#this is the same one that got stuck in the fence

[foldingfittedsheets]

My best friend growing up was a matter of convenience over compatibility. The boy across the street was only a year older than me. We had some common interests but our personality types were a terrible clash. I remember fighting with him just as vividly as any peaceful activity.

We were stuck in the same boat though. There was no other kids to socialize with except our odious older brothers, and being together was slightly less wretched than being alone. Most of the time. Our parents joked that we were like an old married couple, always fighting. We’re both gay now.

His family was better off so he brought more toys and video games to the friendship table. My family had more land so we had animals to play with and secret forest clubhouses. We hung out most days but he refused to acknowledge me at school for the sin of being both a year younger and a girl.

He was a terribly sore loser though. When playing fighting games he’d win four out of five rounds but if I won the fifth he’d turn the console off before letting my character do a victory dance. I was fairly prosaic about this. He liked to play them and I went along. When I won I got to suggest other activities.

Now, I mentioned we both had older brothers. His older brother was only three years above him. They scuffled in a normal sibling manner but the older brother was cognizant that he was bigger and stronger and these fights were more what I would characterize as fencing. There was rules and treaties in place.

My older brother was five years older than me. When we fought it was a no holds barred pit fight. I went absolutely feral. Significantly younger and weaker I unleashed my greatest weapon which was absolute berserker tactics. I bit, scratched, went for the balls, I was a menace. I paid no heed to any injury done to me if it let me land another strike. Most of our fights ended in a stalemate of me pinned or him bleeding too profusely to continue harassing me.

I never considered that I was getting more fighting experience than my friend. When scuffles broke out between us without a controller in hand I won every time. He’d jokingly smack me and we’d go down in a ball of flying hair and monkey screeches, but I always ended on top.

The trouble was, I found, that afterward he was no fun at all. His fragile childhood masculinity couldn’t take these defeats from someone younger and more female than him and he’d always sulk home afterward. I didn’t care for that, especially because fighting him was much more fun than my horrible brother.

Then one day I found the secret. I’d whapped him far too hard upside the head and he began to cry immediately. Full of guilt I whimpered that he’d really hurt my knee. He stopped crying. He hurt my knee? Then we were even! He’d hurt me just as badly and therefore the fight was a draw.

I was delighted by this logic. Every fight thereafter I saw no shame in playing up some injury he’d dealt me retroactively. I had no pride to lose and shamelessly acted beaten to avoid hurting his feelings. Our fights were milder as a result, and we both went away feeling elated by the childhood violence rather than defeated.

[angelsforthenight]

BEYOND SALVAGE — ellie williams x fem!reader.

a catholic boarding school AU pt 1 🍓

pt 2 here!

you’re somebody that’s virtuous, staying in an all girls catholic boarding school. fallen victim to the vast fear of god, you try your hardest not to sin. however what happens when an embarrassing incident catches a certain rogue girl’s attention — who absolutely reeks of sin?

content: heavy religious talk, catholic, holy! reader, rebel!ellie, quiet!reader, player!ellie, ellie has piercings, ‘lil raunchy but no smut (yet heheh), v brief mention of drugs, v brief mention of porn.

a/n: this is a rewrite of a fic i did back in the summer! i had accidentally (and stupidly) deleted my account :,) let’s pray people see this.

having lived in a catholic boarding school for half of your life, it’s only natural you were heavily religious. the fear of god plagued you like a disease. you were nailed on following the Word, and earning a seat in heaven — not it’s roaring, fiery counterpart.

you were a good girl: always following the rules the sisters bestowed upon you. always deemed as pure, and untainted. you prayed every night without fail: knelt beside your bed, elbows against the mattress, hands clasped together.

you had always tried your hardest to stray away from sin. however, there’d be temptations, of course. for instance, that one time you caught a bunch of girls in your dorm giggling and squealing at a porno-magazine they had randomly found somewhere. you had accidentally caught a very brief glimpse at a woman flaunting her tits and you couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but it made you feel something. a needy little throb between your thighs. that night, consumed with guilt, you had prayed so hard that your head hurt.

oh, and if we’re talking about temptations? ELLIE WILLIAMS had to be the hardest one yet.

take the word sinful and ellie would come to mind. she was someone you had always tried your best to avoid. rebellious, brash and cocky. it was said she was forced here as punishment from her parents. she had always been hard to discipline: had piercings (spider bites and one on her right brow), always snuck out and was notorious for smuggling in drugs.

even though ellie was a pain, there was no way the nuns could expel her since her parents sponsored the school a generous amount. they had to resort to seeing ellie as someone they could “save.”

whenever she roamed the hallways, every girl would scramble to move out of her way. she was incredibly intimidating and got into fights whenever she wanted to — both with students AND the sisters. of course you wouldn’t want to mess with her.

there were also numerous rumours circling around about her. too many to count, but one stuck with you the most: that she gets it on with girls. hearing from your gossip-gripped friends that ellie had fucked a handful of girls in your school had surprised you. you were brutally naive, so preoccupied with seeming good in the eyes of the Lord that you weren’t aware that something like that could happen. this had only made you want to stay away from ellie even more.

you were quiet, so timid and meek that you believed yourself lucky to actually have friends. your quietness allowed ellie not to notice you, not even be aware of your existence despite you two being in a lot of the same classes. you didn’t mind — in fact, you were glad. relieved, even.

that is, until the school’s annual sports day.

it was a scorching hot day in the middle of june and many of the girls were excited. not particularly because of the sports but because every time, the neighbouring all boys school would join yours. a classic boys versus girls. you didn’t really care whether the boys were here or not, as opposed to your friends who were all bashful and red-faced. you found it understandable considering they’re sheltered away from them most of the time. bless them.

you and your friends were leaning against the fence of the tennis court. you were so hot that your t-shirt stuck to the small of your back, little baby hairs glued to your forehead. bored from all the boy-talk, your eyes decided to drift to a certain auburn-haired girl: manspreading on the bench right across from you. you wondered how a woman could sit so unladylike.

ellie was out of breath, probably from doing a running activity. there was visible sweat gleaming on the corner of her forehead and her cheeks were pink. god knows why, but you allowed yourself to prolong your stare. you watched as ellie grabbed her water bottle, gulping down desperate sips; some of the water spilling and dripping down her slender neck. you watched as the skin on her neck bobbed as she sipped, heard as she panted breathlessly like a dog. you felt the skin on your cheeks begin to prickle, and you suddenly found it hard to breathe. when her pale green eyes caught yours, you immediately looked away, turning your attention back to your friends. that was the first time you two had ever made eye contact.

a moment later, it was your group’s turn to play tennis. ellie remained perched on the bench, and as you waited in the queue to have a go on batting the ball, you happened to be quite near her. you tried your very best to play it cool. ellie paid no attention, spaced-out and obviously too lazy to participate in the activities.

there were also boys in the queue, right behind you, which had got your girls in a frenzy. one of your friends decided to push you against them. “oops” she would say before purposely bumping you towards them again and again. you were awkward and uncomfortable, but you had played it off and giggled, acting as if it was funny. at a point, she accidentally pushed you too hard which made you lose your balance; stumbling on your heel and falling backwards. right onto ellie’s lap. yep! her lap.

“woah?” ellie said, caught off guard. “oh shit. go. go!” your so-called friends murmured as they scrambled off, leaving you completely and utterly humiliated. you immediately bolted off her lap as you turned around to look at her.

“i’m really sorry. that was— i mean, my f-friends were…” you began to ramble, feeling your whole body turn hot. ellie’s lips cracked up into an amused grin.

“it’s chill. not very often you get a cute girl sitting on your lap for less than a second.” she chuckled. you blushed immensely, before rapidly nodding and speeding away.

if only your little innocent self knew how quick things would change…

a/n: hooked? read pt 2 here!

[itstheghostofmypast]

Must Be Love

Corporate Worker San x (F)Reader

Summary: Love, is an emotion so deep that once earned, it could change lives. Unfortunately, neither of the two had ever had the opportunity to feel love. Well, maybe he had, but having his heart thrown back at him, made him realise that the corporate world was far too busy, far too bitter and far too cold for a hardworking boy from Namhae- it was about time he accepted the bitter taste of reality.

Genre: Hurt/Comfort/Fluff

Warnings: Languages/ Insecurities (majorly of being alone)

Word Count: 21k

Est. Read Time: 1 hr

Rating: nc-17

Networks: @cromernet @k-labels

Banner: @cafekitsune

Master List- Corporate Brew

A/N: Only God and @edenesth know how this was supposed to be a timestamp, that turned into a oneshot that is so long- that I- I swear I don't even know why San has me in a chokehold.

"All I'm saying is that speed dating does work for some people." The brunette claimed entering the elevator with the taller man who shook his head with a pout, pressing the parking button. Sure, speed dating worked for a few people, but those few people were rarely introverts, moreover, he did not have time for love. Love was a luxury he could not afford, especially after his last encounter with the villain, he believed that distancing himself from it would keep him safe, and keep him from hurting.

"Yeah...just not my thing," he mumbled, stepping out onto the concrete floor, their polished shoes scraping against the cement, echoing in the enormous parking lot. Sighing he looked over the fence, frowning at the jam below, "I hate Mondays", muttering to himself he turned to wave off Yeosang who smiled at him, before ducking down to enter his car, lowering the window once the engine was switched on, "I'm just saying San, you can't let her get to you forever."

"See you tomorrow Yeosang." with one final wave his friend drove off, as the man himself, got into his car, buckled up and decided to speed out, it didn't matter anyway, he'd be stuck in traffic but at least it'll be quick, it was already 9 pm, the sooner he could go home, the sooner he'd be in bed, ready to succumb to the solitude and silence at his apartment. 

Unfortunately, by the time he arrived, it was already 11 pm. Cursing under his breath he walked out of the elevator, so exhausted, so tired, so done with everything. A constant ringing in his ears only added to the discomfort, as he squinted at the hallway lights. Making his way down his corridor he reached his door until pausing, turning his head to find someone sitting at the door next to his, hugging her knees- was she...crying? All too suddenly the ringing disappeared, the lights around him became much bearable, the dull greys around him morphing into something else- San, stop. Clearing his throat, he looked at her, trying to get her attention, which he only got once he 'fake' coughed.

His curious gaze met with glossy doe eyes, and a tear-stained face stared up at him. Unknown to him, she had just come to the realisation that God really did do people favours, and one of those favours was creating a being like the one standing above her, with a gaze so soft she could almost feel it, his features sharp as a feline and not to mention those shoulders, damn what a beauty. She watched him blink at her slowly before turning around and- oh. He went inside.... wow.

With a snort, she shook her head-that was anti-climactic. Of course, why would anyone even want to deal with her, especially someone like him?

San closed the door behind him, slowly walked over to the console table, and stopped to stare at his reflection, God he looked like a mess, no wonder she was staring at him like that. Running his fingers through his hair, he sleeked back his bangs, trying to calm down his nest of hair before fixing his tie and opening the door to find her in the same place, walking over to her as he cleared his throat.

"Excuse me Ma'am-" he began, pausing when she looked up at him with a frown, man, he wasn't good-looking, but he wasn't that ugly either.

"I lost my key." 

"You- what?" quirking a brow he stared at her before looking at the numerous bags and suitcases beside her, how exactly did he not notice these before? 

"I moved in today...lost my key and the landlord is out of town," mumbling she hugged her knees tighter looking away from him, frowning at the tiled floor, waiting for something, a backhanded compliment, an insult, a taunt, something to remind her of her ignorance and lack of competence. 

Sighing he rubbed his face, before staring at the door, looking at the lock pad, moving closer he stood right beside her, glancing down at her, though she was still staring ahead, frowning like a child put in time out shaking his head he began pressing the numbers on the keypad, resetting the door's lock- knowing this was no longer a used apartment, it had a generic code from number one to five, he was confused why the landlord had decided to not tell her this. On the other hand, this was common knowledge, but then again, he didn't know these things when he started, a fresh graduate with the hopes of stepping into the world with a will to change stuff- that is until the corporate world put him back in his place.

The beeping caught her attention, side eying him, most of her vision just comprised of his pant leg, craning her neck upwards, she met with the gaze of an angel, giving her a small smile as the light behind him glowed in all in angelic mercy. Was he...bipolar?

"I've reset it. Please change the passcode once you settle in."

With that he walked away, leaving her sitting there, grateful yet so confused, his calm demeanour just putting her anxiousness at bay. The soft click of his door brought her back to reality, clearing her throat she stood up, dusting her clothes she made her way to his door, clearing her throat, trying to fix her hair before ringing the doorbell.

San was almost done unbuttoning his shirt when the doorbell rang, as he paused, groaning in disdain the man glanced at the clock, it was almost midnight, what on earth did the world want from him now? Messily buttoning it back up he padded to the door barefoot, his tie hanging around his neck, annoyed at the pestering dinging of the bell as he swung the door open, glaring at whoever was rude enough to ruin his few moments of silence and bliss.

"Th-oh- sorry." she stammered, averting her gaze before bowing and thanking him, mumbling her name and scurrying away through her open door, slamming it shut, her things still outside. He stared at her, what a peculiar woman, what was her problem? Glancing down he realised most of his shirt was still unbuttoned- oh…well technically he was wearing a vest- shit did she think he was weird? A pervert? Great going Choi San. Sighing for the nth time of the night he closed the door, finally deciding to go to bed and forget whatever embarrassing things he had done tonight.

Leaning her ear against the door she weighed for it to close, praying to any entity out there that he did not assume she was weird or a perv. It's not like this was the first time she'd seen a man and technically he was still fully clothed so- God, Jongho was right, she's been single for too long. A good ten minutes later she cracked open the door, leaning out to glance at her neighbour's door, apartment number 404, well then, at least he was gone, she could pull in her stuff without any interruptions. 

.

"You traumatised- no, you harassed a woman," Yeosang mumbled, coat in hand as he entered the elevator, San following in behind, San who was also late today, San who had rushed to work today, forgetting both, his laptop at home and his coat.

"I did not." he sighed, staring at his reflection, he hadn't gotten much sleep last night - or any other of the previous nights for that matter. Usually, when he'd lay down, his body would be exhausted, but an hour in all he'd do was toss and turn restlessly, blanketed by something else, something heavy and blue, at this point he had no clue as to what to do. The room would just end up getting stuffy and within a few hours, he'd slip out of bed, have a cup of coffee, shower, change, try to eat something, anything so he could function and leave like he had a whole eight hours of sleep.

"Should've asked her how she lost the key though." the other man hummed, pressing the buttons of their floors, eying his friend who was now leaning his head against the wall, eyes closed with a pout.

"No."

"No?"

"No, she was already upset, who cares how she lost them." he sighed, straightening up once the door opened, "Didn't feel like adding salt to the wound."

"Aww...my stoic Mr.Choi is so considerate." he teased, patting the back of his friend who rolled his shoulders, before walking out, mumbling a, "I'll just take Mingi's jacket- don't bother coming by!' he turned around swiftly to point at Yeosang, who stood there behind the open doors, waving at him, "Whatever you say...." waiting for the doors too almost close for the punchline, "Perv."

.

"Will you be going out for lunch today, Sir?" Mingi asked, fingers frozen above the keyboard, peaking through his glasses as he stared at San who was locking the glass door to his office.

"Yeah...want something?" the man turned to look at his secretary - assistant, mind you- who shook his head, "Enjoy your lunch, Sir." with that he went back to typing up the due report - one that was due a day ago, he was just glad San hadn't realised that yet.

Shaking his head San sighed, "Mingi, my man, you gotta stop calling me Sir." stuffing his hands in his pockets he looked around the almost empty floor, "Also, I've submitted the report." his words caused the taller man to freeze, his curious eyes locking with a tired, blank pair, an apology simmering at the tip of his tongue but the man raised his hand to stop him, "Just...tell me next time." 

"Yes Sir."

"Creme croissant and a latte, right?" he asked as he began to walk away, being nothing more than a hero- no, an angel, for Song Mingi, oh how he wished everyone had a boss like his. Standing up and bowing a good 90 degrees he kept thanking the man until the elevator doors closed.

.

Grimacing at the bitter taste of his coffee he walked down the street, frowning at almost everything. The sun was too bright, the birds were too loud, there was too much traffic and lunch hour was packed. Holding onto the paper bag of Mingi's lunch he bit the end of the straw, staring into the windows of the shops he passed by. Why did these people look so happy? Did they not have work? What did they have that he did not?

Too lost in thought he collided with someone, though little damage was done to him, other than dropping Mingi's lunch, his coffee was fine, and so was his shirt. Sighing in relief he turned to look at the person who had ended up on the floor, about to apologise he paused, "Oh...it's you."

Falling on your butt is one of the worse things known to man or woman in her case, truth be told she hadn't seen the man, especially because of the boxes that she was holding, they were heavy and if Jongho didn't think that rock-paper-scissors was not the best solution for any problem, especially when it meant carrying heavy objects, she wouldn’t be here. She was picking up the cups that fell out of the box, luckily the one with the spoons and forks was taped up, mumbling an apology to the person before spotting the soiled package- shit.

"I'm so sorry-" she was cut off by his statement, staring up at him, oh shit. Clearing her throat she nodded before standing up, patting the dust off her clothes and apologising, "I-I'm sorry I didn't see you there. " He was about to say it's okay please stop apologising but before he could she reached for his feet causing him to bounce back only to realise she was reaching for what remained of Mingi's lunch.

"I- I'm so sorry, I'll get you a new one." she said placing it on the boxes and trying to pick them up, though he reached for them before she could, picking them up, "Please stop apologising. It's alright, you don't have to," he said as he looked at her from over the boxes. Wow, he makes the boxes look small, what else can he pick up?

"No, please you don't have to help me, I can carry them." she said trying to reach for them but he shook his head, nodding in the opposite direction, "Where were headed?"

"LET ME MAKE YOU LUNCH" 

The two stared at each other, her words causing the two to stare at each other before he cleared his throat, averting his gaze and she shook her head trying to explain, "I mean for the one I dropped, I have a cafe- technically it's not open yet but you-you can be the first official nonofficial customer."

"Ah...okay," whispering he turned to look at her again and nodded, following her as she began to speed walk in the direction of his office- oh it was close by? They stopped at a closed shop just a block away, the windows covered with newspapers, including the glass door. Craning his neck back he stared at the name, a giant board of the name - oh it's a cafe? 'Jiyuu'.

Freedom, huh? He followed her inside, only to abruptly stop when she turned around "I can hold it-"

"Just tell me where to keep it,” he asked before walking towards the dusty counter, placing the boxes on it and turning to her but she zoomed into the kitchen mumbling, a 'Please stay here, I'll be right back'. 

He stood there, idle, hands in his pockets, staring around the semi-decorated place, wasn't shabby, and wasn't over the top modern as well. It was close to his work too, maybe he'd try the coffee here. Speaking of coffee, how did a simple cafe owner- one that was still closed- afford an apartment like his? Someone cleared their throat, earning his attention. 

"Here you go," she mumbled, "Sorry again." handing him the paper bag- it was bigger than the one he had for Mingi.

"Thank you." nodding at her he pouted, "I told you, it's okay." with that the two stood there, awkwardly standing, staring at anything but each other, the hustle and bustle of outside muffled through the newspaper-covered glass windows, the golden glow just adding to the calm atmosphere. He hadn't felt like this in a while he had not been able to hear his thoughts in a good while, it bothered him, the slow atmosphere, there was no rush, and even time had a pace of its own. A melancholic serenity, he was slowly beginning to enjoy until his phone rang, causing him to jerk back to reality, only to realise she was busy unboxing, when did she move away? Did she just let him stand there, staring at the wall? 

"I- thanks again." clearing his throat he nodded at her, earning a gentle smile, "Thank you too." with that he quickly made his exit.

That day, Mingi received more than just a croissant and a latte, he got a whole Danish pastry, a cold coffee and more assorted baked items- No, San did not tell him how he got them, he just told him it was his treat. That day, San had finally witnessed something, felt something so similar that he felt goosebumps, felt the hairs at the back of his neck stand, yet, other than his internal conflict, the world around him was at a pace so strange, one that was slowly pulling him in, something he was deathly afraid of, yet, he welcomed it, just a little bit. That day she finally made a friend, other than Jongho, even if it were comprised of him just being nice to her, she'd accept that, everyone was falling in love, and at least she was no longer falling behind.

.

A week, it had just been a week since the two had come to know about their existence and he had realised how even though he'd address her with her first name she'd use Mr.Choi. Perhaps she would do so out of respect, or perhaps she was scared of him. Either way, what he did not expect was for her to knock on his door, drenched to the bone, shivering as she tried to give him that usual smile 'Everything is A-okay!'. He could see right through it, and even though he had decided to not meddle in others' affairs, he still somehow found her sitting on his couch, clutching onto a mug of tea, one of his spare towels wrapped around her shoulders.

That is not what baffled him, what truly amazed him was how this strange woman just barged into his apartment, wet as a cat caught in the rain and had brought up a proposition, much similar to the one Yeosang would bring to the table during the yearly board meetings, making San want to strangle him most of the time.

"So, in reality, you want me to drop you off at your place of work and you'll pay me...with coffee?" He asked, watching her sit on his extremely expensive leather couch, sleek black, matching the monochromatic theme of his living room, and her damp clothes were not doing the leather any favours.

"Yes- I mean, No- I mean a coffee and something to eat, whatever you like! I read that business and corporate people love a good brew and I'll be targeting them too so-" she went on and on, playing with the hem of her damp cardigan, but he raised a hand to stop her, her eyes widening at the gesture, oh god, was he going to throw her out? Jongho did tell her that this was a bad idea.

"Why are your clothes wet?"

"O-oh." her face flushed at the question, her gaze flickering to her lap as she cleared her throat, "It started raining on my way back...and I didn't have an umbrella."

"But the forecast.... mentioned it." he sighed, rubbing his face with his hands before stopping to glare at her, "Did you not take one or did you forget it at the cafe?" his words were cold, but held some form of warmth to them, though his hard glare softened at her meek response.

"I left it at work, Mr.Choi."

"Go home." was all he said as he stood up and walked over to the main door, turning to catch her staring at him with wide glossy eyes, of course, she wouldn't get the hint, "We leave at sharp 6 am”.

.

"So... this is just what neighbours do?" Yeosang glanced up from the documents, of course San had blocked the funds for the marketing department, this man's sulking was affecting his work ethic too- by work ethic, he meant how he was holding Yeosang's big marketing plans.

"Hmm? Oh yeah...I guess, why?" he asked still reading through the other proposals, not really thinking about it or her. Honestly, he had assumed she would've tapped out within a week, though this past month he was impressed by her persistence. Some days he'd just step foot outside to find her standing in front of her own door, holding onto her handbag, only to smile at him. How on earth was she able to pull off the heart-stopping smile early in the morning? He still didn't know how, he'd just nod silently, sometimes mumbling a good morning, but his lips wouldn't quirk up the slightest.

She'd followed him silently, usually not speaking unless spoken to, but he could sense that she had many stories to tell, but perhaps his heart was already too full, sinking into this blue and her stories and words would just ruin any chances he'd have to stay afloat. Hence, they'd only exchange pleasantries when he'd see fit, but he'd thank her, every time he'd drop her and she'd ask him to stay for a minute, only to run inside with her things and come back running with a coffee and a paper bag. Each day it would comprise of something new, and she'd just say it's her trying new recipes, though she never made the coffee, it was made by him, someone named Jongho, he didn't know much about Jongho, only that he played a vital role in her life- so she had someone too, even if potential. And for once he was glad to have kept his walls up high as he had, though this silent pitter patter of his heart, from every time she'd smile at him annoyed him, every time she whispered before closing the door, " Have a good day, Mr.Choi", it just made the pound of flesh in him shiver with an unwanted excitement.

"San?"

"Huh?"

Clicking his tongue, Yeosang leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms as he scanned the man across the table. His shirts were pressed to the crisp, his usual four-in-hand tie knot, now a full-blown Windsor knot, he'd brought back the waistcoat as well, a choice that was long discarded and his hair, gelled back to perfection—definitely just neighbours. 

"What~" he whined, slumping against the chair, almost like a child throwing a fit, a side only Yeosang would see, usually he'd mock him, but he knew San got like this when he was bound by one of his man internally conflicts, which is why he chose to keep the observation to himself and nod at the clock, "Your neighbour must be waiting, it’s almost time."

"What- oh yeah." nodding he quickly grabbed his things, slinging his bag over his shoulder, almost out the door before he stopped and turned around, "Yeo?"

"Hmmm?"

"Re-evaluate and send in the budget again."

"F*ck you, Choi."

.

"So..." she asked, looking around the interior of his car, "Nice car." Must've cost a lot is what she wanted to say next, but knowing him, he would've asked her to get out at that very moment- incorrect, Choi San couldn't even glare at her properly, let alone tell her to walk home.

"Thank you..." he mumbled, driving onto the main road, not really knowing how to continue the conversation, Yeosang would've made fun of him, telling him he couldn't even do 'small talk', but it's not like he had much in common with her, other than working near each other and living in the same building, on the same floor.

"I uh...thank you for dropping me home." she tried to push onto the subject, maybe he'd talk to her if she pestered him, that's how she had gotten Jongho to become her friend- not the best tactic, but it had worked once, why wouldn't it again?

"No problem." his responses were short, again, not out of malice, he just didn't know what to say to her, with his sister, it usually comprised of him being a baby to her or her bossing him around but that was different, they were siblings, they could argue about stupid things and get over it, but with her- she was...different, she was soft, she was sensitive and delicate, like a butterfly on a flower. Though she'd be one of those he'd avoid, not wanting to fall into its beauty and grace, too distracted to take note of the world around him. No longer was he willing to fall, or at least imagine to do so.

Parking the car he cleared his throat, waiting for her to move, but he was greeted by silence. What the hell- he turned to find her asleep, hugging her purse close, leaning against the door. 

If this was extremely dangerous and careless of her, he might have found it cute- why on earth- HOW COULD SHE JUST FALL ASLEEP LIKE THIS? What does he do? Does he tap her shoulder? Shake her? Wouldn't that be touching her without consent? Should he call her by her name? Yes, he should, and with that intention he had turned to her once more, only to notice the small frown etched on her features, she looked.... tired.

Jerking awake she sat up properly, blowing the hair out of her face, blinking around, where- was she in the car? Whipping her head to look at the driver's seat she found him sitting there, tying away on his phone, his hair a bit dishevelled but everything else was pristine about him, as it was in the morning. His face was illuminated by the blue light, only accentuating his sharp features, to this day she wondered how someone like him would even bother talking to her.

"Good morning" he turned to look at her, catching her mid-stare, as she choked on her words, about to blurt out an apology but he cut her off, "Don't apologise, it’s something I did by choice, anyway, I got through with most of my emails for the day now so that's good. " He locked his phone before finally switching off the car- he was wasting gas for her? "Did you rest well?" 

She could only nod at his question, as he got out and closed the door, she clumsily followed after clutching onto her things as he made his way to the elevator, locking the car, the beep echoing across the parking lot.

