#Glen Powell fanfiction

[rootedinrevisions]

Better Late Than Never: Alternate Ending

SUMMARY: After one too many broken promises, Glen realizes he might lose the person who means the most to him. But proving he's ready to be the man you deserve proves to be harder than he expected.

A/N: Thank you to everyone for the comments and feedback on this story. Here is an alternate ending where you (and your friends) make Glen work a little harder to win you back over.

As always I'd love to hear what you guys think of this version! Did you like it better than the original? I'd love to see your opinion in the comments!

WORD COUNT: 7.8K

TAGS: In Comments.

**THE BEGINNING OF THIS STORY IS THE SAME. THIS ALTERNATE ENDING PICKS UP AT THE BAR WHEN GLEN SHOWS UP** - READ THE ORIGINAL VERSION -- HERE

The music thrummed through the bar, matching the energy of the group gathered around the high-top table. Glasses clinked together in a loud, boisterous toast, followed by laughter that was as unrestrained as it was contagious. You couldn’t help but smile, letting the warmth of the moment replace the earlier disappointment that had been gnawing at the edges of your birthday.

"To another year of dodging bad dates and drinking great cocktails!" Maggie shouted, raising her glass dramatically. The group erupted in cheers as you shook your head, laughing. She nudged you with her shoulder. "And to you, finally realizing what a catch you are."

You rolled your eyes, but the grin stayed plastered on your face. "Thanks, Maggie."

The group dissolved into casual chatter, and for the first time that night, you felt like you could breathe again. The sting of Glen cancelling dinner—the dinner you’d looked forward to all week—was starting to fade, dulled by the buzz of margaritas and the steady rhythm of laughter surrounding you.

“Okay, it’s your birthday, so spill,” one of your friends teased, leaning closer. “What’s the plan for your next year of life? New goals? Big dreams? New men?”

You were mid-sip, considering how to answer, when the door to the bar opened. A gust of air swept through the room, and instinctively, your eyes flickered toward the entrance.

And that’s when you saw him.

Glen.

Glen stepped into the bar, the low hum of conversation and the upbeat music doing little to calm the nerves rattling inside him. He scanned the room, searching for you, but all he could see was a blur of faces. His heart sank as he realized how crowded it was, and for a moment, he wondered if coming here was a mistake.

But then he spotted Maggie weaving through the throng of people, her sharp eyes zeroing in on him like she’d been expecting this. The relief he felt at seeing a familiar face quickly evaporated when he noticed the look on hers—unimpressed and unyielding.

“Glen,” she greeted, her voice flat as she stopped directly in front of him, effectively blocking his path.

“Maggie.” He tried to keep his tone even, but the urgency crept in anyway. “Where's she at? I need to talk to her. I need to explain.”

Maggie folded her arms, tilting her head in that way that made him feel like he was already losing. “Explain what? That you bailed on her—again? Or that you decided a party in New York was more important than dinner with her?”

He clenched his jaw, feeling the sting of her words. “I didn’t bail,” he said firmly. “I texted her. I told her I’d be late, but I’d be here. I just—things didn’t go as planned.”

“Didn’t go as planned,” Maggie echoed, her tone dripping with disbelief. “That’s your excuse? Glen, she waited for you. She planned her whole night around you. And then you just...what? Text her last minute and think that makes it okay?”

Glen rubbed a hand over his face, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. He hadn’t planned for this confrontation, not tonight. Not with Maggie. 

“Look,” he said, forcing himself to stay calm, “I know I messed up, okay? But I’m here now. I just want to talk to her.”

Maggie didn’t budge. “And what? Tell her you’re sorry? That it won’t happen again? Because let’s be real, Glen—it will.”

Her words hit harder than he expected. He opened his mouth to argue but stopped himself. Was she wrong? He hated the doubt that crept in.

“She deserves better,” Maggie continued, her voice softening but losing none of its edge. “And I’m not going to let you show up now, just because it’s convenient for you, and pretend like you didn’t hurt her.”

Glen’s chest tightened, the weight of her words settling heavy on him. “It’s not like that,” he said, his voice quieter now. “I didn’t want to miss dinner. I didn’t mean to let her down. I just...I screwed up. But I want to make it right.”

Maggie studied him for a long moment, her sharp gaze searching his face for any sign of sincerity. “You say that,” she said finally, “but actions speak louder than words. And so far? Your actions suck.”

He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. This wasn’t how tonight was supposed to go. He’d been so sure that if he could just talk to you, explain everything, you’d understand. But now, standing here under Maggie’s scrutinizing glare, he wasn’t so sure anymore.

“I just...I need to see her,” he tried again, his voice barely above a whisper. “Please, Maggie. Let me talk to her.”

She hesitated for a beat before shaking her head. “Not tonight, Glen. She deserves to enjoy her birthday without you making it about your mess. Go home.”

He opened his mouth to protest, but the finality in her tone stopped him. Defeated, he nodded, stepping back. 

“Fine,” he said, though the word felt hollow.

As he turned to leave, he glanced toward the table where you were sitting, laughing with your friends. The sound of your laughter, even from across the room, hit him like a gut punch. He had no right to interrupt that moment, no matter how much he wanted to.

Walking out of the bar, he shoved his hands into his pockets, his mind already racing with ways to fix this. Maggie might have won this round, but he wasn’t giving up. Not on you. Not this time.

When Maggie returned to the table, she had that look—stern but protective, the kind of look that meant she wasn’t going to let you off the hook without saying her piece.

“What happened?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper as you leaned closer, nervous to hear her answer.

Maggie slid into her seat and took a deliberate sip of her drink, her eyes darting toward the bar. “He wanted to talk to you,” she said calmly, setting her glass down.

Your stomach flipped, a mix of hope and dread rising in your chest. “And?”

“I told him he couldn’t.”

Your heart sank, confusion flashing across your face. “You what?”

“I told him you didn’t need this tonight,” she said, her tone firm but not unkind. “That he can’t just show up whenever it’s convenient for him and expect you to drop everything to listen to him.”

Your jaw tightened as you stared at her, struggling to piece together what she was saying. ��What did he say?”

“He said he wanted to explain, that he felt bad about missing dinner. But I told him enough is enough. This isn’t the first time he’s let you down, and I wasn’t going to let him ruin your night with some half-hearted apology.”

“Maggie...” you started, your voice trailing off.

“No,” she cut in, holding up a hand to stop you. “You’ve had a crush on him for how long now? Years, right? And you let him get away with stuff because it's him. If I did half the shit he does you wouldn't be my friend anymore. Don’t even try to deny it.”

Your cheeks flushed, and you looked away, fiddling with the condensation on your glass.

“I’m not saying it’s your fault, but let’s be real here—the crush is why you let him get away with it. If he were just some friend who bailed all the time, you wouldn’t make excuses for him like this. But because it’s Glen, because you like him, you let it slide. Every time.”

“That’s not fair,” you mumbled, though the weak protest did little to convince even yourself.

“It’s not about fair,” Maggie said, her tone softening just slightly. “It’s about what you deserve. And if he’s just your friend? Fine. Let him screw up every now and then, no big deal. But if you want him to be more than that? If he ever wants to be more than that? Then he has to act like it. And bailing on dinner to go to a party isn’t acting like it.”

You sighed, her words sinking in like weights tied to your chest. “He’s not a bad guy, Maggie,” you said quietly.

“I’m not saying he is,” she said gently. “But I am saying that you deserve better from a partner. You deserve someone who shows up, who puts you first. Not someone who expects you to rearrange your life around their schedule and call it love.”

Her words stung because you knew they were true. The hope you’d been clinging to—the idea that Glen might finally see you as more than just a friend—felt paper-thin now, flimsy and fragile under the weight of reality.

“I just...” you started, but your voice faltered. You didn’t even know what you wanted to say.

Maggie reached out, squeezing your hand. “I love you,” she said, her tone softening even more. “And I know how much you care about him. But you can’t keep letting him off the hook just because you want him to care about you the same way. He either steps up, or he doesn’t deserve to be the guy you’ve been waiting for.”

You swallowed hard, nodding as you blinked back the sting in your eyes. “You’re right,” you whispered, though the words felt like they might break you.

Maggie gave you a small, encouraging smile. “Come on,” she said, giving your hand another squeeze. “It’s your birthday. Don’t let him ruin it.”

You forced a smile, nodding as you straightened in your seat. The night wasn’t over yet, and you weren’t ready to let Glen—or your own feelings for him—ruin it. Not tonight.

* * * * *

By the time Maggie pulled up to your place, the weight of the night was beginning to settle in your chest. The buzz from the drinks had worn off, leaving you raw and tired. You unclipped your seatbelt as Maggie parked by the curb, and she turned to you with a small smile.

“Happy birthday,” she said softly.

She then reached into her purse. She handed you your phone, and for a moment, you just stared at it.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, your fingers curling around the familiar weight of the device.

“Get some rest, okay? You’ve had a long day,” Maggie added, her tone light, but there was an edge of concern underneath.

“I will,” you replied, forcing a small smile to reassure her.

She lingered for a second, her eyes searching yours before she nodded. “Goodnight.”

“Night.”

You stepped out of the car and watched her drive away before heading up to your apartment. The silence of your place greeted you like an old friend, but tonight, it felt heavier than usual. You kicked off your shoes and left them by the door, shrugging off your jacket as you wandered into the living room.

Sinking onto the couch, you finally unlocked your phone, the bright screen momentarily blinding you in the dim room. Notifications lit up one after another, but your eyes landed on Glen’s name almost immediately.

Your heart skipped a beat as you opened his messages, scrolling through them one by one.

7:12 PM: Hey, I’m really sorry about missing dinner last night. My interview ran long, and I missed my flight. I had to stay an extra day, but I swear I wasn’t blowing you off. Can't wait to see you tonight!

You frowned, your thumb hovering over the screen. He hadn’t mentioned the missed flight last night—hadn’t even tried to explain until now.

8:07 PM: I’m running late, but I’ll be there. Just got back into Austin and hit traffic.

Your stomach tightened. The memory of sitting at the restaurant, checking your phone every few minutes, flashed through your mind. You hadn’t seen this message. By 8 you’d already given up on him.

8:46 PM: Where are you? I went to the restaurant, but I guess I just missed you.

You bit your lip, the weight in your chest growing heavier.

10:15 PM: I’m sorry. I know I’ve let you down, and I hate that I keep doing this to you. Maggie said you didn't want to talk to me. Please don’t give up on me. I’ll fix this. I swear.

You stared at the screen, your throat tightening as the words blurred. His texts were full of apologies, of promises you weren’t sure he could keep. You wanted to be angry, to hold onto the frustration and disappointment, but a part of you—a soft, stubborn part—wanted to believe him.

You sighed, setting the phone down on the coffee table and leaning back against the couch. The room was quiet, save for the faint hum of the fridge in the kitchen. You closed your eyes, the words from his last message echoing in your mind.

Please don’t give up on me.

Your fingers itched to respond, to demand answers, but instead, you grabbed your phone again and typed out a simple reply: We’ll talk tomorrow.

You stared at the message for a moment before hitting send. It wasn’t much, but it was enough for now.

As you set your phone back down, a knock at the door startled you, echoing through the stillness of your apartment. Your heart leapt, and for a second, you considered ignoring it. But something—some quiet, nagging feeling—pulled you to your feet.

When you opened the door, Glen stood on the other side, his hands shoved into his jacket pockets and an almost sheepish look on his face.

“I know it’s late,” he started, his voice soft but urgent. “But I needed to see you.”

Your grip tightened on the edge of the door, your tired eyes narrowing. “Glen, it’s not a good time—”

He reached out, his hand gently pressing against the door to stop you from closing it. “Please,” he said, his eyes pleading. “Just give me five minutes. Let me explain.”

You hesitated, the frustration and hurt bubbling just beneath the surface. But something in his voice, in the way he looked at you, made you pause. With a resigned sigh, you stepped aside and let him in.

You crossed your arms over your chest, leaning against the wall near the door as Glen stepped inside. He seemed almost hesitant, like he knew he was walking a tightrope.

“Okay,” you said, your tone clipped. “You’ve got five minutes.”

He nodded, running a hand through his hair. “Look, I messed up. I know I did. But I swear, I wasn’t trying to let you down again. My interview ran over, and I missed my flight. By the time I got back to Austin, I figured you’d already left the restaurant.”

You raised an eyebrow, the heat rising in your chest. “And then what? You just decided to go to a party instead?”

He blinked, his brow furrowing in confusion. “What? No, that’s not—”

“Was your interview with Alanna Norris?” you interrupted, your voice sharp.

Glen froze, the color draining slightly from his face. “What are you talking about?”

You stepped forward, your phone suddenly feeling heavy in your pocket. “I saw the pictures, Glen. The videos. You at that party with her, laughing, smiling, looking like you didn’t have a care in the world. While I was sitting at home alone, trying to figure out you didn't show up for the birthday dinner you planned for me.”

His shoulders slumped, and he looked down for a moment before meeting your gaze. “It’s not what it looked like.”

“Then what was it?” you shot back, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and hurt. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you bailed on me for some party for one of your Hollywood friends.”

He stepped closer, his hands out as if he were trying to reach for you but hesitated. “I didn’t plan to go to that party, okay? I only went because I realized I wasn’t going to make it back to Austin in time for dinner. It was a networking thing—work, nothing more. I wasn’t there to have fun, I was there because I thought it might help my career.”

You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. “Work. It’s always about work with you, isn’t it?”

He sighed, his expression pained. “I know it sounds like an excuse, but it’s the truth. You know how important this weekend is to me. I didn’t want to miss your dinner, but when I realized I couldn’t make it, I thought at least I could make the most of the night professionally.”

You moved to the couch and sat down, arms still folded as you glared at him. “That’s convenient, isn’t it? You always have a reason, Glen. There’s always an explanation, but it doesn’t change the fact that you weren’t there. Again.”

Glen followed you, dropping to his knees in front of you. He looked up at you, his eyes full of sincerity, and for a moment, you hated how much it pulled at your heartstrings.

“When have I ever lied to you?” he asked, his voice quiet but firm. “Ever?”

Your lips parted, ready to counter him, but the words didn’t come. You wanted to call him out, to tell him he was wrong. But the truth was, he wasn’t. Glen had let you down, canceled plans, missed important moments—but he’d never lied.

You sighed, looking away. “It’s not about lying, Glen. It’s about priorities. It feels like I’m always coming in second to everything else in your life. Your job, your career, your networking events.”

He leaned back slightly, his hands resting on his thighs. “That’s not true,” he said softly.

“It feels true,” you replied, your voice cracking slightly. “I waited for you, Glen. I was sitting there, hoping you’d show up, and you didn’t. And yeah, maybe you didn’t lie, but it doesn’t change the fact that I was alone on my birthday because you couldn’t be bothered to put me first for once.”

His jaw tightened, and he nodded slowly. “You’re right,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I should’ve been there. No excuses. And I hate that I wasn’t. I hate that I keep screwing up with you.”

You glanced down at him, your chest tightening at the vulnerability in his expression. He looked genuinely hurt, but that didn’t erase the ache you felt.

“I don’t know if an apology is enough,” you admitted quietly.

“I don’t expect it to be,” he said, his eyes locked on yours. “But I promise you, I’ll do better. I’ll prove it to you, Y/N. Just… don’t give up on me.”

His words hung in the air, and for a moment, you didn’t know what to say. The sincerity in his voice was undeniable, but the weight of his past letdowns still lingered.

You sighed, leaning back against the couch. “I need time, Glen. I can’t just pretend everything’s okay overnight.”

He nodded, standing up slowly. “I’ll be here when you’re ready.”

He hesitated, as if he wanted to say more, but instead, he turned and walked toward the door. Before leaving, he glanced back at you one last time. “Happy birthday. I hope it was still a good one.”

And then he was gone, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the faint echo of his words.

* * * * *

The next morning, you were still in your pajamas—a faded T-shirt and a pair of shorts—when the knock on your door startled you. Coffee in hand, you hesitated for a moment before peeking through the peephole.

Glen.

With a sigh, you set your coffee down and unlocked the door. As you opened it, your eyes immediately widened at the sight in front of you. Glen stood there holding a bouquet so large it nearly obscured his face. Roses, lilies, sunflowers—practically every flower imaginable—were packed into the arrangement, making it look more like a garden than a bouquet.

You blinked, crossing your arms over your chest as you leaned against the doorframe. “What… are you doing?” you asked, your voice laced with skepticism.

Glen peeked out from behind the flowers, his expression impossibly earnest. “I’m fixing this.”

Your brow arched. “With… that?” You gestured toward the bouquet.

He stepped forward, undeterred by your guarded tone. “Partly, I remember you said a few months ago no one's ever bought you flowers for your birthday. So here are flowers for your birthday,” he said with a small smile, tilting the bouquet toward you. “But mostly, I’m here to show you I’m serious.”

You hesitated, glancing between him and the flowers. “Glen, I don’t need a grand gesture—”

“I know,” he interrupted gently. “I know this doesn’t fix everything. But it’s a start. And I needed you to see that I mean it when I say I’ll do better.”

You let out a small, incredulous laugh, shaking your head. “You realize this is borderline ridiculous, right?”

A grin tugged at the corner of his lips. “Absolutely. But I figured if I’m going to make a fool of myself, I might as well go all in.”

You couldn’t help the small smile that crept onto your face despite your best efforts to remain guarded. “You really don’t give up, do you?”

“Not when it comes to you,” he said, his tone soft but firm.

The sincerity in his voice caught you off guard, and for a moment, you didn’t know what to say. Glen took the opportunity to step inside, setting the bouquet down on your coffee table. The oversized arrangement looked absurdly out of place in your small living room, but somehow, it felt… fitting.

He turned back to you, his hands slipping into his pockets. “Look, I know I’ve let you down more times than I can count. And I know flowers and apologies don’t erase that. But I want to make this right,Y/N. I want to show you that I can prioritize you the way you deserve.”

You studied him for a long moment, trying to gauge the sincerity in his words. As much as you wanted to stay mad, it was hard to ignore the way he looked at you—like you were the only thing that mattered in the world.

“And how exactly do you plan to do that?” you asked, your tone cautious.

“For starters,” he said, pulling his phone out of his back pocket, “I cleared my entire schedule for the next couple days. No interviews, no networking events, no work commitments. It’s just you and me.”

Your eyes widened slightly. “You did that?”

“I cleared my schedule,” he repeated, holding the notebook up as if to prove it. “I told my manager I needed time off. And believe me, she wasn’t happy about it. But I didn’t care, because I meant what I said last night. You’re more important.”

The walls you’d carefully constructed around your heart started to crack, but you weren’t ready to let them crumble just yet. 

“That’s a nice sentiment,” you said quietly. “But what happens when the next big opportunity comes along? Or the next party? Am I just supposed to hope you won’t drop me for that, too?”

Glen took a step closer, his gaze steady. “No. You shouldn’t have to hope,Y/N. You should know. And I’m going to make sure you do.” He paused, his expression softening. “Look, I’m not perfect. I know I’ll probably screw up again at some point, but I want you to know that I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make this work. Because losing you isn’t an option for me.”

You swallowed hard, his words hitting you square in the chest. For all your frustration and hurt, it was impossible to ignore the depth of his sincerity.

“I don’t know, Glen,” you said after a moment, your voice quieter now. “I want to believe you, but it’s hard. It’s really hard.”

“I know,” he said, his voice just as soft. “And I’m not asking you to forgive me right away. I just… I want a chance to prove to you that I can do better.”

You looked away, your emotions a tangle of doubt, hope, and fear. After a long silence, you finally met his gaze again.

“Okay,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “But I’m not making any promises.”

Glen nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Just give me one more chance. That’s all I’m asking for.”

He hesitated for a moment before stepping closer, his hand brushing yours lightly. “Friends?” he asked, offering a tentative olive branch.

You exhaled, a faint smile breaking through despite yourself. “Friends,” you agreed, though the word felt heavier than it should have.

As Glen lingered near the door, his eyes swept over your living room, still filled with traces of your everyday life—blankets draped over the couch, books stacked haphazardly on the coffee table next to the over-the-top bouquet he’d brought. He glanced back at you, his hands in his pockets again, and tilted his head with a small smile.

“So,” he began, his tone casual, “how about I take you to that coffee shop you love downtown? My treat.”

Your brow arched slightly as you regarded him, arms still loosely crossed. “You’re really laying it on thick this morning, huh?”

Glen shrugged, his grin widening. “I figured I needed to pull out all the stops. Besides, I owe you about a hundred coffee dates at this point.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t quite stop the small smile that tugged at the corners of your lips. “Give me a minute to change,” you said, turning toward your bedroom.

Behind the safety of your bedroom door, you leaned against it for a moment, letting out a long breath. The morning’s events played through your mind—his earnest apology, the ridiculous bouquet, his clear effort to show he was serious. It was all… a lot.

And yet, despite your lingering reservations, there was a part of you that wanted to believe him.

Shaking off the swirling thoughts, you crossed the room to your closet and pulled out something simple but presentable—a pair of jeans and a cozy sweater. As you changed, you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. There was still a guardedness in your expression, but beneath it, a faint flicker of hope was beginning to take root.

When you returned to the living room, Glen straightened up from where he’d been leaning against the wall. His eyes lit up when he saw you, and the easy smile on his face sent a pang through your chest—equal parts frustrating and endearing.

“Ready?” he asked, holding the door open for you.

