#there are only a few things that takes wednesday off guard | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nicxl333 · 1 year

Note

hello

Could you write about bllk boy accidentally hurting their s/o badly.

It's okay if you're too busy. No pressure

BABY YOU SOLD ME A DREAM

characters: isagi yoichi, mikage reo, nagi seishiro, barou shouei, itoshi rin

content: major angst, reader is female coded (wears a dress, heels and makeup), mentions of smut in barou’s part but nothing actually happens (lol), vulgar language

☆彡 ISAGI YOICHI

“you think you know better than me? do me a favour and go find someone else who has the time to put up with your bullshit. ‘cause it won’t be me.”

you lay in your cold, desolate bed for the umpteenth time this week alone, which, considering it was only wednesday showed just how often isagi trained past late hours. as much as you understood his passion to climb to the top, it was simply neglect at this point. to you and to himself. you woke up, he was gone. you went to sleep, he wasn’t beside you.

of course, things were never like this in the beginning. he used to be around, take you out, nurture you and show you devoted love for you each and every time.

until he wasn’t.

once his team reached the quarterfinals of the champions league a while back, he changed. 2 hour training sessions in the evening turned into 4, and the time he spent with you halved as a result. it made you feel lonely and simply put, abandoned.

your texts querying his location and when he was coming home lay unanswered and unopened, probably within the confinement of his phone which lay in his bag during training. so you went to bed alone like you always did, missing what your relationship used to be.

as you stared at the pristine, bare white ceiling you heard a key in the lock of the front door. a few moments passed and the door pushed open, pads of feet resounding in the apartment.

you decided to go meet him in the living room, wanting to know if he’s at least okay.

as you entered the room, you were met with his figure, donned in black sweatpants paired with a black compression shirt. his normal post-training gear. the same gear that never failed to make you melt each and every time. he glanced at you in your nightwear and weary expression, due to him returning back so late.

“hey ‘ichi, how was training?”

“alright.”

you immediately frowned. outside the pitch he was never so curt and void of language. especially with you.

you ventured closer towards him, trying to debunk his guarded persona.

“are you sure? did anything happen to you?” you stepped closer still, till you were right in front of him, immediately noticing his dark circles, even in the dim lighting of the living room from the hallway light. you attempted to give him a hug, shrinking back in disappointment once he shrugged you off.

“i said it was alright. i’m fine, just go back to bed, i’ll join in a bit.”

bullshit. you knew full and well he would just retire to the sofa, watching playbacks of his games to further evaluate his performance. even when he wasn’t working physically he would somehow manage to work himself further mentally.

“yoichi. what’s wrong baby?”

“y/n, i won’t repeat myself again. go to bed.”

you stood there in disbelief. as far as you were concerned, you hadn’t done anything wrong, so it’s quite unbelievable that he would take whatever happened today out on you.

“isagi,” you made sure to use his last name to make aware you weren’t fucking around. “come correct with me please. i haven’t done anything to you and i’m concerned for your well-being. you’ve been going to sleep late, training until ungodly hours. this isn’t good for you and i’m now on the receiving end of your misery, god knows why.”

the tone in the room shifted, isagi, now displaying a scowl across his features at your rebuttal. yes, he was well aware he was maltreating himself, but to have you acknowledge his moment of weakness gave him an displeasing itch of anger that no one could scratch, not even you.

before he could think, the next words that flew out of his mouth changed the status of your relationship, whether he meant to or not.

“you think you know better than me? do me a favour and go find someone else who has the time to put up with your bullshit. ‘cause it won’t be me.”

you instantaneously drew back, his words punching you in the gut and twisting your insides. your heart leapt and fell, never expecting those words, out of isagi’s mouth of all people.

it was deathly silent for a moment, both parties having a staring match. you fought back tears, trying so damn hard to not allow him to see how his words affected you. alas, your emotions got the best of you.

you lightly sniffled, before balling your hands into fists. “you know what yoichi? fuck you, i’m done.”

you turned on your heel and made a beeline towards your shared bedroom, grabbing your biggest duffel and shoving clothes into them, not minding what it was that you picked up. only once isagi was the only individual in the living room did he snap out of his state, realising the weight of his words. he listened to the loud shuffling, registering that he may have just fucked his relationship over for good.

he swiftly followed you, watching you in a frenzy, having just changed into an outfit suitable enough for outside. it was then that he grasped you were serious, and slipped into full panic mode.

“y/n! y/n please baby, i didn’t mean any of that! don’t leave me.” he reached for your arm, falling apart, the same way you did moments before, when you pulled away from his touch. you knew if you succumbed to his pleas you might— might just stay. but you couldn’t. his words resonated within you and made you accept that fact that you needed space at the most, before your relationship delved into something irreparable.

you stood, duffel bag slung on your shoulder, tears running down each cheek, until they conjoined at your chin.

“isagi, i can’t. not right now. not when emotions are running this high. i need space. we should probably talk when we’re both calmed down. i’ll be at meguru’s house so you don’t need to worry about where i am.”

he respected your wishes, he had no choice. if he wanted this relationship to survive he had to.

so he let you go.

☆彡 MIKAGE REO

“you’re very much subpar, do you think i need to keep you around? my name alone will help find me someone better than you.”

one thing about mikage reo that really ticked you off was his obsession over his best friend, nagi. simply put,

he was always there.

when you were chilling together, when you went out, even after date nights he would come to your shared condo, playing video games with your boyfriend until who knows what time in the morning. it always felt like you had to share and fight for reo’s attention, which was pretty much a losing battle considering reo gave nagi as much of his attention to nagi as he did.

you did your best to not voice your concerns to him, withholding your true feelings, that you did. but sometimes there’s just moments where you can’t help but snap.

and that moment came at your first year anniversary dinner with reo. hell, you should’ve called it your first year anniversary dinner with yourself, considering the fucker didn’t even show up.

you had dolled yourself up so nicely, a sexy silk black dress (purchased with your own money, you didn’t like to depend on reo too much) with matching heels. your makeup was done flawlessly and not a hair out of place.

you sat at an expensive table at an expensive restaurant, sipping over-expensive wine while you waited for him to show up. you hadn’t seen him since this morning, due to him training all day today, but you had planned this dinner with him together a month ago, reservations and all, with reminders here and there about the upcoming date.

you had waited for about an hour, taking into consideration that there could be traffic, although you hadn’t experienced any on the way here, thus giving him the benefit of the doubt.

however, when no signs showed of him arriving you turned to a waiter and excused yourself, paying the bill and walking out to collect your car from the valet.

once it was brought to you and you were seated, ready to drive off, the first thing you did was call reo via the bluetooth feature, beyond pissed off.

after a few rings he picked up, the sounds of video game gunfire audible in the background.

“y/n? what’s up? where are you?”

you scoffed incredulously, ignoring the city lights whizzing past you as you drove on the highway.

“what’s up? where am i? reo, do you know what day it is today?”

“no, why?”

you gripped the leather of your steering wheel, your frustration hitting a boiling point. “you cannot be serious. does our one year anniversary ring any bells, huh? the fact that i’ve reminded you, time and time again? you stood me up reo! what could you have possibly been doing that was more important than remembering a big milestone in our relationship?!”

he didn’t even have to answer for you, because the answer came in the form of a “reo, why did you stop? our team just lost.”

nagi seishiro.

if you weren’t angry before, you were absolutely livid now.

“reo, so you mean to tell me that spending time with your friend was more important than remembering your one year anniversary with your girlfriend? do i mean nothing to you?”

“y/n it’s not that deep, we can just reschedule for tomorrow or something.” you could hear his exasperation through the phone. the audacity of him, considering he was completely at fault here.

“not that deep? not that deep?! you let me sit there for over an hour in an upscale restaurant by myself and didn’t even think to worry about where i was! why is it not getting through to you that you missed our anniversary to play games? you see nagi everyday, whether it’s at training or at home. you mean to tell me that you couldn’t bear to not see him for one singular day out of the week?”

there were probably a ton of possibilities and explanations for why he said what he said next, but if you had to choose, it would probably be the fact that nagi could most likely hear the argument over the phone, which lead reo to attempt to regain control over the situation, by any means possible, to not appear weak.

“you’re very much subpar, do you think i need to keep you around? my name alone will help find me someone better than you.”

oh. you see how it is.

his words stunned you into silence, knocking the wind out of you. the only sounds that could be heard was the continuous tapping from reo’s controller and the low hum of your engine as you drove.

“look y/n i’m busy now, so we can talk later when you’re ho-”

you didn’t wanna hear what else he had to say, hanging up the call via the steering wheel and letting out a deep breath you didn’t realise you were holding.

without fail you indicated to turn off the highway, making your way to the nearest hotel. nevermind the fact that you didn’t have any clothes, you simply couldn’t handle seeing reo after the way he just wounded you.

once at the hotel and settled in your room you lay swaddled in the crisp white blankets. without any external eyes being able to see your state you let all walls crumble, tears cascading down in waves as you let all the previous bottled emotions fly free.

unbeknownst to you, your phone lay on the side table, softly vibrating whilst the screen lit up to show a picture of you and reo at a theme park, a call coming though from him.

it lay unanswered.

☆彡 NAGI SEISHIRO

“being in a relationship is a hassle already, i shouldn’t have to deal with you bitching and whining on top of that.”

you awoke to the sounds of rapid gunfire emanating from the living room, sighing to yourself. once again, nagi was devoting himself to a night of endless gaming.

it was a never-ending cycle. when he wasn't gaming, he was training and vice versa. as much as you loved and embraced the fact that nagi was lazy, he could at least make some effort to give you attention every once in a while.

rubbing the sleep away from your eyes you trudged your way through the apartment wearily, before being met with his figure, hunched on the sofa, eyes glued to the screen in front of him.

"sei, when are you coming to bed? i miss you."

"in a bit y/n."

"sei baby you said that last night, and i came back to you passed out on the sofa. the bluelight isn't good for you, especially so late."

he barely was around as it is, but when he was, he either slept, or was parked on the sofa.

it made you feel unappreciated, and majorly unloved. he never made the effort to take you out, tell you that you ever looked pretty or even acknowledge you anymore. to you at this point he was practically a roommate with a shoddy title that really shouldn't apply to the both of you.

"y/n, just leave me alone for now. i'm too tired to get into it with you."

"so you're too tired to argue with me being concerned for your wellbeing, but not too tired to invest your time into games, which ultimately drains your thought processes more? really sei?"

he was still focusing on the tv instead of your words, which ticked you off. so, determined to get his full attention, for once, you walked towards the tv and stood directly in front of it, blocking his vision, arms crossed and frowning.

"what the hell y/n? you made me lose."

"seishiro, can you stop being an ass for just a second and focus on me and what i have to say?”

faced with no way out, he had to oblige, placing the controller down with a heavy sigh, letting you know he was agitated. you couldn’t give a flying fuck though. you’d had enough of being neglected by nagi, and weren’t going to let him off this time.

“you don’t spend time with me anymore. you never take me out, we don’t ever talk to each other anymore. is it so bad for me to want to spend time with my boyfriend? is a game really more important than me? or is being with me detrimental to you in some way?”

he rolled his eyes, sinking back into the soft material of the sofa, irises piercing into yours. you shrunk back at his change in demeanour.

“being in a relationship is a hassle already, i shouldn’t have to deal with you bitching and whining on top of that.”

huh?

“nagi, where is this coming from? what do you mean being in a relationship is a hassl- i’m a hassle?”

he shrugged while rising to his feet, placing a hand behind his head and massaging his neck.

“i said what i said didn’t i? look, i’m going to bed, happy now? i don’t wanna argue with you, you’re too loud when you’re angry.”

you stood in shock, registering his words fully before swallowing and deeply inhaling.

“forget it nagi, i’m leaving. lose my number.”

“leaving to go where?” he watched as you briskly walked to the bedroom, following you in as you changed, grabbing your phone and keys.

“that’s none of your concern anymore. i’m breaking up with you.”

he said nothing as you walked to the front door, leaving with a final slam.

he should’ve stopped you, he really should’ve, for he would come to realise soon enough that allowing you to go,

would be one of the worst decisions he ever made.

☆彡 BAROU SHOUEI

“oi, i didn’t get into a relationship with you just so you can make my life harder. fix up or leave.”

when you asked barou out, you knew damn well what you were signing up for. considering he was so headstrong, particularly when it came to football, there would be moments where he might be nonchalant or absent.

what you didn’t anticipate, would be just how bad he would get.

once his mind was focused on football, specifically climbing his way to the top, there were no distractions, especially from his girlfriend, who at times he deemed his biggest distraction.

you did try to help and aid him every way you could, cooking him meals to eat after late night practices, tending to his injuries he may obtain after over-intensive sessions, cleaning up the apartment flawlessly so he wouldn’t be tempted to do it himself. all you really wanted in return was love.

surely that wasn’t too much to ask for, right?

wrong.

even after 7 months of dating, public outings with attempts to hold his hand resulted in subtle swatting away, instead opting to walk side by side. laying in bed together? don’t expect any cuddles from him. quite laughable actually that you’d ever think he’d be willing to do that. don’t think movie nights will be any different either. you’d better be keeping your hands to yourself.

fucking was a rarity, only really when he was very much pent up with frustration from football, libido overflowing from lack of release. and even then, while you were able to cum, that’s pretty much all there was to it. no making love or anything like that. he wouldn’t display his emotions to you enough in the first place for that to ever happen.

when you asked barou out, you knew damn well what you were signing up for. but you didn’t know it would be this hard. you figured he would loosen up eventually, getting used to at least some form of affection towards you. a little peck on the lips, or a hug from behind every once in a while would be nice.

one day, you simply grew tired. you were sitting on the dining table with him, having just finished dinner. barou stood up, ready to leave the table to shower.

“shouei.”

he stopped in his tracks, pivoting on one heel to turn and face you. his face remained blank, save for his usual signature eyebrow, arched in waiting.

“hm?”

“i-” you suddenly grew self conscious, afraid to voice your concerns to him. if you wanted things to change however, this conversation had to happen sooner rather than later.

“can we do more stuff together?”

his face now contorted into utter confusion, genuinely puzzled by what you were trying to say.

“what do you mean? i do enough with you do i not?”

“no, not that that sho’, i mean more couples stuff. like…couldn’t you just be more affectionate? i just— i don’t know how you feel about me at certain points, you don’t tell me anything as it is.”

he looked at you, playing with your hands, trying to look anywhere but him, clearly uncomfortable about this conversation.

“cmon y/n, you know how it goes already, i’m not into shit like that. i may like you and all, but all that lovey-dovey stuff? that ain’t me. never has and never will be. surely you should understand how i feel about you? the fact that i’ve kept you around this long should say more than enough.”

damn. fucking cold. either way, you weren’t backing down. you stood there, holding a firm staring competition with him before opening your mouth to speak.

“shouei, it’s been 7 months and news flash! it doesn’t. when you do shit like this, it makes me feel fucking inadequate. like i’m not deserving of you. long story short, you make me feel like shit. i’m tired of it sho’.”

“y/n, regardless of how you feel, i told you how i feel, and that ain’t gonna change.”

you couldn’t accept what he was telling you, believing that what you were saying weren’t getting through to his thick skull. his stance was too relaxed for your liking, arms simply crossed over the other, looking slightly bored.

“you’re not getting it shouei!” you raised your voice slightly, not quite shouting, but about two thirds of the way there. “you’re not understan-”

“oi, i didn’t get into a relationship with you just so you can make my life harder. fix up or leave.”

you halted, making sure you heard him correctly. to hear that he basically wouldn’t fight for 7 months worth of memories and time with each other left you in denial that it would be so easy for him to let go.

“excuse me?”

“did i stutter? fix up, or leave. two choices, one answer. it’s up to you but whatever you pick is your business.”

he gave you an out, an out from what you were currently going through. and as much as you did love and care for barou, you’d be a fool not to take it. things would only get worse.

you chose the latter, opting to leave, considering how little value your relationship held to barou. weeks passed, and the items you once held in the apartment decreased, leaving a half completed house, just like your heart.

he continued as normal at first, trying to get used to the newfound ‘freedom’. but as days passed on, the emptiness of the household became more apparent. the meals you used to cook were no more, barou having to take on the tasks himself. his injuries were taken care of in a subpar manner. while he could do it adequately, they weren’t bandaged or plastered as well as you used to do it. yes he would clean, but having it done already when he came back from training and to his standard…made him start to realise just how much you really did for him.

and maybe— maybe you weren’t so bad to have around. you did give him a sense of comfort that he could not achieve on his own, filling him on things that happened during your day gave him a sense of normalcy which alternately gave him that balance from his meticulous life as a quickly rising footballer.

he missed you, he missed what you had,

it’s a pity he realised only when it was too late.

☆彡 ITOSHI RIN

“honestly i don’t understand why i got with you in the first place. you’re so lukewarm it hurts.”

you were both busy. you both knew and understood that. rin was constantly abroad on travels for football and you had your own stuff going on at work, often leaving the office late at night.

when your schedules would occasionally match up and you’d both be home, most of the time it would still be you alone. rin would go off on his own to his usual training ground and work himself to the bone. he wouldn’t even tell you he was leaving, disregarding your worries or concerns that may surface.

you jolted awake randomly, looking to your left to see disturbed duvet covers, but an empty side. yet again. next you turned to your phone, squinting at the light from the screen which temporarily blinded you.

2:34am

you could take a guess or two at where rin was. specifically because you knew he lost his last match abroad and was pissed off about it, meaning double the training he usually did. you threw on some clothes, splashed water on your face and grabbed your car keys to drive to the open football field.

the massive stadium style lights lit up the field, illuminating it in a cool white, as you pulled up next to rin’s car. even from the car park you could hear the discernible sounds of rin’s foot booting a ball repeatedly. once closer, you could see him in his normal training gear, sweating profusely, enough to fill a small bucket.

“rin!”

he stopped, just short of making the next ball his victim, making eye contact with you, not expecting to see you there of all places this late.

he waited until you had crossed the distance between you, and stood in front of him to speak.

“y/n, why are you out here this early? i thought you were sleeping.”

“rin, i should be asking you that. it’s too early to be this active my love. come home please, i’m worried for you.”

all was silent for a moment, the only audible sounds on the pitch being a crow cawing in the distance, and rin’s heavy breathing.

“…i’m fine. just go back home. it’s too early for you to be up.”

you stood, hand on hip, showing your determination to get him to give up, not taking no for an answer.

“rin, you need to sleep. you’re overworking yourself. what happens when you’re fatigued and you leave yourself open for mistakes to happen? it’ll be worse for you in the long run.”

“tch, i wouldn’t expect someone who does office work all day to know the inner workings of an athlete. you don’t understand y/n.”

you sighed exasperatingly at his attempts to disarm you. he could be so stubborn when it was really for his own good.

“rin, i don’t need to be an athlete to understand that this isn’t good for you. anyone with two working brain cells can understand that constant working out and lack of sleep isn’t healthy.”

he rolled his eyes and turned back to the football in front of him.

“fine. whether or not you leave isn’t my problem, but i’m not leaving. stay or go, the outcome is the same either way.”

he took position, aiming and shooting flawlessly at the top left corner of the goal, the ball spinning against the net before falling to the ground.

he grabbed another ball, ready to complete the same procedure before you interrupted him once more.

“rin, just please come home, you can come back tomorrow. just because you lost your match doesn’t mean you should overwork yourself like this.”

this time when he turned back towards you, the tone had shifted. his face immediately darkened, eyes thinning into dark slits, eyebrows forming a crease on his forehead. his teal eyes shot daggers into yours.

“listen. we may be together, but that doesn’t mean you get to talk to me like you know what i’m going through. i’m going to be the best football player out there, and if i need to work double to make that happen, then so. be. it. i don’t need someone like you telling me about what i should or should not be doing.”

you stood in silence, effectively stunned and insulted simultaneously. you couldn’t say anything to counter yourself, rin’s harsh words opening up a side to him you’ve never seen before. that wasn’t the worst of it though.

“honestly i don’t understand why i got with you in the first place. you’re so lukewarm it hurts.”

your heart shattered, face hung in desolation and disheartenment.

after not hearing you argue back for a while he scoffed, walking to the side to collect his training bag. “whatever, i’m leaving now.”

he left you there, standing while the gears turned in your head to make some semblance of his words.

you didn’t even register you were crying until the cold nipped at your cheeks, decreasing the temperature of the liquid against your face. you pulled yourself together, just about enough to shakily make your way back to your car and press the ignition button.

you spent the whole car ride crying your eyes out, before wiping your eyes as you arrived back home. rin’s car was nowhere to be seen.

you walked up to the front door, slotting your key in and twisting your wrist to align with the lock.

pushing the door open, you stepped in to see the lights off and the aura dark.