He held the doors open for her, waiting for her to run in as she placed her handbag down, turning to him with a pout, only to be met by a frown- was he angry? Of course, he was, but he did say he stated by choice so why did he-

"Do you realise how dangerous that was? Falling asleep in someone else's car?" his words were direct, cold to the brim, "It's extremely foolish. Just because we know each other doesn't mean you can do that! We're just neighbours, nothing more and even if we are carpooling this isn't safe. Would you do the same in an Uber or a bus? Do you realise this is just carelessness? It's just not how you live in the city or elsewhere for that matter-" he spat, turning to meet her with an intense glare, only to lock eyes with a misty pair, pausing when she dipped her head, "I'm sorry, I know. " 

"I-I'll be careful next time. Mr.Choi." whispered, her fingers gripping the leather of her bag, he was right, they were just neighbours, nothing more, nothing less, more importantly, this formal arrangement of carpooling was only temporary, maybe she should just take the bus from now on. Jongho was wrong, she wasn't mature enough for this, and she couldn't do this on her own, her fiancé was right, she was childish and clumsy, a little girl living in a fool's paradise at best, too used to being a daddy's little princess. 

San watched her walk out of the elevator, though he was too petrified to say anything, his own reaction had confused him. Why was he so upset? He was the one who let her sleep? It wasn't like him to raise his voice like this, especially at someone he would compare to a butterfly. What was wrong with him? He was never this bitter. Just like that, he watched her walk into her apartment, the soft click signalling her to lock it. No, he did not receive the usual "Goodnight Mr.Choi."

But then again, did he deserve it? With a heavy sigh, he closed the door, staring at his empty apartment, feeling...guilty? Well, he did just...it wasn't wrong but...groaning in defeat he turned around and walked out of his apartment slamming the door shut behind him.

.

 Pushing up her glasses she frowned at the screen, what kind of schedule was this, all the buses left before sunrise, way before San would even leave, and they’d leave later as well. In addition to those issues, the bus wouldn’t drop or pick her up near the café, the bus stops were around five blocks away from the shop. Groaning she slammed the lid shut, what if she just walked every morning? Maybe she shouldn’t have moved here, leaving her comfort zone, forcing Jongho along with her- he was a fool, he’d always had too much faith in her and that had always been the problem. At this point, she had once again wasted her parents’ money and potentially risked Jongho’s life savings too.

With a heavy sigh, she picked up the laptop and placed it on her desk before coming back to bed, laying back down as she stared up at the ceiling, letting her sullen thoughts lull her to sleep. Only to sit awake when the doorbell rang, looking around her room before it rang again, groaning she laid back down and covered her ears, waiting for it to stop. And it did, much to her pleasure, only the next thing to ring was her phone, she slammed her hand around for it and picked it up without checking the ID, “Jongho I swear if you’re calling me because you have a new brew idea, I’ll stab you with a spork.”

For a second she was met with silence, causing her to pull back and squint at the caller ID, before gasping and pressing it against her ear, “Mr.Choi I’m so so-“

“Sorry? Mhmmm…I know, so am I, please open the door so I can do so formally.”

That night, was the first time she had received a formal apology from a corporate worker, one with a proper 90-degree bow, followed by a soft apology. She opened the door to find him standing there tall before doing so, standing back up and showing her a bag, “I hope you like Chinese takeout.”

“I do.” With that she moved to the side, thanking God that she had cleaned her apartment the day before, asking him to make himself comfortable as she set the table. That night Choi San finally decided to learn a bit about her, not too much, he didn’t want to get involved in anything other than carpooling, this dinner was just a mere apology for his sudden outburst anyway. He looked around the lounge, the comfortable sofa was different from his, well most of this place was, it had colour, little trinkets that represented who she was, by the window were some succulents, but there was no television to be found, weird.

Once the table was set the two began to eat quietly, that is until she began, “You didn’t have to get dinner Mr Choi, and it's too much-

“I did.” He cut her off, clearing his throat to continue, “I…my outburst was uncalled for, I know it may seem confusing, but I wasn’t upset that you fell asleep, I was …concerned for your safety, I know you just moved here…but I…” he trailed off, especially at the way she was looking at him, like a kid staring at superman, he felt small under her intense stare, no, he wasn’t who she thought he was, he was no saint, he was no saviour, he was no one special. Shaking off the feeling, he mumbled, trying to change the topic, “Why did you move here anyway?” This was a bad move, he had asked something personal, he should’ve just asked her how he liked it here or how was work going, this question just meant that the answer would get him inside for her life, insight, he perhaps could function without.

Unfortunately, after a few stories in he was hooked, the finance director was up till midnight, not because of his work, no, because one story led to another and he listened intently, letting her do all the talking, perhaps because he wanted her to feel as if she was heard, or perhaps her story sparked some form of joy.

"Lee Soohyuk?" he choked on his lettuce wrap, thanking her when she handed him a can of soda. Gulping it down before clearing his throat as he looked at her, watching her clean her side of the table with a tissue, she was done eating. Or was she not eating in front of him?

"The...the famous corporate lawyer? Damn, I've seen him...once? Twice I think." he blinked at her, noting how she had gone quiet before he gave her a small smile, "He's not that smart you know...he was also wrong." 

"What?" she paused her cleaning session to look at him, "He wasn't though, he was right Mr.Choi, I'll always be my parent's little princess, I can't even function alone, I dragged Jongho in this and lord forgive how his dad invested in med school for him and he ended up becoming a barista because of me- I couldn’t even afford a place of my own- I'm still living in an apartment owned by my parents!" slamming her hands on the table she glared at the food, "He was right, I was useless and immature then, I'm equally useless now, other than Jongho now I depend on you - which I won't I promise I'm looking for a solution but the schedule and drop points are so chaotic and-" her words caught up in her throat, being pushed down by a sob as she slumped back in her chair, pressing her palms over her eyes, no crying, crying is for the weak, for those who are spoiled, for those who give up. Too busy trying to think of what breathing exercises Jongho had taught her, she didn't know when he had come to her, until he placed a hand on her shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze causing him to peak up at him.

"Well, I don't know what you were like before...but...I won't say you're useless...Mingi was born here but he still rides his cycle here, and lives with a flatmate," pulling his hand away leaning against the table, stuffing his hands in his pockets- too much skinship is bad- "I... have you ever like managed your resources? Like do you have a plan? An agenda or something?" 

Shaking her head she wiped her eyes, sniffing like a little girl who got scolded, "I- I thought of buying this apartment from them....and then...then...I don’t know."

Nodding San smiled at her, "So you do have a plan. You just need some help figuring it out." reaching over for a tissue he plucked some out of the box before handing them to her, "Let's get your priorities organised first. Make a payment plan or something like that, your business started off well, which means you know how to work that out, you just need help in the...other stuff. Take a leap of faith."

"What if I... fall?"

'Then I'll catch you'. 

This is what he had wanted to say that night but chose to smile at her, telling her people learn from their mistakes, no matter how small. Fortunately, she had made a friend that day, one who would guide her through, one who also told her to forget about the bus schedule and that they'd still carpool. Unfortunately for him, he might have stepped into a boundary he was desperately trying to avoid. Either way, Friday night dinners slowly became a tradition, a place of dining alternating, a Friday at his and a Friday at hers- something that when he told Yeosang, all the prince-ly man did was stare at him before leaving the office without another word, ignoring San yelling at him,

"WE'RE ONLY NEIHBOURS! WHERE ARE YOU GOING?? YAH KANG YEOSANG!"

.

Cursing to himself he ran down the stairs, Yeosang's laugh echoing around the staircase, "It's not like you're late for a date!" he yelled only for San to turn and glare at him, stopping dead in his tracks, "I'm late to pick her up from work."

"Ah yes, because her being there makes traffic jams a bit more bearable!" he yelled from the end of the staircase laughing when San flipped him off while driving by.

She stood there, leaning against the ceramic pot, the guard didn't let her in, saying she had to mention who she was here to see and even though she had said Mr.Choi, she really didn't know which department he worked in, which is why she was asked to wait outside.

So, here she was, standing in the middle of the rain with her umbrella, staring at the cars zooming past her, the security guard inside the glass cabin giving her an apologetic smile once in a while.

Sighing she looked at her shoes, the pavement not doing much to stop the water from sliding onto the road. The pavement was getting busier too, most people just got free and as much as she loved the city, she wondered, at any given moment alone if this was a risk worth taking. A slight shove from a passerby had her stumble a few steps forward, stopping right at the edge of the pavement, not even a sorry was thrown in her direction.

She turned to glare at the woman running away in heels before a honk caught her attention, turning to spot the familiar car as it slowed down, the door opening for her as the driver moved back onto his seat, quickly she got in, making sure to close her umbrella and shove a plastic bag around it ungracefully, turning to smile at the driver, "hi-"

"Why are you here?" he spat, frowning at her before flicking on his blinker, "It's raining and I said I'll pick you up no? I didn't say you'd pick me up from work."

Sighing she shook her head, "Sorry Mr.Choi." She said that a lot, more often than either would like, it would make his heart clench every time and Yeosang would call him a bastard every time he'd mention this to him in his daily narratives.

"I- what I mean is...I was a bit late so I texted you, you didn't have to come all the way here and stand in the rain out on the street." his words softer than before, as he stopped at a traffic light, glancing at her from the rear-view mirror, watching her pout.

"I- my phone died...so I didn't know and, I was waiting but then when you didn't come...I was worried...about you so I came here and- "She was worried about him, something within him pulled at his heart, she was waiting for him? But before the feeling could settle in, her usual nonstop chatter began, shaking him out of his fever dream, "What's your department by the way, they wouldn't let me in! Said there were so many Chois! Did you know that!?? I mean Jongho is a Choi too, and then there Choi Minho- he's cute, I like him, I like Shinee...do you?"

"I...." unsure of which question to answer first he frowned before he began to drive shaking his head at her, "I’m the director of the finance department." he sighed earning a chuckle, side-eying her only for her to stop and clear her throat. He nodded at her, ignoring her first half of the statement, though the latter portion had the tips of his turning red.

"Sorry, that would just explain your expensive taste, Mr.Choi...would explain the Windsor knot too." 

.

She stood in front of his door, checking the time once more, it was almost seven and his car was still in the parking lot. Yes, she had run down the flight of stairs to check if he was still there. She had called him too but his phone was switched off so she did the next best thing, called Jongho.

"JONGHO-"

"It's seven- no, wait- listen your monstrosity it’s not even seven yet, what do you WANT." He yelled, causing her to pull the phone away from her ear, whining an apology.

"Mr.Choi won’t answer my calls or open the door what do I do??"

"My poor baby." he cooed at her in a taunting manner, "maybe you finally did to him what the pressure his job couldn’t."

"What? What do you mean?" she asked before deciding to take matters into her own hands.

"Corporate pressure was nothing compared to you, I'm sure he's at peace now-"

"OH, SCREW YOU, I'M IN." with that, she hung up, entered his apartment and marched towards his room- the only place in his apartment she hadn't seen. Knocking on his bedroom door she slowly peeked in, only to be met by a room filled with clothes lying around, the curtains drawn close and the heater on full blast. Stepping in, careful not to step on the clothes she walked over to a heap of blankets on the bed, resting her hand on it as she gently shook it, "Mr.Choi." 

The lack of movement just had her worrying even more, as she leaned closer pressing her ear against the cotton, hearing his laboured breathing, shaking her head she announced, "Mr.Choi, I'm gonna pull these off!" with that she ripped off the two- no three quilts he was cocooned in earning a gasp as he quickly sat up, hugging himself shivering in cold sweat.

He stared at her with surprised eyes, "W-what are you- shit, what time is it?"

"Forget what about the time, you're burning up." pressing her palm over her sweaty, warm forehead she frowned, taking in his flushed face, pushing his hair back so she could take a better look at him, then glanced down at his ...sweaters. 

"How many layers...."

"I was cold." he whined, closing his eyes when she carded her fingers through his hair, trying to fix his hair, basically pushing it out of his face, "Of course you are...I'm going to get you something to drink...probably do something else about the fever. You take off your ...layers until then, okay?" she asked tugging at his sweater, earning yet another uncharacteristic whine - or maybe this is who he really was, she was just used to him acting all strong and mighty.

"Okay," he mumbled before reaching for the blanket again only to slap his hand away. Pulling his hand away with a gasp he gave her an offended, traumatised look.

"No." was all she said before going over to turn off the heater and opening the window to let out the stuffiness, "I'll be back in ten minutes and I better see those off you, understood?"

Wow, since when did she become all assertive? He thought to himself but only nodded at her instructions, it had been a while since someone had actually put in the effort to take care of him. This is what a good neighbour would do right? He'd take care of her too, right? He had already helped her make a payment plan that she was using to buy off the apartment her parents owned, he had met Jongho too, a nice but horrible fellow, but one that could push her and keep her on track, much like San he believed in her, claiming that

'If they didn't get her engaged with a man six years older than her, she would've had time to grow. Soohyuk wasn't bad but he was 26 and she was 20, he had a set plan, and she didn't even know what she wanted to major in- I don't blame either of them, marriage isn't a business transaction.

He watched her leave the room, glancing at the handbag on his side table, he'd seen her grow though, a few more months and the apartment would be hers, plus the cafe was getting good traffic so there was no real issue there. Though Jongho did threaten him, reminding him of how influential she was even if she wasn't on her parent's payroll anymore, any funny business would mean his career was over.

Slowly he began to take off the layers just doing what she had asked then falling face forward on the pillow, listening to the clinking of the pots and pans.

She arrived back to him with a tray in hand, for a busy man she always marvelled over how clean his kitchen was, but then again he did remind her now and then how cleaning was a good way to destress. Starting at the sweaters on the floor, the ones he had discarded because of her instructions- guessed the cleaning was only limited to the kitchen.

Shaking her head as she made her way through the maze of blankets and clothes, she placed the tray on his side table, slowly pushing her bag off the table. Sliced fruit and lots of water, followed by some Advil. He wasn't shivering anymore, so that was good, "Mr.Choi!" Turning to him she smiled, "Have some break...fast-" Good lord that some back, like that, was...wow.  

"What?" pushing up on his hands he turned his head to look at her only for her to cover her face, with her hands squeaking, "WHY DID YOU TAKE OFF ALL YOUR CLOTHES?"

Scoffing he sat up, his headache just adding to his bratty attitude, "Because you yelled at me too and I'm still wearing my pants." Why was she being like this, she was so mean, she even left the window open, he was so cold, his neck and shoulders hurt and it was all because of that damn window, "My shoulders are killing me because of the window you left open too!"

"I-" Lowering her hands she looked at him, sitting on his knees, staring at her with a pout, what a man-child.

"First of all, sit properly, and eat, have the medicine it'll help with the pain and" Bending down she picked up a discarded shirt, handed it to him, "Window stays open or you take a cold shower."

That was all it took for the big boy to sit there, eating his sliced apples, which were never-ending, until he realised, she was slicing up even more, and an Advil later he began to come back to his senses, clearing his throat as he tried to roll his shoulders to ease the discomfort, which ended up being futile.

"I'm sorry for not informing you, I think I switched off my phone after sending in my sick leave." sighing he leaned back against the pillows, shaking his head when she was about to cut another apple, "Please. I'm full."

With a pout, followed by a suspicious glance she nodded, placing the fruit back down and taking his empty plate off his lap. Leaning closer she pressed her hand on his forehead, he was still warm but it was better than before mumbling, "It's alright, Jongho can handle stuff better than me anyway."

Letting out a soft chuckle, his fingers gripped her wrists gently, pulling her hand away from his skin, "That's funny, I remember him telling me how he desperately needs you to deal with all the customers and manage stuff," he whispered, only then realising how close the two were to each other, with her leaning on the bed, her knee pressing onto the mattress next to his leg, "I can see that you really can." 

"I..." averting her gaze she mumbled a thank you before asking, "How's the pain?" slowly pulling away as she sat back down, but his fingers still held onto her, though he didn't notice, he was holding onto her, as if she was grounding him to reality, or some form of happiness that he did not want to let go, at least not now. She however noticed this new profound clinginess and she'd be lying if she were to say she didn't like it, this feeling of being wanted, of being important and valued.

"Hurts." pouting he leaned back against the pillow, closing his eyes like that would turn off the headache, his thumb mindlessly caressing her skin, "Shouldn't have picked up those stupid weights...Jongho did this on purpose."

"JONGHO?"

His grip tightened when he winced at her tone, shooting her glare for which she quickly apologised, before pestering him, glad she was wearing pants as she pulled her hand away and moved closer to him, standing on her knees on the bed beside him, gripping his shoulders, "Mr.Choi, please tell me. What has he told you?"

"N-nothing." he cleared his throat, trying to scoot away but her grip on his shoulders tightened, fingers digging into the muscle, causing him to let out an involuntary moan before she completely pulled away, "I- I’m sorry did that hurt."

Groaning he hunched over, shaking his head, "No, no, it felt good...sorry." Rubbing his neck, he looked at her, taking in her flushed features before sighing, "I uh...Jongho and I go to the gym together...he asked because he wanted to go too, I already go there with a friend from work...don't worry your secrets are safe with him."

Nodding at his statement she stood up and moved pointing at the chair she was sitting on, "Sit." 

Raising an eyebrow, he looked at her, narrowing his eyes, glaring at her, almost playfully. Taking a few moments for her to get all nervous causing her to clear her throat, "I- I mean I can massage your shoulders, I- Jongho uses this oil, uses me like a free massage person too for his neck and-"

Raising his hand, he stopped her, slowly getting off the bed with a groaning sitting down as instructed before glancing at her, "Just don't strangle me, okay? He did mention how you have the death grip of a man."

If she weren't too distracted by the sight of him following her orders, she would've jumped down the window. Taking a deep breath, she pulled the oil out of her bag, yes, she carried that around in case Jongho pulled something like the old man he was.

Once she began working on his neck, fingers pressing into the knots he bit his lip, trying to hold in the sounds that were about to burst through, if this was the privilege Jongho got for being her best friend, he'd sign up too.

For about ten minutes she went on with her usual routine, only to stop when his head fell back against her belly, going limp her hold- Oh. He had fallen asleep. She stood there, holding onto his slouching form, taking in his relaxed features. She hadn't seen him this relaxed before, he almost looked...too cute. Speaking of cute, she had learned many things about him today, from how he was actually just as whiny as he pretended not to be, to how he ate almost 5 apples before stopping, she did notice how his fridge was mostly empty other than having eggs, and leftover take out. Maybe they should have more dinners together, maybe she could cook actual homemade food for him.

Slowly helping him up, he drowsily mumbled something before falling onto the bed, as she tucked him in. Glancing at the time she sighed, she'd spent most of the day here, giving him one more look she reached for his hair, brushing it out of his eyes, "Rest well Mr.Choi."

The next morning San woke up better than ever, he knew the fatigue was getting to him but he didn't stop, he probably had forgotten how to stop. That would explain why he fell sick, but who knew he lived right next door to an angel? What surprised him more was how his entire room was clean, all his clothes were neatly folded and stacked in one place, blankets folded at the edge of his bed and the water bottles no longer littered around. She really didn't have to do so much. 

Picking up his phone he checked his messages, opening hers first before Yeosang's or Mingi's

'Hope you're better now Mr Choi. Advil is on the console and I restocked your apples. Don't worry, I went to work myself today, like a big girl. You get some rest.'

Smiling at her message he leaned against the pillow, yeah, this is exactly what neighbours do.

.

"A car?"

"Yes, a car." he sighed, turning the laptop to her, "You can get one on loan, I can fix you up with a good payment plan." he smiled at her, only to frown at the way she was frowning at her lap, "What's...wrong?"

"I- No I- thank you, it really does mean a lot." she cleared her throat, trying to control her expression, he was tired of her, he had to be, "I just...are you- I mean if you feel our routine is taxing then-"

Shaking his head he closed the laptop, turning fully to face her own couch, she was sitting on his very expensive couch, crushing the very expensive cushion in her lap, but it was okay, because it was her, and this time, the after work hours, a few hours before would fall asleep had become their time, where she would go on and on about stuff, only for him to add in a few bits- not because he wasn't interested but because he wanted her to speak, he wanted her to be heard, that and he was still too afraid that if she were to find out he was but from a simple background, from a small town like Namhae, she might never come back here. He wanted to watch her grow, he wanted to watch her business grow and bloom into what she had dreamt for it to be, he wanted to help her and this was a way of helping her.

"It's not...taxing. But...you need to" Pausing to take a moment to think, he noticed how her nails were digging into the leather, shaking that thought away he sighed, "You need to be independent, I'm not saying we change our routine, but you should lax yours, you don't have to leave at 6 am every morning and you don't need to come back home at around 8 or 9. Like you couldn't go when I was sick and then took the bus." he paused, taking in her appearance, only to find her pouting at the TV - yes, he had her buy a TV too because he refused to believe watching stuff on your laptop was better than the TV, though just like every other day she'd come over and watch his TV instead saying it's boring to watch TV alone. Reaching for the remote he paused the movie, to get her to only focus on him, having her look at him, "Like I was saying, a car can help you fix that and what if you need to collect your packaging or go buy fresh produce from the farmer's market? You can't always take a cab, it's not safe- you're earning well enough, I'm not saying buy one because of me, I'm saying buy one because it's your need, you shouldn't depend on anyone, not even me."

Clearing his throat, he met her soft, warm eyes, watching her stare at him intently, before blinking slowly at looking at the laptop, her grip on the cushion loosened,

"I like...the red one."

.

"A car? I- is this 4-year plan? SAN NO." Yeosang stared at the spreadsheet before turning to San who was calmly sipping on his warm cup of coffee, the logo bright enough for Yeosang to roll his eyes, "Listen, lover boy, I get your head over heels for her, but this is a stupid idea, four years with the same car, four years and she's still paying it off- what if she wants to change the car??"

"Yeosang, she's not big on change, and four years max, the payment plan is flexible in terms of quotas she can pay, knowing Jongho he’ll make her pay it all off within two years maximum." he said as he placed his cup down, leaning against his swivel chair, earning another groan from the man across the table, "Man, just buy her a car then."

"No."

"WHY NOT"

"Because she has to learn."

"And you need to grow a pair, big enough to tell her you like her."

"I don't like her." he sighed rolling closer to his desk to turn on his laptop, eying Yeosang who looked at the papers once more, "No, you do not like her...you convinced her to buy a car, made an entire payment plan for her and told her the initial deposit fee was waved off even though YOU paid it- you don't like her my friend," standing up the marketing director walked to the door of the office, turning to glance at his friend with one final smirk before leaving, "You're in love with her."

.

"Jongho, can you get me more napkins?" she called out to the man who was busy singing in the kitchen, at this point she could just ask him to get himself recorded, she was sure Hongjoong wouldn’t say no to either of them. Rush hour was about to start and for that, she needed to prepare, even if the business was booming, they were still short-staffed, and Jongho’s lack of people skills was dragging the interview session longer than she had anticipated. Though she was partially to blame, she was often too preoccupied with work and then well… a certain suited man, from the car ride home to the apartment, to dinner. They had begun to have dinner together more frequently, she often cooked as well, the first time she took a homecooked dish to his place he almost cried at dinner, excusing himself to go to the kitchen for more ‘napkins’, though from the faint sniffing from the kitchen and how long he took there had her believing her suspicions were right, once he looked at her with puffy eyes. Though she never said anything, smiling at him like she always did, for once feeling as if she wasn’t falling behind, cupid could walk right by her and she wouldn’t mind, her heart was already on a platter for someone else, she was just waiting for him to realise this little fact. So, she too, was too busy to even go through the files, but one of these days she’ll definitely get back to it.

The little chime of the bell had her look up from the counter, smiling at the customer only to almost drop to her knees at the man who had walked in- no, he was a fairy- could men be fairies? An angel? No, what on earth was this creature, his face holding the same innocence of an angel, but when he spoke, it was as if she heard the grumble of a dragon- damn. Shaking away her thoughts she smiled at him, greeting him as he stepped closer, oh how she loved men in suits- or rather just one man, with the cute Windsor knot, she noticed how he’d changed it from his usual ones.

“I’ll have whatever you like.” He smiled at her, before looking around, “This place new?”

“Yes, Sir, it is, may I ask if you have any allergies?” she asked before punching in a combo number, to which he shook his head.

“Cash or card?”

“What does Mr.Choi use?”

“What?” she froze, looking up from the monitor to meet his smirk, well, that was new, “I’m sorry, what was that sir?”

“I said card.”

With that she quickly swiped his card, asking him to wait for a while until she came to him with his order. Yeosang wanted to tell her who he was, but the way she stared up at him like a school girl caught slipping a note in her crush’s locker forced him to stop himself, she looked almost too innocent to bully like that- perhaps he should leave the teasing for San instead.

.

You should've gotten the latest model." the man stormed into his friend's room, earning a look of surprise, leaning right to spot his secretary raise his hands in defence, Mingi was always so useless at times like this.

"Dude, in a meeting." he sighed gesturing at the muted call, only for Yeosang to snort, roll his eyes and sit down cross-legged across the man, sipping on a cup of coffee, "I cannot believe you let someone like that wait in the rain for you," he mumbled as soon as San joined the call once more, back to business.

"What-" he looked up from the screen to glare at the brunette pausing at the cup, oh, "Oh you went-

"Of course, I WENT- I had to check her out okay and I- you really are a d*ck, she isn't slow-witted at all, she's just cute. That's how girls are, not that you'd know you simpleton."

"San your mic isn't muted" They heard a chuckle only for him to panic and Yeosang to choke on his coffee, both men apologising to their boss who just laughed it off- luckily the meeting was being held during the break, which meant this conversation could happen since they were off the clock for a while.

.

Much like any other day off, San had decided to do his basic house chores, and since his neighbour now had her own car, he didn’t need to worry about that today which was good, because he really did need to clean up. With the trash bag in hand, he walked out of his apartment, only to stop and stare at the figure hunched over by the elevator, what the- oh wait what?

 Jogging over to her he tapped her shoulder, “Are you okay?” placing the back down he crouched down to get a better look at her face, only to frown at her pained expression, “What’s wrong?”

“N-nothing, just came back from the doc’s.” she sighed before slowly straightening back up, giving him a faulty smile, “All’s good Mr.Choi….cleaning day today?” she mumbled, changing the topic as she made her way to her apartment, not really giving him any time to answer.

She was almost in bed when she heard the front door beep open, man, she shouldn't have shared the passcode. Nonetheless, she walked back out to find him standing there in her hallway, frowning at her before marching towards her, "What happened? Why were you at the doctor's?" 

"I'm fine, just a bit sick I-" pausing her eyes clenched shut, whimpering as she held onto her stomach, trying to breathe out the pain. 

"That's it, we're going to get you checked again." he declared, grabbing her wrist before she snatched it away, "NO! Leave me alone." He blinked at her, taking in the sudden outburst, somewhat offended, did he overstep a boundary? Scanning her pale face he noticed the way her lower lip trembled, was she...going to cry?

"Please..."

That was all it took for Choi San to leave, not forcing her for anything. If she wanted to be alone, fine, she'd be alone, but she didn't need to yell at him like that, and then cry, that just confused him. Maybe she was offended that he came in even though she clearly tried to avoid him, but...they'd usually just walk into each other's apartments like that, that wasn't new. His phone ringing was what had him stop the brooding session, picking up the call,

"Hey."

"You need to help your stupid neighbour."

"I...well she told me she wanted to be alone Jongho, I think she's sick but won't go to the doctor," San mumbled, a bit too desperately. 

"That..." he could practically see Jongho roll his eyes at him, "Because it's that time of the month."

"What time of the month?"

"Choi San, do you have a sister?"

"Yeah, why?"

".... she on her period man- look, I called you because we cancelled all the interviews for a new hire today but this one moron won't listen and I know he's going to go to her place so you gotta tell her."

