#school and home life are too much to handle so i skip school

[anaalnathrakhs]

love this part of my life where the things that are difficult but challenging and good for me are things i can stop and skip and halfass, but the things that are difficult and painful and pointless are the things i have to live with no matter what

[vnti-vntiety-recs]

GUARDIAN GLOVES (M)

★  PAIRING: Boxer! Jeno x Reader 

☆ WORD COUNT: 12k

★ GENRE(S): Brother’s Bestfriend AU, Childhood Friend AU?, Smut

☆ SUMMARY:  No matter how badly you want to start over, your rebellious past follows you to college, and you can't run from it forever Your brother Jaemin was your rock growing up, but now that he has left for an out-of-state university, he can no longer save you. You do not want to burden your brother's best friend, but he might be the only one who can save you from the person of your past who refuses to let you go.

★ ☆ WARNINGS: Unprotected sex, sexual intercourse, fighting, harassment, and stalking, mentions of violence, guns and drugs, abusive relationships.

☆★ NOTES: Read with caution, please; some scenes can be intense. Leave nice comments, please <3 

It was a mistake; you knew it was a mistake; your brother and friends both told you so. Now, due to the enormous amounts of red flags you have ignored, you have found yourself in some hot water. What can you say? Love makes you blind.

“You cant keep putting up with this! We need to do something,” your friend Ryujin stressed “This has been going on for too long; im scared something serious might happen” You were worried that wrinkles might form from how much shes been furrowing her brow.

“Im fine! Its not even that serious, ok? Just drop it,” you say, sitting on your bed with your head buried in your hands as your roommate paced the dorm room. You had never seen her so upset. 

“No! I will not sit here while my best friend gets harassed! We need to report this!”

“We are NOT reporting this ryu; that will only make things worse.” you sigh before sitting back to look your friend dead in the eyes

“He pushed you down the stairs!?” 

“It was a mistake!”

You met Yuta during your junior year of high school. He was your typical run-of-the mill bad boy; he skipped classes, hung out late, and got high. You knew he was trouble, but that was what you wanted. You grew up rebellious; you were young and dumb. You just wanted attention, and hanging with the wrong crowd got you plenty. You felt unstoppable when you were with Yuta and his crew. When Yuta would parade you around school in your too-short skirt and pretty long legs, you felt special; you felt wanted. Your friends hated him, and they hated what you became. You didn’t listen to their warnings, and you stuck around. 

You stuck around even when skipped classes turned into stolen cars and the weed highs turned into selling. You were stupid to think you could keep up with his lifestyle. You just wanted to piss your family off. You were used to bad boys, but Yuta was something else. 

She takes a deep breath, trying to calm herself “Look, he's clearly getting bold; I'm afraid he’ll seriously hurt you!” 

“Please, drop it,” you beg in exhaustion. Its been a long day. You had classes all day, and with your yuta problem, you found yourself getting tired a lot faster. You had to turn in his class work on top of yours, which resulted in more time spent in the library. You had been getting home later and later. 

“What about Jaemin? Have you told him? You know he would do anything for you.”

Your brother left for college the year before you. You couldn't ask him to fight your battles  anymore. He got a full ride and was off in another state, living his life, while you were at home bawling your eyes out over the fact that the heartbreaking bad boy broke your heart. 

You had finally broken up with Yuta when you realized he was cheating on you. You should have seen it coming, honestly, The day you checked his phone and found the messages, he didnt even try to pretend like he cared. He had been talking to several other girls while he was with you. You felt so stupid, and that was your last straw. Let us just say he was not happy about it, and he and his friends have been harassing you since.

“That's exactly why I can't tell him; I don't need him flying out just to take care of my issues; I can handle them on my own. He's got his own life; he can't afford any more distractions.”

Your brother was practically your hero growing up. Whenever you were in trouble, he was by your side to protect you. Even though he was really only your stepbrother, he didn’t love you any less. You would always be his little sister.

 Jaemin had been in and out of the boxing ring for years. Bad boyfriends weren't anything new to you or him; he was the one who typically kept them in check. You were the main reason he picked up fighting; he knew, as your older brother, it was his job to protect you, and he would do it to his last breath. He tried to warn you about Yuta, but you didn't listen. You knew he would drop anything if it meant coming to your aid, but you couldn't ask that of him. 

You also know he would never let you live it down. 

You thought once high school was over, you would finally be able to escape Yuta’s torment, but he followed you to your new school. Your brother warned you about him, and now he's not here to protect you anymore. 

"Ok, what about Jeno?” She states hesitantly,

“Absolutely NOT!” you scowl, throwing yourself back into the sheets to hide under the covers

“Yes! Jaemin literally told you to go to him if you need anything! He probably knew you would be too proud to contact him if you were in trouble.”

You sit back up and throw the covers off of you. “It’s not his problem! I got myself into this mess. I'll get myself out, ok?” you state firmly

"Fine, you know what fine, its getting late I’m heading to bed…but I swear if he—”

"Ok, Ryujin, thanks really,” you say sincerely. You could never be mad at Ryujin; she was only looking out for you, and you knew she meant well. For all that it was worth, you knew she would always have your back. She would run head-first into battle for you.

You could definitely be mad at Ryujin. In fact, you've been upset for the last hour.

She promised a surprise for you; she said she wanted to take you somewhere to take your mind off of the whole Y*ta situation. Honestly, you were grateful to be getting out of the house; you had been limiting yourself to only going to classes. You were trying your hardest to not run into him. 

You make sure to dress prettily. You were just too excited to finally have a reason to dress up again. You were so excited, you didn't even blink at the all-too-familiar signs and buildings as Ryujin pulled into the parking lot of a run-down boxing gym.

It's not until you have walked into the threshold and over to the rusty sideline benches that you feel overdressed and out of place. Your eyes scan the room, and everything feels so familiar yet out of place that you feel stupid for not realizing sooner.

As your eyes take in the old tattered banners and boxing ring, you realize you were walked blind into your brother's old gym. He and Jeno used to come here all the time to spar and train. This place used to run official matches and business, but it went bankrupt and had to close. Now it was just a place that hosted underground fighting. 

You knew what this was about, and you were upset that Ryujin fooled you into coming. You crossed your arms protectively over your chest, and you had hungry eyes staring at you from each angle.

“You...are... insane,” you hissed at her in anger after you two got settled in your seats. 

“And you are a coward. I'm sorry I lied Ok, but we need his help,” she contests

“You just walked me into a den full of hungry wolves. We're gonna need a lot more than help now!” You whisper harshly.

"Oh, come on, you know jeno’s not gonna let anything happen to you”

It was as if saying his name aloud summoned him; the next thing you know, he is in the ring.

You can't help but hold your breath at the sight. He had grown since the last time you saw him, and you didn't even think that was possible. His face was more refined and sculpted, and his arms were toned with muscles. His shoulders would have had you drooling if it weren’t for the perdicament you were in. They were broad and covered in cuts and bruises, much like the rest of his body. His body relaxes as he shakes away his nerves. He was standing in one corner of the ring, while his opponent stood menacingly at the other end. You think you hear the announcer call out his name—was it Jaehyung? Jaehyoon? Something like that.

You try to duck your head, not wanting to be seen, but you stand out like a sore thumb. As Jeno finished up his quick stretches, his eyes somehow wandered to you. First comes shock, then confusion, and as he rakes his eyes over your outfit, he’s overcome with anger.

Tonight was going to be a long night.

You could hear the scolding now…

”it's too cold to be wearing that”

“it's too dangerous for you to be here”

“This isn't some show; don't bring your friends here”

It wasn't even your fault you were here! You already knew he was not going to hear any of that, though.

He fixes you with a stare that says, “We’ll talk later,” and you groan in annoyance.

Before you can even open your mouth to give Ryujin another piece of your mind, the match begins and draws your attention back to the ring.

Jeno sizes up his opponent as they circle each other, looking for openings. His opponent, Jae Something, was twice his size, and honestly, you were a little afraid for Jenos sake. Jae was inpatient and struck first. Jenos weaves left and holds his guard strong. Jeno played the defense; he was patient, and you find that his fighting style was the mirror opposite of his personality. Even though Jeno had a tendency to lose his temper, it was fascinating to watch him change when he stepped into the ring. He moved with poise and thoughtfulness at every turn. 

Jenos patience rewarded him and he saw an opening In his opponents gaurd. He struck Jae, causing him to stumble back on unsecure footing. This allowed jeno to push his opponent back and switch to offense. Jae was already worn out, and Jeno used this to his advantage, knocking him down and out after hounding him with jabs and hooks.

Jeno was an endurance fighter; his goal wasn't to win through brutality but by outlasting his opponent in a fight.

You were amazed at how far he had come. He was a skilled fighter, as he always had been, but now, after years of honing his craft, you could see he was nothing like the boy you knew before.

The match was over and you were brought back to reality as you realized just what kind of scene you were in. This was an illegal boxing match, and now that it was over, the illegal part really started to stand out. Bets had been placed on the matches before hand and were now being fulfilled. Money was being passed around, and some exchanges even turned aggressive. You knew Jeno had probably wanted you to stick around for your lashings, but this was your queue to get the fuck out of there. You grab Ryujin's hand and try to lead her away from the ever-increasingly aggravated crowd. You navigate through groups of people as you hurry towards the exit. 

On your way, you trip over your stupid heels that Ryujin convinced you to wear and accidentally bump shoulders with someone. You find your footing and apologize. You try to walk away, pulling Ryujin behind you, but feel a rough hand on your shoulder pulling you back.

“Where do you think your going?” a gravelly voice calls out.

“I already apologized; let me go,” you grit out, trying to pull away from the man. He was a little bit taller than you and was twice your age. You noticed the wad of cash in one of his hands and the sickishly sweet smile on his face, and you figured he must have placed a winning bet.

“Don't be like that; how about I take you and your friend here out and we go somewhere private” he says while flashing his money. “Of course you'll have to work for it if you want a tip,” he says repulsively.

From the corner of your eye, you see Jeno pushing through the crowd. The look on his face gives you the chills. 

“Don’t be scared, baby; I don't bite,” the man says. 

Oh, you’re not scared of him; your scared for him.

You know what's coming before it happens, and the man is on the ground in seconds. His money flits through the air before joining him on the ground. The man is clutching his face, and before Jeno can get his hands on him again, men dressed in all black pull the man to his feet and drag him out. You figured they must have been something like security. 

Everything happens so fast, but all you know is that you and Ryujin are both being pulled by an angry Jeno deeper into the building into some back room. Ryujin looks a bit shaken, but you assure her everything is okay now.

 It was dark and chilly in the room. The cement walls offered no warmth as you stood in the middle of what you assumed to be an old locker room. The back of the building was really coming apart; water leaked from the ceiling, and it smelled like mildew. No one really occupies the space anymore. 

Now occupying the space were Jeno,currently trying to reel in his nerves as he drags a hand down his face; Ryujin, shifting from one foot to another awkwardly; and you, who crossed your arms definitely over your chest as you waited for Jeno’s reprimanding.

“You know what I'm going to say,” he huffs.

“I'm sorry, it's really not her fault I'm the one who drug her here; I didn't realize how dangerous it would be” Ryujin tried to defend you, but she didn't know Jeno like you did. He wasnt one for excuses.

“Who are you?” He asks dismissively.  

Jeno had never met Ryujin before. Ryujin had only heard about him through the stories you would tell her about growing up with him and your brother.

“Im a friend; we didn’t come here without a reason we wanted to—” She says but doesnt get to finish

"Jeno, dont be rude. She was only trying to help.” You interrupt. You could not have her bring that up now; you needed his attention back on you. 

“I'm sorry, Ryujin. Can you give us a moment?” He sighs in apology.

Ryujin gives you a look but takes the hint and doesn't push the topic again. She reluctantly walks to the door and waits outside the room. 

Once the door shuts behind her, Jeno wastes no time telling you off. “I dont know why your here or whats going on but you need to leave. You know better than this,” he scolds

You wanted to jump off a cliff. This is absolutely not how you wanted to meet him again. You had imagined this meeting a thousand times in your head. When you finally reconnected, you were supposed to show him how mature you had gotten. This whole fiasco definitely sets you back 10 steps. 

“I wouldn't be here …I wouldn't be dressed like this if I had known we would end up here. It was a mistake. We'll leave, ok?" You say arms crossed and closed off as you dig your heel into the ground.

Even after all this time, he still had a soft spot for you. No matter how hard he tried to be stern with you, one look at the pout on your face made him feel bad. He walks over and closes the small distance between you two. He engulfs you in a hug, and you’re reminded of home. He reminds you so much of your past that it makes you nostalgic. He kisses the top of your head affectionately and lets go, and you’re reminded just how smelly and musty he is as his sticky skin peels from yours.

“Gross,” you grumble

“I think you'll live,” he jokes with a smile. He's a lot calmer now. He leans down to meet your gaze “I'm sorry for being hard on you; I was just worried. You popped up out of nowhere after all this time.

It was so easy to fall back in step with him. You want to tell him everything; all you want is for him to fix everything, but you are no longer that little girl, and you are determined to prove it. 

You’re deep in thought when he asks, “Is everything OK, Storm?”

Your heart skips a beat at the nickname; you haven't heard that in awhile. He's always called you that; when you asked him why, he told you it was because you would stir up so much trouble wherever you went, growing up like a storm. It may have sounded negative, but he didn’t mean it like that. He always said it affectionately. 

“I'm fine; Ryujin brought me here because I said I missed home. She wanted to take me around to some familiar places. I guess she didn't know what really went down at this place” You try to cover up the truth.

Your campus wasn't too far from your hometown, and you go home almost every weekend, but hopefully Jeno doesn’t know that and buys the story. 

He looks a bit sceptical. "Lately, its been hard to come by you,” he says “Are you sure your not in any trouble?”

"I've just been busy with school; its nothing really,” you explain.

He just nods, and you know he does not believe it, but he doesn’t pry either. “Lets get you home; it's getting late” 

When you open the door, Ryujin falls forward, clearly listening in and she gives you a sheepish smile. You grab her arm and pull her along as jeno personally escorts you out and to ryujin's car.

He holds your door open for you and watches as you clamber inside before buckling your seat belt and closing your door for you. You internally groan in annoyance. He was never going to see you as anything but the 7th grade version of you that he first met. The girl needed her brother to save her from herself. 

You are grown now!

He can practically see the words printed on your forehead as he huckles to himself. He didn’t care; he would always take care of you, no matter how much you hated him for it.

 He motions for you to roll down the window before leaning into the car and caressing your face affectionately with his rough, bruised hand. You decide right then that you would never let him get hurt for your sake. He’s fought enough.

 “If you need anything, call, ok?” He says this before drawing his hand back. You don't respond, and he quirks an eyebrow.

"Ok,” You grumble 

“You have my number, right?”

“Yes!” You say a bit louder in annoyance.

"Ok, ok, I'm just checking, you never reach out, I just want to make sure your okay,” he continues 

“Actually, can I take your number? I'm practically her guardian now. I'll make sure to keep you updated if she needs anything” Your friend butts in with a smile.

Jeno happily gives her his number, and you just sit in the passenger seat like a child, watching as your parents fuss over you.

You are grown now!

Mondays are the worst days of the week, not because you have to go back to classes. You loved class, you loved learning and you loved your teachers. It wasn’t until college that you found out that you really enjoyed learning. Yuta would have definitely laughed at you if you told him that in high school. 

Yuta was the reason you hated Mondays. Mondays were the worst because they meant no more hiding. You couldn't stay in all day; you had to go to class, and that meant running into the devil. You were lucky enough to only have one class with Yuta, and that class only met on Mondays. 

You find your way to your seat at the back of the class, hoping to hide away from him, but you know he will find you. You felt his presence as he slipped into the seat next to you. 

“Morning doll, did you get my text?” 

You hated when he texted you; it was always a disturbing photo. Last time you opened a text from him, it was a video of him fucking some girl in a dark alleyway. In the video, he made the girl drop to her knees and open her mouth. He pressed the barrel of his gun into her mouth and made her suck it off. ‘Wish this was you’ was the text he sent after the video.

Since then, you have made it a point not to open his texts, but it seems like he wasn't going to let this one go.

“I’ve been busy; i hadnt had the chance to”

"Well, that's no good doll; why don't you open it now?” he smirks wickedly.

“I dont think—”

“Open it,” The playfulness slips off of his face and replaced with seriousness 

You never noticed it before, but Yuta could be terrifying. He never showed this side to you before, but your certain this was the side everyone else saw. He made a promise to follow you to the end of the earth, and so far he has kept true to it. 

He had gone from being your high school’s bad boy to the campus’s star athlete. Yuta had completely rebranded himself after graduation, and it made it even harder to report him. No one would believe you. He would just spin the story and make you out to be some bitter ex, making up lies to try to ruin his college career.

With shaky hands, you unlock your phone and go to your messages, clicking on the conversation with the unsaved number attached to it. There, you find a video waiting for you. You turn your volume all the way down and hit play. This time, it was a video of you a few nights ago, exiting the gym with Ryujin and Jeno. The camera work was shaky, and it seemed to have been taken from behind a car or a bushr? You couldnt tell but your heart was beating outside your chest.

Your eyes are glued to the screen as you feel a firm hand caress your tense shoulder until it grips the back of your neck. "Now why does it look like my doll is cheating” You freeze in place as your mouth hangs open. “Who is that?” he asks.

You had no idea he was following you. How long had he been following you? The grip on your neck tightens.

“Answer me,” he whispers cruelly, his eyes darkening with rage.

“He’s no one” tears well up in your eyes. Ryujin was right; this was getting out of hand.

“Let me catch you with him again; I'll make you regret it,” he whispers. He kisses the side of your head and breathes in the scent of your shampoo. He releases you, and you release the breath you had been holding. 

You can barely pay attention to anything your professor is saying; you just stare blankly at the front of the room.

You sent Ryujin a text to meet you in the library. You hated to dump all of this on her but you had to talk to someone. You could already tell she was frustrated with you about the situation, but she was the only one you could confide in. With her around, you didn't feel so alone in this. 

“He did what?!”

“Its ok, if I do what he says, everything will be fine; i have it under control,” you reply sheepishly

“No! You need to report his creepy ass to the cops!” she yells in disbelief.

“Keep it down; we’re in a library,” you remind her

“Dont try to change the subject,” she whispers 

“I'll figure this out” 

“We will figure this out.” she says, grabbing your hand and giving it a supportive squeeze.

When she lets go of your hand, hers slip under the table. You don't see it, but she’s texting someone, typing furiously before hitting send.

You try not to be mad at Ryujin, but you can't believe she went behind your back and snitched. Now, here in front of you, sits the last man on earth that you want to worry. Ryujin mouths a sorry and sends you an apologetic look. Jeno had arrived about ten minutes earlier, and he looked to be trying to keep his calm before confronting the matter.

“Is this some intervention?” you joke to lighten the mood. 

“Ryujin told me everything; do you think this is a joke?” He questioned, trying to stay patient with you. “Why didnt you tell me sooner”

You sigh, feeling ashamed. Everything was always so tense between you two. You had grown apart over the years, and it was difficult to think he was once like a second brother to you. But time was not the only factor to blame; high school also played a part. Puberty changed everything. It changed you, it changed jeno, and it definitely changed how you felt towards him. You had such a massive crush on him in high school that even your brother found it hard to ignore. You made Jaemin swear to secrecy and never tell a soul. If you had known Ryujin was going to call Jeno, you would have sucked it up and reached out to your brother.

You didn’t want Jeno to get involved. You kept telling yourself you didn't want him to get hurt, but you had to be honest with yourself. There was another reason you didn't want to ask for his help, and it was because you were still embarrassed. Anything was better than sitting in front of the man who rejected you. 

Summer freshman year of highschool

You thought you had finally grown up in his eyes; you thought your newfound curves were enough to make him see you as more than “Jaem’s little sister.” You thought you could fool yourself into believing you had a chance. 

It wasnt abnormal for jeno to sleep over at your place during highschool. He would crash in Jaemin’s room and eat breakfast with your family, like he lived there. One night, you catch him alone and tell him how you feel. You waited for him outside the bathroom. He was showering, and you were certain your brother was too engulfed in his game to interrupt you. Jeno had exited the bathroom wearing sweats and a tanktop, drying his hair with a towel. He had almost walked right by, not noticing you. You stood in front of him wearing a similar white tanktop and sleeping shorts, your nipples poking through the fabric of your shirt. You were so sure you would have his attention, but he just tentatively acknowledged you.

“Im sorry, was i taking too long?” he asked apologetically

"No, i actually wanted to talk to you about something”

He just nods his head and waits for you to continue

“I really like you, and I was hoping I could spend more time with you... just uh… the two of us,” you said shyly, unable to find the right words.

You couldnt meet his eye and stare at a random spot on the carpet

You felt a gentle hand stroke your head affectionately. You look up, hopefully but your world comes crashing down with his next few words

“Your like a sister to me; of course we can hang out more,” he smiles brightly, unknowingly ripping your heart out

Ever since that night, you have avoided him like the plague.

‘I just didn't want to worry you or jaem.” you say, ashamed.

“I won't tell him but if you think I'm going to sit back and let this happen, your wrong”

“I didn’t think it was that much of an issue yet.” you say, picking at your sleeves.

Jenos eyes harden with disbelief  “Are you serious? Not much of an issue?” he grits “Hes threatening you”

"Ok, ok, your right; I shouldn't be taking this lightly” You try to soothe things over with a weak smile.

“Give me your phone,” he says, holding out his hand

You unlock it and hand it to him, unsure of what he's going to do. After messing around with it, he hands it back. “I blocked him; dont even think about texting him again.” he warns

“Jeno! I have to; hes going to be pissed!” You take your phone back, looking through your messages, but you’re unable to find the conversation again. You didn't realize how much control he had over you. You thought all you had to do was follow his orders, and you would be alright; one day he would just get bored of you and stop. 

“Don't you hear yourself? Your scared!” he yells. He hated seeing you like this. He promised Jaemin that he would watch after you, but here he was, blind to the cruelty that you had endured. “Once this is all over, I'm telling Jaem.” 

(¬_¬) snitch 

He gets up, preparing to leave, while both you and Ryujin stare at each other. Well, you glare at her while she communicates a response with her eyes in return. He doesn’t turn to leave before saying one last thing: “Keep your phone on you at all times, and I'll be walking you from your classes from here on out,” he states sternly. 

“I dont know if that’s a good idea; he told me not—”

“Are you more afraid of him or me?” he asks you

Point taken.

You wait until Jeno is out of earshot before you whisper yell at your friend, “I told you not to tell him!”

“I had to! I was worried”

"Well, great, now he's worried and probably thinks I'm an irresponsible idiot!”

"Well, you are,” she counters, “whats your deal anyway? You seriously think Yuta is just going to leave you alone? He's gonna end up killing you!” she scolds.

You take a moment to process her words. She had a point, but she didn't know Yuta like you did; neither of them did. He was dangerous. You just wanted to keep your friends safe, but you might have gotten in over your head.

You finally make it to your destination; you drove to the old gym, hoping to find Jeno. You could have called or texted him, but you knew it would be easier to get your point across in person. You had at least wanted to let him know what he was getting himself into. Yuta was dangerous, and no matter how strong Jeno was, he wasn't bulletproof.

You park your cute little beetle and cringe; you definitely didn't belong in this scene, and everyone around was going to know it. A sticker-bombed Volkswagen Beetle in the middle of the parking lot of a broken-down and shady gym? Perfect combo!

Luckily, there were only a few cars tonight. You figured it must not be fight night, and you prayed that you found Jeno inside. You gather up your courage and march inside. You make your way down a narrow hallway that opens up into the main gym, and that's where you find him. There were a few other fighters occupying the space, but they seemed to be wrapping up. Jeno must not be the only one who comes here to let off steam, you assume. 

"Oh, who's this cute thing?” one of the guys says as you catch his eye on his way out.

“I wouldn't do that if I were you Haechan; thats Jenos Girl,” another voice says, coming up behind him before slinging an arm over his shoulder. “Excuse him,” he says politely before pulling Haechan away and scolding him.

The one that wasn’t Haechan was there the night Jeno punched that weirdo out. Apparently the whole gym knew you as Jeno’s girl, according to his rambling. Their arguing fades away and the last thing you hear before complete silence is “Get off me Renjun your musty”

You laugh to yourself before scanning the room, and you bring your eyes back to the man nestled in the corner. He's facing a punching bag with his hands tightly wrapped and his headphones secure on his head. He wasn't still for a second, staying light on his feet as he threw a few hooks at the bag. 

You were almost afraid to accidentally sneak up on him because that would not end well. You stay cautious and keep a safe distance, choosing to call his name a few times to get his attention. Your practically screaming, but he can't hear you. You wonder what brand of headphones he had because that noise cancellation was crazy! You choose a different approach and spot a disregarded boxing glove on a side table. You walk the short distance, grab the item and chunk it at the back of Jeno’s head. 

Now clearly, you weren’t trying to poke a bear. You were aiming more towards his broad shoulders, given that was a better target, but your aim was off, and you almost knocked the expensive-looking headphone off his head.

Jeno whips around angrily, opening his mouth to curse, but stops himself short once he notices you. He settles for a deep, exasperated sigh and a sharp glare. He must have been at it for awhile because he was drenched in sweat, and his bangs hung messily in his eyes and were dripping sweat. He pushed the wet hair back from his eyes, showing his forehead. He looked so good when he was angry; his eyes were narrowed dangerously, and his chest heaved heavily.

“Why are you fucking with me?” He says this, coldly pulling his headphones off his ears and letting them hang around his neck "You better have a good reason for being here when there is a psycho after you. I clearly remember telling you to stay away from this place?” 

Oh yeah, you definitely poked the bear. Hes pissed.

“Are you sure you want to get involved?” You try to find your words. “Yuta isnt like the little boys you and jaemin used to beat up in highschool”

“You could never keep yourself out of trouble, huh?”

“I'm not asking for your help!”

“Drop the act for once, would you? Your not tough so stop acting like it!”

“I’m not being tough; I just don't want to be a bother! I'm not the same kid! When I’m falling, you always save me, and I'm sick of it. I'm sick of being weak. I don't need your help, so why don’t you drop the older brother act? Your barely even older than me!” You pitch back

“Jaemin told me to look out for you so thats what im doing,” he huffs 

“And that's your only reason, right? Your just looking out for me because my brother said so” you scoff, trying to keep the hurt out of your voice. " How about this? I take you in the ring and show you what I got. Let me show you I can take care of myself” You cross your arms and send him a defiant look.

“Are you seriously—” he cuts himself off, shaking his head in disbelief “You know what fine. Show me what you got”

You smile in triumph and walk over to the center of the gym, where the ring sits. You take off your shoes and crawl inside. The mat felt cool under your feet; it was a grounding sensation, and just once you understood why Jeno loved standing in it, even if it meant fighting. You scan the gym, and memories fill in all the rust, broken pipes and holes in the wall as you remember what the gym used to be. Your stuck in a trance until you feel something soft but firm hit you in the head, knocking you from your daydream.

“That was payback…. but you also need to be mindful of your surroundings. Not starting off so well, angel,” Jeno says, shaking his head as he adjusts the punching mitts over his hands. 

You’re brought back to the present and finally notice the boxing gloves at your feet. You get the memo and put them on. 

“This can't be too hard,” you mutter to yourself.

Your both centered in the ring and you focus on jenos movements. You grew up being dragged to almost all of your brother's matches; you figured you had watched long enough to catch on to some moves. You throw a punch at Jenos mitt, and he cushions the blow. He lets you get comfortable throwing a few punches before he counters. He makes his movements very big and obvious; you can see his strike from a mile away. You weave under it and throw a punch at his gaurding mitt. 

Hes going easy on you

You continue to spar, and Jeno is in full coach mode. He's guiding you in the correct stance and helping you learn what to look for when someone strikes. You've been at it for about 30 minutes now, and you've gotten faster at dodging and reading his movements. He’s still going extremely easy on you, but upping the ante just a little. You were completely absorbed in the lesson.

“Nice hook, put you jab lacks power,” he instructs.

You were good at putting your body into your hooks, but you just couldn't build enough momentum for a strong jab. You try again, but it falls flat, and Jeno shakes his head. 

“Follow through; come on, try it again,” he encourages you. You take a breath and send a jab into his mitt. Still not enough. 

Jeno takes off the mitts and moves in closer towards you.

"Here, watch me,” he says, raising his gaurd and striking the air. “You want to step into it, see?” He shows you again, a little bit slower.

You give a determined hum and copy his movement, but you can tell by Jeno’s face that you're missing the mark. 

"Ok, come here; let me show you” Jeno moves in behind you and grabs your arms. He helps you fix your posture and you instantly heat up at the contact. You try to keep it together, but the way his chest was pressed up against your back and the way he was breathing heavily in your ear had you reeling. "Ok, now focus, step into it and jab.” 

He moves one hand down to your waist and pushes you forward, guiding your step, while the other helps you jab. He was so close. You wanted to blame the sudden weakness in your limbs on the endless training he has you doing, but you know its from the heat of his body.

“Are you okay? That one was really weak. Are you shaking?” Jeno looks at you from over your shoulder, worried. 

You meet his gaze and nod silently. He's so close. His lips are a breath away, and all you have to do is turn your head to meet his lips. The hand holding your waist travels up your side and grabs your chin. He tilts your head up a little, and his lips are meeting yours. You turn in his grasp and kiss him back. His lips are so soft, and when you pull away, you immediately miss the feeling of his lips on yours. 

“I'm sorry; I shouldn't have done that,” he says softly.

Before you can protest, he pulls away from you, cleans up the equipment you two used, and calls it a night. You let him walk you to your car, and you say nothing before you drive away. If it wasn't awkward before, it definitely would be now.

How could he kiss you and then pretend like nothing happened? You’re too embarrassed to bring it up again. Does this count as being rejected for a second time? Nah, he kissed you; you're not taking another L. 

It had been a week so far, and Jeno had shown up promptly to all your classes. He shouldered your bags and carried your books as you both walked across campus. Neither of you brought up the kiss, but fortunately, it wasn't awkward anymore. He had started teaching you to defend yourself at the gym sometimes after class. Those moments felt the most intimate. You could feel his passion when he taught you, and it warmed you in all the right places. You two talked about everything in these moments. You shared embarrassing memories from high school, and he told you stories about Jaemin that you would never let your brother live down. You talked about everything but the kiss. You wonder if he regretted it?

The funny thing about college was that the classrooms were so big and there were so many students that it was hard to keep track of who was who. That's how Jeno ended up in you’re lecture every Monday. It was the only class you had with Yuta, and Jeno wasn’t taking any chances. You told him it wasn't a good idea, and the eyes burning into the back of your head were proof of that. Jeno was by your side the entire period, and to onlookers, you two probably looked like a couple. He had scooted your chair directly next to him and was practically shoulder to shoulder with you. 

“Back up; I can feel you breathing down my neck” 

“I want to see what your doing”

Jeno didn't go to college. He mainly just worked during the day and fought on the weekends for extra cash. His parents were absent for the most part, and he kind of took care of himself growing up. He didn't really have a support system growing up, and that was one of the main reasons he found himself at your house. The only other place he felt safe was the gym. You could only imagine how devastated he was when it shut down. You can understand why he decided to stick around when things turned shady. Jeno earned enough money to support himself, so he never felt the need to go to college, which is why Jaemin didn't feel to bad about dumping you off on his shoulder.

“I can't concentrate Jen,” you scold.

He spends half the class peaking over your shoulder as you work and the other half asleep on the desk. Some guard dog he was.

Yuta didn't bother you during class anymore, and you were grateful. You could finally focus on bringing your grades back up, but you couldn't shake the feeling that he was plotting against you the entire time. After class, he would hang out in the library or, if you had a long day, the gym before returning to pick you up.

Later that day, Jeno was supposed to meet you after your econ class, which was your last class of the day, but you were surprised to not see him silently leaning up against the wall opposite the door. You try your best to calm your nerves as you try to decide if you should wait for him or not. You tried not to freak out; he was probably fine. Maybe he thought you could handle walking yourself home for once; you couldn't expect him to be there all the time. Not to mention you hadn't run into Yuta anywhere other than class.  

Your last class ends late, and the sun has already gone down, so you were really reluctant to leave without Jeno. You try your best to channel the old you, the one that ran with bad crowds, the one who feared no one and nothing, and the newer you, who had trained with Jeno and learned how to protect yourself. You put on your best face and begin trekking home.