“rin?”

silence.

“rin, are you there?”

nothing.

you sighed, tossing your keys on the table next to the door, making a beeline to your shared bedroom. it was empty, no signs of life present.

you stripped out of your outside clothes and slipped under the covers,

leaving you to cry yourself to sleep, wondering when it all went wrong.

baby you sold me a dream pt.2

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just-my-latest-hyperfixation · 3 months

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Wiggly Wednesday 🧠🪱

Starting a new tag game, because why the hell not? I'm gonna post a random brainworm/headcanon/whatever I've been thinking of lately and tag a few friends to share one of their own. Let's hear all those fun ideas!

Today, I'm thinking about ... ... Eddie, who took the job as night guard at the zoo because it sounded like a nice, easy way to earn some money until his music career takes off. It's quiet, there's nobody bothering him, and all he has to do is do his rounds and keep an eye on the security cameras while he works on his campaigns. Except, nobody told him that ... weird things happen, once the gates have closed and the zoo turns dark. There's voices and footsteps in the night, shadows move at the corner of his eye and apparently Stevie the seal - beloved visitor favorite among children and adults alike - has gone missing? Anyhow, Eddie is freaking out about this, so when he's doing his rounds near the seal enclosure one night and finds himself trapped between the mysterious shadowy figure and the only path to escape, he attacks. Except it's not an animal thief or a murderer. It's a very gorgeous, very naked dude who keeps babbling some nonsense or other about needing to find his cloak? Eddie's so very confused, and did he mention the guy is bumfuck naked? Once Eddie has calmed down enough to listen (and keep his eyes from straying down to the dude's really impressive ... assets every two seconds), it turns out that the guy isn't just a random exhibitionist, but in fact Stevie the seal ... or selkie, apparently. Anyhow, they now need to work together to retrieve his lost hide ... or maybe find him some hand-me-downs in the meantime, because Eddie thinks his brain might just leak out his ears otherwise.

@wormdebut @thefreakandthehair @frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe @penny00dreadful @sidekick-hero

@wynnyfryd @medusapelagia @vegasol @bellandora @cuips-not-cute - what brainworms do you have wiggling?

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie fanfic #steddie brainrot #fanfiction writer #fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #tag game #wiggly wednesday #hype's wiggly Wednesday #hype's brainworms

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yogurtkags · 1 month

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cid ! ! congratulations on 100 followers lovely <3 if it’s not too late, could i join your event with kuroo + office romance / coworkers to lovers. maybe a lil secret relationship sprinkled in 🤭 thank you so much !!! ^_^

❝ LOVEBIRDS ❞ — kuroo tetsurou

cw. f!reader, fluff, established relationship, office romance, not-so secret relationship (that everyone knows about), not beta read. | wc: 568

event masterlist

“don’t forget you have a meeting in…” you glance at your watch, grey patterned carpet below your feet dulling the click of your shoes as you walk up to the desk in the middle of the room, “15 minutes.”

kuroo sighs, lifting a file up in your direction and rubbing his eyes with his free hand, “ugh another one?” you barely catch him mumbling under his breath that he needs another cup of coffee.

“i know, i’m sorry.” you coo, taking it from him and adding it to the stack on your arm. “your next one’s not until 3 though, so there’s plenty of time to coop up in your office with little old me until then.”

he peers up at you with the softest puppy eyes he can muster up, painted with purplish dark circles and a pout on his naturally rosy lips, “can we have lunch together after?”

“people are going to talk, kuroo.”

“you’re so dramatic, we’ll just be eating!”

you shoot him a pointed look, “this would be the third time this week and it’s only wednesday.”

you remember how the rumours spread like wildfire when someone spotted kuroo drinking out of a mug with a lipstick stain lining the rim, the shade a little too close to the one you wear to be coincidental.

there was nothing wrong with dating your co-worker, who is by extension, your boss. by nothing you mean everything, because what would everyone think? you’re not about to be that person that climbed up the ranks just because their partner was in a favourable position with the company, that’s the last thing you’d want people to think about your relationship with him— he’s so much more than that.

kuroo on the other hand, thinks it’s perfectly fine. just look at suits! harvey and donna, mike and rachel, oh don’t let him go on. he’s a sucker for a sweet office romance and when you waltzed through the doors of his office announcing that you were his new personal assistant, it was love at first sight.

the longer you stayed by his side, the more he was convinced that you just so happened to be the woman of his dreams. you’re responsible, put-together, keeps him in check which he finds so hot— very few of his past PAs could keep up with him. he’s constantly busy and taking on more and more projects, most find him slightly obnoxious, his smooth tongue and jokes get under the skin of those that couldn’t keep up. but you, you take it all in stride, and instead of trying to catch up with him, you keep him on his toes and encourage him to reach for greater heights.

you two make a good duo, and everyone else in the team can see your chemistry and the way you’ve positively influenced his productivity and output, and thankfully his work-life balance (and the way he looks at you with stars in his eyes). hell, it’s not even an exaggeration when they say his office plants have not looked healthier since your green thumbs graced them with your presence.

as the dreaded meeting concludes with good news and you leave the conference room falling in step with kuroo, his mentor calls out to him much to the team’s humour (and your chagrin), catching the two of you off guard with reddening ears.

“enjoy your lunch break, lovebirds!”

notes. aimsie !! thank you for your support always ♡

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callsign-mayhem · 2 months

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heartbreak feels so good (part 3)

Pairing: Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Female!Reader Word count: 6.2k CW: Shitty ex-boyfriends, slow burn, angst, fluff, use of Y/N

Part One Part Two

Whether by the grace of some mystical power or Elijah choosing to be sensible and avoid you, you managed to go three days without running into him on base. During these three days, you saw more of Bradley and Natasha than you ever had while working. You were an engineer and spent most of your days nestled underneath fighter jets or shoulder-deep in their engines, while your friends spent most of theirs in the sky. Because of this, it was rare that you crossed paths.

While you’d found the past three days extremely pleasant, you knew their presence was only heavy because they were keeping an eye on you.

On Monday, Bradley came into the hangar and told you that his jet had started making a weird noise whenever he took off. You spent most of the day attempting to pinpoint the problem, and he stayed with you while you worked, pestering you from his perch on an overturned oil drum.

Why did it take you so long to pinpoint the problem? Because there wasn’t one. After hours of taking things apart and adjusting things, you finally relented and asked him to start the engine while you were standing next to the plane. You listened intently for a few seconds and eventually held your hand up for him to cut the engine.

Throwing your hands up in exasperation, you shouted: ‘I don’t hear anything!’

Bradley climbed out of the cockpit, looking confused.

‘Huh, that’s odd. You must have fixed it without realising when you pulled that pipe out.’

‘Well, that’s lucky then.’ You played along. ‘I guess you can report back to Mav now.’

He seemed mildly disappointed. ‘I guess so.’

On Tuesday around lunchtime, Nat brought In-N-Out to the hangar. There was enough food to feed the whole squadron, so it shouldn’t have surprised you when Bradley, Jake, Bob, Javy, Mickey and Reuben waltzed in. You weren’t sure these guys even took lunch breaks, let alone took them all simultaneously. One thing you were sure of, however, was that Bradley was the only person on base who knew how much you loved In-N-Out. He’d discovered this after a particularly rowdy night out just before you’d met Elijah when you’d insisted he find a way to take you there even though you were both slaughtered and missing the rest of your group. He’d been the only one there, which led you to conclude that he’d orchestrated this group meal that had so clearly been intended to cheer you up.

I mean, come on. They weren’t even trying to hide it. It would have been flattering if not for the embarrassment. They were so concerned that you couldn’t cope with this heartbreak alone that they’d indirectly put you under a 24/7 watch.

On Wednesday, Bradley and Nat were both waiting for you outside the hangar when you finished up for the day. They’d already changed out of their flight suits, and Nat had a beach bag over her shoulder.

‘There she is,’ Bradley beamed, pushing his aviators onto the top of his head. ‘We’re heading to the beach for a swim. Thought you might like to join us.’

You had to admit, a dip in the ocean before dinner sounded nice.

‘I didn’t bring a swimsuit, though.’

‘I have a spare.’ Natasha grinned.

‘That’s convenient.’ You said, raising a brow.

She shrugged. ‘It’s always good to be prepared.’

Now, it was Thursday morning, and you were sitting outside on the tarmac, drinking coffee and watching the pilots start their drills. The sun might have been low in the sky, but from the way the air rippled above the runway, you could tell it would be a scorcher. After a delightful start to your week, you’d almost forgotten that you were supposed to have your guard up just in case. This wasn’t to say you’d forgotten about Elijah and all your negative emotions. It was more that you’d been too distracted to notice how your body and mind held said emotions, and it was only now that you saw him drilling with the rest of the pilots that you’d been reminded.

As much as you hated to say it, he looked good when he dropped to the floor and started doing his press-ups. You had to find a way to get your mind off this undeniable fact that didn’t involve going inside before you’d finished your morning ritual.

Nobody would have blamed you for opting to look at Bradley instead. Still, you felt guilty anyway, partly because you were only looking at him as a way of not looking at your ex and partly because it felt highly intimate, even though he had no idea what was happening.

By the time you’d finished the last sip of your coffee, you needed a cool shower to bring you back down to planet Earth. To say you were flustered was perhaps the biggest understatement of the year.

Thankfully, time started to slip away the minute you lost yourself in your work for the day. Having something productive to do was massively beneficial. If nothing else, your heartbreak taught you that keeping your hands busy was the key to forgetting that you were in agony.

Lunchtime came and went. The last time you’d so much as glanced at a clock, it had been 9:30 am. Now, at nearly 4 pm, you’d only put your wrench down because you needed the bathroom.

There was only an hour left of your work day, and since you’d stopped and lost your momentum, you wondered whether anybody would miss you if you cut out early. The pilots had been in a training seminar all day, so you hadn’t seen anyone, and as much as you loved your friends for looking out for you, the peace and quiet had been soothing. Being able to zone out and focus on rebuilding part of an engine, scrubbing turbulence ducts or configuring navigation systems without half the squadron hovering over you had been damn near therapeutic.

But you were ready for a well-deserved self-care night.

After cleaning down, turning everything off and locking up, you made the short walk back to the main base and grabbed your belongings from your locker. Normally you changed clothes before leaving the base, but you didn’t want to risk running into anyone in the changing rooms, so you unzipped the top half of your flight suit and tied it around your waist. You always wore black tank tops underneath to avoid any noticeable oil stains.

It seemed as though everyone else was still busy, as you didn’t run into anyone on your way through the building. In fact, you made it all the way to your car without so much as a ‘hey, Y/N.’ You were calm and content by the time you walked through your front door, more than happy to be alone with your own thoughts for the first time since the breakup. Part of you thought it was too soon to be this at ease, but you weren’t one for looking gift horses in the mouths.

So, it was time to start your self care night.

Step one: throw your dirty uniform in the wash. Step two: quick shower and hair wash.

Step three: run a bubble bath with your most luxurious products. Step four: pour yourself a glass of your favourite wine. Step five: relax in the aforementioned bubble bath and finally finish the novel you’d been trying to finish since last month.

Step six: get rudely interrupted by someone buzzing your intercom thirty million times.

Step six was supposed to be: get out of the bath, find your cosiest pyjamas and order takeout to eat while watching Gilmore Girls.

This was not part of your plan.

With a huff, you bookmarked your page (you were so close to being done that it almost hurt to put the book down) and grabbed a towel from the rack. The buzzing was constant, and you hoped whoever it was had either been mugged or stabbed. Or both. Because jeez.

In your haste to get the buzzing to stop, you didn’t even ask who it was. Water dripped onto the floor where you stood, and you wrapped your towel tighter. Panic started to set in. What if it was Elijah? The thought of him seeing you like this after everything made you realise that opening the door in nothing but a towel was probably not a good idea. But just as you were about to run to your bedroom for your dressing gown, the knocking started.

You froze.

It wasn’t the usual three polite knocks that people usually make at somebody’s door. It was rapid and incessant, like the buzzing. Whoever stood behind that door really needed to see you.

Heart racing, you peeked through the spy hole. Panic quickly gave way to shock, which soon gave way to a strange, warm sensation that tingled throughout your entire body, from the top of your head to the tips of your toes.

The strangeness of it all eclipsed your earlier decision to put on your dressing gown, and you opened the door without hesitating.

Bradley was panting, clearly having run up all three flights of stairs leading to your apartment. He was still in his flight suit, the top of which was tied around his waist just as yours had been. A bead of sweat trickled down the side of his neck, settling in the sweet spot where his collarbone started. His black T-shirt was soaked through.

‘Bradley?’

Breathing heavily, he examined your towel-clad form and wet hair.

‘What happened?’

You were lost. ‘What do you mean? Nothing happened, I was taking a bath.’

Bradley ran his hands through his hair, knotting it in his fists. He let his hands rest there momentarily while he caught a breath.

‘I came to see how your day went, and everything was locked. I thought something had happened.’

Now that he knew you were okay, his shoulders sagged, and he was able to offer you an embarrassment-tinged smile.

‘I thought something had happened,’ he explained. ‘When you weren’t on base, I thought maybe you’d run into Viper, and he’d upset you. I don’t know. Guess I just panicked.’

You were simultaneously warmed and humiliated by Bradley’s thinking that something had happened and that it was his responsibility to come and fix things. It was like you couldn’t take care of yourself. You appreciated it, and at first, it was nice, but it was beginning to make you feel sheepish.

You crossed your arms, which only drew attention to your very naked form. You felt your face warm, then your neck, then your chest. Paired with being treated like a child, it was a level of embarrassment you’d never had the misfortune of experiencing before.

‘I can take care of myself.’ You murmured, unable to meet Bradley’s eye.

He exhaled sharply. ‘I know you can, Y/N. Doesn’t stop me from worrying, though.’

Tentatively, you peeked at him from beneath your eyelashes. His gaze was locked onto your face in an attempt to stop himself from looking elsewhere. Bradley Bradshaw—ever the gentleman.

You cleared your throat. ‘I can’t express how grateful I am for everyone taking care of me. Especially you, Roo. But I’d like it if you’d stop treating me like I’m going to break. I’m not that fragile.’

‘Oh, I know you’re not fragile, sweet girl. I just care about you so much.’

You couldn’t help but smile. ‘I care about you too.’

‘I can’t explain it. It’s not that I think you’re a flight risk,’ he smirked at his pun. ‘I just like taking care of you. I like knowing you’re safe and happy, and I like knowing that it’s because of me.’

You didn’t know which way to take this. It was a hard thing to hear for a few different reasons. For one, you weren’t used to hearing things like this from the men in your life, weren’t used to them wanting to take care of you. For two, it was coming from Bradley—one of your long-time best friends—and friendly wasn’t precisely the word you’d use to describe his tone. For three, you were standing in your apartment doorway in a towel with bubbles stuck to your legs, dripping water all over the floor.

You couldn’t help the little laugh that escaped you, but Bradley wasn’t inside your head, so it seemed like you were laughing at his confession.

You apologised. ‘My brain is on overload right now,’ you explained. ‘And I don’t think this is a conversation we should have in the doorway while I’m in a towel.’

Bradley looked you up and down; although it was brief, you couldn’t ignore the hunger hidden behind it. It would have been easy to miss had you not been so well attuned to his mannerisms. Another addition to the list of things to be confused about.

‘Yeah, I should leave you to it. We can talk some other time, when you’re fully clothed.’ He smirked.

Your blush deepened. ‘You gonna be at The Hard Deck tomorrow night?’

‘Is the sky blue?’

You chuckled. ‘Tomorrow it is, then.’

When Bradley got back to his apartment, he had no idea what to do with himself. He was sweating, covered in jet fuel and overthinking every word he’d just said to you, so the only option was an ice-cold shower. As he stood underneath the cool spray, he tried to imagine a world where things were simple. A world where you’d never met Elijah, never had your heart broken, and your whole perspective on love shattered. In this world, he wouldn’t have to wait for you to heal because it would have been him all along, and you’d never have gotten hurt.

But you were hurt, and it had never been him. Judging by the way you’d laughed after his semi-confession, it might never be him, and this was harder to swallow than one of Penny’s homemade shots.

He took his time in the shower, but all the cold water in the world couldn’t wash away the memory of you standing there in your fluffy white towel. This image was more powerful than everything else, and he was ashamed. It was more powerful than his anxiety over you not feeling the same, more powerful than the fear of losing your friendship.

It wasn’t that he cared more about the thought of seeing you naked than getting turned down, or maybe not having you in his life anymore. It was more that his nerves were frayed after a really hard day at work, and he simply didn’t have the energy to dissect hidden truths and map out possible outcomes. His exhausted brain found it easier to latch onto the more simple thoughts and imagined scenarios, like coming home to you after a hard day, and having you take care of him in all the ways. Or sharing that bath with you and wrapping you in that towel with his own two hands before leading you to the bedroom and unwrapping it again.

Pleasure and anticipation unfurled in his abdomen at the mere thought of your naked body beneath his. He didn’t need to experience it to know that skin-on-skin with you would be like finding out that heaven did exist and that it was a place on Earth. Or rather, a person. He tipped his head back and let it rest against the shower wall, and when he reached down to take his dick in his hands, the satisfaction transcended the guilt.

It was only your name in his mind, repeating over and over like some kind of mantra.

Y/N. Y/N. Y/N.

It was the kind of news that felt like a swift kick to the gut.

Out of the entire Dagger Squad, Jake wasn’t your closest friend. You didn’t share deep secrets or have any inside jokes, and he wasn’t the first person you went to when you needed help or a cinema date. But he was still your friend, and you would miss him.

Eighteen months abroad on some secret mission was a long time, especially when it was just him out of his entire squadron. You weren’t a fighter pilot, but you’d been sent away before as your skillset was rare amongst navy engineers. The six-month stint you did at sea was the scariest experience you’d ever had; nothing had topped it yet, and you highly doubted anything ever would. Eighteen months was inconceivable to you.

Jake had known that he was going away for quite some time, but he hadn’t told anyone until two days before. He said he didn’t want his last few weeks Stateside to be ruined by everyone coddling him—he just wanted it to be normal. You could hardly blame him for that, but it made his news much harder to digest. You’d only found out about the mission earlier on that day, yet here you were getting ready to go to The Hard Deck for his leaving drinks.

Natasha sat cross-legged on your double bed with her makeup bag in her lap and your hand mirror in front of her face. You sat on the carpet in front of your full-length mirror, where you always did your makeup. An 80s song you hadn’t heard in years played through your Bluetooth speaker, and you hummed along contentedly.

‘What dress do you think I should wear?’ You asked.

‘What are the options?’

‘Either the new yellow one—with the corset top—or the white one.’

‘The one that looks like Marilyn Monroe’s dress?’

You smiled. ‘Yeah, I guess it does.’

Natasha didn’t wear much makeup, nor did you, so you were nearly finished. ‘I think the white one. Save the yellow one for a special occasion.’

‘You don’t think Hangman leaving for eighteen months is a special occasion?’

Natasha snorted. ‘No. I don’t think Bagman leaving for eighteen months is a special occasion. That yellow dress is for a first date or a wedding reception. He’d get the wrong idea and—’

Nat cut her sentence in half. Suddenly, she was extremely focused on applying mascara to an eye she’d already finished.

‘And what, Natasha.’

She ignored you.

‘Natasha Trace.’

‘What?’

‘And?’

‘Oh, I just mean it might give everybody the wrong impression. You getting so dolled up

on a night that’s all about Jake. Especially now that you’re back on the market.’

‘I am not back on the market. I’m healing.’

‘Yeah, right. You just need to grow a moustache, and I can start callin’ you Rooster.’

You launched your lip gloss at her, and she ducked, howling with laughter.

‘Hey, don’t bring Roo into this. He’s just very emotionally mature! It’s a good thing.’

‘Emotionally, maybe. But what about everything else?’

You knew it was a lighthearted jest, but you were still stuck on the other part. Did she mean that everyone would get the wrong impression, or was she worried about a certain someone? You hadn’t seen Bradley since he showed up at your door unannounced yesterday. He’d said…what, exactly? Not a great deal. Just that he liked taking care of you, liked knowing that he was the cause of your happiness.

What was a girl to make of that?

‘We’ve gotta be there in twenty minutes,’ Nat said, pulling you from your thoughts. ‘Best get that dress on, Marilyn.’

‘She’s not here yet, man. You’re gonna get a crick in your neck if you keep turning round to look at the doors.’