"WAIT WHAT- she was in so much pain though." no wonder she wanted him to leave, no wonder she yelled at him and then began crying.

"Mhmmm...kay bye".

"JONGHO WAIT-" he looked at the phone and sighed, this man just wanted him to lose his mind, nothing else. He'd do this to him often, even at the gym. Like when he'd be lifting weights, that one time when San accidentally dropped a dumbell on his foot when Jongho casually told him, "Did you know she's in guys with nice butts, and apparently when I stare at a lady with a nice butt for a while, she calls me a pervert." Or the time he almost lost his footing on the treadmill while running, Jongho who was casually standing next to him, staring at his reflection through the mirror, "Glad she hasn't seen your arms, she has a thing for being put in a WWE style headlock." yet, here he was telling her that her secrets were safe with Jongho.

.

She felt someone tap her shoulder, her soul almost left her body, her scream muffled by his palm as he held her down, "It's me, it's me..." he whispered, pulling away slowly as she sat up, grabbing a pillow and smacking him with it, repeatedly, "WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT!"

Clicking his tongue, he snatched it out of her hand and glared at her, though he wasn't angry, his annoyed expression just confused her even more when he pointed at a brown paper bag he had placed beside her. His face flushed as he averted his gaze, clearing his throat, "Jongho said...someone's coming for an interview. This has...stuff for you...I don't know what you particularly use, so I got...most of it."

"What do you mean, I cancelled the interviews and what did you bring for me-"

The doorbell cut her off, her eyes widening in disbelief, no, did Jongho really give her address? She was fighting with the blanket, trying to get it off her when he stopped her, gently pushing her back to lay down, "It's fine...I'll interview him."

He was about to leave but she gripped his wrist, "No, Mr.Choi it's fine, you've done more than enough-"

"You took care of me last time." he smiled at her before taking something out of the paper, "Now let me take care of you." placed the item in her lap he rolled his eyes when the bell rang again, leaving the room. 

What in the name of everything did Jongho tell him? She looked at the chocolate bar, it was her favourite, and she had only mentioned it once, oh my god, did he know she was on her period? Snatching the bag from the edge of the bed she turned it over, its contents falling all over the place. Good grief.... this man...he had gotten her every product he could find. Napkins, tampons, he even bought her heating pads, and other pain medicine, by the time she was done counting the things he had gotten her she was already crying, ugly sobbing at best.

San went to the door, opening it to be greeted by a man with sharp eyes. Technically, his overall appearance was sharp, from his features to his suit- was he really wearing a suit? The only thing about him that seemed remotely soft was his hair, though he looked like a fresh graduate so why apply to a cafe, that too one that was a new seed in the market?

"Good afternoon. Is Ms.L/N here? My name is Jung Wooyoung, I had an interview appointment with her-"

"At the cafe but they were cancelled." San cut him off, leaning against the door as he tried to stare down the shorter man.

Wooyoung stared at the man in sleeveless sweatpants, who was he? Husband? Boyfriend? Some annoying friend? He could pick a fight with him, but then he needed this job, really did.

Clearing his throat, he nodded, before bowing, "I apologise for the intrusion but I thought my eagerness may have a positive impact." 

San stared at him, the perfect 90°, he'd seen that before, many times, he'd been there before too. He knew the feeling, the anxiety and dread that accompanied it, the desperation to finally achieve something. Finally, put the years and money spent on education to use.

"It's...fine, come in."

That's how Wooyoung found himself sitting on a brightly coloured couch, looking around, though he saw no signs of masculinity anywhere, so her boyfriend didn't live with her. He knew his way around the place though. Who was going to interview him though?

San walked out of the kitchen with a tray of tea, placing it on the coffee table as Wooyoung thanked him, getting up to take his mug. No, everything was too feminine so does this mean- what if this dude was a serial killer? Oh my god!?! Did he KILL HER AND IS NOW GOING TO KILL HIM? IS THIS COFFEE POISONED?? Slowly bringing the mug to his nose, sniffing it.

San raised a brow at him, what on earth was this psycho doing? He was about to ask when they heard something crash, instantly getting up he turned to leave, pausing for a moment to loom at Wooyoung, "I'll be right back, please stay here."

Oh my gosh, he was a killer! Wait, she was still alive! He could help her? What should he do? Think Wooyoung, think! Standing up he walked down the same path he did, peaking through the door left ajar.

San frowned as he picked her up, ignoring her whines, "What exactly were you doing?" he asked walking over to the bed, holding her in his arms as she covered her flushed face with her hands mumbling "The clock stopped working."

"Seriously?" quirking a brow at her he stopped walking, looking at her then at the bed, stuff scattered across it, files, pens and her laptop, "Didn't I tell you to rest?"

"I was but then I heard Mr.Jung and I wanted to read his file," she explained, leaning against his chest, mentally noting how he was holding onto her like she weighed lighter than a feather.

He clicked his tongue in protest, about to talk about how he'd handle it but the door burst open, a Mr.Jung stomping in, holding an umbrella in hand, "UNHAND HER YOU PERVERT!"

She flinched when the door slammed open, squeaking as she hugged him close, burying her face in his shirt, arms wrapped around his neck, curling into him as if he'd protect her. On the other hand, San stood there rooted at the spot, at first he was confused as to what Wooyoung was even doing until he noticed the faux bravery morph into some form of fear, his panic setting in.

Wooyoung stood there, umbrella in the air, taking in the sight before him, a man carrying a woman bridal style...oh shit they were together. Please did he Wooyoung himself again?

.

"I am so sorry Miss-"

"It's alright." she cleared her throat, never in her life did she think she'd interview someone whilst being in her pyjamas, the little hearts printed on her shirt and pants. Next to her San sat at a good distance, his face as red as the pot of a plant near the window, intently staring at the coffee table, not even listening to the two converse- he wasn't carrying her around for fun! He was just helping her! She fell off the stool because of the stupid clock and- and her back hurt so his brain just...picking her up was easier and-

"Mr.Choi?"

"Hmm?" instantly turning to her, he regretted it as quick, taking in her soft gaze, almost wanting to crumble at the feet, shit, this wasn't good.

"I said I should hire Mr.Jung, right?"

"Uh...I guess?" he mumbled, discreetly glaring at Wooyoung when she began reading his credentials too, they were good, but managing to be a distinguished student in the country's best culinary school wasn't easy.

"I- I'm sorry for intruding Sir." he cleared his throat, if he had to kiss this man's pointy polished shoes to get this job he would, "I should've known you're her boyfriend, it was a lack of better judgement on my part." He paused to look up at him, only to find the man before him malfunctioning, then glancing at the woman who looked like she was swooning, almost awake inside a dream.

"We're just neighbours!" he blurted out, not liking how Wooyoung's neutral expressions morphed into the sassiest, most judgemental look of 'Nah, I don't think so', as he hunched over the table to take a better look at the two.

"I live next doo-"

"You're hired Mr.Jung, I'll see you tomorrow at work!"

.

"Wow, that's...kinda regret not being there to see it." Jongho hummed, taking out an apron and tossing it to Wooyoung who cleared his throat, "I mean, I didn't intend to make things awkward." 

"Sure man." was all Jongho said before patting him on the back, "But until she comes back to work, you're on counter duty, kitchen is off limits." with that he walked away, leaving the new employee to sigh in defeat, looking around at the empty cafe. Considering she was 'still sick' she'd left Jongho in charge but that man was too busy not interacting with customers and staying hidden in the kitchen, occasionally singing out loud- at least he could sing.

He stared through the glass doors, looking at the people passing by, everyone with a purpose, yet, here he was still trying to find his purpose. 

The doors opened and someone walked in, phone pressed onto his ear, his coat neatly folded in half, hanging off his other forearm, the buttons of his waistcoat fighting for their lives when the man heaved out a heavy sigh, "No Mingi, the report is supposed to be sent to Mr Park from the IT department, Park Seonghwa, send it to him and get back to me." A frown was permanently etched onto his face, brows knitted together as he pulled his phone off his ear and stuffed it in his pocket, only froze when he looked at Wooyoung.

The two just stood there staring at each other for a good ten seconds before Wooyoung cleared his throat and greeted him, "We can pretend nothing happened Mr.Choi."

Scratching his neck the businessman nodded, licking his lips out of embarrassment, "Yeah...sure"

"So, what can I get you, unfortunately, the menu still comprises of the usual since I'm not allowed in the kitchen till the boss lady comes." His professionalism impressed San, honestly, he did think the guy couldn't pull it off but he was glad he wasn't mentioning yesterday at all.

"Oh umm... Jongho knows I called him-"

"Yes, yes, no need to wet your expensive pants Mr.Choi." the kitchen door opened as Jongho walked out with two giant paper bags, San's eyes scanning the change of printing, somewhat proud she took his suggestion on investing in merchandise printing.

"Here's your usual, one for Princess Mingi and the other princess who lives next door." Placing the bags on the counter he smirked at the man, who cleared his throat, trying not to look at Wooyoung whose resting b*tchface was back, comprised of the look which San easily read, 'Nice to see a clown clowning himself.'

"So, aren't corporate breaks supposed to be like...40 minutes long?" Jongho asked, leaning against the counter as he sighed, "You gonna hurry there and back or you gonna eat with her-"

"I- she has to give paperwork for you that's why she called me, I had a half day anyway." He mumbled, quickly taking out his card that Wooyoung slowly took from him, side-eying the man, who was still mumbling excuses, though all Wooyoung could hear was "We're just neighbours".

Of course, they were just neighbours.

.

Shit. Of all the times his car decided to throw a tantrum, it was now. Not only did he leave work late but it was raining, so now, Choi San sat in his car staring at the empty highway, the streetlights his only companion. Clicking his tongue, he tried to switch on the engine again, trying to press on the gas, only for the vehicle to whine in refusal. Sighing he gripped the wheel, resting his forehead against it, sighing at the coolness of the leather. What could he do? Get a cab? No, no cabs would be around right now. Call Yeosang? No, he lived in the opposite direction, he would come to help him, but he knew the man had a presentation due tomorrow. He could…call her. He didn’t want to though; things had become a bit…awkward.

Truth be told he didn’t really want to admit it, but after the Wooyoung incident, he tried to pretend nothing happened and to his amazement, she did too, their routine was as normal as ever, conversations would flow easily, though she’d still do most of the talking. Until one particular Friday night when they were having dinner at her place, she told him she wouldn’t be carpooling anymore because she had finally gotten used to driving and needed to go to other places. Although he was proud, his smile indicating his happiness and joy to see her bloom into a beautiful flower, a nostalgic and heavy blue began to spread in his chest, weighing down on his appetite, as he slowly put down the fork, pushing the plate ever so gently and discreetly, looking at her intently when she began to show him the route she’d take to the market, asking him if it was good or if there was another route. Unfortunately, was too busy looking at her to even care, to even give an honest opinion, she was glowing that night, and he could bask in her warmth forever, but there was no such thing as forever, he knew that happy endings were nonsense, especially when it came down to him. So, after that night, he had slowly begun to distance himself, making sure to leave before she’d wake up and come back later than usual, texting would just comprise of him sending one-liner responses, and he’d even cancelled some of their dinners together saying he had to stay in the office late. Yeosang had asked him a few times about her, but all he’d say was that she was busy and he didn’t want to interfere- that was true though, it was he who helped her out with all the planning and the financial agenda, it was him who supported her endlessly, who pulled her back up to her feet when she’d be close to giving up- but that didn’t mean he wanted to watch her fly away from the front row seats, no, he’d rather see his swan take flight with grace and elegance from the sidelines, he’d be there, he’d always be there, but like her shadow, after all, he too was afraid of being hurt, he couldn’t handle it, not again, after all, they were just neighbours.

A tap on the window had him jerking back into sitting properly, blinking away the blurriness he turned to the window, eyes widening at the figure outside before lowering the window, “What are you-

“Need a ride?” she smiled, trying to conceal any other emotion bubbling within her, her grip on the umbrella tightening when she noticed his frown, not responding to her question, though she could see the questions swirling in his eyes, possibly at the tip of his tongue, but she knew he’d never ask, just keep them in, let them simmer into something else, probably guilt…or anger.

“I had to do a complete inventory check today so I closed up late. Was driving by and I saw your car…” gesturing towards her own car that was parked in front of his, the hazards blinking in the rain.

“My car…broke down.” He mumbled, before reaching for his bag and nodding at her, letting her move back before coming out of the car, waiting for the rain to pour down on his already defeated parade, but that didn’t happen, for she had extended her arm to full height, tilting forward so he was covered by it, letting the water splash onto her head instead. There she went again, worrying about him, trying to rip open the bag he was gripping onto tight, not wanting anything to spill out.

.

Patting the droplets off her she pulled out a few tissues and dried her hands. He sat next to her, buckled up, laptop bag on his lap, even though she had told him to put it on the backseat but he refused, holding onto it like a child throwing a tantrum. They’d been driving silently for a while, the only sound between them was of the rain slapping against her little red card.

“Thanks.”

“For what?” she asked, trying not to speed on the slippery highway, the rain had worsened, who knew a light shower was going to turn into a full-blown storm? The problem wasn’t the rain in general but visibility was becoming an issue, well, there was this third party between them, a form of invisible wall that was keeping the two apart, or rather he was being pulled away, while she just held onto him, trying to pull him back to her, though ever so slowly she could sense that he was letting go of her hand.

He never responded to her question, just continuing with the silent treatment. Sighing out of frustration she flicked the left blinker before slowly parking across the yellow line at the side of the road, before them the road was barely visible, she thought he’d question but he didn’t he wasn’t stupid, even though he didn’t want to be here, stuck in the same space as her, too afraid he’d blurt out all he had hidden, he knew even if he took the wheel instead of her, he couldn’t see through the rain. So, the two sat in silence, as if the other wasn’t there, one of the most awkward the two had been with each other like they were strangers all over again. That is until she finally decided to take matters into her own hands,

“Are you…upset with me?”

He looked up from his lap to her, a small pout present on his lips before shaking his head and turning back to stare at his lap.

“Do you…not want to be friends with me anymore?” she knew these questions were somewhat pointless, in the time they had spent together she had learned one thing, that he was rarely bothered by her, in fact sometimes he’d go out of his way to make her feel better, make her feel safer, so what bothered her was not knowing what had he pulling away like this. She thought as she’d grown more independent, he’d be happy, proud of her progress, not this.

“No.”

Was all he said, not even bothering to look at her, instead choosing to take out his phone, maybe he could just check on work or- he couldn’t though, because she snatched it out of his hand. His head whipped in her direction, and a glare followed, “Give it back.” He spat only for her to shake her head and shove it in the pocket of her, shaking her head.

“I said give it back. I’m not joking. I’m not in the mood.” Groaning he leaned closer to her, trying to reach for her pocket but she slapped his hand off his pocket, only for him to grip her wrist, trying to hold his anger at bay.

“Not until you tell me why you hate me!” she yelled tugging her wrist out of his grasp.

“I DON’T HATE YOU!” he yelled back, turning to her completely, his laptop bag falling off his lap, God this car for so small, he barely had leg room!

“THEN WHY ARE YOU PULLING AWAY!”

“BECAUSE I CAN’T STAND AND WATCH WHILE YOU LEAVE ME BEHIND!”

“I- she froze at his words, the weight of the statement settling in around them. Letting out a sigh he turned around, rubbing his face with his hands, trying to control his breathing, trying to stop his thoughts from running around, pushing and shoving every emotion he had buried in below. For a moment he even thought of stepping out in the rain to cool down, but the gentle grip of his shoulder stopped him.

“Mr.Choi please I would never leave you behind, I-

“Oh, stop it, would you.” He scoffed, brushing her hand off his shoulder, “I’ve known you for what? Six, seven months now and you still don’t call me by my first name, I- I literally use your name and you’re so impersonal that –

“I don’t know your first name.”

Once again, they were greeted with silence, at this point the sound of the rain was the only thing keeping the two from exploding at one another, a series of bottled-up feelings, emotions that were untouched for so long, that the layer of dust on them had turned into a sheet of sand, one that had obscured rationality and logic.

“What” Taking in a deep breath he began, “What do you mean?”

Rolling her eyes at him she huffed, “Because you never told me, not once, since the day I met you the only way I found out your last name too was because the security guard greets you as Mr.Choi, and he did that the first next you dropped me home.” Taking the phone out of her pocket she placed it on the dashboard in front of him, “I don’t know why you think I’d leave you; I now own the apartment next to you thanks to you, I have dinner with you almost every other day, I let you carry me around when I’m tired, I cook meals for you not because I am obligated but because I want to, I- I ask you for help all the time with the full confidence that you’ll never say no”, pausing she looked at the road, the rain had slowed, much like the whirlpool of unkempt emotions that were stirring between them, “ and if you haven’t realised by now, I’m not very big on change. So, no, Mr.Choi, I’m not going anywhere, anytime soon.”

“San” he whispered, staring at the road ahead, much like her, too afraid to even look at her, who knew all it would take was a confession like that to calm him down, put his worries to rest, untying the bag he had knotted up so well after he had his broken heart handed back to him.

“Nice to meet you San.” Was all she said before starting the car, now driving home, after the much fearsome, prolonged storm. No other words were exchanged, but unlike before, the silence was no longer awkward or heavy, it was pleasant, a new kind of pleasant, one that oddly enough he was welcoming.

The ride up the elevator was no different, the two were walking casually like nothing had happened, though San knew something had happened, and for some reason, the bitter-sweet reality of it made him want something more to happen, he was only looking for the right moment for it to happen.

She was about to enter her apartment when he called her out, causing her to turn around and almost bump into him, when had he come so close?

“I don’t want to be just neighbours anymore.”

Facing him properly she nodded looking up at him, “I see, then what do you want?”

“I…” averting his gaze he thought for a moment, wondering if he could jump into it, or take caution and slowly see where it goes, though the little critter in his chest was begging him to let loose, his rationality projected by his fears had him second-guessing almost every micro decision he had come up with in these seconds, “I…want…more?”

“Then,” pursing her lips together she narrowed her eyes at him, moving closer to see if he’d move back, but he didn’t, he stood there, staring at her intently, shy yet so curious, she’d barely ever seen him like this before, her lips curving into a smile, “Let’s take it slow?”

He nodded a bit too eagerly at her question, earning a chuckle from her, as she turned around and pointed inside, “Dinner? Though it’s late, I can make us something light?” He had followed her inside that night, somewhat nervous about starting a new chapter in his life, yet, excited like a little boy about to win a race.

.

“Mr.Choi, there’s uhh…there’s someone here to meet you?” Mingi’s voice blared out of the speaker causing San to stop typing, frowning at the time, it was 11 am he had no meetings for the day, so why would someone just pop up, Yeosang was on leave today as well so- the door opened and he could hear Mingi calling someone out, “Miss! Wait Mr.Choi hasn’t allowed you to-

“It's…fine Mingi.” He nodded at his assistant, before his eyes locked with her, her smile radiant as ever, as she coly made her way to his desk, “Hi San.” ‘San’, she’d been using his name more often now, all night even at dinner, she’d somehow slip it in every sentence and he’d somehow slip into that gooey pool of mush every time his name would roll off her tongue.

“You- you had a day off today, right? Do you want to spend time together, I-“ he stood up, quickly trying to clean his desk though she placed something on the empty corner of the glass table, “I just came to drop off your lunch San, I made special cookies today, and if you like them, we’ll introduce them, Wooyoung even decided a name for them.”

“Oh?” he asked, his eyes sparkling at the sight of the lunch boxes, a well-fed boy was a happy boy and he was so glad she’d feed him well, even when they were ‘just neighbours’. So, knowing she was still doing that, only adding onto the perk by coming to him and surprising him at work had something within him strangling his heart in joy, “What’s the name?”

“Well…initially it was something I wanted to talk to you about if you’d be okay if I call you that, but then he said we could name them after that, but I feel like only I should be allowed to call you that.” She cleared her throat looking around his spacious office, she never thought his office would be this big or high up for the matter, not a day went by where this man didn’t amaze him.

He stopped opening the boxes to look up at her, “What do you want to call me?”

“Sannie.”

.

Things had been great, well, somewhat, although they were ‘no longer neighbours’, there was still no official label and it confused San how she was alright with that. Sure, they’d spend more time together now, she’d drop by sometimes before lunch just to drop off his lunch, but he was still San at work, and only Sannie when the two were alone. Moreover, they’d never really been…physical. Not that he didn’t want to ‘do the deed’ or something- well, technically- no he did but, this isn’t what he meant, he knew they were taking it slow, but sometimes, he’d feel the affectionate Sannie resurface and it would take everything in his power to hold him back. What if she wasn’t into that? What if she thought he was clingy overbearing or too sensitive? Would she think he’s coming on too strong if he asked ‘what they were’?

“Sannie?” she asked, poking his shoulder, “You aren’t eating, don’t like the food or the movie?” Placing her plate on the coffee table she paused the film when he didn’t look at her, “Sannie…you gotta talk to me about these things, I can’t read your mind-

“Would you like to start a business venture with me?” In front of him was not her Sannie or San, no, turning to face her with a hard face and honest eyes was a man sitting up straight, hands pressed against his knees, it was Mr.Choi.

“Umm…I…like a collaboration?”

“Yes, of sorts.”

“I…I mean I don’t really need Jongho’s permission it is just my business.”

“It is.”

“I guess…but don’t you already have a job, San?” was he planning on quitting?

“I do, but this venture is more important, I prefer it over my job.”

“Sannie, my café is doing good, but quitting your job for it, especially at the designation you’re at it’s not logical-

“Be my girlfriend”, he yelled in frustration, cutting her off before meekly averting his gaze, “Please…”

“I…” she took a minute to think before scooting closer to him, his fingers digging into the material of his pants, though when she placed her hands over his, he visibly relaxed, “I just love how you’re so uptight Mr.Choi.”

She smiled, but he only frowned at that, why would she call him by his last name? Did he do anything to upset her? Was he perhaps moving too quickly for her liking? Or should he have been more romantic- actually this wasn’t really romantic at all, he can’t believe he just did that, he should’ve thought this through, he should’ve planned properly, it had only been a month and –

His brain switched off because of the sudden pressure on his lips, hands automatically reaching to hold onto the source, she was…kissing him? His eyes closed when she slowly moved closer, helping her onto his lap as he tilted his head to deepen the kiss, taking charge, until she slowly pushed him back, his back pressing against the sofa, eyes flickering open to meet her flushed face, a small smile gracing her lips, he had smudged her lipstick- nice.

“Do I…take that as a yes?” he sighed, body completely relaxed, his hands giving her waist a gentle squeeze.

“I don’t know, maybe we should seal the deal again?”

His chuckle echoed across the room, film and food long forgotten, the only thing he could focus on was her, and slowly, he began to feel as if the gates he was trying to keep closed were merely inches away from bursting open.

.

“We need to talk.”

“Um…okay, why are you slowly letting go of the weights- Jongho, Jongho, buddy, stop.” He wheezed, looking up at his spotter who was glaring down at him, “How serious are you?” he asked lifting the weights ever so slightly.

“FOR STAYING ALIVE, PRETTY SERIOUS- JONGHO!” he gasped when the man almost let go of the weight.

“Should we…stop them?” Wooyoung asked, yes, he too had become their newest addition to their gym buddies’ group, Yeosang who was walking on the treadmill beside him shrugged, “I don’t think so, this is between them, plus knowing San took a year just to confess to her, even though he was treating her like he was her boyfriend, I believe Jongho has every right to harass him.”

“I’m serious.” Jongho warned, glaring at the man who was not only turning blue but was now drenched in cold sweat, shaking his head and pleading out an ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

“I mean her, I’ve had to pick up the pieces once and I let it go because the guy wasn’t directly involved, but you- you son of a- you have her sitting at the café daydreaming about what you’d like to eat at night. You have her calling me at night asking me what shirt you’d think she looks best in? Would you prefer her in pants or a skirt- you have her working her ass off to make you proud and so help me God if you ever even think of hurting her-

Before he could finish his monologue San threw the weights off him, heaving as he stood up, wiping the drool off his mouth with the back of his hand as he stood up straight, his breathing heavy as he looked directly at Jongho, “Never. Do that. Again. And I may be a slow-witted loser but I am no abuser- and her” he turned to look at the hoodie on the opposite bench, a blue hoodie, there was nothing special about the hoodie, but the fact that it was the first ever gift she had given him, telling him she had a matching one, so they could wear it together at home, “I don’t even think I spend a single moment of my pathetic life where I can’t be thinking about her.”

By now Yeosang and Wooyoung had gotten off the treadmills and were standing on standby just in case things escalated, but San’s confession had them staring at him in awe. Well, Wooyoung was just glad that the clown had stopped clowning himself, but Yeosang, no, he was thrilled if not glad that San had finally accepted to let himself be happy once more, he had allowed himself to love once more- even if this was just the first stage, even if they were still going through their awkward relationship stages, he was just glad to know that things were getting better for San.

Jongho looked at him before nodding, then turning to point at the weights, “Throwing gym equipment is stupid, no wonder people like you who make so much money are careless.” Clicking his tongue at him he picked up his duffle bag, “Anyway, Shakespeare, Imma hit the showers, don’t forget she’s making you pasta tonight, so you better hurry up.” He left San standing there, letting his own speech process, slowly the seed had begun to germinate and deep down he knew, he was counting on it to turn into a field, one she could run around in, laughing with joy.

.

Sighing she slowly pulled away from him, being extremely careful of two things; firstly, to not wake him up and secondly to not cause any harm to his sheets. She didn’t want to stay at his place tonight, she even told him no because he had an early meeting tomorrow, and she was on her… period, so to sleep over with her new boyfriend and possibly leak on his pristine white sheets was not on the agenda, that and the fact that the cramps were hitting hard and her back was probably broken just made it more difficult for her to find the perfect position.

So, that’s how she found herself sitting on his couch, hoping to God that the pain medicine would start working soon, or maybe it could take a few hours and San could get a good night’s rest and by the time he’s about to wake up, she’d slip right back in and-

“Are you okay?”

“SHIT” throwing a cushion at him she whined, especially when it hit him square in the face, causing him to stumble back, pouting at her, “What did I do?”

“I’m sorry, Sannie, I- I’m fine I promise, I just couldn’t sleep and your sheets are clean and-

“Yes, I am aware my sheets are clean, so you don’t have to worry-

“That’s why I am worried,” she sighed only for it to turn into a groan as she hugged herself, trying to ease the pain. Oh, he looked at her, he’d seen this before, he knew what had happened, “Do you think I’ll find it weird if you…I mean…It's normal if it happens right?”

“It's gross.” She mumbled only for him to sigh and slowly reach for her arm, “Do you want me to carry you?” he asked as if it was completely normal, umm…it wasn’t technically? He’d just carry her around when she’d refuse to do something or when he was in his playful Sannie mood- which was often only behind closed doors when the suit didn’t define him.

“nO” Quickly getting up she motioned for him to walk first, “Why-“

“JUST DO IT” she yelled only for him to quickly turn around and head towards his bedroom, no need to piss off his girlfriend during that time of the month. Huffing out in frustration she ‘readjusted’ her pants, trying to reposition the horrid excuse of a lady diaper, no, she did not want him to see this scene, it was not even remotely attractive.

Sighing she laid down next to him, what she had forgotten was how much this man loved physical affection because as soon as she turned to face him, he pulled her closer, her face pressing into his neck as he rested his chin on top of her head, an arm under her head acting as his pillow and the other one securely wrapped around her waist. Now she needed to stay still, especially when she heard him snore, he had fallen asleep so quickly, of course, he was tired, the guilt slowly settling in. She really should have gone home tonight.