As you walked, you realized It wasn't so bad; you had honestly forgotten how nice it felt to just walk around by yourself and clear your head. You were enjoying your walk home, and you were about two blocks from your dorm when you felt something in the air shift. Suddenly, you didn't feel so alone. You try to pick up your pace as subtly as possible and pull your phone from your bag. You dial Jeno’s number with quickness and wait for him to pick it up. You can feel the person behind you’s steps quicken. 

Come on, please

You beg internally as you break out into a small jog. Screw being subtle; someone was clearly following you. You didn’t dare chance a look over your shoulder as you cut across a lawn; his phone went to voicemail, and you dialed again. The person behind you is right on your heels and you drop your phone as a firm hand grabs your arm. Your first reflex is to scream, but you remember Jenos teachings: you jab your elbow as hard as you can into the attacker's ribs. Your about to break his grip when you hear a familiar groan. You turn around to look at your attacker, and you notice its just Jeno.

He's looking at you with a worried expression, like he didn't just chase you for a full block.

“What are you doing!?” 

“I was trying to catch up to you!” He lets you go and holds his ribs, groaning in pain.

“Why didn't you pick up weirdo? I thought someone was going to get me!”

“I was running late and left my phone at home; I thought you would at least wait for me,” he states

You calm your nerves and sign in relief. You shake off your backpack and shove it into his chest.

“Dont be late again; what if something had happened”

“You know I would never let anything happen to you, right?” His eyebrows furrow, and he looks into your eyes. He needs you to know that he would throw down everything to make sure you were okay.

“I know that” Your heart skips a beat, and he grabs your hand reassuringly. You were grateful for the night sky because you could feel your face heating up.

"Good,” 

You finally arrive at your off-campus dorm and make your way inside. Your roommate didn't seem to be home yet; typically, she came home late because she had to work late at her job so you were grateful for the time you had alone with jeno. 

It isn't until he sets your things down and you flick on a few lights that you see a few bruises and cuts on his face. It was not surprising to see Jeno bruised up, given his fighting background, but these appeared to be from a recent fight. When he notices your gaze, he turns to hide his face and begins unpacking your bag and arranging your study materials.

Jeno had insisted a few days ago that he stick around a little after he drops you off. He insisted it was for your protection so you guys started studying together. Well, you started studying; Jeno just watched you or took a nap next to you on the sofa. 

“We should start soon; it's getting late,” he says, trying to redirect your attention.

You refuse to let it go though and move in closer to get a better look. “Who did this?” you say as you gently caress his face, moving it around to examine the damage

“I had a match the other—”

“Don't lie to me,” you urge

“He sent some guys after me,” jeno confesses

Your heart drops. This is exactly why you didn’t want him to get involved. Its like he can read your thoughts because he immediately tries to ease your worry.

“Calm down; this is nothing. You know me, I can hold my own,” he says

You didn't respond.

“I took care of them; you dont have to worry”

You stare at him incredulously “Is that why you were late today?” 

"Maybe,” he winces

“Jeno!” you scold. “Was Yuta there?”

“I tried to look for him after, but apparently he had an away game tonight,” he answers. 

“Let me clean you up” 

Jeno wasn't that much taller than you, probably just a few inches, but you found it easier to work on the cuts on his face by sitting on the counter. You already had your materials prepped; you kept a first aid kit on hand at all times; it was a habit you couldn't shake. This wasn't the first time you found yourself in this position with Jeno; you had always cleaned him and your brother up during childhood. You felt terrible; you worked in a silence that Jeno kept trying to break. Anytime he would open his mouth to speak, you would dab at his lip with more ointment to shut him up until he got the memo. He kept trying to cheer you up and you werent in the mood

He winces at your touch, and you immediately let up and give a short apology. You go back in with a lighter hand and add a bandage. As many punches as he takes, you would think a little peroxide wouldn't hurt. You were done fixing him up, and you busy yourself with putting your kit back together, ignoring the eyes that bore into you. You wanted to leave and put some distance between you but he wouldnt step from between your legs. 

“Hey, look at me.” he calls out to you. 

You could not bring yourself to look at him; each scar on his face reminded you that it was your fault that he was hurt. 

“Its not your fault” its like he was reading your mind.

"Yes, it is! I shouldnt have gotten you involved! I should have just called Jaem.”

“You would rather see Jaemin beat up?” He jokes, trying to lighten the mood.

“He would have at least deserved it,” you say, rolling your eyes and thinking of all the times he tormented you growing up.

A comfortable silence falls between you two after sharing a laugh. He was so close, but you reached out like he was going to disappear. You tentatively caress his bruised cheek; he leans into your touch, and the look he gives you gives you butterflies. He looked at you like you were the most precious thing in the world. 

“I like being near you;  don’t push me away again”

"Jeno,” you say, shocked by his confession

“I dont want us to go back to the way things were I—

You push him away before jumping down from the counter; you don't want to hear anymore. You had a feeling you knew what he was getting at. After all this time and all the hurt, now he likes you!?

“You were the one who made it like this! Made US like this. I told you how I felt all those years ago, and you rejected me!” you argue

“What are you talking—”

“Drop it,” you demand, trying to leave the bathroom, but he stands in the doorway, blocking your path.

“What did you mean? When did I ever reject you?” Jeno tries, but you ignore his gaze until he grips your chin and forces you to look at him.

“Stop being like that and answer me.” he says.

You were tired of holding your tongue; you might as well get it over with. “Do you remember that time during highschool? When you stayed with us the whole summer?” you worry your lip. “I told you I liked you and you said I was like a sister to you,” you heave out in one big breathe

Jeno takes a moment to process your words, and he finally says, “I had no idea that was what you meant back then. I thought you hated me since I was always over. I thought the ‘I like you’ was more of an ‘I like you around’,” Jeno explains.

“Why would I hate you?” You ask in shock

“Jaemin used to always drag me around to scare off your boyfriends; I thought you might have hated me for that. You never really went out of your way to speak to me, I guess? I asked Jaemin if you hated me that same night, and he told me no. Then I ran into you in the hallway, and you suddenly told me you liked me, so I figured he told you to set things straight?” 

He wasn't wrong; back then, you kept to yourself and watched from afar. You hoped you could make him come to you. You were too scared to approach him, so you did everything you could to get his attention. You got into trouble, so he and Jaemin would have to come to your rescue. You dated all those guys to make him jealous. This whole time, you thought he couldn't care less about you, but it seems the whole time he was worried you hated him. 

"Well, that doesnt change the fact that you only see me like a little sister” 

“I kind of did, at first. You were my best friend, little sister, and I had to see you that way. Jaemin would kill me if I didn't. But I can't, not anymore. Truthfully, I never had.” He caressed your face and pressed his forehead against yours “I'm sorry if this is all confusing for you. I know it has been for me, but can we just try something?” He holds your eye contact, and your faces are so close that you can feel his breath. He smelled so good; the minty scent of his tooth paste mixed with the natural musk of his skin was driving you crazy. You had waited for a moment like this for almost forever.

“Anything; I'll do anything with you,” you say, almost forgetting to breathe.

He pushes you back and sets you on the counter again as he leans in and caresses your lips softly with his, teasing you like he has been doing for the past few years. You cannot take it anymore; you cannot wait anymore, so you take the dive. You press your lips fervently against his, causing him to hiss slightly from the sting, but when you try to pull back to apologize, he grips the back of your neck and reconnects your lips again. He moans into your mouth as you lick the cut on his lip, which will undoubtedly scar apologetically. You try to kiss him more gently but when he feels your hesitance, he pulls away just for a second to whisper, “don’t hold back”

Your hands find their way into his hair and his find their way under your thighs, hiking them up and around his waist. Things were getting heated fast, and you could hardly breathe. Everything you ever wanted was coming to fruition right in front of your eyes. When he finally pulls away to catch his breath, he does not waste any time kissing your neck. The force of his kisses makes you weak, and you have to lean against the mirror behind you to stay upright. 

You could hardly keep up; your limbs felt like they weighed a ton, and you could hardly hold your head up. The way he was rolling his hips into yours made your breath start to make condensation on the mirror as you laid your face on the cool glass. Jeno eventually found your lips again after his short exploration and claimed them hungrily.

“What's gotten into my baby? You can't handle it?” he teases

This was the first time he’s called you that, and it was driving your heart beat up dangerously.

“Don't worry, I'll take care of you, like I always do,” he murmurs against your lips before leaving you with a peck. 

He pulls you off the counter as he leads you to your bed. You were in a daze; your brain was running hot, and you couldn't even think of anything but the feeling of his hands caressing your sides from under your shirt. 

“Tell me you want it” Your eyes flutter a bit at his tone. He sounded so good. You needed him inside of you; that was the only thing you could think of.

“I need you inside,” you moan with a roll of your hips

“Gotta get you ready for that first,” he says as he begins to strip you of your clothes before he follows with his own.

You definitely had brain fog but the sight infront of you cleared it up. He looked so good, you had to bite your tongue before you let out an embarrassing sound. His broad shoulders and slim waist hovered over you tauntingly, like his body was begging you to mark it. His length stood proud against his abdomen, and you had to will yourself to meet his dark graze again. When he licks his lips, you pout and give him a "hurry up" look.

 He wastes no time and starts stretching you out over his fingers. You return every kiss and nip he gave you earlier and more. You mark up his neck with kisses and bites and leave pretty claw marks down his back  and chest as he works his fingers in and out of you skillfully. He had to bite back the groans that threatened to leave his mouth as you gushed all over his fingers. He couldnt wait to feel you around his cock. You feel yourself getting so close. You roll your hips as he scissors you open. He senses how close you are and hooks his fingers as they drag deliciously against your walls. You finish all over his fingers.

“You must have been so pent-up, baby; that didn't take long at all?” he coos teasingly

You shoot him a glare and retaliate by wrapping your legs around his waist, locking him into place. You grab his length and stroke it. You give him a few sensual pumps before you crack. You wanted to tease him like he's been torturing you, but you couldn't keep waiting; you needed him inside so you slipped him in. He chuckles softly at your failed attempt to get back at him and pecks your lips affectionately. You shudder at the feeling, and your walls are squeezing him so tight that the soft patterns he was drawing on your skin turn into harsh grasps of your hips while his soft chuckling turns into a surprised gasp. He moans softly as he tries to ground himself.

“You want it bad, huh?” he tries to get you to beg but it comes out more whiney than domineering 

“No more waiting; if you wont do anything, I'll do it myself,” you threaten. 

He finds your threat cute and has decided to take mercy on you. He strokes slowly at first, making sure you’re not hurting or uncomfortable. You loved this man, and you loved how much he cared for you, but right now you didn't want that. Despite his constant nagging, he has always been nothing but gentle with you for as long as you can remember. You don't want that side of him. You want it rough.

“Dont hold back,” you mirror his words from earlier “you wont break me,” you reassure him when you see worry settle into his features

“What if I do?”

“I want you to,” you whisper back 

That seems to do the trick because now he was hoisting your hips up, tilting them to fuck into you as deep as he could. Your lower half is lifted from the mattress and all you can do is hold on to the sheets. He was thrusting in deep, craving as much contact as possible. 

You try to match his pace and fuck back on him, but you grow tired and just settle for taking everything he gives you.

He sets your hips back down before yanking one of your legs over his shoulder. He starts back  up again, and you can see the way his veins strain against his arms at the force he's using to fuck you. You were sure to have pretty bruises in the shape of his hands in the morning. The bed creaked loudly as he pounded you into the mattress, and you prayed that Ryujin wasn’t home yet. 

It was like he couldn't keep his hands off of you; they were never still on your body. First they were grasping your hips, holding you steady as he drilled you, then they were grasping at your breasts, and finally one of them took a purchase wrapped around the base of your neck. He wasn’t applying much pressure; he was just holding it there.

Your walls flutter around his cock and hw tightens his grip around your neck at the feeling. He can tell you’re about to cum and when you do, he has to hold you down with his other hand. The lack of air triggers your survival responses and heightened senses, making you feel everything tenfold. The burn against your throat hurts, but the pain mixes with the pleasure to give you a beautiful ending. You can tell by the sticky warmth that fills you and the groan that follows that Jeno wasn't far behind at all. He rolls off of you and plops down on the space beside you to catch his breath. You pull yourself up and start to get out of bed before he grabs your arm.

“Where are you going?” He asks as hurt crosses his features.

“I need the bathroom,” you explain, sleepy “This is my house anyway; you thought I was going to leave?” You joke with a laugh

Jeno visibly relaxes for a second before he too gets out of bed. He makes his way over to you and helps you to the bathroom. You go to the bathroom, and he runs a bath, and you realize how much more domestic your relationship has become in the last few weeks, to the point where it feels natural.

He helps you into the bath and slips in behind. You two talk more in the bath as he pampers you. You have never felt more at home than when you were wrapped in Jeno’s arms. When you get out, he lays you back on the bed before cuddling up beside you. You study his face, and for the first time in awhile, you take a good, long look. If you looked close enough, you could still see traces of the boy you knew all those years ago under the man that stared back at you. For some reason, that made everything hurt. You knew Jeno would do anything to protect you, but who would protect him? With Jaemin gone, all he had was you. You shut your eyes at the thought.

You don't know what your thinking; you just knew you had to be strong and that you were going to put an end to this tonight. You didn’t have his number anymore, but you always knew where to find him. 

It was getting late, and instead of heading to the gym for your weekly training with Jeno, you were on the other side of town. You hug your jacket tighter to your chest, bracing yourself against the cold winds of the night. When you turn a corner, the flashing neon lights almost blind you.

찬스노래방

Chance Karoake

You open the door to the front of the building and make your way in. You put on your brave face before trekking over to the back of the shady building. Room 0824 was your destination. 

This was the building Yuta ran most of his deals out of. Karaoke rooms are a known hotspot for drug deals and other illegal trades. It was rare to see Yuta here now due to the fact that he had to keep his image clean but you knew his schedule and you knew when he would pop in. Dont get him wrong; yuta wasnt some big-shot crime boss, he was just some kid who dealt in shady business. 

You knock on the door and wait. When the door swings open, a cloud of smoke hits you in the face. The room stinks of weed and disposables, the smoke burning your eyes as you try to focus on the figure in front of you. 

Cheshire grin meets an apprehensive frown as you stand face-to-face with Yuta.

“Welcome home, doll”

You feel the adrenaline coursing through your veins at the man standing in front of you, the source of so much trouble in your life. The atmosphere is tense, filled with the lingering smell of drugs and the weight of unspoken threats. You knew this was your chance to finally confront him and put an end to this dangerous game you've been forced to play. With a steely glance, you lock eyes with Yuta and prepare yourself for the confrontation that will determine the course of your future.

“Don't call me that” You push past him and enter the room. There is plenty of sitting room on the couch, but you’re too anxious, so you decide to stand. A few of his friends occupy the room, and he doesn't have to tell them twice to leave the two of you alone.

Even after all this time and all your history together, you cannot bring yourself to look him in the eyes. Jeno was right; he terrified you. You could pretend to be brave all you wanted, but the truth was, you were just a scared little girl inside. 

“Don't push me, doll,” he warns before wrapping slender fingers around your jaw and forcing you to look at him. “Where's your little boyfriend? Not here to save you?” he taunts

“I want you to leave him alone,” you grit out. You had to be brave.

“You think you can just walk in here and give me orders? You forget who you belong to?” He shakes your face in his grasp.

You rip his hand from your face and twist. No, you would not let him control you any longer. This had all gone too far. Despite feeling intimidated, you refuse to submit to his control any longer.

All you could think about was Jeno; you couldn't let him get hurt anymore because of you. You loved him more than you feared Yuta. You refuse to let him own you.

With the grasp that you have on his arm, you twist his wrist farther until hes crippling down onto his knees. As he winced in agony, you could see the fear etched on his face. With a steely resolve, you pressed harder. His cries echoed in the empty room as you held him in place, making sure he felt every ounce of pain he had caused. Your grip tightened, a silent promise that this would be the last time he hurt anyone.

“If you want to continue playing and keep your scholarship, I suggest you leave me the hell alone. Next time you harass me, I'll break it,” you spit.

With a final, warning glare, you released your grip on his wrist. His body crumpled to the floor, gasping for breath as he clutched his throbbing wrist. You had made it clear that harassment would not be tolerated, and the threat of losing his scholarship hung heavy in the air. 

The weight that had been dragging you down for so long began to lift, replaced by a newfound sense of confidence and self-worth. With your head held high, you strode forward. Although you know for certain that Jeno would kill you if he ever found out, you think deep down he would be proud; after all, he created this monster.

When you get home, Ryujin’s on your ass for being out so late. When she had called Jeno and he hadn't seen you either, she thought the worst had happened. You check your phone and find 10 missed calls and even more frantic text messages from Jeno. 

You apologize for causing worry to Ryujin and explain that you lost track of time while out. You decide to quickly call Jeno back to assure him your okay. 

You wait as the phone rings, but there is no answer. You call again, and he still doesn't pick up. Something didn't feel right, and you grabbed your keys, rushing out of the house.

“You just got here; where are you going?” a stern Ryujin calls.

“Gotta find Jeno!” you call back before hopping back into your car.

For as long as you’ve known him, you knew Jeno could be a hothead sometimes. You knew the moment he heard you were missing, he went out himself to go looking for you. You drove to his house to find him. When you pull into his driveway, it's empty. You park and rush up the stairs to his apartment. You bang on the door until someone answers. You almost sigh in relief until you realize its not Jeno. The person on the other side of the door looked clearly aggravated. His black hair was messily strewn on his head, and his shirt hung off his frame like he just threw it on. 

“Can I help you? A raspy voice calls

“Uh, im looking for Jeno,” you ask the man

“He left like an hour ago,” he yawns lazily, leaning against the door frame like he could barely stay awake. “Its almost one in the morning. Whats going on?” 

“Its nothing; can you call me if he shows back up” you ask frantically.  If Jeno had left an hour ago, who knows where he could be now? You give him your number, and he tells you his name is Mark. You thank him and rush back to your car. Your about to pull out when your phone lights up. Jeno was calling you back.

“Hello? Jeno where have you been?” You feel a weight lift off your shoulder as you take your keys out of the ignition and slump back into your seat. 

“”I found Yuta”

“Jeno…What did you do to him?”

“I beat his ass,” he says, “and then I made him tell me where you were”

“Jen—”

“Why did you think it was a good idea to go and threaten him on your own?”

“I had too. I had to do it for me”

“Where are you”

“At your apartment”

“Stay there”

You get out of your car and lean up against the hood, and you wait to see his car roll down the street. 

You breathe in the cold, crisp night air and let it soothe your nerves. You did not want to argue with Jeno, not right now. Headlights blind you as a car pulls up behind yours. You hear the engine cut off and the car door slam. As Jeno quickly approaches, you prepare yourself for the confrontation. The tension hangs heavy between you, but you take a deep breath and gather your thoughts before engaging in what could be a difficult conversation. 

"Jeno, can we talk about this—” You're left speechless as his lips meet yours in an unexpected kiss.

Confusion and conflicting emotions swirl within you as you reluctantly allow yourself to be swept up in the moment, momentarily forgetting all of your worries.

He pulls away and rests his forehead on yours “Don't scare me like that” His hands caress your face like he can't believe your standing in front of him, like he's making sure he's not dreaming. His frame is shaking, and you’re not sure if it was the cool night air or the light rain that chose this moment to fall, making him shiver.

He pulls you in for a tight hug, and your heart twists, your throat closes up, and you cry. You cry because you never want him to pull away; you cry because you realize how much he loves you; and you cry because you’re both safe.

“Im sorry Jen i didnt mean to—”

“No excuses,” he says, shaking his head “promise”

You hug him back tight and bury your head in his shoulder. “I promise I wont do anything like that again” 

He pulls away from you and you notice hes soaked to his bones. The rain had picked up and was now pouring down over you two; you could only imagine your clothes were in the same state. You laugh and push his wet hair out of his face.

“Mark is going to kill us if we soak the carpet.”

“I think he's already upset; I woke him up earlier. Come on, lets get you out of the rain”

He leads you inside by the hand, and you kick off your wet shoes and socks. You try your best to make your way to the bathroom to change. Jeno brings you some dry clothes, and he closes the door and changes alongside you into something more warm.

You follow him to his room with light steps, afraid of waking Mark up for a second time. You lay down next to Jeno in his bed, and you tangle your feet with his seeking warmth.

“I feel like my heart starts beating again when our hands hold each other,” he whispers

“Back then, when we drifted apart, every day felt like I was drowning. Now because you are here, I'm breathing,” you confess

He hugs you tighter and kisses the top of your head “im not going anywhere”

And you believe him, because somehow you had always known he was your guardian angel. You close your eyes, feeling the warmth of his embrace and the reassurance in his words. In that moment, you know that no matter what challenges may come, you both can face them together. With his arms around you and his promise to stay by your side, you finally feel at peace, knowing that you have found your way back to each other.

[babydollmarauders]

PHASES — LUKE HUGHES

luke hughes x fem!reader

summary: in which luke is pining for the girl he knows he’s destined to be with

notes: 4.3k words. this is a new style of writing for me and i truthfully don’t know about it but it felt right for this fic.

Luke Hughes knows a lot of things.

he knows hockey. he knows history. and he knows that in this moment, drunk on cheap beer and lip locked with the prettiest girl he’s ever seen, she and he are destined to be together.

but life and love are never simple. drunken hookups between best friends don’t just automatically make them a couple. and no matter how badly he wants to scream that she should be with him, he knows he has to wait it out; give her time to come to the same realization that he did two years ago.

her back digs into the armrest of the battered couch, her legs draped across Luke’s own as his fingertips grip her upper thigh. their faces are drawn together, her hands tangled beautifully in his curls, pulling him closer toward her vodka soaked lips.

“Lukey,” his name rolls off her tongue like a whispered prayer, causing a singular beat to skip in his heart.

“what do you need, doll?”

“you.”

and her singular word is the driving force that brings Luke to his feet, her hand laced with his as he leads her to his bedroom. the people in his apartment cast away from his mind, only one person occupying that space.

her.

surely, Jack can handle the party that he threw, no one would miss Luke.

and that thought is what leads them to his room, their bodies pressed together in mere minutes. the next few hours spent tangled between cotton sheets. his feverish touch making her body shake, and her soft sounds causing an intense sensation of need within him.

hot breath mingles, their lips rarely straying from each others. sweat coated skin sticking together as they christen his bed for the umpteenth time. neither mind clear, they find solace and pleasure with her legs wrapped around his waist and his sloppy thrusts bringing them to the highest points.

and when they call it a night, Luke’s hand slamming the car door shut after she falls into the backseat of an uber, he falls back into the same spot he started the night.

waiting for fate to bring her home to him for the final time.

***

the restaurant feels suffocating, her dress itchy, causing her to wiggle uncomfortably in her chair.

her date doesn’t even seem to notice, rambling on once more about how cool it is that she works for the New Jersey Devils.

“i mean, you must get to be around the players all the time, right? how did you even get that job?” what was this one’s name? Carter? Carson? it started with a C, right?

“i went to University of Michigan. graduated a year early with a degree in sport management, and after working with the hockey team there, i was able to secure a spot working for the Devils.” she smiles, a weak timid thing that barely even reaches her cheeks, “but yeah, i do spend a lot of time around the players. kinda my job to get content of them, ya know?”

maybe-Carter chuckles, nodding his head, “so are you like, friends with any of them?”

‘oh, here we go’ she thinks.

“i went to school with Luke Hughes, he’s kind of my best friend.” it was an instinct really, an involuntary reaction; for a smile to creep across her lips when she talks about Luke, “but i can’t really say much about him or the guys, they’re people too and they deserve their privacy.”

“right, totally respect that,” he nods, his lips falling into a tight line, and she can’t help but notice that they aren’t as pillowy as Luke’s.

his lips don’t nearly look as comforting to kiss. and his curls; they don’t… curl the way Luke’s do. rather he has a head of tighter curls, unlike Luke’s unruly mess of loose curls and waves mingling together. his eyes aren’t the right color either, erring on the side of a blue closer to Jack’s; which makes a shiver run down her spine, discomfort settling within her.

“are you cold?” he asks, catching sight of the goosebumps that spread across her skin. he huffs a condescendingly toned laugh before continuing, “maybe you should’ve brought a jacket, restaurants run cold.”

that was where she drew the line. with his obnoxious attitude combined with his interest, which only peaked when discussing her job, y/n was surprised she lasted as long as she did.

and if the fact that he wasn’t similar enough to her best friend played a small part in her leaving? well, could she really be blamed?

after all, it was Luke’s fault.

it was Luke who made the first move his freshman year of college, both of them tipsy on drinks made by Dylan and his heavy hand with rum. it was Luke who made the sophomore girl fall for him two years ago. it was Luke who drunkenly tells her he loves her as he buries himself inside of her, knowing exactly what to do to tip her over the edge. and it was Luke who has her going on at least five dates a month, trying to force the Devils rookie out of her heart.

or at least, she blames it on Luke; because she couldn’t allow herself to admit that she fell in love with him of her own accord. she can’t allow herself to confess how quickly their drunken hookups turned into something more for her. and she certainly can’t dwell on the fact that she hasn’t put a stop to them. how could she? those are the only moments that she can let herself believe, even for a moment, that she could be his.

because despite how badly she wanted it, she could never be Luke’s. not in the way she wants to be. no matter how hard she tries, she can never find the words to express how much he means to her. how much she loves him.

*

Luke laid on the couch, the springs digging into his back uncomfortably.

“dude, we really need a new couch.” he huffs, “and why am i laying like this? i don’t think people actually lay down in therapy outside of tv shows.”

“shut up, i’m taking notes.” Luke’s eyes drift to his older brother, who occupies the space of the living room chair.

“notes on what? i haven’t even said anything!”

“you don’t need to. i’ve listened to you bitch and moan about y/n for two years, i’m writing what i can remember.” Jack explains, his brows furrowed in focus as his pen scribbles messily across the notepad on his lap.

“why did i let you talk me into this?” Luke rolls his eyes at his brothers antics.

“because you’re pussy-whipped and you’re playing like shit.” Jack looks up from the notepad, straightening his posture and settling his focus on Luke.

“is that a medical diagnosis?” Luke jokes, his brow raising as he chuckles.

“no, that’s brotherly criticism. you get that for free, courtesy of the nine months we each spent in mom’s womb.” Luke cringes at his brothers words, shaking his head.

“don’t talk about mom’s womb.”

“just speak, dude. what’s going on in that curly head of yours?”

Luke sighs, his eyes drifting towards the ceiling. his hands fiddle with the cellphone that lays on his stomach, impatiently waiting for the text that he knows will come through.

it’s 10pm on an off day, he knows she’s got a date tonight. he also knows how her date will end; soon enough she’ll be texting him a long paragraph about how men suck and asking him to remind her why she can’t become a nun.

“well, i told you, i know she and i are meant to be together. i can feel it.” Luke starts, quickly cut off by the familiar grating voice he’s known his entire life.

“yeah, yeah, you’re a simp. move on.”

“has anyone ever told you that you’d make a horrible therapist?” Luke questions, head turning once more toward his brother.

“i can’t say anyone has, no.”

“yeah? well then, i’ll be the first.” he glares, “stick to hockey.”

“just keep talking, Lukey.”

“i think it’s getting harder to wait for her.” Luke confesses, and it feels like a small weight has been lifted off his chest; progress.

“so you wanna move on?” Jack asks, his pen scrawling along the paper again.

“no!” Luke huffs, sitting up on the couch to turn towards his brother, who quickly strikes out whatever he just wrote down, “i’m just saying that- that this whole waiting game is fucking with my head. Phil said i had to wait it out. he told me not to pressure her. practice my patience and let her come to the realization on her own.

“but, what if it goes on too long? she’s always going on dates, what if she meets someone else? what if it takes her ten years to realize what i realized like a month after we met?! what if she gets married before she realizes?”

“too many ‘what if’s’, dude. you’re hurting my brain.” Jack groans, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Luke, already in an emotional spiral, rolls his eyes, “what brain?”

“hey! i’m trying to help you here! don’t insult me!” Jack stands up, notepad falling to the floor and his hands drawing to his hips as he glares at the rookie defenseman.

“well you’re not much help.”

“you want my advice? either keep waiting and playing like shit and making easily avoidable mistakes, or say fuck it to your friends advice and tell her how you feel.”

“i’m going to bed.” Luke grumbles, pushing past the shorter man to go to his room.

“don’t forget, no morning skate tomorrow!” Jack calls out as Luke’s door clicks shut.

as Luke strips down to his boxers, his phone lights up on his bed, vibrating amongst the cotton sheets. and as he sees her name flashing on the screen, butterflies flutter in his core, making him swallow harshly in attempt to stop them.

he doesn’t even get a word out after accepting the call, her voice filtering through the speaker, “men suck.”

“oh yeah?” Luke can’t help but laugh at the repetitive cycle, “tell me more. how do we suck?”

“you just do, okay?” her tone is biting before she takes a sobering breath, “all he wanted to talk about was the team. i could practically see the walls shut down around him once i told him i couldn’t dish out the hot goss on players.”

“i’m sorry, y/n.” he’s not sorry. not even a little.

“remind me why i can’t be a nun?” her voice is distant as she takes the phone away from her ear so that she can unlock her apartment door.

“no tiktok and no sex.” Luke echoes for what feels like the hundredth time.

“right.” she kicks off her shoes, bumping the door shut behind her as her cat darts around between her legs, rubbing against her nylon tights, “you ready for the game tomorrow?”

“yeah.” no.

“good. i’m gonna go eat my weight in ice cream and scroll tiktok. goodnight, Lukey. thanks for the reminder and for listening to me rant.”

“any time. goodnight.”

as Luke lays in bed, he falls asleep with Jack’s advice echoing in his head.

keep waiting and playing like shit and making easily avoidable mistakes, or say fuck it to your friends advice and tell her how you feel.

meanwhile, y/n slumps on her sofa, a pint of ben & jerry’s in her hand as she looks down at the little ball of black fur that’s taken up residence by her feet.

“have you ever been in love, Sir Nightingale?”

the cat blinks back at her, patiently waiting for her attention. which comes in the form of her fingernails scratching lazily under his chin.

“i have.” she continues the one sided conversation, “it fucking sucks. never fall in love.”

***

the game was an absolute shit show.

Luke had taken a shoddy penalty in the first period; for delay of game, out of all things. which lead to a power play goal by the opposing team and leaving the Devils down by two.

it was only about five minutes later that Luke got an assist on a goal of Jack’s, but ultimately, the game still ended six to two, not in the Devils favor. not only did the team get yelled at for their lack of adequate effort, but Luke was singled out for at least two turned over pucks, which lead to opposing team goals.

and to make a bad night even worse, when all was said and done and Luke was finally showered and ready to just go home and wallow in the loss, he left the locker room to find y/n chatting with one of the equipment managers, Ben.

her hair twirled around her finger as she laughed at something Ben said, a red flush on her cheeks. Luke felt deflated, to say the least.

it was always someone else.

never him. never Luke.

he felt overlooked, and perhaps even unnoticed. it was like she never even saw him as an option, only ever the object of her desires when they were both tipsy and horny and already together.

and yet the feeling was still there. settled low within his gut, he still knew; he’s the one for her. he knows. he’s fairly certain that deep down, she knows it too.

is it his age? it’s only a year’s difference, surely it doesn’t matter, right? it was something else. it had to be, but he truly didn’t know what.

“y/n.” his voice carries through the hallway, settling in her ears and catching her attention.

turning towards him with wide doe eyes and parted lips, she smiles, “hey!”

“am i still giving you a ride home?” Luke’s expression is stony, giving nothing of his feelings away. though, he can’t help the way his eyes gravitate to the man behind her, Luke’s blank stare making the man cower just slightly.

and Luke almost felt proud of that. almost.

“actually, i think Ben and i are gonna go for some drinks. i’ll catch up with you tomorrow, yeah?”

his shoulders slump, his posture crumpling the same way his heart did in his chest.

“yeah, see you tomorrow.”

Luke barely gets two steps closer to the arena exit before her voice calls out, stopping him in his tracks. her heels click against the floor as fast as she could move, before she pops up in his vision.

“you played good. a few mistakes are normal, it’s your first full season, the most games you’ve ever played,” her voice is gentle, her eyes peering up at him softly through her wispy lashes, “i’m proud of you. don’t be too hard on yourself, alright?”

her arms wrap around his torso before he can even respond, her face buried in the chest of his suit. and before his heart can reach a normal pace again, before he can wrap his arms around her in return, she’s pulling away.

with a wave of her hand and a small but awe-strikingly beautiful smile playing upon her lips, she’s walking away. back to Ben, who waits for her by the arena exit now.

and once more, Jack’s voice is back inside Luke’s head. driving him absolutely insane as he watches the love of his life walk out of the building, giggling at something another man said.

keep waiting and playing like shit and making easily avoidable mistakes, or say fuck it to your friends advice and tell her how you feel.