You grabbed your bag and slipped on your shoes, nodding as you stepped past him. “Let’s go.”

The coffee shop was as cozy as ever, its familiar hum of chatter and the scent of freshly brewed coffee wrapping around you like a warm blanket. Glen had already ordered your hazelnut latte and a slice of coffee cake before you’d even had a chance to argue, his easy smile daring you to say he didn’t know you well enough.

As you both sat down, the conversation was brief but meaningful. Glen apologized again, promising to do better, and though his words carried sincerity, you held onto your guardedness. He didn’t press when you didn’t immediately forgive him, seeming to understand that trust would take more than words.

After finishing your drinks, Glen glanced at you as you walked toward the door. “What do you think about heading over to the old trail? You know, the one we used to run together?”

You hesitated for only a moment before nodding. “Sure. Why not?”

You stepped onto the familiar dirt path, the trail winding through a grove of trees that were barren but still beautiful in their stark simplicity. You tucked your hands into your coat pockets, your shoes crunching against the gravel as Glen matched your pace beside you.

“It’s been a while since we came here,” he said, his tone light. “I forgot how quiet it gets out here.”

“It’s one of my favorite things about this trail,” you replied, keeping your eyes on the path ahead.

He glanced over at you, his expression softer than you expected. “I missed this.”

You let out a small laugh, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Missed what? Running?”

He shook his head. “No. Walking with you. Talking with you. Just… spending time with you.”

The words hung in the air, the weight of them making your steps falter for a moment. You didn’t respond right away, unsure of what to say. Instead, you kept walking, the silence between you not uncomfortable but charged with unspoken thoughts.

Glen didn’t push, letting the moment settle naturally as the trail stretched out before you.

The sound of your boots crunching against the gravel filled the silence as you walked side by side, the air between you and Glen thick with unspoken emotions. When you didn’t respond to his earlier comment, Glen glanced over at you, his brows furrowing slightly.

“Do you?” he asked after a moment.

You stopped walking and turned to him with a confused expression. “Do I what?”

“Miss spending time with me,” he clarified, his tone softer now.

You rolled your eyes and resumed walking. “Of course I miss you, Glen. You’re my best friend—when you actually show up.”

He winced but didn’t argue, nodding as if to acknowledge the truth in your words. For a few moments, the two of you walked in silence again, but Glen broke it this time with a different question.

“Are you still seeing… what’s his name?”

You shot him a look, narrowing your eyes. “Evan? No, we broke up.”

“Oh,” he said, his voice laced with curiosity. “Sorry to hear that.”

“It’s fine,” you replied with a shrug. “It wasn’t really going anywhere anyway.”

Glen hesitated before glancing at you again. “So… are you seeing anyone now?”

You huffed a laugh and playfully shoved his arm. “Why are you suddenly so interested in my love life?”

He grinned, rubbing his arm as though your shove had actually hurt. “I’m just trying to stay up to date on your life. You know, since it’s been a while.”

“Uh-huh,” you said, giving him a skeptical look but unable to suppress the small smile tugging at your lips.

“Seriously,” he insisted, his grin softening into something more sincere. “I feel like I’ve missed a lot.”

You glanced at him, your footsteps slowing slightly. “Yeah, well… you have.”

The honesty in your voice made him stop walking entirely. He turned to face you, his expression filled with regret. “I know. I don’t want to miss any more of your life.”

For a moment, you studied his face, the sincerity in his eyes making your chest tighten. You wanted to believe him, to trust that this time would be different. But after so many missed moments and broken plans, part of you still held back.

Glen glanced at you, his lips curving into a small, teasing smile. “So… are you seeing someone?”

You let out a sigh, staring down at the trail ahead of you. “No, there’s no one.”

He didn’t respond immediately, and you could feel his gaze lingering on you. You resisted the urge to look at him, instead focusing on the way the late morning sunlight filtered through the trees, casting dappled shadows on the ground.

After a moment, you cleared your throat. “What about you?” you asked, your voice more hesitant than you intended. “Are you… seeing anyone?”

Glen chuckled, the sound light and almost self-deprecating. “Me? Come on. My life’s so crazy right now I don’t even have time to breathe, let alone have a girlfriend.”

You tried to match his laugh, forcing a lighthearted response. “Well, I guess that makes sense. You can barely make it to dinner—you’d probably be a terrible boyfriend.”

He laughed a little louder this time, and though it was meant as a joke, your words carried a heavier weight that neither of you acknowledged.

But deep down, his answer didn’t bring the relief you thought it would. Instead, it left a hollow ache in your chest, one you tried to bury as you pushed a stray hair out of your face and glanced at him.

“I mean, I’m not saying I wouldn’t try if the right person came along,” Glen said after a pause, his voice quieter now, almost thoughtful.

You looked at him, startled by the sudden shift in his tone. But before you could say anything, he turned to you with his trademark grin, lightening the mood.

“Not that I’d have any luck. I’m pretty sure I’d forget our anniversary or something and get dumped immediately.”

You shook your head, laughing despite yourself. “You’re hopeless.”

The conversation drifted after that, the heavier moments giving way to an easier rhythm as you walked the familiar trail together. But even as you laughed at his jokes and teased him about tripping over a tree root, that small pang of sadness lingered, a quiet reminder of the distance still between you.

As you and Glen left the trail, he glanced over at you with a grin. “You up for one more stop?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Where are you taking me now?”

He just shrugged, keeping the grin firmly in place. “You’ll see.”

Before you could argue, Glen was already pulling out of the parking lot, his hand casually draped over the steering wheel as the radio played softly in the background. You tried to guess where he was taking you, but he didn’t budge, dodging your questions with playful non-answers until the car finally rolled into the parking lot of a small, familiar diner.

You blinked in surprise, a smile tugging at your lips despite yourself. “Rudy’s? Are you serious?”

“Hey, you used to love this place,” Glen said, parking the car and turning off the engine.

He wasn’t wrong. Rudy’s had been one of your favorite spots back in the day—a no-frills diner with red vinyl booths, a jukebox in the corner, and the best milkshakes in town. It was where you and Glen used to come after late-night study sessions or early morning runs, a place that held more memories than you cared to admit.

The familiar bell jingled as the two of you stepped inside, the smell of coffee and frying bacon hitting you instantly. You couldn’t help but smile as your eyes scanned the space, everything just as you remembered it.

“Well, if it isn’t my two favorite troublemakers!”

You turned to see Donna, the waitress who used to wait on you two all the time, heading toward you with a knowing smile. She looked exactly the same, her blonde hair teased into a high ponytail and her pink uniform just a little snugger than you remembered.

“Donna!” Glen greeted, his grin widening. “Still holding down the fort, huh?”

“Somebody’s gotta keep an eye on this place,” she said with a wink, before turning to you. “It’s been ages since I’ve seen you two together. Thought maybe he finally scared you off for good.”

You laughed, glancing at Glen. “Not yet, but he’s been trying.”

Donna chuckled and led you to a booth near the window, promising to bring over your “usuals,” even though it had been years since either of you had been there.

As you slid into the booth across from Glen, you couldn’t help but feel a flicker of nostalgia. The playful teasing, the easy way you fit into this place together—it was starting to feel a little too familiar, a little too good.

“So,” Glen said, leaning back in the booth with a smirk, “I’m gonna guess she’s still got my milkshake order memorized.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You mean the chocolate monstrosity? Pretty sure that’s hard to forget.”

He grinned. “Hey, don’t knock it until you try it.”

“I did try it. Once. And I’m still recovering.”

The banter continued as Donna brought over your orders—his chocolate brownie shake, your classic vanilla shake, and a basket of fries to share.

Somewhere between stealing fries from each other’s side of the basket and arguing over who had the better milkshake, the tension from earlier seemed to melt away. You found yourself laughing more, leaning into the playful energy Glen always seemed to bring with him.

“You know,” he said, dipping a fry into his shake with a mischievous grin, “I forgot how much fun this is. Just us, hanging out. Feels like old times, doesn’t it?”

You hesitated for a moment, the weight of his words settling over you. But as you looked at him—his messy hair, his boyish grin, the way he seemed completely at ease in this moment—you couldn’t deny it.

“Yeah,” you said softly, a small smile tugging at your lips. “It kind of does.”

After finishing up at the diner, Glen walked you back to the car, the remnants of your milkshakes still in hand. The air between you was lighter now, filled with easy smiles and the kind of camaraderie you hadn’t felt in a long time.

“You’re not taking me home, are you?” you asked as he pulled out of the parking lot, your tone both skeptical and amused.

“Not just yet,” Glen replied with a mysterious grin. “I’ve got one more stop in mind.”

You gave him a sidelong glance. “You’re full of surprises today.”

“Yeah, well, I figured you deserved a day of going down memory lane,” he said, his voice softening just slightly.

The drive didn’t take long, but the familiarity of the route had your curiosity growing. When Glen turned onto the winding road leading up to the old scenic overlook, your brows shot up.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you said, a laugh escaping despite yourself.

“What?” he asked, feigning innocence.

“This is where kids used to come to make out, Glen.”

He smirked, pulling the car into one of the gravel spots near the edge of the overlook and turning off the engine. “Well, yeah. But it also has a great view.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help smiling as you climbed out of the car. The overlook hadn’t changed much—still the same grassy clearing that opened up to a breathtaking view of the valley below. The sun was starting to dip lower in the sky, casting everything in warm hues of gold and orange.

Glen joined you at the edge, leaning on the old wooden railing as he looked out at the view. “You know, I remember finding you here more than once back in the day,” he said, his voice quieter now, tinged with something almost nostalgic.

You glanced at him, surprised. “What are you talking about?”

“Back in high school,” he said, turning to look at you. “Whenever you were upset or needed space, you’d come here. Usually by yourself. I’d end up driving by and seeing your car parked here, so I’d stop to check on you.”

You frowned slightly, the memories flickering to life. “I wasn’t upset. I just… needed to get away sometimes.”

“Run away, you mean,” Glen teased lightly, a grin tugging at his lips.

You rolled your eyes. “I wasn’t running away. I just liked the quiet.”

“Sure,” he said, his grin widening. “But you’d always talk to me when I showed up. Even when you said you wanted to be alone.”

You let out a small laugh, shaking your head. “I don’t remember you being this sentimental.”

“Yeah, well, don’t get used to it,” he said, bumping your shoulder lightly with his.

The two of you fell into a comfortable silence, the sound of the breeze rustling through the trees and the distant hum of cicadas filling the air.

“Why’d you bring me here, Glen?” you asked after a moment, your voice quieter now.

He glanced at you, his expression more serious. “Because I thought maybe you could use a little peace. And because I know this place means something to you.”

Your heart gave a small, involuntary flutter at his words, but you pushed the feeling down, turning your attention back to the view.

“This place is nice,” you said softly. “I forgot how much I liked it here.”

Glen nodded, his gaze fixed on the horizon. “I guess I just wanted to remind you of the good stuff. The stuff that hasn’t changed.”

You looked over at him, his profile outlined by the fading sunlight, and for a moment, you felt a pang of something bittersweet. It was hard to stay guarded when he looked at you like that—like he still cared, like he still wanted to be the person you could lean on.

The mood shifted slightly as you leaned against the wooden railing, the soft breeze brushing past you. Glen turned to glance at you, catching the way your gaze lingered on the horizon, a faint wistfulness in your expression.

“You know,” you said, breaking the silence, “I’ve never actually been out here with someone before.”

Glen frowned. “That’s not true. You’ve been out here with me.”

You rolled your eyes, shooting him a playful look. “Not like that, Glen. I mean… as a date. Back in the day, I was kind of the awkward kid. Nobody wanted to date me, let alone bring me out here.”

His frown deepened, and he turned to face you fully, crossing his arms over his chest. “I don’t believe that for a second.”

You let out a short laugh, shaking your head. “It’s true. Not everyone gets their rom-com moment, Glen. Not everyone gets swept off their feet or… gets to star in the big romantic scenes.”

At that, he laughed, the sound warm and familiar. “Rom-com moment? What’s that supposed to mean?”

You gave him a knowing look. “You know what I mean. The big moment in every chick flick where the guy finally realizes he’s in love with the girl, and he makes some grand gesture to win her back. Like, he shows up at her house, or her job, or stops her at the airport to profess his love. And then they kiss, and everything’s magically perfect.”

Glen leaned on the railing beside you, a smirk tugging at his lips. “And you’re saying you’ve never had one of those?”

“Nope,” you replied, popping the “p” for emphasis. “Not everyone gets that kind of moment, Glen. Some of us just get… life.”

He studied you for a moment, his expression softening. “You know, I don’t think that’s true,” he said, his voice quieter now.

“What, that sometimes life is just… life?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “That you’ve never had a rom-com moment. I think you have. You just haven’t recognized it yet.”

You blinked, caught off guard by his response. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He shrugged, his smirk returning. “Just that you’re kind of oblivious sometimes.”

You turned to look at Glen, his words catching you off guard. “What’s that supposed to mean, I’m oblivious?” you asked, giving him a confused look.

He met your gaze, and there was something in his eyes—something intense and vulnerable that made your breath catch.

You started to say something, but he held up a hand to stop you.

“Let me say this...please,” he said softly.

You closed your mouth, your heart pounding as he took a step closer.

“You mean more to me than anyone else ever has,” he began, his voice steady but low. “You always have. And I’m scared, okay? I’m scared that I’m not enough for you, that I’ll never be enough. But I’m tired, too. Tired of not telling you how I feel, tired of watching you date guys who don’t deserve you.”

You blinked, his words sinking in, and your heart felt like it might burst from the mix of emotions swirling in your chest.

“You’re the most important person in my life,” Glen continued, his voice growing firmer now. “And if you’ll let me, I’ll keep showing you that. Every single day.”

The world seemed to go quiet around you, the only sound your heartbeat roaring in your ears. You stared at him, his words echoing in your head. For a moment, you couldn’t speak, couldn’t move.

Then, with a slight smile tugging at your lips, you whispered, “Kiss me.”

Glen’s lips twitched into a soft, almost disbelieving smile. “Yeah?”

You nodded, your voice steady despite the butterflies in your stomach. “Yeah.”

He leaned in, his hand coming up to cup your cheek as his lips pressed softly against yours. It was tentative at first, almost as if he were afraid to push too far, but when you leaned into him, his other hand settled lightly on your waist, deepening the kiss.

It was everything you hadn’t realized you were waiting for—warm, electric, and grounding all at once. When you finally pulled back, you were both a little breathless, his forehead resting against yours as his hands lingered on your waist.

“Was that rom-com enough for you?” Glen teased softly, his grin full of warmth.

You laughed, your hands resting on his chest. “I’d say it’s a good start.”

Glen's grin widened at your response, and before you could say another word, he leaned in and kissed you again. This time, the kiss was deeper, more certain, and filled with an unspoken promise that sent your heart racing. When he pulled back, his hands still resting gently on your waist, he looked at you like you were the only person in the world.

But you weren’t about to let him off the hook that easily.

“You do know we're not dating now, right?” You said firmly, though your voice softened as you met his gaze. “If you want this to go anywhere, you’re going to have to prove you’re serious. No more excuses, no more letting me down.”

Glen nodded, his expression earnest. “I know. I’ll be better, I promise.”

“And,” you added, raising an eyebrow, “you’re going to start by taking me on an actual date. None of this ‘showing up with flowers and hoping for the best’ stuff.”

A smile spread across his face, and he chuckled softly. “I already know where I’m taking you.”

“Oh, do you?” you asked, crossing your arms and giving him a skeptical look.

“Yeah,” he said confidently, his eyes sparkling with a mix of determination and warmth. “But I’m not telling you. You’ll just have to wait and see.”

You rolled your eyes, but a smile tugged at your lips despite yourself. “Fine. Just don’t screw it up.”

“I won’t,” he promised, his tone soft but sure.

For a moment, the two of you stood there, the night air cool around you, the stars scattered across the sky. It wasn’t a perfect ending, but it felt like a beginning—one filled with hope, potential, and the possibility of something real.

“Come on,” Glen said, holding out his hand. “Let’s get you home.”

You took his hand, your heart lighter than it had been in a long time. Whatever came next, you knew one thing for sure: this time, things were going to be different.

[crossfandomskylines]

Mountain with a View

Pairing: Glen Powell (RPF) x Female Reader

Summary: Amid the beauty of a coastal getaway, years of neglect and unspoken pain come to a head as you confront Glen about the growing distance in your relationship. What begins as heartbreak turns into a moment of raw honesty as Glen opens up about his fears and regrets, and you acknowledge your own role in the cracks between you. With one final promise and a fragile hope for reconciliation, you take the first steps toward rebuilding, finding solace in the quiet reminder that love is worth fighting for.

Word Count: 8.5K

A/N: This is my first attempt at writing angst, and I think I did okay with it. This took me a little bit longer to write as I've been working on it for about a month or so. This is HEAVILY inspired by the song Mountain with a View by Kelsea Ballerini. I would love to know what you guys think!

The soft light of dawn spilled over the cliffs of Big Sur, painting the rugged coastline in hues of gold and pale pink. Through the open windows of the restaurant, the rhythmic crash of waves against the shore filled the air, steady and unchanging, like a heartbeat. The faint smell of salt mingled with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee, creating a serene tableau that should have felt like paradise.

The table was elegantly set, each detail carefully curated to reflect the luxury of the resort. Crisp white linens draped over the small table, their edges fluttering slightly in the gentle morning breeze. A delicate vase held a cluster of fresh flowers—soft blues and creams that mirrored the morning sky—while the steam rising from the coffee in front of you curled lazily upward, dissipating into the air. Two empty plates sat perfectly aligned, their white porcelain gleaming in the sunlight.

But your gaze lingered on the chair across from you. Empty.

The untouched menu lay neatly folded beside the vacant place setting, its pristine edges catching the light as if mocking the silence that hung between you and the space meant for him. You glanced down at your own menu, holding it loosely in your hands, though the words blurred together. How many times had you reread the same description of avocado toast? How many times had you looked up, hoping to see him striding through the doorway, his usual easy confidence carrying him to you with a quick apology and a kiss pressed to your temple?

The coffee in your mug had gone lukewarm. You wrapped your hands around it anyway, seeking comfort in its weight, its fleeting warmth. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you realized the server was probably waiting for a sign that you were ready to order. 

But you weren’t. Not yet.

This was supposed to be romantic. The thought came unbidden, sharp and bitter. You had envisioned something different for this morning—a quiet meal shared with him, stolen moments of intimacy as the rest of the world slowly woke. Instead, the carefully orchestrated perfection of the setting only made the absence feel heavier, more pronounced. The silence stretched, filled only by the distant crash of waves and the soft murmur of other diners scattered across the restaurant’s patio.

You set the menu down and traced a finger along the edge of the tablecloth, smoothing out an imaginary crease. The flowers in the vase shifted slightly in the breeze, their petals brushing against one another like a whisper.

And still, the chair across from you remained empty.

You lifted the mug to your lips, sipping the now-tepid coffee and willing the warmth to soothe the knot twisting tighter in your chest. But it didn’t. The weight of the empty chair across from you pressed heavier with each passing minute, and you couldn’t stop your thoughts from circling back to him.

You hadn’t heard from Glen since last night. A text around 9 p.m., short and vague, letting you know something had come up and he wouldn’t make it until today. No explanation, no details. Just: Sorry, won’t make it tonight. I’ll be there first thing tomorrow.

It was morning now, and tomorrow had become today, yet the chair in front of you remained unoccupied.

The unease gnawed at you, growing sharper with each passing second. This was his trip, his plan to reconnect, to prove that you both still had something worth holding onto. You hadn’t even asked for it; he’d been the one to insist you both needed a weekend away, somewhere beautiful and secluded, just the two of you. But now, sitting here alone at a table meant for two, it felt more like proof of how far apart you’d drifted than any sort of reconciliation.

“Excuse me,” a voice interrupted softly, and you glanced up to see the waiter standing nearby, his hands clasped neatly in front of him. His smile was polite but edged with curiosity, his gaze flickering briefly to the empty chair before returning to you. “Are you ready to order?”

You forced a smile, the corners of your mouth tugging upward as if on autopilot. “I think I’ll give it a few more minutes,” you said, your voice light but strained.

The waiter nodded, his professional demeanor not faltering as he replied, “Of course. Just let me know when you’re ready.” He moved away, weaving between tables to check on a couple sitting near the edge of the patio.

You exhaled slowly and reached for your phone, unlocking it with a swipe of your thumb. There he was, smiling back at you from the screen.

The photos posted this morning were polished, curated to perfection: behind-the-scenes shots of Glen on set, his arm slung casually around his co-stars; selfies of him laughing with the crew in picturesque European locations; snapshots of stunning landscapes captioned with vague, charming quips. You scrolled through them, one after another, and felt the ache in your chest deepen.

The pictures looked pretty—at least they did on his Instagram.

The sting of it settled in your chest like a sharp, jagged stone. You didn’t even know exactly where he was right now. The last time you’d spoken, he’d mentioned Amsterdam, but that was weeks ago. For all you knew, he could’ve been halfway across the continent by now.

Your thumb hovered over the screen, and for a moment, you debated texting him. Where are you? But you didn’t. Instead, you scrolled further, past the carefully filtered moments that felt so far removed from the reality you were sitting in.

When was the last time you’d had a real conversation with him?