Her body jerked when a sharp pain shot across her lower half, her fingers gripping his shirt as she held her breath, trying to restrict extra movements. At this point she could just wither away in pain, waiting for the meds to work before she wakes him up and he throws her out for not letting him get a decent night’s sleep.

For a few moments, her little movements continued until he abruptly pulled away and wordlessly sat up, to reach for something on his nightstand, probably his phone- man, she should really apologise and leave now, but before she could make her way off the bed he turned around and stood on his knees, slowly pushing her to lay on her front, “Umm…San?”

“Your back hurts, right?” he mumbled, gently lifting her shirt to reveal some of the skin, “I hope this helps, my sister recommended it.” With that he began to rub the ointment on her lower back, trying to mimic the similar motions she’d use while working on his neck or shoulders from time to time- yes, he had finally obtained that perk. He only stopped when she completely relaxed under his touch, smiling when he realised, she was asleep, gently pulling her shirt back down he got off the bed, tucking her in, making sure to place a glass of water and a bottle of painkillers on the bedside. Little did she know that she had been in pain all night and not just a few minutes, she dozed off sometime in between only to wake up in pain again, though he had slept through most of it peacefully, which is why when he woke up, feeling her shiver in pain, he realised getting up a few minutes before his alarm rang wouldn’t be so bad, he could use the time to help her out, so while reaching for the ointment he had also shut off his alarm, knowing he wouldn’t be going to sleep once he helped her out.

.

“Ignoring you?” he asked, wiping another cup and handing it to her as she stacked it on the rack with a pout, “Well, not ignoring, he’s just…gone quiet like he’s giving me the silent treatment.” She explained, looking to see if Jongho, who was brooming was listening to them, only to find him staring at her, “Oh I don’t know maybe he’s upset about the fact that your ex-fiancé came here since you invited him?”

“Wait- WAIT WHAT?” Wooyoung gasped, turning to Jongho who nodded, “Soohyuk wanted to see her, and she won’t tell me why, she called him here and ironically he and San had entered at the same time, and instead of introducing him to Soohyuk she just talked to him and ignored San.”

“Man, I’m never gonna take an off again, so much drama in one day.” Was all Wooyoung had said, yet the poor boy got smacked with a tissue, before watching her stomp out of the café, leaving the two men staring at her confused.

“Umm…do we stop her?”

“Nah…” was all Jongho said, the only reason he even knew about this issue was because the moment he had seen Soohyuk enter he knew something was up, what he didn’t expect was for her to go to him instead of San, and ironically, she didn’t even introduce San, which confused him even more. The moment he had looked at the other man, he noticed the way his eyes had gone blank, void of any emotion, yet he could see the one hiding behind his eyes, he knew what he was thinking, one of the many things San had confessed to him about- once the two had become official and Jongho would keep tabs on him- was his fear of being left behind, knowing that one day, eventually everyone would leave him, even her. So, yes, when she had walked past the finance director like he was a mere stranger, he knew this would trigger San, he just didn’t know in which direction the river would flow.

A knock on the door caused the two to look up, Yeosang just sighed, “At this point, you should just fire Mingi.” Shaking his head at his friend San called out to the person, permitting them to enter, usually with the glass walls and door he could see who was on the other side, but for the past two days the blinds were lowered, concealing whatever was happening inside his office, much like whatever was happening inside his heart. The door opened to reveal someone he had been avoiding for the past few days, though he never said anything to make her leave.

Yeosang looked at San’s expression morph into displeasure, turning in his seat to find the man’s significant other standing there, quickly standing up he smiled at her, greeting her before excusing himself.

Honestly, she was surprised by Yeosang’s reaction, she thought he’d be upset with her, Jongho was upset with her and considering Yeosang and San were good friends, she presumed that San might’ve just told him about the issue, though maybe he didn’t or maybe he did and Yeosang is just very good at pretending.

“You could’ve called.” Was all he had said until he found her standing right next to him, her hands gripping onto the armrests of his chair, turning his swivel chair to face her, his eyes widening at the proximity, they were still at his workplace, what if someone barged in? What if Mingi came in?

“I can’t fall behind, I’m tired of falling behind.” She said leaning closer, not to kiss him, but to make sure he was still looking at her, she needed him to understand her perspective, needed him to understand her insecurities, “He knows about you.”

Scoffing in retaliation he leaned closer and hissed, “I don’t care if he does,” eyes scanning her face for any hint or gesture of insincerity, but he couldn’t see it, or perhaps his foolish heart had convinced him once more, deceiving him into making him believe she was his.

“Then why are you upset?” her hands let go of the chair, reaching for his, but he pulled back, crossing his arms over his chest, leaning back against the chair as he stared up at her, “Falling behind? What do you mean by that, was this all a race or competition where you were trying to win him ba-

“Choose your words carefully Mr.Choi.” she cut him off, words seething with anger.

“Because they’re true?” coking his head to the side he noticed the way her hands were fisted at her sides, nails digging into her palms, “Tell me.”

“I…” letting out a shaky breath she looked at her shoes, no longer having the confidence to look at his face, “I couldn’t let him…I didn’t know what he was…going to say…I can’t lose you; I didn’t want to…he came to apologise…nothing more, nothing less. I didn’t want you to meet someone who never saw me the way you see me, what if you realised…that it wasn’t worth it anymore more…that it was a waste of time.” Walking over to the chair at the other end of the table she sat down, eyeing all his paperwork, “I…I’m sorry, I should’ve told you, I can’t hold you back just because I’m left behind all the time.”

He watched her intently, listening to each word, slowly realising what she meant, but he also came to another realisation, they were still walking on eggshells, especially around each other, choosing not to show their greys to each other, choosing to leave out the bad parts of the story, the poorly written scenes and the abrupt jump cuts, yet, this form of false perfection was what was making it worse for them, worse for him, especially when he knew that he no longer liked her. He no longer felt the same attraction- he felt more.

He was in love with her.

Turning to face her, he took a deep breath, his hands on the table, slowly reaching over to hold hers, his thumbs running soothing circles over her hands, “I…I was…I…I don’t want you to leave me too. Before you, there was someone else.”  He felt her go tense under his words, his eyes flickered to hers, noticing the settling anxiety, before he gave her a gentle smile, “Was…don’t worry, she didn’t want my heart anymore and I…I guess I didn’t want to give it to anyone anymore either. Until you came along, crying outside because you lost the key to your own apartment…I swear I was going to ignore you and leave, but…” Letting out a dry chuckle he glanced at the clock, she often did come by when it was lunch, maybe he’d take her somewhere special today, far from the office and the café, “I couldn’t, and I don’t know how…maybe because you were so patient with me, maybe I saw myself in you, I wanted to make sure you had someone to help you whenever you’d fall…but I was also scared that if I gave you my heart, you’d give it back and…f*ck Yeosang was right.” He sighed, giving up on where this was going, trying to pull his hands back but her grip tightened, causing him to look at her in surprise.

“He was…but I like it…I like that you’re a romantic, Sannie.” She smiled lacing their fingers together, “I won’t force you…but I need you to understand that I…I fell in love with you the day you unlocked my door for me… I just waited for the day you’d return the feelings…so yeah, I’ll confess, that I’ve loved you from the start.”

His eyes widened at the confession, face turning pink at the realisation, this must be love. The feeling that was brewing inside of him, ready to burst, this must be love. His whole body felt warm and fuzzy, he wanted to run to her and pull her close, almost engulfing her whole being, but his legs felt like jelly, this must be love. Though he didn’t need to get up, because she had come to him, smiling down at him as she cupped his face, her thumb stroking his cheek, he looked up at her through hooded eyes, enjoying the warmth, welcoming this nostalgic sensation, this must be love.

“I love you.” He whispered, hands gripping her waist, fingers digging into her, holding onto her as if he were afraid, she’d disappear.

“It’s about time you realise.” Letting out a chuckle she leaned closer, brushing her lips over hers, about to say something when they heard a static sniff followed by a sob, both of them freezing in act.

“Mingi…how long have you been there for?”

“I forgot to tell you your mic was on…sir.”

.

“Couple’s activities?” he mumbled, staring up from his book, his reading glasses at the tip of his nose as his girlfriend at the edge of the bed, legs crossed with a magazine in her lap, successfully stealing yet another one of his hoodies. The glow of the lamp illuminated her innocent features, though he knew behind those sparkly eyes hid some agenda that he would soon regret, even though he loved her with all his heart, he had realised long before that being an only child meant that her parents had always kept her busy, books, movies, school, other activities, even got her a Jongho- now that Jongho had completely passed her onto him, it was his job to entertain his princess in the late hours of the night.

“So…like se-

“No, you pervert- my God, all men are the same.” She huffed picking up the magazine to show him the list on the glossy, extremely bright coloured paper, the glare of the lamp just making it more difficult for him to read, “That’s a long list- I’m not going skydiving- YOU AREN’T either.”

“Sheesh, fine, but we can try cutting your hair.”

His hand instinctively went to his luxurious onyx locks, he liked his hair the way it was, and he knew she did too, from how she’d run her fingers through it when they’d be lazing around, from how she’d play with his hair when he’d lay on her lap for a little nap, from how she’d tug and pull on it when they’d be…

“Just a trim!” she broke his chain of thoughts, crawling to him and slapping the magazine on his lap, “You said you needed a trim! And- and it’ll be free!” she smiled, giving him the cutest face she could muster, though he stared back at unamused.

“No.”

“I- but- Sannie,” whining she pointed at the small text, “It’s so intimate and it’s- it’s all about trust.” Grabbing his arm she shook him violently, he almost missed the early stages of their relationship, where she was still shy and nervous around him, now she’d gained the confidence to be bratty around him, even demanding they sleep at his place because ‘You have a bigger bathtub’, incorrect, he didn’t but maybe she just liked using his shampoo- not that he’d mind, he preferred her smelling like she belonged to him, his scent carrying around her.

“How about a free massage as well?”

"There. All done." He finally opened his eyes to stare at his reflection in the mirror, confused at first, then angered, then even a bit humoured, "Um...what do u think is different with this and my usual haircut?" It was his fault, it really was, he agreed to this nonsense and now…he even fell asleep when she was working on his shoulders, but that was before she cut- no chopped off his beautiful locks.

"I... I mean it's a bit different Sannie but I-" she tried to clarify, smoothening it down, only to flatten it and…perhaps make it a bit worse, see, the thing was, during her little barber role-play, she had realised she’d trimmed a bit too much on one side, so she had to even it out and that led to umm…well

'I look like a POTATO!" her glared at her through the mirror, face red with embarrassment.

"NOOO! U don’t" whining she leaned closer to peck his cheek but he pulled away, whipping his head in her direction to glare at her, then looked at his hair through the mirror again, hands going to pull on the short hair, it was so…short, "Please, I love you, I know you said haircutting is a couple's activity but- babe I"

Hearing a sniff, he stopped staring up at her reflection, he didn't mean for her to cry, but the way she was biting her lower lip tugged at his heart. "I-"

Before he could start a giggle escaped her and he stopped, glaring at her, his face blank like the first time they met, "Ma’am, is something funny?"

"No....Mr.Potato head"

.

“Good morning Mr.Choi - what's up with this cap" Mingi looked at his boss who zoomed past him into the office, tugging on his baseball cap, slamming the door behind him as he yelled.

"Nothing Mingi, whatever happens, DO NOT let Yeosang in my office today"

"He's already there, sir."

Frowning San turned to meet eyes with a familiar brunette, his chin in his palm as he sat on San’s seat, a little smirk ever so present as he eyed the taller man, all dressed up in a nice suit, the only thing odd about him was the smudged lipstick on his jaw, which he probably didn’t even know was there and the baseball cap.

"Your girlfriend dropped you off huh? Car trouble again?'" Yeosang asked, before pointing at his jaw, “You also got a little something there Mr.Choi, guess the black waistcoat is a fan favourite, huh?”

San quickly made his way to his desk, grabbing the chair the other man was on and rolling it away from his monitor, mumbling as he grabbed a few tissues to wipe off the lipstick, he couldn’t even be mad at her because it was his idea to follow couple’s activity #43 ‘Wear a lipstick shade your partner likes’, apparently, he liked it a bit too much.

After that little entrance, they’d been sitting peacefully, with San working away and Yeosang…well he was just wasting time as usual, though at least he had yet to ask the question.

“So, what’s with the cap”, Yeosang asked as he made an intricate paper plane with another one of San's documents, they were going in the shredder anyway.

The other man, pouted for a split second before clearing his throat, "My head feels cold." continuing typing like he didn't care.

"I see." Yeosang eyed him before throwing the plane at him, watching the pointy nib smack against the man's cap, earning a glare, "So, will you bring her as your plus one to this annual fundraiser? Has she cleared all your tests? Check marks all your boxes of requirements of a partner?"

Sighing he leaned back at the thought, did she? Was she the ideal partner he asked for? Sure, she was somewhat clumsy and bratty, but then again, he wasn't the best either, he was whiney and slow-witted at times but with what they two had been through, how much they had grown, how much she had grown, of course she'd been the one, he had come to this realization when he saw her waiting outside for him in the rain, 'worried about him'.

"I'll take that as a yes," he said eying the man who was too lost in thought as he got up to leave, "By the way she was wrong."

"Hmm?" he frowned at his friend who was dusting off his clothes, "You don't look cute, you do look like Mr Potato head".

.

“San, I swear upon your Benz, if you turn off the heater, I’ll key your car.” She shivered, pulling another blanket over them as he pushed it off, trying to reach over her for the remote of the heater only to slap his hand away, “YAH CHOI SAN”

“ITS HOT! AND STUFFY! I’M SWEATING LOOK!” he lifted his sweatshirt for-  honestly, she really forgot what his point was, a bit too distracted for her own good before he huffed and took it off completely, flinging it across the room, giving her all the blankets and laying on his back, “It’s barely even winter, and look at you. I said don’t go playing in the snow, you can barely withstand a cool breeze, you thought the snow was gonna go easy on you? You’re just like Wooyoung, both of you are the same with the snow and winter.”

“Well, not everyone has the body temperature of an old, grumpy cat, Sannie.” She huffed, scooting closer to him, trying to steal his body heat, the fabric of the quilt making his skin burn.

“OLD?”

“Well, I did call you Mr.Choi out of respect too, I thought you were wayyyyyyyyyyy older than me.” Turning his head on the pillow to look at her, he made a face, rolling his eyes at the innocent smile she gave him, the tip of her nose still pink, shrugging at him. Sighing he moved closer to her, much to her pleasure.

“Take off your pants.”

“You really are an old pervert-

“Couple’s activity #136, you genius.” He huffed manoeuvring so he was under the blankets with her.

“I refuse to accept we’ve done so many.”

“We haven’t, I tore out some pages because I was not going to do couple’s yoga on the balcony.”

“Ah…I see. Anyway, still not going to take off my pants because you’re a bit needy.” She sighed, when he pulled her closer, his body heat helping her shivering body calm down.

“Well, aren’t you just an innocent peach, activity 136 says sharing body warmth is important and intimate, you can use me as a human heater and I can use you like a cooling pack.” He said tugging at the band of her pants, helping her out of them, sighing when he felt her cold legs on his warm ones, making the blanket a bit more bearable.

“Who knew Sannie was so thoughtful.” She purred, nuzzling her face in his neck, earning a huff, his arms tightening around her, squeezing her until she let out an airy laugh in protest.

“I am very thoughtful.” He sighed, feeling her relax against him.

“That you are…Mr.Potato head.”

.

Huffing out in both frustration and bliss she stared up at the ceiling, the warm mood lights in her room, feeling him flopping down beside her, the bed trembling at the act.

“Tub’s filling up. You’re also out of bath bombs”

“Your tub is bigger- how many did you use this time?”

“No. It is not…. around four” He sighed laying on his back to stare up at the ceiling with her, his hands reaching for hers, knuckles brushing against hers before she slowly tangled their fingers together, “Thank you for taking me to your event tonight…I really liked it.”

“Thank you for being my plus one.” He smiled, thinking back to how when anyone and everyone there would ask him who she was he’d introduce her as his girlfriend, the love of his life, someone he potentially wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

“Though I believe making sure I can’t walk tomorrow is going to be a problem for me at work.”

“Couple’s activity #159.”

“Did it specify tearing my favourite dress?”

“No, but the San in the mirror who used to have nice hair told me to.”

.

Two years, she had been together with this man for two very happy years, yet he still could confuse her every time he asked her something very important, such as now, right in her café, well, technically she was in the storage closet, counting and restocking when he walked in unannounced.

“Umm…is there no one there to take your order, Sannie?” she asked, looking up at him, using a carton as a makeshift seat, clipboard in her lap, she didn’t even want to do it, but once again, she had lost an epic battle of rock paper scissors from not only Jongho, but Wooyoung as well. The man above her frowned before shaking his head, ever so quiet.

“Okay…was there no one to stop you from coming back here- in an employee-only area.” She asked as he shook his head again, before sitting down beside her on the floor legs crossed, now with the different of elevation, looking up at her with a frown.

“Okay…do you…want to say something?”

“What’s your five-year plan?” he asked, rolling up his sleeves before looking at her, his hands on his knees, rubbing his sweaty palms on his pants.

“Ummm…well…what does that mean?” she asked, finally giving up on inventory to get on the floor with him, facing him, sitting in a similar position as she looked at him, noticing how he had closed the storage room door after entering, he needed privacy, so this was an important question to him.

“Where do you see yourself in Five years?”

Oh.

Her eyes widened at the question, throat drying up as she looked at anything but his face, he looked so serious, so focused, like what he had asked her was just like a business deal, well, maybe it was- but that wasn’t all it was, she knew what he meant, she knew he’d have his moments of self-doubt, he’d have moments where the crippling anxiety of having his heart smashed into pieces once more had him awake at night, he’d have his moments where he’d begin to fall, having nothing to hold onto- only this time, he had her.

“I see myself as a Mrs.Choi.”

His ears picked up the all-too-familiar name, his lips quirking up at the mention of his name, blushing like a school girl he almost squealed, leaning over to grab her hands and pull her closer, only his lack of judgement of strength had him pulling her onto his lap- or maybe that is what he wanted to do all along. All she knew was that she was merely inches away from him, his small dimpled smile gracing her with all its glory, “I think I see that too.”

“Yeah?” she giggled, wrapping her arms around his neck as she straddled his lap properly, “You see me as a Mrs.Choi?”

“No.” he smiled, locking his arms behind her waist as he noticed her small pout in confusion, pulling her even closer, until the tips of their noses bumped at the sudden jerk, “I see myself as your Mr.Choi.” His dimples deepened when she gasped, before closing the gap between them, leaving small pecks all over his face, leaving him a flustered, blushing mess as she smothered him with all the love that he had closed himself off to, all the love that was taken from him when his heart was tossed back at him, all the love she had in her that was never meant for anyone else other than him, all the love the two planned to share, for as long as they could, hoping it could bloom into something more beautiful one day.

“And I think I see you two getting out of my storage closet before I call the cops.”

Taglist : @edenesth @mlysalt @spooo00oky @cereal-simp @yessa-vie

[allfearstofallto]

Yandere! Diluc x Fem! Reader

Forced marriage AU

TW: 18+ MDNI, Minor character death

Maybe in another life, you could've loved him the way he was supposed to be loved. Loved him in a way that was pure. Loved him in the same way that he loved you. The Gardener who tended the flowers of Diluc's manor. Wasn't he a stupid one? Falling in love with the lady of the house, he must've thought this was some sort of romance novel. Constantly comparing your skin to the softness of a rose petal or your scent to the breeze that would billow through the flowers.

Such words probably would've worked on you. The you that was before Diluc. The you that wasn't forcibly married, stuck indoors all day while your husband praised you in a similar way. Words meant nothing to you anymore, but you pretended they did. Sneaking off after meals or late at night to rendezvous with your lover, giggling shyly at his compliments and accepting every flower he'd plucked and dethorned just for you. It ached you to say you felt nothing for the man, he was rather sweet after all, but your heart was already as cold as ice, with Diluc forcibly trying to melt it with his flames.

So why were you dating this simple groundskeeper and cheating on your spouse? He often asked the same thing. Wondering how in the world he compared to someone like master Diluc. He had no money and he was nowhere near as handsome. You merely scoffed at his words. Both of those things were true, but they didn't make you want Diluc anymore. What you wanted most from this man was his assistance.

When he got the job, he was supplied with a little cabin just on the outskirts of the grounds. Your only means of cover between the manor and the outside world. He talked so joyfully about how he'd steal you away from the manor, escaping with you to take you far away. Inazuma is nice this time of year, he'd tell you, and far, far away from the leering eyes of Mondstadt.

How would he feel when he found out you didn't want that? Jumping from one relationship to the next just didn't drive you as appealing, and most of all you didn't love him. You still carried on with your plan a few nights later, when the rain storm was fighting through Mondstadt. Diluc always slept the most peacefully after sex. Snoring and muttering things after his sleep. So, despite your hatred of the man, you gave yourself to him that night.

His mixture of excitement and desire did nothing for you, other than disgust you more. But you did it. You let his hands grope you where he pleased. You let him sing praises into your ear as his tongue ravished your neck. You let him take you. And after what felt like hours, he was out like a light.

You slipped out of bed and immediately went to your jewelry box. One of Diluc's best traits was his constant need to spoil you with gifts, all of which were worth a pretty penny. You stuffed them all into the pockets of your pajamas, weighing them down considerably. And you were out the door without a sound.

You met with your Gardener amongst the rose bushes. Just like you, he was soaked head to toe in the deafening rain, but he still removed his cloak and placed it over your shoulders, shielding you only a little bit. His lips pressed against yours and all you felt was numb. Your heart was thumping in your chest, but none of it was for him.

None of it felt real. Not him taking your hands in his, nor him pulling you towards the steel fence of the manor. When his hand pressed against the gate, rummaging through his pockets, you felt your throat run dry. And most of all, you felt hopeful. You nearly sighed out in relief seeing the lock fall into the mud, knowing that it was your last obstacle.

“Where do you think you're taking her?” that terribly familiar voice calls from the rain.

Oh.

Of course.

What poor luck you had.

You turned to face Diluc, of all people. Also dripping wet with rain, face red with anger, and his hand clutching his great sword, so tightly that his knuckles had turned white. Your little gardener couldn't take Diluc in a fight. He could barely handle an ordinary fist fight, you worried for him.

The Gardener looked at Diluc, then back at your face. You wondered if you looked scared, maybe that's why he was dumb enough to stand his ground bare handed, “We're leaving. Both of us! She doesn't want to be with you, she told me!”

As if Diluc didn't know that already. He knew you didn't want to be with him the day he forced you to sign the marriage papers. That didn't stop him from having you. And neither would one single man. One weak, visionless man.

Diluc made light work of him. If he wanted a fight, he wasn't getting one here. He was on the ground before he could even raise a fist, bloodied with barely any life left in his eyes. You expected as much from him, even telling him in your months of rigorous planning that he wouldn't be able to face Diluc, not when he was angry and not when it came to you.

The red haired man was at your side in seconds, dropping his sword in the mud. He gripped your cheeks with his hands, despite the rainfall, his hands were still unbelievably warm to the touch. Red eyes looked you over worriedly, every nook and cranny checked.

“He didn't hurt you, did he?” Diluc muttered against your lips, his own quivering with rage that he was trying to dissipate.

“No.” you spoke, your voice monotone. You'd lost. Once again, you lost it all to Diluc. There was no point in telling him that you were the mastermind all along, and the groundskeeper was just a pawn to be tossed away. Because in Diluc's eyes, you could do no wrong. He wouldn't believe you if you did.

His lips pressed against yours, also warm, almost scorching hot. Unlike with your Gardener, you felt something with his kiss. You felt disgust. And that feeling would never fade, would it?

[gallaghersgal]

Smoke & Mirrors || Lip Gallagher

chapter one of BORDERLINE.

pairing: lip gallagher x fem!reader (nickname: MK)

warnings & tags: the start of a SLOWburn. idiots with tension. mature for mentions of violence, smoking, swearing, canon typical dialogue and whatnot. y'all've seen the show!

chapter summary: lip gallagher has been your best friend since before you could remember. he's the smartest person you know, so it astounds you how someone like him can be oh so stupid. you're committed to investing in his future, even if he isn't. you won't let your best friend end up stuck on the southside.

a/n: ummmm hi!! wrote basically this whole thing in the last 24hrs. it's unedited and tbh if i look at it for one more second im gonna explode!! enjoy <33

wc: 2.9k

The crisp October air sends a chill down your spine as you usher your younger sister Caroline out the door for school. She groans and rolls her eyes when you grab her by the handle of her backpack, pulling her back to adjust her scarf. At a mere thirteen years old she already carries the same attitude you did at sixteen. “Whatever you’re gonna say, I don’t wanna hear it. You were just sick, dad’ll have my head on a platter if I don’t make you bundle up.”

She stomps her foot, a stupid, childish action that has you mentally swearing to never have kids of your own. Helping raise this one was enough as it is. “It’s not even-” she starts, but you cut her off.

“I said I don’t wanna hear it. Wear your fucking scarf or I’m telling mom you make that tutor kid do your math homework.” You shove her head gently after securing the scarf around her neck and let her stomp down the stairs. “Don’t be a brat.”

She doesn’t answer, instead starting down the street towards the bus stop. Cigarette smoke wafts over the morning air from the Gallagher house. You turn to see Lip on the front stoop, blood shining on his brow as he smokes. You feel a twist in your gut. What did he get himself into this time, you think. The repetitive motion of locking the door comes like second nature and you spend the thirty odd seconds it takes worrying about the boy across the street.

When you turn towards the Gallagher house Caroline is already ahead of you, not waiting until she passes the chain-link fence to call out, “what happened to your face?”

You catch up in time to hear him scoff, “good morning to you too, Kit-Kat,” pulling out her childhood nickname, the one she still hates, that he gave to her when she was barely four. “‘S nothing. Battle scars an’ shit.”

“What the fuck kinda battle did’ya get yourself into?” you ask, leaning down to take his chin between your thumb and forefinger. The cut isn’t too bad, a lot of blood for a relatively small abrasion, but the skin around his eye is already blossoming a dark bruise. Lip stares at you as if to say ‘not in front of the kid,’ and you nod, fishing a five dollar bill out of your pocket. You were saving it for work, but Caroline’s silence is worth more. She raises an eyebrow, to which you snap, “just don’t tell mom, ‘kay? And don’t skip just ‘cause I'm skipping.”

Caroline turns to leave and you extend a hand to Lip, pulling him to stand. Eager fingers reach for his burnt-down cig when he goes to drop it, taking the final hit for yourself before stubbing it out on the sidewalk. “Greedy. Gotta buy y’own pack,” he remarks with a smirk. All it takes is a second to get back across the stress, and once you’re inside he unwraps the scarf from his neck. 

Your eyes catch on his bruised knuckles and you tilt your head to the side with a silent question, you gonna tell me what happened? He sighs, hearing you loud and clear despite not speaking a single word. “Got into it with Frank. He was givin’ Ian shit for no fuckin’ reason.”

“Mm,” you nod, and catch his hand after he runs it nervously through his curls. The bruises there aren’t as bad as the one on his eye, Frank must’ve only gotten one good, drunken swing in. No cuts either, which was good. For all his tough guy exterior, Lip Gallagher couldn’t stand the sting of peroxide. The less you need the better, you think, and a grin plays at your lips when you glance up at him, holding his injured hand up. “Think y’can roll a joint with these?”