*

keep waiting and playing like shit and making easily avoidable mistakes, or say fuck it to your friends advice and tell her how you feel.

tell her how you feel.

tell her how you feel.

tell her how you feel.

“tell her how you feel.” Luke wakes with a startle, his head knocking against his brother’s, who was leaning over him.

Jack curses, hissing in pain as he holds a hand his forehead.

“what the fuck are you doing in my room?” Luke groans, voice groggy as he takes in his surroundings.

“i got up to take a piss and i could hear your phone blowing up all the way from the bathroom,” Jack explains, “shit, you have a bony ass head.”

“it’s called a skull. i know yours doesn’t house anything inside of it, but even i assumed you’d know what it is.”

Jack huffs, rolling his eyes. “ya know what? just for that, i take back my advice. fuck off and die alone, what do i care?”

“why were you giving me advice at-” Luke slides his phone off his nightstand, checking the time, “two in the morning?”

“she’s blowing up your phone.” Jack scowls, “something something men suck something something maybe being a nun is worth the no tiktok?”

Luke feels an odd sense of relief as he looks at his recent texts, finding exactly what Jack had described.

well, without the ‘something something’s.

“pretty sure you were saying her name in your sleep too,” Jack smirks, backing away towards the bedroom door, “tell her how you feel, dickhead. put you both out of your misery so i can get some sleep and not listen to your incessant whining.”

with that, Jack leaves, the wooden door clicking shut in its frame behind him.

reading through the texts, Luke gathers that she and Ben didn’t get very far into the night together, seeing as her messages were still legible, something drunk her could never accomplish.

the thought brings him an unnecessary amount of joy. but then he’s hit with an overwhelming sense of annoyance, remembering he’ll have to go through this process all over again soon.

truthfully, he doesn’t know how much more he can take. he’s not giving up on her, on the contrary, maybe Jack is right. maybe Phil couldn’t give advice for all women and maybe Luke should just stop waiting.

she wasn’t coming to a realization quick enough and honestly, Luke is fucking tired. tired of drunken hookups. tired of listening to her rant about failed dates and sucky guys. tired of being overlooked as an option. tired of his feelings going unnoticed.

the dial tone was ringing in his ear before Luke even realized that he had made a decision, like his hands were working on autopilot. like his heart knew what he would decide before his brain did.

“hey! did i wake you?” her words weren’t slurred, Luke noted. that’s good, she doesn’t even sound tipsy. she’s in a sound state of mind for his confession.

“no,” he shook his head, despite knowing she could see him, “well, yes but no? you didn’t wake me up but Jack did, he could hear my phone buzzing.”

“oh shit, i’m sorry! we can talk tomorrow if you wanna go back to sleep, i’m just about to-”

“i love you,” immediately, Luke is regretting this decision; the silence on the other end of the phone making him bite his lip in anxiety.

“what?” her voice cracks as she giggles, “Luke, are you drunk? did you drink before you went to bed?”

“no,” he groans out, his head dropping back in frustration, “i swear, i haven’t touched any alcohol tonight. just listen to me.”

“i’m always listening to you, Lukey.” her eyes widen as she sits on the edge of her plush bed, “i just don’t understand what you’re saying.”

“i love you,” he repeats, rolling his shoulders in attempt to psych himself back up before he takes a deep breath.

“i’m in love with you. i have been since freshman year. i think that somewhere deep down, you know just as much as i do, that you’re meant to be mine. and i’ve waited two years for you to realize it. i’ve been patient, i’ve held back, i’ve waited on the sidelines while you go out on dates and i’ve listened to you rant about men. and that’s no problem; when i’m done, if you decide you’re still not ready, i’ll continue to wait for you. because even if you’re not mine, i’m yours, y/n. but, i need to get this off my chest and i need you to know that i’m in love with you. my life isn’t complete without yours. and when you’re ready, i’ll be here waiting for you. i’ll always be here. when you’re ready for the drunk hookups to turn into sober love, i’m gonna be right here. because i think that’s our fate. i think that we were destined to find each other and i think we were meant to have this storyline in our love story, and i know that one day you’ll realize it too. you can tell me i’m insane, you can tell me you don’t feel the same, you can even tell me to fuck off, if that’s what you wanna do. i’ll back off, i won’t say another word, but i’ll still be waiting.”

y/n is silent, her hands shaking as she breathes through the tears that roll down her cheeks. in return, Luke is quiet too, patiently waiting for her to digest everything he just confessed. every built up feeling that he just let slip out of him.

“i love you too.” it feels like all the weight she’s been shouldering has been listed off of her with the utterance of those four simple words.

“you do?” he feels like he can’t breathe, like he’s just been knocked against the boards and his lungs forgot how to take in oxygen.

“yes. Luke, why do you think i go on those dates? have you not noticed that almost every guy i go out with resembles you? i didn’t know if you felt the same way, i didn’t know how to tell you how i felt without risking our entire friendship going up in flames. Luke, i’m so fucking in love with you and it hurt. for two years, i’ve reveled in our drunken moments because i thought that was all i’d ever get. i dreaded the day that you would meet someone and tell me it has to stop. i fell for you so hard and it was so scary and i just- i had to try and move on. i had to try and meet someone before ultimately, you did. because i knew that if you told me you met someone, and i was still in love with you? i would never recover from that, Luke. i wouldn’t. and now you’re saying this and i, god i feel so fucking stupidly in love with you. you don’t have to wait anymore, because i realized i love you a long time ago.”

Luke pushes out of his bed, any interest in sleep lost to him. pulling on a hoodie and an abandoned pair of sweatpants from his bedroom floor, he doesn’t even bother telling Jack that he’s leaving.

“god, i need to kiss you.” he slips on his nike slides, his fingers nimbly plucking his keys off the hook by the front door, and as quickly as he could manage, he was out of there.

“you can kiss me tomorrow, Lukey.” she smiles, finally rising from her bed to finish her nightly routine.

that is, until she hears a key turn in her front door. her eyebrows pull together as she wonders out of her room, greeted by sight of a disheveled Luke in her apartment doorway, who looks like he just ran down the stairs to get there.

hanging up the phone, she grins back at the tall boy.

“or i can kiss you now.” a playful smirk pulls at the corner of his lips as he taking wide glides over to her.

his hands find her cheeks, his thumbs wiping gently over the supple, tear stained skin. the apartment is silent, their heartbeats racing as she gazes up at his beautiful eyes.

“or you can kiss me now.” she echoes, her words mumbled and low.

that’s the final straw, the confirmation Luke desperately needed, and finally, he allows his head to dip down. her lips were warm and soft, tasting faintly of mint ice cream, and warmth spreads across his body, starting at his chest and almost blossoming across his body. Luke feels at home.

her hands desperately cling to his hoodie, as though he’ll disappear if she lets go, and his slide back to cup the nape of her neck. she has no desire to pull away, but her lungs spread with fire until she’s forced apart by the need to breathe.

“i love you.” she whispers, eyes closed as she rests her forehead against his own, teeth digging into her bottom lip as she bites back a lovelorn smile.

“i love you, sweet girl.”

“please don’t go back home. spend the night?” she finally opens her eyes, her head tipping back as he straightens up.

a pink hue glows upon his cheeks, and she can’t resist letting the backs of her fingers gently graze over the heated skin.

“not going anywhere, baby. staying right here.” his lips brush against her forehead, leaving a fleeting kiss in their wake and making her heartbeat flutter within her rib cage.

it feels right, the way they go about a new bed time routine. luke’s arms wrapped around her waist as she brushes her teeth, his eyes boring into her reflection. her head on his chest as they fall asleep, his alarm on for them to wake up for morning skate, together.

and if they were holding hands when they walked into the rink, if they were a cheesy couple who kissed before he entered the locker room, if his smile was a bit too wide in the tiktok she filmed for the Devils socials, if she chose the question ‘do you believe in fate?’ solely because of him, could they really be blamed?

[north-noire]

My Michael Afton throughout the years! ft. his own little doodles. I'll try to be brief about the timeline and how my Michael was without saying too much since it'll be explored in the Hidden Hands AU fic's chapters anyway so I won't say all the details. Feel free to read if you guys like! I have a lot to say about him.

1983 (FNAF 4) - Michael was 12 or 13-ish when the Bite happened. Very reckless yet adventurous kid. Didn't really hate Evan (William, as much as he had a soft spot for Evan, still loved Michael all the same), just had really bad friends and influence (his friends were mostly bullies) - and didn't really like that he's being told to parent a little brother he had no idea how to take care of. It didn't help that Evan tended to be a tattle-tail sometimes about the trouble he was getting into. Michael also, deep down, got scared of what the bullies would do to him if he dared stand up for his brother or spoke out against them, so he ends up going along with what they did for his own sake. After the Bite, Michael was still deeply guilty about what he did to Evan, and it haunts him every night, knowing he had no good excuse but irresponsibility for what he did to his brother, because after all, it wasn't like William wasn't giving him enough attention. Michael just knew that he deserved anything unfortunate coming to him, but is genuinely surprised that his father kept telling him he loved him all the same. From this point on, he becomes easily troubled, tends to stay close to his dad. Makes sure he follows the rules and doesn't do trouble. Just wants to do a complete personality shift, and is deeply ashamed of who he was before. 1985 (Charlie's death, Fredbear's Family Diner shuts down) - Michael was 15 here. Over the years, he slowly isolated himself from most of the people in his life since he gets worried about his past scars coming back to haunt him. Mostly a recluse and reserved. He's not handling things well after Charlie's death and a family divorce - not to mention the non-existent social life he had. Just prefers to be left alone, but he's nice if you get to know him. Doesn't really have a good relationship with Elizabeth, but is actually pretty close with William. Feels extremely guilty and hates himself/blames himself for Charlie's death. He gets paranoid easily, as he thinks whoever took Charlie is now after him, but his father tells him to not worry too much about it. 1987 (FNAF 2) - (17) Slowly having a good relationship with Elizabeth. Starts to get into stuff like the supernatural and becomes superstitious to a degree over the years. In public, he's mostly polite and nice, but his actual personality shows through whenever he's with his father or Elizabeth - he's sarcastic, and has quite a dark sense of humor, can be a bit of a rebel, he's just more subtle about it. A bit of an over-thinker - he gets lost in his imagination/head easily. Has a (surprisingly) good relationship with his dad, as he's not really afraid to be himself around him - sometimes gifts him funny things or something he knows his dad would love/would use (he gifts William a rabbit's foot - for good luck, he says). He also helped William build the Fun-Times with blueprints and other technicalities (He's not really aware of the questionable features they had, unfortunately). He couldn't really come with his father and Elizabeth on Circus Baby's Pizza World opening due to things he had to catch up with his home-schooling, he had been skipping classes to work on the Fun-Times, but he really wanted to graduate highschool with a bang, so he's giving everything his all, here. Then Elizabeth suddenly goes missing all of a sudden, and, well... I would say more, but my fic sort of takes a canon-divergence route around FNAF 2/SL-FNAF 1 so that would spoil half of the stuff I've been working/writing about! Reference-sheet wise, I just wanted to show how he progresses from a rebellious, happy and adventurous kid into a more reclused, anxious and soft-spoken adult. Sorry for the long post! I've just been wanting to talk about him for some time now. There's a looot more that I've left out but yeah that's because there will be more in the fic!

[goldessia]

RUINED REPUTATION — k. bkg x assistant reader

sum. katsuki bakugo is the #1 professional hero. because of this, he built an agency, and wound up hiring an assistant to help him with publicity and to do majority of his paperwork for him... something he didn’t expect was for that assistant to be so damn attractive.

warnings. smut, mdni! power imbalance (implied), slight degration, risky / quickie, scandal, sort of slowburn, reader had a small quirk (can manipulate small doses of water), intoxication, smut in later parts.

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 (wip)

a/n. ty to @cafekitsune for the borders / dividers!

“YOU do know the risks, right?” my room-mate, mina, says, “i mean, i went to school with bakugo. he’s not a very.. nice person, and publicly placing yourself as his assistant could make you a target.”

i nod. “i know that.” i say, stuffing some things into my purse, “but i need this job. i love you, mina, but right now we kind of need the extra income. we’re not getting much with your job.”

she groans in frustration, “i know! but, all the villains lately just aren’t compatible with my quirk, so i’ve been leaving it to the others..” she sighs, rubbing her face.

“yeah, i know.” i say, slinging my purse over my shoulder, “it’ll just be temporary until you get back on your roll.”

“more like temporary because dynamight’ll kill you before that.” she snorts.

picking up my keys, i scoff, “i’m sure he’s not that bad. maybe he’s just a stressed out person!”

“sure. just come home in one piece, alright?” she chuckles, taking a sip of her cold coffee.

i roll my eyes and step out the door, finding my car and opening my phone for the directions to the agency.

the agency was easy enough to find — right in the middle of town with a sign in bright, orange colours: “the dynamight agency”.

i guess when you’re the #1 hero you don’t have to be scared to be found. in fact, looking at the giant building, i suspect he wants to be found; to be challenged, and to show them why he has the title of number one hero.

..and i also suspect this guy needs a serious ego check.

but i couldn’t lie and say i didn’t feel nervous. anxiety rushed through me, daring to glue me to this spot and not enter the building.

despite this, i walk through the front doors accidentally pushing a pull door and make my way to the front-desk where a pretty woman sits with two body guards beside her.

“hi,” i whisper, “i’m uh, here for the interview.. for the assistant?”

“oh! yes, you’re right on time.” she smiles, clicking a few buttons on her keyboard, “you’ll have to take the elevator up to the fiftieth floor, and in room A3.

“you’ll find a few of dynamight’s personnel as well as himself. he insisted on being there.. considering if you’re accepted you’ll be seeing a lot of eachother for a long while.”

my heart skips a beat.

“dynamight’s.. gonna be there?” i say, my eyes widening.

the lady hums, nodding her head like it was something normal to sit and have a talk with the number one hero.

i gulp, but mutter a, “thank you,” walking toward the elevators while clutching my purse with clammy hands.

pressing the button to the fiftieth floor, i feel anxiety rush through me. who was i thinking, applying for this job? i can’t handle being the assistant to dynamight!

i groaned, slapping my forehead as the reality finally set in.

i should’ve just listened to mina, and applied for some desk job or something. i figured, why not go above and beyond?

i’m so stupid!

ding!

the elevator doors open, and about a gazillion people rush into the elevator muttering nonsense to eachother or into their phones. majority held a briefcase — some are just holding loose papers, clutching onto them like their life depends on it.

i’m suddenly pushed to the back, and i try to mutter a few “excuse me”s, but to no avail — none of them could hear me, too zoned out in their own realities to care.

i was trapped.

suddenly i hear an explosion. a minor one, but undeniable.

my heart skips out of my chest. was there a villian? i’m in an elevator with fifteen people! i’m so dead. what was i thinking?!

“WHERE IS THAT DAMN ASSISTANT?” a voice screams, becoming louder by the second. “she’s late!”

“i’m sorry, dynamight, but it’s only been two minut-“

“SHUT UP! i didn’t ask you.” dynamight’s voice is now clearly in-front of us.

and then, i see him.

he’s tall, menacing — still in his hero costume that i recognize seeing on television when i was a teenager, just a little changed up.

the look on his face was undeniable. red, hot anger spilled from his aura as his eyes scanned the group of frightened workers, all frozen in place and have halted their calls and conversations.

i feel myself freeze when his eyes glaze over me, before halting. his eyes narrow, before he lifts a hand and points.

“you.” he says. “‘cmere, will ya?”

everyone’s eyes flick to me. i gulp, before nodding and slowly trying to make my way through the crowd.

“well, move out her damn way then!” dynamight hisses, and suddenly i see a path in front of me where there used to be people.

i take a deep breath, and with newfound confidence i walk forward, never breaking my eyes from his as i find myself beside him.

he snorts.

turning on his heel, he begins walking. hesitantly, i start walking beside him. he gives me a quick glare, expecting me to dip behind him but i don’t.

like i said before: he needs an ego check, and this is it.

he scoffs. “so, you’re my new assistant, or whatever?” he says, looking ahead again.

“well, i haven’t done the interview yet. so, maybe?” i say, masking my nervousness by remaining cold still except for my legs that are struggling to keep up with the hero’s pace.

he tuts. “fuck that. you’re hired, from here on out.”

then, he stops. he stands in-front of me, and it suddenly hits me how much taller he is, as he towers over me quite easily.

“which means you’ll do as i say when i say it. you work seven days a week, doing all my boring work i don’t want to do. got it?”

“seven?” my brows furrowed, “the agency said five—“

“yeah, well i say seven.” he spits, before pushing open a door. “this is your office. i’m across the hall.

“you’ll come when i call you. you’ll be dealing with all of my publicity shit as well.”

i shift on my feet. “yes, uh… sir?” i test, cringing at my own words.

his brows furrow, and his chin tips up. “good.” he says, before turning on his heel, “my manager will send you a list of things to do. get working on it.”

with that, he walks away.

my first interaction with my new boss, dynamight, couldn’t have gone any worse.

after the first few weeks, i was spent. i’d never run around so much and dealt with such work since my first year in college.

after a long day in the office, dealing with one of dynamight’s scandals—he had hooked up with another pro hero—i finally was able to go home. it was 5:30, which meant i was already in overtime.

packing up my stuff, i push open the glass door that is my office. music played through my earphones, just a simple playlist that consisted of my favourite songs i grew up on.

“y/n.”

i hum along to the tune, scrolling on my phone as i walked toward the elevator.

“y/n?”

a notification popped up; mina had texted me asking to swing by a grocery store to pick up something for dinner.

as i begun typing a reply, i was quickly stopped when i felt a hand roughly grab my shoulder and turn me around.

my heart stops in my chest as dynamight glares over me, before ripping out my earphone and scoffing.

“i called you fifty times. next time, you’ll listen, alright?” he spits.

“you were— huh?” my brows furrow.

“fuck, are you deaf, or something?!” he stops himself, rubbing his eyes before inhaling a deep breath, “a word. in my office.”

he starts walking to his office, before i speak. “sir, i— i’m already in overtime as it is. respectfully, with your recent.. scandal, i haven’t gotten much time to rest. this is my one time to.”

his steps slowly halt. he turns, glaring with those ruby eyes straight into my soul.

“in my office, y/n. now.” he seethes, “the amount of rest you get isn’t my concern.”

maybe i would’ve gotten more rest if you learned to just keep it in your pants, i think but i do not say.

“you got a problem with my orders?” he stares, testing me, trying to provoke me.

i stare back. with a sharp inhale, i mutter a—“no, sir.” while beginning on my already aching feet.

i hear another notification on my phone.

mina

girl, where are you!! foods gonna get cold

taking a quick look to dynamight, i try to quickly type back.

me

i know, sorry, will be there shortly

mr. explosion murder is mad at me 😬

mina

oh damn

praying 4 u girl

“texting your boyfriend?” dynamight scoffs, to which i quickly put my phone away.

“oh uh— no, sir.” i clear my throat.

he looks ahead and murmurs a, “good.”

“what?”

he opens the door to his office with such force i jump, the door nearly grazing my nose. he stands in-front of it, gesturing for me to enter.

when he does, he closes the door behind him.

i try to mask my nervousness, but it’s nearly impossible—who wouldn’t be nervous to be alone in a room with dynamight?

“what’d you want to talk to me about, sir?” i ask, fixing the glasses on my nose— just a small prescription, mostly for looks since i thought they were cute.

he stalks toward the chair tucked neatly into the desk in the middle of the room. sitting on it, he gestures for me to sit as well.

hesitantly, i do, folding my hands neatly in my lap.

“the board wanted me to discuss something with you,” dynamight states, leaning back in his chair and resting his hands on his open thighs.

oh gods. what is so big that the board wanted dynamight himself to talk to me alone about? was i being fired? was my work not good enough? was —

“your clothing.” he states, “you need to dress more formally.” he looks me over, eyes gesturing to the jeans and tank-top i had on.

i blink. “you.. you pulled me in here just to talk about what i wear?”

he runs a hand over his chin, inhaling. he has a slight stubble along his jaw and neck; the result of overworking himself the past few days.

lately, i’ve noticed a spike in his working hours, working longer than he usually does and longer than he needs to.

the biggest question is: why do i feel like i need to care for dynamight?

“not necessarily.” he states, leaning forward, “i’m going across tokyo for a mission. i want you to come with me.”

“what?” my brows furrow, “why?”

he sighs, “because.. i haven’t been out outside of work since my scandal, let alone talked to the press. i need you there to handle that shit for me so i can do my job.”

i ponder with his words, “..okay. well, i’d have to check with—“

“it’s not a question. it’s your job,” dynamight’s voice suddenly turns harsh, “we’re leaving tomorrow morning. i’ll pick you up by seven.”

“but you don’t know where i—“

“i know where you live.” he says, standing, peering me over when he sees i’m confused, “it’s in your work file.” he adds.

“oh. right.” i sigh in relief, thankful he wasn’t some stalker who found out where i lived by following me home.

wait, why would he even do that in the first place? whatever..

the door opens, and i turn to see dynamight standing irritably beside it. catching up on context clues, i grab my things and rush out the room.

that is, before i’m stopped by a hand on my shoulder. he leans closer, glaring ahead of him. i can feel the heat emitting from his hand, his body, and i freeze beneath his aura.

“and y/n?” he says, “if you’re going to wear that shirt.. wear a fucking bra next time.” he seethes.

practically pushing me out the room, i feel the door slam behind me.

i feel my face flush as i peer down to my shirt — i thought i could get away without wearing one today but i guess i was wrong.

fuck. how embarrassing was that?!

mina:

u alive?

me:

FML!!!

after i had gotten home, i told mina everything. needless to say, she was shocked — “seriously? travelling across the country with bakugo?”

“yeah. and for a week!”

“oh, you’re so done for.” she snorts, “i could barely handle a few hours with that kid back in highschool, let alone be with him all day long.”

i sigh, taking a sip of my water, placing it on the counter as i jump up to sit on it.

“he’s not.. that bad.” i cringe at my own words, “just a little misunderstood.”

“oh, please.”

“serious!” i cry, taking a bite of my donut, “i mean, he is an asshole, but working alongside him isn’t so bad.

“plus, majority of time he’ll just be ripping up some villains. all i get is some sweet vacation.” i shrug.

mina spares me a look, “are you sure you don’t have some sort of crush on him, or something?”

i gasp. a harsh blush finds my cheeks, and i want to crumble in on myself. “what? no!” my voice cracks as i am quick to defend myself.

she snorts. “you’re only ever like this when you have a crush!”

“am not.” i say, hiding my face from her.

“you’re blushinggg..” she teases, “you so have a crush on him!

groaning, i jump off the counter and make my way to the couch instead of the kitchen.

“don’t try and hide it!” mina calls from the kitchen. i roll my eyes and ignore her, flicking on the television.

the news was on.

the lady on the screen speaks, “number one hero, dynamight, was seen only two days ago with a top-ten hero. rumours have speculated about the two — are they dating, or was it just a fling? here’s what we think…”

i groan. another mention of this stupid scandal was gonna make my head explode.

the press didn’t know who it was he had slept with, but i did — it was double trouble, a hero with a doubled voice quirk that could control others bodies.

i always thought she was cool. standing at fourth place, she was a well known pro-hero in the area.

and also known to be happily married with two kids.

so why, on earth, did dynamight have to sleep with her? he had to be stupid to, she was pretty, but he really needed to get better with his publicity skills.

being the cause of an affair wasn’t getting better at it.

and if any information got out of it being double trouble, he’d not only have ruined his reputation but ruined double troubles life.

so, i spent the last week making sure every last bit of this scandal was wrapped up and sealed away. everything on the internet, security cameras, was wiped out of the world.

turning on one of my favourite shows, i set down my phone and get comfortable on the couch.

finally, i could relax.

and slowly, but surely, i fall into a slumber.

..

nearly an hour later, i hear a knock at the door. i groan, annoyed my sleep was disrupted and even more annoyed someone decided to knock on my door at midnight.

“can’t i just get one night of peace?” i mumble to myself as i push myself off the couch, fixing the tank-top strap on my shoulder.

walking to the door, i run a hand through my hair to attempt to tame the wild mess caused by sleep.

i open it, the door creaking as i did, peeking my head out the door. and…

i see no other thank katsuki bakugo, better known as dynamight.

he’s clutching the side of his torso, clutching the doorframe as he attempts to keep himself up.

he looks up, cheeks flushed, wearing casual wear — well, casual until you see the giant blood stain ruining his white tee shirt.

“i.. i didn’t know where else to go.”

[xuchiya]

"golden hour" || kim hongjoong || one-shot

| genre: non!idol ateez. fluff. slice of life | mentions: teasing. fainting. jewelry gift. | This is literally my high school delusions. My old school is literally an 'old school' school like no phones and computers, being in a relationship is not allowed, and big ass windows as our source of fans--- i mean we do have electric fans and ceiling fans but with the weather and a very old, close to dying, e-fans? We really have to depend on the wind from our windows. Anyways, this list is basically a true experience. My personal favorite? Song Mingi's.

It was the last subject of the day, and you were busy jotting down notes. One leg was folded beneath the other, lightly swinging in the air as your hand moved swiftly, keeping up with your professor’s dictation. Suddenly, the sharp sound of the bell echoed through the room, signaling the end of class.

The professor glanced at the time before closing their notebook. "For those participating in the festive dance, you may leave. The rest, stay behind to clean!" Your classmates erupted into chatter, some eager to rush to the computer shop, while others shrugged and left without a care. You rolled your eyes, your attention drawn to your friend, who approached with a smile—she was part of the festive dance.

“Hey, you know you can always skip. You look pale—”

You smiled faintly at her. “As much as I want to, I’m gonna save your butts from another earful from the professor.”

She sighed, placing a cold drink on your desk. “Please rest, okay?” You nodded in thanks as she waved goodbye and closed the door behind her.

You were seated by the window, alone since your seatmate had been absent due to a cold. As you packed away your things, you noticed the last few students leaving, their laughter and the distant sound of music drifting in from the auditorium. You sighed, your gaze lingering on the window. You always seemed to be the one left behind to clean up everyone else’s mess. Literally. Sure, you could skip it, but that would only bring scolding and deductions from your moral merits—a consequence you couldn’t afford. So, you chose to face it.

The late afternoon sun cast a warm, golden glow across the room as a gentle breeze drifted in. You were tempted to head home, but the messy classroom held your attention. With a resigned sigh, you stood up and started cleaning. One by one, you flipped the chairs onto the desks. With thirty desks to handle, the task felt overwhelming.

By the tenth chair, you leaned your forehead against it, sighing in exhaustion. Sweat clung to your skin, your eyes burned with fatigue, and your entire body felt weak. You couldn’t understand why you were so drained, so easily worn out.

“Come on, just a few more,” you whispered to yourself. But "a few more" meant flipping eighteen more chairs and then sweeping and mopping the floor. Despite your exhaustion, you pushed through, focused on finishing the task. You didn’t notice when the backdoor quietly slid open, and a figure stepped inside, watching you with concern.

Hongjoong had returned to retrieve Seonghwa’s bag, as his best friend had been called in early and hadn’t been in class all day. He expected the room to be empty since it was well past dismissal, but he froze upon seeing you struggling to lift another chair. He tilted his head, watching you until you suddenly tripped over your own feet, the room spinning around you.

Before you could fall, Hongjoong moved quickly, catching your wrist and steadying you as you leaned against him.

“Whoa… take it easy. You’re going to hurt yourself if you don’t slow down.”

You blinked, trying to shake off the dizziness. Your gaze landed on a silver nameplate, engraved with the name ‘김홍중.’ If you weren’t so exhausted, you might have panicked or made a fool of yourself. But you were too tired to fully grasp what was happening. Dark spots clouded your vision, and before you could react, your body went limp in Hongjoong’s arms.

His eyes widened in panic as you collapsed against him. “Y-Yah! Wake up, hey!” He gently tapped your cheek, but you didn’t respond. With growing urgency, he picked you up and kicked the door open, the force sending it slamming against the wall. He rushed toward the infirmary, his heart pounding.

Hongjoong flipped his phone open, the keychain of an old disc jiggling as he punched in the letters to send a quick message. When he arrived at the infirmary, the nurse informed him that you had been running a fever for three days, and the stress of upcoming exams had taken a toll on your health.

“I’ll be back, ma’am,” Hongjoong said, nodding at the nurse, who smiled sweetly at him. He hurried out of the campus and headed to a nearby convenience store, where he bought snacks, drinks, medicine, and a cool patch before returning to the infirmary.

When he arrived, the nurse was tidying up the now-empty bed. “She woke up and insisted on leaving,” she said with a small, apologetic smile. Hongjoong sighed, his nose flaring slightly, confused by the concern he felt for someone he barely knew. He knew who you were, but the two of you had never interacted before this.

“Please take care of her, Hongjoong-ssi!” the nurse called as he turned to leave. He considered just dropping off the bag and walking away, never mentioning the encounter again. But something pulled him toward you.

Was it because you were so persistent that you did not need help? Was it your way of saving people’s butt that you have to sacrifice something not even close to benefiting you?

Or was it the way the wind blew on your hair that it mesmerize him everytime he passed by your classroom? Or the way you look so innocent yet fierce underneath the golden hour of the day?

Just as he was lost in thought, you appeared at the doorway, one strap of your bag over your shoulder, running a hand through your hair. “Hongjoong-ssi? What are you doing here?” His breath caught in his throat as he gazed at you, bathed in the warm, golden glow of the sunset. You looked both delicate and fierce, and it left him speechless. He felt his heart race as his eyes lingered on your face, noticing every small detail—the patch of acne scars on your cheek, the natural curl of your eyelashes, the rosy flush of your cheeks from your recent illness.

You both stood in front of each other by the door, standing awkwardly as Hongjoong felt his entire body on fire.

 Your head was tilted to the side when you eyed his lips opening, the sound of confusion before he pushed the plastic bag to your chest and scrambled away to the other end of the hallway. You ‘oof’ in surprise, stumbling a little bit before your eyes flutter a few times; just comprehending what happened before your fingertips felt a cold and wet on the plastic bag.

You frown in confusion, taking the plastic bag in your hand then opening to see several snacks and drinks inside with another plastic inside. Your hand dive in to get the other container to realize that it is a cool patch and a sticky note attached to it.

‘The sun hides behind the clouds, not because it’s gonna rain but they rest too.’

You couldn’t help but smile, a small laugh escaping your lips. You glanced down the hallway where Hongjoong had disappeared before you quietly closed the door and walked away. The memory of passing out in his arms might have been embarrassing, but the thought of him taking care of you and buying you snacks made it worth it.

You walked away, a smile on your lips.

Around the corner, Hongjoong leaned against the wall, clutching his chest as he tried to calm his racing heart. His uniform crumpled in his grip, but a small smile tugged at his lips.

[lovingmayday]

𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐓 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒

warnings : fluff, cursing, innacurate-ish depictions of hobie's speech

notes : hobie is about 16-17 here (and so is the pov). halfway writing this, im overwhelmed by how much of an extrovert hobie actually is 😭 btw, i know nothing of classical music concerts so beware! all of this just because i wanted to write hobie sneaking in your window but i didnt even get to fit it in 😭😭

Two words that you've used as an excuse and an apology when you couldn't join your friends at house parties, when a classmate asks you out, or when your phone notifications go crazy because you still weren't home at 5 PM — it was a tiring cycle.

You know they were simply looking out for you but you can't help but feel overwhelmed and exhausted for always being monitored and left out. You couldn't possibly ask your peers to adjust to your parents' standards, you thought it shameless because they already had a hard time with your folks reaching out and interrogating them about your school and social life.

With so much of your life being tracked by them, you deserve at least one thing in your control, right?

Hobie Brown, the school troublemaker. Skips class, vandalizes school property, and actively participates in movements against authority. Frankly, he just does whatever he wants. And he had your respect (+ jealousy). It must've been nice to be so free.

You and Hobie were never given the chance to befriend each other before — you had some classes together but he rarely ever showed up to any of them. You had no reason to approach him and vice versa.

Until, Wednesday — your cello performance. God, you don't know why you insisted to your parents you could handle commuting to the concert venue on your own with the heavy as fuck cello slung around your torso. You had your book bag with you as well because you had just finished school. The bus stop was a few more blocks away but you were tired.