Bradley rolled his eyes in Jake’s general direction. He didn’t want to make eye contact because he knew he’d be met with that world-famous shit-eating grin. It was bad enough that he was pining after you, he didn’t need Hangman—of all people—giving him shit for it. After last night’s activities, he was all too aware of how pathetic he was.

‘On a serious note,’ Jake continued. ‘What’s the deal with you two?’

‘There is no deal.’ Bradley replied. Because there wasn’t.

‘Oh come on, you think I came off the back of yesterday’s milk truck or somethin’? You better not be about to tell me that you’re just friends.’

‘We are just friends. There’s nothing else to it.’

‘But you want there to be.’ This was a statement, not a question.

‘It doesn’t matter what I want. She’s still getting over Viper.’

‘That clown. He’s so crooked, he could swallow a nail and spit up a damn corkscrew. I’m still pissed I didn’t get to run into him before my deployment. I’d have given him two matching shiners.’

Bradley had to smirk at this. ‘I think that’d add to what he’s already got going on.’

‘He’s got nothing going on. He’s the ugliest son of a bitch I’ve ever seen, and I’m sittin’ in front of you.’

‘You really can’t give it a rest, even if it’s your last night, huh?’

Jake winked. ‘You should know me by now, Rooster.’

Bradley sipped his beer. It was nearly empty, but he didn’t feel like pushing his way through the masses to get to the bar. Mainly because he was waiting for you to arrive so he could buy you a drink, too.

‘All I’m saying,’ Jake said. ‘Is that when I get home and open my front door, I want there to be a wedding invitation waiting for me.’

Bradley’s heart constricted. It wasn’t that he’d never thought of your name, his and marriage in the same sentence, it was just that he’d never said or heard it said out loud before. It was like Jake had just come up behind him and ripped his stool out from underneath his ass.

He was lost in thought, imagining you in a white gown walking down the aisle, when Jake suddenly wolf-whistled. Bradley’s head snapped up, and he followed Jake’s line of sight to the front doors. You were arm in arm with Natasha, and although Bradley wasn’t sure he believed in God, something out there must have been listening to his thoughts.

It wasn’t a wedding gown, but it was the prettiest little white dress he’d ever seen. Your hair was done all curly, and a pretty white bow was clipped in the back to keep the top half out of your eyes. Bradley’s eyes must have been bulging out of his head because Jake elbowed him sharply in the ribs.

‘Anybody ever tell you it’s rude to stare at a lady?’

He flushed from embarrassment and something else. The same something had taken over his body in the shower the previous night.

When you and Nat got to the table, he did his best to organise his facial features into something that resembled composure.

‘Ladies,’ Jake bowed dramatically. ‘You both look gorgeous.’

Natasha squinted at him as though she was waiting for the catch. The catch never came, so at least Hangman was being nice to someone on his last night.

You hugged Jake, but as quick as the flames of jealousy licked at his insides, they were put out. You looped your arms around his neck (obviously standing on tiptoes) and pressed yourself against him. He brought his arms up and wrapped them around your lower back, pushing you even closer. It was all warmth and skin and the strawberries in your shampoo, and he wanted more.

More. More. More.

Jake cleared his throat, and just like that, it was over. He missed the contact already, but not for long. The next thing he knew, you took his hand and led him towards the bar, Jake and Natasha following closely behind.

What had he done to get so lucky tonight?

The vibes at The Hard Deck were always lively. If pure, unadulterated joy had a physical form, it would be this bar on a Friday night with all your closest friends. Despite the sad and somewhat scary occasion, you were there to mark, it was still one of the best nights you’d ever had. There’d been good food, homemade cocktails, round after round of Penny’s special shots (that she wouldn’t reveal the contents of) and your favourite songs on the Jukebox. It was hard to tell if they were your favourite songs because they stood out to you or because you were listening to them here, surrounded by these specific people on this night.

You and Mickey were belting the lyrics of Africa by Toto when Bradley reached around and yanked the jukebox cord out of the wall rather unceremoniously.

‘Hey!’ You yelled.

‘Sorry, sweetheart,’ he grinned. ‘I’m gonna play some real music.’

You were about to argue that Toto was real music when the meaning of his statement dawned on you.

He was getting behind the piano.

Since you’d disappeared from the face of the Earth for a while, you hadn’t experienced one of Bradley’s performances for a long time. Few things were more enjoyable than seeing him perform. Your whole body tingled with anticipation, as it did when you were about to drop on a giant rollercoaster or the first time you’d gone up in a jet.

He was watching you expectantly, and you realised he’d just asked you something.

‘What did you say?’

‘I said, do you wanna sit with me at the piano?’

Your heart soared. Nobody ever sat with him at the piano.

‘Really?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Yes!’

He was chuckling as you followed him to the piano, and you wouldn’t have been able to wipe the smile off your face if you tried.

Mostly everyone drinking at The Hard Deck that night knew what was coming and had swarmed around the piano to await his presence. You were both pretty drunk and when Bradley sat on the bench and pulled you into his lap, you didn’t think anything of it. Had the two of you been sober, he probably wouldn’t have done it, and if he did, you wouldn’t have let him. Because friends don’t do that, and it would have been weird.

Luckily, nobody in the bar was anything close to sober.

‘I’m trying something new tonight.’ He announced. Then quietly—so only you could hear him—he said: ‘It’s for you, doll.’

You had the perfect view of his hands and watched, mesmerised, as his fingers danced along the black and ivory keys. He played with the effortless grace of somebody who had music in their veins and could do it with their eyes closed. You’d heard enough about Goose to know that this particular gift came from him.

When he started singing—

Well. That was a whole other story.

There's a little moonlight dancing on the sand There's a warm breeze blowing by the ocean as you're taking my hand. You need to know where I'm standing now. That I'm right on the edge of giving in to ya Baby it's a long way down.

His raspy voice was like some kind of drug to you. The second he started singing, you were transported from the room to someplace closer to heaven. And it wasn’t just his voice; it was the lyrics. You listened more closely than usual since he’d told you this song was yours.

If I fall, can you let me down easy?

If I leave my heart with you tonight Will you promise me that you're gonna treat it right? I'm barely hangin' on If I fall, can you let me down easy?

The scent of your perfume floatin' in the air You're looking like an angel lying on a blanket with a halo of hair And those lips look too good to be true.

Once I taste that kiss, I know what'll happen I'll be at the mercy of you If I fall, can you let me down easy? If I leave my heart with you tonight Will you promise me that you're gonna treat it right? I'm barely hangin' on If I fall, can you let me down easy?

When the song ended, the whole bar erupted into cheers. He didn’t give them a chance to disperse, though. He launched straight into the crowd favourite: Great Balls of Fire. It used to be your favourite, too, but now. Everyone was dancing and singing along. His legs bounced as he played, and you giggled like a maniac, getting jostled about whenever he moved. You wanted to go and sit somewhere quiet so you could digest the previous moment, but you were too wrapped up in this one.

Everyone begged for an encore once he’d finished playing, but he told everyone he was desperate for another drink but might play something else later. You were still planted firmly in his lap, and you locked eyes with Nat from over the top of the piano. She raised a brow, and you gave her the universal ‘I don’t fucking know what’s going on either’ look. The crowd started trickling outside or to the bar. Somebody plugged the jukebox back in, and Africa resumed, although it didn’t sound as good as before. All you wanted to listen to now was Bradley’s song for you.

It was time for you to get up, which proved incredibly difficult. Bradley was warm and solid in a comforting way but also in another way that you weren’t quite ready to unpack just yet. You climbed out of his lap and turned around to face him. He was still sitting but had moved to the other side of the stool to face your direction. He gazed up at you with those big, puppy dog eyes, and you realised with a start that if you took one more step, you’d be standing between his legs. You could have rested your hands on his shoulders or the sides of his face. You could have leant down and kissed him.

Because of this, you didn’t know what to say, and this wasn’t good because the ball was most certainly in your court. He’d just said everything he needed to say with that song.

You decided just to be honest with him.

‘I don’t know what to say, Roo.’

‘You don’t have to say anything. I just needed to get that off my chest, and I didn’t know how else to do it.’

‘I will say something,’ you assured him. ‘Just not right this second.’ It was clear that he was trying to hide the dejection he felt. You saw right through the fake smile meant to reassure you, and immediately, you felt as though you’d let him down. Thinking on your feet wasn’t easy when you were drunk, and you might have chosen to do things differently had you been sober. Now probably wasn’t the best time to deal with something like this, but now was all you had. You couldn’t bear letting him go home tonight, thinking you didn’t feel anything towards him.

So you took his hand in yours and tugged his arm. He got up silently, and you led him outside, across the decking and onto the sand. He trailed behind you down to the water, which was starting to come back in after low tide.

Your thought process had been that it might be better to talk out of earshot from the rest of the daggers and that words might come easier if you were somewhere more peaceful. This was, in fact, not the case, and the absence of commotion was only making things awkward. There was nothing to distract you from the longing behind his eyes, nothing to distract him from the way you nervously picked at the skin around your fingers.

It had never been this way with you and Bradley. Way before Elijah—which was beginning to feel like it had happened to someone else and not you—your friendship had been as easy as eggs on a Sunday morning. Thoughts flowed freely during lengthy but never tiring conversations. You didn’t need to guess how he felt and vice versa because both of you always just knew. You had inside jokes for days and more than a few secrets.

Just because you hadn’t grown up together and hadn’t known one another your whole lives didn’t mean you weren’t inseparable. The bond you shared was forged in everlasting fire the day you met at the academy. It was made out of some kind of magic, a rare kind that most people spent their whole lives searching for and never even coming close to.

As you thought about all this, you realised what a fool you’d been to neglect such a bond for somebody like Elijah. But even with all this, you’d never imagined the two of you would be anything more than best friends. When you had something as extraordinary as this, it was hard to fathom risking it when it was already perfect the way it was.

Or so you’d thought.

What if it wasn’t perfect the way it was? What if all those years of friendship were a prequel to something better?

A forever kind of something.

You took a deep breath and trusted that if you spoke your heart, everything would turn out precisely the way it was supposed to. And since you were speaking your heart, you started by saying his name. He’d been looking out over the water, but now he focused his attention back on you. You didn’t think you’d ever spent so many consecutive minutes in his company without him saying anything.

‘I wasted so much time looking for love in the wrong places,’ you started. ‘And when it ended the way I always knew it would—deep down—I listened to you tell me over and over that real love isn’t supposed to feel like that. I listened to you tell me that I deserved better, all while not believing what you were saying.’

It was hard to look at him now. There was so much riding on whatever you chose to say next.

‘What I’m trying to say is, I wasted so much time looking for love and the real meaning of it, when I should have been looking at what was right in front of my face the whole time.’

It wasn’t exactly what you wanted to say. You wished it could’ve been more eloquent—like his song—but this was what you had, and so you gave it to him.

He smiled broadly, and it reached all the way up to his eyes.

Oh, the things you’d have done for that smile.

Part of you was worried that these kinds of revelations would mess with your synchronicity, but you had no need to worry. There was no awkwardness, no clunkiness and no anxiety when he cupped your face in both his hands, and you reached up to loop your arms around his neck. You only felt overwhelming joy and an innate sense of rightness when your lips met in the most passionate of kisses. And when he tilted your head back further and parted your lips with his tongue, you were able to revisit that feeling you’d felt when he pulled you into his lap not half an hour before. It wasn’t something you could tame, and you highly doubted he could, either, though you could tell he was going to give it his best shot.

You just couldn’t imagine this getting old or wearing thin. If you and Bradley really were a forever thing, you knew that being with him would always feel as exciting and enticing as it did right now. You let one hand snake down his side, resting just above his hip. When you pulled his body closer so it was pressing against yours, he groaned into your mouth. You could’ve sworn you’d blacked out for a second.

‘Slow down, doll.’ He said between kisses.

‘Why?’

He pushed you away ever so slightly, and you pouted.

‘Because I wanna do this properly. I want to take you out for dinner, drinks, dancing, all of it. You can’t rush something you want to last forever.’

Ah. So he was thinking the same thing as you, then.

‘What if I’m impatient?’

‘Then I’ll take you to dinner now.'

He was making light, but you decided to indulge him. ‘Take me, then.’

Bradley laughed. ‘It’s almost midnight, sweet girl. We won’t get a table anywhere now.’

‘So take me to In-N-Out. And then take me home.’

His eyes were all pupil, and you knew that now you’d put the thought into his head it would be impossible to take it back out.

‘You’re terrible.’

‘It’s not my fault!’ You protested. ‘You’re standing there looking all delicious, kissing me like that!’

‘If I agree, you have to promise me one thing.’

‘Anything.’

‘At some point next week, you’ll get dressed up. You’ll let me take you to a fancy restaurant with overpriced cocktails and tiny portions, and then you’ll let me drive you home. When we get to your front door, you’ll let me kiss you goodnight, and then you’ll let me go home. We have to do it in a civilised manner at least once.’

You laughed. ‘Okay, fine. If you insist.’

‘I do.’

You kissed him again, and it felt like coming home after being away forever.

‘You know something, Bradley?’ You murmured. ‘I never knew heartbreak could feel so good.’

A/N: I planned on ending this series here, but now that the final part is complete, I've realised I have many more ideas for where this can go. Maybe some sequels or a whole other series off the back of it. If you'd be interested, let me know and I can tag you in future parts.

Taglist: primroseluna eloquentdreamer sgt-barnesveins daybleedsintonightfa11@sadgirlgiselle @sleepy-writersblock @lovelyygirl8 @my-therapist-hates-me

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levisjinchuriki · 1 month

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forever yours - chapter 2

summary: satoru expresses his deep regret and desire to fix things, revealing his struggle with the thought of you moving on.

warning: more angst

word count: 2.9k

“you need to get out more” mei mei scolds over the phone. she, along with a dozen of your closest friends, has tried her best to get you back into the dating scene. your heart knew you weren’t ready for that big of a step, so you declined every time. you know their intentions are pure, and you appreciate it, but it doesn’t feel right.

“i’m not ready” you sigh. it was still too early for you to think about the possibility of falling for someone again. you still had to move on from gojo, and even that was proving itself to be difficult.

“i’m not saying you have to marry the guy”, she laughs. mei mei had taken the liberty of setting you up with someone in the corporate office. she claimed he was nice, handsome, rich– the only quality she really cared about. it was only wednesday, meaning you still had a few days to back out.

“just go out, let him pay for your dinner, maybe have some fun after…” she suggests teasingly. you groan at the suggestion.

“you owe it to yourself to have at least one night where you’re not sulking” she continues, her voice softening as she tries to coax you into giving yourself a break, even if just for one evening.

you consider her words, letting them sink in. for the last six months, your life has revolved around taking care of Haru and feeling the heavy, persistent ache of your husband’s absence. each day has been a blur of routines—getting haru ready for school, managing meals, keeping the house in order—while your mind drifts to thoughts of what once was and what could have been.

nights are the hardest, the loneliness settling in as you replay old memories, wondering how things went so wrong. the vibrant parts of you, the ones that used to laugh, dream, and hope, have slowly dimmed, replaced by the overwhelming responsibility of being a single parent and the lingering pain of a love that didn’t last.

mei mei’s suggestion– although daunting– feels like a lifeline, a chance to reconnect with a piece of yourself that you’ve buried under the weight of loss and routine. but even as you consider it, a part of you hesitates, clinging to the familiar pain, unsure if you’re ready to let it go and take a step toward moving on.

“what’s the worst that can happen?” she asks, her tone playful. the question catches you off guard, and despite yourself, you laugh. there’s plenty that could go wrong—a bad date, awkward conversations, the possibility of feeling even more alone afterward—but all those things would pale in comparison to the hurt you’ve already endured.

you glance over at haru, who’s peacefully coloring on the floor in the living room, his little face focused and content. the sight of him, so innocent and untouched by the turmoil you’ve experienced tugs at your heart. he deserves a mother who isn’t weighed down by the past, someone who can find happiness again, even if it’s just a glimmer.

hesitantly, you agree to her offer.

“alright, fine,” the words slip out before you can second-guess them. you sigh deeply, rubbing your eyes in disbelief, as if trying to convince yourself that you’re really going to go through with this. the thought of putting yourself out there again feels surreal, a mix of anxiety and reluctant anticipation bubbling up inside you. hopefully this small step is what you need to start finding yourself again.

–

saturday approaches quickly. with haru at his dad’s for the weekend you're left alone with your thoughts, and the immense anxiety brewing within you. it’s been so long since you’ve done something like this, and the uncertainty gnaws at you, making you question if you’re really ready.

as the afternoon turns into evening, you reluctantly begin to get ready. as you slip into your dress the weight of the evening ahead presses down on you. you take a deep breath, forcing yourself to push through the nerves. you fight the urge to cancel at the last minute. one call, one text, and you could be free of this anxiety. but then you think of mei mei, of haru, and of the part of yourself that you’ve neglected for too long. you’ve survived worse; surely, you can survive one date.

you check your reflection once more, trying to see the person you used to be—the one who wasn’t afraid of new experiences, who could step into the unknown with confidence. it reflects a version of yourself that feels both familiar and distant.

as you head towards your destination, your thoughts swirl in a chaotic mix of hope, fear, and uncertainty. you wonder what ryo– your date for the evening– will be like, whether the conversation will flow or falter, and if you’ll even be able to enjoy yourself.

the restaurant is a cozy little spot downtown, and your date seems kind, attentive, and easy to talk to. mei mei was right– ryo is undeniably handsome. his dark, neatly styled hair complements his sharp features and his eyes are warm and kind as he greets you. he’s everything you should be looking for: stable, charming, and uncomplicated.

throughout the evening, ryo displays the manners of a true gentleman—holding doors open, making thoughtful conversation, and showing genuine interest in your conversation. his polite laughter and attentiveness make you feel valued, and his gestures are considerate, ensuring you’re comfortable and enjoying yourself.

despite all this, you can’t help but draw comparisons between him and gojo. ryo’s qualities are admirable, but they are different from what you were used to, making the evening feel like a bittersweet reminder of the intensity you once had in your life. his charm and politeness stand in stark contrast to gojo’s more magnetic, sometimes overwhelming presence. gojo’s eyes, with their piercing, electrifying blue, had a way of making you feel seen in a way that ryo’s gentle gaze doesn’t quite match. the confident, almost reckless allure of gojo’s personality—his playfulness, his intensity—seems to linger in your mind, making ryo’s more restrained demeanor feel somewhat subdued in comparison.

as the night winds down, ryo walks you to your car with a respectful and gentle demeanor, making sure you’re safe and comfortable. he smiles kindly as he expresses hope for another date. he doesn’t try to kiss you, which you appreciate. you’re not sure how you would have reacted if he had.

—-

meanwhile, haru was enjoying his weekend with his dad. he was his usual energetic self, bouncing from one activity to the next, filling the apartment with his bright laughter. satoru found himself reveling in the moments of pure joy, grateful that he had the time with his son.

when they both settle on the couch after dinner, gojo turns on haru’s favorite movie, knowing he’ll fall asleep soon.

“daddy” haru began, his voice muffled as he snuggles closer under the blanket they’re sharing. gojo hums.

“do you think mommy is having fun on her date?”. the question hangs in the air, freezing satoru in place. he turns to haru, trying to keep his expression neutral even though his mind is racing.

“what date?” he asks as calmly as he can manage. haru looks up at him, blinking innocently. he doesn’t even realize he’s sold you out. gojo isn’t entirely sure if he comprehends what a date between adults means.

“the one she was talking about on the phone” he answers honestly. satoru feels his heart drop. he wasn’t aware that you had started to move on. it was always a possibility–being that you two were no longer together, but the thought still made his stomach turn.

he wonders if you’ve already found someone else and questions if haru has already been introduced to the man that could potentially replace him. despite all that, he remains calm on the outside, forcing a smile.

“oh, i see. i’m sure we can ask her about it tomorrow” gojo offers.

haru seems satisfied with that response, snuggling back down under the blanket, oblivious to the internal battle raging within his father. gojo watches his son for a moment, the weight of the situation settling heavily on him. it’s real, and it’s a bitter pill to swallow.

—

gojo’s figure stands tall in your doorway as he drops off haru. he’s dressed casually in a plain black shirt and jeans, his white hair tousled as always. he carries an easy confidence that makes your heart skip a beat, even now.

you greet haru with a hug and a kiss on the cheek before setting him down so he can go play. he’s quick to run to the living room where you’ve already laid out his toys for him.

“hey,” gojo greets as he comes inside to set haru’s bags down.

“hey,” you reply, trying to keep your tone neutral. “how was the weekend?”.