His laugh is like music to your ears, revelling in the first grin you’ve seen from him this morning. “Yeah, yeah I can do that, y’wanna jus’ skip the whole day? We could catch a movie ‘r somethin’,” he suggests, following you upstairs to your room.

You shake your head, opening the door to your room for him. “Can't. Calc test in third period. Sit down, ‘m gonna get the first aid kit.” While you get the kit from the shelf in your closet you hear him open your desk drawer, pulling out the grinder and weed jar you keep hidden at the back.

“You got a shirt or somethin’ I could change into? This one smells like Frank’s fuckin’ booze,” Lip scoffs. He shrugs the tee over his head and lights another cigarette, his eyes following your every move with that same boyish twinkle you’d grown fond of over the years. It was always good to remember things weren’t getting to him, not too bad. 

You cast a glare in his direction, silently scolding him, ‘you know better, let me open the window,’ but he only grins in response. Pale morning light illuminates the room when you pull back your blackout curtains and crack the window. The city is still quiet–or, as quiet as it gets in Chicago–and the sounds of gentle wind and birdsong fall softly on your ears.

You settle at his side, first aid kit in one hand and a gray and black sweater of his in the other. Curious fingers reach for a small cut on his shoulder. “What’s this one from?” You trace the gash. It isn’t deep either, but it’ll need to be cleaned so it doesn’t get infected.

“It’s, uh, ’s nothin,” he brushes you off, to which you shoot him a glare. That sets him straight. In a low mumble he simply states, “beer bottle.”

Rage seethes inside you, your jaw tensing as you wet a cotton ball with peroxide. You keep any comments to yourself, not sure how LIp will react. You’re aware of his more than complicated familial relationships–you’d grown up with thim, seeing Frank’s drinking get worse, and the aftermath of Monica leaving–but if there was one constant with the Gallagher kids, it was family first, above everything. You had your opinions of Frank, and you knew Lip shared your distaste more than anything, but that didn’t take away the sensitive nature of the topic. So, you stay quiet, dabbing at the wound with a gentle hand. The sting draws a sharp hiss from him, and it’s then that you realize how flushed he is, his cheeks, neck and chest are a soft pink color. Graciously, you pretend not to notice, so as not to embarrass him further.

When the cut is cleaned and covered with a bandage Lip takes his sweater, pulling it over his head. It leaves his hair mussed and he smoothes a hand through his curls while you tilt his chin up, inspecting the cut on his brow. Blue eyes stare up at you with a vulnerability you’re not used to seeing from the boy you grew up with. At least you know he’s comfortable with you. That’s all.

Comfortable. Friendly. Nothing more. The same as it’s always been.

The way it’s meant to be.

“Quit starin’, get me fixed up so we can smoke this,” Lip grumbles, gesturing towards the rolling tray in his lap. You laugh at that, heart quickening in your chest. Tensions between the two of you had been thick as of late, but underneath it all things remained the same.

“Glad to know you’ve got your priorities straight,” you snort, cleaning up the second wound with peroxide. He takes it better this time, more prepared for the sting, but you still catch the way a few pained tears brim in his bright eyes. 

Soft, parted lips rest under your fingers as you clean the final abrasion. The bruising is the worst here, deep purple hues present across his mouth and down to his chin. He finishes rolling as you’re wiping at the blood that pooled below his lip, a deep red trail spilling down his chin. Your delicate motions are interrupted by Lip bringing the joint up to seal it, licking along the edge of the rolling paper. 

“‘M almost finished, be patient,” you murmur, focused on keeping the disinfectant out of his mouth. A moment later you pull back, swiping vaseline over the split before wiping the excess on his jeans. Payback for interrupting your tending to his wounds. “There. All patched up. Say ‘thank you nurse,’” you tease with a grin.

He’s already flicking the lighter on, holding the flame against the end of the joint to take the first hit for himself. You busy yourself with cleaning up the first aid supplies until he passes it off to you. Thick, earthy smelling smoke flows from his parted mouth, which lifts into a mischievous grin as he hands you the joint. “My lip’s busted up pretty fuckin’ bad. Think y’could kiss it better?”

Your cheeks flush with embarrassment at his blunt proposal. “Shut up,” you retort with a sharp laugh, before you can even consider it.

Lip throws on an exaggerated frown, “oh, c’mon MK. You know it’d be so fucking hot- ow!” He flinches, chest shaking with laughter as you throw your remote at him. “Okay! Okay, I know I know. You’re not one of my g-”

“Little ghetto girlfriends,” you tease, repeating the drunken dig an alibi patron had once thrown at Lip. 

“Exactly.”

You shake your head, laughing at him for a moment. “You’re never getting in my pants Gallagher. I’ve known you since we were three. It’s wrong,” you lie. Lip is your best friend, the same role he’s filled your entire life, side by side since the two of you were in diapers. But your rejection stems from something deeper than that.

Lip Gallagher is inconsistent. You can’t exactly call him unfaithful if he never truly commits to one girl, but he’s not one for relationships. He’s flighty. He runs from affection. More often than not he buries his true feelings under snark and insults, weed, booze, and–when all else fails–aggression. That doesn’t mean you didn’t love him, it doesn’t mean you had no feelings for him, it just gives you reason to brush off his advances. For now, it can remain a little game between the two of you.

Months ago, when these unwanted feelings began to blossom in your chest, you’d promised yourself you wouldn’t be just another girl he messed around with. You aren’t willing to let him mess this thing up for the both of you.

Eager to change the subject you move to your desk, pulling out an informational packet from MIT. Before you can get a word out Lip is shaking his head, casting a skeptical glare in your direction. “Hey, come on. I just want you to apply.” You lean to hand the packet over but he reaches for the joint instead, which you pull away quickly.

“No you come on, why would I apply to MIT, seriously,” he shoots back, refusing to take the folder from your hand. He settles more comfortably in your bed, laying back against the pillows and staring up at the ceiling instead of meeting your eyes. “Bunch ‘f ivy league reject pricks ridin’ on daddy’s money. You’re lucky I’m even applying to schools in town.” Greedy hands reach forward for the joint again and you yield with a sigh, passing it over. As an afterthought, you toss the packet to him as well.

“Just consider it, alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll think about it,” he says. You don’t need anything but the way he avoids your eyes to know it’s a lie. 

You purse your lips, throwing an icy stare his way. Lip Gallagher may be your best friend, but you’re not going to take any of his shit. “Have you even got any applications in?”

The question seems to take him by surprise, tendrils of smoke curling from the corner of his parted lips. “I’ve got a few,” another lie.

“Really? What schools,” you question, head tilted to the side with a knowing look. “Don’t lie to me, I know you better than anyone. I can tell.”

He laughs at that, shaking his head in disbelief. “Fine, you got me. I haven’t applied anywhere yet.” The end of the joint has a good stretch of ash, which he’s trying to keep precariously attached while he takes another hit. 

“Scoot,” you mumble, grabbing your own binder of college information packets. He stretches one arm back towards your desk to snag your heart shaped ashtray and knocks the ash off, then lays the tray in the space between your bodies. You settle in beside him, your knees propped comfortably over the throw pillow that always ended up in the middle of your bed. One hand takes the joint and the other opens your binder. 

Pages upon pages of information, campus maps, scholarship pamphlets, and your hand written tuition calculations make Lip go a little cross eyed as you flip towards a page with a yellow tab. “Okay. Here, look,” you point at the information you’d circled, reading Engineering B.S., training the Innovators of Tomorrow. “UI Urbana-Champaign. Great engineering program–” you flip the page over “–and scholarships for kids from underserved communities.”

You settle the joint between your lips, flipping through a few more pages. After a deep inhale you use it to gesture towards the page. “Or UChicago, that way you’d be close to home. They’ve got this thing called inner city promise. Smart kids, like you, from certain high schools with certain academic records and test scores can get full rides.” You run a finger down the short list, stopping at a familiar name and tapping it. “See? Lincoln Grove High School. You’d qualify, Lip.”

“‘M not some fuckin’ charity case,” he grumbles, snatching the burnt-down joint from your hand. “You’re a pain in my ass, y’know that?”

“Oh I’m a pain?” you snap, turning on your side to glare at him. “For what, believing in you? For not taking any of your self-deprecating, avoidant bullshit?”

He shrugs then, and the action is almost shy. He’s embarrassed. You have this innate ability to see him, the way no one else does. You scare yourself with it sometimes. “Just don’t know why you care so much,” he mumbles.

The sigh that leaves you is a deep, tired one. Convincing him of these things has always been difficult. For as smart as he is, Lip can be so infuriatingly stupid. “You’re smart, Lip. You’ve always been smart. I dunno what I would do if I went off to college and you stayed here. In this shithole.”

He doesn’t laugh the way you expect him to. He doesn’t brush it off. He just stares.

“We made a pact, did you forget?” you continue. He shakes his head silently, the far off look in his eyes letting you know he’s remembering that day. 

The day the two of you spent drinking by the pool. Making promises to each other. You’d said you would make it out, and you would do it together. You’d made Lip promise you that he’d give it a try, and stupidly you believed him. Or was it stupid? You’re not ready to give up yet. 

“I don’t want to do it without you,” you admit to him.

Lip looks at you, his blue eyes softening. “Do what without me?” You shake your head, scooting closer to rest your head on his shoulder. He stubs out the joint and wraps an arm around your shoulders. Friendly, comfortable affection. The kind you were used to. “C’mon MK, spit it out.”

“Any of it,” you return. “Don’t think I could get through another four years of school if you’re not doing it with me.”

“Yeah? What if we’re at different schools, dumbass,” he retorts, but his palm soothes across your arm, a contrast to his words. “You gonna follow me to MIT, since y’want me to go so bad?”

You can’t help the laugh that bubbles up in your chest, turning to look up at him with a grin playing at your lips. He got what he wanted. He made you laugh. “I’ll call you every night.”

“Every night huh?” he says with a smirk. “Cockblocking me from a thousand miles away is just like you, isn’t it.”

You shove him playfully, sitting up to move the ashtray off your bed. The MIT packet lays somewhere at the foot of the bed and you search through the pillows to find it. Instead of handing it to Lip, you just tuck it into his backpack, handing the bag to him after. “Well yeah, can’t have you getting distracted by the chess team girls,” you joke back. 

He lays there in your bed, looking up at you with that stupid grin of his. All bared teeth and mischief, the same one you’d seen all those years ago. You stay silent for a moment longer before you stand, holding out a hand to pull him up. 

“You sure we can’t just skip?”

“No, ‘ve got a test, remember? Gotta keep my grades up if ‘m gonna follow you all the way to MIT,” you say, and shakes his head with a laugh. Maybe he’s coming around to the idea. “Come on, I’ll drive us.”

thanks so much for reading!! series masterlist here.

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[bruhnze]

Can you write something about Lucy dealing with adhd, or somthing with Ona too

Eres incorregible - Lucy Bronze x Ona Battle

summary: fictional story about Lucy Bronze and having adhd, this is written because multiple people had the request of such a fic.

wordcount: 2554, a little one🥺

warnings: none

Eres incorregible

Lucy Bronze had always thrived on a fast-paced, high-energy lifestyle.

As a professional footballer, her life was a whirlwind of training sessions, matches and constant travel. She had enough new incentives every day to keep her from being bored, her job was perfect for her. Like how she got the opportunity to live in France for two years.

But when the COVID-19 pandemic struck, the world suddenly stopped and so did Lucy’s rhythm. Without the daily demands that usually kept her grounded, Lucy found herself struggling with an unsettling stillness.

In the early days of lockdown, Lucy’s restlessness took over. With no challenging workouts or team meetings to attend, she threw herself into home projects with the same intensity she brought to the pitch. She redid the entire house interior, tackled every little task she had put off while living in Lyon, and when that was done she even repainted the outdoor fence. But once everything in and around the house was in perfect order, Lucy found herself with too much time on her hands and too little to do.

With no more home improvements to make, her energy turned inward. She obsessively watched her football matches, replaying them over and over again. She studied the games, analyzing every move, every strategy, until the matches blurred together.

Desperation for new challenges led her to learn to breakdance, following how tutorials on how to stand on her head and do the worm, skills she even convinced her girlfriend at the time, Keira, to learn with her. The two of them spent hours mastering these ridiculous feats, laughing until their sides hurt, but the laughter wasn’t enough to fill the void.

Lucy tried to keep herself occupied with online campaigns and challenges, including the Nike Living Room Challenge. She worked out in the garden for hours on end, sometimes pushing herself through five-hour sessions just to stave off the boredom.

Despite all this, the days felt endless. Her usual six hours of sleep dwindled to four or five, the quiet nights stretching out. The days getting more and more repettative.

The constant boredom began to take its toll. Little irritations flared up between her and Keira. The tension simmered under the surface, small arguments breaking out over nothing, the kind of friction that only arises when two people are confined together with no escape.

During one of her weekly online meetings with her psychologist, Lucy was asked a question that she hadn’t expected: “Have you ever thought about whether you might have adhd?”.

The suggestion caught Lucy a little off guard. She had always been a bundle of energy, but she had never considered that there might be a reason behind it. The psychologist referred her to a psychiatrist, who conducted a thorough evaluation. After a few sessions, some alone, some with her parents or with Keira, the diagnosis was confirmed.

Initially, the diagnosis didn’t change much for Lucy. She didn’t feel different, but with tips and tricks the specialist offered her to manage her energy and focus, she actually delt a lot better with all of the access energy she had and got less stuck in her head.

Lucy and Keira even attended some therapy sessions together, learning how to navigate their relationship now that they had a better understanding of that side of Lucy.

Without her usual outlet of intense physical exercise, Lucy took up some new hobbies like cooking, baking, painting and even building LEGO sets. These activities helped, providing her with some sense of structure and accomplishment throughout the days.

When life began to return to normal, Lucy noticed how much daily exercise had been essential for clearing her head. With her regular training back in place, she found it easier to focus on other responsibilities, like answering emails and managing her personal life. The physical exertion also improved the quality of her sleep, and for a while, everything seemed to be falling into place.

..

However, years later, the challenges resurfaced when Lucy underwent knee surgery. Now playing for FC Barcelona in Spain, she hadn't really thought back on the quarantine period for a while, until it all started to feel a little familiar again.

Forced to take a break from football, Lucy found herself once again trapped between the walls of her home, an apartment without a garden this time, unable to channel her energy into the sport she loved.

Her girlfriend, noticed the change immediately. She and Ona had ofcourse spoken about the fact that she had adhd, but she had explained that she managed really good because she had sports as an outlet for her energy.

Ona observed Lucy climbing the walls, more restless than ever, biting her nails until they were raw. The living room had become a makeshift football dome, with Lucy watching game after game, analyzing the performances of herself and other great defenders. She even started studying the stories of up-and-coming male footballers, determined to use this downtime to improve her own game, even with her dodgy knees.

But the obsession took its toll. Lucy started skipping entire nights of sleep, her mind too wired to rest. She spent every waking hour thinking about football, neglecting everything else.

When she and Ona had dinner, Ona couldn’t help but notice that while Lucy was still physically present, her mind was elsewhere, consumed by her own thoughts. Ona didn’t mind picking up the slack around the house, doing all the choirs as Lucy was recovering, but she couldn’t ignore the growing distance between them.

One evening, Ona finally voiced her concerns. “Lucy, have you thought about talking to a professional? I’m worried about you.”

Lucy was taken aback by the suggestion, but Ona’s sincerity struck a chord. Realizing the strain her behavior was putting on their relationship, Lucy scheduled an appointment with her psychologist, who advised her to talk to the psychiatrist again. During their session, the psychiatrist suggested trying medication to help manage her adhd, explaining her behavoir was coming from the fact she wasn’t physically challenged anymore.

Lucy was hesitant. She didn’t want to take anything that might be considered a performance-enhancing drug, like Ritalin or Adderall, which could be seen as a form of doping. After discussing her options, Lucy was prescribed Atomoxetine, a non-stimulant medication.

At first, the change was remarkable.

Lucy began helping with household chores again, her day-night schedule normalized and she was more engaged in conversations with Ona. She even started going out with friends again and attending training sessions to watch and connect with the team again. It seemed like things were finally looking up.

But as the weeks went by, Ona noticed some troubling things. Like that Lucy had stopped eating breakfast, brushing it off by saying she just didn’t feel hungry in the mornings anymore. Ona felt like her once vibrant spark seemed to dim and while she no longer bit her nails, Ona missed the little sign that Lucy was feeling stressed or excited, even though she always told Lucy to stop it. Lucy had become a shadow of her former self - calm and composed, but emotionally distant.

Their physical relationship also suffered. It had been a while since they had been intimate and while Ona didn’t want to push Lucy, she couldn’t ignore the growing gap between them.

Even when Lucy had been recovering from her knee surgery, she had found ways to make their relationship work. But now, Lucy seemed uninterested, as if the medication had dulled not just her restlessness but her passion as well.

One night, as they lay in bed, Ona decided to confront the issue.

“Are you happy?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Lucy, already half-asleep, blinked in confusion. “Hm? I don’t know, yes… why?”

“You just seem a little distant,” Ona replied, turning on the bedside lamp to see Lucy’s face.

Lucy sighed, pulling Ona closer as if to shield herself from the truth.

“I don’t really feel like myself,” she admitted after a long pause. “But everything is going so much better now. I’m functioning better. Isn’t that what matters?”.

Ona sat up, her expression full of concern. “For who, Lucy? For me? Because I’d rather have you back - the real you - even if it means things aren’t perfect all the time.”

Lucy’s heart ached at Ona’s words. “I’ve been a bad girlfriend,” she said softly. “But I’m trying to do better. I can do the chores now, I’m not obsessing over football as much… I’m trying.”

“But you’re not you, Lucy,” Ona said gently. “Your emotions are dulled. I miss the happy Lucy who danced while making breakfast, the silly Lucy who made me laugh every day and kissed me. I’d rather have that Lucy back, even if it means you’re a little more chaotic.”

A tear rolled down Lucy’s cheek. “Have I not been kissing you?” she asked, her voice tinged with sorrow. “I love you, Ona. I don’t want to lose you.”

Ona leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to Lucy’s cheek. “You’re not losing me, I know you love me. And I love you too—every part of you, even the messy bits. Maybe it’s time to talk to the specialist again, see if there’s another way. I don’t care if you’re a little crazy sometimes. I just want you to be happy.”

Lucy nodded, her heart heavy but hopeful. “I’ll talk to her again. Maybe a lower dose, or… something’’.

“We’ll figure it out together, okay? You don’t have to go through this alone,” Ona reassured her, holding Lucy close, ‘’if it were up to me we ask her if you can stop taking the meds’’.

In the following weeks, Lucy worked closely with her psychiatrist to adjust her medication. She got a schedule she followed to gradually reduce the dose so that she will have the most chance to not get any symptoms from quitting.

She started dancing in the kitchen again, even if her knee wasn’t fully recovered. She found joy in the little things, cooking breakfast with or for Ona, walking their dogs Coco and Narla, and yes, even obsessing over football. But now, there was a healthy balance. She still had her intense focus, but it was tempered by the love and support of the people around her. Mostly Ona. And now, even though she’d stopped taking the medication, she seemed to be in a better headspace then before, she talked a lot with Ona, giving her a insight into all the things she found difficult, so that they could tackle them together.

Ona was really sweet and caring, she knew it was hard for Lucy to not be able to practice the thing she loved the most in the hole world and tried to be as much of a supporting factor to her girlfriend as possible.

..

One night Ona came back home, Lucy had been at the hospital today, a final check for her knee, if it was cleared Lucy could start training with the team again on Monday. She hoped Lucy had gotten good news, she had texted her about how it had been, but she hadn’t gotten a reply even though the appointment had been in the morning. A little hesitant she opened the door, afraid Lucy might’ve had bad news.

She was met with the sight of a house way cleaner than she knew she had left it. She heared soft music playing in the kitchen.

‘’Luce?’’ she kicked her shoes off and dropped her bags.

Ona stepped in to the appartment and a lovely smell of dinner that was being prepared entered her nose. She walked to the kitchen and saw Lucy stirring up some vegetables.

She smiled as she observed her for a few minutes, a happy Lucy was the best Lucy, she always loved the English defender, but on moments like these she felt her heart beating a little faster. The casually swaying her hips, the humming with the music and the fact that Lucy had been so sweet to clean the house and prepare dinner, it was perfect.

Ona walked to Lucy and wrapped herself around the taller woman from behind, her unanounced touch made Lucy jump slightly, a soft chuckle escaping her lips. “Hey, baby, you’re home,” Lucy said, her voice tender.

‘’Mhm’’ Ona hummed against the muscular shoulders, ‘’you are my home’’.

Lucy put the fire a little lower and took Ona’s hands to give her a little space to turn around, ‘’hello’’ Lucy smiled, with a loving gaze she leaned in, her lips meeting Ona’s in a gentle, affectionate kiss.

It was a kiss that spoke volumes, soft and lingering, a silent promise of comfort and togetherness. The tender pressure of their lips was complemented by the gentle brush of Lucy’s fingers against Ona’s cheek, a subtle yet profound gesture of the love and care they shared. For a moment, the outside world faded away, leaving only the warmth of their embrace and the sweetness of their kiss, which reassured them both that things were good between them.

Lucy felt a renewed sense of determination. No matter what challenges laid ahead, she knew she would face them with Ona by her side. After all, she was Lucia Tough Bronze, unstoppable both on and off the field.

With a playful glint in her eyes, Lucy pulled back slightly, looking at Ona with a mischievous smile. “Did you know I’ve won everything in life?” she asked.

Ona, catching the sparkle in Lucy’s gaze, tilted her head with a knowing smile. She had seen this look before, the blend of Lucy’s playful charm and genuine affection. “Oh? what makes you say that?” she chuckled, ready for another of Lucy’s cheesy lines.

Lucy’s smile widened as she took Ona’s hands in hers, holding them gently. “Because I have you,” she said, her voice filled with sincerity and emotion. “Honestly, I feel like the luckiest woman in the world. With you by my side, everything just feels perfect.”

Ona’s smile deepened, touched by Lucy’s words. “I love you too Lucy.”

Lucy’s expression softened as she gently cupped Ona’s face in her hands and pressed a tender kiss to her lips. “No, I mean it. You’re perfect,” she said quietly. “I love that you’ve been so patient with me, that you see and care about the real me.”

Ona leaned in and kissed the taller woman gently. “Ofcourse, speaking of caring about you, I assume things went well with the doctor?”.

Lucy’s expression clouded for a moment. “I texted you, right? Everything went well,” she said with a bright smile. “I’m back to training with the team again.”

Ona raised an eyebrow and chuckled. “Actually, no, you didn’t text me. But I’m glad to hear it was good news,” she said, giving Lucy another affectionate kiss. “I almost started missing your silly distractions.”

“Hey!” Lucy protested playfully. “They’re not silly, they make people laugh.” She pulled out her phone and began scrolling. “I swear I sent you a message.”

After a few moments, she chuckled. “Oh, I sent it to my mom instead. Oops.”

Ona shook her head with an amused smile and gently took Lucy's arms, pulling her into an embrace. She nestled her head against Lucy’s shoulder, savoring the closeness. ‘’ets incorregible’’ she chuckled.

[gonedreaminggg]

crack baby laurance headcanons

- laurance was found like a rat on the street. basically baby cadenza came home one day with laurance tucked under her arm like "can we keep him??? 🥺🥺"

- for a guard, laurance fights DIRTY. yes, he has probably the most professional training in the region, and made the jury of nine list. HOWEVER, he did that to make a grade. when he's in an actual fight, defending what he believes in, he is NOT fighting fair.

- laurance doesn't really remember his bio parents. however, they're from Tu'la, and that's why he has a darker skin tone. I hc laurance as Brazilian, but in the world map i've made of mcd, Tu'la is basically south america.

- what he does remember of his parents is this one song his mother used to sing him. it's in a native Tu'layan language.

- laurance would climb literally everything in Meteli. whether it be trees, houses, the well in the middle of town, both of his feet were NEVER on the ground at the same time.

- cadenza was usually "in charge" of laurance. he would play pranks on her by hiding right when they got called home for dinner. she would end up panicking, and then laurance would have to apologize to both her and hayden.

- laurance eats worms. still does it occasionally as a sad excuse for a party trick. he also used to run around Meteli stepping on ants.

- his wadrobe resembles that of a pirate. Meteli is right on the coast and lots of pirates stop there to restock. sometimes, they end up trading their clothes for other supplies. laurance found their outfits to be extremely cool and bought a lot of pirate clothes for himself.

- cadenza used to feed the stray cats in Meteli. laurance would chase them around with a big ass stick. he only stopped when one time he fell while running and almost impaled himself. cadenza will never let him live that down.

- also BONUS; i mentioned this in my laurance hair essay but it has to be said again. when laurance was 8 his hair was really long and unkempt. one day, him and cadenza were playing in the backyard and she pushed him a bit too hard. he ended up getting his hair stuck in ths chicken wire fence and hayden had to cut him free. after that, he never let anyone touch his hair.

[darylbae]

hiii, could you write something fluff with vamp daryl and a fem reader that really likes to stay in the sun? and even tho daryl cant stay for long in the sun he likes watching her enjoy herself for afar💕😭 sorry for the bad writting english is not my firt language

my girl and her garden — daryl dixon🩰

in which vamp!daryl just loves to watch you in the sun

note: i dont have a specific kind of vampire in mind when i write this, so none of my vamp!daryl stuff is really the same.

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

It never took long for you to understand what Daryl was. You'd grown suspicious long before he'd admitted it to you, noticing he'd never eat around you and would always go out to find his own food. He'd find reasons to stay inside if he could, not that sunlight burned him alive, but too much of it was harmful. It terrified him when he finally told you, worrying he'd be go back to being alone again. He didn't want to, but he enjoyed your company, he enjoyed waking up and working around you, surviving with you. So now the pair of you were stuck together. Of course, you had a lot of questions. "Will you outlive me?" "Will you stay the same forever?" "Will you get sick of me and eat me?" And he answered them all however he could. Daryl loved how different you were to him. He found comfort in staying inside, keeping to himself, and that had all changed when he'd met you. You loved being outside. You loved the sun kissing your skin, you loved gardening and doing everything you could outside. The cabin the two of you shared was fenced in and kept safe, thanks to Daryl. And had a lovely open area of grass, you'd even built flowerbeds, to plant and watch over your food. Even as it had been raining a lot, you enjoyed at least being on your porch, watching your crops flourish in the rain, listening to the heavy thrum of the rain against the leaves and trees surrounding you. It had finally starting to shine again outside and you almost leaped out of bed to get some UV on your skin. Skipping coffee and breakfast, you'd put on a summer dress you'd kept over the years, and off you went. The sun was beaming down onto your skin, onto your plants, fruits, and vegetables. You couldn't be happier as you bent down to admire the growing strawberries. Daryl had only just rolled out of bed, feeling the vacant space beside him and worrying. Only to see the door to your cabin open, and could hear your sweet voice humming quietly in the distance. He'd poured himself a coffee, standing at the door frame and fishing into his pocket for a smoke. He could do this for hours, he could make a profession out of this. Watching you, studying you, the way you smile at every bit of progress your garden was making. If he were to eventually die, this is what his Heaven would be. You looked up, to see the moody shadow at the door frame and smiled sweetly at him, lifting a hand to wave. He'd returned the gesture, flapping his fingers at you and inhaling deeply on his cigarette. You'd leaped up from your squatting position, running excitedly up to Daryl to show him your work. "Dar! Look!" He stubbed his cigarette against the wall of the cabin, not wanting to blow smoke around you. "What is it, honey?" You lifted the strawberry, a large, deep red, juicy looking one, and held it up to his face. "I know it's not to your taste, but try it! Look how amazing it's grown!" You held it to his lips and he'd taken a bite, holding your gaze almost seductively. You wanted to drag him to bed and show him a good morning. But there were more exciting matters at hand, like your marvelous strawberry. "That's amazing. Well done, my girl." He cooed, wrapping an arm around your waist and tugging you into him. Your stomach tightened quickly at the praise, and you'd accepting the affection from him. Daryl always knew how to make you feel special. "Better get back out there!" You hurried back outside, after handing him the rest of the strawberry, and got back to work. Daryl stayed where he was, comfortably inside and had the perfect view of you. The sun lighting up your skin, making you glow as if an Angel had come and roamed the Earth. A small part of Daryl resented what he was, it limited what he could do, especially with you. If he could, he'd eat, sleep, bathe, and make love under the sun with you. He wanted to enjoy it as you did, but he was content with watching you for now.