You weren't paying much attention to your surroundings, busy focusing on your aching shoulder. So once you saw the pedestrian lane green signal, you didn't think twice before walking, failing to notice the bicycle riding full speed to your direction. Your eyes widen when a strong force pulled you back, making you stumble a bit and see the bike dart just in front of you.

"Aye, watch it!" you hear the cyclist exclaim.

You back was leaning against the tall figure, looking up to see a familiar face. You regain your balance and face him — Hobie Brown, the boy that just saved your life. "I-It was green– green meant it was safe to walk... I should've looked first, 'm sorry," you say quietly.

"Nah yeah, it's straight. He was the arse," he replies, hands in his pockets. "Dunno where he got the audacity to tell you off when he was in the wrong. Don't worry abou' it." He gives you a reassuring smile, noticing your still dazed expression.

"Thank you, Hobie," you say, a small polite smile on your lips.

He smiles back and nods, "'Twas nothin'." His eyes hover on the unignorable instrument case you were carrying. "Ya headed somewhere?"

"Uhh, yeah," you say, watching the pedestrian stop light turn red again and pouting a bit. You probably won't be late to the performance but you'd miss most of final rehearsal. "Nueva Hall. I have a cello performance in a bit."

"Nueva Hall.. That fuckin' massive, fancy lookin' museum along 5th Ave?" he asks, his eyebrows rising a bit from amazement. "Didn't know you were a big shot musician. Let me get for ya, then." He swings the case from your torso and starts walking across the street before you could protest.

"Hey!" you exclaim, running after him, dodging the other pedestrians walking past you.

"It's a bit distant from here, innit? Let me take you there, I got time. Wouldn't want you to croak before the big show," he jests, turning around and walking backwards. "If it's fine with you, [Name], of course."

You weren't too keen on traveling alone; you only did so so that your parents would think you were independent enough. You consider it for a few moments. "Are you sure I wouldn't be bothering you with this?"

"'Course not. 'Was the one who suggested, wasn't I?" He smirks before turning back around to walk properly and you catch up to his side. "What're you playin'?"

"Tchaikovsky, Rococo Variation. It's a cello and orchestra performance and I got to play cello," you say excitedly. "You're in a band, right? It's like a lead singer but cello!"

He smiles softly at your energy, feeling his cheeks warm up a bit. "How'd you know I was in a band?" he asks almost teasingly.

"I walked by one of your public concerts with my family. I would've stayed if my parents let me," you answer with a small laugh. "You were amazing, by the way."

"Thanks, mate. You're probably not too bad yourself," he says, chuckling as you playfully hit his shoulder.

It was safe to say you hit it off well, which was surprising since you didn't think you would. You thought your personalities would clash, you being at the quieter side while Hobie, you could hear his ruckus from another dimension (and there was a tiny part of you that was intimidated at him, at first).

You arrived at the venue earlier than expected — still late to rehearsals but not by much. "Hey, thanks again. I really appreciate it," you say to him just outside the concert hall doors.

He handed you your cello and waved off your thank you. "It was a pleasure," he teases and you roll your eyes. "Break a leg, [Name]." You thank him once again before he turns around to leave.

Seeing him walk away gave you an unfamiliar ache in your chest. After a much needed self-courage-boost, you let out a soft but loud enough "Wait." for him to hear. He turns around with a small smile and raises an eyebrow, silently asking you to go on. You wet your lips before taking a deep breathe. "Do you want to stay for the show?"

His smile widens, a handsome grin reaching ear to ear. "Finally. 've been waitin' the entire trip for that offer." He laughs and jogs back to you.

He sits at the back row. When he entered the room, he got a few stares and hushed whispers from the other audiences but he couldn't care less, his attention was unwaveringly stuck on you. It was just rehearsals but it overwhelmed Hobie to think about how you'd do in the real thing. He was entranced by you the entire time. The movement of your bow and the emotions you protrayed. It was magnetic.

Once practice was over, the musicians left the stage for a bit as audiences started to pour in. With guests on the older side with more formal attires, it was so obvious that he was out of place.

Meanwhile, you were panicking a bit because after you got changed out of your school uniform, you neared the stage's curtains to check up on Hobie. Your mouth gapes when you see him sat at the back row, almost directly behind your parents. Your parents! You forgot about your parents!! How did you forget about your parents??! They'd go crazy once they knew that you had invited this boy to your performance — you never invite your friends, let alone anybody, to watch your performances.

The second it was time for the musicians to come on stage, Hobie's head rises from his phone and looks for your figure immediately, smiling once he notices your wardrobe change. It was a simple long-sleeve black dress but it was pretty on you. Hobie thought so.

Your take deep breathes to calm your nerves before situating the cello between your thighs. You wait for the violins, the flutes, and the organ to start playing the intro before propping up the cello's bow. With your head held high, you play the first few notes — the position of your hands finding its own way around the fingerboard like muscle memory.

The music closes to an end, claps and praises erupt the venue. You smile and stand to find Hobie. He was already making his way to you. You leave the cello leaning safely on your chair as you scurry to the stairs of the sides of the stage.

"Hobie!" you greet as you reached him. "How did I do? Was I rushing? What'd you think of it?" you ask, rambling almost. If Spiderpunk gets his adrenaline from his fights, you get it from instances that make your heart feel like its about to burst into a million burnt pieces of flesh in your chest.

He smiles back at you, amused. He's never seen this side of you before. He's never seen anything of you other than your surface-level calmness and pliance. "'ts not usually my thing but I know to appreciate talent. Credit when credit is due and all tha' and, luv, you absolutely smashed it!" he exclaims as quietly as exclaiming can allow, placing both hands on you shoulders and shaking them.

"Thanks," you giggle out, placing your hands on his arm. From the corner of your peripheral vision, you notice your parents on their way to you, confused looks on their faces. Your smile falters as you gently loosen Hobie's hold on you, the adrenaline slowly dying down.

"[Name], amazing as always," your mother says, holding your hand in hers' and caressing your cheek with the other. "Who's your friend?" she quickly asks. Her judgmental eyes scan his appearance from head to toe, attempting to hide her expression with a faux smile.

Hobie was about to introduce himself when you cut him off. "–He's a classmate, Hobie Brown." You look into his eyes apologizing and almost pleading to him to go along with whatever you were about to say. "He came here by pure coincidence, could you believe that?!"

"Yeah, a friend gave me an invitation," he follows up seamlessly, a polite smile on his lips. "'Didn't know your daugh'er was performin'."

"Well, it's a nice surprise, isn't it?" you mother says, pulling you to her side.

Your father had yet to contribute to the conversation so you checked up on hi.. He was glaring at Hobie so harshly you could see burn marks starting to appear on his forehead. "Did you enjoy the show?" he finally asks, tone almost threatening.

Your cheeks start to flush in embarrassment. It wasn't uncommon for your parents to ask about the boys you talk to but it never felt any less humiliating every time it happens. You see each and every one of them get uncomfortable and you couldn't do anything to stop them because they'd think you were hiding something.

"Yeah, I enjoyed [Name]'s performance a lot. You must be very proud of her, Mr. [Last Name]," Hobie answers. You've talked to him long enough to notice the slight teasing in his voice. He smirks at you which makes your father's hands turn into fists.

"Honey," you mother calls, "We'll be late for our dinner reservation. It was really nice to meet you, Hobie, but we have to go." Her smile was still plastered across her face, you wonder why her cheeks hasn't hurt yet. She tells you to collect your stuff and you do so quickly. You bid Hobie an apologetic goodbye before you leave.

On the car to the restaurant, you were given the 'no boyfriends' talk again. You tried to respond with 'mhmm's and 'uh-huh's here and there but you weren't listening to a thing — having heard them repeat the same points many times before. You wondered how to approach Hobie the next day, thinking of stuff to say, how to bring it up, and how to act once he says he doesn't want to get involved with you anymore. It was a shame since you really enjoyed his company.

You wished that Hobie went to school the next day and he did, surprisingly. After classes, you catch up to him leaving the building to speak to him.

You were supposed to explain to him the situation but it seemed he was already up to pace and accepting. "The things is," you pause for a bit, "I really liked hanging out with you.." you confess.

"Hey, wait up!" you yell, running to reach him before he got too far. He paused in his tracks, hands in his vest pockets as he watches you catch your breath. "About yesterday..–"

"Nah, I get it," he interrupts you. "Strict parents and shit. It's cool if your folks don't want you hanging out with me anymore. It sucks but I get it." He was disappointed but chill about the entire thing which made your heart sink. You really didn't want to stop seeing him again. You wondered if he felt the same.

A small gentle smile stretches his lips. "I really liked hanging out with you, too. A lot. Best time I've had in a while, honestly."

You contemplate on what to say next — whether to let them out or not. You mouth gapes open, waiting on your next words. You were about to give him an apology but seeing his eyes, hearing that he liked your company maybe as much as you did, it made the decision so much more difficult. ..Fuck it. "I'd like to continue spending time with you.. even if it meant disobeying my parents. If it's alright with you, of course." You feel your ears heat up as you look down, scared of what the other's reaction might be.

It was rather obvious that Hobie didn't expect it, his eyes widening by a fraction. A big smirk appears on his face as he leans down to catch your eyes. "'Must've left quite the impression on you, huh?" he teases. He watches your eyes roll as you playfully shove his shoulder. "Well, I do love a good rebellion."

"It's not a rebellion."

"It's painfully close then, isn't it?"

[wannabehockeygf]

You All Over Me - Auston Matthews

“‘Cause no amount of freedom gets you clean,

I’ve still got You All Over Me.”

Pairing: Auston Matthews x fem! oc Word Count: Currently 8.2k

Pairing: AM34 x Social Media Manager fem!oc

Warnings: alcohol, smut later on

Notes: (***) indicate chapter change, (---) time skip within chapter, or a seperation from a post or messages. Italics at the beginning of the chapter indicate who's 'pov'(not really cuz we're in third person) we're looking at. BOLD LETTERS LIKE THIS during chapters (excluding posts/the first word of the entire book) indicate location. Locations within Toronto will be more specific, outside of Toronto will be vague.

Story will be continued on my wattpad (same handle) and here, but should prob follow my wattpad because I won't announce new chaps here lol.

***

Toronto.

A place of endless opportunity – bright lights everywhere, bustling city streets, and the sinking feeling in one's stomach when realizing each of the 6 million people in the GTA have their own lives.

It's humbling, truly. Sitting on the subway, heading to a destination, one can't help but wonder about the people around them.

Thoughts don't often dwell on it, but that girl with the pink hair and the septum piercing? She just found out her dad is sick. The guy with the navy blue baseball cap? He just got promoted at work.

Sometimes she wondered if people look at her and wonder what her story is. What brought her to that moment, being in the same place as them.

She doesn't know if they do, but it brings her a sense of normalcy. Weirdly enough, it's one of the only things that makes her feel human when in doubt. Everyone is just trying to get by, right?

And sometimes, that can be especially hard - at least in her case right now.

Moving across the country had never been on Blair's radar until about 4 months ago. She had just finished her first year of law school after sustaining a season-ending, and career-ending, hip injury competing in figure skating last year.

As a little kid, she always wanted to play hockey, but her mom pushed figure skating on her, saying it was more 'feminine.' She didn't like it all that much, but it consumed her life so much that when she lost it, she didn't know what to do with herself.

So, when it blew up in her face, she decided to deny it and work towards making her communications bachelor's degree worth something in law school. Problem was, she hated it.

It drove her mental health into a ditch, and by the time she was finished, she was a shell of who she used to be - and who she used to be was broken too.

She didn't want to live like that anymore.

So, she finally broke things off with her long-term boyfriend, which she probably should've done earlier, and left. Left Vancouver behind to start a new life across the country - in Toronto.

Her music boomed in her headphones as she looked up, seeing that they were at the station she needed to get off at. Standing up, walking off the subway, she climbed up the stairs and faced the unfamiliar streets once again.

She had just come back from a job interview and was heading home to her tiny studio apartment in Trinity-Bellwoods. The job, which required navigating the trenches of Toronto public transit, was at Scotiabank Arena - working for the Toronto Maple Leafs.

Coming from a fan perspective, she had been a Canucks girl her whole life, growing up in Vancouver. But this position of social media manager paid really well, and she wasn't letting team bias get in the way of putting some weight in her pockets.

Seeing the ice could be a little irking for her, sure, but it's not like she was being put out there with a puck and a stick and nothing else other than a pat on the back. She'd just be responsible for the social media platforms. Can't be that hard, right?

They said they'd get back to her within two weeks, and now the waiting starts.

***

Blair

SCOTIABANK ARENA

Blair shoved her face into the badly drawn map the information desk attendant had given her for directions. It really wasn't helping.

"Right... here?" she mumbled, taking a sharp turn without looking up and bumping straight into a firm chest, dropping the paper.

Startled, she let out a little squeal before stepping back to see who she had just run into. "Sorry!" she said, meeting the gaze of a blue-eyed man.

He smiled brightly at her. "All good," he replied, crouching down to pick up the paper and furrowing his brow at it. "What even is this?"

Blair let out an awkward chuckle, moving a lock of dark brown hair away from her face. "A... map? Sorry, I'm just so turned around here." She paused, swallowing hard. "Do you happen to know where I could find a... Brad Treliving?"

"Sure do," the man said, folding up the paper. He seemed about to give it back to her before he held out his other hand for a handshake. "And you are?"

"Blair Hanson," she replied, shaking his hand firmly. This guy must be the happiest man on earth, holding a full-on goofy grin for the entire interaction.

"Nice to meet you, Blair. I'm Mitch," he remarked, freeing her from the handshake and handing her the paper at last.

"Mitch...?" she questioned. As little as she knew about professional settings, she thought you were supposed to introduce yourself with your full name, which 'Mitch' didn't do, if that's even his name.

Mitch laughed, surveying the skeptical look on Blair's face. "You don't know who I am?"

Who did this guy think he was? Blair blinked a couple of times, then pushed her glasses up her nose. "Should I?"

Mitch chuckled again, clearly amused by her confusion. "How new are you here, exactly?"

"Well," she started, crossing her arms, "Does it matter? Maybe you should stop expecting people to recognize you on sight. I mean, what are you, Mark, like, a fitness trainer or something?"

Mitch furrowed his eyebrows, his friendly smile fading slightly. "It's Mitch," he paused, running a hand through his dirty blond hair. "Mitch Marner. I play for the team."

Oh. Oh. Blair should have known that, shouldn't she? She felt her face burn up as she started to apologize profusely. "I'm so sorry! I'm just... very new," she admitted, her guard wearing down.

Mitch waved it off, his smile returning. "No worries. So, you were looking for Brad, huh? Big day for you?"

"Yeah," Blair said, feeling a bit nervous under his gaze. "I'm starting as the new social media manager."

Mitch's eyes lit up. "Oh, that's awesome! You'll be handling all the behind-the-scenes stuff, right? Making us look good on Instagram and all that?"

"Pretty much," she laughed, starting to feel more at ease. "I'm still figuring out how I'm going to make a bunch of sweaty hockey players look good, though."

Mitch grinned. "Good luck with that. But seriously, welcome aboard. You'll do great." He gestured down the hallway. "Brad's just around the corner, I'll take you."

"Thank you, Mitch. I appreciate it," she said, falling into step beside him.

"No problem," Mitch replied, walking with an easy confidence that made Blair envious. "You'll find that everyone here is pretty welcoming. It can feel like a big family, especially once you get to know the guys."

Blair laughed. "Oh, sure. I'm sure I'll fit right... in." She trailed off, her eyes widening as Mitch pushed open a big double door. She first spotted the man she was looking for, Brad Treliving, standing at the head of a big conference table, along with the entire Maple Leafs roster seated around it.

She swallowed hard, standing frozen in place while everyone's heads turned towards her. Mitch placed a friendly hand on her shoulder, "This her?"

Brad Treliving looked up from the papers he was holding, a welcoming smile spreading across his face. "Yes, it is. Come on in, Blair."

Blair forced her feet to move, taking tentative steps into the room. If she wasn't nervous before, she was now, with every pair of eyes scrutinizing her. She offered a polite smile, trying to hide her nerves. "Um... Hi," she said, approaching Brad and standing beside him. "Is this... are we doing this here?"

Brad chuckled softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Yes, Blair. I thought it might be good for you to meet everyone right away. This is the team you'll be working with closely, after all."

She swallowed again, feeling the weight of the moment pressing down on her. "Okay, sure. Hi, everyone."

The players nodded and mumbled their greetings, some offering small smiles. Blair could feel her heart pounding in her chest, but she forced herself to stay calm. This was what she came here for. This was her new beginning.

Brad gestured to a seat at the table, and Blair sat down, her back straight and her hands clasped in her lap. "So, Blair," he began, "We're thrilled to have you on board. Should we start with some introductions?"

She nodded, attempting to steady her breath as she glanced around the table. "Well, I'm Blair, as Mr. Treliving said, um..." She paused, fumbling with her fingers under the table. "I moved here from Vancouver a couple of weeks ago. I went to law school for a bit, and I used to figure skate competitively."

A chuckle came from somewhere across the table, and Blair's gaze shot in that direction. Her eyes met those of a tall, muscular, brown-eyed man as he stifled another laugh. "Figure skating, huh? No offense, but what do you know about hockey?"

Blair forced a polite smile, trying not to show her frustration. "None taken. I've been a Canucks fan my whole life, so, a lot more than you'd think."

A lot taken. It was like she had walked into a room with egos inflated to the max.

"Yeah, okay," he replied, his voice carrying a hint of sarcasm as he adjusted his Maple Leafs branded ball cap. "Nice glasses, by the way."

Blair pushed her glasses up her nose, feeling a little self-conscious at this point, and she was about to respond before another man she didn't recognize spoke up. "Auston, lay off. It's not like she's getting on the ice with us."

Auston. That name rang a bell, she thought. Of course, Auston Matthews. Blair made a mental note to remember the faces and names, but for now, she just needed to get through this. Auston rolled his eyes, leaning back as he replied, "Says the one whose wife is a figure skater."

The other man, with strawberry blond hair, tensed up, gaining his composure before he met Auston's gaze. "And how many Olympic gold medals do you have?"

Auston smirked but didn't respond. The tension in the room was palpable, and Blair could feel her anxiety rising again. She took a deep breath, reminding herself that she needed to stay professional. This was her chance to prove herself, and she wouldn't let an arrogant hockey player get to her.

Brad cleared his throat, bringing the attention back to him. "Alright, let's focus, everyone. Blair is here to help us elevate our social media presence, and I expect all of you to cooperate and make her job easier."

The fact that the general manager was talking to the players like they were literal children made Blair tense up even further. This was going to be a long day.

--- 436 TRINITY-BELLWOODS

Blair's phone rang as she shut the door to her apartment. She fished through her bag and pulled it out, seeing her brother's name, and slid to pick up the FaceTime.

She was met with the face of her baby niece, and it instantly warmed her heart. Sometimes, she thought she regretted choosing this type of life instead of settling down and starting a family, but she always brushed those thoughts away. She wasn't ready to be a mother—being the hot, cool aunt was enough for her.

"Hey, munchkin!" she greeted her niece, her voice softening. "Where's your dad?"

Her niece giggled, the camera shaking as she toddled around. "Da-da!" she called, and Blair heard her brother, Sam's, voice in the background.

"Hey, Blair," he said, taking the phone from his daughter and giving her a friendly smile. "How are you? How's the city?"

The stress of the day slowly dissipated as Blair saw the familiar face that brought her comfort. "Yeah, it's... different. Bigger, for sure, but nothing a little walking around can't fix. How's everything back home?"

Sam laughed, adjusting Blair's niece on his lap. "Same old, same old. Lila just started walking, so that's been fun." His face lit up with pride as he talked about his daughter, and Blair couldn't help but smile. Someday, she hoped she had that too.

"She's getting so big!" Blair said, watching as Lila reached for the phone, her chubby fingers grasping at the screen. "And walking already? Wow."

"Yeah, she's a little terror now," Sam joked, tickling Lila's side and making her squeal with laughter. He turned back to the camera, and his smile slowly got replaced with a frown as he looked at Blair's disheveled state. "We miss you, little sis."

Blair took a deep breath, feeling a wave of homesickness wash over her. "I miss you guys too. It's been a crazy day. I'm just trying to adjust, you know?"

Sam chuckled, attempting to lighten the mood. "Hey, you've dealt with worse, right? Remember when that one coach at nationals—"

"Sam! Don't!" Blair squealed, not wanting to be reminded of that. Figure skating might have been her entire life, but it was also the most traumatizing thing she had ever gone through.

Sam waved it off, returning the conversation to safer waters. "Whatever. But you got through that, right? You can get through anything, Blair. Toronto ain't nothing." He joked, trying to offer her more comfort.

Blair honestly felt bad for people who hadn't experienced having a big brother because they were literally the best. He was her only one, yet his words could always bring a smile to her face. "Yeah, you're right. Thanks, Sam. I needed that," she replied, smiling back at him.

"Anytime," Sam said, giving Lila a kiss on the forehead. "Hey, if you ever need to talk, you know we're just a phone call away. Don't be a stranger, okay?"

"I won't," Blair promised, feeling a bit lighter. "Give Lila a big hug from me."

"Will do," Sam said, waving as Lila babbled in the background. "Take care, sis."

"You too," Blair said, ending the call and setting her phone down on the coffee table. She took a deep breath, looking around her tiny studio apartment. The walls were still bare, and the only furniture she had was a small bed and a desk. It wasn't much, but it was a start.

A new start. Her new start.

***

Auston

SCOTIABANK ARENA

Auston Matthews was always straightforward with people. He thought that was a good quality, but recently, it seemed quite the opposite. His friends liked him, though, even though they butted heads sometimes. That made him not an asshole, right?

Through some light stalking, Auston had found Blair's Instagram the next day, and was actively scrolling through it, hunched over and everything while in the locker room. He didn't have shame doing it, because they might not have liked each other, but damn she was hot.

It started innocently, perhaps curious, when he searched her name at the gym the night before and saw that Mitch had already followed her. He even looked around before he tapped on it to make sure no one was looking, even though he was the only one there, and he'd been hooked ever since.

It was surprising that he wasn't drooling currently, as he was elbow-deep in her feed fifteen minutes before warmups. Mitch, who had been trying to hype the whole team up for their season home opener, frowned when he saw Auston didn't even glance up from his phone.

"Yo, Matthews!" Mitch exclaimed, trying to get Auston's attention. Auston glanced up, trying to find the source of the noise. His eyes scanned the room until they met Mitch's, whose eyes narrowed at Auston. "What?" Auston said, his tone annoyed.

"What?" Mitch mimicked Auston, mocking him as he rolled his eyes, "We have a game in fifteen minutes and you're glued to your phone. What's so interesting, anyway?"

Auston put his phone down on the bench as he started to put a glove on. "Nothing. I mean, nothing important. It can wait." He stated.

William Nylander, another one of their teammates, took the opportunity to snatch Auston's phone on the bench. He thought it would be an innocent prank to get him to flinch, but his face lit up when he saw it was still unlocked.

"Aw, you guys gotta see this," William said, quickly standing up and holding the phone out of Auston's reach.

Auston lunged for his phone, but with his gloves on, it was a futile effort. "Willy, fuck off and give it back." he snapped, his annoyance evident.

William grinned mischievously and darted away, holding the phone high. "What are you so worried about, Auston? Is it your secret mistress?" he joked, drawing the attention of a few other players in the locker room.

Mitch stepped forward, grinning at William's antics. "Let's see what's got our boy so hooked," he said, grabbing the phone from William's hand before Auston could protest.

The room fell silent as the players gathered around Mitch. Auston could only watch in horror as his teammates stared at Blair's Instagram feed. A few chuckles broke out, and Auston's face flushed with embarrassment.

"Man, she's cute," William remarked, nudging Auston playfully as he handed his phone back. "No wonder you've been glued to your phone."

Auston felt his frustration bubbling within him as he finally snatched the phone from William's hand. "I know she's cute, that's why I was looking at it, genius. No other reason."

"Whatever you say, buddy," Mitch said, rolling his eyes as he put his own gloves on, "No harm in trying anything, right? I mean, no rules are saying that we can't–"

Auston sat up from the bench quickly in his defense. "I'm not–" He paused, looking around to see that everyone's eyes were on him which made him decide to sit back down, "I'm not going to try anything, okay? I can do way better than some figure skater media manager or whatever."

The locker room fell into an awkward silence after Auston's defensive outburst. Mitch exchanged a glance with William before deciding to break the tension.

"Alright, let's get our heads in the game," Mitch said, clapping his hands to grab everyone's attention. "We have a season opener to win."

Auston kept his head down, focusing on putting on the rest of his gear. The other players started to shift their attention back to the game, the momentary distraction fading away. Auston could feel the weight of their looks, though, and he knew he'd have to find a way to get everyone to forget about it.

And he knew how to do that, precisely. He had to push away the subject – Blair – as much as possible, and that's exactly what he was going to do.

Tagged Location: Toronto, Ontario

austonmatthews: Thanks for the awesome home opener 💙🤍💙 @/morganrielly @/marner_93

♥ Liked by marner_93, williamnylander, and 73297 others.

Comments: marner_93: 🔥🐐💯

mapleleafs: Leafs nation has the PASSION

random: Auston one chance please

matthewknies: Arizona boys doing what they do best ↳ williamnylander: ice hockey...? ↳↳matthewknies: shhhhh

random: cup this ssn!? ↳ random: 1967

---

BAR DEM

"Another round?" William cheered loudly, urging his teammates on as he flipped his head of sweaty blond hair back. He was drunk – quite literally the entire team was as they celebrated their season opener win, and had what seemed like too many rounds of shots in the upscale bar downtown. Another one couldn't hurt, right?

Auston nodded towards William, approaching the bartender and placing his forearm on the sticky bartop, his credit card placed deliberately between his fingers. He waved over the young woman manning the bar until she noticed him, brushing her hair over her shoulder as she stood infront of him. "What can I get ya?"

Auston smirked, his eyes scanning the bartender head to toe. "Another round of shots for the best puck players in the league," he said, his words slightly slurring together at the end. He gave the bartender a wink before handing over his credit card.

Auston's inner dialogue, although absolutely plastered, was screaming at him to not do something he'd regret, but he decided to ignore it. The bartender flushed as she quickly pulled out the shot glasses from under the bar, then bent over slightly to grab the team's choice of tequila from the wall of alcohol. Auston's eyes, unfortunately, betrayed him at the moment but eventually found hers again. "What's your name, baby?"

The bartender's cheeks turned a light shade of pink as she glanced up at Auston, her movements slowing as she poured the shots. "It's Natalie," she replied, avoiding his gaze momentarily before meeting his eyes again with a shy smile.

Auston grinned, unapologetically eye-fucking the bartender once again. "Nice to meet you, Natalie. I'm Auston."

"I know who you are," she said, her voice barely audible over the noise of the bar. Auston raised a brow, leaning closer to Natalie, "Really? Then who am I?"

Natalie's blush deepened as she filled the last shot glass. "You're Auston Matthews. Everyone here knows who you are," she replied, her voice steady despite her shyness.

Auston adjusted his ball cap, which he was wearing backward before he focused on Natalie again. Even while wasted, he couldn't lie – he loved the attention. "Well, it's nice to know I'm famous," he joked, his words still slurred. "When do you get off tonight?"

Natalie hesitated, glancing around to see if anyone was watching her too closely. She met Auston's gaze again, her blush deepening. "Couple of hours," she said quietly, trying to maintain a professional demeanor despite her flustered state.

Auston grinned wider, sensing her interest. "Maybe you can join us for a drink later," He said, his gaze flickering to her lips for a split second, "We could... get to know each other."

Natalie bit her lip before rolling her eyes, "We'll see," She said, swiping Auston's card through the machine and turning the tablet around for his signature. He frowned slightly, scribbling on the screen before Natalie slid the tray of shots toward him, "Have a good night, Mr. Matthews."

Auston opened his mouth to reply to her, but before he could, Mitch yelled from their booth and waved Auston over. "Auston, stop hitting on the bartender and bring us those shots, would you?"

Auston rolled his eyes at Mitch's interruption but grabbed the tray of shots and made his way back to their booth. The rest of the team cheered as he approached, slapping him on the back and grabbing their glasses.

"I had this grreatt idea, Auston," Mitch started, right after he downed the shot the second he got it, "You've got the hots for our new media manager right? Well... I have her number!" He slurred, the alcohol clearly hitting him as much as anybody else.

"Okay?" Auston replied without missing a beat. He had an uncanny ability of being able to look like he didn't care about things, even if he did, and this was one of those times. "Why? And... how does this affect me?"

"I'm a nice guy, I make it my personal duty to get to know everyone on staff," Mitch leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper despite the loud music and chatter around them, "And, how does this affect you? Come on, you were looking at her pictures with more passion than you play our game, Tone."

Auston's jaw tightened as he sat back on one of the worn-out leather sofas, "I don't want anything to do with that prissy 'businesswoman'" He scoffed, using his fingers to make mock quotations.

Mitch rolled his eyes, talking louder this time. "Well, here's your one chance then. I've got Blair's number right here," he said, pulling out his phone and waving it teasingly in front of Auston.

Auston hesitated for a moment before snatching the phone out of Mitch's hand, his fingers fumbling on his own phone screen as he copied the number down. Yeah, okay, he might've absolutely detested the thought of actually being with someone like Blair, but casual, no-strings affairs were his specialty.

After he was done, he slipped his phone back into his pocket and handed Mitch's back. "There. Now fuck off and let's have fun, yeah?" He said, to which Mitch gave him a smirk back.

***

Blair

PRIVATE MESSAGES 2:43 AM

???: I got your number babe Cnt fuckin believe he gotb to yous before meeee Gna tell his wife lmaoooo Im sooooo fuckshng wastped rnight nkowww I took thnis grl hime Can't stolp thisnkinf aboust u thouglh Need a girl likes u in my lifne

8:01 AM

Blair: What? I think you have the wrong number And, word of advice, never drunk text someone ever again.

436 TRINITY-BELLWOODS

Blair woke up to her alarm. She squinted at the bright screen and saw several messages from an unknown number. Rubbing her eyes, she tried to make sense of the jumbled text, feeling a mix of confusion and annoyance. Who would send something like this at such an ungodly hour?

Setting her phone back on her nightstand, Blair groaned and rolled out of bed. The small studio apartment felt even tinier in the morning light, but she had no time to dwell on that. She had her first full day at work ahead of her, and she was determined to make a good impression despite the rocky start with the team. Or, atleast, with a certain person.

She had been in Toronto for about a month now, and it felt as if she hadn't gotten a good nights sleep since. The sooner she got more comfortable with her new place, the sooner she'd be comfortable in her new life.

She quickly showered, dressed in a professional yet comfortable outfit, and made herself a quick breakfast. Her phone buzzed again, and she reluctantly picked it up.

PRIVATE MESSAGES 8:32 AM

???: Oh fuck My bad Right number tho This is Auston Matthews

Blair: Did you even read what you texted me? Completely inappropriate. Who gave you my number?

Fivehead: Look, I'm sorry. Was pretty wasted last night. Didn't mean to make you uncomfortable Or whatever Read 8:34 AM

Fivehead: Mitch did. He was also pretty drunk

Blair: Asshole.

Fivehead: What?

Blair: What?

Fivehead: Me or him?

Blair: Him.

Fivehead: Oh, so I'm not an asshole?

Blair: No, you too.

Fivehead: You can't just call me an asshole

Blair: Who's stopping me?

Fivehead: I could get you fired.

Blair: You wouldn't do that. I thought you said you needed a girl like me in your life?

Fivehead: Better stop talking before I actually do it.

Blair: Make me.

Auston's typing bubble came up for a few moments, then stopped, but his reply came a couple of minutes later.

Fivehead: Whatever you say Cya in a few, princess Or would you prefer "your majesty" ? Read 8:42 AM

--- SCOTIABANK ARENA

Blair hunched forward in her office chair, the clacking of keyboards around her becoming more irritating by the second. She was told she would have her own office, but today, since renovations were going on, the general manager sent another woman to share the space with Blair.

The red-headed woman who went by the name of Jess was nice enough, but she was so focused that it drove Blair nuts. I mean, seriously, in the three hours they'd been at work, she hadn't stopped typing - other than when she would take sips of her strong-smelling herbal tea.

That's why when someone knocked on the door, Blair immediately shot up, thankful for a sound other than that goddamn keyboard. She quickly scurried to the door, passing by Jess who was unbothered by the distraction.