“great”. there’s a casualness in his demeanor, but you can hear the tension beneath his tone.

you nod, stepping into the kitchen to prepare a snack for haru to distract you from the awkwardness. gojo follows close behind, he leans against the counter as his eyes quietly observe your every move. you can feel his gaze lingering on you, and it makes the air in the room feel heavier. he’s always had a way of looking at you that made you feel like you were the only person in the world, but today, there’s something different.

“how was your date?” gojo blurts out. his voice lacks malice, but you’re aware he’s not genuinely interested in the details.

your heart skips a beat. mei mei isn't the type to tell gojo about your date, being they’re not close. and you’re certain ryo doesn’t know gojo personally. professionally, sure, but not to the point of the two men engaging in casual conversation for something like that to be brought up.

“seems we have a little spy on our hands” he replies in amusement. you look down, feeling caught. you were sure haru was preoccupied with coloring during your conversation the other night. even if he did overhear you, you hadn’t expected him to repeat the information, especially not to his dad.

“it wasn’t anything serious” you admit, feeling a wave of guilt wash over you, though you can’t quite place why. maybe it’s the unspoken tension between you, or the fact that even though you’re no longer together and discussing your personal life with him feels strangely intimate, almost like a betrayal of the past you shared. or maybe it’s because you knew you weren’t ready to put yourself out there in the first place.

gojo doesn’t respond immediately. instead, he watches you, his expression unreadable. the silence between you stretches out, filled with all the things neither of you are willing to say. his eyes betray a flicker of something deeper—disappointment, perhaps, or maybe even hurt.

“you don’t owe me an explanation. we’re… separated, and you have every right to see other people”. his words catch you off guard. you look at him with furrowed brows, not expecting that sort of answer. you thought for sure he’d be mad. instead, he stands before you with an expression that’s almost too calm, too accepting. there’s no bitterness in his voice, no trace of the jealousy you were bracing for. in its place is a sadness in his eyes that tugs at something deep within you.

“but I’d be lying if I said it didn’t bother me.” he admits. the confession hangs between you, raw and unguarded. it’s a glimpse into his vulnerability, a side of him that’s rarely seen. you’re struck by the honesty of his words, and the impact they have on you is immediate. the realization that he’s still affected by your decisions, that there’s a part of him that’s struggling with the separation, hits you hard.

you look away, certain that your resolve will break under his gaze.

“satoru, we both knew this was going to happen eventually. we’re trying to move on with our lives”. you’re not sure if you’re trying to remind him or convince yourself. maybe a bit of both.

he steps closer, his presence enveloping you in that overwhelming, familiar way that makes it hard to breathe.

“i don’t want to move on from you,” he says, his voice low and almost desperate. “i don’t want to think about you with someone else”. you can feel the intensity of his gaze. the rawness in his voice shakes you. the distance you’ve been trying to maintain suddenly feels fragile. he’s the only man in the world who has the power to break you like this, to make you question the choices you’ve made and the path you’re on. his emotions pierce through the defenses you’ve built, leaving you grappling with the enormity of the feelings you still have for him.

your breath catches in your throat. this was what you’ve feared—what you’ve tried so hard to avoid. falling back into him.

“satoru, we can’t” you say, the words coming out more pleading than you intend.

“i know,” he replies, stepping closer to you. this is closer than you’ve been in a long time. “but i can’t just let you go. thinking of you with someone else—it’s killing me.”. gojo takes your hand, running his thumb along your ring finger—now bare. the simple gesture feels heavy with meaning, a reminder of the life and love you once shared. it feels like so long ago now.

his admission is raw, and the pain in his eyes mirrors the turmoil inside you. the gentle touch of his hand, the sincerity in his voice, makes it hard to maintain your emotions. you want to be strong, to keep the walls you’d built firmly in place, but he always had a way of dismantling them with just a few words.

“we tried to make it work before and look where we are now. we can’t keep living in the past” you whisper, feeling tears prick at the corners of your eyes.

gojo shakes his head, stepping even closer. his gaze is intense, a mix of regret and determination. if he’s honest with himself, he knows he didn’t put in the effort to mend the relationship as much as he should have. he was always so consumed by work, pushing you to the side until it became unbearable for you. the realization that he neglected you has weighed heavily on him the last six months.

he understands that he might not deserve another chance or your trust, but he’ll try his hardest to prove otherwise. he wants to be a family again. he didn’t fully appreciate what he had until it was gone, taken away by his own doing. the realization hits him hard: he had taken the stability and love of his family for granted, and now he’s left with the painful understanding of how much he truly values it.

“i’m willing to do whatever it takes. just… don’t give up on us”.

you feel a whirlwind of emotions. there’s a deep ache in your chest, a painful tug of longing that his presence and words stir within you. the vulnerability in his eyes and the sincerity of his voice pull your heart, making it difficult to ignore the love that still lingers.

at the same time, there’s an intense level of fear. the weight of the past hurts and the uncertainty of whether things can truly change makes you hesitant and guarded.

“satoru…” you’re not sure what to say. it was a big request and involved so many risks. too many to just blindly agree to.

a tear slips down your cheek. gojo’s gaze remains steady, his eyes filled with a mixture of anxiety and tenderness. he reaches out to cup your cheek, gently wiping away the tear with the pad of his thumb. you have to resist the natural urge to lean into his touch. it’s bittersweet being held by him.

“i don’t want to lose you” he murmurs. “i can’t lose you”. the desperation in his voice breaks your heart and makes it hard to stay indifferent. his eyes, shimmering with unspoken pain and hope, seem to reach into your soul.

“there’s so much to talk about” you manage to say, your voice barely above a whisper. “i need time”. the decision wasn’t just about you or satoru. it was about haru, and the life you want to build for him. you had been so determined to move on, to create a safe, stable environment for your son, but maybe there was a way to do that with satoru by your side.

gojo’s expression softens, a mixture of relief and hope crossing his features. he nods slowly, understanding the weight of your request. he’s happy you’re at least willing to think it over. it’s a small, but significant victory.

“i’ll wait,” he says, his voice gentle but firm. “i'll give you all the time you need”.

the words hang between you, a promise wrapped in vulnerability and patience. you nod, grateful for his understanding yet overwhelmed by the enormity of the decision before you. the weight of the past six months, the effort to create a stable life for haru, and the complexities of your relationship with satoru all swirl together, creating a storm of emotions that you need to navigate carefully.

the path ahead is uncertain, filled with potential for both joy and heartache. but for now, you allow yourself a moment to breathe, to collect your thoughts, and to prepare for the conversations and decisions that lie ahead.

---

ch 3>

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ thank you for reading!! everyone is welcome to leave feedback and requests in my inbox!! please let me know if you want to be added to my taglist! ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

(tagging some people who liked the previous chapter. plz lmk if you want to be removed <3)

@tardis-23 @clearlysworld @sloppynatoppy @shaytoru @concealedeuphoria @svt-backup @padmaaaa @gojosatorumyoneandonly @satoru2716 @eldweiss @luvuyuuji @dark-agate @gojolovrrrr @wysefyre @s-x-m-m-y @jeankirsteinwh3re @funkyotaku7 @um-no-ok @ghostlymilkshakeglitter @domilovestoru @pepperyduck @celestialgojo @smolpotatosstuff @sanriovin @himi009 @yourpalheapass @scgsposts @gojoswaterbottle @sasukun @meforpr3sident

#jjk x reader #jjk au #jjk #jjk smut #jjk gojo #gojo satoru #jujutsu gojo #gojo smut #gojo x reader #gojo saturo #gojo jjk #jjk satoru #gojou satoru x reader #jujutsu satoru #satoru gojo #jujutsu kaisen #gojo #levisjinchuriki #my works

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sohnric · 7 months

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KISS STAINS — E. SOHN

pairing: eric sohn x fem! reader

genre: fluff, situationship to lovers ?? poor eric is a little confused, but he is very much in love.

word count: 1.7k

warnings: the reader is titled as "girlfriend", misunderstanding/miscommunication

a/n: this is a late valentine's day fic because it wouldn't appear in the tags on wednesday and i had to wait to get home to fix it >:( !! thank you @/from-izzy and beloved @/csenke (as always) for beta reading o:)

When the front door to your apartment opens up in front of his eyes to reveal you staring at him in surprise, Eric can’t help but feel a little confused at your expression. You’re wearing a mini dress– one of the black ones that hug your figure just in the right places– makeup adorning your face and making your gaze twice as much magnetizing to the boy through the layer of eyeliner tight-lining your eyes. He suddenly feels a little silly for coming up to your apartment in a casual outfit– as far as he was concerned, neither of you made reservations to go out, though.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, making Eric twice as confused. Still, you let him inside your place, stepping aside from the doorway and watching as he trails after you like a lost puppy, a pouty look playing with his features.

“Well… it’s Valentine’s Day,” he says, as if the reason wasn’t already clear enough before. Scratching the back of his head, he offers you the flowers he’s been holding in one hand, watching as you take them with big eyes that only soften when you bring them up to your nose and breathe in the scent of your favourites. “I thought we were staying in today…?” he asks, pointing at your outfit that’s very obviously meant for going out.

“Oh,” you look at him, tone of voice almost a little ironically surprised as you walk towards your kitchen and take out a vase, pouring water in it and placing the bouquet inside. Eric was too busy with practice to get you any reservations outside, and although he was sure he could sneak you in somewhere in a mediocre restaurant, he was thinking you two could just hang out at your place instead. He liked the idea of cuddling with you in bed much better if he’s being honest. “I’m getting ready to go out, though.”

The sentence catches Eric off guard. He watches as you walk back over to your bathroom and plug in your hair straightener, sectioning your hair into thirds so you can work on your hairdo more efficiently. The boy follows you in, staring at your expression through the mirror. “Why…?”

“Well… You never asked me to be your Valentine, Eric,” you shrug as if the reasoning was the most obvious thing in the world.

The boy instinctively furrows his brows at you, the argument making him a little taken aback. Sure, he never asked– but the only reason was that he thought he didn’t have to. “I assumed that was a given,” he hums, watching as you touch the hair straightener to see if it’s hot enough to use on your hair, “besides, you could’ve asked me to be your Valentine too! This is the 21st century, men don’t have to do everything…”

Your expression morphs into frustration– a clear sign that the fact that Eric didn’t ask you to be his Valentine has been bugging you for quite some time now and he hasn’t noticed until now. It makes the boy feel a little bad. Had he known it was important to you, he would’ve asked you, no big deal. The thing is… he really didn’t think he had to ask in the first place.

“Why did you assume it was a given?” you ask, scoffing.

Eric watches as you run the hair straightener over strands of your hair, yet the usual concentration on your face when you do so leaves your expression and is replaced with a look of irritation. Your eyebrows are furrowed and there’s a wrinkle in between them, rendering the boy speechless. “Because… we are dating…?” he says, eyes staring into yours through the bathroom mirror.

A snicker leaves your throat at his argument. “Correction– we went on a few dates.”

Now, this has Eric Sohn even more speechless than before. He didn’t think there was much difference between dating and going on dates, but now he realises that your mind is perhaps even more complicated than he thought it was before. “So… we aren’t dating?”

The question leaves his mouth before he has a chance to stop it. His mind is swirling around with all the dates you two have been to. It’s been two months since the two of you started dating– well, what he assumed was dating– and never once has he doubted that this is what you two were doing. He took you to the arcade and let you win on a few of the machines. He took you to the amusement park and bought you all the cotton candy your heart desired. You two took photo booth pictures and he keeps the strip in his wallet. He told you he loved you when you went on a late-night walk a few weeks after your first date, and since then, every day at least once. Hell, he even brought you over to his dorms and didn’t dismiss his friends when they started calling you his girlfriend after you left.

Because in his mind, that’s what you were. His girlfriend. Because you two were dating. You did all the things people in relationships do– you hold hands, you kiss, you sleep over at each other’s houses– you are intimate…

Are you two not dating?

“You’ve never asked me to be your girlfriend either,” you shrug, combing your hair before you move to straighten another piece, making the boy fall into a momentary silence.

Has he not? Well, if he really thinks about it, that’s true. He hasn’t asked you to be his girlfriend, because after the shift you two made from being friends to going on dates and being rich in PDA, he thought his intentions were obvious. Somehow, in his lovesick mind, the moment he asked you out on a date was the moment you two started dating– and when you say it like this, it makes perfect, logical sense, doesn’t it?

Obviously, now that he thinks about it, it doesn’t. “Well, I just assumed… is this not exclusive?” he asks, his heart suddenly dropping into his stomach.

“Well, you never asked for that either,” you shrug.

“So that means you are seeing other people?” Eric clarifies, chewing on the inside of his cheek. Never in his life did he need a response to his question to be negative as much as in this moment.

Your eyes meet his in the mirror, something behind your gaze shifting when you notice his distressed expression. Eric recognizes just how anxious he looks in your bathroom mirror, and before you give him a chance to crumble, he hears you chuckle. “I am not. Are you?”

“Well, up until this moment, I thought we were in a serious, committed relationship, so no, Y/N. I am not seeing other people,” he says, an airy laugh escaping his throat.

Staring at each other’s expression in the mirror, Eric watches as you sigh and put the hair straightener down on the sink, turning your body towards his. His eyes go wide as you stare at him with your warm orbs, fondness and tenderness now mirroring your gaze– a big contrast to the stern look you greeted him with upon opening your front door.

To Eric, the progression of your relationship was natural. He took it as it came, admiring the shift from being friends to something more, and never once questioned the direction it was heading. He loved you– of course, he always thought of you as his. To Eric, the love you two share for each other has always been habitual.

He never asked you to be his, because in his mind, he was already yours. It was as obvious as that. No second guessing– he was always sure of what you two had.

“You’ve been telling people that I am your girlfriend?” you ask, voice quiet, tender, yet almost amused– pleased.

“Well, was I wrong?” he hums, locking his eyes with you directly now, laughing.

“We never had the talk.”

“I didn’t think it was necessary,” he says.

Watching you roll your eyes, the misunderstanding now vanishing into thin air– he leans in and presses a kiss to your red lips. When you pull away from him, a soft giggle resonates in the four walls of your bathroom, a finger pointing to his lips. “That looks good on you,” you hum as the boy looks at his reflection in the mirror.

Red lipstick is smeared all over his lips, a messy imprint of your affection. He finds himself smiling at his reflection, a lovesick look warming up his gaze when he looks back at you. “Does it?”

“Yeah,” you hum as you stand on your tippy toes and press another peck to his face– now reaching for his left cheek instead. Eric’s arms come to hold your sides, helping you balance as you press wet kisses all over his face, wherever you can reach. He feels you glaze his other cheekbone, the tip of his nose, his chin, the very middle of his forehead. Two kisses placed on his temples, a hearty giggle escaping your throat when you peck his jaw and the side of his face, only pulling away to admire your masterpiece.

“Just so we are clear,” Eric clears his throat, finally verbalizing the thoughts he’s been keeping to himself– the thoughts he assumed were clear as day and didn’t have to be said out loud or clarified, “will you be my Valentine, then? Or my girlfriend? Both, actually?” he asks, heart leaping out of his chest when you laugh at him and thread your fingers through the hair on his nape.

“Well, I kinda assumed those two go hand in hand, Eric,” you hum to him like a secret, and he can’t help but roll his eyes at your punctuality.

“Is that a yes, then?”

“Let me think about it–” you joke before you burst into a screechy laughter, having Eric’s hands prop below your knees and hoisting you up onto the bathroom sink.

The boy leaves another kiss on your lips before he pulls away and admires your face from up close. Eric Sohn likes pretty things and your face is so far his most favourite. And when he catches his reflection in the mirror– his face full of lipstick kiss stains and a dumb, lovesick look in his eyes– he’s almost happy for all of the confusion.

See, as the hopeless romantic he is, although he hates to admit that he hasn’t been dating you for the past two months like he thought he has been, he doesn’t really hate the idea of your anniversary being on Valentine’s day: the holiday of love.

#deoboyznet #the boyz #eric sohn #sohn youngjae #the boyz fluff #eric sohn fluff #eric sohn x reader #the boyz x reader #the boyz scenario

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bloodmoonmuses · 28 days

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supercut- johnny suh

genre: johnny x reader, childhood friends to ex-best friends to lovers, a little bit of angst and a lotttttt of nostalgia <3

summary: time escapes you and johnny- a supercut of bliss and naivete, all glittery and rosy, morphing and everchanging over the years- until your paths cross once more.

(for @lovesuhng <3)

Seventh Grade.

Johnny Suh. The Boy With the Eye Smile. Or at least that’s how you’re introduced to him by your mother the week before seventh grade. In an effort to not be bogged down by the remnants of summer sloth in your system, you and your mother wake for breakfast despite not needing to do so this early. They’re a bit of a formality, the set plates and cutlery as if it isn’t just the two of you on a Wednesday morning, but it’s sort of sweet you suppose. The sun hasn’t even risen entirely and sleep matter still resides in your eyes.

“You’ve seen him, right? He should be around the same age as you,” your mother asks, taking a bite of her nearly burnt eggs. And you had seen him, Johnny Suh, yesterday. Flying a kite with a few younger boys in the neighborhood, plump cheeks made more prominent from the width of his smile. You remember noting that you didn’t recognize him- you would’ve remembered. He’s a head taller than a majority of the kids, lanky and heart-achingly gentle. How pure, you had thought as you watched him through your kitchen window.

His family just moved to the neighborhood, your mother tells you, and you nod as she recounts such.

“So close to the school year,” you respond in a muffled voice.

“If you see him at school, you should say hi. And don’t speak with food in your mouth, honey.” You swallow the bite of your pancake promptly, anxious for the school year ahead, picturing that poppy red kite fluttering in the sky.

Johnny Suh With the Eye Smile is popular, you discover. And charismatic. And smart. And somehow he’s all of these things on the first day of school (and without being a douchebag). The two of you share a language arts class where your desk is three rows behind him. You quickly become acquainted with the back of his head, burning a hole into it, infatuated with how his hair reminds you of dandelion fluff- the choppy fuzziness of it… the way he sways as though stirred by a summer breeze.

He’s the type of kid that raises his hand in class even when he doesn’t know the answer. He makes everyone laugh (even Olivia Wilson who is known to have a stick up her ass. You conclude she must have a crush on him, as do many other girls). Johnny gives your language arts teacher a high-five on the way out of class. Johnny is cool.

It’s only the first day of school and kids are clamoring to sit next to Johnny in the cafeteria, attempting to wave him over to their respective tables like he’s a local celebrity. But he keeps walking, in his JNCO jeans and Tony Hawk t-shirt, and instead sits next to you: the quiet kid sitting at the back of the cafeteria alone. As he does so, the cacophony of the students’ voices dissipates for just a second, your brain unable to register anything other than Johnny choosing to sit by you of all people.

He sets his bright blue lunch tray on your table, feigning nonchalance.

“Hi,” Johnny says, lips pressed into a pouty line. He opens his carton of chocolate milk.

You acknowledge him with a jut of your chin, an attempt at looking cool, then realize you have to actually speak. “Hey.”

“I’m Johnny.”

“I know.” You say, biting into your sandwich. How couldn’t you?

Johnny nods, immediately cutting to the chase. “Yeah. Uh- I think I saw you-”

As you eat, the sandwich gets lodged in your throat and you cough briefly, caught off guard by Johnny’s bluntness. “Where?” you ask.

“Peeking out the window at me through your blinds… When I was flying that kite.” Right, you think. So he did see you. The eye contact wasn’t a fever dream.

Scanning his decidedly neutral face, you say, “Oh. Sorry,” and Johnny shrugs at you.

“Just wanted to let you know it wasn’t… my kite. I’m too old for that,” he whispers.

So he’s here to protect his street cred’? Hilarious.

“No worries. I think it’s cool.”

“Cool?”

“That you were helping the other boys.”

Johnny pauses, confused that your take on the situation is benign, and you see the faintest blush appear across his face. Maybe there’s more to him than meets the eye. You wonder if you’ll ever see him any more bashful than this.

“Well.. I’ll see ya around?” he asks.

“Sure.”

Then he gets up to attend to his clamoring friends, leaving you in his afterglow.

When the final bell rings, you race out of school in hopes of catching up with Johnny. Finally, you had someone to walk home with, you thought. No need to take the long way to avoid your fear of crossing the street alone.

You’re sure Johnny is fearless.

When you find him, talking in a circle of school boys by the flagpole, you wave meekly across the green. Johnny waves back, walking over to you when the other kids peel out.

“Hi neighbor.” Johnny says.

“Wanna walk home together?” you ask, “I can show you a shortcut.”

“Sounds good.”