[ashdreams2023]

hiiii!!!! i love your works so muchhh🫶🫶🫶!! i hope you're still accepting requests about five, where five travelled to another dimension where the reader is and can't go back to where he's from (like when he goes to the future) i hope you understand huhu. THANK YOU IN ADVANCEEE!!!!💗💗💗

Took me a minute but I think got it 😅

Five hargreeves x reader

Angst/comfort

I’m sorry

Five blinks a few times while catching his breath, he looks around him I wonder and confusion, this place can’t possibly be where you were…right?

His endless months of calculations and failed attempts, has lead him here, it was the last possible place you could’ve been.

A small town in the middle of nowhere where, the houses looked identical with the exception of the obvious well taken care of garden in the house he was walking directly walking towards.

He swallowed when he saw the small name plate on the front fence, hargreeves…

[Name] hargreeves.

He notices a few of the neighbors looking at him suspiciously from their cracked windows, kids peaking from over fences and men glaring at him as they walk by.

He was an intruder to their circle and obviously he was view as less than welcome but they didn’t scare him, not when he saw the world near end three times.

He walked inside and braced himself for what he might witness, he knocked on the door three times, then his heart skipped a beat.

"Coming! John is that you?! I didn’t think you’ll drop the groceries so early-" You opened the door and froze in your spot when you saw his face.

Five let out a breath, your familiar face made his chest feel both warm and tight at the same time, he finally found you.

"Five?…how?" You opened your mouth in disbelief then closed it again, your eyes quickly scanned the area around your house and faked a smile to the nosey neighbors.

"Inside" you pulled him gently by his sleeve, his eyes never leaving your figure, not even blinking.

After closing the door you shut the curtains then turned back to look at him, you hesitated before reaching your hand and touching his cheek "My five"

He melted into your touch and kissed the palm kissing his face "My love…I’ve finally found you"

You threw yourself into his embrace and closed your eyes "I thought I’ll never see you again…I thought this was the end for us"

Five shook his head "don’t be daft, I would search for you till the hair on my head turns gray again"

"You crazy old man!" You pulled away from him looking concerned "It’s not safe for you here…they don’t like strangers" you looked to the side looking conflicted.

He pulls your face up to look at him "I’m no stranger, I am your husband, the one you took the last name of and they should know better than to mess with me regarding my family"

Your eyes teared up a little, you pulled away from him looking down at the floor "I know why you’re here but…I can’t go back with you five"

His expression showed confusion "Why? I can definitely get us back I-"

"No…no you can’t, you think I haven’t tried before? I tried every possible equation and no one of them did me any good, I’m stuck here five and you can’t do anything about it…I’m sorry"

Five clenched his fists and then marched to you and grabbed your wrist "I refuse to leave here alone! I am not leaving without you!" He focused his powers on the exact equation he tried earlier but just like your words it was like nothing was affecting your existence there, for he was all powered up and ready to leave you stayed unaffected.

His body slumped down, he let go of you and looked down at his hands frustration and anger at himself "There has to be a way…I’m-"

"Five I’m so sorry" You hugged him from behind "I wish things could be different" you whispered.

Five rubbed his face groaning then put his hands on top of yours "We both tried separately but…it doesn’t mean we can’t try together, work with me…I’m not giving up on us, I’ll wait years if meant for you to come back with me to our dimension"

"But your family-"

"You are my family too!" He tightened his grip on your hands "and I’m not gonna lose you again"

You sniffed then hid your face in on his back "I’m sorry, I’ll try to help"

"No, don’t be, it’s my fault and…I’m the one who’s sorry, you deserve the life I promised you and more..I promise to give you that, it’s the least I can do but do you trust me?" He ask’s looking back at you.

You nodded your head "I do, I trust you with my life"



[specialagentlokitty]

Negan x reader - trade skill

Hello. I was wondering if you could please do Negan X reader, where Negan is unable to find Lucille and thinks that someone has taken her. So he has people to search every area in Alexandria (I think it is), only to later find out that Y/N took Lucille in order to clean and repair her, and accidentally forgot to notify him. - Anon💜

You didn’t know why a lot of the saviours were taken to Alexandria, you had a thought maybe it had something to do with Rick not doing what he was supposed to be doing.

You weren’t all too sure but you didn’t really have the time to find out either, you were busy with your own project which is why you refused Dwight when he came to get you to go with him.

Was it the smartest choice?

Definitely not, and you knew you were going to get it in the neck from him and most likely Negan after, but you were always in some kind of trouble.

Sitting on your bed, you picked up the pair of wire cutters, carefully getting ready to cut the barbed wire.

You had already caught your arm once, you just tired a bandanna around it and carried on working.

You had to be careful, you didn’t was to break it, and you had to do everything exactly right otherwise you would be more screwed than you were going to be.

Setting the old barbed wire aside on the floor, you picked up the new one and looked at it.

It was a little rusted with the weather, but it was in a lot better condition than the other one.

Wrapping it around like the other was, you nodded to yourself a little.

Setting the bat aside, you got up, grabbing everything you had been using to fix it you shoved it into a box and left the room.

Making your way down to where the workers were, you walked over and set the box down.

“I’ve not used it all so I’m sure someone can get some use out of it.” You said.

The man looked up, nodding her head as she set the box on the floor.

Humming to yourself, you began to browse through the other things that were laid out on the table, looking for something of interest.

Finding nothing, you decided to head outside instead, looking for some part of a fallen tree or a decent sized branch for a new project.

“Hey (Y/N)?”

You looked to one of the other saviours.

“We got problem with the walkers out front, a few got free somehow.”

You sighed, stopped what you were doing and you pulled out your knife, following him to the front where some of the walkers were banging on the fence.

“You said a fucking few, this is a mini horde dumbass.”

He just shrugged and you glared at him.

“Go get the fucking pole idiot.”

He grabbed the pole and you tried to make quick work of clearing the walkers that were building up.

You heard the cars and trucks pulling up and you ignored it, stabbing the final walker in the head, you turned to the man who went to leave.

“Not so fast, you’re waiting here I’ll deal with your ass in a minute.”

Opening the gate, you walked through the bodies, maybe your way to the far end of the fence, slowly looking along it.

For the walkers to get in the gap would have had to be pretty big, so it wasn’t hard to finally find it.

Kneeling down, you carefully inspected the fence and grabbed some zip ties from your jacket to seal it temporarily for now.

Making your way back over you looked at Simon.

“Sort your dumbass out Simon, this fucker hasn’t been checking the fence, there’s a massive hole.”

“You fix things, you sort it.” He said.

“Not my job asshole.”

He stuck his middle finger up at you and you did the same thing, walking over to the doors to head back inside but you stopped by Dwight.

“What was the trip about anyway?”

He glanced at you.

“He’s pissed someone took that stupid bat of his, I’d stay clear.”

You slowly nodded your head and glanced at the leader.

You had three options, either sneak the bat back into his room, leave it somewhere for someone else or come clean.

You didn’t want someone else to take the heat for your actions, and you couldn’t exactly sneak it into his room so with a heavy sigh, you walked over to where he was stood.

“Negan?”

“What?” He snapped.

He turned around and glared at you and you subconsciously took a step back.

“I know where Lucille is…” you mumbled.

“Where?!”

“I uh… could you follow me?”

Negan didn’t say anything as he trailed behind you, and you took his to your room, opening the door and you gestured to the table.

He walked inside, picking up the bat, carefully inspecting it.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing with her?”

He slowly turned around and you stepped inside the room, closing the door so nobody passing by could look in.

“I uh.. I forgot to tell you…”

“What the fuck were you doing with her?” He growled out.

You sighed, heading under your table you pulled out a box and set it down, showing him to contents.

“I noticed that Lucille was breaking, and you left her on the table so I decided to fix her and forgot to tell you.”

“Why?”

You shrugged a little.

“I like fixing things a guess, plus you wouldn’t be Negan without Lucille.”

Negan stared at you and you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, but you could feel his eyes practically burning into you.

You couldn’t tell if he was still angry or not, and part of you didn’t want to know.

At least if he wanted to kill you for taking his beloved bat then you wouldn’t see it coming so it would make it easier.

“Look at me.”

You took the box, setting it back under the table and began to inspect a few of your things, just doing anything to avoid looking at him.

“I said look. At. Me.”

You turned around, connecting your eyes with his, he wore a blank expression and you watched as he slowly began to grin.

It was that grin that sent a chill down your spine, the same grin that you knew was the last thing some people saw.

“She looks just as good as the first day I made her, shit (Y/N), if I knew you were so handy I woulda moved you ranks ages ago.”

He put the bat on his shoulder, stuffing a hand in his pocket as he looked at you.

“What do you want? Name me one thing and it’s yours.”

“Anything?”

“Damn straight.”

You went quiet for a moment.

“You got anything else I can fix?”

Negan blinked a little in confusion.

“I just gave you permission to ask for anything, anything you fuckin’ want, anything at all, and you want to fix shit?”

You shrugged a little and he laughed.

“Fucking weird as ball man, but alright. I got a few things for you, you’re to return them directly to me.”

“Yes sir.”

Negan began looking around at a few things you had already repaired and made.

It was why he kept you around at first, you were just handy when it came to fixing something that had broke.

He turned around to look over at you.

“How’d you know how to fix her?”

You paused what you were doing.

“My dad owned a repair shop, mostly just household shit, but he could fix up other crap too, loved baseball.”

Negan slowly nodded his head.

“Next time you take Lucille without asked I’ll start breaking fingers.”

“Understood.”

He smirked at you, and he picked up a little figurine you had fixed of a baseball player you didn’t even know the name to.

“I’m taking this too.”

With that he left and you let out a sigh of relief.

Maybe you shouldn’t have drawn more attention to yourself, but in the world it was now, you needed to have people you could rely on, so you needed to prove yourself to Negan if you wanted a chance of being kept around and surviving.

Maybe you didn’t agree with how he did things, but you sometimes had to do these things in order to survive

[michelle-is-writing]

Protector, Warren Worthington iii

Word Count: 4.5k~

I had been best friends with Warren ever since I met him.

Throughout our years in school, Warren and I had always stuck by each other's side. We hung out together, ate lunch with each other, and nearly forgot about all those people around us who would point out his wings to hurt him. It was like we were in our own little world, and in a way, we were.

We met in the second grade while our class was in the library. While looking for a book, I found Warren, huddled up behind a bookshelf in the elementary school library. He was red in the face and crying as he held his knees close to him. Instantly, I noticed his wings, of course - how could I not?

However, this didn't stop me from going up and asking him what was wrong. I can still remember the way his curls bounced against his scalp as he turned his attention away from his lap and up to me, quickly wiping away his tears to cover up his emotions. Despite being so young, he knew how to expertly do this as he pretended that nothing was wrong and he wasn't crying merely thirty seconds ago.

"What's wrong?" I asked, sitting beside him. I saw him tense up, his back straightening up as he laid his legs out in front of him instead of hugging them to his chest.

"Nothing," He instantly answered me, once again, pretending as if everything wasn't as it seemed.

Instead of saying anything more, I let the boldness I had as an eight-year-old takeover and pulled him into my arms, his figure becoming even tenser. Although, he didn't pull away, and instead, just stayed in that position until I spoke up.

"The kids are mean to me too," I told him, his breath catching in his throat. "And they shouldn't be because you seem pretty cool," I explained with a smile as he turned his eyes up to look at me again. "No one else here has wings, and they're really pretty."

From then on, we were practically inseparable. We weren't seen without each other, and despite bullies picking on us, we didn't let their words bother us. Even as we got older, nothing changed, and in spite of living in an expensive house with nearly triple the amount of space that my house was, Warren chose to stay at my place most nights. His parents didn't care about what he did, and my parents were more than happy to have him over.

When we reached high school, our friendship turned into an actual relationship between two lovebirds (no pun intended). Now we really were inseparable.

However, this changed one night when he went out to grab something from the store. I was sick, and needed medicine; so, being the thoughtful boyfriend he was, he decided he would go out and get some. I guess we underestimated how much mutants were hated in the area as Warren never came back.

Now it's been three months since he disappeared.

Every night since, I went searching for him, only to return to some hotel or hostel without him. I don't know what came over me tonight though. For all my life, I've always been told to avoid putting myself in dangerous settings, and yet, all of those lessons were cast away as I heard people screaming and hollering down an empty and dark alleyway while in Munich. My searching had taken me far away from home, but I wasn't going to stop until I found Warren.

Following the sounds of excitement and fury, I found a hidden door that led to what seemed to be a fighting ring. People surround the caged area, but I push through them, ignoring their waving arms with money held high. I stop at the metal fence separating the people from the ring, only to gasp in horror as my eyes fall over the white, fluffy wings I've loved for many years.

"Warren..." I hear his name being whispered through my lips, tears forming in my eyes as I look at his hurt and pained figure. Fighting for his life against another mutant, he spits blood from his mouth as he wipes away the blood forming on the cut across his cheek. The tattered t-shirt he wears, the same thing he wore the night he disappeared, barely hangs onto his shoulders by a few strips of fabric, the band emblem on the front no longer being recognizable. His arms have fresh bruises forming all along the skin while fading bruises covers the visible parts of torso. How the hell did he get here?

Too shocked to move, I watch as Warren throws a punch at the other mutant, only to hit the fence in front of him, the silver eliciting sparks as soon as Warren touches it. "Shit!" He yells while the blue mutant seemingly teleports to different parts of the cage, only to receive the same treatment as Warren did. Hearing his voice after so long makes me nearly choke on the air in my throat, the tears now falling freely. Seeing Warren makes me want to rip through the fence and save him, but seeing that the metal fence is electric, I can't simply do that.

Blinking the oncoming tears away, I glance in every corner of the underground hideaway and try to find something that might resemble a control panel. It isn't until I see a switch box on what seems to be a surveying floor that I begin running to it, successfully climbing up the steps to the higher level and stopping in front of it. Gazing back to the fighting ring, I see Warren shouting at the dodging mutant while people standing around the cage yell out vile words of hate and absolute greed.

"Warren!" I shout his name as loud as I can, placing my hand on the handle to the electrical switch. Instantly, his head darts toward the voice calling his name, every inch of his being relaxing once he sees me. I smile at him before nodding, his eyes following my hand as it begins pushing the handle downward. Just before the electricity goes out, I see Warren's dirty wings perk up just as the entire underground arena goes pitch black.

In the darkness, the people's screams die down while the clinging sound of the fence being ripped apart follows it. Mere seconds pass before I familiar arms wrap around me and tug me close to their body, Warren's wings flapping rapidly as he lifts us into the air and to the hidden door I entered through. Once we're outside, we quickly run as far as we can before stopping in another alley, far away from the other one.

As soon as we stop, Warren wraps his arms around me and pulls me close to him, his lips immediately attaching to mine in a fervent and much-needed kiss. His hand on my waist never falters in its hold on me, and instead, it squeezes the flesh there as if he were testing if I was real or not.

"I'm here," I tell him, sliding my hands down his face as endless tears fall from his cheeks and onto my hands. Staring into his tear-filled eyes, I can't help but cry tears of happiness as well. "I'm right here."

Nodding, Warren folds his wings behind him, slightly wincing at the pain of them conforming against his back. "Fucking hell," He mutters, placing his forehead against mine, his eyes closed. A few seconds pass of him just holding me before he kisses me once more. "I've missed you so fucking much."

Our sweet reunion is cut short by a black vehicle slamming on their brakes at the end of the alleyway. "Warren," I say his name, concerned at the sight in front of us. Warren turns around, only for his wings to burst out again, shielding me from seeing anything. Peeking under one of the long feathers, I see two men leave the vehicle before one of them points at Warren.

"That's him!" The man yells, "Get him!"

In an instant, Warren swings around and wraps his arms and wings around me, protecting me from the flurry of oncoming bullets. What appears to be eight shots sounds throughout the alley before the same car speeds off again as Warren begins to topple over. Was he shot?

Trying to catch him before he falls on his face, I wrap my arms around Warren and hold him up for a few seconds, only for his size to take over mine and fall to the side. Landing on his back with me on top of him, Warren waves his hand at me while shaking his head, his eyes shut. "I'm fine," He mutters, his voice now suddenly tired and drained.

Eyes wide and concerned, I turn him onto his side and look over him to see blood pouring from his wings. Between the layers of feathers, I find what seems to be four bullet wounds, causing me to practically lose it as the crimson liquid touches my hands. "No, no, no, no, no," I mutter uncontrollably as I place him onto his back. "Warren, Warren," I repeat his name, running my hand against the side of his face, his own blood smearing across his flawless cheek. "Warren, don't go to sleep!"

At my heartbroken plea, Warren opens his eyes, frowning at the sight of tears pouring from my eyes. "Don't cry, my love," He begs, his voice even weaker than before. He lifts a hand to my face, doing the same to me just as I had done to him. I quickly place my hand over his, holding it there as I feel the warmth in his skin begin slowly leaving it. "I... I love you..." He whispers, his eyes closing once again.

Just like a few seconds ago, I feel every ounce of sanity leave me as I watch the love of life wither away in front of me. "Warren, don't do this to me!" I shout, the tears now falling like a waterfall. I could barely manage not seeing him for the three hellish months when he was missing - I can't live the rest of my life without him.

"Warren!" I scream his name again, utter desperation being the only recognizable thing in my voice. Releasing a sob, I push my head against his chest and hear his still-beating heart. However, I know that if I don't get him to a hospital within the next few seconds, his heart won't continue beating like that. But what hospital will even help us?

"Ma'am?" I hear a woman's soft voice coming from the end of the alley, causing me to jerk my head up and see a blonde woman standing twenty feet away. Concerned, she walks closer to me before kneeling beside Warren and me, the knees of her pants becoming stained with his spilled blood on the alley ground. His wings are the first things that catch her focus, making me want to hold him closer.

"Please, don't hurt him," I beg her, my hand holding his hand a bit tighter. "He-he's a-" The woman cuts me off.

"He's a mutant," She points out, looking over at me. Still crying, I nod once, watching as a small smile appears on her face. Within a short second, the fair skin she once had transforms into blue flesh with darker blue scales, her eyes turning yellow and green while her hair changes into a much brighter orange/red.

"It's okay," She assures me, placing a hand on my shoulder. "I am too, and I can help."

Her words, not to mention her sudden change of looks, shock me, but I nod at her, ready to do anything this woman says if it means saving Warren.

"Where's his family?" She asks me, her hand remaining on my shoulder as she kneels on the ground beside me.

"Me," I quickly answer her, tears still falling from my eyes. "I am his family."

"You're not a mutant," She points out, shaking her head with squinted eyes as she looks at me a bit confused. "And you care for him?"

"He's my best friend, the love of my life..." I answer her, my heart clenching as the words leave my lips. "Please, you have to help us!"

The woman nods, giving me a small, encouraging smile. "Kurt!" She abruptly yells, a teenage boy with blue skin and carvings appearing behind her with a blue puff of smoke following. I instantly recognize him as the other mutant in the pin with Warren earlier, and in spite of this, he doesn't try to get back at Warren while he's down.

Pulling his hand to get closer, she makes him get on our level before wrapping his arm around her and me. The stranger, Kurt, then wraps his other arm around Warren's almost lifeless body and tugs him a bit closer as well. "Get us all to the mansion nurse's ward - now!"

With the woman's last words, Kurt somehow does so, causing us to suddenly be in a nurse's station only a second later. This all confuses the living hell out of me, but with Kurt having a tail and red eyes, and not to mention blue skin like the lady, I don't know if I should be questioning the normalcy of anything at the moment.

Immediately, three scrubbed nurses rush up to where we are and pick Warren up from the ground. "He was shot, multiple times," The blue woman quickly explains, standing up from the ground. "He'll need blood, and you need to act quick."

Listening to her, the three nurses nod before taking an unconscious Warren back to what I could guess is surgery. Numb, I sit on the cold tile floor as I reach my blood-covered hands up to cross my arms and hold myself, my eyes stuck on the swinging doors that Warren was just carried through. Beside me is Kurt as he places a consoling hand on my shoulder, giving me a small smile.

"He vill be alright," Kurt assures me, his words helping me out a little. Giving him a small nod of my head, I take his held-out hand and stand up with him. "That is Raven, by the way," He adds as the woman from before moves to stand in front of me, taking my hand in hers despite it stained crimson.

"This is the Xavier mansion," She explains to me, "You're safe; we won't hurt you."

At her words, I nod. "I know," I tell her, giving her a small smile. "I trust you."

Smiling back at me, Mystique's eyes flicker behind me before her mouth slightly parts, her hand holding mine slightly faltering. "Who is this, Raven?" I hear a soft British voice speak up, causing me to slowly turn around and see a man in a wheelchair now in front of me. His eyes quickly catch my blood-covered hands and arms, shock taking over him. "Dear heavens, what happened to you, dear?"

I go to answer him, but my voice defeats me in doing so. Instead, Mystique speaks for me. "Charles, her and a fellow mutant were shot at in an alleyway when Kurt and I were passing by. He has wings, that's where most of the bullets hit him," She explains to him, "She has no ill will toward any of us - she just wants her boyfriend to survive."

A few seconds pass before the man, Charles, nods, staring at me with a frown. "I'm sorry to hear that, love," He tells me, giving me a single nod. "Raven, help her get cleaned up and fetch some fresh clothes for her as well," With that, Charles wheels himself out of the room and into the hallway where he enters the room at the end.

In a puff of blue smoke, Kurt leaves Mystique and me, letting us head to what I presume is her room where she wets a washcloth and begins rubbing the drying blood from my arms. "He will be alright," She tells me, saying Kurt's exact words from moments ago. "Trust me."

I nod at her words, but I can't believe them myself. What if Warren isn't okay? What if one of the bullets when through his spine and he's now paralyzed? I couldn't see all of his wounds so I don't know where they all hit him, minus the few I could see in his wings. What if the nurses and doctors can't do anything and he dies on the table? I can't bear to lose him - not again.

With my arms their original (s/c) color, I change into a pair of pajama pants and matching top with a school emblem given to me by Raven before walking with her to Charles' office. Stopping in front of his desk, Mystique and I watch as the man from earlier sits at his desk with his attention stuck on the novel stuck in his hands. However, it doesn't take long for him to notice our presence and put the book down with his glasses following.

"(Y/n), is it?" Charles asks me, turning his attention up to me. Surprised, I hesitantly nod as he speaks up once more. "No need to worry, dear," He assures me with a smile despite my caution. "I'm able to read minds and communicate through them as well," Charles further explains. "Raven and I were talking while she helped you with your arms and hands,"

"I understand you've been through a lot in the past hour, so I won't force you to talk about it," Charles tells me, making me let out a small sigh of relief. "But I am a bit concerned over the fact that you were in such a predicament that your partner was shot," Holding his hand out, Charles waits for me to place my hand in his. "I won't scour through your brain and look at everything you've ever seen or done - I just want to see what all transpired tonight."

Hesitating, I bite my lip in thought before shakily putting my hand in Charles, his touch being warm and welcoming. I feel as Charles does what he told me he would do, the images of the past month flashing before my eyes. Warren's disappearance, me finding him, and helping him get out are all shown before me like a home movie shot from my perspective. Because of this, I gasp a little, shocked at Charles' ability to do such a thing.

Slowly slipping his hand from mine, Charles' eyebrows furrow in thought before flashing his eyes up to mine, confusion written all over them. "You're a human with no powers or anything," He points out, slightly pausing in his words. "And yet, you've always loved a mutant?"

His words come out as a question, but to me, they're a true statement. I love Warren - I always have - and nothing about him will ever change that. "He's human just as I am," I tell Charles, giving him a small smile. "but, with wings," I further add, my smile growing sad as I lightly shrug. "How could I not love my angel?"

My words washing over him, Charles smiles back. "I like you," He tells me, Raven putting a reassuring hand on my shoulder. "Your friend, I think he'll pull through. After all, he has a great incentive."

Because of Charles' words, I smile and give him a nod of thanks just as a question rises to my mind. "What... what is this place?" I ask, gesturing to the overall building. I know it has to be an establishment of some sort going by the built-in medical wing and wide hallways.

"This," Charles states, pointing his finger to the ceiling while his eyes remain on mine. "Is Xavier's a school for gifted youngsters," He informs me before nodding his head once. "This is a school specialized for children with mutations such as Warren, or Kurt, whom you met earlier."

Furrowing my eyebrows together, another question comes to mind. "Why have I never heard of this place before?" I ask, receiving a small smile.

"We're a relatively small school," Charles simply explains, "Ultimately, if your boyfriend would want to join, he could - now, you're not a mutant, but the unique and understanding attitude you give off, I'm sure we could work something out for you too."

His words make my cheeks turn pink in response to the compliment as I thank him, turning my eyes toward the ground as I try to fight the ever-growing smile on my lips. Just as I do this, I see Charles put a hand to his forehead as his eyebrows furrow before looking over at Mystique with a smile. "Raven, take her back to the medical ward," he tells the fiery-haired woman. "It seems that her friend was easily operable and now they're just waiting for him to wake up."

Almost immediately, I turn and follow Mystique out of the room with my pace just a little faster than hers. Soon enough, we walk through the doors and directly to the beds where only one of them is occupied, and the sleeping body in it is Warren's. The window behind him shines down on him with the bright and early morning sun highlighting his now washed and pure white wings that lie behind him. The sight is a complete contrast to what I saw only an hour ago with the almost black sky darkening everything around us and only emphasizing the dirt and grime that covered Warren's perfect wings.

"We told you he'd be okay," I hear Mystique's gentle voice beside me say, causing me to nod with an onrush of tears rising in my eyes. They were right, and my Warren is okay.

Moving closer to him, I sit beside Warren on the bed and take his hand in mine, his unconscious body unresponsive toward my touch and his perfect face never changing. "I'll let you two be alone," Mystique speaks up before doing as she says and walking back toward the door. Once I hear the swinging door shut, the tears residing in my eyes quickly fall over the barrier and down my face as I try to hold in my sobs.

When you love someone, you never want to see them in pain or hurting, and when they're laid up in a hospital bed with consciousness being a waiting game, it hurts you. It physically hurts you to the point where your chest feels heavy with dread, and your stomach feels sick with worry. It's terrible, and I wish there was something I could've done to protect Warren from getting shot.