Blair opened the door to see Auston Matthews standing there, leaning against the doorframe with a smug grin on his face. She fought the urge to roll her eyes as she took a step back, crossing her arms, "Can I help you?"

Auston's grin widened as he took a step into the office, closer to Blair. "Thought I'd come say hi. You know, our last interaction wasn't all that great."

Blair raised an eyebrow, her arms still crossed. "And texting me at 2 am drunk off your ass, trying to fuck me is what you consider 'not all that great?'" She replied, using her fingers to make mock quotations.

Auston's grin faltered for a moment, but he quickly recovered, adopting a more serious expression. "Okay, I get it. I was an asshole, and I'm sorry. Can we start over?"

Blair rolled her eyes, "I don't think I can after that string of texts," She said, walking forward to back Auston out into the hallway. She shut the door halfway before continuing, "Do you need anything? Or are you just here to distract me."

Auston chuckled and rolled his eyes back. "Yeah, actually. We need you downstairs. Something about an on-ice interview for TikTok?"

"Are you serious? I have to get on the ice? I don't even have skates." Blair remarked, slightly panicked. Auston, oblivious to the discomfort he had caused, motioned for her to follow him. "We're a hockey team. We have extra skates for everyone, come on."

Blair reluctantly followed Auston downstairs to the ice. There, she found no other players or people at all, just a selfie stick with a company phone lying by it on a bench. She turned to Auston, quite practically fuming at this point, "Small budget, huh? And I have to interview you?" She said, to which he nodded, "You didn't mention that! You said-"

"These should fit, ma'am." An equipment person interrupted, holding out a pair of white hockey skates.

Blair forced a smile as she took them and thanked the employee before turning back to Auston, "You really should work on your communication skills," she muttered, sitting down on a bench to put the skates on.

Auston smirked, leaning against the wall. "You're a fast learner. You'll be fine."

Blair rolled her eyes, trying to focus on lacing the skates, but she very quickly realized that these were very different to figure skates. She swallowed hard, not looking up as she struggled to figure out a way to make sure they stayed on.

Seeing her struggle, Auston sighed and walked over. "Let me help," he said, kneeling down in front of her.

"I don't need your help." Blair muttered, quickly angling herself away from where Auston had knelt down.

Auston chuckled softly. "You're not going to get far if you can't tie them properly," he said, his tone surprisingly gentle. Blair huffed, realizing he was right but still not wanting to be in this situation in the first place. Reluctantly, she turned back towards him, allowing him to help.

Auston expertly laced the skates, his fingers moving with practiced ease. Blair watched him silently, feeling a mix of frustration and just straight up hatred. Once he finished, he stood up and offered her a hand. "Ready to go?" he asked, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

Blair looked at his hand, and then back up at him before completely disregarding his help and getting up on her own, although it wasn't easy in the new bulky skates.

"Always so independent, huh, princess?" Auston said, trying to hold back his laughter as Blair wobbled trying to walk out to the ice.

Blair managed to steady herself, her annoyance bubbling just beneath the surface. "Whatever, let's just get this over with."

***

Auston

YYZ - TORONTO PEARSON INTL. AIRPORT

Roadies - an inevitable event for a hockey player.

Usually, the Leafs schedule tried to make it so that they'd visit multiple cities during a roadie, getting it all over with and rewarding them with a long homestand, which is the way most of the players liked it. Today, though, they had a one-off trip down to Raleigh, just to fly back the same day.

Auston had decided to engross himself with his teammates today and pretend to be humble, flying on the team plane instead of his own private jet. He trudged on, a backpack slung over his shoulder and his dark hair sticking out of the beanie he was wearing.

Since he was running late, no one saw him at the terminal or even expected him to fly with them, so when he walked on everyone turned their heads. Mitch even shot to his feet, tilted his head in confusion, then finally waved him over.

Auston took a deep breath, hoping they would just talk normally, about the game or something, but braced himself for the inevitable other conversation as he walked down the aisle.

Mitch grinned widely as Auston approached, clearly eager to tease him. "Look who decided to slum it with the rest of us," he said, playfully nudging Auston's shoulder as he took a seat next to him.

Auston chuckled, shoving his backpack into the overhead bin and plopping down in the seat. "Yeah, yeah, I figured I'd give you guys the pleasure of my company for once."

Mitch's grin widened as he leaned back in his seat, rolling his eyes. "Pleasure, huh? More like a rare sighting of the famous Auston Matthews. What's next, you actually sitting with us on the bus?"

Auston rolled his eyes, adjusting his beanie. "Don't push it, Marner."

William leaned over the aisle, holding out his phone with a grin as wide as Mitch's. "This you?" He said, gesturing to the screen. Auston furrowed a brow as he leaned closer, but when he saw the Maple Leafs TikTok and a nicely manicured hand in frame along with Auston himself, he immediately looked the other way.

Auston groaned inwardly, realizing that the infamous TikTok interview had made its rounds. "Yeah, that's me," he said, pretending to not care as he slouched in his seat. "What's your point?"

William chuckled, pulling his phone back. "What's my point? Dude, are those hockey boots she's wearing? How'd you get Blair to do that?"

"Crazy thing, Willy, normal people don't carry skates around with them," Auston replied, his tone slightly annoyed, "She had to borrow them from equipment. No big deal."

William raised his hands in mock surrender, "Alright, don't kill me, but damn, I would be lying if I said I wasn't a little scared of her."

Auston scoffed, scratching his cheek. "Scared of her? What's there to be scared of, Willy?" He remarked with a passion. Auston, if asked, would describe Blair as many things, but 'scary' was not one of them."

William leaned back in his seat, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Oh, I don't know, maybe the fact that she seems to have no problem putting you in your place?" he teased, drumming his fingers on the tray table, "I mean, seriously, who ever tries to put you in your place? I don't know why we haven't started calling you Mr. Ego yet."

Auston shook his head defensively, "First of all, ouch, and second of all, there's a difference between 'putting me in my place' and just being annoying and bitchy," He sat up slightly, his posture straightening, "And which one is she, again?"

William chuckled, clearly enjoying Auston's discomfort. He folded his arms casually. "Come on, Auston. You've got to admit, she's got you wrapped around her finger."

Auston scowled, his annoyance growing. "I am not wrapped around anyone's finger, Willy. She's just...holy shit." He suddenly said, catching a glimpse of Mitch's phone beside him.

Tagged Location: Toronto, Ontario

blairhanson_: last warm day ever :(

♥ Liked by han.samwich, marner_93, and 1072 others.

Comments:

random: holy

han.samwich: Come back to van pls, it may be rainy but atleast it doesn't snow

↳ blairhanson_: It's also a complete ripoff of a city I fear

↳↳han.samwich: Fair point, Canucks better though

↳↳↳ marner_93: Ouch

↳↳↳↳ han.samwich: MITCH MARNER ????

random: what a hottie, age?

williamnylander: make me look this good on the ice please

↳ blairhanson_: I will try <3

---

"Hmm?" Mitch said, straightening his head up from his phone, seemingly inconspicuous to Auston's reaction.

"Give that to me." Auston muttered, ripping the phone from Mitch's hand and holding it up to his own face. It was a simple Instagram post from Blair, nothing overly special, but Auston found himself unable to rip his eyes off of it.

It only took a few moments of Auston gawking at Mitch's phone before everyone burst into laughter, including other members of the team around them. "See something you like?" Mitch teased.

Auston felt his face heat up, but he quickly regained his composure, throwing the phone back at Mitch. "Whatever, man. Just checking her out. Nothing wrong with that."

Mitch caught his phone, grinning ear to ear. "Sure, Tone, sure. You're just checking her out for work purposes, right?"

Auston rolled his eyes again, slouching further into his seat. "You guys got me fucked up if you think I've never seen you checking out a pretty girl before."

"Yeah, but I think her eyes are up there," William remarked, looking over at Mitch's phone where the photo was still pulled up. He looked at Auston, then at the photo, then back before smiling. "You think she's pretty?"

"Fuck, I..." Auston facepalmed, running his hands down his face. He couldn't believe he was in a situation where his teammates were bugging him about a girl, at their big age. "She's not bad to look at, okay? Can we drop it?"

The laughter from his teammates finally began to die down as everyone took their seats. "Okay, we'll stop... for now." Mitch conceded.

---

RALEIGH, NORTH CAROLINA

The Leafs took a tight victory against the Hurricanes that night in Raleigh, with a final score of 5-4 in overtime and a surprising Auston Matthews hat trick.

Fans in the arena booed him as he left the ice, but he didn't care. Drenched in sweat, he trudged into the visiting locker room with a big smile on his face, his glove out to fist bump anyone who wanted.

Auston pulled his jersey off, and left in only his compression shirt and chest protector was given the belt by last game's MVP, Matthew Knies. "Good shit, Tone, let's keep it going back home," Matt said, giving Auston a firm pat on the back.

With a smile just as wide, Auston sat in his stall, belt thrown over his shoulder and the three pucks from his hat trick in his other hand as he posed for a photo. William, as the second star of the game, posed with him, putting an arm around Auston.

Later that night, on the team bus to the airport, Auston leaned his head against the window, watching the city lights blur by as he tried not to fall asleep. All he wanted to do at the moment was collapse on his bed and have his dog cuddle up next to him, but he'd have to wait a few more hours.

As his eyelids got heavier and heavier, he felt his phone buzz in his pocket and he shook the sleep out of him as he fished it out and brought it to his face.

PRIVATE MESSAGES 10:07 PM

Princess: No fucking way.

Auston: ?

Princess: Do I really have to post that?

Auston: What are you talking about?

Princess: *insert MVP photo*

Auston: Wow! Who are those handsome guys?

Princess: Is there one without the egoist on the right?

Auston: Sure But he wasn't the MVP Was he, princess? See the game?

Princess: I did. Can I have his number?

Auston: Willy's? Why?

Princess: He's cute.

Auston: You're cute.

Princess: What?

Auston: You can read, right? Plus I know you're just asking that to make me jealous

Princess: Not everyone's obsessed with you.

Auston: Sure. See you tomorrow Read: 10:12 PM ***

Blair TORONTO TRANSIT COMMISION - DUNDAS ST. WEST at OSSINGTON AVE

“I’m just wondering why he has your personal Instagram. I mean, isn’t he basically your client?” Sam asked, holding his phone up to his face while he sipped a frozen margarita. Blair’s entire family had decided to go on an impromptu trip to Cancun, and when she realized her work schedule interfered heavily she was devastated. So, instead of tan lines and sun-bleached hair, she was doomed to a gloomy November in Toronto. 

Blair was looking up at the directional signs as she tried to navigate her way through the busy subway station while her brother was on FaceTime. The 8 a.m. rush was definitely a real thing, and being in a new city turned her around even further, “You know he’s a human too, right?” Blair remarked, her eyes darting wildly around at the multitude of directions she could go.

Blair heard Sam chuckle through the one Airpod she was wearing, “Sure, but commenting on your posts? Doesn’t he have a wife?” He replied, his words barely audible over the rush of the station.

Blair sighed, glancing down at her phone for a moment before finding the right platform and walking towards it, “Yes, Mitch has a wife, but I don’t see the point. He’s trying to be nice, and he’s a lot nicer than some of the other assholes there.”

"Okay, okay," Sam relented with a chuckle. "But what about the other players? Are they really that bad?”

Blair adjusted her bag as she stepped onto the train, glancing around for a seat before giving up and holding onto one of the poles. “Most of them are fine. I’m talking about Mr. Rocket Richard every year.” She replied, her tone annoyed.

 Sam's voice crackled through the earbud in her ear, his curiosity unabated. “Who? Oh, Auston Matthews?” He asked with a chuckle, “I thought he seemed like a pretty nice guy, through interviews I’ve seen anyway.”

“Yeah, well, the dude puts on a real good media face. I would know.” Blair scoffed, shuffling in her purse to find a pack of gum, “I mean, seriously, I wish he could be genuinely nice for one moment in his sad-”

Suddenly, Blair felt a hand tug at her sleeve, and she quickly turned on the balls of her feet to, most likely, tell whoever it is who just touched her to fuck off. Blair was undoubtedly more bark than bite, but being skittish by nature didn’t help that fact. “Hey, how about you-” She started, quieting down as she met the eyes of the man who looked up at her from his seat.

The blond cracked a smile, then laughed. And what an addicting laugh it was because Blair’s heart immediately skipped a beat at the sound and found herself smiling back. “Rough morning?” William asked, sliding his bag off the seat beside him.

Blair felt a flush rise to her cheeks, partly from the surprise and partly from embarrassment at her earlier irritation. She quickly composed herself, sliding into the now-open seat next to William Nylander. "Yeah, you could say that," she replied with a small smile, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "What are you doing here?"

Sam’s voice came through suddenly. “Blair? What’s happening? Who is that?” He questioned, which caused Blair to not hear whatever William said next. “Sam, I gotta go,” Blair mumbled, her fingers fumbling against her phone for the hang-up button. She looked back at the blue-eyed man, leaning slightly closer to him, “Sorry, what was that?”

William laughed, once again, which Blair simply could not get enough of. “I always take the subway to practice. I like to blend in, plus, beats dealing with traffic.” He repeated as the train began to move.

Blair found herself more intrigued by William than she expected. She wasn’t actually going to try to get to know him unless it was to purposefully get on Auston’s nerves, but she immediately saw this as an opportunity to make a friend, and maybe get some actual action later on. “You never get noticed?” She questioned.

William shrugged as he scratched his cheek, which was already too stubbly for his liking. “Nah, not really,” He started, surveying Blair as she crossed her legs, “Who was that?” 

Blair quickly dropped her phone into her bag, not wanting any further distraction. “Oh, my brother. He was just… curious about how the job is going.” She said, knowing that it wasn’t the full truth but wanting to move on from the topic.

Unfortunately, William didn’t budge. “Ohhh,” He chuckled in realization, “You told him about Tone?”

Blair shifted uncomfortably in her seat at the question. She knew that they were friends and she couldn’t reveal much about her very strong feelings about Auston without offending William, so she offered something simple. “Oh, yeah. He’s been… difficult to work with.”

William snorted, outstretching his arm so it rested on top of the seat Blair was sitting on. “You can just say he’s an ass, no judgment.” He said, casually.

Blair’s eyes widened at William's straightforward comment. She hadn't expected him to be so blunt about Auston, especially considering they were teammates. Despite her own frustrations with Auston, she didn't want to badmouth him to someone who knew him personally.

"Well, yeah," Blair replied carefully, choosing her words. "He can be... challenging at times."

William chuckled, shaking his head. "Challenging, huh? That's one way to put it. Auston has a way of rubbing people the wrong way."

Blair nodded, relieved that William seemed to understand without her having to elaborate further. She shuffled in her bag for her water bottle, finding it and unscrewing the cap. "Yeah, you could say that. But he's not all bad. I think he means well... sometimes."

William raised an eyebrow, his expression curious. "You think so? I think he’s just into you.”

Blair was in the middle of taking a sip of water as William spoke, and when the words hit her, she choked on it, a small amount of it coming out of her nose as she tried to catch her breath. 

“Woah, Blair, you okay?” William questioned, sitting up and placing a firm hand on her back. People around them in the subway stared as Blair wiped the wetness off her nose with her sleeve.

Blair coughed and cleared her throat, trying to regain her composure after choking on her water. William's concern was evident as he patted her back gently. She straightened up, angling her body towards William as she furrowed her eyebrows. “What do you mean he’s into me?” She said through gritted teeth.

William pulled his hand back, realizing his comment had caught Blair off guard. He glanced around at the other passengers on the subway, who were surreptitiously watching the exchange with curiosity.

"Sorry, didn't mean to startle you," William said softly, his voice tinged with concern. "I just… Nevermind.”

The crease inbetween Blair’s eyebrows deepened as she leaned into William further, “Nevermind? You can’t just say that and say ‘nevermind’” She remarked, trying to keep her composure

William, once again laughed like he always did when he was uncomfortable and put his hands up in a mock surrender. “Hey, Bro code, I can’t tell you anything else.”

Blair stared at William, her mind racing with questions. She hadn't expected him to suggest that Auston might have interest in her, whether that be sexual or romantic or some other way - It was a notion that caught her completely off guard, and she struggled to process it.

"Bro code?" Blair repeated, her voice incredulous. "What does that even mean?"

William chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his neck. "Look, I probably shouldn't have said anything. It's just... Auston can be hard to read sometimes, but I've seen the way he acts around you."

Blair frowned, crossing her arms defensively. "And what exactly does that mean?"

William hesitated, glancing around at the other passengers who were still discreetly watching their conversation. Outstretching his arm once again, he looked forward at the wall as he responded. “Okay, well, he looks at your pictures.”

Blair's mind raced as she processed William's words. Auston looking at her pictures? She hadn't even considered the possibility that he might view her differently than their professional interactions suggested.

"He looks at my pictures?" Blair repeated, her voice a mix of surprise and skepticism.

William nodded slowly, his expression serious. "Yeah. I mean, I've caught him a few times scrolling through your Instagram,” He laughed, the words keeping flowing without him noticing, “Like the other day, on the way to Raleigh, I was talking to him and Mitchy was scrolling his phone and saw your post. Auston grabbed that phone so fast, it was like-”

He abruptly stopped, swallowing hard as he turned toward Blair with a realization that he definitely overshared. “I… that didn’t happen. I just made it all up. April… fools?” He tried to lie, shrugging jokingly.

Blair stared at William, wide-eyed with her jaw dropped for a few moments before she took a breath, composing herself. “It’s November, Will,” She said, nudging him, “What the fuck? Auston Matthews? Really?” She said, more to herself than to William, but it was audible.

“Blair, please don’t tell…” William started, reaching out to place a hand on her shoulder, steadying her. Right then, the train stopped at a station, and Blair abruptly shot up, William’s arm falling limply to his side. “I gotta go.” She murmured, quickly stepping off at the nearest door before William could get another word out. 

As Blair stepped off the subway platform, she felt a rush of conflicting emotions swirling inside her. William's unexpected revelation about Auston had caught her completely off guard, leaving her reeling with disbelief and confusion.

She walked briskly through the bustling station, one she didn’t know at all, at that, her mind racing as she tried to make sense of what William had said. Auston Matthews, looking at her pictures? Could it really be true? And if so, what did it mean?

Blair shook her head, trying to push aside the thoughts that threatened to overwhelm her. It didn’t matter. Auston Matthews was the most rude, full of himself, selfish man and she would be damned if she let herself-

And then, she felt her phone buzz. As she kept her pace, walking in who-knows-what direction, she pulled it out of her purse, and it felt like her eyes were about to pop out of her head at the notification.

New Follower: austonmatthews

***

SCOTIABANK ARENA

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Auston demanded, his hands gripping the smooth, polished leather of the chair's armrests. He took a deep breath, the scent of the office's faint cologne and clean air mingling in his nose as he exhaled. Meeting the eyes of his general manager, he added, "Sorry, language."

"Look, Auston," Brad began, his tone measured, "We're not asking you to do anything outrageous."

Auston furrowed his eyebrows, his glare piercing straight into Brad's soul. "Last time I checked, I'm an adult and I can be involved with anyone I want to. Surely you can't actually ask me to do this, right?"

Brad placed his hands on the mahogany desk, the rich grain reflecting the dim light of the office. He met Auston's intense gaze with equal resolve. "Actually, we can. This is an important event for our sponsors, and it's a 'bring your significant other' type of thing. We can't have you show up alone and hit on every breathing human woman there."

Auston gritted his teeth, feeling his frustration bubbling like molten lava ready to erupt. He leaned back in the chair, crossing his arms defensively, the leather creaking under his weight. "So, what, you want me to find someone to bring along as arm candy for the night? Just to make you and the sponsors happy?"

Brad sighed, his expression weary as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "I know this isn't your idea of fun, but it's important for the team and our image."

Auston scoffed, his gaze darting around the room as if searching for an escape route. "What makes you think that? Am I just some piece of meat?"

Brad sighed again, the sound heavy with exasperation. He picked up his phone, which had been sitting face-down on his desk, and scrolled for a few seconds before turning it around to show Auston. It was a video of him and a bartender from their post-season opener night out, sloppily making out outside of the bar.

Auston blinked, glaring at the video posted on Twitter by a fan. "Fucking hell, why did no one tell me that existed?" His cheeks burned with embarrassment, the heat spreading up to his ears. The truth was that he regretted that night, but no one knew that but him.

"You have really good publicists, Auston. Most of it is deleted; this is just something they haven't gotten to yet," Brad replied, putting his phone back down with a heavy thud. "Do you see what I mean, though? We can't have something like that surface after such an important event."

Auston stared at Brad, a storm of frustration and resignation swirling in his eyes. The video on Brad's phone was a stark reminder of the consequences of his actions, even those moments he thought were private. He rubbed his temples, the pressure building like a headache.

"Fine," Auston finally relented, his tone begrudging. "But I'm not promising anything. This is just for the team's sake, not because I actually want to be there."

Brad nodded, his expression softening slightly at Auston's reluctant agreement. "I understand, Auston. Just find someone who can handle the spotlight and won't cause any drama."

Auston rolled his eyes, leaning back further in the chair and crossing his arms tighter. "Right. Because that's so easy to find."

Brad chuckled, though the tension in the room remained thick as fog. "You're Auston Matthews. I'm sure you'll manage."

With a dismissive wave of his hand, Auston stood up from his chair. "Yeah, yeah. I'll figure it out." He turned and left Brad's office, the door clicking shut behind him with a finality that matched his mood. Pulling out his phone, he scrolled through his contacts, contemplating who he could ask to accompany him to the event. As he turned a corner in the hallway, his eyes still on his phone, disaster struck.

Out of nowhere, hot coffee splashed over Auston, soaking his shirt and causing him to yelp in surprise. He heard a squeak and then a thud as his phone hit the floor. "Shit, sorry, I didn't see you... there."

Blair looked up at Auston, her eyes wide with a mixture of bewilderment and anger. "What the fuck, Auston, watch where you're going?" she exclaimed, her voice echoing in the empty hallway.

Auston grimaced, his eyes unintentionally drawn to the lacy red bra now visible beneath her coffee-stained white blouse. He didn't say anything else, only glanced around to make sure no one else was watching before opening the door to a random closet and pulling them both inside.

Inside the cramped, dark closet, Blair immediately yanked her arm free from Auston's grip, glaring at him with a mix of confusion and frustration. "What the hell are we doing in here?"

Auston glanced around their tiny, dimly lit surroundings, the smell of cleaning supplies and dust filling his nostrils. "Look down, Blair," he hissed.

She followed his instruction, looking down at her stained blouse and realizing her bra was completely visible. "Oh fuck, holy shit!" she exclaimed, her voice too loud for comfort.

Auston glanced at the door, then back at Blair, his discomfort clear. And even though he tried to resist, the sight of Blair’s wet shirt clinging to her curves did nothing less than make him adjust himself awkwardly. "Look, I'm sorry, okay? It was an accident. Do you have like, a jacket or something in your bag?"

"Close your eyes!" she squealed, feeling his gaze on her chest. "And, no, of course I don't today."

Auston squeezed his eyes shut, turning his head away to give Blair some semblance of privacy in the tiny, dark closet. He could hear her rummaging through her bag, cursing under her breath. "Seriously, Blair, I'm sorry," Auston said, his voice muffled as he spoke through clenched teeth. "I didn't mean to—"

"Save it," Blair snapped, finding a tissue in her bag and trying to dab at the stain, which did little to help. "Just my luck. Of all people to bump into—"

Suddenly, Auston put a finger to Blair's lips, stopping her from talking as he heard a noise in the hallway. "Shh, shut up for a second." He hissed, listening intently.

"Auston?" Mitch called, his voice getting closer. He crouched down to pick up Auston's phone from the floor, recognizing it from the distinctive case. He figured Auston must be around somewhere if he had dropped his phone.

Blair's breath hitched as Auston's finger rested against her lips. Her irritation was still bubbling just beneath the surface, but she kept silent, listening to the footsteps approaching the closet door. Auston kept his eyes squeezed shut, clearly aware of her presence as well.

Auston finally spoke, his whisper barely audible. "Ok, you've gotta have something to cover up with, right? Maybe—"

"Give me your hoodie." Blair said suddenly, so casually that Auston did a double take. "What?" he echoed, quietly.

"Your hoodie," Blair insisted, her tone firm. "Unless you want me walking around like this."

Auston blinked, his eyes now open despite the darkness of the closet. He didn't want that, eyes on Blair and her see-through shirt even though he had no right to say so. "I'm not—I'm not wearing anything underneath it," he tried to reason.

Blair's glare intensified. "Auston, I don't care. Just give me it," she hissed, tugging at his sleeve.

Auston hesitated for a moment, realizing the predicament he was in. He couldn't exactly walk around shirtless without drawing attention, but leaving Blair in her current state wasn't an option either. With a resigned sigh, he began to pull off his hoodie, the fabric rustling in the confined space. He handed it to her, trying to avoid making eye contact. "Here," Auston said, his voice gruff and his eyes still closed. "Just make it quick."

Blair took the hoodie, her frustration still simmering but appreciating the gesture nonetheless. She turned her back to him, slipping off her stained blouse and quickly pulling on Auston's hoodie. The fabric was warm, still wet from the coffee stain, and besides smelling like it, smelled faintly of his cologne, a detail she tried to ignore as she adjusted the sleeves.

"Auston?" Mitch called out again, his footsteps echoing in the hallway. Auston knew that Mitch wouldn't leave until he found him, and that made their predicament even worse. "Alright, Blair, just think," Auston hissed, "We've gotta figure something out. He's not going to leave."

Blair, now clad in Auston's hoodie, took a deep breath, trying to steady her racing thoughts. They were in a tight spot, literally and figuratively, and the urgency of their situation was growing by the second. She crossed her arms, looking up at him, "Well, go out there then."

"Yeah, right," Auston chuckled quietly, waving a hand as if it was a joke, but when he met Blair's gaze he knew she was serious. "You can't be serious, right?"

Blair stared back at Auston with a determined expression. "Dead serious. I need to get out of here unnoticed, Mitch is not leaving until he finds you, and the longer we stay in here, the worse it looks."

Auston sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "But you're... you're in my hoodie, Blair. If I walk out there shirtless, people will talk."

Blair rolled her eyes, though there was a hint of amusement in her voice. "Let them talk. It's not like they haven't seen you shirtless before," She paused, shuddering from the now cold stain on her shirt underneath. "What, you'd rather me go out there wearing your clothes?"

"No, of course not, I just-" Auston started, but he was cut off as Blair swiftly opened the door a crack big enough for him, hiding herself behind it, and pushing him out into the hallway before shutting the door again.

Auston stumbled slightly as Blair pushed him out into the hallway, his bare chest exposed to the cool air. Mitch quickly turned around from the noise, raising an eyebrow as he glared at the shirtless Auston that had just appeared. "Uh, hey, man, where did you come from? And why do you have no shirt on?"

Auston stood awkwardly in the hallway, his bare chest feeling uncomfortably exposed. Mitch's incredulous stare didn't help the situation either. "Uh, long story," Auston muttered, trying to maintain some semblance of composure. "Just... spilled coffee and went to clean up."

Mitch's eyes narrowed, his skepticism evident. He crouched down, picking up the now-empty Starbucks cup from the ground. "This one? I didn't know you were one for sugar cookie oat lattes."

Auston glanced at the cup Mitch held, trying to formulate a response that wouldn't raise more suspicion. "Yeah, well, I was in the mood for something different," he replied vaguely, shifting uncomfortably under Mitch's scrutiny.

Mitch raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying Auston's explanation. "Right. Well, you dropped your phone." He said, stretching out his arm to hand Auston his phone back.

Auston took his phone from Mitch, offering a tight-lipped smile. "Thanks, Mitch. I've been looking for it" He tucked the phone into his pocket, glancing down the hallway as if considering his next move.

Mitch crossed his arms, still eyeing Auston suspiciously. "You sure you're okay, man? You seem... off."

Auston shrugged nonchalantly, trying to play it cool despite the uncomfortable situation. "Yeah, just one of those days, you know?"

Mitch nodded slowly, clearly not convinced but deciding not to press further. "Alright, well, see you around, I guess."

Auston's eyes widened as he saw Mitch take a step in the direction of the closet. "Mitch!" he blurted out, "Let's go get a coffee, yeah?" he suggested awkwardly, nodding his head in the opposite direction. "Spilled mine anyway."

Mitch raised an eyebrow, clearly still suspicious, but he decided to go along with Auston's suggestion. "Alright, sure. Let's go," he replied, turning away from the closet and heading down the hallway with Auston.

As they walked, Auston kept glancing over his shoulder, hoping that Blair made it out without anyone seeing her.

to be continued!

[propertyofkylar]

teasing your best friend kylar until she snaps <3

f!kylar x f!reader

cw: yandere nonsense - stalking, kidnapping, drugging. dubcon, victim blaming

word count: 2107

Getting to be your best friend was a gift. No, gift was too light of a word. It was the absolute honor of Kylar's life.

She could easily convince herself that life was alright as your best friend because she got to be by your side all of the time. Then, she could go home and work on her drawings of the two of you being in love and more.

But lately, it was getting to be too much. And it was entirely your fault. You knew what you were doing to Kylar. The too-short skirts. The unbuttoned shirts. The lingering touches and kisses to her cheek. Yes, it was all too much for Kylar.

Honestly, she figured she could handle it. But the fact was that there were still other people to worry about. Every time Kylar saw you smiling at someone else or placing a hand on their shoulder...Kylar thought she might explode from rage. Why would you even bother looking at anyone else when she was right there, willing and ready?

At this exact moment, Kylar was standing by the school entrance, watching you talk to someone. She couldn’t even see clearly who it was from the distance, but she knew she fucking hated it. She seethed as she watched you laugh and toss your hair back. What was wrong with you? Why were you even talking to someone other than Kylar?

It made her so angry. First of all, didn’t you know how bad people were? Kylar had tried so many times to warn you, but you always laughed it off and said you could handle it yourself. But clearly you couldn’t, Kylar thought as she reached into her bag and wrapped her small hand around one of her darts. Carefully hiding it in her fist, she took a deep breath in and ran up to you.

“H-hi!” Kylar said, trying to look casual. Her heart skipped a beat at the way you turned and smiled at her. She should be the only one to see you like this. “Um. I-it looks like it’s going to rain...can I walk you home?”

“Yeah, sure,” you gave Kylar a pat on the head as you spoke, which made her blush. “See ya at home, Robin.”

She took your empty hand in hers and the two of you began walking together. “What’s up with you?” You said to her teasingly. Kylar’s grip on her dart tightened. “You seem nervous. Am I that hot today?” You bumped your hip against Kylar’s.

Kylar didn’t answer, just took in a sharp breath. Your smile faltered. “Seriously, Ky. You good? You look kinda off…”

“’m fine,” Kylar muttered.

You frowned, but didn’t push the matter. “Okay…”

Kylar’s eyes darted around as she walked with you, growing further away from everyone else. When you were getting close to her place, she stopped suddenly.

“What’s up, Kylar?”

She bit her lip and pulled her hand away from yours to point behind you. “What is that thing? Do you see that?”

“Hm?” You spun around, and Kylar’s heartbeat quickened. You took the bait! “What are you--ow!” Your words were cut off as Kylar stuck the dart into your neck, and you wavered a minute before starting to fall. She grabbed you and pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head.

“I’m sorry,” Kylar whispered. “But it had to be this way.”

Kylar softly stroked your hair as she sat in your lap. She had watched you in your sleep plenty of times before - during sleepovers and otherwise - but getting to snuggle up to do while doing so felt like a treat. And when you started to stir, a rush of excitement ran through her body.

“Mm?” You blinked groggily and started to look around. Kylar had given you a very strong dose of her homemade sedative, so she wasn’t surprised at this reaction. “What am I...huh? What's happening...?” You tried to move, but were unable to. Kylar had made sure to tie you to the chair extra tightly.

“My love is awake!” Kylar said gleefully, unable to stop herself from clapping her hands together in joy. She buried her face in your neck and smiled against your skin. “I am so happy right now.”

“What...?” Clearly you weren’t getting it. “Kylar, what's going on?”

Kylar pulled back to look in your eyes, which were...filled with fear, for some reason. She frowned slightly. “Sorry. I had to make sure you wouldn't go anywhere. And now you're here and all mine!”

You blinked slowly. “You...did this to me?”

