#first things first i'm not gonna bother fixing the way my previous replies look after the update

[precicus]

planning on getting back to writing with a few new muse ideas :-D

[jamestrmtx]

Fairytale Complex - [Undertale | Sans x Reader]

[Gender Neutral, Frisk's Parent Reader | Slow Burn]

Chapter Ten | Dating Fight! (Part 2 of 2)

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With yesterday's uniform already washed and dried along with you wearing your spare set to avoid wearing the same one today, you're ready to go off to work the second you're out of Toriel's home. No detour to yours is needed, though you stop to say your thanks and farewells, and instruct Frisk on how they should behave while you're gone. "Wait for me, alright?" you say, smiling at them. "I have to work overtime today, but I'll be right back before nine." You place a hand on their head and play with their hair before pressing a quick kiss to their cheek.

"Does this mean Toriel's going to be my new babysitter from now on?" they sign, a hopeful light in their eyes.

"...Yes." You relent, not wanting to be late. "For the time being, at least."

Even with that addition by the end, their joy doesn't fade away, something they show through a grin and a wave. "Take care, (mom/dad)!"

You wave back at them, left with a lingering warmth in your chest at the sound of their voice again, so loud and free despite who they're with and how many people they're around. The only chances you'd gotten to hear their voice be so confident and strong were when Jerry used to visit, whenever they wanted to say they loved you, and -- most recently -- whenever they were left under Toriel's care, though you soon dismiss those thoughts to focus more on making it to work. You check the time on your phone to see there's still around three hours left: one for running errands, half to grab a quick bite to eat, one to make it on-time to work, and the other half left to meet up with your boss and excuse yourself over yesterday's missed meeting. 

When you see Undyne's legs emerging from under your minivan, you subtract the hour for running errands, only expecting the worst scenario from how much rain had fallen yesterday. 

"Is something wrong?" you ask, clutching your ring and toying with it for support.

The fish woman slides out from under it, arms and hands smudged with oil and dirt. She doesn't seem to mind though, and grins up at you instead. "The battery and some other stuff got damaged in the rain, but it's nothing my girlfriend and I can't fix!" You offer a hand out to the woman, though she declines and stands up on her own, commenting about not dirtying your outfit now that you were going off to work. "We've got a motorcycle in the garage, so if you know how to ride one, then feel free to use it." She looks over to the minivan as a hint of smugness slips on her face. "If you don't, Sans can give you a ride." She jabs your waist with her cleanest elbow, what you assume is a wink directed at you, albeit difficult to tell with only one eye. "How about it, (L/N)?"

Don't look at a gift horse in the mouth. 

That's the only thought you can come up with as she offers you a solution. The jab she'd given you confirms your suspicions as to what she believed was going on between you and Sans; regardless, you don't say anything about that and nod. Best to go with the flow of things for now, tardiness unwanted. "Well… Thank you, miss," you speak up, words almost forced out. The thought of being at such a close level with the skeleton again makes your temples ache, and while you could use the excuse of taking the next bus as an easy escape, you're not sure whether to risk it and give into the woman's offer as a result. "Is he… around?"

"He's at the garage," she replies, sliding back under the vehicle. Her voice sounds muffled when she continues, the melody of tools and metal clanking heard as she keeps on with her work. "Think you could tell him Papyrus doesn't need a lift anymore? I got a call from him earlier saying the car's back in shape."

You bite your lip, frowning after. "Did he say how much the repairs cost?"

"His insurance covered up for him this time. A lot of cars have been getting damaged under this weather, so it really isn't a surprise for companies to receive those calls anymore."

"Still," you persist, sighing. "If there's any way I can help, then please let me know." You rummage through your belongings, retrieving a twenty, a ten, and three fives from your wallet. "I, um... don't really have enough cash on me right now, but I can pay you more formally when I'm back."

Undyne slides back to you, forehead creased, eye narrowed, and lips frowning. "I'm not asking you to pay," she says. "I like getting my hands on stuff like this, so it's no big deal."

You crouch down next to her and slide the money into her jeans' front pocket. "It still feels bad not to." Standing up, you dust your uniform off and check the time marked on your phone again, reminding yourself not to make any further delays.

"Hey!" She calls out for you when you leave without any other words or wait. To counter, you rush off to the garage, both as an escape and a necessity. "I'll get you next time. You're lucky I'm laying down right now!"

Her words fade as you approach your next destination, being greeted with a helmet the second you're in. A motorcycle stands in front of you, engine rumbling as the driver holds it back, his face kept hidden under another helmet. "C'mon," the monster says, his expression unknown to you, and voice similar by how quick those words are muttered. "I already know you're late, so I ain't gonna push any buttons." You see his head lower, and a comment follows after that, "Suggest ya hold on tight with what you're wearin'."

You face down at yourself, seeing both dress pants and shoes -- typical of your work uniform. While it's nothing out of the ordinary, it makes sense as to how it can be hazardous wearing both pieces while riding a motorcycle, their material far less practical for something like this. Taking the monster's words into account, you nod and sit behind him, hands awkwardly slipping around his waist. "...May I?"

"Not may," he says, a chuckle leaving him. "You should." 

Words acknowledged, you press yourself closer against the skeleton, arms locking tight around his waist and chest brushing with his back. Your hands can be felt growing sweaty, reminding you to be cautious despite the well-intentioned meaning of the ride being offered to you. "I'm… I'm ready." You can hear your voice shake, though you hope that he hasn't; the engine helps drown out part of it, fortunately.

When Sans steps on the gas, your words fall short and you grab him tighter than before, the loud and sudden roar of the vehicle sending out fear inside you. 

"You're not," he remarks, holding back a laugh. "Just grab on tighter if you're scared. I won't bite."

You do as suggested, ignoring the humour in his tone as you close your eyes shut and squeeze him tight enough to cut his laughter. 

"Ready now?"

"Y- Yes."

He charges right off, wind stinging your arms with how fast it blows. While fear clings onto one side of you, adrenaline takes hold of the other, allowing you to open an eye and peak at the scenery before you. The monster zooms past all sorts of sights and sounds, from birds foraging through trees to other engines rumbling. It's an exhilarating feeling at its least, and an overwhelming one at its most.

He stops at a red light and spares a glance at you through the mirror only to chuckle again, more amused than the last. "The more I know you, the more (mom/dad)-like you act," he says, prepping the motorcycle again.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You drive a minivan, wore those long pajamas Tori gave you to sleep without any problem, and now you're scared of speed n' danger." The light changes back to green, muffling out part of his voice as he drives off again. "What's next? Do ya work as a teacher, in an office, or under the medical field? Those're usually the top three, though I'm guessin' it's somewhere along the first two -- based on your uniform."

You don't want to give him an answer, reluctant to let him know he'd been right. "...I'm a secretary," you reply, facing down at his waist.

He laughs, hard and deep. The sound alone makes you ease in, how earnest it is making you break into a smile yourself.

"Called it."

• • •

You're a mess by the time you make it to your first stop, pants wrinkled, shoes dusty, foundation smudged, and body still shaken up by the ride. Sans waits until you're done fixing yourself out, though as expected, he makes a comment along the lines of how you didn't need to bother, since you still looked good -- all according to him, at least. You ignore those comments and face him only when you're done freshening up, mind locked on what you're meant to do now that you've made it to a shopping center.

"Do you… really have the time?" you ask before getting off, noticing how early it still is and the fact he'd chosen to take you here rather than drive you off straight to work without any other stops. "You don't have to stay, if it's going to delay you in any way."

