’s a tough little thing, she’ll get back up fine in a few seconds.

Paige shot him a look before glaring at the back of the Bama girls helmet, about ready to go out and beat her up herself.

“It’s called downright bad sportsmanship and dangerous! I mean she could’ve been hurt!” Her anxiety fueled the anger she was feeling, especially after seeing you wobble before your body passed out. Had it not been so crowded she would’ve been on the field herself.

The dad glanced over at her. “Seems like you care quite a bit about this catcher.”

“M’course I do. She’s my girlfriend, my baby, and it’s my job to protect her.”

He nods in understanding, glad the blonde was a bit calmer. “Don’t worry about it, she’s tough as nails. Look she’s already up again.”

She looked down and true to his word you were standing on slightly wobbly legs and doing an experimental squat to see how badly the girl had damaged you.

A breathe she didn’t know she’d been holding escaped, “thank god…” she whispered, not taking her eyes off you.

Now with you alright and her new softball dad friend she could watch the game (albeit she still growled under her breathe when the Bama girl came out). She was ready to spoil you rotten by the end of the game.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

“Baby, I appreciate the gesture but you don’t need to worry this much…that happens quite a lot.”

“Nope! My baby deserves all the spoiling tonight.” She stated walking in with a freshly microwaved heating pad, full bottle of water, ibuprofen, and some chocolate. “Now come on movie time.”

You couldn’t resist smiling as she climbed into bed beside you, gently draping you over her lap.

“I’m getting thrown out for starting a fist fight the next time you play Bama.” Paige mutteres suddenly.

“Paige Madison! You will not!”

“Yes I will, that stupid shortstop deserves it!”

You roll your eyes, your girlfriend was sweet, but overprotective like a damned pitbull.

“No Paigey, no fighting.”

“Fine….”

You end up dozing off before her, but not before feeling her planting gentle “feel better kisses” over every one of your bruises. And that’s why you fall asleep smiling.

Enjoy! (Also I have many more of these if wanted)

-🦦

hi this is SO cute???? i love????

you did this so well im gagged asf

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