"I'm so sorry," I sob, turning my eyes away from him and toward the floor. Raising my free hand to cover my mouth as the sobs tumble out, I don't notice Warren's hand gently squeezing mine until I feel the bed beneath me slightly moves.

Immediately looking back over to him, I see his eyes flutter open and quickly dart to me, confusion taking over his tired face as soon as he sees my crying form. "Why..." Warren slowly starts speaking, his voice raspy and scratchy with sleep. "Why are you crying, love?" He finishes his question, now trying to sit up.

"No, no, baby," I usher him to continue lying flat, moving to stand on my knee on the side of his bed before pushing his shoulders back down onto the mattress. Despite this, he still doesn't listen and moves to wrap his arms around me before pulling me fully onto the bed and holding me to his chest. Finally, Warren does lie back down, but in a matter of seconds, his wings are fluttering around me like any other time I'd be on top of him. My eyes quickly catch sight of the now bandaged wounds, and now that I get a better look, I see that there was one more bullet-wound than I initially thought. "Warren, your stitches!"

"It's okay, love," He sleepily responds, leaning his head back to look up at me with a happy face. "I'm so damn happy to see you," Warren confesses, his eyes gazing over me as if I were a precious gem.

If it weren't for the nurses cleaning the dirt from his face and body, I wouldn't have been able to assess the full damage the fighting ring did to him. Above his left eye is a healing bruise that covers a majority of the side of his forehead, and his bottom lip is split, making it swollen. On top of all of that, his green eyes are sunken in and practically taken over by dark circles.

Still, he continues staring at me, acting as if nothing is bothering him until a look of confusion fall over his face. "Now, are you going to tell me why you were crying?" Warren repeats his question from earlier, making me shake my head as more tears rise to my eyes.

"You almost died, Warren," I inform him, his face still unchanging. "I've been without you for three damn months, and the night I get you back, I almost lost you again - for good!" I add on, raising a hand to wipe away my fast-falling tears.

However, Warren beats me to it and places his hands against my cheeks where he gently holds me, his face now soft. I guess he hasn't assessed the severity of the situation. That, or he hasn't taken the time to fully realize that he has stitched-up bullet wounds adorning his wings.

"I'm sorry," Warren apologizes after a few seconds of silence. Despite expecting those two words, it still doesn't hit me any easier as I'm sobbing once again, this time, into Warren's chest.

Holding me close, Warren waits a few moments before moving his hands back to my face and turning me to look at him directly. As soon as he gets the chance, Warren places his rough lips on top of mine, the skin chapped from the harsh things he's been put through. Despite crying moments ago, my tears ultimately stop as I come to the realization of how much I've missed the feeling of Warren's lips on mine. Chapped or not, his lips are the pure definition of Heaven, and when they're on top of mine, it's like pure ecstasy.

Pulling away for air, I pant above Warren as he does the same, his hands now sliding down to grip my waist once again. "I love you," He tells me, "And I've missed you- God, how I've missed you," Warren adds, shaking his head as a small, almost unnoticeable tear falls down his cheek. "Each day was hell without you, and I can't be without you, not again."

Smiling at him, I lean down once more and peck his soft cheek before nuzzling my head next to his on the pillow, his hold on me never changing in the slightest. "You won't have to, Angel," I tell him, watching his lips quirk up in a smile at my nickname for him. Deciding on leaving the explanation of where we're at for later, I close my eyes alongside Warren and fall asleep, finally able to relax knowing he and I can be together with no one to stop or hurt us.

[the-californicationist]

Good Fences (Fluffuary #03)

FEB03: Mutual Pining

You’d enjoyed having dinner with John on your little shared balcony. He was every bit a gentleman, even if he was mostly joking around with you. He pulled out your chair, and he plated your dishes like a chef, serving you as if it was a real date. Part of you wished it was, but the other part of you felt guilty. 

You had a boyfriend, after all. It didn’t seem like you did, though. He was never around, and when he was, he always made an excuse to leave. He worked in a senator’s office, and was “stuck at work” more than any normal person would be. You knew you needed to break up with him, but you just hadn’t found the right moment. 

When you told John about your situation, he seemed to sober up a bit, obviously surprised since he’d never seen anyone around your place. 

“Yeah, he doesn’t come to Bethesda,” you confessed as you twirled the spaghetti noodles around your fork, watching as the pasta slipped through its sauce, “He says it would be too far from the office.”

“Never? It’s not that far,” John said, a little perturbed. 

“I didn’t think so, but it is what it is,” you shrugged, “Sometimes I wonder why we’re still pretending to be together when we’re clearly not.”

“Why are you, love?” He asked you, very forward. 

You looked up at him, surprised at his challenge. You didn’t have a good answer. 

The conversation moved to work and to family and to friends. You learned about his coworkers, and even though he was vague, you learned about some of the missions they’d been on. He would light up like a candle with smiles and laughter at some of the stories, but sometimes he’d become very serious and bottle himself up when he told you about the others. John was a complex man, but he craved simplicity. He wanted a world that was easy, and it made you wonder how much of his life had been hard.

In the week after you’d had dinner together, you and John were finding more and more reasons to be out on the balcony. He would smoke. You would water your plants. He would work on his laptop. You would read. Sometimes, he asked you to read to him. Those were your favorite moments. Then, one morning, you saw him through the window smoking as he usually did, but this time, he was completely shirtless.

You stared through the window like a hungry dog at a butcher’s shop, practically drooling at the meat on display. Goddamn he was gorgeous. As large as he looked in his clothes, he seemed even bigger out of them. His enormous, heavy muscles rippled beneath furry skin, and his shoulders and back were splattered with thousands of freckles. He was thick. There were abs, sure, but he was well-fed and powerful. His Adonis belt was round and heavy, cutting a deep v-shape that disappeared into his running shorts, and you imagined what those vanishing ruts would lead to.

Just when you let your mind wander a little too far, he walked over and knocked on your sliding glass door, scaring you half to death. You hoped he hadn’t seen you gawking at him. 

You slid it open and greeted him, 

“Hey, John, everything alright?”

He smiled, a bit embarrassed, 

“Ahh, I’m so sorry to bother you, but I’ve bloody locked myself out. Thought I put the latch down, but it has a mind of its own.”

“Sure, come in. I actually have a spare for that unit. I’m telling you, it’s the ghost. I bet she flipped the latch on you,” you joked.

Then, John Price stepped into your small space, and you got an up-close view of those mountainous shoulders of his. He smelled like his cigars and the sun. It was the outside scent of the warmth that clung to his skin that drew you in. He was peering down at you, watching you step in front of him as you let him through. For a moment, you breathed the same breath together, and you were so close, if you just tilted your head… your mouths might just…

“You might be right, love,” he chuckled, pulling you from your stunned state, taking the key from your hand, “Two days ago, I could’ve sworn I turned off the bath water, but it was running, full-on, in the middle of the night.”

“Spooky!” You laughed in shock, trying to cover up your flustered, pink cheeks with a casual laugh.

“Damn right. Anyway, thanks for this,” he nodded at you and returned to the patio.  

Two days later, your washing machine went out, and you were borrowing his. The same song and dance kept happening between you. You’d slide in past the other, sharing that same charged breath, and then you’d laugh it off. 

This time, it was the basket of clothes that saved you. 

“C’mon in, love. Washer’s there. Opposite side of yours, I’d expect,” he pointed to the old machine. 

“Yep,” you nodded, tossing in the load of clothes, “Thanks for letting me use yours for now. The guy said he’d be here for repairs tomorrow.”

“No harm done. But, uh…” he paused, smiling knowingly, “Don’t forget these.”

You watched as he bent to pick up a particularly skimpy romper that you slept in recently. It was white and pale blue with little bows on the straps. He dropped it in the wash as it filled with water, and you thought you heard the faintest laugh under his breath. 

“Want to watch a bit of telly while you wait for them?” He invited you deeper into the house, “Could pour you some wine, or we could call out for Chinese?”

If you stayed here one more moment, you were going to try to kiss this man, and you had to do everything you could to stop yourself,

“Oh, I’ve got some work I’m doing. Thank you though. I’ll be back in a half-hour or so?” You backed out of the hallway like a crawfish, trying to escape.

“C’mon. Take a break for a bit. You work too hard…” he purred, sinking into his sofa and patting the seat next to him invitingly. 

You shrugged, push-over that you were, and relented,

“Sure, it can wait.” 

“Can I get you a drink?”

“No.”

“Just watching Top Gear. That alright?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, sitting back gingerly in the sofa, feeling his body heat radiating along your left side. 

The show was playing, but you heard none of it. You couldn’t recall a single thing that happened. Something about men in cars? All you knew was how deeply your neighbor was breathing beside you. You knew the smell of his detergent, filling the air of his apartment, borrowed and blue, the suds of which were mingling into your clothes, making you smell as he smelled. How his sheets must smell. 

He was just sitting there, stock-still, but you could tell he was not watching the show either. He didn’t laugh when the audience laughed, he didn’t speed through commercials, and he was looking at you. It was subtle. He hadn’t even turned his head, but his eyes were on you, staring down your top. You’d just registered what you were wearing now, too late. You’d come over braless, in a tank top, those same hot pink almost-nothing shorts, and mismatched socks, scrunched at the ankles. 

Eons passed like this. The show kept playing, and you kept wanting, with every fiber in your being, to crawl over this man’s lap and crush your body to his, begging him to fuck you. It had been so long since anyone had even pretended to want to.

But, you didn’t move. You wouldn’t. It wouldn’t be proper, would it? Not while you were still in a relationship. Not while he was going to be your neighbor, perhaps permanently. So, you didn’t react.

You did, however, test his resolve. 

You uncrossed your legs and tucked them, criss-cross on the couch, spreading your thighs wide apart. You shifted as you did so, slyly pulling your top down just a little bit further, knowing your left strap had a nasty habit of falling off your shoulder. Like a charm, it did. 

You pretended not to notice, and you watched as he very much did. 

His hands spread wide and his palms ran flush across the denim of his jeans, down his legs, sweating, perhaps. His breathing quickened, and he now was very obviously staring down your shirt, his gaze pinned to your breasts. 

Suddenly brave, you looked up at him, and he didn’t shy away. He wasn’t ashamed. He simply met your eyes, took one of his fingers, and - as lightly as he could - dragged the strap back into place, swallowing hard against his enormous, scruffy Adam’s apple. 

You were still watching him, looking up into his face. You licked your lips, and his eyes went straight to them. You could almost taste his desire. 

Then, the buzz of the washing machine shocked you. It rang out through the whole house, and you rose to change it over. When you thought it was safe, you snuck a peek at the couch and its owner. He was still sitting there, but his hand had moved to his crotch, and he very clearly needed to readjust himself. Luckily, you were mostly out of his view, but you stored that mental image for later. 

“Hey,” you called out, “Can I borrow your bathroom?”

“Sure. Loo’s down the hall,” he called back.

You ducked into the small room and flipped on the light, staring at yourself in the mirror and reminding yourself that he was your neighbor, you had a boyfriend (no matter how absent), and you needed to get it together.

Check out the schedule here.

AO3 Link

[icarusredwings]

Finding home Au things that are canon (because I said so, and it's MY au so I can do whatever I want. Send me headcanons, and I'll approve them)

Gambit just got back from the void so he's just now meeting everyone. He looks a little different from how they remember since their gambit really was never a full team mate and rather then just some guy that helped Logan a couple of times. This being said hes meeting Rouge as a 35 year old linguistics teacher for a bunch of brats, flirting with her in the halls, trying to impress her all the time, etc. He wanted to have a cool class like how to use a Bo staff or tutor energy weilding kids but instead got stuck with sex ed. Because of this, he now makes a ton of jokes to Rouge about it (she's across the hall) but actually is really excited to start his cooking elective class this coming fall when he's considered a real team member.

Ororos heals click in the hall like they did when you were a kid and you could tell the principal is coming. She's almost always with a tea or a coffee, walkie talkie and keys jingling. She's very sweet but kids shit their pants if sent to Mrs. Munroes office, meanwhile Mr. Summers office is a nothing, just a lecture and a slap on the wrist. Aint no one actually scared of lasik because they know thw worst theyll get is community work for a couple of weeks but they ligit cry the second theyre sent to munroe's (especially if they know theyre guilty of a big prank or something)

The school gives out free hygiene products and depending on what you need you can special request it.

If students get too angry they are sent to Piotr's art room for art therapy. He surprisingly is very artistic and chill.

Forges shop class is working on a car with no weight limit and that can handle their heavy hitters (Colossus and Wolverine) both in the same car (most bust) as well as a car made from plastic recycling. They're working on it. Its only blown up once!!

Gambit makes breakfast for the staff and some students of they beg enough. He keeps bringing Rouge the first cup of coffee from the pot and has made her pancakes shaped like hearts multiple times. Watching her stab them and smother them make him... giggle helplessly.

Gambit🤝Watching their love intrests viscously stab and rip apart their meals with a boner wishing it was them🤝Wade

He's very respectful towards her, though and sometimes is a bit (COUGH a lot COUGH) of a kiss ass.

Hank's students have blown up the lab at least 4 times by now. One of those times was Wades fault for touching stuff he wasn't supposed to.

Kurt is very glad that Wade has taken over his Duel weaponry/swordsman class, so now he has time to start working out a pitch for a world's religion class+ sunday school. He still runs a fencing club, though.

Peter (quicksilver) has tried so many different positions, including music teacher of all different instruments. Now he just kinda lounges around in the game room and speed cleans the mansion after each day in like 2 minutes flat. Imagine being paid a full salary just for 2 minutes of work? And you get to live somewhere for free and play games all day? Fuck yeah.

Positions I've been thinking about:

Beast (Dr. Henry "Hank" McCoy) is the Vice-Principal, so he does orientation. He has multiple science classes, including biophysics, and has electives in philosophy and poetry.

Colossus (Piotr Rasputin) is an art teacher and handles art therapy

Gambit (Remy LeBeau) runs a sex-ed class and is hoping to soon get approved to run a cooking class next semester.

Nightcrawler (Kurt Wagner) has a fencing elective as well as a religion class, sunday school, and sometimes helps Morph with drama/theater. (Ex duel weaponry instructor)

Rogue (Anna Marie) is a Linguistics teacher who drabbles in social science. “Diction and Linguistics, with Professor Rogue” She can teach just about any language, but russian/german/ french/ spanish and Japanese are her main ones. She's who you go to if you dont understand English and need help. Almost all foreign students have her.

Cyclops (Scott Summers) is the headmaster. He has classes in Geometry, has an elective for leadership and communications (PFFT) as well as being the schools mobility/disability specialist. He, of course, specializes more with children who have trouble with their eyesight.

Storm (Ororo Munroe) is the Headmistress. She has an Environmental Science and Political Science class as well as a multi cultural elective.

Shadowcat (Katherine "Kitty" Pryde) has a comp-sci class and runs an ethics class.

“Ethics 101: Forgetting Everything You Ever Learned From Emma Frost, with Professor Pryde.”

Wolverine (Logan Howlett) is a(n occasional hand to hand combat/ martial arts) PE instructor. (Ex History teacher)

Jubilee is the schools event organizer, event coordinator, event manager, and more broadly, event professional, the ‘hip’ school counselor. "Activities Director & Counselor"

Morph is the director of drama acting and disguises (duh)

Laura is a graduating student In training under the Wolverine (Gabby is a student and is too young to be an understudy)

Yukio graduating student In training Under Storm or Rouge (I can't decide)

Negasonic teenage warhead (Ellie) graduating student In training under Jean Grey.

Mr. Wade Wilson (Deadpool) Is in training under Colossus. Duel weaponry/ swordsman tactics class instructor (plus whatever Logan's doing, he's very nosey and WILL cause issues if bored)

Jean Grey is an english teacher, has a class on psychology, and drabbles in physics.

Ice man (Bobby) is the school financal advisor/accountant and runs a business elective class.

Forge is a Shop teacher.

Quicksilver (Peter maximoff) Janitor, housekeeping, music teacher, replaced original Logan as PE teacher for a while, target practice, teaches fast kids how to avoid running into walls, always in the game room, stock/ errand boy, gets bored super quickly, sports instructor, Read almost all the books in the library, likes swimming, mainly just lays around waiting for something fun to do, his father causes trouble sometimes which he thinks is entertaining but also hella embaressing.

I'm unfortunately left without a history teacher, so shoot me any ideas :)

[writeforfandoms]

Born for Greatness 2

Find the series masterlist

For those of you who liked the world building: Good news! We’ve got lots of it this time. Plus we get to see Soap and Gaz’s shifted forms. 

Warnings: Brief violence, anti-shifter rhetoric, non-graphic injuries, non-graphic violence, swearing. 

Word count: 3k

It took a few days to get the scheduling pinned down, but you managed it. You also watched every time the pack worked or trained with the soldiers, keeping an eye out for any other malcontents. Fortunately, you seemed to only have a handful of those to deal with. You got the requisition forms sent in. 

And then you defaulted to the normal etiquette, which you’d had to teach dozens of times already. 

“There are really only a few rules you’ll need to remember,” you told the first group. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to teach you the history of the world part one.” A few of them laughed at that, and you grinned. “Okay. First thing to remember: staring them in the eyes is a challenge. You do not want to do that. Pick another point on their face - forehead or nose, or even chin. Shows you’re paying attention without accidentally challenging anyone.” 

“I thought that was for dogs,” one bold soldier piped up. 

You wiggled one hand back and forth in a ‘so-so’ motion. “In actual canines, yes. In shifters, it’s more complicated. They’ve developed some of their own social norms, including eye contact. Besides, this is a general etiquette class, not specific to the pack residing here currently. Some shifters don’t give a shit about eye contact. Others are very picky about it.” You shrugged. “These are best practices.” 

The soldier who’d piped up nodded, apparently content for now. 

“Next rule–and this one is arguably more important, so pay attention.” You paused a moment to stare at the class. “Do not touch without permission.” 

There were a couple incredulous scoffs, a bit of confusion, but mostly dawning understanding.

“I know it’s tempting,” you continued. “Especially with the canine shifters. They look friend-shaped! They are not friend-shaped. Without permission. You always, always ask permission first.” You paused again. “Or else you end up like one idiot I knew who lost two fingers.” 

“Two?” someone yelped. 

“Uh huh.” You sighed in remembered exasperation. “I was with a friend who had shifted, and this idiot thought my friend was a dog and decided to pet him. My friend is not a dog. He’s a wolverine.” 

“Wait,” one of them started with a little bit of panic. “You’re friends with a wolverine shifter?!”

“Sure am,” you agreed with pride. “He’s a grumpy bastard, but I’m stuck with him now.” 

There was a new level of respect in their eyes as they looked at you. You tried not to let it go to your head.

“So what are the other rules?”

“Just one more, really. This one is usually the hardest for people to follow.” You paused, tapping your fingers against your thigh. “If any of the shifters go feral, do not, for any reason, raise a weapon against them. Not a tranq gun, not a nerf gun, not a knife. Nothing.”

“Not even to defend ourselves?” This one sounded incredulous.

“Chances are good that they will recognize you as… pack-adjacent, is the best way to put it. They work with you every day, they’ll recognize you by scent, if nothing else. As long as you don’t start acting aggressive, they won’t either. They’ll be focused on whatever set them off.” You shrugged. “So don’t be the idiot to send them feral, and don’t be aggressive. This is also only if they go feral, which is not likely.” 

“What if they attack us?” This was one of the ones who was on the fence. You’d kind of hoped she’d speak up. 

“Defend yourself if you have to.” You shrugged. “It is highly unlikely that they will attack without provocation, even when feral. Best practice when a shifter goes feral is to back off.”

“You ever dealt with a feral shifter?” The same woman, meeting your gaze almost challengingly. 

“I have.” You smiled gently. “My wolverine friend, for one. And I’ve assisted in more than a dozen feral incidents over the years.” 

Another ripple of respect passed through the crowd. You spotted Gaz and Soap hanging out just outside the door and grinned. 

“Like I said, these are best practice kind of rules. I will be watching to see if you implement them.”

“What happens if we don’t?” The man who asked sounded very tentative. Good. 

“I hand over a list of names to the Lieutenant and let him decide what to do with you.” You shrugged. 

That got them to shut up very fast, and you dismissed the lot of them. You noticed with pleased satisfaction that many of them remembered not to look the two shifters in the eye. 

“Well, that seemed easy,” Soap said, walking up to you and draping one arm over your shoulders. 

“You really have a wolverine friend?” Gaz asked, waiting until Soap had walked you out of the room to fall in on your other side, leaving you bracketed between the two.

On the one hand, this was a good sign of acceptance. On the other hand… this felt like mischief. “I sure do,” you agreed. “And he really is a grouchy bastard.”

“So he’s your pack?” The question was playful, but the look in Soap’s eyes was entirely serious. 

You frowned. “Not… exactly?” You wrinkled your nose, trying to figure out how much to tell them. “He’s packless by choice, but he says I’m the closest he’ll get.” 

The two exchanged a look over your head. “But you still do this,” Gaz pried gently. 

“Well, yeah. He’s got his life, I’ve got mine. I go visit him when he calls, sometimes he shows up at my apartment for a few days.” You looked between the two and then sighed. “We are not involved, romantically or physically.” 

They both looked sheepish, which meant that had been what they’d been wondering about. 

“And what mischief are you trying to drag me into?” You frowned, looking around. You didn’t recognize this area of the base. This… could be bad.

“Not mischief,” Soap immediately protested. “We’re showin’ you around!”

“Ah yes, the tour with no sign posts, no running commentary, and ominous dragging of a victim between you two,” you drawled. “Definitely showing me around.” 

Gaz laughed. “This one,” he said to Soap, stepping ahead to open a door into a quiet courtyard. Somehow, there was a natural space here, left to grow as it liked, completely surrounded by the buildings. A single tree grew in the middle of the courtyard, leaves swaying in the breeze. 

“Oh yeah,” you muttered, looking around. “Feeling totally safe here.” 

“You’ll see.” Gaz shot you an amused look before he started stripping. You looked pointedly up at the tree, even as Soap laughed at your modesty and started stripping as well. 

A soft woof let you know it was okay to look, so you did. 

A dog was standing next to you, tail wagging. A Belgian Malinois, if you remembered right. (You were less up to date on dog breeds, to your very private dismay.) He woofed again, tail wagging a little faster. 

And beyond him was a wolf, gray with a black saddle and lighter gray underside. The wolf wagged his tail slowly, carefully. 

“You two are trouble,” you said, though you couldn’t stop your grin as you lowered yourself to sit on the ground. “What, your LT showed off so now you get to do the same?” 

Soap, the malinois, woofed again and sat in front of you. Gaz sauntered over too, sitting next to Soap and showing off the size difference between them. The wolf was definitely bigger. 

“Yes, you’re very handsome boys,” you agreed, grinning. “And if your Alpha asks, this was your idea, not mine.” 

“That I’ll believe.”

You gasped, nearly falling over at the sudden voice behind you but for Soap darting forward to brace you. “Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ,” you groaned, hanging your head. “How the fuck are you so quiet?” 

“Habit.” Price still didn’t look apologetic as he stepped around you and Soap, lowering himself to sit next to Gaz instead. “How did the first class go?”

You shrugged, sitting upright again. But Soap stayed pressed against your side. “Well, I think. They paid attention, at least. I’ve got one more class today, and I’ll be watching to see if they actually take the lessons to heart.”

Price nodded, not shifting even as Gaz draped himself across his Alpha’s lap. And if that wasn’t a good visual of just how big Price was… That could be distracting. You swallowed and looked at Soap instead. 

“May I touch you?” you asked him softly. Sure, he’d initiated, but you didn’t want to presume.

He shoved his head under your hand, unsubtly asking for each skritches, and you laughed quietly as you obliged. 

“He’s a right menace,” Price said, pulling your gaze back to him. “Won’t leave you alone if you don’t put him in his place.”

“I’ll make sure to let him know if he gets annoying.” You smiled, smoothing your hand down Soap’s back. 

Price snorted softly but stayed quiet, watching you carefully. He was still wary. Which was fair. Honestly, you hadn’t expected this much acceptance from Soap and Gaz, not so quickly. But they were both younger still, and probably just happy to have a new person to play with. Canine shifters especially were more accepting. 

Gently, you nudged Soap away from you. “I need to get some coffee before the next group,” you said, patting the top of his head. You paused, gaze darting to Price’s eyes and then up. “Alpha.”

He nodded once, dismissing you silently, and you pushed yourself to your feet, brushing off your backside as you went back inside. 

The second class went just as well as the first, and you took a brief break to check on the rec room. Popcorn seemed to go fast, which you noted down, and a few other snacks. You made sure to add those to the base grocery list, marking them specifically for the pack. 

That done, you checked on the status of your requisitions. Then you made a couple phone calls regarding those requisitions. 

And by the time you were done with that, it was late, and you hadn’t eaten yet. Grumbling a little, you dragged yourself to the mess. 

Dinner was silent and solitary, again. Not that you really minded. You were able to respond to some texts from friends and previous packs, enjoying checking in with people. 

The walk back to your room was quiet but not solitary. Ghost appeared out of nowhere and fell into step next to you. You waited to see if he’d talk first, if he’d ask you for something, but he didn’t. Just walked with you. 

So you paused at the door to your room, looking at him. “Something I can help you with?” 

“Why do you do this?” Ghost crossed his arms over his chest, looming over you. 

“Help people? Or help shifters?” You raised one eyebrow at him. 

“Both.”

You huffed. “I like this job,” you told him, mirroring his posture, even though you could hardly loom over him. “It’s satisfying. It’s something I’m pretty good at. I like making connections and getting to know people. And it’s easier for me to go between packs than it would be for a shifter.” 

For several moments, the two of you stood silently, you carefully not meeting his gaze but otherwise holding your ground. 

Then he scoffed. “Good way to get hurt.”

Anger flashed, hot and bright, and you breathed through it. “I am well aware of that.” 

He grunted once, having clearly scented your anger. But he didn’t push further, turning and striding away. 

You breathed out, watching him until he rounded a corner. Then you shook yourself out and locked yourself in your room.

You still had work to do.

It took three more days to get to the last group of soldiers. This was the group you were worried about - Keyes and his second-in-command, Martinez, were in this group. They’d be the hardest to work with. 

Sure enough, you’d gotten no further than the first rule when there was a loud scoff. Keyes stepped forward, right to the unofficial barrier between you and your temporary students. 

“A man should be able to meet eyes when giving orders,” Keyes said, cocky and brash.

“I suppose that depends on how you define respect.” You remained calm, watching him with a polite little smile. 

“It’s basic courtesy,” Keyes spat.

“Basic courtesy changes from place to place.” You kept your gaze focused on his nose. It was a little too big for his face, honestly. “There is no singular universal set of rules.” 

“Sounds like a load of shite to me.” He stepped into your space, staring down at you in challenge. 

“Be that as it may, your superiors have ordered you to attend however many classes I deem necessary.” Your smile turned distinctly sweet. “How many times would you like to retake this class?” 

“You’re bluffing.” Keyes was eyeing you now, a little wary. 

You pulled out your phone and pulled up the screenshot you’d taken of the email with the orders detailing that you had to pass every soldier on base (including the pack) to be cleared to continue working there. “I’m afraid the higher ups take on-base safety very seriously.”

Keyes turned an interesting shade of mauve. “You really think that’ll work?” he asked, shoulders tight, hands clenched at his sides.