"It's fine," he replies, double-checking the vehicle's parked. "Wouldn't drive you here, otherwise. You also didn't wanna stay for breakfast, so I know you haven't eaten anything yet."

The hustle and bustle of everyone around you stops whenever they walk too close to where you're at.

Knowing your face has been thrown around all over social media these past few weeks, it's no surprise nor doubt that you've already got a reputation, be it more bad than good. The sight of you being right next to the monster involved with you in your bus incident is apparently a surreal one based on the looks people display, these varying mostly between shock, amusement, and caution -- sometimes all three at once. You step out of the motorcycle when the skeleton offers a hand out to you, further making those around you demonstrate their feelings over the scene unfolding before their eyes.

You don't bother giving them a minute of your time and rather keep your hold firm on Sans's hand, nodding your head subtly when he casts a look at you. 

"Play along," you mouth, smiling at him. "Don't bother with this stuff," you whisper, close to his ear cavity. "The best we can do right now's prevent something like that bus incident from ever happening again." To avoid letting the situation receive another meaning from him, you hold his hand stronger, getting him to walk closer to your side again. "And thanks again for back then, by the way." You say those words only loud enough for only him to hear. Then, you move your gaze away from him to direct a sterner, unamused look at a passerby, this one having stayed looking at you for just a little too long.

You continue walking and ignoring stares until you arrive at the school supply closest by. 

With Frisk being gone for almost two months during their time spent at the Underground, it's of no surprise plenty of things have changed at their school. One of these were the new materials required for the start of their second semester, mostly for physical education and the newest addition of a gardening class. Although you hadn't thought the skeleton would offer himself to help you get through your to-do list, you adapt and thank him. Truthfully, you expected him to simply drop you off at work and leave.

"Do you want to eat something first? You haven't had breakfast yet either, have you?" you ask, spotting a diner barely a block away. "There's still time, if you're really up for this. And Undyne already said Papyrus got his car fixed, so you don't need to go pick him up anymore."

"Askin' me out? Thought I was the one who owed ya dinner for last time."

Not wanting to satisfy his teasing any longer, you ignore his comment with a hum and search through your belongings. From there, you retrieve some brand-new ear plugs, these still in their packet. "Here," you say, handing them over to him. The monster's lucky you aren't too much of a morning person, and that he'd caught you in a good mood with the rush and the wind of the ride. Any different situation, and you would've come up with a quick retort to his comment. "I'm not sure if it'll work on your kind, but... Frisk uses them when they need to study or sleep when they're not sleepy. They get distracted easily, so I usually carry these with me, just in case."

It takes Sans a solid minute to react, though a grin shows when he takes the ear plugs from you. He looks them over once before saving them in his back pocket, and the outright cheeky look he gives you makes your senses grow alert again. For certain, there was no letting your guard down whenever he was near you from now on. "Thanks, pal," he says, winking. "You're a real dear underneath all that exterior -- All bark and no bite."

"Don't test me," you warn, scowling. "And don't call me dear."

"What about babe, then? Or do ya wanna be called (Mr./Mrs.) Serif already?"

You huff and hurry to the school supply, leaving him behind. "I'm fine with neither. Thank you." Your steps are haste, these only stopping when you open the door, keeping it that way for him to enter next. "But if anyone's last names are getting replaced here though, it's you who'd be named Comic Sans (L/N). I don't do replacing names, unless I get to keep mine."

"Assertive," he comments, whistling. "Nice."

Already feeling a headache coming through, you sigh and pay more attention to the list at hand, then head over to the store's arts and crafts section first.

"Do you need anything for you or your brother?" you ask him, keeping your eyes focused on the materials displayed. There's a bunch of items you figure could catch Papyrus's interest given by how much he liked spending time with Frisk, be it by playing with them or helping them with their homework. That thought makes you throw in a few items regardless of having not received an answer yet, endeared by the image of Frisk being happy over the surprise, and the taller skeleton as a follow-up. Not only did Toriel ensure to be a great babysitter, but Papyrus was attentive over Frisk's happiness and enjoyment just as much as he was over his elder brother's. "My treat."

You've almost forgotten who you're shopping with, thoughts having drifted away more than you were aware of, though it doesn't take long to be reminded of your company, his comment one that drags you right back to the present, too quickly for you to manage.

"You're already a treat all on your own, pal."

Pissed, you take the nearest, lightweight (and non-breakable) item to you and throw it at him. He catches it though, barely flinching or budging with how quick he reacts. Then, he looks at the item now held in his hand, diablerie flickering in his gaze. He shows you what you've thrown at him, further making you subtract another point off your comeback list and add it over to his wooing list.

"Being indirect now, huh?" he comments, holding a Valentine's Day scrapbooking kit, marked off as a discount item for how old the product is. "I like it."

Determined to fight back, you retort with, "Yeah. It's worn out and fifty-percent off, just like your poor excuses of what you call 'flirting' around with me."

Unfortunately, that only seems to make him smile more. 

"Nice."

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@the-simp-express

@nektotersh

@disastrous-l0vebug

@therealchickenjoe

@mintyflakes025

@pandaquick

[that-crazy-five-foot-two-chick]

Summary: Winry sat in the optimal place to study in the school cafe for the entire fall semester. Then spring came, and suddenly some self-entitled twit who dressed like off-brand Gerard Way decided it was his territory. He was so not going to get off easy.

Rating: T

Word Count: 1.8k words of coffee shop/college AU with a side of enemies to almost-lovers

A/N: It's finals week, I posted this on Ao3 at almost 5am, and if the rest of the sentence didn't make it obvious, I'm writing from unfortunate experience. Not beta-ed or proofread, although I happened to see one thing to fix when I woke up this morning. Feel my raw power. Rawr.

It wasn't that big a deal.

It kind of really was, though.

Every Thursday morning during the fall semester, Winry sat in the same spot at the same school coffee shop. It was the spot sent by the entire patron pantheon of cram papers. Maybe one person didn't need an entire booth, but it was in the corner, and the tops of the bench seats had opaque plastic barriers that just so happened to be perfect for minimizing excess visual chaos. For the most part, there weren't loud conversations, and the jazz music that came through the speakers helped her tune out people ordering coffee. Add to that the fact that she could use campus flex dollars and not her own bank account that was begging for mercy, and it was the perfect spot to get papers done.

But apparently not this spring.

As soon as Winry walked in, she noticed him in the corner. Some emo wannabe guy on his computer. Probably on Reddit complaining about how women didn't appreciate the amazing pics he sent them on Tinder. Or at least, it was a fair guess based on the sour look on his face. Why did this guy of all people have to steal the holy grail spot? Ugh. She was still gonna get her coffee, darn it.

"You know the deal, Sciezska. Medium roast with a shot of espresso and vanilla creamer."

"On it! You paying in flex?"

"Yeah." She scanned her student ID and lowered her voice. "Who's off-brand Gerard Way in the corner?"

"Who's Ger—"

"The punk kid."

"Ohhh. I can try to get his number for you, if you want."

"No, he looks like a total tool! And not the kind I like dealing with!"

"Which means you think he's hot. I didn't think you were into that type, but you're not wrong."

"For the last time, no, Sciezska! He took my spot! And I'm trying very, very hard to keep this to a stage whisper, but if you keep trying to set me up with some random creep, I won't be able to!"

A distinctly male voice grumbled, "I'm not a creep."

"Keep telling that to the girls on Tinder. I'm sure they'll understand eventually."