And the rest is history, really. It didn’t take much, in hindsight. Kids become friends so easily. In part, due to proximity, but there’s something to be said about the intuition of a middle schooler. A sort of magnetism that sparks up like a struck match. Instant fire that burns hot and fast. That warms you from the inside out. In your chest, then your face, your gut… until it spreads to your fingertips.

Johnny is your neighbor. Then walking buddy. Classmate. Friend. Until one day, you realize he’s your best friend.

Freshman Year.

“-and then Johnny said I should dye a few streaks of my hair red because it would make me look edgy and I could walk to the skatepark with him- the one at the underpass a few blocks away- because I’d look super cool. Like Avril Levigne.” you ramble to your mother in one breath, like the words are involuntarily tumbling out of your mouth. Another summer has come and gone. You’re a little older, slightly wiser, but buoyant with youth. Knees in a perpetual state of bouncing, hormones in a perpetual state of chaos… It’s a week before your freshman year of high-school.

“Would you jump off a cliff if Johnny said you’d look super cool?” your mom asks in jest, feigning the artificial vocal fry you’ve adopted this month (a phase your mother hopes ends soon).

You groan, teenage attitude not completely in check quite yet. “Of course not, Mom.” Well, maybe. If you had a parachute-

Shaking her head, your mother says, “Just saying, that boy is all you talk about these days.”

She calls him “that boy” as if he isn’t at your place almost everyday. The only reason he’s not here now is because his family is on vacation. You make a mental note to text him.

“That’s not true.” It’s mostly true. But he’s your best friend. Aren’t you supposed to talk about them all the time?

Your mother pivots. “How do you feel about starting high-school?”

Contemplating on the question a bit, you shrug. “How should I feel?”

“I don’t know. That’s for you to decide,” she says sweetly, voice lilting with amusement.

“I think I’m excited.” You and Johnny had already put in your requests to have lockers next to one another. With him, you feel like you could brave the world. “Not nervous or anything.”

“Well, that’s good. Why is that?” she presses.

Because I have Johnny, you think.

In the week leading up to your freshman year of highschool begins, you get braces. It hurts like hell, but you manage to get out of bed and meet Johnny at the neighborhood park, like you usually do, when he returns from vacation.

“Did it, like, hurt a lot?” Johnny asks you. You’re holding a bag of ice against your cheek.

The numbing has long since worn off, but the pain couldn’t nearly deter you from seeing Johnny in the flesh- his smile giving you energy just like it did all those years ago. A whole week without him… How you survived, you’re not sure. When your peers wondered why Johnny wasn't around, they went to you first. A known pair, you two, and the thought of such makes your heart swell with pride.

In a slurred fuss, you say, “What do you think, genius?”

“Point taken. I thought I’d ask anyway.”

“Asshole,” you mumble.

Johnny quirks an eyebrow, then says, “Are you, like, gonna be hot after you get your braces off?”

“Johnny, what are you even talking about right now?”

“Like the whole makeover montage in Princess Diaries. You should get contacts too.” You push your glasses up higher on your nose bridge. He’s joking but your chest constricts regardless. Johnny thinks you have the potential to be hot.

“Fuck you,” you say, your own laugh betraying the intended bite of your tone.

Johnny scoffs. “You wish.”

“Ew! Gross.”

“You’re blushing!” Johnny teases, and you jump off the swing in mid-air, giggling as you chase one another around the park like school children.

Junior Year.

Johnny with the Eye Smile is your best friend and you love him, but you kind of hate him right now. Like, you want to punch him in the face and then kiss it better and then punch him again- the kind of hatred that makes your heart beat in your ears. But the hatred is fickle, a weak flame that dissipates as quickly as it flares up, as Johnny recounts his first kiss. He looks so giddy- an emotion you haven’t seen him wear often throughout the course of your friendship.

Time escapes you and, before you know it, your junior year of highschool is coming to a close. Instead of being lost in summer’s wake, you’re confronted with its onslaught- the open-endedness of its impending descent…

You’re actually surprised it’s taken this long for Johnny to muster up the courage to kiss someone. There’s a long list of people you know for a fact would’ve loved to do so. Now, Johnny’s sitting on your bed, staring at the tapestries strewn to your ceiling, your room smelling of lavender and peeled oranges. You’re trying to tune him out, but his nervous hands demand your attention, fiddling fingers dancing across his abdomen like he’s playing the piano. You’ve never seen him like this. Not since the faintest blush graced his cheeks in the cafeteria on the day you met. And over a kite no less. This… this was serious.

Johnny kissed someone. And it wasn’t you.

Johnny tsks. “I didn’t even think Olivia liked me-” he confesses.

“Wait. Olivia Wilson? From middle school? You kissed Olivia Wilson?”

“Why are you saying it like that?” Johnny asks with a furrow of his brow. Unbeknownst to you, you’re mirroring his confused expression.

“Saying it like what?”

He drags his hands over his face, sighing. “Like it’s hard to believe.”

“No, I just meant… Olivia is…” you search for a word. Any word. “-cool.” She’s a blonde cheerleader who’s slated to be the class salutatorian at the very least, valedictorian if she really applies herself. She bakes cookies and keeps them in her car for when she encounters homeless people and tutors for kids free on the weekends.

You hate her.

Your stomach lurches at the thought of her cradling Johnny’s face and you can almost smell her perfume- notes of licorice infiltrating your nostrils while you scrunch your nose.

“Was it good? The kiss, I mean,” you practically wince out.

“I think so,” Johnny says. “We, like, made out for a while. Then I drove her home and she kissed me again.”

“Wow.” What a lame thing to say, you think, but it’s the prevailing word at the front of your brain. Wow, Johnny really likes her. Wow, they’d look really good together. Wow, he kissed someone and it wasn’t you.

“Yeah, wow.”

And you’re not sure what, but something green and molten bubbles up inside of you, uncontrollable and vicious, burning at the apex of your chest. “Well actually,” you start, prompting Johnny to look you in the eye, “I thought I saw her kissing Daniel Choi… the other week. After cheer practice.” A total lie that escapes you for whatever reason. “You know how athletics comes back to school a little earlier to train? I was, like, driving around and saw them, I think.”

His smile drops instantly. He believes you, because why wouldn’t he, and you want to take it all back. You want to say, “It’s a joke!” and hear that belly laugh of his, but the words never leave you. You just… can’t.

It’s junior year, you reason with yourself. Nearly the summer before your senior year. You need him. You need this- whatever this is.

“Wait, really?” Johnny asks.

“She didn’t tell you?” you say, feigning shock. This is awful. You feel awful.

“No…” Johnny grows quiet.

“It’s probably not serious,” you backtrack. “You know Daniel-”

“Whatever. Wanna drive around and listen to music?” Johnny grabs his keys in a rage before you can even answer.

You follow him out of your room wordlessly, a layer of sweat forming on your forehead, feeling relieved that you don’t have to talk about that God forsaken kiss anymore. The smell of licorice fades and instead you bask in Johnny’s musky vanilla.

The illusion of serenity lasts one tortuous week.

“Hey, what the fuck, _______?” Johnny slams your locker shut in lieu of a greeting. The sound sends shockwaves through your body.

The locker in front of which Johnny greets you everyday, eye-smile melting your heart a little more each time you see it. The locker inside which you’ve taped a polaroid of the two of you. The locker you two shared when Johnny forgot a sandwich in his and the stench of mold made it unusable. Your locker.

You lean against it, bracing for impact. Ready to double down. “What’s your problem?”

“My problem? Daniel said he’s never even spoken to Olivia, _______. She was gonna ask me to prom… I yelled at her last week.”

“I must’ve made a mistake, Johnny.”

He fumes, nearly dry heaving as your words hit his ears.

Then, softly, you say, “We can go to prom together.” You pick at the skin on your fingers, averting your gaze to anywhere but Johnny’s face- a tell of yours that Johnny knows all too well. In your periphery, you see he’s bright red.

“Are you seriously lying to me right now?”

“Johnny. You’re my best friend.”

“Yeah. So tell me the truth.”

Your voice is barely about a whisper. “Olivia isn’t even your type…”

“Goodbye, _________,” Johnny says, devoid of any levity or lightness. His eyes are impossibly dark. A part of you thinks he’ll turn around, or meet you on the swingset later that day. And you wait there, keep your bedroom window open and check your phone obsessively, but he never comes.

Johnny goes to Senior prom with Olivia Wilson the following year.

Beyond.

You’re older now, much wiser, and far away from teenagedom. In fact, your teen years are a distant memory, so far removed that only the best parts of them appear in your daydreams- a supercut of bliss and naivete… glittery and rosy.

You’re teleported back to the swingset where you’d talk to Johnny until the moon came out. To the tree under which you saw him fly that poppy red kite. To the porch where you finally had your first kiss after falling out with Johnny.

To the dining table where you’d share pancakes with your mother.

You’re home for the holidays, back in Chicago, and your house smells of cinnamon and vanilla. The nostalgia comes in vicious waves- choppy, foamy and salty. Tear stained cheeks on random afternoons. Then in gentle, comforting ones that lull you to sleep like a lullaby.

Being back in town after graduating college makes your bones feel weird. The way you move around your home now is less intuitive. It’s more like walking through a museum, fingers aching to graze the artifacts of your youth. Photos faded with a thin layer of dust, participation ribbons from Little League, old school uniforms tucked away in boxes.

“Mom!” you call out to her from upstairs, “Do you think I still have my highschool yearbook here?”

��Yes, it’s with my scrapbooking supplies in the craft room.”

You practically bolt there, settling on the floor once you’ve located the blue book, flipping frantically until you find Johnny’s picture.

Your best friend with the fluffy dandelion hair and soft demeanor. His senior photo is slightly faded from how often you used to thumb through the yearbook.

You remember loving him from a distance after that ill-fated day, the abruptness of the friendship’s end too much for you to handle. So you took the scraps. The wayward glances from Johnny, the check-ins from his mom, when he accidentally sent his graduation party invitation in the mail… The two of you co-existed, parallel to one another but never intersecting- in stark contrast to how intertwined you once were. Your chest aches at the memory.

“________, my love, can you come downstairs for a sec?” your mother calls distantly. You close the yearbook solemnly and make your way down. “Can you run to the grocery store for me?” she asks. “We’re out of eggs.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Shrugging on a coat and putting on another pair of socks, you prepare to brave the elements. You decide to take the train, so you can admire the winter wonderland outside. When you don’t think about how much of an inconvenience the snow is, it’s beautiful- the untouched banks on the side of the road, all pristine and crystalline.

The mounds sparkle and crunch beneath you as your trod to the station, which luckily is a quick walk from your place. The city whips past you, a blur of sleek skyscrapers contrasted against graffiti buildings, and you’re at the bodega before you know it.

Quickly, you locate the eggs, placing them in your basket, and scour the little corner store for a few more goodies. As you reach for a box of instant hot cocoa, you feel someone materialize next to you. The stasis of the store would have it seem this city’s a ghost town, though Chicago is far from one, but the person startles you regardless. You jump back a bit, muttering a half-hearted, “Excuse me,” before realizing you know him. There’s no way…

“Oh, sorry-” Johnny comes to the realization at the same time you do, retracting his hand from the box.

Your hand is frozen in space, eyes scanning his form to make sure he’s real. His hair is short with blonde highlights and his glasses are massive, giving him a cartoonish look. His puffer jacket is also massive, all bundled up and pillowy like a marshmallow.

You smile to yourself briefly, before sputtering, “How long has it been?”

Without missing a beat, Johnny says, “Six years.” Has he been counting?

“You look like the Michelin Man with glasses,” you say.

Johnny chortles. “You got your braces off.”

“Am I finally hot?” you joke, “like in Princess Diaries?”

And it’s probably from the cold, but you swear Johnny blushes as he shrugs and says, “Jury’s still out on that one.”

“Here,” you start, getting back to the task at hand, “lemme grab that for you.” You pick up two boxes of the hot cocoa mix and place them in your basket.

“You don’t have to-” Johnny stammers, shaking his head.

“It’s the least I can do.” (-which is probably an understatement.)

The two of you walk to the cash register where you buy both his and your items.

“Is this all you came out for?” you ask Johnny.

“Yeah, I guess so.”

Clearing your throat, you force out your next question, the voice that squeaks out of you sounding foreign. “Where ya heading- if you don’t mind me asking, of course.”

“Nowhere fast. I drove here actually. What about you?”

“Train.”

“Cool…”

Would you jump off a cliff if Johnny said you’d look super cool?

Johnny rocks back and forth on the balls of his feet, waiting for you to break the silence. You oblige him. “Well, it was nice seeing you Johnny. Happy holidays.” you start to walk in the opposite direction, until Johnny says-

“Actually- wanna go to the park?”

—

“This is soooo weird,” you chuckle as you swing back and forth, the nippy air feeling like a thousand cuts on your face. Your nostrils burn with each inhale, and the run-off of slightly melted snow trickles as it moves down the hill.

“Being back here?” Johnny’s voice is close, then distant, then close again, as he swings alongside (and much higher than) you.

“Yeah, it’s like I just stepped into a time machine.” And it’s true- you feel like that kid whispering about the new kid over pancakes. His fingertips are bright red.

“Except you were spying on me from your bedroom window,” Johnny scoffs.

You groan. “I explained a thousand times that I was just-”

“Just because you explain something, it doesn’t make it less creepy! And-”

“-making sure the kite didn’t get stuck in a tree.” you shout over his accusations, cheeks hurting from how hard you’re smiling.

Johnny shakes his head, heaving from his laughter. “Your ‘explanation’ is total bullshit, by the way.”

You sigh. “Guess I’m never living that down.”

When the both of you settle, sitting on the swings instead of kicking back and forth, you take a moment to drink up Johnny’s features. He’s even taller, somehow, lankiness morphed into dashing height. Awkwardness morphed into a charming stride. Eye-smile morphed into a blinding grin.

Your mind is racing. You have so much you want to say to him. So much to ask. Six years… where does the time go?

“You’ll never guess who I had my first kiss with in Ju” you giggle at yourself because, of all things, you can’t believe that’s what you decide on. Regardless, it’s a funny story.

Again, Johnny scoffs. “Daniel Choi, right?”

“Wait, who told you that!?”

“He was bragging about it for three weeks. I nearly punched the guy.”

The two of you weren’t even friends at that point.

“You’re ridiculous!”

More silence falls over you, draping itself densely over your shoulders- stasis from how sheerly overwhelmed you are at the words on the tip of your tongue. You feel Johnny’s anxiety too, it radiating in waves off of him, but it’s not awkward. The two of you wade in the stillness, slight movements yanking on the bars of their metaphorical enclosure. Your sniffling, twitching nose. Fidgeting fingers. Johnny’s bouncing knees and pounding heart.

That is, until the silence is no more- Johnny just barely breaching it by saying, “It should’ve been me. I should’ve kissed you.”

Then he stands before you, grasping the swing chains just above where you’re holding them and effectively envelopes you in his warmth. Johnny’s proximity makes you shudder and you look up at him, eyes as bright as they were when he was younger.

“I could’ve been.” Then, in a hushed voice, you add, “It can be.”

Then, as he grasps your face with his ice cold hands, Johnny places a kiss on the corner of your mouth. You giggle into it, the clunkiness and trepidation, then recapture his lips in a real kiss. This kiss is all encompassing, your entire face ablaze while you deepen it, your lips yearning for and experiencing lost time in a confusing clamoring. You’re practically clawing at Johnny up until the point of you pulling away for air.

Johnny scans your face, smirking at the way you’re panting. “You are kinda hot without the braces,” he says.

“You’re actually the worst.”

And, yet again, he shrugs. “Okay, but you love it though.”

“I guess…”

As you lean in for another kiss, you hear a scream. When you whip your head around, you giggle at the sight:

A kiddo on the other side of the playground flying a poppy red kite in the dead of winter.

a/n: unedited and feedback is always appreciated! <3

#bloodmoonmuses #nct 127 #johnny suh x reader #johnny suh fluff #johnny suh fanfic #nct johnny #nct fic #nct 127 imagines #nct 127 fic #guys we're so back

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clarisse0o · 24 days

Text

Camp Wiegman-Part 55

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternative Universe : Military School

Words : 7k

Masterlist

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Wednesday, February 17; 9:15 AM - Ski Resort

I still find it hard to believe what we're about to do today. The days are passing, and we're already halfway through our trip. Me, a sun-loving girl who's only ever been to beaches, is now discovering a ski resort for the first time. Ever since I heard the news, I've had a lump in my throat. I just can't wrap my head around it.

“Do you think I’ll be able to do it?” Mapi asks me, standing by my side.

I take a deep breath. Thankfully, in the worst scenarios, my best friend is always there to face things with me.

"It’s up to you to feel it. Are you still in a lot of pain?” I ask, referring to her leg.

“It depends on the day... I hope it’ll be okay.”

“Have you talked to Ingrid about it?”

“Yeah, we had a chance to talk. She knows I don’t like to bring it up, but she knows what happened.”

“Then you don’t need to worry. I’m sure she’ll be careful.”

“You think so?”

“Of course,” I say with a smile. “From what I’ve seen these past few days, she seems attentive to you. I have no doubt she’ll know when to stop you if you push too hard.”

“Blah, blah, blah.”

We laugh, fully aware that this is exactly what will happen. Mapi loves challenges, and once she’s conquered them, she tends to not want to stop. I understand her fear, though. Skiing puts a lot of strain on your legs. She’ll likely feel pain at some point, even with the effective treatment she’s been on for years. Skiing... Just thinking about it gives me goosebumps. I’m not at all comfortable with this idea, especially after our last two nights. The waitress Aitana flirted with invited us to some private parties. The first one was quite wild for some, and we got back late. We didn’t want to do much the next day. Most of us stayed at the hotel to relax, while the two other couples and I preferred to head back into town. We went out again last night, but it was much more low-key. The girls didn’t want to waste another day doing nothing. They had used their day at the hotel to look into things to do. The ski resort was their top recommendation. When they suggested it to us, I was the only one not very enthusiastic. I tend to enjoy walking in the snow in different ways, but I realize that’s not everyone’s preference. The girls were starting to lose patience and really wanted to do something more dynamic. This activity was definitely a lot more energetic than the previous ones. The weather was on our side, with the snow having stopped today, so it was the perfect time to plan sledding and skiing. The last time I was in a place like this, I must have been six years old. My mom wasn’t a fan of mountain vacations, being someone who had always lived in the sun. We went once thanks to my dad, who granted my wish. Those were the most memorable holidays for me because it was the first time I ever went sledding. However, I never skied, and the same goes for Mapi, who, unlike me, is seeing snow for the first time after her first visit to Manchester. We were supposed to go sledding this morning, but because of our little handicap, our girlfriends, who are currently ahead of us, decided to change the plan for the four of us. Since Mapi hadn’t changed her behavior, I thought it was a good opportunity for just the two of us. I needed to talk to her. I could sense something was bothering her, and I didn’t like it. I tried sending Alexia in my place, but she couldn’t get much out of her. Either Mapi didn’t understand her intention, or I was really imagining things, which I doubt.

“So, can I ask you a question?” she starts again. “But you won’t take it the wrong way, right?”

“Why would I take it the wrong way?”

“It’s about Lucy.”

The mention catches me off guard. Is she trying to talk about it? The timing couldn’t be better. At least we can clear the air before today’s activities because we both know there’s some tension.

“I’m listening.”

“Promise me you won’t take it the wrong way?” she insists.

“Mapi, we’ve always told each other everything up until now. Why would you be afraid of my reaction?”

She sighs, letting her shoulders relax. Her behavior towards me over the past two days remains a mystery. The way she kept pulling me away from Lucy left me puzzled and annoyed. I started wondering if she had a problem with her, and now I’m starting to believe it more and more. I hope it’s nothing serious. I don’t particularly want them to stop talking, or worse, have to choose between the two.

“So why didn’t you come talk to me yourself? You sent Alexia, didn’t you? I’m not that clueless.”

I bite my lip, caught off guard. Alexia had warned me that it would be better if I went myself, but I didn’t listen. Now, I’m already regretting that bad decision.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have, you’re right.”

“So, you really sent her?”

“I could tell you were on edge. I was afraid it would get worse if I came first.”

We look at each other for a moment, then laugh together. We both feel a bit silly, I think. There’s good reason for it. We’ve never been afraid to tell each other things. That’s what I’ve always loved about Mapi. Even if we knew it wouldn’t please the other, we’ve always been honest.

“Sorry, I was really nervous about bringing it up.”

“You didn’t need to be,” I sigh. “So... it’s about Lucy, right?”