You thought back to your recent texts, the ones that had become increasingly generic, a hollow routine of pleasantries that no longer carried the weight of meaning. Good morning, babe. Goodnight, miss you. The words had once made your heart flutter, a reminder that he was thinking of you even from miles away. 

Now, they just felt like muscle memory—sent out of obligation rather than genuine connection.

The memory of those texts brought a bitter taste to your mouth, sharper than the coffee you hadn’t touched in minutes. You set your phone down on the table with a quiet thud, your fingers curling into your lap as you tried to shake the growing resentment clawing its way up your throat.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to feel.

You stared out past the edge of the terrace, where the cliffs gave way to the water. The waves crashed below in a steady rhythm, their sound blending with the faint hum of conversation from the other tables. You tried to ground yourself in the moment, to let the beauty of the setting take the edge off the bitter thoughts swirling in your mind. 

But the ache inside was relentless, and your mind wandered to a different time—a time when things with Glen had felt so much simpler, so much easier.

He used to surprise you with the little things. You could still picture the way he’d walk into the apartment with your favorite coffee in hand, the sleeve scribbled with some inside joke that made you laugh every time. Or the way he’d grab your hand in the middle of the week and say, “C’mon, we’re going somewhere,” without offering a single clue as to where you were headed. You’d end up at some hole-in-the-wall restaurant he’d found on Yelp, or sitting on a blanket in the park with a takeout box between you. He always made it an adventure.

And the way he looked at you back then… you felt like the center of his universe. Like there was no one else in the world who mattered to him the way you did. You remembered the way his eyes would light up when you walked into a room, the way he’d pull you close just to tell you how beautiful you looked, even when you were in sweatpants and an old hoodie.

He loved me so much more at twenty-three.

The thought hit you like a wave, pulling you under. A lot can change in six years, it seems.

You used to believe that love grew stronger with time. That the shared memories, the inside jokes, the challenges you overcame together would deepen your connection. But now, sitting here alone at a table meant for two, it felt like the opposite had happened.

You remembered the first time he told you he loved you. You’d been dating for a few months, and he’d taken you to a concert in the city. It had been raining that night, and you both ended up soaked to the bone, laughing as you ran from the venue to his car. Later, as you sat wrapped in his jacket with your hands cradling a steaming cup of tea, he’d looked at you and said it like it was the easiest thing in the world: “I love you.”

You’d believed him then. Completely, utterly, without hesitation.

But now, the words felt like a faint echo of something that had once been vibrant and alive. You couldn’t even remember the last time he’d said it in a way that felt real. Not over a text, not in the perfunctory way he’d sign off on a phone call—but the way he used to say it, with his eyes locked on yours like he meant every syllable.

You ran a hand through your hair, the weight of the memories pressing down on you. Maybe it wasn’t fair to compare the past to the present. Maybe this was just what happened in relationships over time. But that didn’t make the emptiness you felt any easier to bear.

The waiter passed by again, and you glanced at the empty chair. Your chest tightened. He was supposed to be here. He was supposed to show up, to prove that this trip wasn’t just another empty promise. But as the minutes ticked by, the weight of his absence grew heavier, and the unease in your stomach gave way to something sharper—resentment, maybe.

Six years ago, he would’ve been here. Six years ago, he wouldn’t have let anything stop him.

And now? Now you weren’t sure what was left between you except memories of what used to be.

You let out a quiet breath, your gaze dropping to the untouched menu in front of you. Where did it all go wrong?

It wasn’t always like this—this hollow ache of waiting, of wondering. There was a time when Glen made you feel like you were his whole world. But now, it was like you were living in his orbit, watching him shine while you stood in the shadows, unseen and forgotten.

Your mind drifted back to the first time he missed something important. It wasn’t a big deal, not really. A dinner date that he had to cancel last minute because a meeting with a director ran late. You’d been disappointed, sure, but he made up for it the next night with takeout and your favorite movie. It felt like a one-time thing then—just a fluke in an otherwise perfect relationship.

But then it happened again. An anniversary he forgot until you reminded him the following morning. He’d scrambled to make a dinner reservation, his apology genuine but rushed. And then there was the weekend trip a few years back you’d planned together, the one you’d been looking forward to for weeks, canceled because he got called back to set for reshoots.

You told yourself it was temporary. That it wasn’t his fault. Glen was ambitious, and you admired that about him. He was chasing his dreams, and you wanted to support him.

But gradually, his career began to take priority over everything else—including you.

You remembered the first time you brought it up to him, years ago, around the time all the buzz for Top Gun: Maverick started. His career was taking off in ways neither of you had anticipated, and it felt like he was slipping away from you, one missed moment at a time.

“I just feel like…” you’d hesitated, trying to find the right words, “like we don’t see each other anymore. Like you’re always busy, and I’m just… here.”

He’d pulled you into his arms, his voice soft and reassuring. “I know, babe. I know it’s been a lot lately, but it’s just this project. Once it’s over, things will go back to normal. I promise.”

You wanted to believe him. And for a while, you did. But after the whirlwind press tour for Top Gun, there was another project. And then another. Each one bigger than the last. Each one demanding more of his time, his energy, his focus.

The promises he made—that things would slow down, that he’d have more time for you—started to feel like smoke slipping through your fingers. They were never meant to be kept, just empty words to soothe you in the moment.

The last year of your life had proven that. You could count on one hand the number of nights you’d spent together in the same place, and even then, his mind always seemed to be elsewhere. On a script, on a meeting, on whatever was waiting for him the next day.

Sitting at the table now, you wrestled with your emotions. Part of you wanted to believe that things could go back to the way they were, that the Glen you’d fallen in love with was still in there somewhere, waiting to come back to you. But deep down, you knew better. You couldn’t unring a bell. You couldn’t undo the years of distance that had grown between you.

The truth sat heavy in your chest, undeniable and cruel: Glen’s career wasn’t going to slow down anytime soon. And if you were honest with yourself, you weren’t sure how much longer you could keep waiting for him to choose you.

The sound of laughter from a nearby table broke your train of thought. You glanced toward the source, a young couple leaning into each other, their faces alight with the kind of joy you remembered so vividly from the early days with Glen.

You’d just decided to flag the waiter and order something when you heard footsteps approaching from behind.

“Sorry I’m late.”

His voice was smooth, polished, just like everything else about him. Glen always had a way of sounding like nothing was ever truly a big deal, like the world bent itself around his schedule and not the other way around.

You glanced up as he slid into the seat across from you, looking every bit the Hollywood leading man. His perfectly tousled hair caught the soft morning light, and his tailored shirt looked as though it had been pulled straight off a magazine cover. He flashed you the charming smile that used to make your heart race, but now it only made your stomach twist.

“You know how crazy things can get,” he added with a casual shrug, as if the excuse alone should absolve him.

You managed a tight smile, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “Yeah, I know.”

The silence stretched between you, thick and heavy, as Glen picked up the menu. You couldn’t help noticing the faint scent of his cologne, subtle but sharp, lingering in the air. It was the same one he’d worn for years, a scent that used to comfort you. Now it just felt distant, like a memory you couldn’t quite hold onto.

“So,” Glen began, his tone overly light, “how are you liking the trip so far?”

You glanced up at him, your fingers tightening around your coffee mug. “It’s fine.”

“Fine?” He raised an eyebrow, setting the menu down. “Come on, this place is amazing. I thought you’d love it.”

“It is amazing,” you replied, your voice quieter than you intended. You looked out the open window, watching the waves crash against the cliffs in the distance. “I just… I guess I thought we’d be seeing more of it together.”

The words hung in the air, heavier than you meant them to be. Glen shifted in his seat, picking up his water glass and taking a long sip.

“You know how things are,” he said, his tone apologetic but dismissive all the same. “This shoot’s been nonstop, and they’re already talking about reshoots next month. But I wanted us to have this time together, even if it’s just for a couple of days.”

“Right,” you murmured, forcing yourself to focus on the vase of fresh flowers between you. White lilies, delicate and pristine.

The clink of silverware against plates at a nearby table filled the silence. You glanced over at Glen, noting the way he avoided meeting your eyes for too long. He folded his hands in front of him, his polished watch catching the light, and for a moment, it felt like you were sitting across from a stranger.

He cleared his throat, forcing a smile. “So, what looks good here? Have you looked at the menu yet?”

You nodded, biting the inside of your cheek. “The avocado toast looks nice.”

“Avocado toast,” Glen repeated with a chuckle, shaking his head. “You’re so predictable.”

It was the kind of teasing that used to make you laugh, the kind that felt endearing. But now it felt different—like he was poking at a version of you he hadn’t taken the time to know in years.

You traced the rim of your coffee mug with your finger, searching for something to say, but nothing came. The silence grew, filled only by the distant crash of waves and the hum of other diners’ conversations.

Finally, Glen flagged down the waiter, ordering for both of you without so much as a glance in your direction. You didn’t correct him, even though you’d changed your mind about what you wanted.

The breakfast felt quiet and suffocating. Every bite of food tasted like nothing, every glance Glen threw your way felt like it came from someone miles away. You wanted to bridge the gap, to say something that would pull him back to you, but the words caught in your throat.

Instead, you focused on the details. The clink of his fork against his plate. The way he scrolled through his phone when he thought you weren’t looking. The half-empty coffee cup he didn’t bother finishing. And the way he kept glancing at his watch, like there was somewhere else he’d rather be. Somewhere else he probably was already planning to go.

Glen’s fork scraped against his plate as he finished the last bite of his omelet. You’d barely touched your avocado toast, pushing it around with your fork until it looked more like a suggestion of a meal than food.

He glanced at you, then down at the untouched plate. “Not hungry?”

You hesitated, forcing a faint smile. “I guess not.”

He nodded absently, flagging down the waiter with a lift of his hand. In one smooth motion, he pulled out his wallet, slipping a card onto the check tray as soon as it arrived. No hesitation, no glance at the total—it was a gesture that screamed effortless privilege, something that used to impress you. Now, it just felt... hollow.

“Ready?” he asked, standing and holding out a hand to you.

You stared at his outstretched hand for a moment too long before taking it, his grip firm but impersonal. He helped you out of your chair like it was a reflex, like leading you was second nature but looking at you wasn’t.

The two of you stepped out into the fresh morning air, the salty breeze carrying with it the faint crash of waves from below. Glen slipped on his sunglasses, the mirrored lenses catching the soft light of dawn as he looked down the narrow road leading toward your rental house.

“It’s a nice morning,” he said, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Want to walk back?”

You nodded, tucking your arms around yourself. “Sure.”

The two of you set off in silence, your shoes crunching against the gravel path before it gave way to the smooth cobblestones of the resort. The cliffs of Big Sur loomed in the distance, majestic and timeless, their beauty unchanging despite the ache in your chest.

Glen walked with the easy confidence he always carried, his long strides slowing slightly to match your pace. You stole a glance at him from the corner of your eye—his jaw was relaxed, his gaze hidden behind the reflective lenses of his sunglasses. He looked like someone who belonged in this setting, polished and effortless.

“Did you sleep okay last night?” Glen asked, breaking the silence.

“Yeah,” you lied. The truth was, you’d spent hours staring at the ceiling, the sound of distant waves doing nothing to quiet the spiral of thoughts in your head. “You?”

“As good as I could expect,” he replied, flashing you a quick smile. “You know how sleeping on a flight is.”

You nodded, unsure what else to say. The conversation fizzled out again, leaving only the sound of the waves and the occasional call of seagulls to fill the space between you.

As you rounded a corner, the rental house came into view—a charming, weathered cottage perched on the edge of a cliff, its white shutters standing out against the soft gray of its exterior. It had been your idea to book something cozy and intimate, a far cry from the glitzy resort Glen had looked into. At the time, you’d thought it would be a chance for the two of you to reconnect. Now, it just felt like a stage for the growing distance between you.

As he unlocked the door and stepped inside, you lingered for a moment, looking out at the endless expanse of ocean. The salty breeze swept through your hair, carrying with it a question you couldn’t push away:

When did it all start to fall apart?

The soft click of the door closing behind you felt heavier than it should have. Glen dropped his keys onto the small table by the door and shrugged out of his jacket, tossing it over the back of a chair. He moved through the cozy living room with the ease of someone who didn’t notice the growing weight in the air between you.

“So,” he said, heading toward the kitchen, “how’s Emily doing? She’s the friend who is pregnant, right? When’s she due again? We should probably send a gift or something, don’t you think?”

You froze where you stood, his words settling over you like ice.

“The baby shower was four months ago,” you said slowly, your voice tight. “Her daughter’s going to be three months old next week. I showed you a picture of her when she was born.”

Glen paused mid-step, glancing back at you with a sheepish smile. “Right. I—I guess I forgot.”

Forgot.

The word echoed in your mind, dredging up every other time he’d “forgotten”—anniversaries, birthdays, plans you’d made weeks in advance. The ache in your chest swelled, anger and hurt twisting together in a knot that felt impossible to untangle.

“You forgot,” you repeated, your voice sharper now. “Of course, you forgot. Why would you remember anything about my life when you’re too busy living your own?”

He frowned, the easy confidence he always carried faltering for a moment. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

You stepped closer, your arms crossed tightly over your chest, as if that could somehow hold you together. “It means you don’t know anything about me anymore, Glen. Not really. You’re so out of touch with my life it’s like you’re not even in it.”

“Come on, that’s not fair,” he said, his voice rising defensively. “I’ve been busy. You know how crazy things get with work.”

“You’ve been busy?” You laughed bitterly, the sound sharp enough to cut through the tension. “That’s your excuse for everything, isn’t it? I’ve been here waiting, Glen. Not just today, but for years. Waiting for you to show up. Waiting for you to keep your promises.”

Glen ran a hand through his hair, his frustration bleeding into his tone. “You knew what you were signing up for when we got together. You knew my career was important to me.”

“And what about me?” The words burst out of you, raw and unfiltered. “Was I ever important to you? Or was I just supposed to sit here and smile and wait while you made excuse after excuse? You promised things would get better, but they haven’t. And I can’t keep waiting for you to show up.”

His jaw tightened, and he shook his head, his voice low and simmering. “You’re being dramatic. It’s not like I don’t care about you.”

“Do you?” you shot back, your voice trembling with anger and something far more vulnerable. “Because it doesn’t feel like it. You’ll say I’m crazy for being the one to leave, but I can’t keep doing this, Glen. I can’t keep pretending everything’s fine while you’re barely here.”

For a moment, the room was silent, the weight of your words hanging in the air between you. Glen stared at you, his expression unreadable, as if he was trying to piece together how things had unraveled so quickly.

When he finally spoke, his voice was quieter, but no less defensive. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“I want you to try,” you said, your voice cracking. “I want you to fight for this, for us, but you don’t...And I don’t think you ever will.”

His silence was deafening, and in that moment, you knew.

You turned away, wrapping your arms around yourself as tears burned at the corners of your eyes. The sound of the waves crashing in the distance filtered through the open windows, a cruel reminder of the beauty around you that felt so out of reach.

When Glen finally spoke again, his voice was barely above a whisper. “I didn’t realize you felt this way.”

You turned back to him, your gaze steady despite the tears threatening to spill. “That’s the problem, Glen. You don’t realize anything.”

Glen stayed rooted to the spot, his hands resting on the back of the chair he’d just pulled out. His knuckles whitened against the wood as he gripped it tighter, the weight of your words pressing down on him.

“You’ll say I’m crazy for being the one to leave,” he repeated quietly, almost to himself. The phrase hung in the air, raw and unforgiving.

He looked up at you then, his usual polished composure cracking ever so slightly. His brows drew together, and his jaw flexed like he was trying to find the right words and failing. When he finally opened his mouth to speak, his voice wavered, and he stopped. His hand rose to his face, dragging down his jaw as he cleared his throat.

“You really want to leave?” he asked, his voice low and strained, like the words physically hurt to say.

You hadn’t expected him to sound so... vulnerable. It caught you off guard, but it wasn’t enough to soften the ache in your chest.

You turned toward him slowly, your arms still wrapped around yourself. The tightness in your throat returned, and you had to swallow hard before you could respond. You didn’t trust your voice, so you just nodded.

The moment stretched between you, heavy and suffocating. Glen exhaled sharply, running both hands through his hair now. He paced a few steps before stopping, his back to you.

“I didn’t... I didn’t realize it was this bad,” he said, his voice quiet, almost a whisper. He sounded less like the confident, larger-than-life man you’d fallen for and more like someone lost.

“That’s the problem,” you said softly, not out of anger but exhaustion. “You didn’t realize. You never realize.”

He turned back to face you, his eyes searching yours like he was looking for some flicker of hope, something to hold on to. “I know I’ve screwed up, okay? I know I haven’t been... I haven’t been what you needed. But I thought—I thought we were okay. I thought we’d figure it out like we always do.”

“Glen, we haven’t been ‘okay’ in a long time,” you said, your voice breaking on the last word. “I’ve been waiting for things to change, for you to keep your promises, but they’re always just words. And I can’t keep waiting for something that’s never going to happen.”

He took a step closer, his expression pleading. “I can do better. I’ll make time for you, for us. Just—don’t give up on me. On us.”

You shook your head, tears spilling over now despite your best efforts to hold them back. “I can't keep doing this. I’ve been holding on for so long, Glen. But I’m tired. I’m so tired of being second to everything else in your life.”

His shoulders slumped, and he took another step closer, hesitating like he didn’t know if he was allowed to touch you. “So that’s it? You’re done?”

The tightness in your throat became unbearable, but you forced yourself to meet his gaze. Your voice was barely above a whisper when you finally spoke. “I think I have to be.”

The words hung in the space between you, final and irrevocable. Glen’s face crumpled, and for a moment, you thought he might say something, might fight harder. But then he just nodded, a hollow acceptance settling over him.

You looked away, unable to bear the sight of him like that, and wrapped your arms tighter around yourself. The sound of the waves outside filled the silence as the two of you stood there, caught between what had been and what would never be again.

The silence between you lingered, heavy and unbearable, until Glen finally broke it. “Do you... do you want me to book you a flight home?”

His voice was low, almost tentative, like he was afraid of your answer. You didn’t look at him, staring down at the floor instead. Your chest tightened at the question, the finality of it. You didn’t trust yourself to speak, so you simply nodded.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the way his shoulders slumped, the way he exhaled like the air had been punched out of him. For a moment, he didn’t move, didn’t say anything. You swore you could feel the exact moment his heart broke, could see it in the defeated way he ran a hand through his hair. Maybe, some small part of him had been holding on to the hope that this was all a bad dream—that you’d wake up tomorrow and things would go back to normal.

But your nod was the final blow, and he seemed to understand that. “Okay,” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. He nodded once, more to himself than to you, and turned toward the bedroom. “I’ll... I’ll take care of it.”

He didn’t look back as he walked away, and you didn’t call after him.

As the sound of his footsteps faded, you turned toward the glass doors leading out to the balcony. The cool morning air hit you the moment you stepped outside, carrying with it the faint scent of salt and sea. The waves crashed rhythmically against the cliffs below, indifferent to the turmoil inside you.

You gripped the edge of the balcony railing, the smooth metal cold beneath your palms. The weight of everything—the fight, the words you’d spoken, the reality of what you’d just done—pressed down on you. It felt suffocating and freeing all at once.

You took a deep, shaky breath, trying to steady the swirl of emotions inside you. This was it. The end of something that had once been everything to you. Six years of memories, of laughter and love, of promises whispered in the dark—they all came rushing back, unbidden, and it took everything in you not to crumble under the weight of them.

But as painful as it was, you knew you’d made the right choice.

For the first time in a long time, you let yourself feel it all—the grief, the anger, the sadness, the relief.

Inside, you could hear faint sounds of movement—Glen probably on the phone, making arrangements to send you home. The home you hadn’t been to in days, but already longed for.

You closed your eyes, letting the wind whip through your hair, and exhaled. You didn’t know what came next, but for now, all you could do was stand here, on this edge, and breathe.

The wind swirled around you as you leaned on the balcony railing, the weight of everything settling deep in your chest. The sound of the waves was steady, soothing even, but it couldn’t drown out the muffled noise that drifted through the open window behind you.

At first, you didn’t register it. But then it came again—a soft, broken sound that made you still.

You turned slightly, glancing over your shoulder toward the bedroom. Through the sheer curtains fluttering in the breeze, you saw him. Glen was sitting on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, his face buried in his hands.

His shoulders were shaking.

You froze, the sight striking something deep inside you. It wasn’t loud or dramatic—just a quiet, private unraveling. But it was unmistakable: Glen was crying.

The realization hit you like a wave, unexpected and overwhelming. Glen never cried. He’d always been the one to keep his emotions in check, to brush off pain or sadness with a laugh or a quick deflection. The only time you’d ever seen him like this was years ago, when his family lost his grandmother. You’d held him then, wrapping your arms around him as he let himself break, his face buried in your shoulder.

And now, watching him through the window, you were reminded of that moment. Only this time, he wasn’t leaning on you for comfort. He was alone, carrying the weight of what had just happened all by himself.

This wasn’t the polished, distant Glen who had been showing up less and less in your life. This wasn’t the Glen who missed breakfasts or forgot about baby showers. This was the man you fell in love with—the one who used to bring you your favorite coffee on a random Tuesday, who looked at you like you were the only thing in the world that mattered. This was your Glen.

Your throat tightened as you watched him, your heart aching in a way that felt almost unbearable.

A part of you wanted to go to him, to cross the room and sit beside him, to wrap your arms around him and tell him it was going to be okay. That you didn’t mean it, that you’d stay, that you could find a way to fix things together.