"Yeah, and I'll bet if you look at your 'Live, Laugh, Love' sign a little more, you'll understand it eventually." He mumbled something under his breath.

"What was that, Mr. Nice Guy?"

"Lay off, it's eight in the morning. I said the only reason I even have a Tinder account is because my roommate stole my phone while I was going to the bathroom."

"Well, if you didn't want it, why didn't you delete it?"

"Eh, I figured if I really got sick of being single one day, it'd already be there."

"Never would have guessed you were single," Winry said dryly.

"Come on, it's way too early to be rubbing that kind of crap in. Who says I'm not fine with being single anyway?"

Sciezska timidly spoke up. "Medium roast with espresso and vanilla creamer?"

Winry thanked her as red jacket boy continued. "'Edward Elric, Bachelor.' Almost sounds as good as 'Edward Elric, Bachelor of Science.'"

"B.S. degree. Sounds about right."

"About time you stopped acting like I'm an idiot!"

Winry snorted. "That's not what I meant."

"Hey!"

"And with that, I'm going to go find some other spot to write my paper."

Edward, as his name apparently was, scoffed and mumbled something that sounded like "good riddance". Maybe the librarians wouldn't get on her case too much for bringing in coffee.

-----

A week later, Winry walked into the cafe, assuming the circumstances of the previous week were an anomaly. They were not.

"Medium roast with a shot of espresso and vanilla creamer," she grumbled and sulked in the direction of the corner seat.

"Hey, don't start with me again, blondie. I've had a whopping four hours of sleep and I can't promise you'll like what comes out of my mouth."

"We're at a coffee shop. Get some coffee. I can't help it if you're too hung over to be polite."

"Now look, genius. I did not stay up until 4 A.M. working on a stupid chem paper for that sadistic pyromaniac excuse for a professor just for some random chick to accuse me of being hung over."

"Oh."

"Yeah. And for your information, coffee doesn't really help me wake up. It just helps me focus on homework." He lifted up his empty cup and gave it a shake.

"That's the weirdest thing I've ever heard."

"ADHD is a weird thing, and yet, here I am."

"Huh, interesting."

"Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to pick up where I left off with the same stupid ten page paper I started last night."

"Oh right. Sure," Winry stammered. "Listen, I'm really sorry I just assumed things about you. It was wrong of me, and I'd like to make it up to you, if that's okay."

Edward eyed her suspiciously. "What do you have in mind?"

"Well...I could look over your paper once you're done writing it? I've got a paper of my own to write while I'm waiting, and I can sit right across the table here so you don't have to come get me. I won't try to talk to you or anything. Neither of us need that kind of distraction."

"Alright, alright. Get your coffee and sit down. The girl at the counter's been up there waiting for a good minute or two while you've been at confessional over here."

"Wait, she has?" Winry's eyes widened, and Edward laughed at her expense. He was kind of attractive when he wasn't scowling...wait what? She pouted and got up to retrieve her coffee. When Winry returned, she plopped down on the bench opposite Edward and opened her laptop. Peeking out from behind it, she added, "By the way, I'm Winry. I figured you ought to at least know the name of the person who's proofreading your paper."

"Well, Winry, you're the one who volunteered." The corners of his mouth twitched upward. The two worked on their assignments in silence, occasionally speaking up when necessary.

-----

Edward was in the corner again the next week as well.

"Hey, Edward! Mind if I join you for homework again?"

"Normally, I'd say no, but you didn't bother me too much last week, so you might as well." He turned away slightly.

"Great! Have you gotten your coffee yet? I didn't see a cup, and you got something the last two times."

"Eh, I haven't been here long. If you're going up and getting yours, would you mind ordering a caramel macchiato for me?" He asked, sliding his ID across the table.

"Yeah, no problem. I'll be back in a sec."

She returned and slipped his ID back before pulling out her computer. "Do you have anything for me to look over this time?"

"Not this week. But if you have anything you need looked over, I can do that, too."

"Actually, I do, if you wouldn't mind."

"Winry, I just volunteered. Just send the paper to my school email. Mine's 'elricedwa'," he instructed as he proceeded to spell it.

"Medium roast and a caramel macchiato?" Sciezska called out.

"Coming!" Winry replied and turned to Edward. "I just sent it, so you should be able to start while I'm getting our stuff." Eyes glued to his laptop, Edward gave a thumbs up.

Once she returned with their drinks, Winry sat down and wordlessly set Edward's drink next to him.

"Thanks," he muttered distantly. His lips mirrored the words he was reading. Though his lips weren't plump by any stretch of the imagination, they were shapely. His steely concentration made the air leave Winry's lungs. To top it all off, the first rays of sunlight came through the window just right, hitting Edward's hair in a way that made it positively glow.

What was she thinking? Those were only the sorts of things people thought when they had a crush. She'd only had two positive interactions with him, including this one. ...well, maybe it was a crush. She could certainly do worse than someone with a questionable fashion sense. After all, he worked hard, and he got good grades, if the quality of his writing was any indication. Okay, fine. He was also drop dead gorgeous, if you could see past his clothing choices. Yeah, she had a crush.

"Did you hear anything I just said?"

"...no."

"Figures. I finished reading your paper. It's not bad, I just left a few suggestions for sentence structure. Now I am going to enjoy my caramel macchiato." He took off the lid and breathed in the steam with his eyes closed, nearly drooping into the cup in content. When he opened his eyes slowly, Winry was awestruck by the similarity between the color of his eyes and his drink.

"What?" Edward furrowed his eyebrows.

"Nothing. I didn't say anything. At all. Nope."

"Okay." He shrugged. She reopened the document and went through his suggested edits. Gnawing her lip in concentration, she leaned forward a bit to settle in and tackle the editing.

"...hey, uh, Winry?" Edward gulped. "Are you going to drink your coffee?"

"Oh! Yeah, I almost forgot. Thanks, Edward!" she smiled.

"No–no problem. And you can call me Ed, you know. Most people do. Except for that excuse for a professor that calls me pipsqueak. Can you believe he's my advisor? I mean, come on, I'm a grown man. I'm not that short."

Winry made a poor attempt at containing her laughter. "Okay then, Ed. Prove it. Stand up."

"Fine." He slid out of the booth and stood. Winry followed suit and appraised their respective heights.

"Well, I'd hardly call you tall, but you're at least taller than me by a few inches, for whatever that's worth."

Edward grinned as if he had won some sort of prize. "Time for shorties to sit down now!"

"Watch it now. You're not too far from that label yourself, mister."

They both returned to their positions in the booth and worked steadily for the next hour. At the end of that time, Winry closed her laptop. "Ed, are you okay? You seem distracted."

"ADHD. I'm always distracted," he dismissed.

"No, like, are you sick or something? You did get more than four hours of sleep this time, right?"

"No comment." Ed's mouth twitched. He mumbled barely loud enough to hear, "Wouldn't have mattered anyway."

"Are you sure? If you're not feeling well, I can drive you over to the health center."

"N-no. That's not it." He exhaled, then slid a napkin across the table. His hands trembled slightly. "Anyway, here's my number. In case you need me to look over a paper. Or whatever. I've got a class soon."

Winry blushed, but tucked the napkin in her laptop. "Thanks, Ed. See you next week?"

"Yeah. Next week."

-----

Winry: This goes with your major, right?

Edward: Blocked

[smileyoongle]

Deception (A Kim Namjoon Mafia AU)

Previous chapters in the master list! Sorry for the delay.... let's get it!