“I think if the shifters bother you that much, you need to transfer out. They’re not going anywhere.” You refused to back down, putting your phone away again. 

“That’s not fair,” Martinez protested, quickly joining Keyes. “We all worked hard to be here!” 

You shrugged. “Then I suggest you work hard to move past whatever prejudice you have.” 

Keyes gave you no warning. Just stepped into your space, hand grabbing your upper arm tight. Tight enough to hurt. “You’re butting in where you’re not wanted,” he murmured, low and vicious. “I suggest you pass us, or face the consequences.” 

“Let go of me.” You spoke slowly and clearly, heart pounding, not willing to show that he was actually hurting you. 

“Sign off and I will.” Keyes tried to loom over you. Physically, he could, but he had nowhere near the presence that the shifters did. 

You were just drawing in a breath to berate him and figure out what the hell to do, tension crackling through the room, the other soldiers shifting uneasily, when Price strode in. His upper lip lifted in a silent snarl, and he’d crossed the room and had his hand wrapped tight around Keyes’s wrist before you could say anything.

“Assaulting a civilian this time?” Price growled, low, banked violence in his tone. 

Keyes turned his head and met Price’s gaze head on. The tension thickened between the two as Price’s eyes slowly darkened from blue to brown. 

Keyes was trying to provoke a shift, you realized with horror. He was going to try to get Price declared unfit for duty.

So you did the first thing that came to mind. You slapped your free hand over Keyes’s eyes and pushed hard, forcing his head back to expose his throat. 

You’d forgotten about Martinez. The slightly smaller man tackled you, sending you sprawling to the ground, with the likely unintended side effect of sending Keyes with you. You landed hard and then coughed as Keyes elbowed your solar plexus on his way down. Your lungs froze, refusing to draw in air for a few long seconds until you coughed and wheezed in a breath. Somehow, in those few seconds you’d been incapacitated, Gaz and Soap had both shown up and were restraining Keyes and Martinez. 

“You broken?” Price asked, crouching by your head.

“They wish,” you wheezed, pushing yourself up to sit slowly. “Ow.” 

Price silently helped you to your feet, doing a quick visual inspection of you. You let him, indulging his instincts. 

“Think you’ll need a statement from me?” you asked, not even bothering to look at Keyes and Martinez.

“If you feel up to it.” 

“Let’s get it over with,” you agreed on a sigh. “The rest of you, I’ll let you know when your make-up class is.” 

Price escorted you out, walking you down to an office to get everything down on paper. You refused a medic, knowing you’d bruise but there wasn’t much to be done for that. 

And once that was done you leaned back in your seat, resting your eyes for a moment. “Have to admit, I didn’t expect them to get violent,” you muttered, lifting one hand to rub your temples. 

“Neither did I.” There was something like regret in the curl of his lips when you opened your eyes to look at him.

“No blaming yourself.” You pointed sternly at him. “This is part of my job. This happens sometimes. Some people are prejudiced, and that is not on you. Got it?” 

His lips twitched with humor this time. “Yes ma’am.” 

You scoffed but stood with a little wince. Your head was really aching now. 

“One more thing, before you go.”

“Yes?” You stood a little straighter. 

“Timeline got pushed up on a mission. We’ll be going to another base for a week, approximately.” His expression was blank as he looked at you.

“And I’ve been ordered to go with.” You breathed out slowly. It made sense. You could run interference when necessary, maybe have a chance to educate a few more people, help smooth some things over. “Okay. When are we leaving?”

“Wheels up at 0800 tomorrow morning.” 

That did make you groan softly. That wasn’t a lot of prep time. “Right. Um, where do I meet you?” 

Price huffed softly, though you couldn’t tell if he was amused or disapproving. Or both. “I’ll have Gaz escort you if you can be ready by 0730.”

“Can do.” You nodded to him (carefully) and left his office. You had a few things to do now, after all. 

Packing, fortunately, didn’t take all that long. You snuck a few snacks in your duffel, in case you (or one of the pack) needed them. 

And then you went to the rec room and folded the blanket, stuffing it in its own bag. Also just in case. 

By the time you made it back to your room, your energy was waning. You dropped both bags next to your door, set an alarm on your phone, and collapsed into bed.

[sehtoast]

Gentle Giant (Homelander x Reader)

1k | g/t, fluff, hurt/comfort, gender neutral reader | Fic Directory

For @homelanderbutbig bc they spoil us with their 8ft tall cinnamon roll. highly recommend them if you enjoy big homelander!

As a man already larger than life, one would think Homelander would adjust well to suddenly being that way in the literal sense. One blast of energy from a rogue supe suddenly had him standing eight feet tall and finding that the world, which was already unequipped to handle him before, was far too small to accommodate him now. At least his suit had also grown in the blast. 

He had hoped it would be temporary. Maybe he would shrink up, finally fit between doorways again. Be able to lay on the couch or in bed without half his body dangling over, but such was not the case. After a full month went by, he gave up hope. 

He was just going to have to be big now. 

That didn't stop him from still getting down on himself. If people looked at him as a horror before, they did so even more now that he was gargantuan. The once metaphorical ants to him were now literal. 

But it got to him. 

Day in and out, seeing those fearful expressions… all the judgment. It ate at him. Standing before his now ten foot tall mirror, he would unleash a tirade of self deprecating thoughts and insults. His hands were too big to hold, lips too big to kiss, body too big for even a fucking hug. 

His dreams of a house with a white picket fence and a happy, normal life were dashed entirely. He would never be normal. Not only was he always going to be Vought's plaything, but he was cursed to forever be a fucking circus act giant. 

What more could life take from him? Must he always be robbed of peace? 

The answer was yes. That is, until you came along. 

A new hire.  His new assistant. 

Your job was to do what he no longer could. Anything too small for his massive hands was your responsibility on top of a normal assistant's duties. Schedule his meetings, coordinate his day, get him whatever he wants. You made the world as normal as possible for him.

It didn’t take long at all for him to get attached.

Your comparatively short stature became endearing to him beyond words.  The way you’d trail after him, help him, stick up for him… He adored you.  You were the first of his assistants to not bail in the first month, and the fact you stuck around for even longer left him nothing short of amazed.

He really wishes you wouldn’t have just barged in.  But why wouldn’t you?  You knew you were safe with him.  You knew you were allowed unlimited access to his space.  Other than just flat out kissing you, he’s practically already professed his love with how much leniency he’s given you with what’s his.

“Are you okay?”

His head practically whips over to the side.  He never heard you enter, never saw you in the reflection.  How much had you heard?  God, what you must think…

“Homelander..?”

He stands there stunned and still.  He was supposed to be your gentle giant. He wanted you to think he was nice, he was sweet, he was good, he was–

“Hey,” you coo, approaching him.  You take one of his big, gloved hands in yours and look up at him so sweetly.  “C’mon, big guy.”  You say, gently tugging him toward the oversized couch. 

He follows without an ounce of resistance, a little enchanted at how big guy sounds so much better when you say it.  It doesn’t stink of the same disapproval when the others call him that.  

When he sits beside you, he’s unsure of what to do next.  When he was smaller– normal– he would lay his head in Madelyn’s lap.  He wishes he could do that with you.  How your hands might feel running through his undercut, the sight of your smile, the twinkle in your eyes… He wishes he could find it in himself to just take what he wants.  But not with you.

He wants you to want it just as much as he does.

You’re so sweet as you coax his worries from him.  His confession starts as a mumble, eyes cast to the floor lest he see a hint of amusement at his suffering.  He knows you never would, but there’s still a part of him that fears that same old thing that always happens.  He’s baited with affection, hooked, then cast out when he’s either too much or they get bored.

“You’re not too big,” you tell him.  “But I understand.”  

Your hand pats his and he grasps it without a second thought.  It looks so small compared to his and he finds that he likes that.  In one hand, he has the power to shield you from the world.  He could wrap you in an embrace and protect you from anything.

Whatever words he thinks he could say are stuck in his throat, lips parted to release what won’t come out.  Instead, he reaches over and lifts you effortlessly, resting you in his lap.  He hugs you as gently as physically possible.  He’s terrified of hurting you, especially now that he’s so big.  One hand at your waist, the other splaying against the back of your head.

Your arms wrap gingerly around him– well, as much as they can given his stature.  But you do something else that strikes his heart and brings tears to his eyes.  You mimic his hold.

Your hand wanders into the taper of his undercut and you let your fingers dance in the softness.  

“See?”  You ask.  “Not too big.  I can hug you just fine.” You squeeze a little tighter for emphasis.  “Not scary, either.”

He huffs a soft chuckle against your shoulder at that.  At least someone didn’t think so.  Probably the most important person.

He held you like that for some time.  He didn’t want to let go and you never moved away.  Your fingers continued dancing at the nape of his neck, moving up to thread through his undercut with a tenderness he swears he’s never felt before.  You make him feel normal.  You make him feel good.  Peaceful, even.

Your smiles and contented breaths tell him that he does the same for you.  When you eventually doze off, his heart clenches with something so warm and pure that he swears he could cry.  He’d never admit that a few tears did find their way out.  Well, maybe he’d admit it to you.

After all, you make his heart sing.

[sporadicthingcollection]

Smash or Pass: Part 4/4 (LA!Buggy the Clown x Reader)

Summary: It's the last stop before the Grand Line and you slink away for a quiet evening. The universe, however, decides to clown on you. Sequel to Kiss, Marry, Kill. Pairing: LA!Buggy the Clown x F!Reader Rating: Semi-explicit. Warnings: Attempted murder. Word Count: ~3.6k.

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PART 4: In which you prepare for a walk of shame, avoid eating your hair, and do some storm prepping.

Oh, what a wonderful dream. There you were, the High Surgeon Princess, besieged by uncultured swine. You thought for sure your time was up, but then the Harlequin Outlaw swooped in like the incorrigible, irascible rapscallion you've always wanted in your life and saved you from certain doom and dishonor. You graciously treated his wounds and one thing led to another and you fucked like rabbits in springtime. You got married and had two-point-five children and lived happily ever after in a castle with a white picket fence.

Unfortunately, your marital bliss is interrupted by the sun on your face and a battleaxe pingponging around in your skull.

You grumble. You hate Drunk You. She��s a bitch who doesn’t know her limits. Next time you see her, you’re gonna kill her.

Your cheek is stuck to something smooth, your arm is under something heavy, and something wispy tickles your lashes. You open your eyes to find that they’re all the same thing -- a broad expanse of tanned skin stretched taut over hard muscle, draped with a head of long, blue hair.

Alright, maybe Drunk You isn’t so bad. She knows your tastes and left you a thoughtful gift. Maybe you’ll get a bonus round.

You drape your other arm over him and explore. Nice pecs, fuzzy chest, cock semi-erect… ooh, soft belly. Very nice.

You walk your fingers up to his face. Stubble, pierced ear…  what the hell is that on his face? 

You sit up as much as you can with your arm stuck under your gentleman friend.

Your memories come rushing back like water through a sluice. Your blood turns to ice. You’re never drinking again.

You’re stuck. In bed. Naked. With Buggy. Buggy. Fucking Buggy. Not Kuro, who at least had some class while he tried to eviscerate you. Not Mihawk, who has no beef with you personally and doesn’t wear a shirt. Not even that handsome Marine with the sword and suit.

You could have lived with any of those, but no, you wake up next to the most pathetic man in the four Blues. A literal clown. A vainglorious loser. A man who wants to rip your captain, your best friend, limb from limb and feed him to sharks.

Do you think you could chew your arm off before he wakes up? 

You look for any sign of him stirring. Eyes closed, hair falling in his face, lips parted slightly as he breathes. One strong arm tucked underneath his head and the other in a loose fist by his mouth.

He looks so cute and peaceful. Ugh.

He shifts enough for you to free your arm and, just as you thank the gods, he lets out a snore that could have come from an ox. You can’t help but laugh.

Maybe this wasn’t a mistake. Maybe this was two people fooling around. Maybe nothing will come of this and you'll both go on your merry way with a fond memory of a night of drinking, dancing, and screwing. La-di-da-di-day. Everyone wins.

You stand up on shaky legs and examine yourself. A lot of little bruises on your thighs where he gripped you, but no hickeys. Thank God.

There’ll be no hiding the walk of shame, but you can at least maintain some dignity. You fix your hair, rinse your mouth out with the water in the dry sink basin, and sponge bath yourself with…

Hmm. No washcloth and you're out of rags. There’s gotta be something around here you can use.

Like the candy cane bandanna on the floor. You snatch it up and, wetting it, give yourself a quick wipe down. Pits, tits, pussy, as the saying goes. You'd never forgive yourself if you got something nasty from this.

“Oh,” says a soft voice. 

You turn. Buggy, propped up on his elbow, blinks sleepily at you. The sun lights up his hair like a shallow sea on a calm morning, shifting and shimmering as he brushes a few strands out of his face.

Your stomach jumps up your throat in a most pleasant way. Clearly, it’s conspiring with your heart against your brain.

He rubs those wide, gorgeous eyes. “Thought you’d’ve made your exit.”

You were about to. You shrug. "Just enjoying the view. Counting the masts.”

Hook baited. The joke is right there. Right there. He’ll say ‘I’ve got a mast for you right here, hur hur’ and you’ll have an excuse to get the hell outta here.

But he smiles. Not the showman’s smile he gets before he says something he thinks is clever. It’s soft. Warm. The kind of smile one bestows in private to those deemed worthy.

"Glad you didn't," he says.

Your brain puts up a valiant defense, but the heart-stomach alliance is winning. You swallow.

His smile wavers slightly. “Is that my bandanna?”

Shame burns your ears. "Sorry. I'll wash it--"

He flaps his hand dismissively. "Keep it. I've got plenty."

He pulls the sheets back and by God, nothing has ever looked as tempting as him. Him, a pirate with a weird nose who tried to kill you, sprawled out on scratchy, threadbare sheets, his fat cock laying there so deliciously—

You swallow again. Your pussy has joined the siege on your brain and they’ve voted to rename it the Organ Entente.

He stretches as he stands, his muscles rippling as he pops and rolls his joints. Sunlight pours over his body, draping him in liquid gold. He pulls his hair from its ponytail and gives it a good shake before putting it back up.

Lest your eyes join the fight as well, you turn away. Count the masts in the harbor. See if you can spy any Marines. Find the Merry.

Two strong arms drape around your shoulders, pulling you against a broad, warm chest. He rests his chin on your head. “Think I can see my ship from here,” he murmurs.

And in jumps your skin from the top rope. The nerves have betrayed the brain, charging over the ridge to aid the Entente in its assault. “Yeah?”

“Right over there. The Big Top.” He points to a perfectly normal-looking ship, nothing like the beast that waylaid you a few weeks ago. “Well, she’s the Loosey Baru now. Heard the Marine captain's a real bulldog, so we did her makeup and gave her a costume change.”

“Amazing what you can get away with when your sail’s not a big Jolly Roger.” You were the only one against putting a giant WE ARE PIRATES sign on your mainsail, but you got outvoted.

His chest thrums as he giggles. “Subtlety is for cowards.”

You scoff. “Subtlety is for people who like not being in prison.”

"And being flashy is for people like me.” His head moves to your shoulder. His stubble scratches against your cheek. “Who like meeting girls like you.”

The Entente breaks through the wall and feelings flood your brain. Warm feelings. Fuzzy feelings. Feelings that make you absently kiss the side of his nose before you’re even conscious you’re moving.

Buggy goes stiff and not in the fun way that pokes your kidneys. He jerks away from you, gaze hard as he searches your face. Whatever he’s looking for, he must not find it, because a moment later he kisses your lips.

Overwhelmed, your brain surrenders. The Entente celebrates by jumping around all through your body, bouncing from your head to your toes. They also must have fired off a twenty-one-gun salute, too. Why else would your ears be ringing like bells? Big bells? Big, glorious, golden wedding bells?

But it's over as soon as it started. He pulls away and straightens up. “C'mon, let's get outta here before the matron gives us the hook."

Dressing goes smoothly enough for the both of you. Socks and gloves are retrieved. Drawers are located. Your bra and his scarf are found. You stuff his bandanna into your pocket and he settles on a ponytail.

You’re pulling on your trousers when you see him looking in a small compact mirror, carefully drawing green swoops on his face with what looks like an oil pastel.

“Makeup at a time like this?” you ask.

“Flashiness is next to godliness.” He draws a cross on his forehead, then regards himself. “Ech, I need a shave...”

You pause as you fasten your belt. “Gimme a few grand and I’ll shave you so smooth you’ll look like a ten-year-old. Promise not to cut your tongue off this time.”

“Done.” He swaps the green pastel for a tube of lipstick and moves on to his mouth, smearing his lips red. “Gonna have to straighten out my cabin first. Place’s been a mess since... well, always."

You pause mid-bra hooking. "Huh?"

“Haven’t shared with anyone ‘til now.” He rubs his lips together. “Not like it’s dirty — just clothes and shit everywhere. Hope you don't need much closet space.”

What the hell is he on about? You pull your shirt over your head. “Sharing quarters?”

“What, you think I’d stick you in with the freaks? My bed’s big enough for two.” With the back of his wrist, he smears the color onto his cheeks and into the gruesome smile he’s known for. “Not to mention that it's a bed and not a hammock. You ever try to fuck in a hammock? Ain't easy, lemme tell ya."

You lace up your shoes. "I have no idea what you’re on about."

"I’ll show you when we get back to the ship."

"What ship?”

Any mirth in Buggy's face vanishes. He looks at you, brows knit. "My ship," he says slowly. “We’ll get you settled, then I’ll go take care of my business, and we'll haul anchor when I get back."

The audacity of this man. "You really think Luffy'll let you kidnap me? He'll be on you like suckers on a squid."

He’s giving you a look you know well: the do-you-need-a-psych-eval-cuz-you’re-talking-crazy look. “Since when is going with someone willingly kidnapping?” 

You return the look. "What the hell makes you think I'm going with you at all?"

He pockets the lipstick and clicks the compact shut. He steps towards you. “You said if I screwed you to the wall, you’d come with me. I did just that. And then I asked if you meant it, and you said you did.”

"That's not--" You falter. Okay, you can see how bringing up what he said and telling him to do it could be misinterpreted.

Well, shit. Miscommunication strikes again. "Sorry you got your hopes up."

Buggy falters. Something stirs the rivers of his eyes, the same vulnerable, hurt something you saw lurking when you'd insulted his nose. His gaze drifts downwards and his jaw clenches.

Remorse douses you in a bucket of ice water. You're officially a giant asshole. And a slut. And a dumb bitch lush who hurt someone you actually started caring about.

For a moment, you consider recanting. Go with him. Run off and join the circus like you always threatened you would. Sail the seas with a colorful cast. Get rocked every night.

You stop yourself. Enough. You hate a captive audience, you're not a pillager, and while you are a slut, you're not desperate. You have people you know you can trust. Stick with them. Don't jump in with the wildcard.

Buggy huffs, snapping you out of your musings. The hurt in his eyes has faded and the rivers are still. The eerie calm before the storm surge.

"You led me on," he growls.

"I did no such--"

A knife flies past your head, taking off a few strands of hair and shattering the window.

Buggy's shoulders rise and fall rapidly. He readies another knife. "I'm gonna rip your lying tongue out."

You suppose that's karma. You edge towards the window and he matches your step. Another knife narrowly misses the back of your head.

“And then I'm gonna drag you across the keel by your fingernails."

Ouch. A third knife sails past your nose. You're almost there...

"And then I'll nail your corpse to the figurehead!" 

He lunges at you and you at him. You dive low, hitting the floor as he hits the dry sink and leaves the way to the door wide open.

Unfortunately for you, it's locked. You turn the bolt only to be pulled away and spun around by the strap of your satchel.

Buggy pins you against the door, yet another knife at your throat, his arm against your chest, and his knee between your legs. It would be hot if it wasn't for the deranged churn and roil in his eyes.

"I'm gonna ask one more time," he says. “You coming with?”

“No,” you spit. You try to kick him off, but he holds you fast.

He cracks a bit in both composure and voice. “What’s that little rubber prick got that I don’t, huh?! What's it gonna take?!”

“He’s never tried to kill me.” Not on purpose, anyways. “And he doesn't hurt innocent people.”

Frustration ripples through his eyes, and his gaze drifts downwards. “Well, I’m hurt.”

"You're not exactly innocent!" He doesn't notice your hand sneaking towards the knob. "He'll have to be dead, dying, or catatonic before I leave him."

He looks back up. Defeat hardens into determination. "Consider it done."

You really shouldn’t say what you’re about to say, but the words are out before you can stop them. “Good fuckin' luck, big nose.”

The river rages. The floodgates crack and the levees break. He drops the knife and reels back a punch.

You twist the knob. The door opens outwards and he sails past you, landing a heap on the floor. 

"Sorry," you say. You really do mean it. He tries to grab your ankles, but you dodge his hands.

The bar looks like a stampede went through it. The matron looks up from her cleaning as you leap down the stairs. "How's your boyfriend?"

"Trying to kill me." You sprint for the front door, only to pause. "This happens a lot. Situation normal." One more pause. "And he's not my boyfriend."

An impotent roar hits your ears. "I'm gonna make you eat your hair!"

And there's your cue. Exit, pursued by a clown.

---

In hindsight, it makes sense that Sanji would be in the galley making breakfast. You still scream like you saw a corpse when he greets you, but he doesn’t take it personally. Just offers you a warm drink and a place to sit.

You sit at the counter while he pours you a steaming mug of black coffee. You drink deeply. “How do you always manage to make a perfect cup?”

“If I told you that, I’d be out of a job.” He returns his attention to the stove. “So what’s his name?”

You almost spit your coffee all over him. “Say again?”

“You're gone all night and come home in the morning looking like you ran the whole way.” He gives you a sympathetic smile. “Will you at least tell me if you were chased? Just in case we need to bust some heads.”

“I think I lost him by the shipyard.” You stare into the swirling steam. “If you fell in love with someone, would you leave the crew to be with them?”

Sanji’s gaze drifts upwards. "Didn't I already?" 

But he's... Oh. Ooooh. "Alright, that was smooth. But you know what I mean."

He pulls a frying pan from the cabinet, gazing into its sheen like a scrying mirror. "I'm not sure. Depends." He looks up. “Is this the same person who sent you running?”

“No,” you say on impulse. Sanji continues to stare at you. You slump. “Yes.”

He chuckles and shakes his head. “Love always hits like a hurricane,” he says. You quirk your eyebrow at him. “Old East Blue saying. It's sudden, fast, and sweeps you off your feet.”

Not the only thing that does that. "Speaking from experience?”

“First time I saw you, love,” he says with a wink and a smile.

You blush in spite of yourself and laugh. “Call me in ten years. I’m a bit old for you.”

His smile grows. “Could have fooled me.” He clicks the burner on and turns to dig around in the refrigerator. “So, tell me about your temptation.”

“What's there to say? Boy meets girl, boy drinks with girl, boy dances with girl, boy kisses girl…” Boy blows girl's back out, boy gets his heart broken, and boy threatens to make girl eat her hair. “...and here I am.”

“Sounds like a swell guy.” He sets a stick of butter, a rasher of bacon, and a dozen eggs on the table. "At least you had fun."

You snort. “So what do I do about B—” You catch yourself. “About this hurricane of mine?”

Sanji looks at you. Not that accusing right-into-your-soul look that Nami does, but like a man contemplating fish in a pond. “Well, you could build a sea wall, evacuate to higher ground, dance around naked in the rain…”

You chuckle. You wouldn’t mind seeing that. “What would you do?”

He smiles. “Batten down the hatches and enjoy the rising tide.”

You nod. Certainly something to chew on.

Standing, you take your mug. “I’m going to sit on deck. Photosynthesize a bit,” you say. You smile. “Thanks for listening, Sanji. I mean it.”

"Any time, love. I'd never judge." He cracks eggs one by one into the frying pan. “Every big storm has a name. What’s this one?"

You pull the bandanna from your pocket. You should hang it out to dry. “Hurricane Buggy.”

As you head out on deck, you hear the mighty splat of eggs hitting the floor.

---

The Buggy Pirates are no stranger to their captain's mercurial temper. Laughing one moment, shouting the next, then throwing a violent fit about who knows what, then back to cackling.

But this is extreme even for him.

They linger outside his cabin, listening to the crashing and slamming. No shouting, though. Just the occasional huffing and puffing, followed by the crack of splintering wood and the whunk of knives hitting the wall.

"How long's he been at this?" the strongwoman asks the fire eater.

"Longer than usual," he mutters. "No one knows why."

The old fortune teller -- also the cook -- crosses her arms. "He was gone all night and he comes back with a love bite. Could only have been a woman."

The shatter of glass makes everyone flinch. Still, not a sound from the captain.

"Could've been a fella," the strongwoman says.

The cook shakes her head. "I've been around a long time, girl. Only a woman could drive a man to this sort of madness. The fury of a woman scorned is nothing compared to the rage of a rejected man."

The contortionist rolls his eyes. "So he fucked around and found out. So what? Mohji said he had eyeballs on the rubber kid's crew. We need to move."

The strongwoman casts him an appraising look. "If you wanna go in and get him, be my guest."

He blinks, then frowns. He crosses his arms. "We could all go in there."

"I'm not gonna fight a guy with a shitload of knives."

"We can take him. Not like he can't stab all of us."

"He literally can."

"Wait. Shh, shh, shh." The fire eater puts a finger to his lips and holds up his hand. "You hear that?"

They all listen. They hear nothing. Silence.

He presses his ear to the door. "He's singing," he says with a frown.

They all glance at each other. That's never a good sign. "Singing what?"

"You know the one about the guy who gets drunk and kills his woman and gets hanged for it?" They nod. "That one."

The cook gives the strongwoman her famous told-ya-so look. The strongwoman rolls her eyes.

The door opens. The fire eater leaps away and everybody tries to look like they weren't eavesdropping as Captain Buggy comes strolling out, fiddling with his scarf and humming. He looks perfectly normal -- well, as normal as a man like him can look.

He speaks like he hasn't spent the last hour tearing his cabin apart. "Mornin', folks!"

The marksman looks at the strongwoman. Say something, it says. She shakes her head and looks at the cook. She looks at the contortionist, who looks right at the captain.

"Rough night, cap'n?" he asks.

Captain Buggy freezes. Everyone flinches.

Slowly, he turns to the contortionist. His expression doesn't change as a disembodied hand snatches the man by the neck and throws him into the water. Everyone jumps away, but nobody dares move any more.

Captain Buggy recalls his hand. "Mohji's found Rubber Boy, huh?" he says. "Great! Right on schedule. One little last minute change, though. The brunette with the long hair? I want her alive."

They look at each other again. "I thought we were gonna kill them all," the strongwoman says.

"Oh, we will. First, I kill Rubber Boy. His ass is still mine. Then you all clean up his little friends. And then..." His voice drops. "I teach the little diva a lesson, and then I'm gonna kill her." The darkness vanishes, and he returns to being jovial. "But first, breakfast!"

He strolls off, humming to himself. As soon as he's out of earshot, the cook speaks.

"Oh, he has got it bad," she says.

---

Take a look at a boy like me

Never stood on my own two feet

Now I'm blue as I can be

Oh, love come get me down!

---

A/N: And here end the melodramatics! a big thanks to everyone who read and commented and reblogged and liked and sent asks (askers ilu especially, i see a 1 by the envelope and my day is immediately made) 💙 i've got some ✨idears✨ in the pipeline for what's next, but in the meantime... stay flashy~

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