But your feet wouldn’t move.

Because deep down, you knew that even if you comforted him now, it wouldn’t change anything. The years of distance, of broken promises, of waiting and hoping—it wasn’t something a single moment could undo.

Still, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from him. The sight of him like this—so raw, so unguarded—tugged at something inside you, a small flicker of the love you’d been trying to let go of.

You turned back to the balcony railing, gripping it tightly as you tried to steady yourself. The sound of his quiet sobs carried through the air, cutting through you in a way that made it hard to breathe.

And finally, you let yourself cry too.

The silence between you was heavy, the kind that wrapped itself around you and wouldn’t let go. You stayed on the balcony, gripping the railing like it was the only thing keeping you upright. Silent tears rolled down your cheeks, the occasional hitch in your breath the only sound you made.

Inside, Glen hadn’t moved much. You could still see him through the window, his figure barely shifting as he sat on the edge of the bed. His shoulders had stopped shaking, but he hadn’t lifted his head.

Minutes passed, maybe an hour—you weren’t sure. Time felt like it had frozen, stretching out endlessly in this painful limbo.

Finally, you heard him making his way out of the bedroom.

“The earliest flight I could get is this afternoon,” he said, his voice rough and low, like he hadn’t spoken in days.

You turned to look at him, meeting his eyes through the thin veil of the curtain. They were red-rimmed and glassy, his face pale, his jaw tight like he was holding something back.

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak.

He stood then, running a hand through his hair before stepping through the sliding glass door onto the patio where you were.. He stopped just short of you, as if there was an invisible barrier between you.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice cracking on the words. “For everything.”

You swallowed hard, blinking back more tears as you waited for him to continue.

“For not making you a priority. For being too caught up in my own world to see what I was doing to you—what I was doing to us.” He paused, his chest rising and falling as he tried to steady himself. “I didn’t mean to... I just—I didn’t know how to fix it.”

Your lips parted slightly, but you stayed quiet, letting him get it out.

“I thought if I just worked hard enough,” he said, his voice dropping to barely above a whisper, “I could make everything perfect for us. The house, the vacations, the security—everything. I thought that’s what you deserved. But... I see now I’ve just been pushing you away.”

The vulnerability in his eyes hit you like a punch to the chest. It was the same look he’d had years ago, the one that made you fall for him in the first place. It was a raw, unguarded honesty that you hadn’t seen in what felt like forever.

“I was scared,” he admitted, his voice breaking again. “I could tell things were getting bad, but I didn’t know how to fix them. And there was so much I couldn’t control—work, schedules, everything. So I buried myself in it, thinking... I don’t know. Maybe if I just stayed busy, I wouldn’t have to face the fact that I was losing you.”

Tears welled up in your eyes again, and you had to look away, your gaze dropping to the wooden floor of the balcony.

“All I want is for you to be happy,” Glen said, his tone softer now, almost pleading. “And if... if you're not happy with...” His voice cracked completely, and he had to stop, clearing his throat before continuing. “If you're not happy with me, then... I’ll understand.”

You looked back at him then, really looked at him, and for a moment, it felt like you were staring at the Glen you used to know—the one who used to bring you coffee just because, who used to hold your hand in the car, who used to make you feel like you were the center of his universe.

But that version of him felt so far away now, like a memory you could barely reach.

“I just... I just want you to be happy,” he repeated, his voice barely audible, as if saying it again might make it hurt less.

You wiped at your eyes, feeling the weight of his words settle over you. They were honest, raw, and for the first time in what felt like forever, they felt real. But they weren’t enough—not anymore.

You turned fully to face him, leaning back against the balcony railing for support. The tightness in your chest didn’t ease, but you forced yourself to speak through it.

“It’s not just you, Glen,” you began, your voice trembling. “I—I let this happen too.”

His brow furrowed slightly, as if your admission confused him.

“I’ve been avoiding the hard conversations,” you continued, looking down at your hands, your thumb nervously tracing over the edge of your ring. “Because I was scared. Scared of what they might reveal. Scared that if I said how I really felt, it would all just... fall apart.”

His lips parted, but he didn’t speak, waiting for you to finish.

“I thought that if I just kept quiet, if I just kept pretending everything was fine, then maybe we could get back to the way we used to be eventually. But it hasn’t worked. And now... now I feel like we’ve just been drifting further and further apart.”

You paused, taking a shaky breath, your fingers tightening around the edge of the railing.

“I love you, Glen,” you said, your voice breaking on the words. “God, I love you so much it hurts sometimes. But love isn’t enough—not if you’re never here. Not if you’re always somewhere else, chasing something I can’t reach. I'm never going to be happy if you're not here with me.”

He flinched like the words physically hit him, his hands clenching into fists at his sides before he shoved them into his pockets.

“I need you to be present,” you said, tears spilling over your lashes again. “I need to feel like I matter to you, like our relationship matters to you. And I haven’t felt that in so long.”

His jaw worked, his gaze dropping to the floor as he struggled to find something to say. You could see the tension in his posture, the way his shoulders rose and fell with each heavy breath.

“You do matter to me,” he said finally, his voice hoarse. “You matter more than anything. I just... I didn’t realize how much I was failing you. I thought I was doing all of this for us, but I see now that it’s not enough. That I’m not enough.”

You shook your head quickly, stepping closer to him. “It’s not about being enough, Glen. It’s about being here. Being with me, not just physically, but emotionally.”

He looked up at you then, his eyes glistening, and for a moment, neither of you said anything. The weight of everything you’d been holding back for years hung in the air between you, raw and unfiltered.

“I don’t want to lose you,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

Your heart ached at his words, at the pain in his expression, but you didn’t know how to bridge the chasm that had grown between you.

“I don’t want to lose you either,” you admitted, your voice trembling. 

The silence stretched between you, heavy and fragile, until Glen took a tentative step forward. His hand hovered in the space between you for a moment, like he was waiting for permission. Then, with a careful slowness, he closed the distance and pulled you into his chest.

The warmth of his embrace was immediate, familiar, and for a moment, it felt like you could let yourself fall apart. His arms wrapped around you securely, one hand resting against the back of your head as he tilted his chin down to press a kiss to your hair.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m so, so sorry.”

You didn’t respond—not with words, at least. Instead, you buried your face against his chest, the fabric of his shirt soaking up your tears. Your arms slipped around his waist, your hands clutching at the back of his shirt like it was the only thing anchoring you to the ground.

His grip tightened, just enough to make you feel safe, but not enough to smother. You could hear his heart beating against your ear, steady and strong, and for a fleeting second, you wondered if you’d ever hear it this close again.

You clung to him, your fingers curling into the material of his shirt as if holding on could somehow freeze time. The thought that this might be the last time you’d feel his arms around you made your throat tighten, and fresh tears spilled down your cheeks.

He leaned down closer, his lips brushing against the top of your head as he murmured, “I never wanted this. I never wanted to hurt you.”

You shook your head weakly, your voice muffled against his chest as you choked out, “I didn’t either.”

Glen pulled back slightly, just enough to look at you, his hands still resting on your shoulders. His eyes searched yours, wide and desperate, his voice breaking as he finally spoke.

“Please,” he said, the single word trembling with emotion. “Just... give me one more chance.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but the words caught in your throat. His grip tightened just slightly, not enough to hurt, but enough to anchor you in place.

“I know I’ve said this before,” he continued, his voice low but urgent, “but this time it’s different. I swear to you, it’s different.”

You wanted to believe him—God, you wanted to—but doubt lingered like a shadow in the back of your mind. He must have seen it on your face because he rushed to keep speaking, the words tumbling out almost faster than he could say them.

“I’ve been thinking—really thinking—about how I’ve let you down. About how I’ve let us down. And you’re right. I’ve been so caught up in work, in trying to make everything perfect, that I didn’t see how much I was losing in the process. But I’m done, okay? I’m done putting my career ahead of you.”

Your breath hitched, the weight of his words sinking in. “What are you saying?” you whispered, barely able to meet his gaze.

He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he nodded like he’d already made the decision. “After this project wraps, I’m taking a break. A real one this time. No more back-to-back shoots, no more press tours that take me halfway across the world. I’ll cut back—one, maybe two projects a year, tops. I don’t care if it hurts my career. I just want to stop hurting you.”

His words were raw, unpolished, but they hit you like a punch to the chest. For the first time in years, it felt like he wasn’t just saying what he thought you wanted to hear. There was thought behind his words, real intention.

He took a deep, shaky breath and pressed on, his voice softer now. “I’ll do whatever. Whatever you need, whatever it takes. I’ll prove to you that I can be better. That I can be the man you fell in love with again.”

You stared at him, your tears blurring his face as his words echoed in your mind. You could feel the sincerity in every syllable, see it in the way his hands trembled slightly as they held onto you, like you were the only thing keeping him from falling apart.

“Please,” he whispered again, his voice cracking as his hands slid down to take yours in his. “Just give me one more chance. I’ll do whatever it takes to fix this. To fix us.”

His words wrapped around your heart, tugging you in two directions. The part of you that had been hurt over and over again wanted to stay guarded, to keep the walls you’d built firmly in place. But another part—the part that still loved him, that still saw glimpses of the man you’d fallen for—wanted to believe him.

This time, it felt real. It felt different. And for the first time in years, you allowed yourself to imagine that maybe, just maybe, it could be.

You took a deep, steadying breath. You took a step back, your gaze dropping to where Glen’s hands now held yours. His grip was firm but not forceful, a silent plea for you to trust him just one more time. You swallowed hard, your voice barely above a whisper when you finally spoke.

“I’ll stay,” you said, the words trembling on your lips. Glen’s breath hitched, and you could feel his grip tighten ever so slightly, like he wasn’t sure if he’d heard you correctly. “Just for the rest of the weekend. When we get back home... we’ll figure out what happens next.”

The relief that washed over his face was almost heartbreaking. His shoulders sagged, the tension visibly draining from his body as he nodded quickly. “Thank you,” he said softly, his voice thick with emotion. “That’s all I need right now. Just... thank you.”

You gave a small nod, unable to say anything more as you turned and made your way back to the balcony. The cool ocean breeze kissed your cheeks as you leaned over the railing, staring out at the endless expanse of water. The waves crashed softly against the shore, their rhythmic sound both soothing and haunting.

A moment later, you felt Glen step behind you. His arms wrapped gently around your waist, pulling you back into the solid warmth of his chest. He didn’t say anything at first, just rested his chin lightly on the top of your head as the two of you stared out at the water in silence.

It wasn’t the silence of before—the heavy, suffocating kind that carried unspoken resentment. This was different. It was quiet, yes, but there was a sense of fragile peace in it. Like the storm that had been raging between you for so long had finally calmed, even if only for a moment.

“I love you,” Glen whispered, his voice so soft you almost didn’t hear it over the sound of the waves. But you did, and the words sent a fresh wave of emotion coursing through you.

You closed your eyes, leaning back into him as your hands moved to rest on top of his where they were wrapped around your waist. “I know,” you murmured, your voice thick with unshed tears.

For the first time in what felt like forever, you allowed yourself to let go of the hurt, if only for a little while. You let yourself feel the weight of his arms around you, the steady rise and fall of his chest against your back, the quiet sincerity in his voice.

As you stood there together, you thought back to that moment earlier in the day—standing alone, feeling the crushing weight of loneliness as you stared out at the beauty of this place. A mountain with a view, and yet, it had felt so empty.

But now, with Glen’s arms around you, it felt different. The view was still the same, the ocean stretching endlessly before you, the horizon painted in hues of gold and pink as the sun began its descent. But now, you weren’t alone.

And for the first time in a long time, you allowed yourself to hope that maybe, just maybe, you wouldn’t have to be.

[inmyglenpowellera]

The ladies at work know by now to just hand me the people magazine when it comes in the mail. I continously flipped through this issue until I found exactly what I was looking for...

Our leading man with his thirst trap puppy.

My office manager looked over when I stopped flipping and looked at the page and said "Why am I not surprised that was who you were looking for?"

I was like.....

Even my office manager knows about my love for this man 🤭

[multifandomfanficss]

Don’t Stop My Heart

Tyler Owens x Reader

Prompt: You and Tyler take a road trip up to Iowa to catch some of the last tornadoes of the season, but he takes the teasing a little too far.

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, mentions of car crashes, swerving, shitty ex boyfriends. No use of Y/N.

A/N: Hello! I didn’t proofread this one as many times as I usually do. I’m coming off a 4 and a half month writers block so I really just wanted to write and post while I was excited to do it. My job has been draining me as of late, so I’m trying to write when I get the impulse. I have so many Tyler ideas and no time to write them. Crossposted on my AO3 adriansglasses.

It was still fairly early, the sun was still rising. Last night you’d planned an impromptu trip up north to Iowa. It was about a 7 hour trip from Oklahoma, so you were on the road before 6. You were hoping to get there around noon. You didn’t love getting up that early, but Tyler promised he’d drive you and you could sleep in the truck. Tornado season was pretty much over aside from an isolated storm or two, but Iowa had been having very unusual storm activity all week. Tyler couldn’t resist hitting a couple more tornadoes in late August when the season was supposed to be pretty much over with.

You stayed awake for a little bit. You wanted to watch as you crossed into Missouri.

“Missouri welcomes you.” Tyler reads out loud.

“Yes! Finally!” You giggle.

“I didn’t realize you were such a big fan of Missouri.” Tyler comments.

“Oh, I’m not.” You pause, looking out your window.

“First you’re hypin’ her up, now you’re gonna disappoint her.” He jokes.

“I’m sorry, I’m sure Missouri’s fine, but I’m more excited about that.” You point to a Hardee’s down the street.

“Really? We’re crossin’ state lines and you’re gonna make me take you to Hardee’s? You can get Carl’s Jr. anytime you want back home. That’s basically the same thing.” He argues.

“Take that back! You’re just saying that because you’re a Texas boy! You’ve never had the luxury of Hardee’s.” You joke.

“If Carl’s Jr. is better, I’m not letting you pick where we eat for the rest of the trip.” Tyler puts on his turn signal and sighs.

“How is that fair? I’ve never eaten at this location. What if it sucks?” You laugh.

“You picked your Hardee’s hill and now you’re gonna die on it. Now keep your trap closed and tell me what’s good on the menu.” Tyler makes a pretend threatening face towards you as he pulls into the drive thru.

“How am I supposed to not talk and at the same time tell you what’s good?” You tease back.

“Hi welcome to Hardee’s, may I take your order?” The drive thru speaker cuts you off. Tyler shushes you and you giggle.

After getting your food you start unwrapping the straws and putting them in both drinks.

“Whatever score we give this we need to give it extra points to account for how good the curly fries would be if they were serving lunch.” You try to bargain, taking a bite.

“No, you can’t just change the rules after we already got our food, that’s cheating. Just because you’re from the north, doesn’t mean you can cheat me.” He argues. He continues driving, leaving behind the paved roads of the small town.

“You’re acting like I’m Canadian!” You giggle.

“Well, Upper Midwest is basically Canada. There’s literally a town in Iowa called Toronto!” He smirks, taking the last bite of his food, continuing to drive through the middle of nowhere Missouri, back onto the gravel roads through the soybean fields.

“Shut up!” You playfully hit his arm. He jokingly swerves and your stomach flips. You gasp air. “Tyler, knock it off.”

“You’re the one who hit me.” He pleas innocent.

“I didn’t hit you that hard.” You defend.

“I thought you were gonna sleep on the drive.” He says, smirking.

“I might later, I’m not tired.” You answer, falling for his bit. He does a big fake yawn.

“Well if you’re not tired, I might take a little nap.” He lightly swerves again.

“Tyler, this isn’t funny!” You plead.

“What? Oh. Do you mind watching the road? We woke up so early and I’m pretty tired.” He jokes before swerving again. He’s taking the joke way too far. Once was one thing, twice was too much. You start hyperventilating.

“Tyler, STOP!” You yell, tears starting to come to your eyes.

“Woah woah woah, sweetheart, it’s okay. I’m sorry. I’ll stop.” He has a concerned look on his face. He knew he had taken it too far.

“It’s not funny.” You cry.

“You’re right, it’s not funny. I would never-a done it if I’d known it would make you feel unsafe. I do it all the time on chases and that don’t seem to bother you. I didn’t realize-“

“That’s different! The roads and the fields when there’s no storms are different! We’re on an actual road! What- what if there were other people?! What if you hit somebody?! What if a sherif saw?!” You say, obviously still panicking. Tyler decides to pull over.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. I was way outta line, but we’re in the middle of nowhere. There’s no cars or tractors around. We’re safe.” His voice is soft. “Just breathe, Darlin’. Just you and me.” He takes your hand, rubbing small circles in it. “I feel bad. I wanted a reaction outta you, but not like this. I never want you to feel unsafe with me.”

“I know.” You were still struggling to breathe. Tyler places your hand on his chest to feel the rise and fall of his breathing. He hopes you can sync yours with his own.

“Take it easy, sweetheart. You’re okay. Feel me breathing? We’re both okay.” He places a kiss to your forehead.

“I’m sorry… it’s not you. When I was in high school I had a crazy ex boyfriend who used to swerve in town just to scare me because he knew I was afraid of car crashes. He almost killed us a couple times, I think. I guess no matter how much time’s passed, dumb high school bullshit still affects me into my adult years.”

“Hey, that’s not okay. It’s not dumb bullshit. It’s trauma.” You lean over the console to be closer to him and he wraps his arms around you. “I would never put you in danger like that for the sake of a joke.” You could tell his blood was boiling on the inside, but he was trying to keep himself calm. He didn’t want to upset you more. He knew this was about you feeling better, not him.

“We gotta get going if we wanna try to make it by 1.” You wipe your tears.

“I don’t care how long we’re pulled over. Hell, we can even turn around if you’re not up to anymore. I don’t care about the chase. I care about you.” He moves your hair out of your face. “I can call the rest of the team and tell them to turn around right now or go without us.”

“What happened to Mr. If You Feel It, Chase It?” You joke, trying to lighten the mood. He looks into your eyes. You don’t know if you’ve ever seen him so serious.

“The only feeling that matters is the one I get when I’m with you.“

Tears start creeping up again. These tears aren’t bad, though.

“Tyler, I’m in love with you.” It just slips out, like the easiest confession you’ve ever made in your life. You both knew there was something there, but neither one of you were willing to say it. It had always been heavy flirting, awkward mornings after cuddling in the only bed left at the motel, a drunk kiss or two.

After a moment of staring in silence Tyler kisses you. Everything happened in slow motion, but in truth it was probably just the adrenaline slowing everything down. Tyler wasted no time in kissing you. It was the quickest decision he’s ever made. You don’t know how long the kiss was. Whatever it was, it wasn’t enough. Nothing would ever be enough. You’d swear off oxygen for the rest of your life if it meant this moment never had to end. You’d been pinning after your best friend for so long and finally the moment was here.

“I’m so glad you said something because you’re one of the best navigators I know and I really didn’t wanna risk losing you from the team by telling you I was in love with you.” Tyler laughs.

“Is that the only reason you didn’t tell me?” You ask.

“No, I was scared. Losing you from the team would be a bummer, but I couldn’t lose you from my life. We see a lot of loss in this business. Whenever I thought about it, the thing I couldn’t stand to lose most was you.” He runs his fingers through your hair, moving to cup your cheek.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

It was nice to finally say it. You’d waited a long time to tell him.

“Let’s get back on the road. This time just don’t stop my heart.” You give a small laugh.

“You’re safe with me.”

“I know. You’re not like those other guys, Ty.”

You hold hands and rest on his other arm as he drives. He’s lucky he’s good at driving with one hand because he’s happy to see about 30 minutes later you’ve finally fallen asleep. Today was going to be a long day, but Tyler knew forcing the team to wake up so early was worth it. He may have had to bribe Boone 20 bucks to drive the other car up with Lily, but at least he didn’t have a third wheel sitting in the back seat. Tyler didn’t get a lot of alone time with you. Now he had 7 hours of it. It was worth it.

[disturbedbeautywrites]

Too close to home - Tyler Owens Imagine

A/N: Alright babes, so here she is. Hope you guys like it. This is based off an actual tornado I experienced last year (Gotta love tornado alley).

Spring. It was your favorite season and also your least favorite season at the same time. It was the time of year when they flowers started to bloom, it started to warm up, and everyone seemed happier. However, it was also the time of year when tornadoes were the most prevalent. Living in tornado alley meant you were well versed in the forces of nature. They were big. They were mean. They didn’t care what was in their way. Ever since you were a kid, they scared you. You knew the signs and you watched out for them when they came.

It was the dark clouds. It was the smell of rain in the air. It was the cool air and the warm breeze mixing together to bring a perfect mix of chaos. It absolutely terrified you; especially since you worked at a news station and saw what happened when you covered storm damage.

Now, your boyfriend, was a whole other story. You were dating the tornado wrangler himself, Tyler Owens, and the two of you could not be anymore different in your opinions on the monstrous forces of nature. He thought they were beautiful and wanted to chase after them. You thought they were horrible and wanted to stay far away. But, each and every spring you let him chase his passion as long as he promised to keep himself safe and always come back home. He promised and had yet to break it.

It was your two year anniversary and the two of you were cuddled up in bed watching a movie. There was a tornado warning in the area, but Tyler had been watching the tornado tracker on his phone and he felt like there was next to no chance that the ones on the ground would come anywhere near your shared home. Most nights, he would be out chasing the storm with his crew, but he had agreed to stay home with you tonight to spend time with you to celebrate your anniversary.