Summary: A damsel in distress and a lonely mafia leader. Different but not too different. The two worlds collide on a rainy night when Kim Namjoon, a renowned Mafia leader is called for an emergency and Y/N Y/L/N is on the run from her abusive father. Feelings stir and he rescues her. But one of them is a liar. And the other's life is on the line. It's only a matter of time until all secrets are out in the open.

Will love be born? Or will death conquer?

chαptєr thrєє: Lost and Found

Character Count: 10,033

Pairing: Namjoon×Reader (Appearances by the whole of BTS)

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

The lies you spun when we begun, you thought would be forgot.

-Micheal Faudet

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

Feeling peaceful wasn't something Namjoon was used to. It was a rare feeling considering the kind of things he had to deal with. His mind was in a constant battle between what was right and what he needed to do. A never ending self-conflict.

The news that Hana might be back was too much for Namjoon to handle. She was his best friend. They went to school together, they had picnics together, they grew up together. Both their families loved them a lot. Or at least that's what Namjoon thought. Until his father revealed that he was the heir of the Mafia, the most powerful one at that. Namjoon remembered telling hana about it. He remembered how she had smiled at him and comforted him.

"I'll stand here, no matter what. You do what you need to do."

Those were the times when he used to be at peace.

With her.

Beside her.

But one day, all of it had gone when she died. She took all of Namjoon's happiness, warmth and peace with her. The worst part was, Namjoon never saw her body so he searched for her. He searched and searched for years, eventually giving up when every clue led him to a dead end. And now here she was. 4 years later.

Placing his head on the wooden table in front of him, Namjoon sighed and closed his eyes. His head was gonna explode soon, he was positive about it. For the few minutes that he had spent looking at your sleeping form, he had forgotten about everything. It's like you were a medicine. A medicine that kept him sane and safe. The warm feeling in his chest was back and he liked it. But it was gone just as you started talking about leaving. How could he let you go? With everything that was happening, he needed to feel sane all the time. He needed to feel safe. He needed you.

And so he had answered you, a little harshly.

"You are staying here. Don't talk about going anywhere."

Namjoon winced at the realisation that he might have scared you. That was absolutely not his intention. A knock on the door startled him, making him frown. No one ever bothered him when he was in his study. Actually, he didn't even let anyone inside his study.

"Can I come in?" Your voice reached his ear through the door, slightly muffled and too soft, as if you were scared. Definitely because of Namjoon. "Come in." Namjoon replied, clearing his throat and making sure his appearance was alright. You slowly opened the door and stepped inside, glancing around the study as you pushed the door shut behind you. Namjoon watched you carefully, following your gaze in case he had left any kind of things related to his work.

"So, everything at your house is this.... pretty?" You asked, waving your hands in the air. Namjoon couldn't help but smile, surprised to see that you didn't seem so scared of him. "I'm sorry I forgot to give you a house tour." He said, his eyes falling to your clothes, more like his clothes. You had showered and changed, your hair was damp and a new t-shirt hung on your body. You looked down at your clothes and pursed your lips.

"Uh..sorry I still need to buy clothes. When I came out of the shower, these were already laid out on the bed." You stated, rubbing the back of your neck and looking down at the floor. Namjoon couldn't take his eyes off of you. He concluded that he just liked watching you and everything you did. It was his new favourite leisure activity.

"I told someone to give them to you. You look good in.....my clothes." Namjoon said, hesitating a little on mentioning his clothes. Your eyes widened slightly and you blushed, not accustomed to recieving compliments at all.

"Th-thank you." You stammered, biting your bottom lip. The elephant in the room still needed to be mentioned and you had no idea how to do that. What should you ask him?

"You don't have to go anywhere, Y/N. If that's what you're here to talk about then I think I should be honest with you." Namjoon beat you to it. He had never taken too much time to solve his problems, something people praised him for. You simply nodded and moved closer to his table, resting the palm of your hands on the cherry wood. You glanced at the chair beside you but decided against sitting on it for some reason.

Just like Namjoon thought, he felt better on seeing you. As if you had just taken away all his worries. Now all he had to do was convince you to stay.

"I wanna know everything you've ever been through." He said, resting his chin on the back of his hand. You did a double take at him, stilling all your movements, your eyes stuck on him like glue. Namjoon had hit a sensitive nerve, and he knew that. Your knees felt weak and you just couldn't stand anymore, giving up and sitting down on the chair.

"Why?" You asked, your heart pounding harder and harder. No one ever asked you this because no one cared. You were just a girl who everyone used, to fulfill their needs. Namjoon looked at you with sympathetic eyes and stood up from his plush leather chair. He slowly walked towards where you sat and kneeled down in front of you. Hesitantly, he placed his hands on yours, giving them a light squeeze. It pained him too much to see how sad you had become. He couldn't even imagine how traumatic everything had been for you. He still wished you had just let him kill your stupid excuse of a father.

"You have been through too much, Y/N. You didn't deserve that life. I wanna know so that I can....fix you." He mumbled softly, doubting his words when tears filled your eyes. But it wasn't because of him. It was because this was the first time that someone was so concerned for you. You couldn't help but think this was a game and he was gonna hurt you.

"Why would you wanna fix me? Can't you see? I can't be fixed. You don't know but I have scars that-"

"I have seen them and I really wish I could erase them, trust me." He interrupted you as your jaw dropped. When did he see anything?

You shook your head and pulled your hands away from him, your eyes darting around the room. Anywhere but him. Because you were scared you'd look into his eyes and you would stay. You just couldn't go through all the pain again.

"Y/N, I know you don't trust me but I mean you no harm. You can ask me anything you want." He said, slightly hurt when you had pulled away from his touch. Obviously you were a little too vulnerable at the moment. Maybe Namjoon should have approached this issue a bit differently. He stayed kneeling down in front of you as he saw the hesitation in your eyes.

So you had questions.

After a minute of silence, you finally gathered enough confidence to ask him whatever you wanted to ask.

"Who are you?"

Namjoon's breath hitched, not too surprised regarding your question. He was expecting this. Just not so soon. What was he to tell you? That he ran a mafia? That he was the person who everyone feared? That he killed people and he also did business with your father?

"You scared away my father. That man has never been scared of anyone in his life. You also have a gun."

Namjoon stood up and turned away from you, not wanting you to see the conflict in his eyes. There has to be something he could say. Some lie that you would believe.

"I own a company." Namjoon lied, hoping you bought it.

"A company?"

"Kim Enterprise. It's very popular and-"

"I know Kim Enterprise. I've heard a lot about it." You stated, nodding your head. It was true. Kim Enterprise was a very popular name in the whole country. It had a good reputation and did a lot of work of charities and other NGOs. That made you trust Namjoon a little more.

"What about the gun?" You asked, a little confused as to why a businessman would need such a dangerous weapon. But then again, it probably had to do something with all the rivals and threats.

"I am a businessman, Y/N. I have a lot of people who don't want me to be where I am today." Namjoon replied, surprised with how the lies were easily falling past his lips. You nodded and looked down at your feet, thinking everything through. Namjoon felt bad for having lied to you but that was the only way to make you stay. The truth was, Kim Enterprise did exist but it wasn't owned by Namjoon, it was owned by Seokjin. Along with being in the Mafia, Jin had a company which he ran in order to hide all his illegal practices. The power and money that came with being a CEO, helped the entire mafia in staying superior to others.

When Namjoon didn't hear any reply from you, he turned around to see you lost in your thoughts. You were constantly biting your lips and fiddling with your fingers, eyes trained on the floor. Namjoon walked towards you and pushed your chin up with his finger so that he could see your face.