“Yeah, um...” she starts, suddenly feeling awkward. “I don’t really know how to say this. First, does she still hold a grudge against me?”

“What?” I frown. “No! Why would she have something against you?”

I look at my girlfriend who’s ahead of us with Ingrid. We’ve slowed down our walk since we started talking, creating a bigger gap than before. They’re both in an animated conversation, laughing from time to time. I think about all the ways Lucy could have made her think that, but nothing comes to mind. She did give her a bit of a hard look the day she pulled me away from her during the walk, but that passed quickly when she found it amusing that I was angrier than she was. Anyway, since we’ve been together, it’s different. She no longer sees Mapi as a threat, but simply as someone very important to me.

“Well, I don’t know... I felt like she was giving me dirty looks last time. Sorry, I might be imagining things.”

“Lucy has no problem with you, I assure you. She really likes you and knows what you mean to me. If it were otherwise, she would have told me, and I would have fixed things.”

“Okay...” she murmurs. “You love her, don’t you? I’ve never seen you so attached to someone like her.”

I breathe softly. Oh yes, I love her, and I spend all my time glued to her. I was never that person before, but she made me this way. In none of my previous relationships did I seek physical contact as I do now.

“Does it bother you?”

She looks at me for a moment. I can see the internal struggle she’s having. She doesn’t know how to respond, and it’s all the more unsettling. I give her a friendly nudge.

“Come on, spill it. We’re talking about it for a reason, after all.”

“I was very surprised,” she begins. “I think your Valentine’s Day made me jealous. Not romantically. Ingrid is wonderful to me, and I appreciate her more and more each day,” she quickly justifies. “But in terms of us, our relationship, our friendship...”

Now that she says it, it’s true that after I shared everything we did, her behavior changed. I frown at this realization. Without saying anything, she continues.

“I never knew how to give you the same things she does. Just look at the day you spent together. It’s obvious she thought of you first in her plans. I’ve never been able to do that for you. Not even for a day.”

“Mapi—”

“I know our relationship is different from yours. It was powerful in another way, and it was during another period. We were younger and a bit more carefree. But what she’s done with you in just a few months is just... impressive. She’s transformed you, and I feel lousy for not being able to give you the same support and help you grow like she has.”

Regret, remorse. That’s all I hear in her words, and now it’s my turn to feel bad. How did she get to the point of feeling so worthless? She doesn’t even realize how much she’s helped me. Her return after Feli sparked a lot of progress that she doesn’t seem to have noticed. I release my lip from between my teeth and reply without thinking.

“You have nothing to blame yourself for. You’re the one who gave me the most support before I joined this school. You did the hardest part by getting me out of my room.”

I smile just remembering it. She had to drag me, but she did it, and she stayed with me the whole time. It was her, and no one else, who accomplished that feat.

"I have to admit, being away from my problems was the best idea my mom ever had. You’ve never set foot in my school, but we all have our problems, often similar, sometimes completely different."

Korbin's situation comes to mind. She just never had the chance to grow up in a stable environment, which led to her circumstances. Just thinking about it makes me sick.

"I'm not saying you can't understand, but they teach us to open up, to trust each other. Like with Alexia, you know? We’ve confided in each other about our issues. Plus, we're also guided. Especially by Lucy, in my case, but not just her. It’s a collective thing, you see? It's not just Lucy who helped me evolve, as you said."

"And in all this, what happens to me?"

"What do you mean, what happens to you?" I teased. "You’re still my best friend, no matter what. Nothing will change that. Neither new friendships nor our new relationships. We’re still us."

"Good, I’m relieved," she said, clearly feeling better. "Because I’ve applied for a transfer for next year."

"Really?" I said, excited.

She had mentioned wanting to follow me, but hadn’t said what she was planning. Knowing she’ll be here next year makes me really happy. Even though the school keeps me busy, I miss her a lot.

"Of course! You’re not getting rid of me that easily," she giggled. "My teacher said there shouldn’t be any problem. The school in Manchester has a better reputation, but with my good grades, I should get accepted. He even said it would be better for me."

"That’s awesome!"

I hugged her tightly. She doesn’t have an official response yet, but I’m confident it will work out. Mapi is a very diligent student, even if it doesn’t always seem that way. After all, she’s doing what she loves.

"I’m really happy, honestly."

"Can I confess something else while we’re at it?" she asked, pulling away from my embrace. "But you won’t take it the wrong way, right?"

"What now?" I asked, holding back a small laugh.

"I used to wonder if Lucy would be enough for you," she admitted, making me frown. "That was before you were together. I thought she was too calm and too sensible. Not to mention she didn’t seem to enjoy parties. You just have to see how she reacted to last night’s party agai—"

"She wasn’t feeling well yesterday," I defended her immediately. "She had a migraine, and the party wasn’t the best for her, but she still wanted to come."

"Whatever," she said, waving her hand as if it didn’t matter. "That’s not the point, it was just an example. I thought she’d be boring for you in the long run. I talked about it with Ingrid before you were together, and she got mad, saying I didn’t know Lucy. And I have to admit, she was right."

Her last sentence brought me instant relief. I was already worried she might say she no longer saw me with Lucy, which would have been strange since she’s the one who kind of pushed us together.

"So, you’ve changed your mind?" I asked hesitantly, making her shrug.

"I have to admit she knows how to handle you," she replied with a small smile that made me laugh. "That’s all that matters, and if you’re happy with her, that’s what’s important."

"I am. She’s really sweet and adorable. I didn’t expect that either."

"Oh, really?" she said, surprised.

"Well, yeah… She’s always been caring towards me, but I found her so closed off before that I didn’t know what to expect if she ever opened up."

"I see… So how is it?"

"It’s really great. She’s confided in me little by little, but now, she’s so open that I can see her expressions, you know? That wasn’t the case before."

"Hmm, hmm," she smiled. "Are you sure it’s not you who finally opened your eyes to how she feels?"

"Of course not," I replied, gently hitting her arm, making her laugh.

"I’m telling you, Ona. She was already smitten the first time I saw her interact with you. I even told Lucy. You were just too oblivious to notice."

I blushed just thinking about it. We really were blind, according to our friends.

"Maybe you’re right… We’re together now," I said pensively. "You know, I wanted to use this vacation to get closer to her. I was really scared of my reactions when starting a new relationship," I confessed to her.

"You haven’t slept together yet, have you?"

"No," I grimaced. "Do you think Lucy will be patient with that? I’m worried."

"Yeah, don’t worry. Knowing her, she has the patience of a saint. If she needs it, I bet she’ll let you know."

"If you say so… Anyway, don’t scare me like that again. I really need your positive opinion, and you know that, right?"

"I know, yeah," she smiled. "And you have it. She even managed to make me jealous, and that’s saying something."

I chuckled, shaking my head. At least she’s not afraid to admit it. Others would have denied it. Not her, and I love that about her.

"And you, with Ingrid?" I changed the subject.

"She’s great, really," she answered instantly, clearly expecting the question. "Much better than Ana. She’s cool, we laugh a lot, and she’s laid back. Oh, and also, in bed, she’s pretty good."

"Oh, Maps, please, spare me the details."

"What? You don’t want to know?"

"No, thanks," I grimaced.

"Are you sure?"

She laughed, fully aware that this is one of the few topics we can’t discuss. I’m not prudish, but I’d rather not know what my ex does with her new girlfriends. Talking about it makes me feel like we’re back in the past, and I’d rather avoid that. After this little laugh, we both sighed softly. We really needed this conversation to clear the air.

"Looks like our wild nights are over now."

"Seems like it, yeah," I chuckled.

"I think I’m a bit scared of this new change, you know, becoming an adult, having responsibilities. Ingrid even says I often act like a child," she laughed, making me smile.

I put my arm around her shoulders, pulling her close to me. She rested her head on my shoulder, accepting my embrace.

"We’ll do it together, don’t worry. Never one without the other."

She nodded and kissed my cheek afterward, making me smile. All she needed was reassurance. I regret letting things get to the point where she felt neglected and unheard. I’ll have to figure out how to balance things better in the future. I’ve already hurt her enough in the past, I don’t need to add anything else.

"I guess I owe Lucy an apology now."

"Oh, it’s not necessary."

"It is. Knowing you, you’ll tell her everything, so I might as well do it myself," she replied.

I laughed because she’s so right. I can’t hide anything from Lucy. Especially since she’s been glancing over at us, and I imagine she’ll have questions for me.

"And I’ll have to thank her too," Mapi said, drawing my attention back to her.

"For what?"

"Thanks to you two, I met Ingrid," she answered with a small smile. "We exchanged numbers to talk about you mainly, but we hit it off so well that we got closer. So, thank you too."

"It’s my pleasure if we helped you. Your happiness is important to me, you know that. Now that everything’s clear, how about a hug?"

"Damn right, I’ve been waiting for that."

I laughed as I barely had time to catch her in my arms for a tight embrace. I missed her touch. Mapi will always be the first person who helped me out of that dark place. She’s indispensable to me, and she should know that. I closed my eyes, savoring this moment that I had missed. It’s different from being with Lucy, but just as familiar.

"Come on, we should catch up with them before they start wondering where we are."

Now that she mentioned it, I realized we couldn’t see our girlfriends anymore. Instead, a small wooden cabin stood before us. I easily guessed it was the chalet where we were supposed to pick up our gear, thanks to the sign. I nodded and let her go in first. Our girlfriends were in line, so we joined them.

- "Well, what took you so long, girls?" Ingrid asked as we approached.

- "Sorry, we were just talking," Mapi explained as she pulled away from me to enjoy a hug from her girlfriend.

I nestled into Lucy's embrace, just as Mapi did with Ingrid. Lucy's expression was full of curiosity after I stole a kiss. I snuggled into her neck and whispered:

- "I'll explain later."

My answer seemed to satisfy her because she hugged me tightly and kissed my temple. I smiled as I watched the other couple interact. It was clear who was in charge between them, and it was a bit surprising. Normally, Mapi was the one who took control, but not in Ingrid's arms, it seemed. Given Ingrid's playful nature, I hadn’t expected her to take on that role.

- "When will you tell me?"

I turned my attention back to Lucy. It was only then that I noticed her impatience, which made me smile.

- "Be patient. You'll know everything tonight, I promise."

- "Hmm... Okay," she said, pouting adorably, which made me smile.

It was funny how eager she was to know. Since I’d become better at reading her expressions, I’d discovered many traits I hadn’t known about before. Curiosity was one of them. I admired her so much for being able to hide it and not bombard me with questions. That's probably what I would have done in her place, but she knew that would have made me run. I wouldn’t have been able to handle it. With these thoughts in mind, I stood on my tiptoes to kiss her again, hoping it would satisfy her for now. I could tell she was frustrated about not knowing our conversation, but I didn’t want to discuss it in front of the girls. It seemed my idea worked because she returned my kiss with a hidden smile.

- "It’s our turn," Ingrid pointed out.

We noticed she was right as we turned to the counter.

- "Can you help me pick out my equipment?" I asked Lucy. "I don’t really know what I’m doing."

- "Of course."

We walked forward with her hand resting on my waist. The receptionist handed us our gear based on Lucy’s instructions. I didn’t know anything about this, so I trusted her judgment.

- "Can’t we snowboard instead of skiing?" I asked when I saw a snowboard nearby.

- "Learn to ski first, will you?" she chuckled. "Snowboarding is much harder."

- "Really? But it’s just one board under your feet."

- "Exactly," she laughed. "It’s much harder to balance and stay on your feet. We’ll try it someday when you’ve mastered skiing."

- "So that means we’ll come back?"

- "We’ll go wherever you want, whenever you want, and as many times as you want, sweetheart."

I bit my lip at how affectionate she was becoming day by day. She had never been this sweet with me before. The tough, relentless Lucy was long gone, and I couldn’t even say which version I preferred now. I felt more and more important in her eyes, and that’s all I ever wanted.

- "Come on, let’s get going," she pulled me out of my daydream.

We thanked the man for his service, and the four of us headed outside with our equipment. We found a bench where we could sit and put on our skis. Aside from my grumbling, it was a pretty quiet moment. Lucy had a teasing smile as she watched me struggle. I had just managed to put on the boots she had chosen for me. I was surprised that she had picked the right size without even asking.

- "You could help instead of just laughing at me."

- "Of course," she said, her smile widening. "Since you asked so nicely."

- "Hey!" I protested, pouting.

- "I’m kidding."

As if she’d been doing this her whole life, she effortlessly got up and crouched down in front of me. She started by tightening the straps on my boots, which apparently weren’t tight enough for her. Then she placed the skis flat on the ground, and I finally understood the system when she positioned the tip of my foot in front of the clips. She then asked me to press down with my heel, and I heard my boot click into the ski. I did the same with the other one. At first, the sensation of having something under my feet was very strange, especially when I tried to slide them back and forth. The real fun was about to start. We exchanged a smile, as if she was thinking the same thing as I was when she stood up. She pecked my lips and held out her hands.

- "Come on, princess. It’s time to stand up."

- "Oh my God," I murmured as I wobbled the moment she pulled me to my feet.

The feeling was very weird. I probably would have slipped if Lucy hadn’t been holding me in her strong arms. She chuckled, gently pulling me closer. I regretted having such a bulky jacket on because I couldn’t feel her touch on my skin.

- "Okay... So what now?"

- "I’m going to let go and grab your poles."

- "And if I fall?"

- "You won’t fall," she laughed.

To make sure of it, she kept one arm around my waist as she moved to grab our poles. Once she had them, she let go of me and stood beside me. I glanced over at the girls who were watching us.

- "Okay," I said, taking a deep breath. "And now?"

- "Now we move forward."

I blinked as I saw Mapi following Ingrid. It was like she had been doing this forever. I parted my lips and looked at Lucy, who was laughing at me.

- "H-how did she do that?"

Lucy burst into laughter, which annoyed me. I had a feeling I’d be the last one today, and I hated that.

- "It’s not hard. It’s like walking. Just take small steps. It’ll help you get used to the skis and work on your balance. Then we’ll start sliding."

- "I’m suddenly not feeling so confident..."

- "Hey, it’ll be okay, alright? There will be falls and probably a lot of bruises tonight, but you’ll be fine. I’ll help you, and I won’t let you leave until you’ve made at least one descent."

- "Oh my God..." I muttered. "And what if I’m sore tonight?"

- "I have a little solution for that... But it’ll be up to you to decide when the time comes."

- "When you say things like that, it’s usually something I won’t like..."

- "Who knows... You’ll tell me tonight."

Wednesday, February 17th, 8:30 PM - Hotel Room.

All day, I couldn’t stop thinking about what Lucy’s suggestion would be. I turned it over in my mind a thousand times, hoping that in the end, it would be the jacuzzi we’d go to. As I had predicted, all my muscles were sore from this simultaneously disastrous and rewarding day. If I learned anything today, it’s that I’m a walking disaster. Though that’s not new, I was really bad at skiing. Once again, Lucy showed incredible patience with me. Unlike me, Mapi picked it up quickly. She’s always been more athletic and daring than me, so it wasn’t surprising. Lucy didn’t mind that we stayed at the bottom of the slope all day, while the girls and the rest of our friends who joined us after lunch went up to do runs. I think Lucy was happy we could spend some time together, uninterrupted for once. When we got back, I expected her to announce her idea right away, but she wanted us to have dinner with our friends first. It made me feel confused and reluctant, knowing that the pool had a closing time and would probably be closed by the time we were done. I was slightly disappointed since I had been dreaming about it all day, but now that I’m facing her real proposal, I don’t know how to react. I agreed, of course, but that didn’t make me any less nervous.

- "Are you sure you want to do this? I mean, I’d understand if you didn’t, you know. We’ve only been together for two weeks, and then-"

- "Luce, I told you I wanted to do it. Are you sure you haven’t changed your mind?" I half-joked.

The panic in her eyes disappeared for a moment, replaced by tenderness.

- "I haven’t. It’s just that I don’t want you to be scared or think I’m rushing things."

"We’re in swimsuits. What am I supposed to be scared of? We’ve already been in the pool, in a jacuzzi, and even in a spa. It’s not a bubble bath we’re going to take in swimsuits that’s going to scare me. »

- It's smaller, more intimate, and... private.

- That's what makes it even more romantic, right? I want us to spend some time together, just the two of us. For once, we actually have the time.

She giggles as she turns off the water that had been running until now when he gets halfway to the bathtub. To be honest, I'm in total panic inside. I can't even explain why. Lucy is everything you could want in a girlfriend. She didn't run away when I told her that I had isolated myself from the world for half a year. On the contrary, she wanted to prove to me that I'm no longer alone. Maybe it's because I know that this situation will bring us to an even deeper stage in our relationship. I push the thought away and speak.

- You getting in first? I murmur.

She nods softly, stepping one foot at a time into the tub. My eyes don't leave her for a second as she sits at the back of the tub. I hesitate for a moment, but her reassuring smile tells me I have nothing to fear. She's the only person I've never been afraid of, at least not in the context of a relationship. Of course, I fear her when she's in a black rage, especially at me, but never otherwise. I return her smile and join her. Instead of leaning my back against hers, I decide to snuggle up against her side. My tension quickly evaporates as my sore muscles relax and Lucy runs a hand through my hair, wrapping her other arm around me. The water is boiling hot, but there's nothing better after this cold day. She kisses my forehead with a satisfied sigh.

- Here we are, in this bath.

I giggle, burying my head in her neck. She had been dreaming about this, and now I finally understand why.

- Have you been dreaming of this moment all day too?

- You could say that... Did you know I wanted to do this?

- No, not the bath, I admit. But now that we're here, it was a very good idea.

And I mean it. The steam rising from the bath creates a strange atmosphere in the room. From where I'm sitting, I can see the mirror, which fogged up in no time. When I look down at the bath, I'm glad to see that the bubbles cover my bruised body.

- Do you know why Mapi's been acting weird lately? I start the conversation with a hint of amusement in my voice.

I break the silence now that we're alone, in the calm. Lucy hums slightly at my question.

- So there was a reason?

- In a way, yes...

I lift my head to meet her eyes with furrowed brows. I smile, finding her adorable like this. She always makes that face when something bothers her or when she doesn't understand what's going on.

- Hmm... So... What was the reason?

- Lots of things... Jealousy, worry, doubts...

- In what way? she asks, skeptical. She thinks I wouldn't take good care of you?

- No, that's not it.

I smile in amusement, detecting impatience in her movements. She knows Mapi's opinion matters to me. Just to tease her a little longer, I reluctantly get up to straddle her. She removes her hands from me, placing them on the edge of the tub while watching me with confusion. I lose track of our conversation, mesmerized by the beauty in front of me. The setting really enhances Lucy. My fingers trace her exposed neck. She had pulled her hair into a messy bun right after our meal. She wanted to be comfortable. I appreciate seeing her so natural. I might not be the first to see her like this, but at least I'm the first among the students at Camp Wiegman. So, she's no longer the terrifying instructor everyone fears. She's just my girlfriend, who grants me the privilege of seeing her true self. Our evenings alone are my favorite moments so far, even though I've also enjoyed the parties. She seems almost innocent and harmless, which is far from the case at school. I almost dread the moment we have to go back. I don't know how she'll react, nor how I'll react. We'll resume our roles, and I won't be able to enjoy her company in her room as I'll have to return to mine.

- What are you thinking about, looking at me so sadly?

My eyes, which were focused on her mouth where my fingers are now, rise to meet hers. Her excitement has faded into concern. I feel guilty for making her worry, just because my thoughts, which were positive before getting in the bath, suddenly veered to a darker side. It was stronger than me. The idea that we might not be able to live this normally anymore doesn't sit well with me. Especially not after the amazing week we've been having.

- Did I do something wrong? she asks, making me shake my head. Did Mapi say something she shouldn't have? she continues.

I shake my head again. Words fail me, preventing me from defending against things she might believe because of my silence. Unable to find the words, I lean in to kiss her. Hard. Though slightly hesitant, she kisses me back, her hands gently caressing my waist. I seek even more contact, but she stops me.

- Hey, hey, stop. I get that this environment can give ideas, but that's not the point of this evening.

Her words cool my ardor, and I blush, realizing what I've just done. How could I have gone so far with just one fleeting thought?

- S-sorry... I-I didn't mean to. I-I don't know what came over me.

- It's okay, really, she giggles. What were you thinking about to get carried away like that, hmm? You were looking at me with adoration before suddenly closing off.

- I'm afraid of not handling our return to school well.

Lucy arches an eyebrow in confusion. It's understandable. I'm jumping from one topic to another without any reason.

- Did Mapi mess with your head? she deduces, still unsure of what's going on.