Kylar sighed. She figured it might take you a bit to get used to it. “I had to, my love! You wouldn’t listen to me about the world being bad. And you…” she felt angry just thinking about it. “You were being mean! You were teasing me and flirting with me and I…” Kylar shook her head. “This is what’s right. This is what’s meant to be! Just the two of us together.” She sighed happily and leaned her head on your shoulder.

“Kylar…” she sat up eagerly, anticipating what you had to say. “Man, what the fuck?!”

Kylar felt like her heart shattered. Didn’t you want this too? Isn’t that what you had meant with the teasing?

“I mean, seriously. What the fuck!” You continued. “What am I supposed to do here? You tied me up. Just…what the hell?”

Kylar clenched her fists, feeling anger rise in her, replacing the devastation she had been feeling moments ago. What did she do wrong? No, no. It was the rest of the world that was the problem. The two of you were literally meant to be. Kylar was sure of it. She inhaled sharply and pulled away from you, standing up. You didn’t get it. Clearly, you just didn’t. She had to make sure you understood.

“No…” Kylar mumbled, shaking her head. “This isn’t how it’s supposed to work. It’s not.”

“Can—” your voice was hesitant. You could sense Kylar’s instability. “Can you let me go, Ky? And maybe we can talk about this?”

“No!” Kylar snapped. “No! We don’t need to talk. It’s just the two of us, okay? This is how it’s supposed to be! You don’t get it. That’s okay, my love!” She lit up with a crazed grin. “I can make you get it!” 

Kylar bent over your body, digging her nails into your thighs, as she leaned in and kissed you. You tasted just as sweet as she had always imagined. She would have probably enjoyed it more if you had been a little more willing, but she was okay with waiting until you got to that point. Kylar pulled away slightly with a happy sigh. “My first kiss…” she whispered, before leaning back in and kissing you again. 

Your lips were soft and unmoving. You weren’t fighting back, thankfully, but you weren’t exactly participating. Kylar moved one hand from your thigh to grip your jaw, shoving her tongue into your mouth. And when your tongue brushed against hers, she felt you shudder. 

Kylar squirmed as she kissed you again and again. She had wanted this for so long, and now she had you completely alone. 

With a giggle, she pulled back to unbutton your school shirt. She tugged the front aside and reached a hand to squeeze your tit. “You’re so pretty,” Kylar mumbled as she pinched your nipple. You yelped, and it made Kylar giggle more. 

“You didn’t even wear a bra! Naughty,” Kylar grinned. “Don’t worry. You can touch mine, too.” She quickly unbuttoned her own shirt and pulled her bra off before glancing back down at where your hands were tied. “Oh. Maybe not this time. I don’t know if you’ll run away or not…next time you can touch me!” 

Kylar continued kissing you, pressing her lips against yours but also all over your face and neck. She was breathing heavily and she knew that no matter how you tried not to show it, you were feeling the same. 

“Relax, my love,” Kylar mumbled before licking your neck and biting down. You squeaked. “I love you! I know what you need!” 

She kissed your mouth some more but managed to pull herself away. The whimper you let out at the separation made Kylar’s heart flutter. But she had bigger plans than just kissing. 

Kylar stood up and took a step back before dropping to her knees. Heart racing with excitement. She flipped the front of your skirt up and the sight made her gasp. 

“No panties, either!” She grinned up at you, taking in the shy blush creeping up your face. “You really do want me. I knew it. Don’t worry,” Kylar cooed, sliding her hands up your thighs towards your wet, glistening folds. “It’ll feel good.”

She looked up at you again. You were squirming and breathing heavily. A pang of sympathy rolled through Kylar - it must be pretty uncomfortable to have your wrists and ankles tied up like that while Kylar was about to pleasure you. But she shook off that thought. She wouldn’t have had to tie you up if you hadn’t teased her so much. You deserved this, she reminded herself. It was an unfortunately necessary punishment. 

Kylar bit your inner thigh and felt the muscles clench around her head. She wanted to savor this feeling. Then, feeling so excited that she might burst, she licked your wet cunt. 

“So sweet,” she mumbled as she licked again and again, feeling you tremble. Kylar braced herself with one hand on your thigh and with the other, slid two fingers into your hole. 

“Kylar,” you whined, and hearing you sound like that was immediately the best thing Kylar had ever heard. She was determined to draw that sound out of you as many times as she could. 

She wanted to remember everything about this moment. Ideally, of course, the two of you would end up doing this over and over for the rest of your happy lives. But this moment was special. It was your first time together. So Kylar took in everything. The way you tasted. The way your thigh muscles clenched with every stroke of her tongue. The feel of your fluids on her face. The sound of your fingernails scratching against the arms of the chair. It was all beautiful and perfect to Kylar. 

She looked up at you through her lashes and the two of you made eye contact. You looked beautiful with your hair falling around your face. Your cheeks were red and there was a look in your eyes Kylar had never seen before. Desire. 

With renewed vigor, Kylar used her tongue to spell her name against your pussy, flicking your clit every few seconds and humming happily at the moans that fell out of your mouth nonstop. Maybe by writing her name on you, it would subconsciously remind you that Kylar was all you would ever need. 

“K-Kylar,” you gasped. “I’m gonna…”

That was all Kylar needed to hear. She gripped your thighs with her hands as you bucked against her face, riding out your orgasm. Kylar eagerly lapped up every last bit of fluid that came out of you. And when you were finally spent, breathing heavily, Kylar pulled away and grinned up at your, her face sticky with your cum. 

She almost went back in for more, wanting to make you cum again and again until you forgot about the rest of the world. But when she took in your heavily-lidded eyes and rising chest, she paused. Your post-orgasmic bliss was the most gorgeous thing she had ever seen. 

Kylar clambered up and plopped herself into your lap, throwing her arms around your neck. “I love you,” she smiled, putting her head back onto your shoulder. 

You were quiet at first, but then cleared your throat. “That was, um,” you began. “That was your first time doing that. Right?”

Kylar nodded quickly. “Did I do okay?” She suddenly felt anxious. She wanted to make you happy. She hadn’t considered that her lack of experience could impact that. 

Instead, you blushed again, turning away shyly. “Yeah. It was really good.”

Kylar’s joy came back and she couldn’t help but let out a squeal. 

“It’s because we’re perfect together,” Kylar smiled, pressing kisses to your cheek. “We were meant to be. We don’t need anybody else. Just each other. Isn’t that great!”

Kylar giggled more as she continued kissing you, her hands roaming your body. You didn’t respond, but you didn’t need to. Kylar knew you wouldn’t be going anywhere any time soon. 

[afictionaladventure16]

Heyyy!!! I absolutely loved your latest work “Taking it All In” I haven’t stopped crying since I read it. I was wondering if you could write something about the depression that the reader has in the story. Something along the lines where reader has been skipping school for some time due to depression and she hasn’t told Pedro about it. He finds out cuz eventually the school calls him and tells him whats going on with your absences and your bad grades. You two get into a fight about it because you refuse to tell him what’s going on as to not worry your dad. After days of not talking, cold shoulders and staying in your room/bed as much as possible Pedro finally cracks and tries to talk to you again. You’re in laying on your bed not wanting to move while Pedro is talking to you and he notices small cuts on your arm that your trying to hide, way to linear to be from your cat, and he finally puts the pieces together.

Taking It All In Pt. II (Pedro Pascal x Daughter!Reader)

Pt. 1

Word Count: 4.3 k

Warnings: Descriptions of Self-harm, mentions of depression, suicide, and some slight hinting of eating disorders.

A/N: Thank you! You're so sweet! I hope you like this part two of Taking it All in!! Also, thank you for the details in your requests! It helps to plan what to write!

It’s been months after that hike with your father. You had gotten help, but it only helped so much. You had this fear that if you told your therapist your actual thoughts, you’d end up somewhere where grippy socks were mandatory. 

It didn’t help that you found your mother, you hadn’t told your father, but you searched and searched the internet until you found her. The woman who was so afraid of loving you, afraid of having a life with your dad, she was alive and well. 

She was happy too. You would think it would make you feel happy to hear that she was happy, to see the photos of her and her family, her two kids and husband. But all it did was take you to a dark place. The images of her at her sons' soccer game, or her at her daughters' recital. It should be you in those photos with her. 

This whole time you thought your mother was most likely dead or if she were alive, she was alone in some other country probably traveling. You didn’t ever imagine that she could have started another life. You hadn’t brought it up to your therapist, mostly because they’ve been trying to help you cope with other issues in your life. It was mostly how you felt about constantly having to travel from place to place or not having your father around as much, it meant a lot of journaling. Plus, if you told your therapist, it meant telling your father and you didn’t know how he’d react or if he already knew. 

What if he already knew. You hadn’t thought of that, it was another scenario that could happen, another scenario you don’t know if you can handle. 

You heard the front door open and then close, “I’m home!” You heard your dad call out. 

You sighed to yourself, you had ditched another day of school, but luckily for you your dad left for meetings before you even got up. Meaning that it was easy to ditch. In fact, you hadn’t gone to school at all the past week. 

Pedro was met with silence, he shrugged, “probably studying,” he muttered to himself. He made his way over to the kitchen to get dinner started. He wasn’t the best cook in the world, but he knew a thing or two. 

You made your way down the hall, “There she is!” Pedro said as he heard your footsteps get closer, “Hey, I was thinking, how does spaghetti sound tonight?” You walked over to the fridge, grabbing the bottle of apple juice. 

“Sure,” you said with a shrug. You poured yourself a cup of apple juice, putting away the bottle right after. 

“Long day at school?” You gave him a nod. “Alright, well, go ahead and rest. I’ll let you know when dinner is ready.” You felt horrible for lying to him. He had thought everything was getting better and that you were beginning to feel happier, but it was all just a lie. It was a mask. 

** mentions of self-harm begin here **

You walked back to your bedroom, closing the door behind you. You felt tears begin to well up in your eyes. The lying, the feeling of abandonment, everything, it just felt like it was all tumbling down. You pulled up your sleeves, revealing the linear cuts that you had done to yourself. It started off with something small, hitting your hands against something when you were mad, but the pain felt kind of nice. 

Not kind of, it did feel nice. It took away the pain of everything in your mind for a moment and you liked it. You liked your mind being peaceful for just a moment. But those moments only lasted a few seconds and you needed something that would last longer. You had saw some girls with some cuts on their wrists at school, it wasn’t till one day you aksed one of the girls what they were while you both were in the bathroom. The girl seemed a bit embarrassed but you were genuinely curious. She explained what they were, but she didn’t explain it further. 

For weeks you couldn’t help but think about it, but the thought of hurting yourself in that way seemed scary. What if you went too deep or if you got caught? But a week ago, when your dad had to work late, you felt yourself drowning in your thoughts. Hitting yourself against your bedframe wasn’t working. That was the night you first self-harmed, you felt lucky that the weather was getting cold again so hiding your scars was easy. 

Your dad played some music while he began to boil the pasta. Your cat watched from the other side of the counter, he knew his boundaries and Pedro seemed to like the company. Pedro began to slowly dance to the rhythm of the song playing until it was cut off by the sound of ringtone, “That’s not part of the song,” he grumbled as he grabbed his phone. 

The number looked familiar, he hesitated on answering, “Could be important or a scam,” he muttered. He shrugged to himself before answering the phone, “hello?” 

“Hi! This is Linda from the JFK High School, may I speak to Y/N Pascal’s father?” 

“This is he speaking,” Pedro responded. He had no clue why your school would be calling.

“Hi, Mr. Pascal! We’ve been trying to get a hold of you for the past few days, it wasn’t until we looked through our files that we realized we had an old phone number.” 

“Ah, yes, I changed my number. Probably should’ve updated you guys on that,” is that it? He thought. 

“It’s quite alright, but the real reason why we’ve been trying to get ahold you is because we’ve noticed that Y/N hasn’t been attending her classes for the past week.” 

Pedro stopped what he was doing, placing the wooden spoon he had in his hand down on the counter, “I’m sorry, you must be mistaken.” 

“I’m afraid not. Her teachers are beginning to worry now that her grades have been slipping and she hasn’t been showing up. We were wondering if maybe the family went on vacation and someone forgot to notify the school?”

“N-No, we’re not on vacation,” Pedro looked towards the hall. 

“Well, is there any reason why she hasn’t been in school?” 

“I-I don’t know, I thought she had been going to clases this whole time.” 

“Will she be there on Monday?” 

“She’ll be there Monday,” he stated. 

“It is my obligation to let you know that if the student doesn’t show up for school for another full week that the school will revoke certain privileges for Y/N.” Pedro knew the consequences of you missing school, it could also mean jail time on his case. 

“I’ll get to the bottom of this. Thank you, Linda.” 

“Of course,” Linda said before hanging up. 

Pedro placed his phone back on the counter, he then shut off the burners on the stove. “What do I do, gatito?” he asked as he leaned against the counter, pinching the bridge of his nose. He knew what he had to do, he just didn’t know what to say or ask even. He let out a deep sigh before making his way down the hall. 

He knocked on your door, “Mija, puedo entrar?” (Can I enter?)

You opened the door, “dinner is ready already?” you asked with a confused expression on your face. 

Pedro felt his heart break, there you stood, his little girl, in front of him. He never expect you to miss school and not tell him, it only meant one thing. You were lying to him about everything. “No,” he said softly. He was trying so hard to remain calm, but there was a part of him that wanted to yell and ask why the hell you werent going to schoo. Then there was that nurturing side of him that just wanted to ask you why you weren’t going to school. Both had the same question, just a different way of approaching it. “Can I come in?” 

You shrugged, stepping aside to let him in. You watched as he sat on the edge of your bed, “I’m gonna ask you something and I want you to be one hundred percent truthful with me, okay?” He asked

You chuckled slightly, expecting some dumb question, “okay.” 

“Mija, no estoy bromeando horita, necesito que me escuches.” (I’m not joking right now, I need you to listen). 

Oh fuck, he knows, you thought. You gave him a nod, “did you miss school this past week?” You nod again. Pedro took in a deep breath, “Why?” 

You shrugged, “papi, it’s no big deal.” 

“No big deal!?” He yelled as he stood up. “Mija, do you know I can go to jail because you haven’t gone to school!? Do you have any idea how stupid that is? Que te estabas pensando, huh!?” (What were you thinking?)

You felt tears well up in your eyes, “I’m sorry! I just didn’t feel like going!” 

“If you don’t feel like going then you tell me! How come you didn’t tell me?” You remained silent, Pedro let out a deep sigh, trying to calm down again. “What’s going on, Y/N??” 

“Nothing,” you whispered. 

“No me dices que nada esta pasando, por que tu no te comportas como asi. Tu eres mi hija, y yo queiro saber que esta pasando.” (Don’t tell me that nothing is happening because you don’t behave like this, You’re my daughter and I want to know what is going on.) 

“Nada esta pasando!” You yelled, “Deja me en paz!” You walked out of your room. (Nothing is happening, leave me alone) 

“Dejarte en paz?!” He followed you out. “What is going on with you?!” 

“Would you just leave it alone? I didn’t go to school this week and I’m sorry, okay? I’ll go to school on monday, just leave it alone!” 

“I’m not just gonna brush this off, this is serious, Y/N! Missing school for a week? You can’t just do that! So, what is going on?” 

“Ugh! I don’t have to tell you every fucking thing okay?!” You yelled. You believe that this was probably the first time you ever yelled at your dad. The first time you had ever gotten in such a big argument. Didn’t mean that you two didn’t argue, you argued but it never led to a screaming match. Not like this. 

Pedro stood there in disbelief, “Y/N M/N Pascal, I am your father and I demand to know what the hell is going on with you.” 

You couldn’t tell him, you couldn’t just blurt out that you found your mother; but not only did you find her, you also found her new family. You couldn’t tell him that you felt replaceable, that even he was replaceable, at least to your mother. You just couldn’t. “Nothing is going on,” you said. 

“You’re grounded,” he said in defeat. 

“Fine,” you said as you began to make your way back to your room. 

“For two months,” he added. “I’ll need your phone and your game consoles.” 

You stopped in the middle of the hall. You were doing this for him, you wanted to keep his happiness even at the cost of your own, “Fine.” You walked into your room, slamming the door behind you. 

“Slam the door and I’m taking your T.V.” 

You groaned in annoyance, “Fuck you,” you spat. You had instantly regretted saying it. Pedro stood there for a second, in shock mostly. He felt the tears begin to well up in his eyes, he wasn’t going to take your T.V. as a matter of fact, he didn’t want to take any of it away. He partially said it in hopes that you’d crack and tell him what was going on. 

He heard the cat meow at his feet, he looked down, “I think I’m loosing her, gatito,” he whispered before turning around and making his way down the hall and back to the kitchen. 

~~ 

Days went by, you didn’t speak to your dad all weekend. Spending most of your time in your bedroom, your mind was all over the place and you had self harmed some more. It felt like the more you did, the more you craved it or the more your mind raced, the more you felt the need to have that feeling. 

You didn’t eat much either, for some reason you just couldn’t think about eating. Your stomach didn’t feel hungry either so you snacked on small things. When you came home from school on Monday, your dad was in the kitchen prepping for dinner. You walked past him, not saying a word. The tension was thick, someone could cut a knife through it. 

Pedro didn’t say anything to you when you walked past him to grab something to drink, even though he wanted to say a million things. He had so much to talk to you about, so many exciting things, but he was stubborn and you were too. 

When you didn’t come out for dinner, he left a plate at the foot of your door, knocking to let you know, just like he did for past two days and just like you did, you’d wait a few minutes before grabbing your plate. You would leave it on your desk, hoping that maybe you’d feel some sensation of hunger. Yet, just like the other full plates of food beside it, you’d never touch it. 

“Just give her some time,” Javiera said into the phone. Pedro had called her Monday afternoon while he was out for a drive. 

“How much time?” he asked, his voice strained from crying. He had called her up crying about twenty minutes ago, and like the big sister she was, she tried her best to console him through the phone. 

“A few more days, she’ll crack soon enough,” she said hopeful. “You’re a good dad, Pedro.” 

“I sure as hell don’t feel like it right now.” 

“I know,” she began, “all parents feel that way one day or another.” 

“I just… I wish I knew what happened you know? Why did she all of a sudden just become this totally different person?” 

“Teenagers,” she expressed. “Don’t you remember how you were?” 

“Don’t get me started,” he chuckled. 

“You were the worst!” Pedro knew she was right. He had given his parents a hard time when he was a teenager. “It’ll get better, I promise.” 

Tuesday comes and goes and so does Wednesday. By Wednesday night you ate some of your dinner, but you still couldn’t stomach to eat all of it. You only ate because of how dizzy you felt all day. Thursday comes and goes, you caved into your cravings more as each day passed, your arm was full of scars, it felt raw to the touch. 

You cried yourself to sleep most nights. Friday night Pedro went to knock on your door, only to hear you crying. He knocked softly, but was only met with “Go away.” He felt so defeated, he wanted this silent treatment to be over with. He wanted his baby girl back and he wanted to help you with whatever you were going through. He knocked again, “Go away!” He shook his head, opening the door, you were laying in bed, your arms covering your face. 

“Mija,” he said softly. 

“Please, just go away!” you yelled. 

“I’m sorry, but I can’t do it anymore,” he began to say, he noticed the uneaten food on your desk. His heart sunk, looking back over at you, taking in how you looked. He walked over to the desk, some of the food began to develop mold. He let out a shaky breath, walking over to the bed, “Baby girl,” he said. Pedro noticed that you weren’t wearing your usual long sleeve, for a while he was beginning to worry that you had begun to harm yourself because you were always wearing long sleeves. 

It relieved him to see you in a short sleeve for once, he inched closer, you still hard your arms covering your face. You were too focused on what was on your mind to realize that your father was near you and that you weren’t wearing a long sleeve. Even if you had realized it, it would be too late. 

Pedro spotted something red near your wrists, but your arms were in a position where he couldn’t see your whole wrists. Yet, the small amount he did see was enough to send him in a panic. Pedro was soft with his touch, he grabbed your hand gently, pulling it towards him so he could see your wrists. 

You quickly pulled away your arm, holding it close to your chest as you sat up in the bed, “get out,” you said through clenched teeth. 

“How long have you been doing that?” Your dad asks, tears welling up in his eyes. 

“Get out!” you yelled. 

“How long!?” tears fell from his eyes, he stood up from the bed. “How long, Y/N?” he asked again. 

“Dad, I don’t want you to cry,” You said as you looked at the ground, “Just please get out.” 

“No! I’m not gonna-” he inhaled, “you’re not shutting me out.” 

“Please,” you begged as you looked up at him with tears in your eyes. You got up from the bed, walking over to the door and opening it. “Get out,” you begged. 

He shook his head, “Why?” he cried, “Why would you do that to yourself?” You opened your mouth to speak, but he cut you off, “And don’t say it’s the cat, because that’s too many for the cat. It’s too clean. I thought you were getting better.” 

You looked at your dad, you could see the pain you were trying avoid. The heartache you hated to see, “I’m not better,” you confessed. “I’ve never gotten better.” 

“What?” He asked in disbelief. 

“I didn’t get better, okay?” You said loudly, holding back the sob that was scratching at the walls of your throat, begging to be let out. “Is that what you want to hear?” 

“You think I want to hear that my baby girl never got better?” You remained silent. He walked over to you, taking your had to look at the marks again. He sniffled, “My beautiful baby girl,” he sobbed, “why would you do this?” 

You couldn’t hold it back anymore. You let out a deep shaky breath, letting the sob take over you. “I couldn’t handle it anymore, it’s all too much, okay? It’s so loud in here,” you gestured towards your head. 

Pedro couldn’t handle seeing you cry, he pulled you in, feeling you tightly wrap your arms around his body. “Why?” he kept asking. 

“I was trying to protect you,” your dad let go of the embrace. 

He placed his hands on your face, “Mija, I should be the one protecting you, Okay? Whatever it is that you’ve been holding in, I can handle it. You never have to worry about me.” 

You wanted to spill everything, it was like the dam inside was breaking and this was just the little drop of water to break it. “I found her,” you confessed. 

He looked at you with a confused expression, “who?” 

“My mom,” you inhaled, “I found her,” you couldn’t help but chuckle. Pedro was in disbelief, she was alive, for the longest he just kind of accepted that she passed away. 

“That’s what you were trying to protect me from?” He questioned. 

You shook her head, “That’s not the best part,” you began. “You know what the best part is?” You began to walk back over to your bed. You let out a small sob, “The best part is that I also found out that we’re replaceable.” Pedro watched as you sat on your bed, it pained him to see you in such dismay. It also pained him to hear the news that your mother was alive, she was alive and had another family. “The woman we both thought was trying to protect us from herself, is out there with a family of her own-” 

“Cariño,” your dad tried to interrupt. 

“I have a brother and sister that I don’t even know! And she’s in these pictures laughing with them, she’s at birthday parties and soccer games,” you took in a shaky breathe. 

“Y/N,” He took a couple steps towards you. 

“That should be me, dad,” There was the drop of water to break the dam. “It should be us,” you sobbed. Pedro quickly pulled you into an embrace, letting you cry into his shoulder, “It should be us,” you sobbed. 

“I know, Mija,” he whispered as tears fell from his eyes, “I know.” He let you cry it out for a few minutes, mostly because at that moment he didn’t know what to say exactly. How he should console you after finding out something no one should ever experience. His mind wandered, how could someone create another family when they left one behind? He thought if it were him, he wouldn’t be able to do it. He knew it would always be in the back of his mind that he had abandoned another family. 

Did it wander in the back of her head? Or did she just not care? 

Pedro felt so angry just thinking about it. He wanted to track her down and just yell into the void. She was the love of his life or so he thought. He had considered her the love of his life, hopeful that one day she’d realize what she left behind and come back. She wasn’t coming back, though and now he knew that. Now he had to console you and find a way to show her what she missed out on. 

Pedro let go of the embrace, taking your face in his hands once again. His thumb gently wiped away the tears that were streaming down your face, he placed a soft kiss on your forehead before looking at you again. “We don’t need her,” he started to say. 

“But-” 

“I know, Mijita. It hurts,” you nod, “She has no idea what she’s missing out on, Mijita. Her kids have no idea what a horrible person she truly is as fucked up as that sounds, it’s true.” He gave you a smile through the tears, “The only thing that matters is that she gave me you, my beautiful baby girl. That’s all I know of her, she gave me you and she was nothing else.” 

“You don’t regret being with her?” 

Pedro could never regret it, “No, because then I wouldn’t have you. I can’t imagine my life without my little girl. I’m sorry you don’t have a mom in your life, but not every girl has multiple mom figures in their lives.” It was true, you had your tia and some of your dads close friends. Your dad let go of your face, he took a hold of your wrist. “But this,” he started to say, tears welled up in his eyes again, “Oh, baby girl,” he sighed. 

“I’m sorry,” you cried. 

“No, no, no,” he pulled you in for a quick embrace, before letting go, “we’re going to work on this together okay?” You nod, “I can help, we’ll make more appointments with your therapists, we’ll find healthy alternatives, and we’ll overcome this.” He choked back a sob, “but I never want to see you harming yourself again, please promise me that?” You remained silent. 

You weren’t sure if you could promise it, mostly because you were addicted to the way it made you feel. “Prometeme, Y/N.” (Promise me)

“I-I’ll try,” you finally said. Pedro didn’t want to push it, if trying was what he could get, then it was enough for him. He could work with trying. Trying meant putting the effort and it meant to him that you still wanted to live. 

“Trying is all I need,” he said. “I can’t lose you. Know that you have people that love you.” 

You looked up at your dad in realization, you never realized how much it could impact your dad. How self harm was always correlated with darker actions. Darker actions that your father had a past with. This time, you pulled him into an embrace, “you won’t lose me,” you said.  “I can promise you that.” 

He let out a relieved sigh, “we’ll have to talk about the food on your desk too.” 

“I’m sorry,” you began. “I just-” 

“No, I know.” You didn’t have to say more, he knew what it was like. To be too much in your mind to even eat. He understood, “let’s get you something to eat, hmm?” 

You nod, watching as he got up from the bed, “I love you, papi.” 

“I love you too, Mija,” he gave you a small smile. You got up from the bed, following him into the kitchen. He ordered you your favorite take out, once the food had arrived you both took the food to the living room. 

Pedro glanced over at your wrist from time to time, his heart sank every time, but he was going to get you better help. Over time, the cuts will heal and they’ll just be white little memories of the battles you’ve dealt with, but Pedro knew he never wanted you to feel like you’ve hit rock bottom. From here on out, he was going to try his hardest to make sure you were your healthiest, physically and mentally.

He placed a small kiss on your temple, “love you,” he said softly. 

You gave him a smile, “Love you too, dad,” you said, focusing your attention back on the television. You both knew the journey from here on out wasn’t going to be easy, it wasn’t said aloud, but it was like a silent acknowledgment. But eventually, it’ll be okay because pain was just temporary.

Pedro Pascal Taglist: @Sophieelizabeth01  @tracysnookok  @cilliansangel @change-the-world-someday  @graciegoeskrazy @twkobii

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[fictionallystable]

Rating: Mature

Fandom: Call of Duty (Video Games)

Relationship: Phillip Graves (Call of Duty)/Reader

Characters: Reader, Phillip Graves (Call of Duty), Original Male Character(s)

Additional Tags: Author Has Played Call of Duty, Childhood Friends, Miscommunication, Mutual Pining, Civilian!Reader, Pre-Canon, Jealousy, Angst, Kissing, Mild Smut, Time Skips, Brother's Best Friend, Toxic Family Dynamics, Eventual Smut, Drama, Misunderstandings, Getting Together, Minor Age Gap

Words: 9,080| Chapters: 4/5

Authors: @orphancains & @collinnmckinley

Chapter 4: The Engagement Party

Chapter Summary: You're invited to Matty's engagement party and run into a familiar face—only for everything to seemingly fall apart.

A/N: agian we are extremely apologetic for the late update. life got hectic for both of us and hit us like a bus. and we were too exahsted from everything to even think about writing. but here we are!!! with a longer chapter to make it up to yall!! we really hope you enjoy this one c: only one chapter left to go ;) (likes and reblogs are appreciated <3)

the fic can also be found on AO3

tags will be updated!!

You felt nauseous at the thought of returning home for Matty’s engagement party. You’d been living out of town, happy with your job as an architect even if it meant you sometimes went months without seeing family. But you preferred it that way, with less judgment from your parents for choosing to postpone your own engagement yet again. 

With your boyfriend Richard’s arm around your waist, you braced yourself for the booming cheers from your mother and father when they saw you. Immediately, they enveloped you in hugs and shook you with delight. 

“[Y/N], oh, it’s so good to see you! We’ve missed you so much.” 

“The drive must’ve been tiring, huh? How’s work been, Richard?” 

“[Y/N], your figure looks great! And that skirt is gorgeous!” 

Ah, yes. The skirt Richard picked out for me.

Your mother’s wrinkled, smiling eyes rubbed your back as you made your way to the living room for a drink, while Richard stayed in the hall with your father, enraptured in more dull small talk. The stiff smile you had kept carved on your face all this time suddenly melted into a real one when you saw Bear, your dog, laying on the ground.

You knelt down immediately to pet him, forgetting the drink your mom was getting you. You rubbed your hands through his long, brown fur as he wagged his tail back and forth. He panted excitedly, leaning up trying to lick your cheek. You laughed. “I’m glad you’re looking good, Bear,” you said to the dog. He had been staying comfortably with your mother for the past 6 months, enjoying her leftovers but far away from you. Every night, you wished you could cuddle up with the dog. But Richard insisted that no dogs be allowed in your apartment.

“ I can’t handle all the hair, especially with it sticking to my suits. And I doubt you’ll have the time to clean up after a German Shepherd’s furballs with your workload ,” you remembered he sourly sneered while he unpacked your boxes all those months ago. 

“And Matty?” you asked your mom when she handed you a cup of soda and ice in a red plastic solo, while Bear rolled over on his back elatedly.

“He’s outside entertaining the guests with Elaine.” Your mom grinned. “Her parents seem to be very happy with our arrangement.”

You tried to smile, but a grimace cracked through instead. Ever since you graduated high school, your mother and father had insisted you get married quickly. Matty seemed to have no issue finding the right girl to propose to. You, on the other hand, well… you couldn’t see yourself with Richard. He was protective, he remembered your anniversaries, and he always made the time to take you on dates, to remember your favorite flowers, and always paraded you with pride at his own work parties. But the thought of saying “I do” to the man made your chest bubble with anxiety. And maybe even dread. Sometimes he was too  protective, interrupted you too much, and sometimes took his sarcastic jokes too far to the point of cruelty. You were sensitive, ever since your adolescence. But… you could get used to it, right? 

“Oh, that’s great news,” you muttered in reply to your mother.

Your mother leered at you from the corner of her eye. A mischievous but scrutinizing twinkle in her eyes. “Yes, it’s just a matter of time before you and Richard have your very own—”

“I should go say hi to Matty, yes?” You got up quickly and brushed the wrinkles from your skirt. “And of course, to my future sister-in-law…” you sputtered out as you scurried past your mother.

When you stepped out onto the back garden, you were hit once again with the warm, thick heat of the Texas night. You saw your brother from behind, with his arm around Elaine, whose long, pin-straight hung like a curtain from behind her, and a cold beer in his hand. You saw they were laughing while they chatted to an older man and woman you didn’t recognize, crinkled skin and silvery but pin-straight thin hair that Elaine had. From what you could guess, they must’ve been Elaine’s parents.  

It was hard to hide your joy at seeing your brother. You sauntered up to your brother, wanting to catch up with him. Last time you’d seen him, he’d been arguing with your dad about the very idea of proposing to Elaine. He wanted to wait another couple of months, but your father insisted Elaine would start to get impatient and would find another husband, another arrangement. Your brother had stormed off that day, driven away in his car, uttering nothing more than a “Not now!” at you when you had asked if he was okay.

“Matty!” you called out to your brother from where you stood. Your smile couldn’t get any wider. Yes you spoke with your brother every week when work let you, but it's been a long while since you last saw your brother in person. 

So when he heard your voice calling his name, he turned to see you standing there, at your parents backyard porch, waving to him excitedly, he couldn’t help but let out an airy laugh and immediately started to make his way to you. You did the same and both met in the middle as you scooped you in a hug lifting your feet off the ground. Oh how he missed his baby sister. Although all grown up.

Seeing how excitedly Matty basically ran towards you, it made Elaine chuckle and shake her head. She knew how strong the sibling bond you and your brother shared, and she found it extremely endearing and adorable in a way she can never experience, as she was the only child.