"Please, Y/N. You won't have to worry about anything. I promise to not let anyone harm you." Namjoon promised, a desperate frown etched on his eyebrows. The sincerity in his eyes was enough to convince you. And so, the words tumbled from your lips.

"I'll stay. But please don't break me again, I am not sure I'll be able to take it."

∆ ∆ ∆ ∆ ∆ ∆ ∆ ∆ ∆ ∆ ∆ ∆ ∆ ∆ ∆ ∆

A girl dressed in all black, pushed through the crowd, trying to get to the other side of the road. It wasn't her fault that the festival had to happen on the day that she decided to come back to Seoul, the happy chatters of the people irritating her to no extent. She wasn't annoyed because of the loud voices, she was annoyed because of the happiness evident in them.

"Jungkook, close in on her from the west. Hoseok, you take the east. I'm following close behind her." Yoongi said into the earpiece, nodding on hearing everyone's replies. Hana had returned to Seoul, saving Yoongi and the others from the trouble of going to Incheon just for an hour's interrogation. Namjoon had been a little M.I.A from the activities of the gang but it was okay. Everyone understood how bothered he must have been after finding out that Hana was alive. None of the members believed it either until they saw her with their own eyes.

Yoongi walked faster, sighing in relief when Hana started walking into an alleyway, making it easier for them to get to her. Yoongi noticed how she was constantly looking over her shoulder.

Maybe she knew that she was being followed.

Yoongi glanced at Jungkook and Hoseok, nodding at them as they came and stood by his side, all three of them looking in front of them as Hana came to a halt at the end of the alley. Their hearts were pounding loudly at the anticipation of what was to come. Slowly walking towards her, they stopped just as she turned around, their hands clutching their guns tightly.

She stayed confused, narrowing her eyes at the three men who stood opposite her until the realisation dawned on her.

"Jungkook?" She mumbled, making jungkook's breath hitch. Mostly because he finally believed that it was her. Hana was like his sister and the loss of her had been unbearable for him. After hearing her voice, he finally knew that she was alive and this news wasn't just a false assumption.

"Hana?" He asked, taking a step closer to her as Yoongi and Hoseok tensed beside him. They wanted to stop Jungkook but they couldn't. They still weren't sure if they could let their guard down but Jungkook was too overwhelmed to care about any of this. A sob erupted from Hana's mouth as she broke into a run, throwing herself into jungkook's arms.

Yoongi turned to Hoseok, only to find the younger male looking at Hana suspiciously.

"I think it's time to let Namjoon know."

Taglist: @uwunamjoon @shadowstark @addy-nerd @tzuyyyuuu @stressedinmedschool247 @ifellinluvwithdorks @min-t-posts @floofwrites @pretty-in-pink-just-because @bts-d-onut @fangirllbookworm @mystical-writer @it-is-dana @ximaginx @kpopgirlbtssvt @pearylove

Let me know what you think. Also, tell me if you wanna be added to the taglist!

[sadienita]

Patience Is A Virtue - Part 3

Seokmin x Reader

Word Count: 1.9k

Warning: Mentions of manipulation and abuse.

Seokmin really was nothing but sweet to you. He was being very patience and up to now, the only time you had seen him lose his cool was at the party. You felt like you could really trust him, so why not take a step.

You were full of nerves as you tried on different sweaters and looked yourself over in the mirror. You wanted to wear something comfy today, but you still needed to look cute. So far, you had been meeting with Seokmin in public and texting a lot. If anything you had learned that was a big softy. He could look large and intimidating but in reality be was sweet. It was hard to believe he had almost punched someone for you. He was kind and sensitive and cared so deeply about people and you couldn't imagine him ever hurting someone. He was a little protective of you, not unlike Seoyeon. For the most part if you were up ordering drinks and someone started bothering you he'd step in and make it clear that you weren't interested.

You felt so much more comfortable with him than you had felt with either of your previous partners. The difference was striking. And you wanted to be with, and just him, for a little while. Break week was the perfect time to go over to his place and just hang out. You knew he wouldn't pressure you into anything and you were starting to trust him so it was worth a shot.

The only problem was Seoyeon. She was also home and you knew she would ask what you were up to. You didn't want to lie to her again but you knew she would freak out if she found out what you were up to.

So you could just sneak out.

You finally settled on something to wear, the sweater was thin but cute and you were sure you'd be fine. You grabbed your purse and found your phone before walking very quietly to the front door. You got your boots on and started to search the closet for the right coat.

"You're going out?"

You flipped around to find Seoyeon giving you a curious look. 

"I-I- yeah," you stuttered.

"You normally tell me whenever you go out," she said, crossing her arms.

"It must have, uh, slipped my mind," you mumbled nervously.

"It’s the guy from the party, isn't it." 

You were sure you turned five shades paler as you stared at her in shock. "H-How di-"

"Emily told me," she replied flatly. "And you've been acting weird all semester, or at least since the party. I told you was a bad idea."

"Seoyeon, I-"

"I know," she sighed. "I know you want a chance to branch out but Emily said something happened, a fight almost broke out over you. You were so shaken up after. I really don't want you getting hurt again."

"It's fine this time," you said hurriedly. "It's different. Seokmin really is my soulmate."

Seoyeon said your name but you cut her off. "I know. I know you're worried and I know what happened last time but Seokmin really is different. We've been talking a lot and I've gotten closer to him. We've gone out on dates and he's nothing but kind and caring with me. He's not pushy, he's very sweet."

"So you're going out on a date?"

"I'm… going over to his house," you mumbled, shuffling from one foot to the other.

"There's no way," she said. "You haven't known him long enough. Absolutely not."

"I'm going," you said boldly, wishing you felt a little bolder too. "I already said I would."

"Fine."

You gave Seoyeon a surprised look. She wouldn't normally give in that easily. But your face went red as she grabbed her coat. You shook your head but didn't manage to get a word out before she spoke.

"I'm going with you. Someone needs to make sure he's not a maniac."

"I don't need a babysitter!"

She sighed. "I'm not chaperoning. I just want to meet him and make sure he's good for you."

You knew she wouldn't change her mind so you grumpily accepted. She was going to meet him sooner or later. You just hoped she didn't scare him or stare over your shoulder the whole time. You were looking forward to finally being alone with him.

The bus ride was quiet as you tried to calm your nerves about seeing Seokmin and having Seoyeon meeting him. You were sure she'd vet him with a million questions. You wanted to save him from the interrogation but you knew it would happen sooner or later.

As you got off the bus with her you couldn't read her expression.

"Please be nice," you mumbled.

"I'm not gonna scare him," she replied. "If he's a good person then he's fine." She glanced at you. "You really like him, huh?"

"He's my soulmate," you said quietly. You caught a glimpse of her rolling her eyes. You knew she refused to believe it and that was fine. She didn't have to but you did.

As you got to the house you noticed Seoyeon rolling out her shoulders and fanning herself. You thought better of asking why. It was cold out so her being hot didn't make any sense, but whatever it was she might not say.

You texted Seokmin quickly as you made your way up to the door. You giggled to yourself as you heard him running down the stairs while you knocked. He threw open the door with a large smile on his face and picked you up, spinning you around while he hugged you. You squealed and giggled and clung to him until he set you down, leaving a soft kiss on your forehead that made you blush.

"I'm so glad you could come," he hummed, before looking at Seoyeon. "And you've brought a friend."

"This is Seoyeon," you replied as he let you both in and you took off your jackets. "She's like a big sister. And she insisted on meeting you." You threw her a look which she ignored.