Your head was on his chest and his fingers were combing through your hair, both your eyes locked on the TV. Outside, the storm was starting to pick up. The thunder was starting to get louder and the rain was starting to pound on the window harder; hail starting to mix in with it. Your eyes widened at the sound, but Tyler didn’t seem to even blink twice, his hand moving down to soothe down your spine. Of course, leave it to the tornado chaser to not even blink at a severe storm. You wished you shared his bravery, but you definitely did not. As the storm started to progress he picked up his phone to check the weather and the tornado tracker, still seeing that there was nothing coming towards you guys and you were safe to not take shelter.

But, as you were sitting there you could start to hear a train in the distance sound like it was passing through and you felt confusion start to cloud your mind. You didn’t remember any train tracks near your house.. But, it definitely sounded like there was a freight train passing by. You looked at Tyler just as his phone rang, one of the guys he chased with calling him.

He pressed a kiss to your forehead and went to standup, answering the call. He pulled the blinds back and revealed a severely dark sky outside your window before he looked at you, eyes wide. The train was getting louder and louder. “Yeah. Ya’ll stay safe.” Just as he was going to hang up the phone, the entire house went dark as the power went out. In the dark and the silence of the house you could barely make him out walking swiftly towards you. He was normally calm about everything so the swift way he was moving made a sense of dread settle through your bones and into your stomach. You had never seen him like this and you had watched him race towards tornadoes hundreds of times by now without even seeming to be phased. But, whatever was happening right now had him rattled.

“We have to get to cover now.” That was all he said as he reached out for your hand, lacing your fingers together as he pulled you towards the back door of your shared home. You had never once heard him warn you to take shelter, so something really bad must be happening. The two of you made your way outside and everything was super dark. Rain was pelting down from the sky in massive drops as it mixed with hail. The wind was whipping around you and Tyler held your hand tight as the two of you made your way towards the door that was propped up outside of the ground. He started to open it, turning around to see a massive funnel cloud making its way right towards your house.

You felt your blood run cold as it started to descend down towards the ground and you heard him urging you to hurry, reaching out to grab your wrist. He was yelling something but you couldn’t hear him over the wind, you just could make out the sound of him yelling but the words were incomprehensible. You felt a tug on your wrist as he ushered you inside, standing to take in the beauty of the descending tornado as it tore down on your neighborhood quickly.

“Ty!” You yelled out for him as you made your way down the stairs, the chaos of everything making you feel more panicked than you already were. But, the look on his eyes said everything. The passion. The dedication. “She’s damn perfect.” You could tell he was either saying the words or mouthing them, but the wind was taking possession of his voice. You knew he was wishing he was chasing this storm. However, that would’ve meant you would be dealing with this alone. You had never been in a storm like this before and now you were about to be in the eye of a tornado.

He finally snapped out of his trance and made his way down into the cellar with you. He slammed the door shut behind him, locking it into place with the deadbolt as you turned on the flashlight on your phone.

Luckily when you had moved in you had stocked the storm shelter with some food and water and a bag of clothes for each of you if you guys would end up needing it. But, you hoped and prayed you wouldn’t. You turned on the lantern the two of you kept down there as you grabbed one of the few blankets you had down there and you tried to make yourself comfortable, hearing the wind howl outside through the door.

“C’mere.” The southern drawl was the first thing you heard your boyfriend say since the two of you had left the house. He had his arm out for you as he turned his phone on to the weather channel, pulling up the radar as the weatherman went on and on about the tornado that was now knocking on your front door.

Your heart was racing and you felt like you couldn’t breathe as you slid in close to his side, covering both of your laps with the blanket as you tried not to think about what could potentially be happening a couple of feet above you. Would it take the house? Would it take your trucks? The barn? You didn’t want to think about it and you hid your face in his arm as he slid a hand under your shirt, rubbing soft circles into your skin with his thumb. “Itll be alright, darlin’.” You knew it would be, but the anxiety was still running rampant through you as well as guilt for him staying home with you tonight.

“I’m sorry you’re here and not out there right now.” Your voice felt too quiet for the situation, but you let it stay like that. Ever since you had started dating, you had never made him miss a storm. You had always told him to go. Told him to just be safe and keep you updated. Every single time he did. But, tonight he had insisted and now it was eating at you.

You felt his eyes look down at you as he sat his phone down, now using his free hand to tilt your chin to look up at him. “I would rather be here with you. If I was chasing that storm, I would be trying to outrun it to get home to you,” He kept his eyes locked on yours as the words left his lips, the normally cocky smile he wore replaced by a small, genuine one. He started to stroke your cheek with his thumb, leaning down to capture your lips to seal the words in. “There will be other storms. But there’s only one you. I’m glad I was here to keep you safe.” The words were barely a whisper as he leaned his forehead against yours, a smile forming on your lips as you kissed him again.

There might be damage done by the storm and you would probably be cleaning up debris for a couple of months, if not longer. But, you had Tyler and he had you and both of you were safe. That was all that mattered as you cuddled up to him in the storm shelter and waited for the all clear, updates coming in from his guys as they chased the storm that came just a little too close to home this time.

Tag list: @mamachasesmayhem @paigewinchester67

[somethinginthewayiam]

The girl behind the bar (Part 6)

pairing: Jake Hangman Seresin x plus-size reader

warnings: body shaming, angst, hurtful language

words: 2.5k

Summary: After your kiss with Jake, you're nervous for the next time you would see him. When he came to the bar with some guys you've never seen before, things have changed between the two of you, but not the way you wanted them to...

a/n: This was hard to write. I don't know what else to say here other than I'm sorry!

Link to my masterlist

You had been nervous all day. From when you woke up in the morning, making yourself lunch at noon, going grocery shopping and getting ready for your shift.

It was the day after your kiss with Jake and the thought alone of possibly seeing him again tonight at the bar had you in a chokehold. Would it be different between the two of you? It had to be, right? But in what way?

You felt your hands getting sweaty again and quickly wiped them on your pants before you entered your workplace. It was an hour until the bar would open and you decided that work would be the best distraction.

You placed your belongings in Penny’s office like every day and got over to the storage room to grab a case of beer to restock the bar.

As you walked out of the little hallway and into the main bar room, you looked out of the big windows. The weather outside was sunny and warm, no indication of the storm that had raged outside and consequently trapped you and Hangman in here last night.

But inside, the candles on the bar counter and empty bottles of beer told you another story. The sight of last night’s remains stopped you in your tracks for a moment.

You carried the case of beer behind the bar and quickly put away the candles in a cabinet beneath the counter. Then you grabbed the empty bottles of beer and put them in the recycling bin. As you looked up, your eyes caught the sight of the table where Jake had put you on top of as you both had kissed.

The fact that you hadn’t given, him lifting you, a second thought was proof of how good the kiss actually was. Your fingers went up to touch your lips as they were tingling at the thought.

“Hello, darling”, Jimmy said as he entered the bar. “Hey Jimmy”, you said startled and quickly got back to tidying up. “Got home okay last night?”, you asked him as you wiped down the counter. “Sure did”, he told you. “I recon you two got home good as well?”, he asked and had a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Who two?”, Penny suddenly entered the bar as well. “Last night, I found Hangman and our Y/N here when I came by. Felt like I interrupted something”, he told her straight away with a wink.

“Jimmy!”, you called out surprised. “He didn’t interrupt anything. We were just here to check on the place like you asked”, you told your boss, feeling your cheeks heating up.

“I remember, I asked you to check on the place”, Penny crossed her arms and leaned against the bar counter with an amused smile. “Where did Jake come from?”, she added.

“He, uhm, he just happened to be at the diner I was at when you, uhm, you called me and he offered to drive me here”, you stammered your way through the sentence and rubbed your forehead. “Oh my, Y/N, don’t tell me you fell for a naval aviator?”, Jimmy joked and put his hands on his hips with a laugh as he watched you squirming in your spot.

“And Hangman of all people”, Penny said and looked at you with a little bit of concern.

“No, it’s not…we’re not…I’m…Hey, what is happening here?”, you asked confused and looked between Penny and Jimmy. “We’re just looking out for you, darling”, Jimmy said. “Yes, we just want you to be careful with him”, Penny added and it felt like you were talking to your parents all of a sudden.

“Nothing happened between me and Jake”, you told them. Apart from an amazing kiss and longing looks on your part before you got out of his car.

Jimmy and Penny kept looking at you with concern and almost a hint of pitty. “Stop it, you two!”, you called out and walked out from behind the bar. “I’m doing inventory”, you announced as you walked over to the door leading to the little hallway. “But we weren’t even open yesterday”, Penny replied and you could hear the smile in her voice. “I’m double-checking”, you countered and pushed the door open with your hands and a bright red face.

Jake and the others didn’t come in that night and you thought that Penny and Jimmy have had enough fun on your expense. But when Jake and some guys you hadn’t seen before, apart from Coyote, all in their khaki uniforms, came to the bar the following night, you could feel Penny’s and Jimmy’s eyes practically burning a hole in the back of your head.

When Jake entered the bar, you could feel his presence almost immediately, even though you were in the middle of taking orders. As you looked up, you saw him looking over the crowd of the bar, your eyes meeting for a mere second. And then him and his friends just walked straight over to the pool table, settling down in their corner.

You felt your heart beating a little faster now knowing that he was in your vicinity. It didn’t take long for Coyote to come over to the bar, ordering 4 beers for the little group. You would be lying if you said you weren’t a little disappointed that Jake didn’t come over to the bar himself, just to say hello.

You made small talk with Coyote as you opened the bottles and handed him his order.

You kept looking over to the pool table while you worked, ignoring the glances of Jimmy and Penny, who were also both working behind the counter as it was a busy night. At least, your two favorite regulars, Bert and Ping Pong, were in tonight, so you had two friendly faces in the crowd, taking your mind off of Hangman from time to time.

A little while later, you caught Coyote’s look and he motioned for another round. This was it, your chance to go over there in a natural way, deliver their order and maybe strike up a conversation with Jake.

You weaved your way through the crowd, balancing the four beers on your trey. “Here are you drinks, gentlemen”, you announced as you arrived at the pool table. “Thanks, Y/N”, Coyote said, the other two nodding at you as you handed them their drinks.

“Here’s your beer, Hangman”, you said as you held out his drink to him. Your heart started to beat a little faster. You smiled at him, expecting some kind of special interaction like a genuine smile, the exchange of a few words or at least a decent hello. But he barely looked at you when he grabbed his beer from your hand, seemingly trying his best not to touch your fingers.

He went straight back to the game of pool he was playing with the guys. You waited for a few seconds but no one said something, Jake didn’t even look at you.

When it got too awkward for you, you decided that you had embarrassed yourself enough and walked over to a different table, taking orders. You wished the ground would just open up and swallow you whole. So much for a reality check.

What the hell was wrong with him? He was acting like he didn’t know you at all, didn’t even speak to you. Even when you two practically hated each other, you exchanged some banter or at least some vulgarities. But now he didn’t even acknowledge your presence.

“Are you okay, Y/N?”, Penny asked and pulled you out of your thoughts. You were preparing drinks in autopilot-mode. “Yeah, I’m fine”, you said in a stone-cold tone. “Uh-oh”, Penny commented. “What happened?”, she added. “Nothing”, you replied. And that was the problem.

“You want to talk about it?”, she asked you and you shivered from the pitiful tone her voice was laced with. “No”, you answered.

“Who’s next?”, you quickly asked the customers in front of you before Penny could ask another question.

Later that night, you were clearing a table close to the pool table. Jake and his friends were still playing, not seeing you. You overheard Coyote talking to Jake about a girl that was seemingly flirting with him and he didn’t seem to care while you collected glasses off the empty table. The new guy joked that he probably didn’t want to make you mad as his source of drinks.

“What do you mean?”, Coyote asked instead of Jake. “The bartender clearly has a crush on Hangman. Looking over all the time, always needing to know where her Hangman is”, the guy rambled on, making sweet eyes at Hangman, clearly mocking you as he laughed.

Were you really looking over that often? Probably, but you didn’t think anyone had noticed. Jake certainly didn’t. But that guy didn’t know what had happened between Jake and you. But Jake did.

“Y/N?”, Jake asked while planning his next shot, almost sounding like he had never heard your name before. “Yeah, she likes you”, Coyote confirmed and from where you stood, you could see him wiggle his eyebrows at Hangman. “Everybody likes me, I’m fucking awesome”, Jake said and bent down to take a shot. You rolled your eyes in your little hiding spot. You knew you should just leave, but you couldn’t move.

“She certainly makes a big impression”, the guy said and the way he emphasized on the word big made you swallow hard. “She can be glad if you even look her way, man. Shit, she’s lucky if anyone looks her way”, the guy continued. Jake came around the pool table, thinking about his next shot. Unknowingly, he was standing pretty much in front of you, his back turned your way, only a person standing between the two of you that was scrolling on their phone.

“I don’t know what she’s hoping for. It’s not like he’s gonna hook up with her”, the guy contemplated out loud. “No way! Seresin doesn’t do fatties”, the other guy said with a chuckle. His comment felt like a punch to the gut. You started to feel sick but you still couldn’t manage to walk away.

“She’s just the girl behind the bar, nothing more”, Hangman finally said something, but not in the way you had hoped. “Not my type”, he said dryly as he bent down to take his next shot. And another punch to the gut.

His eyes watched the targeted ball falling into the desired pocket hole. “But she’s cute when she tries”, Jake added with a cocky chuckle as he stood up again, looking at the table in front of him. That’s how he didn’t notice the person standing between the two of you walking away and you had clear view of his back.

Coyote, who was standing across from Hangman noticed you and the smile dropped from his face. “Hangman”, he fake-coughed and nodded in your direction. Jake turned around and as soon as he saw you standing there, his smile dropped from his face. It was clear from the expression on your face that you had heard every word that had been spoken between the four guys. You felt the tears rushing to your eyes, starting to restrict your view.

You stood there with the full trey in your hands and didn’t know what to do or say. Jake’s mouth opened and then closed again.

Like someone had snapped you back to reality, you turned around and walked back to the bar counter as fast as the trey full of glasses in your hands allowed you. Just as you put them down in the spot for the dirty dishes, Jake arrived at the counter.

“Y/N, hey, come on”, he said and rested his hands on the bar top, supporting his weight. “Oh, so you can talk to me”, you threw at him as you turned around and looked at him. “We’re just talking between men, a little ego talk, don’t make such a big deal out of it”, he told you. He really had the nerve to not only not apologize to you about what had happened, he even tried to make you feel bad about your reaction. The gutting feeling you had experienced before turned into anger.

Penny was just about to hand Ping Pong his drink, when you snatched it out of her hand and threw the liquid into Jake’s face.

“Oh, I hope I didn’t leave a big dent in your ego just now. You know, because of my big impression”, you said in a mocking tone. You slammed the glass down on the bar and loosened the knot on your apron, ripping it off your hips. “I’m taking my ten”, you announced towards Penny, who was standing next to you, watching the scene that had just unfolded in front of her. “You can take that out of my paycheck”, you told her before you made your way towards the storage room. “I’m sure he deserved it”, you heard her say before you walked around the counter.

“Y/N”, Jake called out once again. “God, what’s her problem?”, he huffed out, talking to himself out loud. He grabbed some napkins that were placed on the counter and wiped his face dry. “I think I’m looking at it”, Penny said and gave Hangman a stern look.

“She’s just overreacting”, Jake said as he looked at the door you had just left through. “In all the weeks I’ve come to known Y/N I know one thing for certain. She’s not someone to overreact”, Penny lectured him while preparing Ping Pong a new drink. “She is…”, Jake started but got interrupted.

“You better choose your next words very carefully, son”, Ping Pong warned Hangman. “From one naval aviator to the other, this is the moment where you punch out ‘cause your jet’s taking a dive”, Bert added and took a sip of his drink.

Hangman looked at the two retired aviators irritated as he didn’t know about your connection to these men.

“Hangman!”, Coyote shouted from the pool table. Hangman wanted to say something but then he just shook his head, turned around and walked back over to his friends.

Penny looked over to the door to the little hallway, contemplating if she should go after you but you made it clear that you needed a moment alone and it was still too busy to leave Jimmy alone behind the bar.

Out of the corner of her eyes she saw Hangman and his friends leave. Not a minute later, you came back out, putting your apron on as you walked over and grabbed a trey off the counter without saying a word.

Penny and Jimmy exchanged a concerned look but didn’t say anything about Hangman or the drink throw for the rest of the night. Ping Pong and Bert left an extra big tip for you before they left.

Next chapter: Part 7

[resowrites]

A Wing and a Prayer - drabble.

Summary: Glen is less than impressed when he finds out what his girlfriend has been up to while he’s out of town…

Pairings: AU!Glen Powell x Reader/Unnamed!OC

Warnings: NSFW (not really but just to be safe), 18+ (slight sexy talk), drunkenness/partying/hangover, fluff, fake message style, established relationship, banter, language, use of pet name, hastily written/lightly proofread.

WC: <500

A/N: Hi folks I know it’s been a minute but work was slow this afternoon so I threw this together. This isn’t the first time I’ve written for Glen Powell as I put out a Top Gun oneshot forever ago, but the usual tags I write for are pretty dead these days so I thought I’d do something different. Tbh though you could probably insert anyone into this fic. Enjoy - R x

Remember, this is pure fiction (as in completely made up), and not in any way meant to reflect reality. My work must not be copied, reposted, or translated elsewhere. Gifs/pics not my own. Thanks for visiting.

A Wing and a Prayer - drabble.

To be updated on when I post please follow @resowrites and turn on post notifications.

[waywardnerd67]

Fireworks

Title: Fireworks Summary: When (Y/N)’s BFF invites her to a 4th of July party she would never imagine meeting the man of her dreams… literally. Main Characters: Glen Powell, Reader Pairing: Glen Powell x Reader Rating: E - Everyone Warnings: Fluffy/RPF Word Count: 5376 A/N: Jumping back into the saddle so please forgive all the rough edges.

“Honey, I’m home!”

(Y/N) looked up to see her best friend walking through her front door, “Addison! Why didn’t you tell me you were in town?”

She hugged her hard, missing her BFF more than she realized. A year ago, Addison got the opportunity of a lifetime to be the personal assistant to a Hollywood actor. She had been traveling the world, hanging out on movie sets and living her best life. Meanwhile, (Y/N) was still living in their hometown of Austin, Texas working at the same high school, in the same position for nearly a decade.

“I’m sorry, my boss has had me planning this big Fourth of July party and today is the first day I’ve had time to come see you.”

They both sat down on her couch as (Y/N) paused her millionth rewatch of Supernatural, “How are you planning a party here if he lives in L.A.?”

Addison smiled, “He recently moved back to Austin, so it looks like I will be coming back here as well.”

(Y/N) let out a squeal hugging her friend tightly, “Oh my god, that’s amazing! I mean I know you’re gonna be busy but damn will it be good to have you back here.”

For the next few hours they caught up on each other’s lives or lack of one for (Y/N). They ordered dinner and were getting ready to watch one of their favorite rom-coms when Addison’s phone rang.

“Hey boss, what’s up?”

(Y/N) watched her friend’s face light up and suddenly her body was filled with envy. She was incredibly proud of the life her friend created but it was a reminder of how boring of a life she had. She couldn’t even remember the last thing she had been excited for except for maybe the new Twisters movie coming out later in the month.

“You got it. I will confirm everything and send you an email update.” Addison paused listening, “Yes, I will make sure to bring someone with me. See you tomorrow.”

“From the look on your face I would say you love your job.” Addison nodded with a smile, “I really do. He’s great and nothing like the other Hollywood douchebags. He’s just a good ole Texas boy. Kind of reminds me of Jensen and Jared.”

(Y/N) remembered her best friend's time volunteering at Creation Entertainment Supernatural conventions. She eventually was one of the workers who helped walk the actors to and from ops. Several times she had walked with Jared Padalecki or (Y/N)’s favorite actor, Jensen Ackles. That was how she had met them and found out they were truly just as nice and humble as everyone said they were.

“He wants me to bring someone to his party. What do you say?”

“Me?” She stared at Addison, “Don’t you think you should bring someone more interesting or fun?”

Her friend slipped her arm around (Y/N)’s shoulders, “No. There’s no one else I would rather bring than my best friend. Plus, who knows, maybe you’ll meet someone there and hit it off.”

“Yeah. Right.” She scoffed, “The plain Jane school secretary hitting it off with some Hollywood hunk. This is reality and not fanfiction.”

“Please? For me? It would mean the world to me if you came and then I can finally introduce you to my boss.” Addison stuck out her bottom lip in a pout.

(Y/N) narrowed her eyes then smiled, “Fine. Only because I love you.”

“Yay! If you want we can go get you a swimsuit and a new outfit. On me, of course, as a thank you.”

“I’m immediately regretting this decision…” She groaned.

The next day, they spent the day going to lunch and shopping. After one crying session in a dressing room and a slight argument in front of a cashier, (Y/N) arrived back home with three bags worth of stuff. Addison had convinced her to buy a two piece swimsuit. She was always hyper aware of her body even after losing a lot of weight. She was still plus size with killer curves and she was proud of her body. Knowing she was going to be around beautiful actors and models made her notice every little imperfection she had. Staring at the dark green checkered pattern suit made her stomach churn.