As Matty let you down on the ground again, Elaine made her way to greet you. When you saw her you couldn’t help but hug her too. You liked Elaine, she was like a sister you never had, and you couldn’t be happier for both of them. 

“It’s so good to see you [Y/N]! We missed you so much” Elaine told you, her smile was bright and contagious. You couldn’t help but to mirror her excitement and feeling.

“It’s good to see you both too! I’m so sorry I couldn’t get earlier work got in the way, and we packed at the last minute-” you expressed how regretful you were about how late you arrived. You truly meant to arrive earlier, to help your brother and his wife-to-be with the arrangement of the party, but the universe had other plans for you. 

Before you went on a tangent, Matty cut you off with his usual reassuring demeanor.

“Nonsense! You’re here and that's what matters.” Elaine nodded, as Matty’s hand came around her shoulder. They truly looked like a couple made for each other. 

“Oh! Before you go or do anything, I gotta show you who’s here!” Matty said, his excitement meant trouble. For some reason you were worried.

“Oh there he is! Just the man I was looking for hah!” Matty was looking over your shoulder when he spoke. 

As you turned around like any normal person would do to see who your brother was talking about, the air was knocked out of you immediately as your eyes landed on him.

“Phil…” you sputtered out, quiet enough for it to be a whisper.

Phillip Graves stood a few feet away from you, far enough to reach in a couple of steps. And that's what he did when your brother called him over. The Phillip Graves was standing in front of you now, except now he was older. His hair was still the light brown, almost blonde hair that had as a teen. His tan skin now was littered with a few scars, on accenting his cheek bone. You remembered he was tall, always athletic, as a kid from playing varsity football and soccer. But now, he had filled out muscles under his burgundy t-shirt and light-wash jeans. And he still towered over you just enough that you had to peer up to meet his blue eyes. 

With a surprised, almost confused smile, he repeated your name back to you. 

“Phillip... Phil…” you breathed out, still in disbelief. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”

“Of course he’s gonna be here, silly! He’s my best friend, I couldn’t have a wedding without him being my best man can I?” you’re brother jokes. Before you could say anything to him, you heard a distant voice calling his name. He answers “coming!”, but not before bidding you both to have a good time and catch up.

He knows how much Phil meant to you, and he knows for sure for the past fifteen years how much you tried to forget him.

You watched as your brother and his fiancee in his arms went to tend to the other guests, before turning to Phillip, who’s smile grew into one of his beaming ones that you’d grown familiar with as a teen. “Hopefully seeing me ain’t a bad surprise.” He winks at you teasingly before smiling softly. He gestured to the plastic, white porch table nearby. “D’ya wanna sit?”

Tentatively, you took a seat across from him at the table. He looked around, almost looking bored, as he took a drink of his own beer bottle. But you knew Phil. He wasn’t disinterested. You could tell from the way he was bouncing his left leg in slight nervousness. 

“So, how have you been [Y/N]? I heard you became a big shot architect in Seattle! Not gonna lie, I thought that you’d become a famous artist with her own exhibit all across the country.” Phillip genuinely sounded happy and surprised, leaning back in his chair, hands intertwining on his torso. A habit he picked up during his time away from home in the Marine Corps.

You smiled at him. He recognized that as the one your mother trained you to show new people. It only got sweeter—and prettier—as you grew older, he thought. It suited you even as you were no longer a little girl and now a beautiful, grown woman. Graves’ heart strings tugged, and for a split second, and only for that tiny moment, he was taken off guard. 

“Yeah.” You paused but only for a second. “Things turned out differently. But I can't complain.” That sweet smile still plastered on your face. Phil couldn’t believe it, how much you’ve changed, how much you’ve grown. How beautiful you’ve become-

“Things… didn’t end well the last time we saw each other.” He was lost in thought again but your voice brought him back. 

“Or rather didn’t see.” You murmured.

He knitted his brows in confusion. “I’m not following.” 

Annoyance began to stir inside you. You huffed and looked away.

He nearly stammered his words. “From what I last remember; we had a blast at your birthday party, Matty gave you a puppy, the one that he’d been planning months to get for you. And I—”

“And you left.” Your eyes, returning to him and now darker with hurt, pierced straight into his eyes, and your silky voice cut him like a sharp knife. “Practically the next day.” “Without saying a single word to me about your enlistment that day.” A sad, but bitter, smile adorned your face, eyes cast downward. As the memories of that day continued to unfurl for you, a dormant resentment continued to bubble in the depths of your viscera. 

“You didn’t even bother to say goodbye to Matty properly let alone me.” Your voice was softer now,  but he could still see the hurt behind your eyes. “Much less to my parents who—”

“Listen, [Y/N], I didn’t—” He clenched his jaw and dragged his chair closer, hoping to keep his voice low. He felt embarrassed to be having this conversation with you in the first place in your parents’ backyard. And he especially didn’t want Matty to know you were talking about this with him. Still, he felt he owed you an explanation. “I didn’t want to scare you….” he stops and looks at you, in his eyes an emotion you have never seen before swims, you can't decipher it, but it somehow looks familiar. “Or hurt you for that matter.” 

He shook his head, crossing his arms across his chest. He scoffed, just barely audible to you. “But be realistic for a moment. What did you expect me to say to you? ‘Hey, kiddo, I’m off to join the Marine Corps. Might die or get a limb or two blown off. Make sure you do your homework and don’t stay up too late playing video games with Matty! Bye!” 

Phil couldn’t help being defensive of his actions that summer, a bit too defensive even to his liking. He sighs and continues with a bit of a calmer voice. Phil knew that his answer wasn’t half-assed, but he still knew they could be biting. Although he didn’t want to reopen old wounds, he also didn’t want to lie to you. Especially not now that you were no longer a child, and not just Matty’s kid sister. “I did what I thought was right, for you… and me. And I wouldn’t change it if I had to do it again. That’s the truth.” 

You blinked. You couldn’t help but hear something alien in his voice, a tone so unfamiliar in your memories of him as kids. Was it sorrow? Remorse? Pain? You couldn’t figure it out. But you know it was something not to be pushed any further. As a kid you never understood why he did what he did, but as you grew older, somehow you knew that as a child everyone’s decisions were outside your range of understanding. You had accepted what happened. Or at least you thought you did. But today that young girl returned, took back control your body and mind, and you found yourself spluttering these words to Phil. 

Sitting with his own answers, you sat in silence. You watched as he leaned back and eyed you carefully. His eyes were still the same baby blue ones that always gazed at you with brotherly affection all those years, the ones that sparkled when the Texan summer sun’s rays cast on them. But now you felt a hardness radiating from behind them, one that would make anyone else cower and feel smaller. Years in military combat had definitely changed him and his gaze. Indeed, you did feel like he was studying every inch of your face and body, scanning you as if trying to profile you, maybe like he did with the captured combatants in whatever war in which he fought. You tried your hardest to return the intensity of his stare, but it was hard to compete with the icy look in his eyes.

But behind his colder eyes was a burning curiosity that he was successful in concealing from you. It was a curiosity he didn’t expect to experience tonight, because he never expected to see you, Matty’s beloved little sister, again. In all his memories, some more faded and fuzzier than others, you remained a little girl whose clothes were stained with paint and fingers sometimes still smudged from soft pastels or even charcoal from your art. In his mind, you still had baby cheeks and wore Matty’s old hand-me-down clothes and hoodies. But before him, he never expected Matty’s little sister, now a woman, to be sitting before him. He almost wanted to curse himself for immediately noticing when you walked to the table how your curves fit the skirt you wore. And when you sat across from him, he caught himself glancing more than once at your chest when your arms folded just beneath it. 

He clenched his jaw. God, if Matty even caught the places his eyes were traveling when he saw you, he was sure he was going to get his ass kicked and his face pounded in by Matty’s notorious fist. Grown up or not, you were still his sister. And this was also still Matty’s engagement party, and he couldn’t ruin it. And you were clearly still torn up about his sudden, unannounced enlistment all those years ago. This was not the place or time to be thinking of… other things.

What disrupted his curious gaze from roaming over you was a sole tear that began to trickle down the corner of your eye. Just one, and one that you quickly wiped away with your hand before it could ruin much of your makeup. But it was enough to know that, once again, Phil had made you upset. He internally wanted to bang a fist against the table. He was hoping you would lash out at him, he would let you burn off some of the steam that you couldn’t when you were both kids, he knew how much you controlled your rage, and he wished you would finally let it out even if it was on him. Let you both make fools of yourselves that night, so he could feel less remorse. But instead, the silence from you that he was me with was damning him more than he could expect.

When you refused to say anything, Phil anxiously whirled the cold glass bottle in his hands. “But, I was also an idiot,” Phil spat out suddenly. 

Your furrowed brows softened, noticing how Phil’s eyes melted into what you couldn’t intercept at first. But you soon realized it was a miserable mixture of hurt and regret. “I just wanted to get away from my folks, you know. Even though they were hardly ever home, I still felt like they controlled every aspect of my life. So…” He breathed out. “So, I’m sorry.”

“I get that,” was all you said as you mindlessly twirled the bracelet around your wrist. As you did so, his eyes glanced down at your hand on the table, the same ones that were always covered in stubborn faded blue and yellow hues of paint. He swallowed when he noticed that, unlike Matty whom he’d spoken to earlier, you had no ring on your left hand. Before you could notice, Phil quickly glanced back up at your face, and was relieved to see that your harsh scowl from before had melted away. “I just wish you could’ve told me that then. But I… I get that I was too young. We were both pretty stubborn when it came to talking about anything serious, but we cared—”

Before you could finish, you heard a booming voice call out your name. You turned and saw Richard beckoning you to where he stood, while your parents stood to the side and grinned giddily together. Suddenly the whole party had grown strangely quiet. Beside the ice cooler, you noticed a bluetooth speaker playing a familiar soft rock song. One that you distinctly remember as the one Richard played in the car after your first date together at the theme park, and the same one you two danced to in his old apartment when you both were tipsy one night.

You got up from your seat. Next to you Phil also suddenly wondered why so many eyes were on you and this unfamiliar man. You started walking toward him and your parents, wondering what in the world was happening, and why your boyfriend was standing in the middle of the backyard like he was about to give a speech. Oh no, I've seen this scenario happening in public one too many times. This does not look good…. Your internal monologue was put in a pause when you looked around to find your brother, and when your eyes landed on his and his fiance, you knew with one look they did not seem pleased of what was going on.

“[Y/N],” he started. “We’ve only known each other for a few months…”

“I can’t fucking believe this,” Matty muttered from a few feet away from where Phil sat. 

Phil blinked a couple of times. His gut was telling him he knew exactly what was going on, but he himself couldn’t believe it. Not after he just reunited with Y/N a few minutes earlier.

Elaine tried to calm Matty down silently, but Matty was furious. “I specifically told them not to pull this shit, not on this occasion. Jesus fucking Christ.” Elaine didn’t need to hear him say it, but she knew who he was referring to when he said ‘they’.

Richard continued. “But you’ve made me a better man, a man with bigger, better ambitions, a man who can see himself becoming a family man. Beyond just a businessman, a partner, a rock to lean on, someone who could build a home with you and raise a family together.”

When he got down on one knee, you felt your heart stop and all the muscles in your body seize. You tightened your jaw, dormant rage igniting all over again. You didn’t know if you wanted to run away and flee the scene or smash Richard’s head with the beer bottle from a nearby table, but you felt as though your shoes were glued to the dry grass. “Y/N,” he said as he took a ring out of his jacket pocket. 

You looked up frantically and saw your mother on the verge of happy tears and your father with a proud grin but his hands tucked in his suit jacket’s pockets, much like when he is negotiating a business deal at work. You knew immediately that this was not simply Richard’s doing. No, you had told Richard as recently as last night at bedtime that you would rather wait at least when you hit 30 before even considering marriage. This was your parents handing you off to Richard, hoping and desperately trying to have their wealth merge with Richard’s own family wealth. Just like you feared in every conversation you had with your mom and dad, you feared you represented nothing more than a simple pawn in another one of your dad’s business deals. 

You glanced back down at Richard, the sour sneer on your face growing harder and harder for you to conceal. You could feel your hands trembling now by your side, and the cup of soda in your hand threatening to get crushed.  

“Will you do me the honor of letting me call you my wife?”

You heard murmurs and all around you from the backyard. The night’s spotlight was now on you, no longer on Matty and Elaine, and that made you grind your teeth even more. You didn’t want extra attention. It was bad enough that suddenly your childhood crush crashed the party and made you relive your teenage hormones and heartbreak. Richard and your parents both knew how uncomfortable you felt coming back home, and suddenly they decided to make you have to answer a marriage proposal in front of all your relatives, friends, and neighbors. 

You glared down at Richard, who was oblivious to the storm raging in your mind. “You’re out of your fucking mind,” you spat out, with a low and harsh voice, but still loud enough for everyone to hear. You whipped your head up furiously to glare directly at your mom and dad. “And you two! You two are unbelievable. You should be ashamed of yourselves!” Your throat ached from how harshly you growled at them.

Without another word, not even a “no” to dignify Richard’s proposal, you threw your cup of soda at Richard’s face. The half-melted ice-cubes and cold Sprite made him flinch and get back up to his feet quickly. A chorus of gasps erupted from behind and around you. 

“You spoiled brat!” your mother shrieked. The disdain and disappointment on her face was one so familiar, but one that still brought your heart racing anxiously and your lips to quiver. Your father stood frozen in shock beside her. He himself didn’t expect you to react in such a way. He thought tonight would be another business success for him. “Do you know how much we had sacrificed for you? And you decide to act like a child? When will you grow up?l!” 

“THIS IS INSANE!” 

Your eyes snapped to the source of outburst and landed on Matty standing near where Phil and you had been sitting. Phil remained at his seat watching all of this unfold with amusement, as Matty was walking towards where your parents had been standing, with determination of giving an earful to them most likely, but before he could start what he had to say your voice decided to come out on its own accord.

“Oh mother… How can you still be so stubborn about this? How could you pull this stunt at Matty’s engagement party, your own son's engagement party? Do you have no shame? Either of you?” Your voice determined and harsh. Even your mother was taken aback by your bold retort. Her speechlessness only allowed you to continue your tirade. “I told you at least a hundred times that I don’t have any plans to get married anytime soon. But you didn’t listen! That doesn’t surprise me; you hardly ever listen to me. But at least have some respect for your own goddamn son! Who has been nothing but an obedient child to you! Both of you! And this is how you treat him?! The least that you could have done was ask him and Elaine if this was okay with them!” 

Your mother was stunned, the blood having drained from her face and her hand clutching her handbag tightly as she gawked at you. You’ve never been this brave with your words. You never talked back to either of your parents in all your youth. And if your father wasn’t just as speechless, he would’ve given you an earful, and even threatened you to remove you from inheritance. But you didn’t care, your patience ran thinner and thinner each year and this new stunt made all that remained evaporate in a matter of seconds.

You knew you couldn’t come back from this. The realization that there was a chance you’ll probably be shunned and even maybe disowned after this. You had run out of words, so you simply ran from the scene. Your spilled red cup of coke laid on the grass, something the ants in the yard would later indulge in. You bolted into your family’s house, your childhood home, which was mainly empty with everyone mingling in the evening out in the yard. You went into your room on instinct, but noticed your mom and dad had converted it into an office space for their work. Your jaw dropped as you realized they never kept your room the same way they had adoringly preserved Matty’s. You tightened your grip around the door knob. You wanted nothing more than to trash the room, break the desk that sat where your bed once did, and stomp on bookshelves that once held your comics and artbooks but now held folders of boring white paperwork. 

But instead you fled to your brother’s room across the hall. You knelt down beside his bed, kicked off your shoes, and buried your face in a pillow. You let out a muffled scream. After a few seconds, your scream morphed into pathetic sobs. You knew you were surely staining Matty’s old pillows with your makeup, but you didn’t care at that moment. At that moment, it felt as though you time-traveled back fifteen years in your old home, crying your eyes out into your beloved brother’s pillow.

‿︵‿︵‿୨ ୧‿︵‿︵‿

Phil watched as Matty slouched on the plastic lounging chair outside. Almost everyone had left. Your mother and father stood near the backyard fence, arguing desperately about what to do next after you had ruined their evening. Richard stood next to them but remained mostly silent and merely listened to them. Elaine, Matty’s fiancée, trudged into the house in search of you. Meanwhile, Phil took a seat across from Matty, who ran his hands through his beard and squeezed his eyes shut momentarily out of frustration.

“Cannot believe they would fucking do that on tonight of all nights,” Matty groaned out.

Phil let out a low whistle. “Yeah definitely didn’t expect to see [Y/N] throw a cup of soda at some random guy.” It would almost be laughable if it weren’t for the fact that he had seen tears once again streaming down your face when you darted inside. “So, that was actually [Y/N]’s boyfriend or—”

“Unfortunately,” Matty spat out. “I can’t stand the guy. But our parents love Richard even though he’s a huge asshole to her half the time.”

“Huh…”

Phil tried to recall the man. He was tall and athletic. He seemed like the type to weight lift, worry about trends in luxury suits, and track his meals’ calories to keep up with his appearance and health everyday. His dark hair was slicked back with some gel, and his jaw was sharp and pronounced. His sharp, aquiline facial features reminded Phil of some of the college guys who would apply for internships to work for his dad’s firm during summers back when he was a kid. But something about him made Phil’s skin crawl. He wasn’t sure if it was the fact that his entire personality seemed like a masquerade of wealth and opulence, or the fact that he was dating you , had the gall to propose to you , while also being an asshole to you, according to Matty at least.

“I can’t say I blame her for throwing the soda at him,” Phil snickered quietly.

Matty almost cracked a smile at this. Suddenly, he remembered why he called Phil his best friend for so many years of his life. “Trust me, if I could’ve thrown one too, I would’ve.”

Your father suddenly bellowed your name. “Come out! We need to have a talk!”

Phil and Matty quickly glanced at each other, worry coating both of their faces. They expected Elaine and you to come out together, Elaine probably holding a box of tissues and your eyes still swollen from crying. But instead, no one came out of the backyard door. They waited several seconds, until your father stormed toward the door to head inside himself. Richard trailed behind him, not nearly as full of energy. It seemed the would-be fiancé was still feeling dejected, even if the soda from early had already dried.

“Unbelievable,” your father growled, the door of the house slamming open violently with a bang.

Phil and Matty both got up quickly, following the man. They found you and Elaine sitting in the kitchen, you nursing a cup of warm tea and Elaine sitting next to you still attempting to console you. Your father rushed toward you, grabbing you by your shoulders, forcing your gaze away from your cup of tea and to his own red-beet face. The force of his grasp made your elbow knock into the mug, tumbling it to the ground with a sharp crash. 

Elaine gasped sharply before stepping back in shock. Meanwhile, Bear emerged from the living room, his bushy tail stiff in the air in alert and his pointed ears slicked back against his head. He growled and barked furiously at the sight of your father grabbing you. Agape, you stared back at your father in horror, feeling all the muscles in your body suddenly become paralyzed in fear.

“How can you throw away your future just because of your own stubborn self-righteousness?! Didn’t we raise you better than to act so selfishly?!” your father yelled into your face.

Matty quickly grabbed your father’s arm, grabbing him by his gray blazer’s stiff fabric, and pulled him off of you. “Your dumb plan for the night was botched from the start, dad,” he sneered out. “She clearly doesn’t want to marry Richard and this was supposed to be our engagement party to begin with!” he looked at Elaine for a second saying that.

The graying wisps of hair on your fathers were now disheveled and sticking up, his sagging and wrinkled face now flushed with a furious red. He balled his fists as he spoke back to your brother. “What she did, regardless of what day it was, to Richard was unacceptable. Would you ever imagine Elaine treating you in such a way? No, of course not! Because [Y/N] is acting like a child, and an insolent one at that!”

He turned back to glare at you, taking one step further forward. “Richard, come here,” he said, his glower locked on you not wavering.

The tall, dark-haired man strode beside your father. You couldn’t read the expression on his face. You had wounded your ego and in public in front of your friends and family, something he would seldomly allow without biting back. But he remained quiet ever since his botched proposal. Usually he would yell back, make a scene, demand he stay in a hotel for the night, after arguing with you over nonsense. But his silent, narrow-eyed stare bore down on you and made you feel uneasy. There was nothing calm or passive about it.

“So, why don’t we start over, hm? Why don’t the two of you go to the living room to discuss and… reconsider Richard’s proposal once again, yes?” Your father’s gritted teeth betrayed the false air of diplomacy he was trying to prop up.

“I don’t think—” Your brother was caught off.

“[Y/N],” your father said more sternly this time. “Now.”

Your brother wanted to continue to protest, but he knew your father would not take no for an answer right now. Not with his fists balled up and his face as red as it was. So Matty, Phil, and Elaine watched breathlessly as you and Richard walked to the living room by yourselves. Phil noticed how your hands shook ever so slightly, even while you kept your lips pursed and tried to straighten your blouse, desperately clinging onto any semblance of composure before talking to your boyfriend.

Breathing out an exasperated sigh, your father, the man Phil used to revere so much as a child, began to step outside back to the yard. “There better still be some drinks in the cooler. I need one right now,” he muttered. Your mother followed him, obediently, to avoid the thick air of tension that was suffocating everyone in the kitchen.

Phil couldn’t help but let curiosity get the best of him. While Elaine consoled Matty in hushed voices and picked up the broken glass on the kitchen tile, Phil drifted away from them. He could hear Elaine telling Matty that it was okay, that they could hold a smaller, more intimate engagement party next week with just close friends. He knew that he, too, should be trying to console Phil. But he was worried about you. He just couldn’t believe your family was pressuring you to marry.

Phil stood just outside the living room beside its entrance, leaning on his side against the wall and focusing on the little he could hear. Bear padded up to Phil. Much calmer now, the German Shepherd sat down and looked up at Phil with a panting smile. Phil wanted to smile and pet the dog, but instead brought his finger up to his own lips, hoping the dog wouldn’t alert everyone to what Phil was doing.

“—how embarrassed I was left feeling! In front of everybody!” It sounded to Phil like Richard was still furious, still left with his pride injured. He was on the verge of yelling, but kept his voice somewhat hushed. Maybe to avoid drawing even more humiliation to himself tonight.

Your voice was less hushed, a little bolder. “We’ve barely been dating long enough to begin even thinking about marriage, Richard! I told you I wanted to wait!”

Phil carefully peeked into the room just enough to see that the two of you were standing and you had refused to sit on the couch. Richard towered over you, clearly trying to intimidate you. You were trapped between him and the untouched couch. You nervously ran your hand through your hair as Richard continued roughly gripping one of your shoulders with one of his hands. The sight of his hands on you like that made Phil’s skin crawl and stomach lurch. He tried his best to control himself.

“[Y/N],” Richard began again, clearly still annoyed. “You already made a scene with the first proposal. But I’m not giving up on you . And so is your father—”

You scoffed at this and rolled your eyes. 

“So, please. Just stop being so stupid and stubborn for a second, and just say yes so we can both move on ”

You stayed quiet. And Phil’s mind was racing in the midst of your silence. Was it possible you were actually considering it? He remembered you when you were younger, as a kid. You were stubborn, yes, and very outspoken. It’s what stopped any kids from picking on you or your art. But you also never betrayed your own goals, your own ideas and feelings, for the sake of someone else’s preferences. Even if that meant getting into ugly fights with others and giving your mom and dad the silent treatment for weeks. It was one of many qualities in you that Phil remembered admiring, and he hoped that it was a quality that had never diminished during these last fifteen years.

Phil didn’t want to admit it, but he also felt sick to the thought of you getting engaged just when he had finally reunited with you. He felt a nauseating feeling in his gut at the idea of you marrying this, clearly, arrogant guy. Phillip Graves himself was arrogant at times—sassy even, but when it came to the people he cared about, he was never arrogant. When it came to you, he could never be arrogant.

Finally, you did answer. “I already said my thoughts on the subject, Richard,” you said firmly. At that moment, you hoped Richard and your father would respect your wishes more than anything. Once again, you felt like nothing more than a pawn. “I already said no to you once. And now I’m saying it twice. Do I have to say it a third time?”

“Well, neither of us are getting any younger, [Y/N]. If you’re as serious about this relationship as I am, then you should at least be considering marriage with me. If not, then what’s the goddamn point of this? Of any of this with you?” He placed both his hands now on your shoulders, shaking you just a little. “What do you even want out of this?”

Your face seemed almost serene. You didn’t frown, nor did you nervously smile or even produce a grimace. You placed your hands on his that were squeezing your shoulders, gently sliding them off of you and placing them back to his sides. “After tonight, Richard. I can’t give you a straight answer. I don’t know. After this scene you tried to pull despite everything I told you, I can’t say I see a future with you anymore.”

Richard leaned away, almost repulsed by your answer. He scoffed in disbelief, shaking his head furiously. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean? Are you breaking up with me? ”

Phil would’ve started laughing if he didn’t give away the fact he was spying on you and Richard. But he also wanted to beam with pride at seeing you stand up for yourself despite Richard and your dad not ceasing in urging you two to get married. He was glad to see that you never lost your fiery side as you’ve grown. 

“I guess that’s what it is,” you mustered out. “If you can’t stay in a relationship with me without getting married immediately just to make our parents happy, then maybe we just shouldn’t be in a relationship.”

Any shock was replaced with fury. Richard began seething. “You can’t be so goddamn dumb, [Y/N],” he growled out. “Why are you throwing all of this away? We could’ve had a future together, a built home, a nice family. And you’re throwing it all away just because you wanted to make a point about waiting ?!”

You scoffed. “A nice home where you’re calling me an idiot for sticking to my values. Yeah, sure.” You tried to step beside him to walk away, to finally leave this conversation behind and head back to the family that cares about you. 

But instead Richard grabbed you by your forearm, whipping you back toward him and forcing you to face him again. His eyes were now no longer narrow with disdain but wide and dilated with rage. It was a look you only saw on rare occasions, mostly when you had screaming matches after you would “ruin the mood” when he’d try to have sex with you, drunk out of his mind, after one of his work parties. 

“Let me go,” you muttered, your annoyance desperately trying to mask any fear that could be detected in your voice. 

Suddenly, Richard grabbed your face with a hand, squeezing your jaw and cheeks as he did. He forced you to look at him, even while you desperately tried to pull his hand off you, scratching his forearms and trying to push him away. Phil’s heart began racing and he could feel the blood coursing through his body grow hotter. He couldn’t believe his eyes, but all he could focus on was how the solemn look in your eyes was now replaced with one of terror and shining with wet tears beginning to form.

Richard’s fury continued. “I never thought you could be this stupid. Do you even realize what you’re doing to your—”

Phil had enough. He rushed into the room and in what felt like a flash he pushed Richard away from you. You fell onto the couch, watching in horror as Richard tried to fight back against Phil. Sure, Richard was strong and big. But Phil’s hand-to-hand combat had been refined over the years in the Marine Corps. With little struggle, he managed to subdue him, and within seconds, Richard was pinned to the ground. Phil was successful in knocking the air out of Richard, leaving the man breathless and writhing on the floor. 

“What the fuck ! Get off me!! ” Richard growled through gritted teeth.

Phil smirked for a split second before ignoring him. He let Richard crumble to the ground before he went over and tentatively kneeled in front of Y/N. He saw once again furious tears pooling in your eyes threatening to fall . He placed a gentle hand on her knee and gazed up at her. “You okay [Y/N] ? He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

You shook your head, your own hand traveling to your jaw where Richard had roughly grabbed you. “No, I’m fine.” 

He nodded in understanding, still looking at you carefully. While he watched you, he felt Matty and Elaine rush into the room, confusion written on their faces. They saw your small form still sitting on the couch with Phil crouching in front of you while Richard was still getting up from the ground, catching his breath. 

“Th-thanks, Phil,” you said quietly. “I… didn’t know he was gonna lash out like that.”

“ He what ?!” Matty demanded. “Richard, what the hell did you do to my sister?!”

Richard was now back on his feet, he breathed out deeply and glared at Matty. Then he straightened his shirt and painted on his usual smug look of contempt he carried. “I broke up with her. If she’s not taking this relationship seriously, then neither will I.”

“What a load of bullshit,” Matty practically spat the words in Richard's face before grabbing him by his collar. Elaine watched in horror too, scurrying away to the side. Matty dragged him out of the room until both you and Phil lost sight of the two of them. Knowing Matty and his long-lasting hatred for Richard, you were sure he was kicking him out of your parents’ home. 

“Dad is going to be furious,” you mumbled to yourself, but Phil could hear you loud and clear. 

He took a seat next to you on the couch, deciding not to touch you further. He had to remind himself that you were no longer a 12 year old girl, he had to restrain himself from holding you . Yes, you two were very close when both of you were mere teens . But it had been years since you last spoke. Fifteen years to be exact, he didn’t know if you ever counted the days but he did, for some reason that even he couldn’t explain it to himself. He couldn’t overstep his boundaries. So he just pulled his hands back to his lap and sat there, trying to console you as best as he could.

“He’s not always like that… but when he is it gets too much ” you breathed out. Phil tried to listen but he was also acutely aware of how your hand, albeit sweaty from your nerves, felt on his much rougher, larger one. “Matty never liked him. But mom and dad adored him for some reason.”

Phil sighed out. He wished he could say something comforting, something that would chase all your anxieties and fears away. But all he could do was sit there and listen to nothing and everything all at once . Feeling your heat radiate from your side, and he sits besides you only a hair of a touch away. He could lean in and hold you close, and the thought made his heart flutter with nervousness. From here, he could smell how your hair smelled like roses and coconuts—

Before he could drift further away he had to snap back to reality with you still sitting next to him solemnly. How could he think that about you? You were his best friend’s sister for goodness sake… but was he in the wrong to think of you as the pretty woman that you have become? Yes he considered you as a little sister back in the day, but that was a decade and half ago. But now? His heart told him one thing but his brain said something else.

You always carried your emotions on your sleeves. If you were happy, your face would be brighter than the sun. But then if sad, a cloud would particularly be looming over your head. When you were flustered, your face would be brighter than the fresh tomato that his parents would have the cooks pick up from the farmers market And if you were angry, oh man that was something to witness. That was why he always loved teasing you and making you laugh, to get that reaction and to see those emotions. He admired them. But in your grown-up state, he noticed that trait in you lessened. It was as if you were trained to wear a mask that would hide all your emotions. Even now, watching you sit there waiting for the unknown, you try to mask your emotions, hide them in a box and lock it. And discard the keys somewhere where no one can find it. And it hurt Phill to see you in this state. He couldn’t decide which one was worse; having you go through the trauma of facing your now abusive ex boyfriend, or that you were forced to masquerade your emotions.

“I knew the guy for like half an hour, but… yeah, I can say he seems like a dick.” He pursed his lips, but raised his eyebrows when he heard and felt you start to chuckle. “Pun intended” Phil smirked as he looked at you.

“He reminds me of a guy I met back when I first joined MARSOC,” Phil continued. You tore your teary eyes away from your hands and looked at him, listening intently.  “He was big and burly too, but he actually was much more considerate. Hated bullies. Always lending the rest of us a hand if he could see we were struggling.”

You held back a snort. You couldn’t imagine Richard enduring something like Marines training, much less being generous and looking out for others if his skin was on the line. But as a child so many years back, you also couldn’t imagine Phil joining an elite fighting team. Not because he couldn’t work in a team, but because you only saw him as your brother’s best friend who just seemed to play football and video games—not shoot guns and hunt down dangerous men. So, you asked him more. While your mother was off trying to calm your father down, and your brother was getting fresh air to cool down with Elaine, the two of you stayed on the couch. While he did, Bear padded over to both of you, laying down at your feet and surely feeling sleepy already. Phil finally had a chance to reminisce out loud on some of his training days and some missions with the MARSOC Raiders—at least the parts of them he was allowed to tell others about. He even remarked how he had left the Raiders, now working with others to form a new PMC, hence why he was back in Texas. 

While you sat listening and while your tears dried, you couldn’t help but feel admiration bloom inside your chest for him. Admiration and… something familiar you still couldn’t put your finger on. Yes, you were thrilled to have him back in your life, someone you might’ve called your best friend as a young girl. You felt some nostalgia, of course. You felt like you were truly back home for the first time, even after visiting home a few times already after moving in with Richard. Still, while he spoke and you listened intently, you couldn’t help but admire how his lips moved when he smirked as he remembered something cheeky he did, or how his brows furrowed tightly and his jaw clenched when a difficult memory flashed for him. Or how he’d sometimes run his hand across the side of his head, his light brown hair getting disheveled for just a few moments without his knowing. It made you smile for a few seconds before returning your focus to his words. But even while you concentrated on him and his stories, you couldn’t ignore the fluttering of butterflies in your stomach and the way your palms sweat when you noticed him gazing at you several times.