Seokmin merely smiled. "That's alright. I don't mind the interrogation. You have to see if I'm any good for her."

Seoyeon hummed, you swore you saw a smile start to tug at her lips but she managed to keep a straight face. You smiled to yourself. If she already liked him that was a good sign; she didn’t like either of your exes when she met them and her intuition turned out to be right.

Seokmin led the two of you into the kitchen. You took a seat at the table with Seoyeon as he started to fix some snacks.

“So what do you want to know?” he asked. You were relieved that he was so easy going about this. He was handling Seoyeon’s overbearing nature very well.

Seoyeon crossed her arms. “Where are you from? What are you studying? What is your family like? What are your intentions with-”

“Seoyeon!” you hissed, shooting her a glare. Seokmin chuckled and gave you a sweet smile, clearly unbothered.

“It’s alright, I really don’t mind.” He turned to Seoyeon. “My family is from the Suji district of Yongin City so I’m just in Seoul for school. I’m in my third year studying life sciences and even though it’s a lot of school I do want to be a doctor. I have an older sister and two loving parents.”

Seoyeon opened her mouth to say something but seemed distracted by another member of the house walking into the room.

“Hey, Seungcheol,” Seokmin smiled. You greeted him shyly and introduced yourself, Seoyeon sat there with a look of disbelief on her face. Seungcheol grinned.

“Well hello,” he said, sitting next to Seoyeon. She blinked at him and tried to speak and you looked between them confused while Seokmin giggled and took your hand. 

“We should probably leave them be,” he mumbled as you headed up the stairs to his room.

“Why?” you questioned, looked behind you down the stairs.

“Because I’m sure Seungcheol wants some alone time with his soulmate.”

You nearly tripped on the final step on your way to his room. Seokmin caught you, the look of concern on his face laced with a touch of amusement.

“Are you okay?”

You shook your head as you entered his room, closing the door behind him. “I just… I really didn’t know if it would happen…”

“What do you mean?” he chuckled, sitting on the bed and pulling you with him. 

“She doesn’t believe in soulmates. She.. I mean after everything we’ve been through…”

Seokmin frowned. “What on earth would make her think soulmates don’t exist?”

You stared down at your hands, fiddling with a ring you had on. You really trusted Seokmin. So far he really cared about you and he’d been nothing but sweet. So you could tell him this, right? He wouldn’t be freaked out or upset or run away? You would have to tell him that eventually. It was such a big thing and you hated that it had shaped you so much but it had and if you didn’t…  Well you didn’t want to feel like you were lying to him.

You took a deep breath, starting with something easier. “Her parents got divorced.” You heard him gasp softly, divorces were almost unheard of. After all, who would leave their soulmate? “I remember visiting her when I was little, they were always fighting. It was like they couldn’t agree on a single thing. And it was really hard on her. No one else’s parents seemed to fight but hers did. They always claimed they were soulmates and that they just fell out of love, but I don’t know…”

“Well, that would shake your faith in love,” Seokmin hummed, pulling you close to him.

“I thought that maybe they were never soulmates. They just… married the wrong person.”

“That makes more sense to me,” he said quietly. “But she really saw one relationship fall apart and stopped believing in soulmates?”

You shifted uncomfortably and bit your lip before deciding you could trust him. “It… it wasn’t just her parents. It was me, too.” You paused, but decided to push through before he said anything. “I’ve just… I’ve had some bad partners. My first boyfriend was, just uncaring. He expected me to do all the work. I bent over backwards for him and did a lot of things I shouldn’t have and he was never satisfied and it was Seoyeon that finally helped me end it.”

“My second boyfriend…” you tried to ignore the shiver that ran down your spine. “I believed him when he said he was my soulmate. I thought that must be true and I was so happy… until I wasn’t. Until he started demanding more of me and threatening to leave when I tried to say no. Until he told me not to hang out with my friends anymore, that they didn’t care about me like he did. Until he got mad whenever I wasn’t free to see him. Until I spent the night out with Seoyeon when she was visiting home, even though he told me not to and the next time I saw him he… he…”

You hadn’t even noticed the tears streaming down your face until you felt Seokmin gently wiping them away. You felt a million miles away as you talked about him. It was at once painfully real and like a different life entirely. You took a breath to continue but Seokmin shushed you.

“You don’t have to say anymore,” he hummed, pulling you closer to him. “I’m so sorry. You didn’t deserve that.”

You nodded almost numbly. Maybe that was too much.

[littlemsstark3000]

Whatever It Takes

Avengers: Endgame - IronWidow fix

Something happened.

Tony knew it. He figured it out through the empty space beside him, the discarded pillows, his bare body under the sheets, and her scent mixed with the vodka which they shared.

Natasha was there. And she was gone before he woke up.

He shut his eyes again. Scenes from the previous night started replaying in his mind. They had more than enough liquor but they were not drunk, he was sure of that. He was aware of what was happening from the time he leaned dangerously closer towards her and planted a chaste kiss on the corner of her lips. If she tried to stop him, he would have backed off. She did not.

He groaned, mind blurred of what to do next.

Was he supposed to call or message her? Check where she was? Ask why she just left? Say he was sorry?

But he wasn't a bit sorry for what happened. He wanted it... since when, only heaven knew. The question was if she wanted it the same way, or she has regretted it the moment she woke up and realized what they have done.

Eight months ago, they lost to Thanos. He snapped and gone was 50% of the living, including the closest people to him and to her. Peter was dusted in his arms in Titan. Clint lost his whole family, which eventually led to Natasha losing her bestfriend in him also.

When Tony was rescued in space by Nebula and Captain Marvel, he returned to a very quiet compound. Natasha, Steve, Bruce and Thor were the only ones left there. Rhodey and Pepper came the soonest they got the word about his return. They arrived as he lay in the med bay with the only female Avenger left watching over him.

The reunion was a lull before the storm that was his confrontation with Steve. The pain, the betrayal, the anger he harbored in his chest for their Cap since Siberia made him snap, too. What remained of his belief that they could avenge for the earth when they could not protect it - dusted. That night, Natasha went to his room and apologized for the hurt that she also caused him. He has long forgiven and understood her, and he let her stay until he slept.

The next day, he learned that the team has traced Thanos and attacked him to retrieve the infinity stones, in high hopes that they could still revert what happened. They did not get them... not even one.

Days later, Tony got well and chose to move on, opting to live alone this time in a lakehouse far from the city. He worked for Stark Industries, his own company still managed by Pepper, remotely. He enjoyed a more private life.

Among the then-Avengers, it was only with Natasha that he communicated. Bruce and Thor disappeared to somewhere he did not mind knowing about. They needed to rest, too. Steve stayed behind but opted to lie-low from being a supersoldier. While she, keeping herself together, continued to do work and organized a new team which could look after what was left of the world. With much respect for her choice, he made it clear that even if they were already far from being teammates, he was just a stone throw away especially for her, always.

And it was because of that mutual understanding that Natasha knocked on his door last night and broke down after a few glasses. Both of them were still grieving for their losses, no matter how hard they hid it. Both of them were still looking for answers even if it looked like they have moved on. Both of them, at the back of their minds, were still hoping that they could bring everyone else back.

Vulnerable, they succumbed to the temporary aid which they could get from each other on his bed. It wasn't hurried, but every touch, every move, every moan was desperate to satisfy their need for comfort. Once was not enough. They gave in again. And again...

Tony cleared his head with a cold shower then decided to go to her at the compound. He did not know what to say; he just had to see her first.