“It will be fine, (Y/N). No one is going to notice you anyway.” She murmured to herself.

The morning of July 4th, Addison was at her apartment bright and early, “I’m sorry it’s so early on your day off. My boss wants me at his house early and I figured you wanted to ride over with me.”

(Y/N) yawned, “It’s fine. I have my Monster and should be some form of human like by the time we get there.”

Addison led her out to a brand new Jeep Wrangler that was the same orange as the Longhorns. They threw their stuff in the back and headed off onto highway 290 towards Dripping Springs.

“Please tell me this is his car and not yours.” (Y/N) said as Addison started laughing.

“Yes, it’s his. I still have old faithful who recently hit 200,000 miles and is still purring like a kitten.” Addison turned on her Spotify playlist, “He’s a big Longhorns fan so anything he can get in burnt orange he does.”

One thing (Y/N) loved about living in Austin was the scenery. It had been awhile since she had driven out to Hill Country. The last remaining bluebonnets were holding on strong from a late blooming season mixing with other wildflowers. She couldn’t help to notice they were headed the same direction as Family Business Brewery.

“If we’re going to Family Business and Jensen is going to be there then I need some notice to calm my inner fangirl.”

Addison shook her head, “No, he just lives near there. I know he invited Jensen and Jared’s families but I think they have a convention this weekend.”

(Y/N) let out a sigh of relief then continued to admire the scenery around her while they sang to their favorite songs. Soon they were pulling up to a newly built, gated home. The main house was a subtly modern farmhouse with a big wrap around porch. Addison parked in front of the three car garage behind the house and that’s when (Y/N) saw a beautiful red barn straight out of a western movie.

“Wow…” She said, grabbing her things and following her friend to the pool house.

“Make yourself at home, this is where I stay. It’s easier for me to be close by than to have my own place and worry about subletting it.”

(Y/N) found pictures of her best friend in various cities, countries with celebrities she admired. There were also plenty of pictures of them together throughout their friendship including childhood and being roommates at UT-Austin. She looked at one picture of Addison pulled into a big hug from Glen Powell.

“You’ve met Glen Powell and didn’t tell me!” (Y/N) smacked her BFF’s shoulder, “How dare you.”

Addison laughed, “He’s a sweetheart.”

“Talk about good ole Texas boy… by god not that I need another bow legged Texan to love, but whew!” (Y/N) fanned herself.

“Come on, help me organize the food and everything before my boss gets home.”

There were tables set up in the massive backyard with a food buffet large enough to feed an army. (Y/N) found herself enjoying helping Addison get everything ready. She was helping the DJ get set up in the barn when Addison called out to her.

“Hey, my boss is here. I’m going to the main house to help him with something then I’ll be back.”

“Got it boss lady!” (Y/N) laughed as her friend rolled her eyes.

She was putting the last touches of the Firecracker themed tables together when a low, raspy voice came from behind her.

“Nicely done. You must be Addison’s best friend.”

She turned around and froze, “Holy shit, you’re Glen Powell.”

He laughed holding out his hand to her, “Yes, but not the OG Glen. He’s in the house right now. You’re (Y/N), right? Addison talks about you all the time.”

She slipped her hand into his then flinched from the electric current running up her arm. From his wide green eyes, she assumed he felt it too.

“Uh, y-yeah that’s me. Um…” She swallowed hard, “Sorry, my inner fangirl is having a mild heart attack right now.”

His deep, rich laugh blanketed her body in warmth, “Well hopefully your inner fangirl won’t pass out. Calling 911 is not on my list today.”

“I promise, she’ll be fine. Still getting used to my BFF hanging out with celebrities, especially ones that I love.”

The bright smile on his face nearly melted her heart, “Awe, so you love me?”

“Uh… yes, I mean… yes I love your movies and you seem like a really great person.” (Y/N) mentally kicked herself.

Shut up. Stop talking you weirdo.

“Thanks, I try to be a good guy. Main reason why I moved back to Austin. Stay grounded in my home roots. Anyway, I’m looking forward to getting to know you. I better get back to the main house and see what kind of chaos my family is causing for Addison.”

“Oh, okay. Talk to you later.” (Y/N) watched as he walked out of the barn then finally let out a shaky breath.

She immediately went in search of her best friend, finding her near the buffet. She smacked her shoulder several times as Addison tried to defend herself with tongs.

“What the hell (Y/N)!”

“Why didn’t you tell me that Glen Powell was your boss?! A little warning would have been nice so I could prepare myself.”

Addison chuckled, “Damn, I missed you meeting him. I was hoping to see your face.”

She smacked her shoulder again, “Not funny. It was like the first time I met Jensen and my brain short circuited.”

Now Addison was nearly falling down laughing, “Did you word vomit all over him?”

“No! Though I did mention my inner fangirl having a heart attack. Also, the first thing out of my mouth was ‘Holy shit, you’re Glen Powell.”

“Oh my god!” Her friend was rolling in laughter, “God, I wish I had been there for that.”

“That’s it, I’m leaving. I’ve already embarrassed myself and who knows who else will be here for me to embarrass myself in front of.”

(Y/N) started to head towards the front of the house when Addison reached out grabbing her arm.

“Wait, wait. I’m sorry, I should have warned you. Glen only invited a few actors that live around here over. Honestly, I think Zac Levi is the only one confirmed to be coming. Other than that, it’s mostly Glen’s family and friends.”

“Zac Levi?” She stared at her, “Zachary fucking Levi… oh god, I’m out. Me and my inner fangirl cannot handle this.”

Addison ran in front of her, grabbing a hold of her shoulders, “(Y/N), they are just humans like you and me.”

“Humans that are sculpted out of marble by the good lord himself with a good heaping pile of sex god appeal. Not like me. They’re main character energy and I’m one of the background people no one sees.”

“(Y/N) stop. Trust me, stay and hang out with me. Glen said once everything was set up that I was off the rest of the night. That means, it’s you and me hanging out by the pool, eating our weight in BBQ and watching fireworks. With some particularly good eye candy around.”

Addison was looking at her with pleading eyes, “Please stay and find out for yourself that they are normal dudes. Just like when we hung out with Jared and Jensen.”

(Y/N) sighed, “Only because I love you more than life itself and I have no way of getting home.”

Addison pulled her into a hug, “Thank you.”

“Group hug? I want to join!” Before (Y/N) could look up, she was sandwiched between her best friend and a firm body behind her. Instantly she was enveloped in a woodsy smell with a hint of citrus. Glen squeezed them together making both girls laugh.

“Can’t… breathe… Powell.” Addison managed to squeak out as he let go of them.

“Sorry, just wanted to be a part of your little moment.” He joked.

(Y/N) turned around sucking in a breath and trying to keep her jaw from slacking. Standing before her was the most beautiful man she had ever seen. Which said a lot since up until that point it had been Jensen Ackles who was the most beautiful man in her mind. Glen was wearing a pair of swim trunks with firecrackers all over them that hung low on his hips. His golden skin was glowing beneath the Texas sun and on top of his golden hair was an American flag cowboy hat.

“Ladies, I believe everything is set up and our first wave of guests have arrived. That means, Addison, you are officially off the clock and my last request is for you both to have a great time tonight.”

They looked at one another then saluted Glen saying together, “Yes sir.”

His laughter filled the air, “Your salutes need some work but we can work on that later. Now, go! Get drunk, eat and have fun.”

Addison hooked her arm with (Y/N)’s and they headed back towards the pool. For the first couple of hours, (Y/N) laid out on one of the chairs by the pool. One of the only things she loved about parties was people watching. There was no shortage of people to watch here. Glen’s family was an absolute joy to meet. Currently, his dad was in the pool playing with his grandkids while his mom was sitting on the edge hanging her feet into the water.

(Y/N) watched as Zac Levi walked through the main house with a cooler and a few of his friends. She was surprised to see him pull Addison into a hug then kiss her cheek. She made a mental note to ask her what was up with that later. Sipping on her beer, she watched as a group of guys including Glen and Zac started a game of football. Addison was talking with Glen’s sisters when suddenly there was a shout.

“Watch out!”

Before (Y/N) could look up, she was hit with something hard in her chest. She let out a loud grunt and her beer dumped down the front of her.

“Shit! (Y/N) are you alright?” Glen asked as he and Addison ran up to her.

She groaned, “Fine, just covered in beer.”

“I can show you where you clean up.” Glen said, taking the football that had hit her and tossing it to his brother-in-law.

He held out his hand to her and helped her up from her seat. She looked back at Addison who was smiling like the Cheshire cat. She narrowed her eyes at her friend suddenly smelling a set up and beer… lots of beer.

Glen led her into the main house and up the stairs. They walked into the largest bedroom she had ever seen and immediately knew this had to be his room.

“You can use my bathroom to wash up and I’ll get you some clothes to wear.”

She chuckled, “Um, I’m pretty sure your clothes won’t fit me.”

He arched an eyebrow at her, “I’m sure I can find something or if you prefer to walk around in a towel only then that’s cool too.”

“No! Oh god, no.” She sighed, “Thank you. I appreciate anything you can find for me.”

“You’re welcome.” He walked into his large closet while she went into his master bathroom and shut the door.

Leaning against it, she took a moment to calm her frantic nerves. A week ago, she was home rewatching Top Gun: Maverick and now she was standing in Glen Powell’s bathroom. Quickly, she stripped out of her soiled clothes and swimsuit. She turned on the water of the massive shower and let the hot water beat down on her tense muscles. She heard the door opening and immediately tried to cover herself.

“There’s clothes on my bed for you.”

(Y/N) noticed he had his hand covering his eyes even though he couldn’t see her from where the door was. Her heart skipped from the small gesture.

“T-Thank you. I’ll be back out in a few minutes.”

“Take your time.” He closed the door.

(Y/N) noticed his shampoo was the citrus she had smelled earlier while his body wash was the woods smell. She decided that combination was her new favorite smell. Once she was out of the shower and wrapped in one of his towels she walked out to find his door closed. On the bed was an extra large Longhorns t-shirt and gym shorts. There was also a pair of black Calvin Klein boxer-briefs which she was thankful for. However, not having a bra to wear was going to be difficult.

She stepped into his closet and chuckled from all the burnt orange shirts. She found one of his tank tops and slipped it on. She rolled the bottom up beneath her breasts and tied it off with her ponytail. The girls would at least be secured but one good cool wind and her nipples would be on display.

“Maybe it’s time to step up to whiskey.” She muttered as she slipped on the rest of Glen’s clothes.

Opening the door, she found a muscular, tan back standing there like a bodyguard, “Sorry, I just didn’t want anyone walking in here on you. My family is not big on boundaries nor are my niece and nephew.”

She chuckled, “Thanks for keeping watch and for the clothes.”

He turned around and she watched as his eyes traveled the length of her body. Goosebumps spread across her flushed skin. When his eyes came back up to hers they were darker and filled with something that she refused to let herself believe was there.

“Have to say, those look way better on you than on me.”

(Y/N)’s default mode clicked on whenever she received compliments, “I highly doubt that, but thanks. They’re at least more comfortable than my swimsuit. By the way, do you have somewhere I could wash my clothes out?”

“Yeah, give them to me and I’ll put them in the washer. You can head back out to enjoy the party.” She handed him her suit and clothes, “Man, I’m sorry I didn’t get to see you in this. I bet it looked great on you.”

He headed down the stairs leaving (Y/N) speechless. Was Glen Powell flirting with her? No way. She was delusional from the alcohol and sun. She headed back outside where she found Addison swimming in the pool with Zac. Seeing them together, she knew she didn’t need to ask if they were together. It was obvious by the way they looked at one another that they were. Once again, (Y/N)’s green eyed monster raged inside of her. Deciding she needed some more time alone, she headed out towards the barn then kept walking to the field behind it.

She was watching a team of guys setting up fireworks for the big display later that night. She could still hear everyone laughing and having fun behind her, suddenly she felt tears falling down her cheeks. She loved her best friend, but it was obvious she didn’t fit into her life anymore. She was hanging out and dating celebrities and traveling the world.

What was she doing? Still working the same job and never allowing anyone to get close to her. She gave up on dating after her one and only boyfriend had cheated on her. Did she want someone in her life? The family and white picket fence? Of course, but the closer to forty she was getting the further away that dream seemed to be getting. Seeing how happy Addison was and how wonderful her life was a harsh reminder of how meaningless her own life was.

“You okay?”

Turning around, she found Glen walking up now wearing a navy tank top and his dark Ray Bans covering his eyes. She quickly wiped away the wayward tears.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just needed a moment.”

He leaned his forearms against the fence, looking out over the field, “I see you found my ‘I need a moment’ spot. I love coming out here and just being. I don’t have to be actor Glen, but just me.”

“I bet that is exhausting.” He nodded as she looked at him from the corner of her eyes, “On behalf of fans everywhere, I appreciate all the hard work you put into your characters. I can’t tell you the number of nights I have watched one of your rom-coms laughing and making my day better.”

He looked down at her with a smile, “Thanks, that means a hell of a lot to me.”

“However, I have to say, I wish they would pair you up with a woman your age. Seeing you make out with a woman ten years younger gives girls like me a complex.” She chuckled.

“How so?” He asked, turning towards her.

She sighed, “You never see a leading woman that is both older and doesn’t have a model’s body. The average size of a woman is 14/16 which is plus size and if I had to guess I bet the majority of rom-com audience is like me. A woman in her late thirties, plus size, single and looking for hope that men like Glen Powell would be interested in her.”

“You don’t think guys like me would be with a woman like you?”

His question was genuine, but made her scoff, “In the movies they aren’t. Why would I believe that in real life? Probably why I’ve been single for over a decade now. It’s easier to fantasize over fictional men or celebrities than putting myself out there to get humiliated.”

He stepped closer to her, his fingers brushing against her cheek and tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. He pushed his sunglasses up on top of his head and his glossy eyes were staring down into hers. She had dreamt of him looking at her in this very way a million times. The way he looked at every leading lady in one of his rom-coms.

“What if I told you that I do find you attractive? That I find you incredibly sexy.”

“I’d say that you’re a great actor.” She tried to look away, but he gently grabbed her chin making her look at him.

“I’m not acting. The moment Addison showed me a picture of the two of you, I thought you were the most gorgeous woman I’d ever seen. The way she gushes about you and all the work you do for your students. The difference you’re making in their lives. I couldn’t imagine anything more sexy than a woman who loves to help those who need it.”

(Y/N) stepped away from him, “It’s really nothing special. Yes, I’m there for them and help them in any way I can, but so do a lot of staff. Honestly, there’s nothing special about me. I’m definitely not gorgeous. I mean, you’re around beautiful actresses and models all the time. They’re gorgeous, me not so much.”

“Addison warned me that you usually put yourself down when you receive compliments.” He took a step towards her engaging in an awkward dance as she stepped backwards.

“Warned you? So, this was a set up?” (Y/N) rolled her eyes, “Did she really think you were going to magically fall in love with me and sweep me off my feet. Which by the way, you couldn’t, not literally anyway.”

“I asked her to introduce us. Yes, I found you attractive and after hearing Addison talk about you non-stop in Oklahoma, I wanted to meet you. Addison is not only my assistant but a dear friend and if you’re important to her then you’re important to me as well.”

He closed the distance between them pressing her back against the fence and caging her in with his strong arms on either side of her. He leaned in towards her and she sucked in a breath, holding it in her chest.

“I wasn’t hoping to fall in love or sweep you off your feet. Which I could totally do.” He smirked, “I was hoping to meet the amazing woman Addison loves so much and who happens to be fucking gorgeous.”

“Glen, I…” She let out a trembling breath, “I'm nobody and I don’t do one night stands. Even if it’s with a sexy movie star that I’m sure would give me the orgasm of my life. It’s not me and I don’t see you wanting to settle down with a high school secretary.”

He leaned closer to her. His nose brushing alongside hers and his lips merely an inch from hers. She wanted to look away, but his eyes were mesmerizing.

“Won’t know unless you give me a chance.”

His lips pressed against hers. They were soft and tasted of tequila as he pulled her bottom lips between his teeth. Suddenly, her body felt like it was on fire and she wanted more. Needed more. His large hands fell to her hips and pulled her tighter against him. (Y/N) wrapped her arms around his neck, pushing her hands into his soft hair. His sunglasses falling from his head was enough to knock her senses back into place. She pressed her hands against his chest, pushing him gently away.

“We… I… this can’t happen. It’s not happening.” She stammered.

(Y/N) took off back towards the barn as Glen called after her, “(Y/N)! (Y/N), please wait!”

She didn’t stop until she was in the pool house and in Addison’s room with the door shut. Tears immediately sprung to her eyes and she sank to the floor beside her bed. What the hell was she doing? Glen Powell had kissed her. Told her she was gorgeous and yet she was sitting on the floor crying. Why couldn’t she be more impulsive and have one night with a man who was way out of her league? Looking at her reflection in the glass from the sliding door, she sighed.

“Because you catch feelings, (Y/N).” She whispered.

“(Y/N)?” Addison’s voice came through the door, “You alright?”

She opened the door, “Seriously, Glen Powell?”

“Let me explain.”

“Addison, what did you think was going to happen? You couldn’t actually believe this was going to work in any sort of way.”

They sat down on her bed, “I talk about you non-stop with him. I’ve told him all your stories from school with your kiddos. I’ve told him how I’m worried about you being alone all the time and how I wish you could meet a nice guy like him. How proud I am of all you’ve done for your health and how you love your body for what it is.”

(Y/N) placed her head in her hands, “And what, he was like ‘oh I want to meet this chick’?”

“Not his exact words, but yes. When he started planning this party, he asked if there was anyone I would like to invite. I told him Zac and his friends…” She paused looking at her bashfully, “Yeah, I’m kind of seeing Zac Levi.”

“No shit, Sherlock. I could tell that from the lovey-dovey looks you give one another. After my breakdown you can spill all about how that happened.”

Addison nodded, “Anyway, Glen asked if I wanted to invite you. I told him that you’re pretty introverted and didn’t like going to parties. He dropped it, but then when he was having me finalize the list of people I noticed he had added your name at the end of the list. When I asked him about it, all he said was he wanted to meet the amazing best friend I kept talking about.”

“So, you decided to turn it into a set up? Knowing full and well I would never fall for it.”

Her friend turned towards her, “It was never a set up. I warned him how you are. I asked him directly what he was up to. He told me that he found you attractive and wanted to get to know you.” She grabbed her hands, “Honestly (Y/N), I think he’s just a dude who is nervous to ask out a beautiful girl. It’s hard for him to meet anyone who doesn’t see him as only a famous actor and I really think he wants this part of his life to be as normal as possible.”

(Y/N) groaned, “You know this sounds like a fanfic I would read on Tumblr, right?”

Addison laughed, “Oh I’m well aware. However, doesn’t it make you want to see what happens? Usually, the next part would be you going to find him and you two would have a moment of tension that snaps. Then wham, bam, smutty dreams fulfilled.”

“I think I’m going to throw up.” (Y/N) took a couple deep breaths.

“That is not usually in the fanfics. Take the time you need, but please come back out and hang out with us. If anything, I’ll introduce you to Zac and you can fangirl over him.”

“I love you, but get out. I can’t even with you right now.” (Y/N) laughed as Addison hugged her.

Once she was alone again, (Y/N) went into the bathroom to splash cool water on her face. Looking into the mirror, she gave herself a once over. She walked out into the bedroom letting out a surprise yelp when she found Glen sitting on the bed.

“Scared the crap out of me.” She held her chest.

His eyes were focused on the floor, “Sorry. Addison said you were in here.” He stretched his long fingers out over his thighs before looking up at her.

“I wanted to apologize for coming onto you so strong and kissing you. I should have been more of a gentleman about it, not that I regret kissing you because I don’t.”

She sat down next to him, “I don’t either and you don’t need to apologize. It was nice to know I remembered how to kiss a man.”

He chuckled finally looking over at her, “It’s like I’m living out a meet-cute rom-com without a script and it’s terrifying. There’s a fine line between endearing and creepy. I feel like I’m crossing the line into creepy.”

(Y/N)’s hand was trembling but she placed it over his, “You’re not creepy. Addison told me about how you wanted to get to know me. I think it’s been so long since a man has shown any interest in me that I don’t know how to react to it. Let alone that man being someone I have fantasized about being the Leading Man in my own life.”

“Is there any way we could start over? You being you and me being just a normal dude wanting to ask you out?” He laced their fingers together, “Or at least ask you to watch fireworks with me?”

(Y/N) smiled, “I would love to watch fireworks with you… what was your name again?”

His breathtaking smile appeared as he stood up in front of her, “Hi, I’m Glen and you?”

She took his outstretched hand, standing up, “(Y/N), it’s nice to meet you totally normal dude who is definitely not a famous sexy actor.”

He laughed pulling her into his side slipping his arm around her shoulders, “That’s me. Normal dude who is thankful to have a chance to be in the presence of a beautiful woman.”

“Oh jeez, please stop with the compliments. They make me uncomfortable.” She sighed, sliding her arm around his waist.

-----

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[seresinhangmanjake]

Only For You

Thorn x female!reader

Summary: Thorn hides a huge part of his life from you and he's constantly leaving for long periods of time. You're not sure you'll ever know all of his secrets, but you know you're tired of saying goodbye.

Notes/warnings: angsty/fluffy, but nothing else really. mistakes, I'm sure. I did my best.