- No! I quickly reply. Mapi just needed comfort. She was jealous that she couldn't comfort me the way you do.

- Oh. I didn't see that coming... I thought I was the problem.

- No. She just felt neglected. We've drifted apart because of the distance, but it'll be okay. And...

I pause for a moment, unsure if I should continue.

- And?

- Will you promise not to hold it against her? I ask, nervously biting my lip.

- Why would I hold it against her?

- Because I'm not sure you'll appreciate what she thought of you at first...

- Go on, she mumbles, her mood shifting.

I bite my lip again. I know I'm taking a risk, but I can't afford to stay silent. I promised myself to be honest with her.

- I think she still saw us as the teens we were, because she thought you were too calm and reasonable for me.

I watch her closely as I say all this. Her reaction is strange. It's as if she's suppressing her feelings again.

- If you say that's what she thinks, then I guess that's not how you feel?

Of course not. How many times do I have to tell you? You're everything I need, Lucy. Mapi understands that now. Especially after the Valentine's Day you planned for me. She's planning to apologize to you because she knows I would tell you. If there's one thing I'm sure of, it's that I don't care about playing the reckless teenager anymore.

- OK... she murmurs. Thank you for being honest. I'll wait for Mapi's apology.

The tone of her voice isn't as cold as I expected. I understand that she doesn’t hold it against her. After all, she didn’t like her much at first either. If she says this, it's probably because she’ll use the opportunity to talk with her face-to-face.

- Thank you, I whispered at the thought. Thank you for everything.

- I love you.

My muscles relax at these simple words, which have become part of our daily routine. Lucy had promised to show me how much I mean to her, and for the past three days, that's all she’s done. I feel so loved, especially after struggling for so long to love myself.

- Say it again, please.

- I love you, my love.

This time, there’s a hint of amusement in her voice, but it doesn’t lessen the impact. She pulls me closer, returning us to our original position.

- Everything will be okay, alright? We'll figure things out. I’ll take care of us. But you, I want you to prioritize your future.

- You are my future, I murmured.

- I mean professionally, my love. I’ll take care of you like I promised, and I’ll handle our other relationships, like with Mapi if needed, but you have to focus on your studies first. Is that clear? Can you do that? It’s not that hard, right?

- No... It isn’t, as long as you’re by my side.

- I will be, no matter what. And how about we just enjoy our moment for once, hmm? You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this.

- No, I don’t, but I understand why now. I wanted to thank you for being so patient with me. These past few days have been magical. I haven’t felt this at peace in someone’s arms in a long time.

- That’s all that matters then. That’s how I want you to feel with me. Not scared, or anxious, or lacking confidence, or uncomfortable... Just yourself.

- I am, I murmured. You’re the one who helped rebuild me. You’re probably the person I trust the most.

I take a deep breath at that thought. It’s frightening to depend so much on one person. But that’s my reality. I truly depend on Lucy. We both know that if she’s no longer in my life, I might spiral even worse than before. It happened once, and it wasn’t pretty. I could barely sleep at night or eat during meals, and it will happen again if she ever leaves me. I know that’s unlikely now, but even a one percent chance is terrifying.

- I don’t want to go back, I confided. You make me feel like I’m living a dream.

- I assure you, your dream is real, she teased. You’ll have to get used to living this peacefully.

- You have no idea how right you are, I murmured, snuggling even closer to her.

I close my eyes with a small, satisfied smile spreading across my lips. Yeah, I could easily get used to this new way of life.

- If Mapi kept us apart during our outings, it’s because she missed me, but also because she was seeking my attention out of fear that I’d leave her behind...

- I see, she sighed. There were other ways she could have shown it. Like, for example, talking to you about it.

- She knows she acted poorly, but my distance from her and my closeness to you affected her. She regrets it. In fact, we shouldn’t have involved everyone in this. I should’ve talked to her directly. I almost thought she had a fight with Ingrid.

- She didn’t, don’t worry. Ingrid mentioned it briefly at lunch, she reassured me.

A small sigh of relief escaped me. The last thing we need is for our little issues to affect their relationship.

- So, everything’s settled now? She’s going to leave us alone for the rest of the trip?

- I’ll make sure of it, I giggled.

- Good... So, back to you. Why do you understand how she feels?

- Because I’m afraid of our return to school...

- Babe, she sighed. We’ve already talked about this.

#woso #lucy bronze #woso community #ona batlle #barca femeni #woso soccer #lionesses #sefutbol fem #ona batlle x lucy bronze

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sleepinthrumyalarms · 2 years

Text

— protective instincts

pairing: wednesday addams x fem!oni!reader

warnings: graphic descriptions of violence, spoilers

summary: a full blood moon brings out the worst in oni demons: anger, jealousy, and extreme protectiveness over what is theirs

word count: 2.5k

It was late evening as the (h/c) – haired demon stood in her bathroom, hands on the sink as she looked down, gaze unfocused. Her head hurt badly, and there was weight behind her eyes as she raised her palm to rub at them, hoping to ease the pain.

The night of the Full Blood Moon came faster than she was prepared for, and her body felt all sorts of aching in unpleasant kind of anticipation. Because of her condition, the demon was one of the few people in the campus not assigned a roommate – and, while it did get lonely sometimes, she knew it was a necessary precaution. But still, she felt… isolated. As if a ruthless beast in need of a personal cage, lest she hurt anyone around her.

In her palm (Y/n) clenched an accessory adorned by a rope-like lace. It was a golden dragon pendant, eyes of rubies glistening in the light, toothy maw wide open as the snake-like creature wrapped its tail around itself. Her father gave it to her when the girl was younger, a protective charm with a purpose to lessen the fury that burned in her heart every Blood Moon. A symbol of wisdom, immortality and metamorphosis.

The demon stared at the pendant in her hand, tracing the outline of the dragon’s scales with a clawed finger, lost in thought.

She found it weird how she had never seen her father wear one of those during Full Blood Moons before. Like she was the only one in need of restraint.

(Y/n) sighed and put the charm on, taking a quick look at herself in the mirror. Her chest felt heavy, and not because of the golden trinket now adorning her being. The oni had always put her trust in her intuition and feelings rather than logic and cold calculation, and it had never failed her before. At least she believed so. She knew a person who probably wouldn’t agree.

(Y/n) didn’t want to be there. She wanted to be with Wednesday, wherever the grumpy girl was at the moment. They didn’t even have to do anything – simply being in her presence brought (Y/n) so much serenity that she wished she never had to leave the ravenette’s side.

Maybe Wednesday would play the cello for her. The demon loved watching the other girl play, how concentrated her gaze was, how her perfectly manicured fingers moved on the strings with swan-like lightness, producing grand tunes that bore a piece of the girl’s personality in its melody.

The oni’s eyes glistened, and she looked out the window – it was time to go. The (h/c) – haired girl left the bathroom reluctantly to grab her silk haori off the chair and put it over her naked shoulders and, mumbling a short prayer under her breath, moved to exit her room.

When the girl opened the door, she was greeted by the sight she had least expected – Thing, standing at her doorstep, and (Y/n) flinched, startled at the way she had almost stepped on the poor guy.

“Thing?” She raised her eyebrows, crouching in front of the appendage, “Not that I’m not happy to see you, but… are you alright?”

Thing began to sign hurriedly, his digits shaking as he tried to explain his sudden visit.

“Dude, slow down, it’s bad when you’re stuttering,” the girl scolded as gently as she could, now on her full guard at the hand’s uncharacteristic behavior, “Wednesday is… what? Where?”

Thing signed again, and (Y/n) didn’t waste any more time to grab him, letting the hand take perch on her shoulder before starting out of the room.

Wednesday ran through the dark forest, breath staggering. She could barely make out the path, stumbling over twigs and boulders, but never slowing her pace down. The girl knew she had to make it to the school, and that she had to do it quick. Even though she didn’t have anything against arson commitment, and, more importantly, encouraged it, and on a teenage prison no less, this was a different case. There were people she cared about. Friends she’d do anything to protect. And someone who she’d risk her life for, as cheesy as it sounded.

Near-death experiences really could change one’s life, the ravenette guessed.

As she came to a clearing of the forest, a dark silhouette appeared from behind a tree trunk, and, stopping in her tracks, Wednesday had to squint to let her eyes, not used to the pitch blackness around her, recognize the person blocking her way.

“Thornhill said you were dead.” Tyler mumbled incredulously, staring down at Wednesday with a frown.

“I’m feeling much better now.” Wednesday deadpanned in reply, eyes wide open and on alert, body frozen in place as she watched the young man walk over to her.

“You’re like a cockroach,” he seethed through gritted teeth, grabbing the much shorter girl by the lapels of her suit.

Wednesday didn’t flinch, looking up at Tyler with the same amount of hatred in her eyes, “This will not end well for you.”

As the man stared down at Wednesday, his face started to morph, skull deforming and eyes ugly and protruding as his bones shifted, and the ravenette fell down on the forest floor.

Now two feet taller than before, Tyler’s body tore the clothes he wore, and he growled, his back bending unnaturally, huge clawed hands almost reaching the ground. Standing back up on her feet without tearing her gaze away from the monster, Wednesday realised she might have spoken too soon.

With a sharp twist of his long arm, the hyde grabbed at her neck, and the girl’s back hit a stump painfully as she clawed at his huge hand, desperate to get out of his choking hold to no avail. As the monster raised his free arm over his head, talons ready to deliver the final strike, a loud roar tore through the midnight air.

A force equal to that of a charging bull rammed into the hyde’s side, sending him flying away into the trees. Wednesday fell down, taking big fulfilling breaths into her aching lungs before looking up.

A creature twice the size of the monster that was standing over her a few moments ago now towered in his place, broad shoulders rising and falling as it breathed heavily. Huge horns were sticking out of its head, and its disheveled (h/c) hair shined in the moonlight like an animal’s fur, pointed ears flicking in the wind.

The being turned its big head to look at Wednesday, and the girl instantly recognized the (e/c) slitted eyes glowing in the dark.

“…(Y/n)?” She whispered.

The demon’s tusks were now as big as to not let her lips close around them properly, steam coming out from the gap and out of her snout. Her gaze slid down the bloody streak on Wednesday’s forehead, and she growled, rage boiling under her grayish skin.

She turned back to the hyde who seemed to had come back to his senses, shaking his head and looking up at the intruder, baring his sharp teeth at the demon. (Y/n)’s huge mouth slowly opened impossibly wide with a low intimidating growl, saliva dripping down her tusks, gaze furious under her furrowed brows.

Oh, she was mad.

The oni lunged at the monster with a snarl, knocking him off his feet, her sharp claws tearing into his face, and the hyde howled from the pain, trying to push the demon away with his legs. He drove one of his taloned hands into her side, piercing the meat and muscle there, but (Y/n) didn’t budge, seizing the hyde’s arm still buried between her ribs in a grip strong enough to break the bone in half, and grabbed at his upper jaw, claws digging into the roof of his mouth, before throwing him further into the forest and away from Wednesday who watched the scene with astonishment, frozen.

But she quickly realised that the demon was giving her a chance.

For the first time in her life, the ravenette felt genuine fear creep up her neck. She was afraid to leave (Y/n) in the dark forest, forced to fight the hyde all by herself. While Wednesday was aware that the oni was in her element under the red light of the Blood Moon, her heart ached immensely.

A loud growl tore her out of her thoughts, and, sparing her last glance at the hurricane of teeth and claws a few feet away from her, the girl turned around and ran as fast as her feet could carry her.

Please, be careful.

To say that (Y/n) was angry would have been an understatement. She was furious, blood threatening to boil over in her veins as she tore at the monstrous creature in front of her, claws and teeth and fists almost not enough to satisfy the deep aching feeling in her guts.

How dare you?

Who do you think you are?

Did you think you could get away with this?

The image of Wednesday’s bloodied face, contorting under the hyde’s grip, flashed in front of the demon’s eyes again, and the golden pendant dangling on her neck did little to soothe her wrath as she clawed at Tyler’s face, carving deep wounds that would surely leave nasty scars even in his human form.

It was the first time she had ever seen the ravenette so helpless. She didn’t like the way it made her feel.

So (Y/n) tore, bit and clawed until she was satisfied. Until the monster was almost rendered to a bloody pulp, laying on the ground, motionless but still breathing.

For a split second, a pleasurable idea of burying her claws into the hyde’s ribcage to tear his still beating heart out coursed through the demon’s mind, hazy with fuming wrath. But she held back. She wasn’t a murderer, unlike him.

The Blood Moon illuminated (Y/n)’s body, muscles shifting under the oni’s skin as she stepped away, breathing uneven, and let out a loud roar that scattered across the whole forest, announcing her victory.

It was over. Crackstone was defeated, and Nevermore was finally safe, no longer haunted by the bloody past of the Jericho city. All of the outcasts breathed with relief seeing Wednesday come out of the front gates, victorious. But there was no rest for the wicked.

Wednesday couldn’t relax.

As Enid ran up to the shorter girl to pull her into a tight embrace, Wednesday’s eyes scanned the crowd, looking for the familiar face of the oni. But she found none.

“Where’s (Y/n)?” She asked, pulling away to look at her blonde friend, who turned her gaze towards the dark forest, not saying anything.

Without a second thought, Wednesday turned to set off into the darkness, but Enid was quick to grab her hand, stopping her.

“Wait. You… you probably shouldn’t.”

The look in Wednesday’s eyes was enough for the werewolf to let her go with a sigh, and the ravenette went past her fellow students and into the forest.

As she walked, she called (Y/n)’s name, dread crawling at her black heart with each step she took and each minute her desperate calls remained unanswered.

She tried to recall the path she took when she ran to the school, looking under every nook and cranny to find the signs of the oni’s presence – a body, anything.

Wednesday felt bitter tears gather in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall, her stride unrelenting. She knew (Y/n) was still out there. She could feel it.

“Wednesday.”

The ravenette felt a tug at her stomach as she heard a painfully familiar voice call out her name.

And there she was. Her demon girl, back to her normal size and horns gone, sitting in the shade of a tree in a far-from-perfect seiza position, her back a bit slouched with exhaustion. Her (e/c) eyes shined in the dark, illuminating her bloodied face in a warm glow, a clear remainder of her demonic spiritual power that was slowly fizzling away along with her anger. Her silk haori was draped over her naked shoulders that were rising and falling with heavy but steady breaths.

“I get it that we won?”

It took Wednesday a few moments, and then she was running towards the oni, falling into her embrace and wrapping her arms around her neck, completely ignoring the sticky red liquid the taller girl was covered in. (Y/n) was quick to return the hug, sitting back against the trunk of the tree to let Wednesday rest comfortably in her lap, bloody claws clutching at the fabric of her suit jacket.

They were quiet. No words needed to be said as Wednesday buried her face in the crook of the demon’s neck, inhaling deeply. She was real, and she was there, alive and breathing, in her arms.

Wednesday pulled away, pale hands on (Y/n)’s cheeks to inspect her face, and the demon leaned into the cold touch, closing her eyes and almost purring. The ravenette gently rubbed at a blood stain under the girl’s eye, smudging her own thumb with red in the process. (Y/n)’s eyes opened, and their gazes met.

“I’m glad you’re okay.” the (h/c) – haired demon whispered, squeezing the girl’s waist comfortingly.

“After that stunt you pulled? Of course I am. Are you hurt?”

“Oh, no. Did you think I was there to save you, silly? What I had with Tyler was personal,” (Y/n) laughed when she felt the smaller girl pinch her thigh reproachfully, “Sorry. Too soon.”

Adjusting her hold on Wednesday, the demon pressed both her hands into the ravenette’s thighs, pulling her closer to herself, “I’m fine. I humbled the guy real quick. He needed that,” she smiled, baring her bloodied canines, “Honestly, you’re underestimating me. A hyde? That’s the weakest thing I’d fight for you. Keep them coming, bring a whole army in –,” the oni wasn’t able to finish her sentence, her mouth pressed against Wednesday’s as the smaller girl pulled her into a kiss, hands on her cheeks to press herself impossibly close.

(Y/n) sighed and melted, the ravenette’s plushy lips against her chapped ones, and Wednesday tasted blood as she pulled away.

“Your overconfidence is going to get you killed one day.”

The demon averted her eyes, and her smile dropped suddenly, grip tightening, “You have no idea how badly you scared me.”

But Wednesday had. She had felt the same fear, after all, like a cold serpent crawling up her body. To her own surprise, she didn’t enjoy it.

“I’m quite notorious in the scaring department,” the girl grabbed (Y/n)’s chin to gently make the demon look into her eyes, “But with you it doesn’t feel an accomplishment.”

(Y/n) huffed through her nose and smiled again, a bit bashfully, and Wednesday’s way with words had never failed to fluster her.

“You didn’t lie. They really were quite big. Your teeth, I mean.”

They stayed like that, basking in each other’s presence, as if having spent many years apart, hearts yearning for one another, and (Y/n) finally felt the serenity she had longed for, in the arms of the person who saw her at her worst and still stayed.

#wednesday #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday netflix #wednesday x reader #wednesday 2022 #netflix wednesday #wednesday addams #wednesday x you #wednesday imagine #wednesday the series #wednesday addams x y/n #imagine #female reader #wednesday x fem!reader #wednesday x female reader

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makncheese12 · 1 year

Text

Big Girl

A/N: I want you guys to know I’m still very confused with ‘to’ and ‘too’ it’s very aggravating

Stats: requested

Jenna Ortega X bodyguard!GN!reader

“It’s gettin’ crowded out there,” your colleague says as you both glance out the front doors of the hotel Jenna was staying at. There were no flashes yet but they stood ready for when she came out.

Though you had grown used to the cameras and having the fend off the paparazzi, you were still anxious about getting her through them with their persistent pushing to get a good picture.

You had to fight urges to shove them and away from her, yell in their faces for pushing her, hell even hide her away to prevent those things but you knew it’s what they wanted. A reaction from someone to have a big headline of the sort and you didn’t want to give them that satisfaction.

“Yeah,” you mumble before looking back toward the stairs. “So make sure she can get through.” He nods in response, sensing the nerves you always tend to have when there were big crowds.

“She’ll be fine, she always is with you around.” He replies as people begin to shout toward a celebrity who walks out.

You nod and can’t help but agree. While Jenna was out in Romania you decided to become a body guard just for her sake. You knew she would become big after seeing the responses to preview to the Wednesday Series.

It wasn’t like you didn’t really trust other body guards that were issued to celebrities, but you were to afraid they’ll look away for one moment and she’ll be pulled into a crowd of adoring fans.

So who better than to be her personal body guard than you? You were big enough and with enough working out you had the strength to push through crowds for her.

Jenna enjoyed the idea, you following her around like a big dog and possessively protecting her from the paparazzi. She liked the idea so much she even told you she’d pay for the training herself.

You, of course, declined and went straight into training. After a few months of sore muscles and long lectures, you were flown out to Romania immediately by her demand to start working.

The man next to your now was your partner during training and he seemed capable of keeping the paps away, especially with how much bigger he was than you.

“How do I look?” You ask looking down at yourself, he barely glances at you, smirk evident on his face. “Same as before, just a different shade.”

You press your lips together before hitting his chest with the back of your hand. “Funny,” you mumble rolling your eyes.

“She’s on her way down.”

A voice sounds through the small microphone in your ear making both you and the man next to you stand up straight, ready to help Jenna through the crowd.

“I’ll go forward a bit, make a little path for you both.” He states before looking you over. “You look good though.” He says with a nod before making his way over to the double door, standing at the ready.

You smile softly before glancing up toward the stairs where Jenna walked down along with another woman you only send a glance toward.

You can’t help your smile from growing at the sight of her. She had shedding down from her tuxedo dress and the long cape that came after it. It left her in the white button and her little bow. The corset only added to the feature as it hugged her curves perfectly and you wondered if she had anything on to cover her bottom half.

The thought is quickly dispelled when her eyes land on yours, seemingly lighting up as her pace quickens.

You take a step out of the corner as she nears you, eyes still scanning over her to take in the view you were given.

She had looked absolutely ethereal earlier in her gown for the Met Gala but this? This was much better than what you could ask for.

Sure, you saw parts of Jenna the world would never see but it still felt like a blessing when you saw how she looked everyday. From the moment you both wake up to the time you both lay down for bed and close your eyes. And it was truly a blessing to you.

One you were eternally grateful for and will be to the day you die.

“Take a picture, it should last longer.” You wish you could. You only roll your eyes at her comment before she stops in front of you, cheeky smile as she leans slightly forward toward you.

“You look stunning, as usual.” You say, grabbing her arm gently and pulling her cheek to your lips. She lets out a quiet huff before looking over you. “You don’t look half bad yourself.”