Natasha sat on her work desk, going through whatever she was doing on her laptop, when he entered her office.

"Tash," he stood before her table.

"What's up, Stark?" She did not even look up to him.

It felt like a kick on his gut. "So we're back to surnames only. That's cool," he replied with pure sarcasm.

"If you're here to talk about what happened, you shouldn't have bothered."

"Why not?"

She chuckled. "We're two consenting adults. It's done and over."

He followed her with confused stare and rising irritation as she walked to the side table and made a sandwich.

"What the fuck did you just say?"

Natasha raised her eyebrows to him. "Why? Oh don't act too modest on me. That's the least I will expect, especially from you."

His fists balled inside his pockets, he filled his lungs with much-needed air. "I'm not here to say I am sorry for what happened because really, I am not."

"Then? Don't tell me you worry about me getting..." She paused but he got it. "You know that's impossible."

"Natasha -"

"I'm not gonna run after you because of what happened, Stark. It was just good sex."

His face heated up and his teeth clenched so tight that it already hurt - whichever hurt more, his jaw or his heart, he didn't care. Before he could do something he would regret more, he turned to leave immediately, shutting the door loudly behind him... missing to catch Natasha's rattled expression, trembling lips and teary eyes.

That was the last time they saw each other.

*****

Four years later, Natasha appeared at his doorstep again - this time, with Steve and Scott Lang, presenting a possible way to get back what they lost to Thanos.

Quantum realm. Time heist.

"The stones are in the past. We can go back. We can get them," Steve said.

"We can snap our own fingers. We can bring everybody back," she added.

"Or screw it up worse than he already has, right?" he quickly countered, eyes bore into green ones.

His two other guests tried to justify some more, but each argument, he had an answer to.

Finally, Natasha spoke again. "Tony, we have to take a stand."

Great, she just called him by his first name again, reminding him of the good relationship they shattered with one steamy night followed by a more heated encounter.

"We did stand. And yet, here we are," he couldn't help being straightforward.

She turned her head, looking away.

He sighed. "I wish you'd come here to ask me something else. Anything else."

Natasha never looked at him again until the three of them left. His chest tightened even if it was him who declined their proposal. He knew he hurt her by crushing her hope. But he was actually scared to try again and fail. There was a bit of probability that they might do it right but he could not risk, could he? It would be too painful, if they would be lucky to even live after, that is.

When he lied down that night, in the same room where they spent that one night together, Tony still could not rest his case. He remembered Peter. He remembered Clint's lovely family. He thought about Natasha... and how she would have looked happier if he said yes to their idea that afternoon.

Those thoughts and the tiny bit of probability pulled him up from his bed to his little workshop.

*****

He made it work and they did it. They, the Avengers, won this time around.

After they collected the infinity stones from the past, with Clint's inevitable sacrifice in Vormir, and despite the accident that brought Thanos and his troop to the present, they managed to pull through in the battle. Bruce as the Hulk snapped with the gauntlet that Tony made and the bad guys turned to dust.

They lost two heroes in one day... but the ones who have returned, together with the four Avengers left, swore to their gravestone that the earth, with their loved ones in it, would be protected again at all cost.

Steve went back to the past to return the stones in their respective places. But he did not come back. They should have figured it out when he said goodbye to Bucky and left his shield to Sam before he stepped into the time heist.

Thor, sober and with renewed determination after he has spoken with Almother, led the New Asgard with Valkyrie.

Tony and Natasha promised to keep the rest of their team together whatever it takes. But it had to start by fixing what was between the two of them...

Like the night of Tony's return from space five years ago, she went up to him. He was awakened by movement on the bed in his room in the compound. The next thing he realized, the redhead was snuggled up on him, her arms around his neck, hands clasped on his nape.

"Tash..." He called her name softly and kissed her hair.

"Thank you, Tony."

Natasha looked up to him, and as his eyes adjusted to the dim light, he caught her eyes shiny with tears.

"I don't and won't ever take full credit of our win, if that's what you are thankful for," he smiled as he wiped her eyes with his thumb.

She shook her head. "I thank you for trying one more time. It wasn't a simple decision, I know. You've left this life behind for a more peaceful one and moved on," she caressed his cheek. "Now you're back here with us."

Tony shifted their positions so he was half hovering comfortably over her.

"When I was trying to figure out how we could pull off that quote-unquote time heist, you know what was on my mind?"

"What?"

"Oh, it wasn't a what but a who," he tapped his point finger on the tip of her nose. "You."

"Tony..."

"I haven't said it yet but I really like it better when you call me by my first name."

She sighed. "I'm serious."

"Same here. So serious about you that I risked screwing up reality."

She fell silent as she just stared into his eyes.

"Guess that's another way of saying I love you, Natasha. I've always cared so much about you... Damn it, I can't even stay mad at you for 24 hours straight."

"I'm not good with words, Tony."

"Not a problem."

His hand trailed from her side to her hips to the small of her back and pulled her closer to him, the same time that Natasha lifted her face to meet his lips that instantly opened up to hers.

That one night long time ago was never enough. They gave in again. And again. And again.

[their-name-is-morgan]

Ok b so like, I'm gonna try to make this sort of specific, I live for some angst and I live for Abba so like.... Imagine Abba being in one of those days where he just feels like garbage , but then his nice softie s/o visits him and cheers him up and gives him luv bc uwuwuwu. im so awkward at writing this, anyways, it's a scenario if thats ok with u b, and the s/o is a female.

AAAAH B I tried my best to make this turn out decent!! I feel like Leo is extremely OOC and there might be some mistakes here and there, but it’s late and I’m tired...so I’ll fix this in the morning! ;;

I hope you enjoy it anyway, ilysm❤

Il loro segreto

Leone Abbacchio x Fem!Reader❤

Everyone has bad days, and everyone faces them in a different way. There are people like Bruno: he would try his best to help other people overcome their struggles, and seeing their smiling face would make him feel better in an instant. There are people like Fugo: he would allow himself to have a day off, and he’d spend that day doing his favourite things, talking to his favourite people, or even staying alone. And then there are people like Abbacchio.

Leone was a man of few words, he would talk when necessary, and he wasn’t the nicest member of the gang. His face appeared to be in an eternal scowl, with his dark, thin eyebrows furrowed and his lips rarely lifting upwards. One would think that he was a strong, confident man whose only emotions were anger and disgust, but there’s always more to a person than what they let the others see.

Abbacchio was like any other person: some of his days were happy, other ones boring, and other ones bad, upsetting days. On the latter he would isolate himself and even refuse to get out of his bed, too mentally exhausted to interact with other people. He would push them away, and then he’d feel guilty about it. His lips would quiver and his eyes would water, but he’d hold it in.

And that day was one of those days.

(Name) exhaled, her eyes fixed on the last message he had sent: “See you at 9” with a black heart at the end. ‘Edgy’ she thought with a chuckle, but the small smile on her face disappeared as soon as it came. They had agreed on meeting quite early in the morning and, when she noticed that it was pouring outside but his last access remained the same as the previous night’s, she had guessed that the rain wouldn’t have been a problem for him either.

But after an hour of waiting for his arrival in front of the smallest, saddest bookstore in town, she came to a sudden realization: what if something was wrong?

Was he okay? Was the rest of the gang okay? Was her phone being dumb and not showing her his true last messages? She needed to know. She was about to stand up and open her umbrella when she noticed a notification from a different chat: Bruno had just texted her.