Words: 1354

---

“Going where?” you ask, rubbing your hands up and down your arms to shield your bare skin from the cold. He shrugs out of his nylon, sorry-excuse-for-a-coat and wraps it around your shoulders, but it’s a useless effort. In a thin t-shirt, he’ll be frozen in no time and you’ll be left to trade the coat back and forth as he stands on your front porch in the winter’s stinging air. 

His hands slide into his jeans front pockets. “I can’t tell you.”

“For how long?”

“I don’t know.”

With a huff, you ask, “What do you know, Thorn?”

He flinches. A hand comes out of his pocket to run over his buzzed hair. You can’t count how many times you’ve asked him these questions, and you kick yourself for bothering when the answers have not once strayed from their cookie-cutter precision. He never knows. Or he does and refuses to tell you. Wherever the truth lies, it doesn’t make its way to you. But the hurt in his mossy-green eyes is not for the secrets. It’s not for the disappearing act he forces you through. It’s reserved solely for the brand new weariness in your tone. 

This is not what you do. Your pattern with him has been consistent from the beginning. A month after he first kissed you, three weeks after you first slept together, you received the same pieced-together speech: ‘I have to leave. I can’t tell you why. I don’t know for how long.’ And you provided the same response you always do; a response you weren’t aware at the time would be commonly leaving your mouth; a response he’s not once requested, but with every feature of his face, pleads for: ‘I’ll be here when you get back’. Then he smiles, as always, and kisses you, and you pull him into your bed only for him to be gone by the time you wake. 

But you just broke the pattern with that tone of yours. It’s less welcoming, offering inadequate reassurance that when he knocks on your door in one or two or three months it’ll open. 

Thorn swallows hard as he fidgets in place, and you feel tendrils of guilt spread throughout your system. Thorn doesn’t fidget. Fidgeting means nerves. Nerves mean anxiety. And anxiety is not a well-worn jacket on the man who weaseled his way into your heart. It doesn’t fit. That jacket isn’t made in his size and it feels no different than when a toddler is squeezed into an outfit their parents refuse to accept they’ve grown out of. 

“What I know is that I want to come back to you,” he says. A beat passes and the cloud of nervous energy is shoved aside, likely a required skill for whatever the hell he does when he leaves you. He steps closer. Your heart beats harder. “I will walk up here and knock on this door and wait for you to let me in. Like I always do.”

Lips parting, you sink further into the scent of cologne that long ago seeped into the interior fibers of his coat. It’s an instinctual comfort while everything inside of your body fights your mind.

Fingers twitch to reach out and jerk him inside, but if you do that there’s no chance you’ll resist him; no chance you will even make it to your bed. With one foot through the door, he’ll have you against the wall or on the floor with the hallway runner serving as the only barrier between your back and the chill of the hardwood. With his tongue on your neck, you will forget how tired you are of his rollercoastering in and out of your life. His fingers digging into your flesh will crack your icy determination to no longer miss him until it’s a melted puddle beneath you. His cock deep inside of you will demand you let go of letting him go. 

Well, it’ll demand you let go of considering letting him go. It’s not what you want. If you had your pick of clichéd happy endings, your wicked-smart, tattooed-up, former—you question—criminal would settle in with you. But, no matter how hard you try, you can’t form that image in your mind. Thorn with a ring on his finger, you with his baby growing in your belly, a house you can share—if that exists somewhere, you’re losing hope that it’s on your timeline. 

“Thorn, how long is this going to last?”

“I told you, I don’t—”

“No,” you interrupt with a shake of your head. “Not just this time. All of it. When does it stop? When do you stay?”

His shoulders slump the slightest with his heavy sigh. “Sweetness, I made promises. I’ve got people relying on me.”

“And what about me? What am I supposed to do?” you ask, praying the struggle of holding back your tears has slipped under his radar despite that not being a possibility before. The only tears Thorn doesn’t catch are the ones he isn’t around to witness. “What if I left you all the time for reasons I refused to tell you about? You couldn’t find me, you couldn’t contact me, you didn’t know if I was safe, you wouldn’t be able to sleep wondering if I might be dea—”

“Stop!” he snaps, then quieter, repeats, “Stop.” His eyes fall from yours to the stone of your porch and enough seconds pass that there’s an awkwardness to the silence. “I would lose my mind if it was you, Ok?” he says, connecting to your stare. “I’d go fucking crazy.”

“And somehow you expect me not to.”

His hands move to cup your face, thumbs stroking back and forth over your cheekbones. “I don’t expect anything of you, sweetness. I can't, because it wouldn't be fair. But it doesn't change the truth that you don’t leave my thoughts. When I'm gone, every free second I have is spent thinking about coming home to you.”

Except coming home often means adding to your worries. There’s not one instance in the time you’ve known him that he has returned to you without bruises at every stage of healing scattered across his body. But you don’t speak of them. Neither do you speak of the split lip, cut eyebrow, sliced skin, and the worst of them: the hole in his arm that was shoddily stitched up, leaving a permanent reminder of the secret life he keeps from you. 

Often, when he is asleep, you run your finger over the raised skin, simultaneously thankful that he made it back from such an ordeal and cursing that he left to begin with. Then, from the twisted mess those feelings cause in your head, you find that your pain at seeing him hurt always develops a branch of anger.

Despite all of the blows you know he takes, you're not quick enough to stop yourself from throwing one of your own. “Assuming you’ll be able to come home at all…right?” 

His eyes widen before they squeeze shut. Sharp jawline sharpens more as teeth clench. Thorn takes a deep breath, then proves that his forehead resting against yours is all it takes for your anger to fizzle. 

Wrapping your hands around his wrists, you finally allow the tears to spill. They pour with abandon, overwhelming you the way a tidal wave might overtake a small ship in its ocean.

“I know whatever you do is stupidly dangerous,” pushes through your sudden sobs and sniffles. 

“That’s why I don’t tell you what it is,” he whispers as his nose nudges yours. “But I’m careful, sweetness. I’m careful because of you.”

Your lips freeze from the tears that reach them. The salty liquid under the chilled air bleeds away all moisture until his mouth claims a kiss. Not soft, not sweet, but beautifully burning. And from that burn, you find your calm. From familiarity, you find peace. From him, you find home. 

When you separate, your breaths form a puff of heat that shoves away the cold. “I won’t let you down,” he promises. “And I’ll be back before you know it.”

---

A/N: there is very likely going to be a part 2 to this, assuming people would want to read it.

tags: @wkndwlff @blackwidownat2814 @kmc1989 @sagittarius-flowerchild @dempy @oliviah-25 @rosiahills22 @xoxabs88xox @matisse556 @hardballoonlove @ssa-sadboi @lynnevanss @pono-pura-vida @tgmreader @amgluvsbooks @ravenhood2792 @djs8891 @shakespeareanwannabe @sailor-aviator @penguin876 @tgmavericklover @athenabarnes @emilyoflanternhill @wretchedmo @mamachasesmayhem @shanimallina87 @crowsreadsarahjmaas @sky2nd @jessicab1991 @rosedurin @averyhotchner @horseshoegirl

[harrysfolklore]

hear me out… glen powell fics 👀

[that-one-random-writer]

Rowdy Romance

Masterlist | A Southern Jake Series Here

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x (Southern!F)Reader

Part 2

Summary: You are visiting with a friend and find yourself alone in the Hard Deck. You're both what he was expecting and not.

Warnings: Cursing, flirting, mentions of shotgun, bull riding, and one hunting reference to killing and preparing a deer. Word count: 1,291

The Hard Deck was full. The sun had dipped down below the water line. Your vacation had slowed down. Your friend had made plans with her husband. She was visiting while her husband was stateside.

He had been on deployment for the last year. You had come with her for moral support when you both would have to leave without him.

You found yourself at the beach during the day and spending your nights out sight seeing alone. You can't blame her for spending all her time with her husband.

The couple had just a few more months until he would be back home before being restationed. You weren't excited because she would be moving back out to wherever he was stationed, but at the same time you are excited for her.

You found yourself at the bar that all the locals raved about. Each store owner, that you had spoke to that day, all said that Friday nights were spent at the hard deck. You were at the bar sitting in one of the bar stools. A few locals, and khaki uniformed men had offered you a drink.

There was no interest. Daddy had always said "if he can't skin a deer then how is he gonna feed you when the government crumbles?" Old Southerners still remember the great depression and hold the doomsday prepping dear to their hearts.

You had noticed the sign and kept your phone off the bar. It laid in your back pocket of your dazzled jeans. They had rhinestones in the shape of bull heads. You had an old, tight wife beater top on that cropped a little above your belly button. You looked very out of place in San Diego. You caught a few eyes for that very reason.

The next pair to land on you leaned his arm against the wood beam. "You're from my neck of the woods. Miss, How'd you find yourself up here in California?" His drawl thick.

Your eyes caught sight of the mystery man looking up slowly. His khaki uniform definitely added a nice touch to the voice he carried. "I'm here for a friend of mine." You didn't go into too much detail.

"Well I'll have to thank your friend for sending an angel my way. Can I buy you a round as a welcome to California?" You smiled softly. "Jack on the rock." He smirked. "Your daddy must carry a shot gun wherever he goes for an order like that." He chuckled. "Yes sir, it's on the rack in his truck, or in his hands."

"Penny, can I get two jack on the rocks please?" She smiled. "Sure thing, hangman" your lips curl up. "Hangman... is that what your called round here" His classic smirk finds it's way toward you. "Yes ma'am. That's my call sign."

A small giggle erupts. "I'm not even gonna ask." His smirk still showing. "It's better that you dont." You break the touch barrier slapping his arm softly. "Honey don't say that. You'll make me want to know." Your Laughs strike between your words.

He grabs the two glasses from Penny. "Thank you, Miss Penny." You call out as she goes to the next customer. She smiles and waves as a you're welcome. "Come on, we're gonna go out by the beach." You follow him.

"I told you not to bet him dumbass." Pheonix chuckled at coyote. "Rooster had spent five minutes trying to serenade her, and the new guy tried buying her a drink too." Pheonix popped up. "Thanks for the piña coloda, FNG" pointing to the Fucking New Guy. Coyote continued. "She had walls up to the roof. There's no way he could have got her in 5 minutes flat."

Pheonix laughed resting her chin on her knuckles. "He just did." She scrunched her nose up. "He is an asshole but he is good at picking up women." She flicked a straw wrapper at Rooster chuckling at him. They all began playing pool, and the guys keeping a check on hangman judging his game, making bets on if you would end up going home with him by the end of the night.

Your eyes followed the shoreline, meeting up to the stars. Lights lined the edge of the patio. You stood at the rail leaning in to smell the saltwater, and hear the waves crashing. "Your Jack." He handed your drink to you. "So you know my name, what's yours?" You took a sip of your drink, and tell him your name. "But you can call me, Minnie. That's what they call me back home." You smile brightly.

"Where does that come from?" He leaned against the rail next to you. "Oh no no, if you want to know mine then you have to tell me yours, hangman." Eyebrow arched searching his eyes for a back story. He chuckled and flashed a genuine smile. "Well, I'm a pilot and we get call signs. They call me Hangman, but the 'a's are blank so you can fill them how you like. Thats how I got it." He looked down finishing the innuendo. You laugh wickedly.

"Hungman, How many California girls has that really worked on? How did you actually get that name?" His head shook, chuckling. "Okay, okay, my friends say I hang them out to dry in the sky. They are exaggerating, they're fine. I got their backs. What about you, Minnie?" He looks out to the ocean then back to your eyes.

"My family owns a farms in Texas. When I was about three, I walked around the farm in nothing but a diaper and Minnie hat. They called me 'Minnie', and it stuck." You giggled at the memories of the picture with chickens crowding around you with your Minnie hat on. "Texas? You around the Rusk area?" You nodded. "We're out in Lufkin."

"No way, my family has a pretty big cattle ranch out in Rusk. Small world." Your eyes widen. "The Seresin cattle ranch?" He almost spits out the sip he had just taken. "Umm," he chuckled through the next few words. "Yeah, that's it." He met your eyes again. "My family moved their farm to Lufkin about six years ago, we go to the rodeos and see your family there every year. I've been bucked off jóse a few times. We have had dinner over at their house. They mentioned they had a son in the navy. I'm guessing your Jake..." You trail your words.

"That's me." He chuckles, thinking about you riding on Jóse the bull. "Your momma is so proud of you. Your daddy is too." You smile thinking about how much his momma had to say about her baby jake. "She never got around to show me a picture, but she was very adamant that you are handsome and single." You took your stare back to the water to keep the burn of the cheeks down. "One of them is right.. " You trailed.

He placed a hand at the small of your back leaning against the rail with his other arm. Your bare skin tingling where his hand was. "Both of them are." He smirked while glancing down your curves. "I'm guessing these California girls ain't amounting to what you thought they'd be." He spoke slowly while playing with the hem of your shirt. "No ma'am, they are not." Your eyes met his, and you rounded into his arms and placed your hand on his shoulder.

He leaned up, allowing him to pull you closer to him, his arms wrapped around you. Your southern drawl thickened. "Well, I guess you better find yourself a cowgirl." Your Eyebrow raised, and a smirk crossed your lips. "I think I found one."

No permissions to share the story as your own. Do not repost to any site. Don't steal from aspiring authors that makes you a 'C U Next Tuesday'!

[rootedinrevisions]

Worth More than Gold

SUMMARY: Glen Powell has asked you, his long-time friend and secret crush to be his date to the Golden Globes. The evening is filled with glitz, glamour, and the intoxicating spark of possibilities - both on the red carpet and behind the scene. And at the end of the day Glen may not have won the Golden Globe, but he just might have won something better—you.

A/N: Glen's look at the Golden Globes did things to me and gave me so many ideas. This will probably be the last fic I do for the GG and I'm going to try to get back on track with my WIPs and Requests.

As always I'd love to hear what you guys think! I love seeing your comments and reblogs! I seriously smile and get all giddy like a little kid when I get a notification from you guys so please let me know what I think.

WORD COUNT: 10.8k

TAGS: In Comments.

The hotel room was a whirlwind of chaos, a perfect reflection of Glen’s pre-event energy. The plush carpet was littered with tissue paper from a last-minute gift delivery, a shoe box sat abandoned near the bed, and the sleek black tie Glen had decided to forego tonight was somehow draped over a lampshade.

Glen himself was in the middle of the room, pacing in socks and dress pants, his phone pressed to his ear. “Listen, I’m just saying, Texas football isn’t a sport—it’s a religion,” he declared, his Texas drawl warming the edges of his words. “And if the Longhorns take the game against Ohio State this week, we’re coming for that national title.”

He paused, evidently listening to the journalist on the other end of the call, then grinned as he gestured animatedly with his free hand. “Yeah, yeah, I know you want to talk about the nomination. But did you see last weekend’s game? That last play in the second overtime?”

Across the room, you sat curled on the couch, scrolling through your phone but only half-paying attention to the screen. Watching Glen charm his way through an interview about his career or recent projects while managing to somehow steer the conversation to Texas football was nothing new.

“Cufflinks,” said Warren, the stylist ensuring Glen looked red-carpet ready. Warren stood to the side, arms crossed with the patience of someone who’d dealt with a dozen “Glen Powells” before.

“They’re in the pocket of your tux,” you called without looking up, your voice laced with playful exasperation. “Right where I told you I put them earlier.”

Glen froze mid-gesture, patting down his pants pocket first before moving to his jacket. When his fingers closed around the cufflinks, he shot you a sheepish grin. 

“You’re a lifesaver,” he mouthed, before turning his attention back to his call. “Listen, I gotta wrap this up. Can I call you tomorrow and we’ll finish this?” he asked the journalist.

With that, he hung up and turned to the room, raking a hand through his neatly-styled hair. “You believe this?” He said, grinning as he pocketed his phone. “I’m on deadline and trying to get out the door for one of the biggest nights of my life. And GQ wants to talk about…wardrobe and clothes and who I’m wearing.”

Warren arched a brow, adjusting the velvet Armani jacket on its hanger. “Wardrobe is why I’m here, Glen,” he said with a grin. “Now, if you could refrain from wrinkling this masterpiece, we might actually get you to the event looking like a winner.”

You snorted, rising from the couch. “Poor you,” you teased, brushing imaginary lint off your own shirt. “Must be so hard being adored by millions while wearing designer clothes.”

Glen rolled his eyes and snorted, stepping closer as the stylist fussed with his cummerbund. “Hey, I’m counting on you to keep me sane tonight,” he said, half-serious as he began to tug at the cuffs of his shirt. “You’re my buffer.”

“Buffer?” you repeated, arching a brow. “That’s what I’m here for? Not moral support—just as a human barrier between you and Hollywood?”

“Exactly,” he deadpanned, his grin widening. “You’re overqualified for the job, though.”

You stepped forward, brushing imaginary lint from his shirt, your fingers moving with practiced ease over the slick fabric. Glen watched you, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. 

“Okay, be honest,” he said, tilting his chin slightly. “One button or two undone? What’s the vibe tonight?”

You paused, letting your gaze drop to the open collar of his shirt, catching a glimpse of the chest hair peeking out.

“One,” you said decisively, reaching up to fasten the second button. “Two buttons undone is too much chest hair. You’re going to a red carpet, not auditioning for a ‘70s cop show.”

He laughed, the rich sound filling the room as he placed his hands on his hips. “Hey, my chest hair is a crowd-pleaser,” he countered, feigning offense. “You don’t know how many compliments I’ve gotten on this chest.”

You rolled your eyes, holding back a laugh. “Please never say that to me again.”

He leaned in slightly, his grin widening. “Admit it. You’re just jealous you can’t pull this off.”

You rolled your eyes, adjusting the collar of his shirt with a playful tug. “Oh, please. If I wanted to show off chest hair, I’d buy a faux-fur vest and call it a day.”

“Savage,” he said, clutching his chest as though you’d wounded him. “You’ve got jokes tonight, huh?”

“Somebody has to keep your ego in check,” you replied, stepping back to inspect your work. “And you make it so easy.”

Glen chuckled, shaking his head as he tugged at the cuffs of his shirt. “Well, I’ll have you know, Warren said I was rocking this look,” he said, gesturing toward the stylist, who was busy folding tissue paper into one of the garment bags.

Warren didn’t even look up. “Warren also said to stop touching your shirt or you’ll wrinkle it,” he replied dryly, earning a snort from you and an exaggerated groan from Glen.

“Fine,” Glen said, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “No more touching. But if I get to the carpet and I’m not turning heads, I’m blaming you.”

“Oh, you’ll turn heads,” you said, crossing your arms and giving him a once-over. “If not for the suit, then definitely for whatever ridiculous sound bite you give on the carpet. You’re physically incapable of being boring, remember?”

He grinned, stepping closer so the space between you was almost nonexistent. “Is that a compliment?” he asked, his voice dipping slightly.

You tilted your head, refusing to let him win. “Don’t get used to it, Cowboy.”

“Ah, there it is,” he said, leaning back with a laugh. “The nickname. I knew it was coming.”

You shrugged. “If the boots fit…”

Glen slid the custom velvet Armani tux jacket over his broad shoulders, the deep midnight-black fabric catching the light in subtle, luxurious waves. He tugged at the lapels, ensuring everything was sitting perfectly, before stepping back with an air of casual confidence.

“Well?” he asked, doing a quick spin on his heels, arms spread out theatrically. “What do you think? Too much? Not enough?”

You leaned back slightly, arms crossed, pretending to appraise him critically, but your expression betrayed you. Your eyes swept over him, taking in every detail—the sharp tailoring that hugged his frame perfectly, the structured cut of the jacket emphasizing his frame, and the way the silk shirt beneath hinted at the faintest trail of chest hair.

The stylist had done a remarkable job on his hair, taming the usual tousled locks into something sleek yet effortlessly natural. And the stubble—God, the stubble. He hadn’t bothered to shave completely, leaving just enough scruff to lend him a rugged edge that, if you were honest, made him look even more attractive.

The all-black ensemble was a bold choice, but it worked. The mix of textures—the smooth silk of the shirt, the luxurious velvet of the jacket, and the matte sheen of the tailored trousers—created a look that was polished yet unmistakably Glen.

“You clean up nice,” you finally said, a teasing smile pulling at your lips as you took him in from head to toe. “I mean, you almost look like a proper gentleman.”

“Almost?” he repeated, raising an eyebrow as he turned back toward the mirror, pretending to check himself out.

“Well, the stubble kind of ruins the whole gentleman thing,” you quipped, biting back a laugh.

“Ruin it?” Glen turned to face you again, his voice dripping with mock offense. “The stubble is the pièce de résistance, thank you very much.” He ran a hand over his jaw, grinning when he saw the way your gaze briefly followed the movement.

You rolled your eyes, trying to keep your composure. “Sure it is. But seriously, you look good, Glen. The best I’ve seen you look in a while.”

For a moment, his grin softened, and his eyes caught yours. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you replied, more sincerely this time. “You’re going to knock ‘em dead tonight.”

He held your gaze for a beat longer than usual, something unreadable flickering in his expression before he broke the moment with his signature charm. “Well, I have to. You’re the one who’ll have to be seen with me all night. Can’t embarrass you on your first red carpet.”

You glanced at the clock and froze. Less than an hour until you were supposed to be ready and out the door. Helping Glen finish getting ready had been fun—maybe a little too fun, you realized now, as time ticked away faster than you’d expected.

“I need to go get ready,” you said abruptly, stepping back and pointing toward the door.