For a moment, it felt good to disconnect from your world, from the drama and yelling of your parents and Richard. Delving into Phil’s past several years away from your hometown felt like finding an oasis in a harsh, unforgiving desert. Your racing heart that you felt when Richard had glowered down at you in furious disbelief moments ago had diminished, now a comforting lull in your chest as you listened to Phil’s familiar voice. But it was short-lived, and it made you realize, yes, this was just one night, when your parents both walked in.

Your father’s face was less red, but the tired look in his eyes made you know that he was still disappointed. “Your mother and I are heading to bed.” He pursed his lips into a thin line when he looked at you. He had so much he wanted to say to you, so much he wanted to yell too. But your mother next to him nudged him with her elbow and cleared her throat. He shook himself out of his death stare and instead looked at the man beside you. “It was, uh… good to see you, Phillip. Please give your father my regards when you see him. It’s been a while since we’ve emailed each other.”

Phil nodded curtly but said nothing in response. Next to you, he could feel how tense you still were. He didn’t want this conversation to drag on any longer. Without another word, your parents left the living room, finally retiring to their bedroom up upstairs. But replacing your parents’ spot in the living room’s entrance came Matty and Elaine. 

Elaine yawned. “How are y’all not tired yet?” 

“We’re going to be heading to the guest room in a bit. But by all means, let me know if you need anything. Just knock on our door or give me a call. I’m here.” Matty gave you a reassuring smile. 

Phil glanced down at his watch—you remember it as the same rolex that his dad had given him for his sixteenth birthday and that Phil only begrudgingly accepted.

“Jesus, time sure flies. It’s already one in the morning.” He huffed, feigning sleepiness,  and looked at you with pursed lips. He placed an earnest hand over his chest. “I’m sorry to have kept you awake so long, [Y/N].” 

You shook your head frantically. “No, don’t apologize, Phil. Catching up on what you’ve been up to has meant the world to me.”

Hit with sudden realization, Phil widened his eyes slightly. “[Y/N], do you need a place to sleep tonight?” The thought of you returning to your hotel room with your furious ex-boyfriend made his chest tighten. 

You shook your head. “No, I’ll just be sleeping in Matty’s room for the rest of my stay. So I'll be hanging around here for a while.” You honestly weren’t in a rush to return to Seattle immediately, just to have to see Richard glowering at you from every corner of his apartment. He was going to have to find a new roommate quickly.

Your brother wrapped his arm warmly around Elaine, bringing her sleepy body closer to him comfortingly. “See you two around,” he said before turning around and heading up the same stairs your parents had climbed earlier.

Phil got up from the couch, and you followed. You straightened your skirt as he rubbed the back of his neck, almost sheepishly. “Really, I mean it. I hope I didn’t bore the hell out of you, [Y/N].”

The two of you began to walk to the front door, Phil pulling out his car keys from his pockets. “No, Phil. I’m being honest. Just getting to sit and hear you speak for a while has really helped me. I’m—I feel a lot better now. Thanks to you.” You watched as he opened the door but then you realized he also is technically only visiting town. “Wait. Do-do you have a place to stay?”

He paused. He shut the door that he had left slightly ajar before, as he turned to look at you. “Oh, yeah I’m staying back at my parents’ place. They rent out the first floor as an AirBnB sometimes, especially since they mostly spend time with my uncle in St. Augustine in Florida. But they’re letting me stay on the second floor now that I’m back home for a while as I work things out.” He smiled warmly. He couldn’t help but find it endearing how you worried where he was staying as well. 

You let out a soft sigh. “Good.” You were relieved to hear not only that he wasn’t staying in some sketchy motel but that it was back in his childhood home, where you and him had spent so much time watching TV and pranking Matty on your weekends off of school. 

He leans in slightly. “That’s right,” he said in a low voice. “If you wanna come by tomorrow, we can hang out. I’ll even cook you something.” He smirked. 

You felt your heart leap and your face heat up furiously. You prayed that he couldn’t tell how flustered you felt. You tried to play it off smoothly. You tried to suppress the huge grin from growing on your lips and said, “I’ll think about it.”

Phil nodded and turned the doorknob again, getting ready to head out. “You better, or I’ll come by and snatch you myself.”

Your heart did backflips again at this. The image of eating dinner with him flashed in your mind, and you felt like your brain was short-circuiting. But you had to say something back, you had to answer without melting down. You desperately kept your composure but let out an airy laugh, one you hoped didn’t give away your nerves. “Goodnight, Phil. I’ll see you later.” 

You followed him, stepping outside to your front porch as you watched him heading back to his black sedan parked by the side of the house. You couldn’t help but watch him as he walked with the same confident strides from when he was your childhood crush, his keys jangling in his hands. 

As he pressed his car key’s FOB and and his car beeped, unlocking, he turned and glanced at you. He felt breathless as he saw as your hair blew in the cool nighttime breeze. But he didn’t want to give away how he, too, was gazing at you for too long. “Go inside, [Y/N],” he laughed. “You’re gonna catch a cold like that.”

You groaned and rolled your eyes. “Just making sure you’re gonna head out safely, Phil,” you called back, feigning annoyance. He shook his head and chuckled as he stepped into his car, headlights turning on and engine rumbling. 

You turned around and headed back inside, closing the front door but quickly scampering to the window to look through the blinds until you saw his car disappear down the road. 

Even after chatting with him all night, you still couldn’t believe Phil Graves had somehow returned to your life.

[bellewintersroe]

Max Verstappen x HornerDaughter!

ahhhh sorry for such a big break!!! I’ve been super busy and had no motivation to write- hopefully this writers block doesn’t last too much longer!! Here’s the LINK for part 17. Part 18 - Leni struggles with the loneliness she didn’t expect when arriving back in England. Without speaking to Max and completely skipping the Las Vegas GP, she thinks she’s hit a low point. Little does she know it’s about to get a whole lot worse when Max spots her with no other than her ex-boyfriend…

Sunday, 19th November 2023 - Las Vegas GP weekend.

The Las Vegas weekend was booming. Parties were happening left right and centre, alcohol was flowing and the advertising was just obnoxious.

Obnoxious that was to me. Whilst the race was occurring I was fast asleep- that quiet Sunday afternoon I sat in a local pub with a handful of my closer friends from my school days. It would’ve been pretty wholesome if my ex boyfriend didn’t just turn up out of the blue. I couldn’t have rolled my eyes any harder, immediately turning back to my phone to scroll past the many pictures of Max celebrating his win.

The sense of separation was straight up depressing. In fact, what happened between Max and I seemed to hurt worse than my breakup with my boyfriend of four years. I very quickly began to realise the overwhelmingly stupid mistake I’d made with Max. I no longer knew how to handle the feelings I had for him- who to tell, who to turn to. I replayed every moment over and over in my head about where it all went wrong- how it all went wrong. I was positive I’d exhausted all my friend’s ears about the topic, yet I still couldn’t rid the ache off my chest, no matter how hard I tried. “Guys let’s get a picture!!” My attention was diverted to my friend holding a phone up at the head of the table. Little did I know, taking that picture was about to make my life 10x more dramatic. It seemed that Max somehow did see a lot of things on social media, including the pictures of me and my friends and, sadly, my ex boyfriend sat right next to me. It’s not like I even talked to him once. So of course when my phone buzzed whilst I was sat at home later that evening, it was like all my prayers had been answered. Max had text. However, reading the message wasn’t so… prayers-being-answered-worthy. “I’m gonna go to bed, night night, you two.” I was very quick to leave the room I was in, my two siblings watching me in confusion as I sheepishly hurried upstairs. I didn’t even make it to my room before I was stood still, rereading the bitter toned text from Max.

Max: you could have told me if there was a reason you didn’t want to be with me

The message was short, sharp, it kinda didn’t make any sense, hence to why I was constantly re-reading it. My heart rate was sky high, and if I didn’t eventually collapse on my bed, I would’ve fainted from the lack of oxygen. I didn’t have it in me to hold the reply for another few minutes. I stared in utter confusion, feeling all the colour drain from my face. Leni: what????

Max: you’re back with your ex already

I momentarily frowned at the text, wincing in utter confusion. It became very clear what he was talking about when I remembered the picture from prior today. I felt borderline frantic, then silly. Max being bothered about this was a punch in the gut, maybe now was my chance to explain myself completely. Leni: he’s still friends with everybody, I didn’t speak to him once but I can’t stop him from going out to the same places as me? Max: ok

Leni: can we talk properly about all this? I let out a sigh, feeling as though my chest was about to literally explode. I couldn’t crucify with myself any longer knowing I’d completely destroyed this. Now Max was being blunt? Borderline petty? I knew how he normally text and this wasn’t right. The tears began to form around the same time my fingers started to tremble over my keypad. Max: I don’t know what there’s to talk about Leni

Leni: the fact you think I didn’t want to be serious with you because of my ex?? Max: I know that’s not the only reason

Leni: no its not a reason at all, me and my ex literally haven’t spoken a word to each other since we broke up, things didn’t work between us and I don’t want them to, I stopped things cos you’ve literally just broken up with Kelly, its way too soon

Max: it’s been months Leni, you know how I felt about that relationship and exactly why it ended, you know I would’ve waited for you, but it was all too immature for me, sleeping with each other and then nothing progresses? I don’t want that with you. Despite my attempts, there was no possible way I could even fathom a response. Anything I typed sounded pathetic or desperate- exactly how I felt. Max thought I was immature, maybe I was, but it still hurt to hear from him. I was torn between begging desperately for his forgiveness or succumbing to my internalised rage- thankfully I decided neither would work.

Instead, I kept myself to myself, using my I phone notes to rant out my dismay about the situation- about myself. I’d played Olivia Rodrigo on repeat, cried myself to sleep and during my showers, most mornings, if not all, I woke up with puffy eyes. I had officially hit rock bottom, and there was nothing I could do. I stared at myself back in the mirror. My eyes were red rimmed and despite my best efforts, the swelling around them hadn’t gone down. It didn’t help I couldn’t stop crying. I was so pathetic and immature, Max was right. I was being so dramatic, treating this like I’d broken up from my decade-long boyfriend. But I soon came to realise that’s exactly what it felt like. I’d been friends with Max for as long as I could remember, even during the awkward teenage days when I was too scared to be around boys. I remembered the prior few years before, when I was so happy to see him at the Grand Prix weekends, how close we’d been. Maybe getting together in the first place was a mistake? No. No that can’t be right.

How could it be when I’d just realised I loved him- and I think I always had.

My forehead dropped against the mirror with a groan, only picking it up when my phone screen lit up from the floor below me. At first my eyebrows knotted together, then they released in surprise.

Dad: I’ve bought your tickets to fly to AUH on Thursday. Geri’s told me you’ve been moping around, we’ll talk about it when you get here but I’m not having you missing the last Grand Prix. Fuck. Don’t get me wrong- anybody should and would be grateful for their dad doing this for them, and I was. But the thought of seeing Max was terrifying- I felt like an outsider, somebody who shouldn’t be there. It dawned on me that everybody’s friends and families would be there- including Max- I’d have to face his mum and sister knowing everything that had happened between us. I proceeded to drop my head against the mirror again. The anxiousness grew in my belly fast, all I wanted these past few days was to see Max, now all I could hope was for not to see him. As much as I hated to admit it, I absolutely dreaded the Grand Prix. Not only was I an angsty mess- I was an ungrateful one too…

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[novelconcepts]

Watching my mom evolve over the years has been such a fun experience. For context, she's got nine kids (at least five of whom have turned out to be queer; at least four of those have turned out to be non-binary), and for most of my life, she was just your average Gen-X Irish-Italian Catholic mom. She didn't really do vocal homophobia or whatever, but she also clearly didn't know how to handle it when her firstborn interrupted a Red Wings game to announce, "I think I'm gay." (Spoiler alert: that was me at fifteen or sixteen. In retrospect, of course the Tomboy For Life who had never been remotely interested in boys but was ALWAYS talking about actresses/female friends at school a bit too much wound up being gay. And announcing it. During a hockey game. Of course.)

She also didn't really know how to handle that same kid starting to date in college, bringing a girl home, and so on. She did a bit better when the next kid came out as a lesbian, but when that kid came out as non-binary (shout-out to that sib for doing some of the heavy lifting first), it was a whole new deal. It clearly had never crossed her mind before, that this might come up. Gay? She was figuring out gay. Gender stuff? Whew. A shiny new Pokemon of a situation.

The changed pronouns have been a bit difficult for my mom. The new names still get jumbled. (In fairness, the old names got jumbled, too--it was always a laundry list of names before she got to yours, no matter what you went by, because there were just so goddamned MANY of us.) It gets harder when she's stressed, and sometimes she just seems not to be getting it. I know it frustrates my siblings deeply. It can grate on me, too. You just want people to understand out the gate, to take you at your word, to shift gears without a slip-up. You don't want the awkward conversations, the painful skips, the rough patches. It's tempting to just give up on people if they don't stick the landing immediately.

But if you look a bit deeper, there's such a soft mama bear energy to my mom. Such a stubborn determination to get it right where it really counts. My mother, who never once skipped Sunday mass as I was growing up, has left the church completely because "they don't treat my family well." My mother, who once told me not to bring a girl home because it might confuse the youngest children, bought Converse sneakers expressly for my wedding to a woman. And my mother, who had never known the word non-binary, who didn't seem aware of the trans umbrella at all before her kids started huddling beneath it, keeps leaping to tell me all about the shows she's watching lately. The ones where "there's a non-binary character, and it's so cool that people can see that now!" The ones where "and this one is non-binary, and they're so great, and maybe it'll teach the shitty politicians of the world that they're just people, you know?"

Sometimes you just have to give people a little space. Let them stumble occasionally. They're going to. They're going to trip up. My mom hurt my feelings so many times when I was young, said so many of the wrong things right on the heels of the right ones, confused and upset me because I couldn't understand why she just didn't get it. But here she is, almost sixty years old, and so gleeful to tell me about the power of queer representation on TV. She doesn't always get it right, but goddamn, does she love her kids, and goddamn, does she want the world to love people like her kids, too.

[svefs]

Definitely the better Suzuki ever 👍

TW!: Cursing and mentions of alcoholism, NOT incest FFS, we love Iruma, IruAzz shipper reader frfr, I support other ships (not the bad bad ones y'all calm down)too don't attack me, im high and it's 3am, Fem!reader, hey bbg you look kinda cute

Summary: You're Iruma Suzuki's younger sister cause yes. Not really known by most of his friends since you're like 10 years younger than him (basically a kid that still can't attend school). That is untill you followed your older brother to Babyls secretly (how? Idk why are you asking me im defo no the author 🤷‍♀️)

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"Shichiro" said Kalego surrounded by an ominous aura while the misfits are sweating buckets in the background.

Balam Shichiro was only trying to help a toddler. Getting a lecture by co-worker was definitely not in list.

"BAT!" you screamed on the top of your lungs as if you were a drunkard

Uh oh

Few hours earlier

"Pera! upsies,"you babbled wanting to be carried.

"Y/N-sama, please forgive me but I am a bit busy here," Opera said while carrying the dirty laundry.

You huffed and walked away pouting at the fact that Opera was busy. It's childish but your still a kid so do whatever you want 🤷‍♀️

Unfortunately, a bright idea sparked into your mind. Your adoptive grandpa is the principal of Babyls, the school your big brother goes too. So if we're to go on a little adventure you'll be able to get your older brother and maybe your grandpa to play with you. It's basically child's play (how ironic), but you're a human child so it's fine.

So the journey begins, with you leaving Opera in a state of panic while you're following your carefree brother and his two friends while they walk to school. Of course it is harder for you to catch up to them since you can barely walk but you can crawl your way through hell if you wanted to.

Once you reached the school entrance it was basically empty, meaning you weren't fast enough to play with your brother before his class starts. As you were about to enter through the door, a deep voice startled you.

"A child?"

You look behind to see a tall man with chicken feet and short white hair. Iruma has told you about a white haired tall teacher with chicken feet named Balam Shichiro that is intimidating but kind nonetheless. So what do you do? The only logical thing duh.

"Bal!"

you shouted rendering him speechless.

"You know me?"

he asked while picking you up while you answered by nodding.

"VROOM VROOM!!"

"Vroom....?"

Few minutes after (he finally got the memo)

"So.... you want me to bring you to Iruma?"you nodded in response as he started walking somewhere. You were completely relaxed in Balam's hold which made him question your identity even more since he was used to people being scared of his appearance.Getting to Iruma was not really that hard. You can tell where he is all the time especially with the people he hangs out with. Poor Iruma, can't even live his school life quietly without drawing attention. But since class already started, he's definitely in the Royal one. He wouldn't be the type to skip class at all.

Back to the present

"AAAAAAAAAAAAA BIG BAD BAT!!!" you started shrieking definitely startling half the class from your sudden outburst.

"Y/N! Calm down," your brother takes you away from Balam's hold inorder to try and calm you down. Did it work?

Lol no.

Why?

Cause seeing a certain pink haired male, made you think of all the times your brother would come back home just to rant to you about him. Oh the burning pain, hearing your brother talk about his oh-so obvious crush that he has yet to realise. Almost felt bad for this Azz guy if it weren't for the fact this Azz guy has also yet to realise his feelings. This is too much bs for you to handle. Definitely too much.

Meanwhile Opera was still panicking at the mansion lmfao

Note:

You have no idea how bored I am

Request are finally open tho

[malereadermaniac]

Taylor Swift lyrics with Your Crush p.2

Male reader / Male crush

Requested but Tumblr deleted the ask 😭 m!reader (no genitalia mentioned) / FDNI word count: 1.1k fyi each lyric is a different scenario, they aren't linked

"Please don't be in love with someone else, please dont have somebody waitin' on you" ~ Enchanted

He was in love with you, (y/c) couldn't deny that anymore, but he was DEEP in the closet

After spending those whole 24h together, it only strengthened his feelings for you

He knew you must like him too after what the two of you did, but during the HUGE amount of talking you two did after having sex (y/c) mentioned his fear or coming out

Now, he's constantly stressed at the idea of you falling for another guy while you wait for (y/c)

He spends nights on end worrying about it, more than he worries about coming out in general

"Oh i remeber you driving to my house in the middle of the night, im the one who makes you laugh even when you're 'bout to cry" ~ You Belong with Me

Not to sound like a pick-me but his girlfriend was horrid

She only dated (y/c) for the social status, a social climber if you would

You and (y/c) have been friends for a while, becoming friends day 1 of high-school

He lived ages away but he would still come over to your house to hang out at least twice a week

You developed a crush on him real quick - after you came out he was one of the few people who stood up for you to the dickheads who thought it was hilarious that your liked guys - and you're heart just skipped a beat

But since he started dating his girlfriend, he's become slightly more distant and definitely less himself

(Y/c) seems overall less happy

So when your phone buzzes in the middle of the night, you could only guess it was (y/c) but the text itself freaked you out

"Im outside please come down"

You're outside ASAP

His eyes are sunken liked he'd been crying or hasn't been sleeping

"Sorry (y/n) I just really needed to talk to someone

You assure him it's okay and ask what's up, and that's when it starts

To summarise, they argued, (y/c) had had enough of his gf controlling little things in his life, she blew up and now he's single

And to summarise again, you invited him in, lent him a shoulder to cry on and the night ended with you two sharing a bed

"I need someone tonight. I'm sorry"

"I could see you in your suit and a neck tie, pass me a note saying 'meet me tonight' then we kiss and you know I won't ever tell" ~ I can see you

After high-school, (y/c) managed to solidify a fancy job, one which had many black tie events - rich people being rich

He would always bring you as a plus one, but you were his "friend" his co-workers had no idea you were his BOY"friend"

He had your permission to do that though, most of the people at these events were investors who were older than stonehenge, so they weren't too fond of gay people

But as soon as the event is over, once the door to the fancy car (y/c) can now afford closes he's all over you and vice versa

By the time you two arrive back home, your neck already had hickeys on it, and his top button is undone along with his gelled hair messed up

Your front door barely locks before (y/c) has you up against a wall, kissing up your neck to your lips

Your hands gently undo his neck tie, juxtaposing his rough hands man-handling you, your mouth, your face

"We could let out friends crash in the living room, this is our place, we make the rules" ~ Lover

You couldn't believe the man you'd known for 4 years, had a college crush on and eventually had a fling with would be the man you buy a house with

He was absolutely enamoured by you since that fateful day during finals, he would fantasise about this day

Memories would be made in this house:

Him sneaking up on you while you were baking in the kitchen, he scared you so much that you hit him with the dough

Playing with the whipped cream afterwards, giggling as he links some off your nose - a moment which could only end in one very spicy way

(Y/c) randomly saying he wanted to paint one of the walls purple at 11pm and the two of you driving to a 24h store and painting the wall until 4am - laughing the whole time

The Christmas lights staying up until the end of January, your friends telling you it was bad luck but the two of you wouldn't take them down - for the sole reason that the two of you couldn't find a day you both had time to do it, refusing to do it by yourselves

"Is this the end of all the endings? My broken bones are mending, with all these nights we're spending" ~ King of My Heart

The two of you were close friends, (y/c) had watched you go through every single painful breakup you could ever go through

He subconsciously wished you would break up with your boyfriend everytime you would get with a new one but he'd push those thoughts down for supportive ones for his dear friend

It was late at night, a few weeks after your boyfriend fucked you over again - he was originally your ex which exploited your kind nature, weakling his way back into your life according to (y/c)

Sitting on the hood of his car, you and (y/c) Chat away while drinking WDK, "sweet liquid shit" as (y/c) calls it but he drinks it for you cause you hate all other alcohol

You felt at home, comforted by bring with (y/c), and he felt that this was right, this was how it was supposed to be

That night ended with a kiss, under the moon light, utterly perfect

Or it ended with his car windows steamed up, it's up to you

"Our secret moments in a crowded room, they got no idea about me and you, there is an indentation in the shape of you, you made you're mark on me" ~ Dress

He's always been a possessive kinda guy, always touching you in some way

At a formal event, the two of you wanted to keep the PDA at a minimum, but (y/c) couldn't BEAR not being able to touch you for hours, so he decided the next best think was marking you

You'd never shouted at him louder

Not only did he bite your neck and leave a FAT hickey, but it was in a hard to hide spot

You had to spend an extra half hour getting ready cause concealer and Youtube hacks weren't working

Few people at the event noticed and none of them even asked you, but (y/c)'s ego had never soared higher

Also! Just wanna mention that while I do look at my ask box frequently, chances are requests won't be done unless I really like the idea - sorry!

So yeah that's also why this took forever to be made.

[bonbonchocolates]

Step Daddy

Yandere Stepfather Namjoon X Reader, Yandere Taehyung x Reader

Summary: When your stepfather's intentions are not good.......

Warnings: yandere Namjoon, yandere tae, locking, mentions of blowjob, bad mother, non-con touching, stabbing

A/N: Again originally from my Wattpad account. I feel like this is the worst oneshot I have ever written. I know you all will not like it.

Masterlist

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"Y/N!"

Yelled your step father, grabbing your attention.

"Did you call your dad again?"

He inquired.

"Yes, so what?"

"Didn't your mother tell you not to call that man ever again?"

"Listen here he is my dad and I can call him whenever I want."

"This is the last warning I'm giving you, never ever call that man again."

He warned you and left you. As if you are going to listen to him. Everyone tries to control your life, your mother, your stepfather and even your friends at school. You hoped that your dad got your custody instead of your mom. You really miss your dad and your mom never allows you to meet him or your younger brother. She never allows you to even call him.

In another way you can say that your mom controls your life. What you wear, where you go, with whom you do talk to, everything is decided by your mom. You are fed up of it, now you're eighteen years old and can take your decisions yourself.

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Time Skip:

You knocked at the door of your step father's house. Yes, step father's house, even though you're living here for eight years you still don't consider it as your home.

After a few minutes, your step father opened the door, he had a bright smile on his face. You entered inside without greeting him and went upstairs to your room.

You hated your stepfather so much, though he is always good to you. He is the one who broke your parents relationship. You were such a happy little family back then but Mr Kim Namjoon aka your stepfather came in your mother's life and destroyed our happy family. You remember that day ten years ago when you saw your parents fighting over something. You couldn't understand anything because you were a child and your little brother Jungkook had no idea what was going on. You just watched our parents fighting and then my mother leaving the house with an unknown man, who is now your stepfather.

You thought that your mother went forever, leaving you and your little brother alone. For a year you stayed with your father and brother. Your father tried his best to handle both of you alone but he had to go to his job too. So you had to take care of your little brother, who was only four years old. You were happy that way but one day your mother came with custody papers and took you with her. You didn't want to go but she dragged you and the last thing you saw was your little brother crying.

When you arrived at your step father's house you found out that you now have a little step sister. At first you thought that your mother took your custody because she loves you. But as days went by you realised that your mother brought you here just to take care of your little step sister. You saw how she loved your step sister more than you.

She is a very selfish woman and the worst mother. She always controled your life and never tried to understand you. Even though your step father treated you nicely and told you that he is your dad now but you made it clear that he can never replace your father. You hate both him and your mom.

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"Y/N"

You heard the voice of your step father. You left what you were doing and went downstairs.

"What now?"

"Dear can you please go to the basement and get me the tissues from there?"

You were about to say so but then remembered that if your mom comes to know about it she will get angry. You didn't want unwanted drama so agreed. You climed down the stairs and opened the door of the basement.

Who keeps tissues in the basement?

You imagined it to be very dirty but as you entered inside it was very clean which was unusual. It looked like someone cleaned it recently. You assumed it was your step father, he left his job recently and now does the household chores.

You saw a bunch of tissue papers kept on a faraway self. Without wasting any time you went towards it to grab the tissues and quickly leave from here. Just then you heard the sound of the door. You looked behind you to see the closed door. You quickly grabbed the tissues and went towards the door. You turned the door knob but you couldn't open it. You tried again and failed.

How did I get locked up here?

You banged the door and screamed inorder for Namjoon to hear it and come to your rescue but nothing worked. You don't even have your phone to call someone.

"Namjoon, I'm trapped here"

You tried to call for help and kept on banging the door but all your efforts went to vain. A few minutes passed this way, by now Namjoon should know about it.

What if, he's the one who locked me here?

No, he will not do such a thing, will he? I don't think so. I waited for I don't know how long. I kept on waiting for him and then suddenly the door opened revealing Namjoon. This is the first time you were happy seeing him.

"Ohh thank God you came"

You sighed in relief and a small smile made its way on your face. Your smile dropped immediately when you saw Namjoon checking you out hungrily. You decided to leave from here but as you were about to leave someone grabbed your hands and pushed you on the floor.

"Namjoon ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?"

You yelled at him.

"It's daddy for you"

He said with an evil smirk on his face.

"Stop this nonsense"

"Stop talking back to me. Be a good girl and suck daddy's d*ck."

He is not serious, right?

"What ?"

"You heard me right, so come here now"

"NO!"

Then you felt a stinging pain on your left cheek. He had just slapped you.

"No food for you today"

With that he left and locked the basement door again. No, how are you supposed to escape from here now? Unknowningly a drop of tear rolled down your face.

Why does all the bad things happen to me?

You then decided to search for a way to escape from here. You can't let your fear take control over you. You started to search in the basement and just then you found something shiny in one of the shelves. You picked it up and found it to be a knife, you quickly kept it in your pocket of your jeans. You can definitely use it to protect from your stepfather.

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Author POV:

"Honey, I'm home"

Yelled Y/N's mother with her younger daughter.

"Papa"

Minji (Y/N's step sister) came and hugged Namjoon.

"My princess, I missed you"

"I missed you too, Pa-"

"Where is Y/N?"

Y/N's mother asked grabbing their attention. At first Namjoon panicked but quickly became calm.

"She still hasn't come home now"

Namjoon tried to act as if has no idea and luckily Y/N's mother didn't doubt him.

"This girl, let her come home."

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Time Skip:

"Momma, I found this letter in unnie's room."

Minji handed the letter to her mom.

"Open it, honey"

Namjoon came in and stood beside Y/N's mother. She quickly opened the letter.

Mom, I won't be coming back home anytime again. There is a boy I like, actually I love him and he loves me to. So I am running away because you all will never allow me to be with him. Don't search for me. -Y/N

"What? Who did she run away with?"

"Maybe that boy, Taehyung. Didn't you see how close they were? I already had an idea. Believe me it's not our Y/N's fault that the boy trapped her."

Namjoon tried to show that he really cares about Y/N.

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Taehyung POV:

I heard someone banging the door and went to open it. As soon as I opened it someone punched on my face and grabbed my collar.

"Where is Y/N?"

"What are you talking about, Mister?"

I had no idea what was going on right now.

"Just answer my question"

Y/N's stepfather yelled at me.

"Y/N ran away with you right?"

Y/N's stepfather punched me again. He looked like he is about to murder me anytime.

"Listen to me mister, Y/N is not with me"

I tried to convince him because I really don't know where Y/N is right now.

"Y/N! Y/N! Where are you my child?"

As if she cares. Her mother had tears in her eyes but honestly this acting was not suiting her. I know what kind of a mother she is but the real question is where is Y/N?

"Mam, believe me Y/N is not with me. If you don't believe me you can go and search my house."

With that Y/N's stepfather left my collar and went to search, his wife following behind. I wiped my face and straightened my collar.

After a few minutes they came back.

"I told you, Y/N is not with me."

Ignoring what I said they left my apartment. I went and looked the door. Then a question striked on my head, how did they know my address?

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Y/N's POV:

I felt a weight on top of me. As soon as I opened my eyes I found Namjoon on top of me, sucking on my neck.

"So you are awake, now no one can save you from me."

He tried to open my t-shirt. I stared to panic. I can't let him do this.

"LEAVE ME"

I yelled at him but instead he started to bite my neck. Then I remembered something and tried to reach the pocket of my jeans. Luckily I was successful to take out the knife and quickly stabbed Namjoon on his shoulders.

He cried out in pain. I pushed him and he fell down. I was feeling very weak due to lack of food and water but still I stood on my foot. Without wasting time I ran towards the door and found it unlocked. I opened the door and ran from there. As I climbed up the stairs, I found it was completely dark, assuming it was night time.

I was about to go to my mother's room to talk about her husband's deed but then stopped.

Will she believe me?

So I unlocked the front door and ran outside the house. As I went outside I found no one there. The streets were totally empty. I kept on running and stopped after sometime, thinking that I'm safe.

"Y/N!"

Just then I heard the voice of the person whom I was running from. I looked back and found him standing a few feet away from me. It didn't look like I stabbed him a few moments ago.

I began to run again and then I found a car parked at the side of the road. The car looked oddly familiar but my brain is not working right now so I couldn't pinpoint whose car is this. I could see someone inside the car.

"Help me, please"

I banged on the window of the car and cried for help. The person who was inside the car quickly came out.

"Taehyung"

I said and hugged him. I was so happy to see him, my best friend and my crush. He returned the hug.

"Y/N what happened to you?"

"Taehyung please save me from him"

I couldn't control my tears and I had no idea that I was wetting his shirt.

"Ok first get inside."

He made me sit in the passenger seat of his car and closed the door. He too entered the car and sat on the driver's seat.

"Now explain to me what actually happened? And why are you running?"

"I-I H-he-"

I kept on shuttering and was about to say something when my eyes went on the rear view mirror of the car. I found Namjoon standing a few feets away from Taehyung's car.

"Taehyung, start the car."

He was confused at first but then his eyes too went to the rear view mirror. He started the car without asking me anything.

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Taehyung's POV:

Currently we are on the outskirts of the city running away from Y/N's stepfather. There was no chance of informing the police because, Y/N's stepfather was on a good post in the police department a few days ago before leaving his job. Secondly that man is very good at manipulating people.

I looked at my side I saw Y/N sleeping peacefully in the passenger seat. She looks so small and cute. She told me everything and I feel really bad for her that she had to go through all of it. But my Y/N is a smart and a strong girl that's why she escaped before something worse would happen.

I was very angry at Y/N's stepfather but I was grateful of him too. Only because of him Y/N is with me right now. I planned my entire future with her, even our five kids. I knew that Y/N liked me but if I would say my plan to her she would reject me. She wants to study and stand on her feet but I want her to be the perfect little wife and the mother of my children for me.

My love, now you don't need to worry about your stepfather because I promise I'll get rid of him. The only thing you need to worry about right now is me, your future husband.

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