‘Would you mind coming over? I know this is sudden, but there’s somebody here who needs you.’ The text read, and her expression twisted into one of concern. It wasn’t the first time that she received a text like that, from either the Capo –whom she considered one of her closest friends- or another one of the guys, and it was not a pleasant thing to read.

She didn’t even bother to reply, instead she started walking towards the Passione residence, which was not that far away from that spot. The rain didn’t stop, making her almost trip at least twice along the way, but she was determined to see her lover’s face and hold him as close as possible.

It didn’t take that long before three knocks on the door snapped Bruno out of his trance; he stood up and made his way to the front door, abandoning the crossword puzzled he had been trying to complete for the past forty minutes on the wooden table.

He slowly opened the door to reveal his friend, umbrella in her right hand and phone in the other, her eyebrows slightly furrowed but a polite smile still present on her face. He motioned to come in and guided her to the couch, where they both sat down;

“So, what happened?” she asked, fidgeting with her hands. He let out a sigh,

“I...will keep it short. You know how Leone can get and now I know he needs extra support that I can’t give him. But please remember, cara; if this is too much for you, if he somehow hurts you with his words or actions...” he paused, cautiously choosing what to say next, “It’s not worth it. He is my friend, but you are too and I wouldn’t want you to think that I agree with everything he says or does.”

She carefully listened, her expression concentrated. She warmly smiled as he finished talking and took his larger hands in hers, grateful for having such a caring and honest friend.

“Bruno, I will follow your advice if anything happens. But I’m pretty sure it won’t,” she reassured him, and he nodded and returned the smile, “Now, he hasn’t left his room has he?”

“He’s been in there since yesterday night. He’d making all of us very worried, (Name).” He confessed, his tone of voice sincere. The girl could only nod and direct her gaze on the flight of stairs leading up to the second floor, where the bedrooms were located.

 Unmade bed, window shut, blankets and dirty clothes lazily piled up in a corner of the barely lit room. The smell not bad enough to be unbearable, but enough to make one’s nose wrinkle. The pitter patter of the rain soothed him, but unnerved him at the same time. Was it even possible to feel in such a way?

He sat there, intently staring at the blank, boring wall as if it was the most interesting thing. What else could he have done in his state after all? With his headphones too far away to reach and the overwhelming fatigue that didn’t seem willing to leave him anytime soon, he could only lose heart and sit there, with his back against the bed’s headboard.

His almost lifeless gaze fell upon his phone, which had been resting on his nightstand since the previous night. A feeling of guilt struck him at the thought that he hadn’t shown up for his and (Name)’s date, his chest tightening and a lump forming in his throat. No, he couldn’t cry. What was the point of crying anyway? His eyes alarmingly watered, salty tears threatening to roll down his pale cheeks; he tried to focus on breathing, when a soft, almost inaudible knock made his grip on the thin blanket covering his legs tighten and his eyebrows furrow.

No. He thought, his heart beating faster. Fuck, leave.

Silence. But then, another knock, this time a little bit louder. Who was it, and what did they want? He had harshly declined Bruno’s help earlier that morning, and made it clear that he didn’t want any of the other guys around. Watching Bruno retrieve his hand at his commanding voice made him regret his actions, but then again. What was he expecting from himself?

With his gaze fixed on the door, he flinched when he heard the voice of the person behind it.

“Leo?”

I don’t deserve you. He thought once again, his eyes burning. He suddenly became aware of the state he was in, with his normally silky hair now messy and tangled, tied in a low ponytail, no sign of makeup on his ghost white face, and his embarrassing attire composed by an old, short sleeved shirt –obviously too large for him- and a pair of grey night shorts, his legs exposed and, much to his regret, hairy.

“Leone, I just want to know if you’re okay-“

“I am, now leave.” Please, he wanted to add, before I say something I’ll regret.

He could feel her sighing, trying to come up with something to tell him that could’ve comforted him. But what exactly could’ve possibly made him happier? He had tried to think of something, to do something, but it only ended up hurting him more, making him lay back down, exhausted and ashamed of himself. Just the thought of it made him stomach turn, the thought of his beloved waiting for him under the pouring rain whilst he was laying in bed, frustrated... melancholic.

“Please tell me if there’s something I can do to make you feel better. I know you’re lying, but it’s okay,” a pause. Then shuffling, and the doorknob moved a little, “Can I come in, Tesoro?” she asked. Little did she know that the man was trying his hardest not to break down there, in that exact moment. Or did she? She’d never seen him or talked to him while he was in such a state, usually he would be angry and frustrated, drinking his pain away in the kitchen in the middle of the night, or even in a bar.

Silence means consent, she thought –as much as that sentence could’ve been wrong-, and she dared to open the door, moderately illuminating the chaotic room. He froze, not really sure what to do, if to yell at them or to gather all his strength to stand up and lock the door completely. But he simply stayed still, his chest rising and falling with every shaky breath he took.

“What are you doing here,” he asked, his words ended up sounding more like a statement, though. She slowly stepped inside, her gaze falling upon her handsome boyfriend’s body, partially covered by a thin, cream coloured blanket.

“I’m here to listen to you, what’s going on Leone?” she asked, slowly stepping closer to his bed. He eyed her for a moment, his eyes softening. He wanted to be mad and make her leave, he really did, she wasn’t supposed to see him like this and he deserved to suffer alone. He deserved to listen to all the horrible thoughts that his mind was full of, obsess over them.

He gasped at the light touch of her hand, which was now softly holding his, his long, bony fingers subconsciously intertwining with hers. That simple touch sent a wave of butterflies through his veins, making him shake and choke back a sob.

(Name) promptly took notice of this and sat down beside him, her eyes kind and a warm, welcoming smile on her face.

“You can cry, it’s okay to. Please look at me,” and he did, with tears finally spilling down his face, his cheeks flushed and the muscles of his chin trembling, making his lips quiver. His right hand clutched at hers as if his life depended on it, while his left was clenched in a fist, the knuckles slowly going white. (Name) worriedly moved closer to him, letting her free hand wander behind his head to untie his hair and run her fingers through it.

Tell me everything.

“I am... I don’t know. Fuck, I don’t deserve you-“ a stifled sob, and then he sharply inhaled, “You were waiting for me, but I was here. Being a useless dick even if they wanted to help. I just...” he suddenly stopped, allowing smaller sobs to escape from his parted, soft lips. The girl moved her hand from his hair to his back, pulling him closer so that his head could rest on her shoulder.

Slightly embarrassed by this position as she was the one usually laying her head on his shoulder, he tried to pull away, but her soothing touch and whispers sent a shiver up his spine and made him hold onto her for dear life, weeping and babbling about how he didn’t deserve her, about how he would miss her though if she left, and she thought she heard him say I’m sorry once or twice –and he’d rarely apologize-.

(Name) held him tight, noticing how quiet he was even while shaking and sobbing almost uncontrollably, wetting her cute, slightly elegant shirt. Not that she cared anyway, he was much more important than a stupid shirt.  

“Leo,” she whispered at some point, making him blink, more tears rolling down his reddened cheeks, “You deserve so much and you don’t even realize it. I know you blame yourself for a lot of things...” he raised his head, his hair gracefully cascading down his back; their eyes met and (Name) gave him a small smile, which he returned, “But not everything’s your fault.”

He averted his gaze, his breath slowly calming and his shoulders relaxing.

“Hm. Just promise... this whole thing will stay between us,”

She chuckled, and shifted in a more comfortable position so that they could be even closer.

“Of course; now will you eat breakfast with me?”