Her eyes settle on your chest for a moment before reaching out and readjusting your bow tie then looking up at you.

“Ready?” You ask glancing toward the cameras that are already flashing. “Almost,” she mumbles before leaning up on her tippy toes — the heels giving her a little more height but not enough — and grabbing the sides of your face and pulling your down a little.

The kiss is gentle yet passionate, the feeling sending tingles down your body as you feel yourself melt in her grasp. All thoughts of having to protect her gone and making it feel like she was the one who had to protect you in your bubbly state.

She pulls away slowly with a smile on her face before nodding. “Now I’m ready.” She says smooth out her corset before patting your jacket.

You laugh lightly before holding out your arm for her and she takes it immediately. You pull your sunglasses down as you make your way out the doors, the cameras flashing quickly as you both pass, yelling things and asking you to turn slightly but you continue on toward the car.

————

You giggled quietly as you walked Jenna out of the doors, she stumbled around slightly before gripping your arm tighter to steady herself.

She seemed to have a lot of fun, especially once to alcohol hit her system and she would wander off without you.

You didn’t need to follow her though because you knew no one could hurt her inside and away from the people so you let her do her thing and find you once she was done with whatever she was doing.

Occasionally she would come back to find you, check on you with a little light flirting you fed into before getting distracted and going back into the crowd leaving you to go back to drinking and conversating with the dates of others.

Now, you kept a firm hold around her waist as she leaned into you, trying to keep herself up right.

She suddenly slightly pushes off of you once the cold air hits and begins walking on her own. You laugh lightly as you follow closely behind her.

“Where are you going?” You ask matching her walking rhythm as she looks around slightly, ignoring the paparazzi and waving toward her fans.

“I’m going to the car,” she says looking back at you with a mischievous smile you had grown fond of even if it lead to unexpected things. “I can walk by myself, I’m a big girl.” She sticks her tongue out teasingly as she continues to walk confidently in no real direction.

“Okay,” you laugh out before stopping and turning slightly. She sends a glance back at you and slows her pace, a confused look setting on her face as you begin walking in the other direction, resembling that of a lost child.

you can’t help but stare in awe at the sight, fighting the urge to follow back after to her.

“But as a big girl you should know that’s the wrong way.” You call out and through your hand up to wave toward her.

It takes her a moment to process, looking back in the other direction then back toward you before hurriedly walking after you.

You stop a moment to let her catch up, afraid she’ll fall in her heels if she moves to quickly and allow her to slide her arm through yours.

“Oh?” You hum out as you begin walking again, amused by the situation given to you on a silver platter. It was always so fun to watch drunk Jenna, even if she was a little tipsy. “I thought you were a big girl.”

“I am,” she argues quickly, sending you a warning glare when you bark out a laugh. “Big girls can use a little help sometime though, especially if it’s from people like you.”

You look toward her with a raised eyebrow but she doesn’t see as she raises her chin and closes her eyes, small smile on her face.

“Like me?” You ask and look forward to make sure you both don’t trip and fall.

“Yes, breathtaking people like you.” She gives you a doe eyed look, clearly intent on making you flustered. It works as your cheeks heat up and your smile grows to a wide one. You cover it up by snorting quietly and shake your head.

She had always had this effect on you, even before you started dating and even now when she’s half drunk and doesn’t know where she’s going. Especially now.

“You’re the one whose breath taking, I’m just in a simple tux as usual.” You shoot back and she lets her face fall, unamused. “I like your ‘usual’ tux, it makes you look sexy.” She grumbles and pinches your arm.

“Ow.” You laugh out as she lets out a quiet huff as breeze passes by causing her to shiver lightly. You frown lightly before wrapping your arm around her shoulders and she immediately leans in.

You loved little moments like this. Moments where you didn’t have to worry about getting her from one place to another or dragging her about. Moments where you didn’t have to worry about someone picking her up and trying to kidnap her. Moments where you could just relax a little.

It was nice to have a peaceful moment to breath and take in each others presence every once in a while. Sure, it was just like this in the privacy of your home far more open inside but it wouldn’t kill you to also be able to go out and stretch to do the same.

Jenna suddenly breaths in heavily before letting out a sigh of content. “You smell good.” She mumbles and you smile. “All the more reason big girls need help.”

Her comment makes you roll your eyes with a laugh as you pull away from her reluctantly, nearing the large group of people nearby.

She lets out a whine as you grab her arm, you felt the same. You didn’t want to let go of her but you also needed to get passed everyone without any problems.

You pull your sunglasses down as the flashing of the camera begins and Jenna becomes a little more sober, though still stumbling around her faces goes back to the one she keeps up in front of the people.

The second body guard opens the door for you both as you cross the street and near the car.

He nods you to you as you gently lead Jenna inside and make sure she doesn’t hit her head. “Enjoy yourself?” He asks with a smile. The question was meant to be a teasing one, he knew how you didn’t like being near snobby celebrities who put on a face to seem like something your not.

But the evening had actually been good, especially after the few minutes you got to walk with Jenna.

“Very much so.” You smirk before following after her hearing his chuckle before the door shuts behind you.

As soon as you take your seat she presses her body against you, arms wrapping around you to the point where she practically sat in your lap.

You chuckle lightly as you slide your arm around her waist and allow her to rest her head on your shoulder.

“I’m tired.” She mumbles lowly, sinking further into like she had just fallen asleep after saying the words.

“We’ll be there soon, don’t fall asleep.” You reply, rubbing her back to sooth her a little but it only makes her more sleepy. “Or you can just wake me up when we get there.” she mumbles, burying her face further into your neck and taking a deep breath in.

“Big girls should wake themselves up.” You taunt before feeling another pinch on your arm. You look down to see the sleepy glare she sends you before smiling.

“Well this big girl needs you to wake her up,” she huffs out before going back to her original position. “After all you need to do what I say, you work for me.”

You hear the teasing tone in her sleepy voice.

“Oh, is that right?” You ask, challenging her slightly and she nods. “Yes it is, as my body guard you have to do what I say.”

You resist the urge to laugh out before she speaks again. “So, I’m telling you you have to wake me up.” She states matter-of-factotum as her breathing begins to slow down.

“And if I don’t?” Her face scrunches up lightly before it relaxes again. “Then I’ll have to fire you and lock you away.” She mumbles slowly in response before her breathing evens out signaling how tired she was.

You smile lightly before brushing a few strands of hair behind her ear to get a better look at her face. She didn’t have much make up on, not that she needed it. She was more than beautiful without it. She was a goddess. Your goddess you had to protect like the good little follower you were.

And you planned on doing so until she got tired of it.

You kiss her forehead lightly before resting your head back against the head rest of the seat to get a better look at it.

“Yes ma’am.” You mumble quietly taking in the view she oh so graciously gave you.

A/N: once again another short one but oh well

NOW REQUEST DAMN IT… pretty please

#jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #fan fic #scream 6 #tara carpenter #vada cavell #wednesday addams #scream 5 #jenna ortega fanfic

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brotherblaze · 2 years

Text

double black —wednesday addams

▹ wednesday addams/gn!gorgon!reader

▹ synopsis: Wednesday’s hands are cold. They’re a pleasant balm for aching wounds and sore limbs when she follows you to the back of a grocery store to dab the blood from your nose.

▹ content warnings: mentions of violence

▹ word count: ~1,5k

▹ part 2

“Do you think your habit of flirting with girls who have partners could be because you’re afraid of rejection from the person you have feelings for? So you supplement the pain you think you’re going to feel from Wednesday’s rejection with guaranteed rejection by targeting people you know are in a relationship.”

“Isn’t that a legitimate thing called ‘rejection therapy’?” You lean back in the beige armchair. It’s comfortable. You make a note to ask where she bought it from—once you graduate from therapy. Dr. Kinbott frowns at the question you shoot back at her. She laces her hands together in her lap.

“How are things with Wednesday?”

“Oh boy.” You stand from the beige armchair, smoothing out the wrinkles in your jeans. “We’re so not doing this.”

You grab the jacket from its place draped over the back of the beige armchair and shrug it on. The collar of your hoodie strains from the new weight of the jacket and you attempt to adjust it to give yourself some room to breathe. The leather strains and whines.

Dr. Kinbott calls out your name when you turn to leave. When you turn around, fingers curled around the dark sunglasses resting on the bridge of your nose, Dr. Kinbott’s eyes are already closed. She’s standing now, her body turned towards you. You let your sunglasses slide down the bridge of your nose slightly.

The horned snakes in your hair hiss, their forked tongues flicking out of their mouths. You slowly close the space between yourself and Dr. Kinbott, placing one foot in front of the other, like a predator circling its prey. A snake extends, its tongue flicking against her cheekbone. She only steels her resolve.

“How about we continue this next Monday? After Parents’ Weekend?”

You narrow your eyes at her, a displeased hum escaping your throat. The snakes withdraw to their braided position on top of your head. One pushes your sunglasses back up the brudge if your nose with the top of its head. Its tongue flicks at your cheek.

“Yeah, whatever.”

The door slams shut behind you and for a moment you consider going back to apologize. Instead, you rush down the stairs, hands frantically rummaging through your jacket pockets. A pack of cigarettes and a lighter, the sweet taste of mint-scented herbal cigarette between your lips, gray smoke curling into the air.

You step onto the chilly street.

Wednesday is standing at the cash register in the small grocery store. She stares at the baby in the stroller in front of her, her lips turned into a frown. It’s giving her a toothless smile.

The bell above the front door jingles and draws her attention just in time. You rush into the store, leaping over the low magazine rack. The thud your heavy boots make reverberates through the store and the weight tips your balance. Your shoulder collides with the wall and a broken wail escapes your throat before you take off towards the back of the store.

The bell jingles again and a small group of boys flood in. Immediately the woman at the cash register hisses at them to leave. The security guard Wednesday had spotted upon entry emerges from the bread aisle. Suddenly, there’s an edge in the room. She doesn’t hear what is said but the gaggle of teenagers leave with loud swearing.

The cashier shakes her head, adding a few choice words of her own under her breath. When she reaches for the marshmallows on the counter, Wednesday snatches the pack.

“I forgot something.”

Wednesday makes her way down the long aisles of the store. She spots a shelf of wet wipes and grabs it.

You’re hidden at the very back of the store, sitting on an unopened crate of Coca-Cola. There’s an ache in your ribs as you attempt to level your breathing and a burn in your throat from the cold spring wind. You remove your sunglasses, staring at the cracked lens with a frown. Shit. These things are expensive. The world is bathed in a dim green glow and you swear under your breath.

Wednesday stops just before she can turn the corner of a tall shelf to face you. She peers over the items stacked onto the shelf at eye-level: you’re sitting on the other side, dark sunglasses in hand, staring at the shelf like you know she’s there. She observes the faint green glow in your eyes, the tightness in your jaw, the blood dribbling from your nose. So, she leans forward enough to put the baby wipes into your line of sight. Your shoulders drop and you lean back to rest against the exposed brick wall, eyes sliding closed.

She’s clear to approach.

Wednesday places her bag on the floor and crouches in front of you. Her fingers brush the rich red blood from your lip and she takes a moment to examine it. Then, her gaze snaps to your face. A split lip, bloody nose, left cheek marred and caked with fresh blood.

“Which one of them did this?”

You sniff at the feeling of wetness on your upper lip and wince when you inhale. The scent of metal is almost nauseating and the taste is even worse, tangy and bitter on your tongue. It only spreads when you swallow.

“Some jackass thought I was flirting with his girlfriend ‘cause I asked to borrow her phone and she smiled at me. So, he grabbed all his sad little friends to gang up on me.” You shrug your shoulders. “And they call us the savage freaks—what a fucking joke.”

Wednesday stands, ripping open the wet wipes packet. She lets the opened pack drop onto your lap and leans down slightly to run the wipe over your split lip. It’s cool against your skin, or maybe it’s Wednesday’s cold hands. Either way, you breathe a sigh of relief.

Your ribs ache.

Wednesday is hovering over you, dabbing the drying blood from your nose and lips. You reach for the open packet on your lap and re-seal it. She pauses for a moment and you can clearly imagine her scowl. You grin widely, teeth stained with blood.

“It’ll dry out.”

You bet she’s rolling her eyes as she continues dabbing the blood away. Her touch is gentle, her cold fingers tipping your chin upwards slightly. A silence lingers, the only sound so far back being the shop’s radio blaring music over your heads.

“So can I open my eyes yet? ‘Cause staring at the darkness is boring.”

“I don’t know, will you turn me into stone?” You can feel her breath hitting your lips as she speaks.

“I think you’d make the most gorgeous decoration in a mausoleum. Or next to one, if you want to spend your eternity with rainwater corroding you.”

“Isn’t that the dream?”

Wednesday’s eyes rake your face again, finding a new wound on your hairline. She takes a fresh wipe from the packet, making sure to re-seal it loudly, and moves to the cut.

The snakes in your hair curl away from the injured spot and towards her, their tongues flicking out of their mouths as they sniff Wednesday’s hand. One bumps its forehead against the side of her knuckles and she pivots from cleaning to wound to scratch the snake under its chin.

She spots a snake just hanging there—right next to your ear. Another one bumps it when it approaches her for chin scratches and Wednesday realizes the body does not have a head. It only abruptly ends. It hangs next to your ear, limp and lifeless. Your hand rises to brush it behind your ear.

Wednesday tucks away the image of a limp snake to ask about later.

Rapid footsteps, the clicking of heels. You grunt, face scrunching up. More rich red blood from your nose. Wednesday presses the wet wipe in her hand under your nose just as headmistress Weems rounds the tall shelf. Her lips are pulled into a tight smile and she thanks the man in the store’s gaudy yellow shirt before her gaze settles on you.

“In my defense, all I did was ask to borrow a girl’s phone ‘cause mine died. Literally zero flirting this time.”

Larissa Weems takes a deep breath and exhales it after a few short moments. “Let’s go.”

You huff and stand, the crate of Coca-Cola groaning under your movements. The packet of wet wipes is clutched tightly to your chest, broken sunglasses hanging between your fingers. You linger until Wednesday has grabbed her bag, now slung over her shoulder, and she takes hold of your upper arm to help guide you to the car. Her hands are cold.

(You prefer them that way.)

“Hey, Larissa—“

“It’s headmistress Weems.”

“Can I go to the movies next weekend, since I don’t talk to my parents—ergo, I can’t go to Parents’ Weekend?” You lean your head back and open your eyes. The glare from the bright overhead lights hurts.

“No.”

“C’mon, it’s Morbius! It comes out on April 1st, the jokes write themselves!”

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams x you #wednesday x reader #wednesday x you #wednesday addams #wednesday netflix #wednesday #wednesday 2022 #fanfiction #fanfic

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lovelettersforthedamned · 8 months

Note

re: “congrats on 200 followers, lovely!! you deserve 100x more! could i request 8 from the angst prompt + hurt/comfort 5 ❄️❄️”

oh my gosh i didn’t even realise i forgot to put a character - suppose that’s what happens when you spend all night on tumblr 😭 tasm Peter or Matt Murdock pls <333

Priorities

--genre: angst :(

--pairing: matt murdock x gn!reader

--word count: 1.1k

--warnings: language, mentions of alcohol, arguing, matt is the king of self sabotage, angst.

i'm a sucker for some good angst omg

“He hasn’t been alright (Y/N),” Karen sighs, “when he’s here he’s on edge. I know he can hear things we can’t, but it’s like…it’s like he’s not really here.”

You’re sitting next to her at Josie’s bartop, the crowd is mellow on this rainy Wednesday night. You can tell Karen is genuinely concerned about Matt, the look in her eye tells you so. You’re running through the possible reasons why your boyfriend could be feeling this way, but you draw a blank. You furrow your eyebrows, frustrated, “He’s been quiet lately, but he never brings it up.”

The blonde in front of you takes another sip of her drink before she clears her throat, “I don’t know what’s going on, but I have a feeling it has something to do with the devil.”

You can only nod your head. You hate when Matt gets in over his head about his nightly activities, it’s hard when you can’t do anything about it, not like he lets you anyway. “I’ll keep an eye out for him the next few days,” you reach into your wallet for cash, “just keep me updated about how he is at work, okay?”

She stands with you from the seat, giving you a tight hug as you say your goodbyes, and heading home to your apartments. You can’t help but think about Matt the entire walk home, your mind taking you to dark places. It wasn’t hard to worry about him, considering the fact that he loves to push himself past the limit more often than not.

You would never tell him to stop, right?

***

For the next few days, you start to pay attention to Matt when he’s home. The first thing you notice is that he seems to always be in a rush. He’s quick to get ready for the day, and he’s quick to get ready for the night. You’re not sure where this sudden boost in drive has come from, but what Matt doesn’t realize is that the quicker he riles himself up, the harder he plummets.

You’ve gotten multiple texts from Karen during the day that Matt is blowing up on Foggy while clients are in the room. You know that something’s wrong, and you don’t know how to fix it, but you have to try.

Later that day, you caught Matt putting his suit on to go out into the city, the sun draining the light away from your apartment. As he’s about to put his helmet on, your voice interrupts his movements, “Matty, can we talk real quick?”

He sighs, already walking away from you, “I’m about to leave, can we talk later?”

“How long have you been feeling like you need to do more for the city when you do more than enough?”

Your question catches him off guard, he stops in his tracks, his back facing you. He can hear that your heart is beating faster than normal, the question making you nervous. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he responds, quickly.

You cannot help but laugh at his response, “You’re a terrible liar.”

Shaking his head out of frustration, he takes a deep breath, “You don’t need to worry about anything that I do when I’m out at night, trust me.”

“Another shitty lie, Matty,” you walk towards him. Once you reach his back, you raise your hand to hold his arm, giving it a soft squeeze. Unconsciously, he leans into your touch. You know that he’s been craving this kind of softness since he started to act differently. “You know that I still worry, even though you tell me not to. I can’t help it,” you speak softly.

And suddenly, it’s like his hard demeanor returned with a flip of a switch, “I need to get out there (Y/N),” he shrugs his arm out of your hold. You’re left there standing like an idiot in the middle of the living room as you watch your boyfriend walk away from you. You can’t help but feel angry, it’s like everything you said went through one ear and spilled out the other. Turning on your heel you walk to the closet, pulling down the suitcase, letting it slam on the floor. You don’t care.

The obvious slam caught Matt’s attention, his worries now focused on you. He hears more shuffling coming from your shared bedroom, along with sniffles. He calls out to you, before walking to you, “(Y/N)?”

He’s met with no response, just the sounds of your muffled sobs and the rustling of clothes. As he gets closer to you, he can taste the salt in the air as your tears stream down your face, and suddenly he’s panicking. “I never wanted it to get to this point,” you zip up the suitcase as you rise to your feet, Matt’s sudden appearance scaring you as you see his figure.

His eyes are darting back and forth as he tries to de-escalate the situation, yet his tone is still sharp, “What point?”

You’re still a mess, running your hand across your eyes to wipe your tears, you smear your makeup across your skin. With an uneven breath, you respond, “You’ve reached the point where you stop valuing yourself and the people around you to dig your own grave, Matthew.” You try to make your way around Matt, but he doesn’t make it easy as he holds your shoulders, keeping you in place.

“Don’t make me do this,” he says quietly, “don’t make me choose.”

You think that you’ve actually gotten through to him, you hope a sense of clarity has finally washed through his senses. Until you see his head twitch, his ear lifting towards the air. You can’t hear anything, but you know that he already has an exact location of whatever commotion is happening in the streets of Hell’s Kitchen.

With your boyfriend distracted, you shrug his hands off your shoulders, “Looks like I didn’t have to make you choose, you’ve already figured out your answer yourself.”

As you’re walking out of the bedroom and towards the front door of the apartment, Matt calls for you, “I’ll be back in a few hours, then we can talk, okay? Just–please, don’t go anywhere.”

And just like that, he slips out of the window, not even waiting for your response. Maybe Matt’s heart will never fully belong to you, and you should’ve known that when you first met him. He has always and will always dedicate himself to the city, and you’ll just have to come to terms with not being his priority. That is if you stay.

--author's note: I KNOW THAT MY 200 FOLLOWER CELEBRATION IS DONE, BUT I HAD A BURNOUT PERIOD SO HERE'S ONE LAST FIC!!! ❄️ anon this is such a good request, thank youuuu! don't forget to like, comment, and reblog to support me and your fav writers! my asks/inbox is open, so send me your juicy ideas baes...ok, bye ily<3333

#marvel #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock angst #daredevil x reader #angst #matt murdock x gn!reader #LLFTD 200 FOLLOWER CELEBRATION

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