Glen smirked, his hands casually adjusting the cuffs of his shirt. “Go on, Cinderella. Clock’s ticking.”

Without another word, you bolted for your room next door, already running through a mental checklist of what needed to happen to make yourself red carpet-ready in under an hour. Once inside, you kicked the door shut behind you and headed straight for the bathroom. Flicking on the light, you stared at your reflection in the mirror.

Okay. Hair. Makeup. Dress. You could do this. Right?

You pulled your hair loose from the lazy ponytail it had been in all day, raking your fingers through it and trying to decide if it would look better up or down. Your eyes darted to the neckline of the dress still hanging on the back of the closet door, but you didn’t have time to figure out how to make everything match. You groaned, pressing your hands to your face.

A sharp knock at the door interrupted your spiraling thoughts.

“Hello?” you called out, cautiously heading toward the door and cracking it open.

Standing there were two members of Glen’s glam squad—one holding a bag of makeup brushes and palettes, the other with a small suitcase of hair tools.

“Mr. Powell asked us to check on you,” the makeup artist said with a kind smile. “He thought you might be running behind.”

You blinked at them, momentarily speechless. “He... sent you?”

The hairstylist nodded. “He figured you might need a little help. Mind if we come in?”

You stepped aside to let them in, still processing Glen’s uncanny ability to predict you’d be panicking. “Sorry about the mess,” you admitted, glancing at the clock again. “I wasn’t expecting company.”

“Don’t worry,” the makeup artist said, already setting up her supplies on the bathroom counter. “We’ve got this. Can we see the dress? It’ll help us figure out the best look for you.”

You grabbed the garment bag from the closet and unzipped it, revealing the dress inside. You’d picked it out weeks ago, but standing there now, you suddenly second-guessed everything about it.

The hairstylist tilted his head thoughtfully, taking in the neckline and cut. “With this neckline, I’d suggest pulling your hair up—something elegant but not overdone. It’ll show off your shoulders and collarbone beautifully.”

You nodded, trusting his expertise. “That sounds perfect.”

“And for makeup,” the other stylist added, “we’ll keep it timeless—focus on your eyes, a little shimmer, and a soft lip. Nothing too bold, just enough to complement the dress and the hair.”

“Let’s do it,” you said, exhaling as you sat down.

With practiced efficiency, they got to work. The hairstylist began gathering your hair into an elegant style that framed your face while showcasing the neckline of the dress. Meanwhile, the makeup artist brushed soft gold tones onto your lids, added a touch of liner to define your eyes, and blended everything seamlessly. A quick swipe of lipstick finished the look.

You watched the transformation in the mirror, the tension slowly melting from your shoulders. By the time they stepped back to admire their handiwork, you felt like a completely different person.

“Done in thirty minutes, just like we promised,” the hairstylist said with a grin.

You stood, giving them both a grateful smile. “Thank you. Seriously, I wouldn’t have made it without you—or Glen, apparently.”

The makeup artist laughed. “He seemed pretty confident you’d need backup. Smart guy.”

“Yeah,” you said softly, thinking about his effortless charm and how much he looked out for you. “He really is.”

After the hairstylist and makeup artist left, you stood in front of the full-length mirror, a deep breath escaping your lips. You could do this.

You reached for the dress, still hanging from its garment bag, and carefully unzipped it. The soft fabric slid through your fingers as you pulled it off the hanger, feeling a flutter of nerves as you held it up in front of you.

The dress was simple, yet elegant, hugging every curve in a way that made you second-guess your choice. But it was beautiful.

With your heart racing a little, you slipped the dress on. You paused to glance at the mirror as you tugged the fabric up your body, hoping everything would fall into place.

But it didn’t.

The zipper snagged halfway up your lower back. You tugged a little harder, but it didn’t budge. Panic settled in your chest. You didn’t want to rip the fabric or make a scene, but there was no way to finish getting ready if you couldn’t zip the dress.

Your fingers fumbled for your phone, dialing Glen’s number before you could think twice. The seconds ticked by slowly, and your nerves only heightened with every ring.

“Hey, it’s me,” you said the moment he answered. Your voice trembled slightly despite your best efforts to sound calm. “I need help. The zipper on the dress is stuck, and I can’t get it up.”

“Don’t worry, I’m coming right over,” Glen’s voice was calm, reassuring. You could almost hear the smile in his tone.

The call ended quickly, and before you knew it, there was a soft knock at your door. You quickly pulled the front of the dress to your chest and peeked out, your eyes meeting Glen’s as you opened the door just a crack. His presence was as commanding as ever, but now, standing there, you felt exposed.

“Hey,” you greeted him, offering a sheepish smile.

“Hey,” he said softly, raising an eyebrow. “Need a hand?”

You nodded, opening the door wider for him to step inside.

As he entered, you turned, giving him full view of the situation. The dress clung tightly to your body, and you were sure your back looked exposed in the tight fabric. A slight blush crept across your cheeks as your fingers instinctively tugged at the fabric.

“Relax,” Glen said, his tone warm and teasing. He moved behind you and gently grasped the zipper. 

After a few tugs and a bit of effort, he managed to get it unstuck, smoothly pulling it the rest of the way up. The dress fit perfectly once it was zipped all the way.

Glen stepped back with a satisfied nod, patting your hip gently. “All good. You’re all set now.”

You took a deep breath, your nerves slightly eased but still there. With a nervous smile, you smoothed the front of your dress down, trying to calm yourself before glancing back at him.

“Do I look okay?” you asked quietly, suddenly unsure of how you appeared.

Glen gave you a slow once-over, his eyes lingering for just a moment longer than you expected. Then, his lips curved into a soft smile.

“You look amazing,” he said, his voice steady and sincere. “Seriously. You’re going to steal the show tonight.”

You couldn’t help but smile, the tension in your chest easing. Glen’s words meant more than you realized, and as he gave you that smile, it felt like everything was finally falling into place.

Once you were fully ready, feeling the weight of the evening ahead, Glen offered you a reassuring smile as he adjusted his jacket one last time. He gave you a soft nod, signaling that it was time to go.

Together, you left the suite, the sound of your heels echoing in the hallway as you walked side by side toward the elevator. Glen pressed the button, standing close enough to be a silent but steady presence. You couldn’t help but notice how effortlessly he moved—like he was born to own every room he entered, even though his demeanor was always so grounded.

The elevator doors opened with a soft chime, and Glen stepped aside, letting you enter first. When you reached the lobby, the bustle of the hotel faded in comparison to the calm, quiet space Glen seemed to create around the two of you. He was the kind of person who moved with purpose, but never rushed—always thoughtful, always present.

As you made your way toward the entrance, he gave a quiet wave to a few people who greeted him, but he kept his focus on you, his hand close to your lower back as if guiding you through the crowd.

Outside, a sleek black car waited by the curb, the driver standing at attention. Glen held the door open for you with a courteous nod, his hand outstretched to assist you into the back seat.

You smiled, appreciating the little things—his attention to detail, the way he never made you feel like you were inconveniencing him. You slid into the seat, and as you did, Glen quickly followed, settling next to you with a quiet grace that was all him.

The driver closed the door, and the car began to move smoothly through the streets, the city lights reflecting off the tinted windows. The buzz of the evening began to settle into a comfortable rhythm, and Glen turned his attention to you with a soft look.

“You ready for this?” he asked, his tone light but sincere. He glanced down at your dress, the slight gleam in his eyes making you feel all the more seen. “You’re gonna turn heads tonight, no doubt about it.”

You smiled, trying to play it cool, but his words still made your stomach flutter. “I’m ready,” you said, your voice steady. 

The car glided through the streets, the hum of the engine and the soft clink of the streetlights outside giving you a sense of distance from the chaos of the night ahead. Your fingers nervously drummed on the fabric of your dress, your gaze flickering from the passing city lights to the reflection of yourself in the window.

Glen noticed the subtle tension in your posture and the way your fingers twitched, like they couldn’t quite settle. His sharp eyes, attuned to every little shift in your mood, moved over to you. He shifted closer, his hand reaching across the space between you with ease, brushing lightly over your fingers before gently taking your hand in his.

"You're going to be fine," he said, his voice low, teasing but gentle, as he gave your hand a reassuring squeeze. His thumb brushed the back of your hand, smoothing away any remnants of tension. "Just smile and wave, Penguin. You’ve got this."

You couldn’t help but laugh at the nickname, the warmth of his hand in yours bringing a little bit of ease. “Penguin?” you echoed, raising an eyebrow, feeling the tension in your shoulders release with that soft chuckle.

He grinned at you, the kind of smile that melted any nervous edge. “Yeah, Penguin. You know—Madagascar. Smile and wave boys. Smile and wave.” He gave your hand a playful tug, the humor in his eyes lighting up.

You shook your head, but the tension you’d carried with you slowly began to melt. Glen had that way about him—without even trying, he made things feel easy, like you were exactly where you were supposed to be. His confidence was infectious, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to believe that you could pull this off.

The car hit a smooth turn, the soft hum of the tires filling the silence. You glanced at Glen, his easy grin still in place, his hand steady in yours. There was something about his presence—something grounding, comforting. Without thinking, you leaned your head against his shoulder, letting out a soft sigh as you let the last bits of tension drain away.

"Thank you," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

Glen glanced down at you, his expression softening. He didn’t move, didn’t shift away—he just stayed still, letting you rest there. His thumb continued its soothing motion across the back of your hand, and he tilted his head slightly toward yours.

"Anytime," he replied, his voice warm and steady. "You know I’ve got you."

For a moment, the world outside the car faded away. It was just the two of you, a quiet moment that reminded you why Glen was your best friend. His support, his calm energy—it was all you needed to take a deep breath and believe in yourself again.

As the car slowed to a stop, signaling your arrival at the red carpet, you felt ready. Maybe it was the way Glen always knew how to bring you back to yourself, or maybe it was just the fact that he was there beside you, exactly where he always seemed to be when you needed him most.

You stole a quick glance at Glen, catching the way his gaze softened as he looked back at you, his hand still comfortably wrapped around yours.

“Hey,” he said, the tone shifting just a little, serious but with the same undertone of care. “You’re gonna be great, okay? And if you need me to do anything, I’m right here. Just... be you.”

Glen gave your hand one last squeeze, a reassuring pressure that grounded you, and you suddenly felt like you could take on the world.

The driver opened the door, and the bright lights of the red carpet began to stretch ahead of you, already swirling with flashes and faces, the hum of excitement palpable in the air. Glen leaned toward you, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers grazing the smooth skin of your neck.

“You’re gonna shine tonight,” he said quietly, his voice filled with confidence, making you believe it for the first time.

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself, then flashed him a grin. “Thanks, Glen.”

He winked. “Anytime, Penguin. Let’s go make some memories.”

With that, you stepped out of the car, Glen’s hand still firmly in yours, ready to face whatever the night would bring—with him by your side, you felt ready for anything.

The roar of the red carpet hit you the moment you stepped out of the car. A wall of flashing lights and the constant hum of voices calling out names created a dizzying cacophony. For a second, you froze, feeling like a deer caught in headlights. The chaos seemed endless, but Glen’s steady hand on the small of your back was the anchor you needed.

“Stay close,” he said quietly, his voice warm and reassuring, almost lost in the noise. He guided you forward with a gentle pressure, his touch never faltering.

Reporters shouted his name, cameras clicked furiously, and fans called out from behind the barriers. Glen’s demeanor shifted effortlessly, the easy confidence you admired about him coming to life under the scrutiny. But even as he navigated the chaos like a pro, his focus never strayed far from you.

When a particularly eager photographer stepped too close, Glen instinctively pulled you in, lacing your arm through his. The motion was protective yet natural, as though he’d done it a thousand times before.

He leaned in slightly, his breath brushing your ear as he whispered, “You doing okay so far?”

You nodded, the nerves still simmering but far less overwhelming with Glen beside you. “Yeah. It’s just... a lot.”

He chuckled softly, his fingers giving your arm a light squeeze. “It’s always a lot. Just keep smiling and don’t trip. I’ve got the rest covered.”

Moments later, you were ushered to the line of reporters waiting for interviews. Glen kept you close, his hand returning to your back as he led you toward the first microphone. The journalist’s attention immediately shifted to him, questions about his latest project firing off one after another.

“This is Glen Powell, looking dapper as always! Who’s your stunning guest tonight?” one reporter asked, her eyes flicking to you with interest.

Glen grinned, that signature charm lighting up his face. “This,” he said, his voice full of pride, “is the best friend who keeps me sane.” He glanced at you, his expression softening as if to emphasize his words.

You felt a flush rise to your cheeks as the reporter laughed. “Keeping Glen Powell on track sounds like a full-time job!”

“You have no idea,” you replied, finding your confidence in the moment. Glen chuckled beside you, his presence like a shield against the overwhelming spotlight.

The interviews continued, with Glen effortlessly steering the attention toward his projects while making sure you felt included. Whenever he wasn’t speaking, his hand either rested lightly on your back or your arm stayed looped through his. The gesture was subtle, but it kept you grounded, a quiet reminder that you weren’t alone in this.

In a rare lull between interviews, Glen turned to you, his expression softening as the frenzy of the red carpet seemed to momentarily fade into the background.

“Hey,” he said, his voice low, almost drowned out by the noise around you.

You looked up at him, your heart still racing from the whirlwind of the evening. 

“Hey,” you replied, a little breathless.

He reached out, brushing a stray strand of hair that had fallen out of your updo from your face, his fingers lingering just slightly longer than necessary. His touch was light, yet it sent a wave of warmth through you. His eyes searched yours, the usual glint of mischief replaced with something quieter, more sincere. “You okay?”

The simple question held weight, as if he wasn’t just asking about the moment but something deeper. You nodded, your voice catching slightly as you said, “Yeah. Thanks to you.”

His lips quirked into a soft smile, his hand dropping back to his side, though the warmth of his touch seemed to linger. “Good. Can’t have my Penguin falling apart on me now.”

The moment hung between you, brief but charged with an unspoken connection that neither of you dared to address. Then the chaos of the red carpet surged back to life, pulling you both out of it.

“Ready to keep going?” Glen asked, his tone light again as he gestured toward the next line of reporters.

You took a deep breath, straightened your shoulders, and smiled. “Let’s do it.”

With your arm resting gently on his, Glen led you forward, his confidence bolstering your own. And as the night unfolded, you realized that no matter how overwhelming the evening became, you’d be okay—with Glen by your side.

The ballroom was a masterpiece of elegance, bathed in soft, golden light with tables draped in white linens and adorned with extravagant floral centerpieces. Each table bore name cards in ornate calligraphy, indicating an impressive roster of directors, actors, and other Hollywood heavyweights.

Glen pulled out your chair for you before taking his seat beside you, leaning in briefly to whisper, “You’ve got this. Just be yourself.”

You looked at Glen with a soft smile. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Powell.”

Within moments, the table began filling with familiar faces. To your left sat Richard Linklater himself, his unassuming charm making you feel more at ease than you’d expected. Across the table, a notable actress you’d only ever seen on-screen chatted animatedly with Glen, who was effortlessly charismatic as always.

“Glen,” Richard said with a warm smile, his Texan drawl coming through as he gestured toward you. “You didn’t introduce me to your lovely guest.”

Glen straightened, the corners of his mouth tilting upward as he turned to you. “Richard, this is the best friend who keeps me sane—and who’s also had to deal with my Dazed and Confused impression far too many times.”

You laughed lightly, shaking Richard’s hand. “It’s true. If I hear him say, ‘Alright, alright, alright,’ one more time, I might disown him.”

Richard chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “A classic never dies, though, does it?”

“I suppose not,” you conceded with a grin.

The quick banter caught the attention of the others at the table, who joined the conversation with playful remarks of their own. You held your own with ease, even managing to get a genuine laugh out of the actress across from you after a comment about the absurdity of some press junket questions.

Glen, sitting beside you, watched the exchanges with a kind of quiet pride, his gaze lingering on you whenever you spoke. At one point, he leaned closer, his voice low enough for only you to hear. “You’re killing it. Remind me again—why am I not bringing you to all of these things?”

You smirked, taking a sip of water to hide the warmth creeping into your cheeks. “Because you know I’d upstage you.”

“Touché,” he said with a soft laugh, nudging your shoulder playfully.

As the dinner continued, Glen made sure to include you in every conversation, subtly steering the spotlight toward you when someone asked about his current projects. You found yourself talking about Glen’s work ethic and how he somehow managed to juggle it all without losing his sense of humor.

“Sounds like you know him pretty well,” Richard observed with a knowing smile.

“I sure hope so after I’ve put up with him for all these years,” you replied, glancing at Glen. “Someone has to keep him humble.”

The table erupted in laughter, and Glen shook his head, though the unmistakable warmth in his expression betrayed how much he loved every second of it.

When dessert was served—an artfully plated creation that was almost too pretty to eat—Glen leaned in once more, his tone playful but sincere. “See? Told you you’d be great.”

You gave him a sidelong glance, a smile tugging at your lips. “Not bad for someone who almost didn’t make it out of the hotel room.”

“Hey,” he said, his voice softening, “you belong here, you know.”

The weight of his words settled between you, a quiet affirmation that carried more meaning than the playful banter that had preceded it. You nodded, the nerves you’d been holding onto finally beginning to ease.

The awards show was nothing short of spectacular, a seamless blend of glamour, artistry, and showmanship. The host kept the audience entertained with clever quips and light-hearted jokes, while presenters took the stage to announce the winners in a variety of categories. The room buzzed with energy as names were called, winners delivered heartfelt speeches, and cameras panned over the crowd of celebrities.

Sitting beside Glen, you couldn’t help but notice how his leg bounced slightly under the table, a telltale sign of his nerves. Despite the outward appearance of ease he projected, you knew him well enough to see through it. Every now and then, his hand brushed his jawline, the slight stubble catching the light, as he glanced at the stage and back at you with an almost imperceptible smile.

You leaned closer to him during a quieter moment. “How are you holding up?” you asked softly, your voice barely audible over the applause filling the room.

“Better with you here,” he replied, his tone casual but sincere. The weight of his words sent a gentle warmth through you, grounding you as much as it did him.

As the night progressed, Glen laughed at the host’s jokes and applauded the winners, though you could feel his anticipation building as his category grew closer. 

The glitz and chatter around you seemed to blur as the presenter finally took the stage to announce the nominees for Best Performance by an Actor in a Motion Picture - Musical or Comedy. 

You felt Glen shift in his seat, his back straightening as his name was called alongside the other nominees. His hand brushed his thigh, and you noticed him take a deep breath, holding it for a moment before letting it out slowly. Instinctively, you leaned in just enough so your shoulder lightly pressed against his, a silent reminder that you were right there with him.

The presenter opened the envelope, the seconds stretching impossibly long. “And the award goes to... Sebastian Stan!”

The room erupted into applause as Sebastian rose from his seat, making his way to the stage. You clapped along with everyone else, but the knot of disappointment in your chest was impossible to ignore. Letting out a small, defeated breath, you glanced over at Glen.

He was smiling politely, clapping for Sebastian, but you saw the flicker of disappointment in his eyes. The kind of flicker only someone who truly knew him could catch. Others at the table offered their own words of encouragement, but Glen only nodded politely, his attention still half-focused on the stage.

Without thinking, you leaned closer, your voice low and meant just for him. “You’re still the most talented guy in the room.”

You reached over, resting your hand gently on his knee under the table, offering him the kind of comfort words alone couldn’t provide. For a moment, his gaze dropped to your hand, then back to your face. A small, grateful smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as his hand briefly covered yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“Thank you,” he murmured, his voice soft but full of meaning.

Throughout the rest of the show, Glen leaned into your presence, subtly relying on you to keep him grounded. You noticed the way his body gradually relaxed, the tension in his shoulders easing as the night continued. 

When another winner gave a particularly heartfelt speech, Glen turned to you with a quiet chuckle. “At least I don’t have to worry about tripping on the way to the stage.”

You laughed softly, the sound drawing out a more genuine smile from him. “See? There’s always a silver lining.”

By the time the final award was announced and the audience began filtering out of the theater, Glen seemed more at ease. 

As the two of you stood to leave, he placed a hand on your back, guiding you through the crowd. “Thanks for keeping me sane tonight,” he said, his voice low but warm.

“Always,” you replied with a smile, feeling the unspoken connection between you deepen as the evening came to a close.

The after-party was everything you expected it to be: glamorous, extravagant, and a little overwhelming. The main Golden Globes after-party felt less like a celebration and more like a carefully orchestrated networking event. The room was packed with A-list celebrities, producers, directors, and journalists, each armed with a drink in one hand and a carefully curated smile.

Music thumped in the background, but it barely registered over the hum of conversations and the clinking of champagne glasses. Glen stayed by your side at first, introducing you to a few people here and there. You exchanged pleasantries with actors whose faces you recognized from the big screen and smiled politely at directors whose names you tried not to forget. 

But before long, Glen was pulled away, whisked from one conversation to the next like the star of the evening. You watched as he posed for pictures, his easy charm making every interaction look effortless. He’d glance back at you occasionally, offering a reassuring smile or a quick wink, but you could tell even he was beginning to feel the strain of the crowd.

You nursed a drink at the edge of the room, trying to stay out of the way while still keeping Glen in your sights. It was easy to lose track of time amidst the chaos, but the constant flow of strangers and small talk started to take its toll. The energy in the room felt electric and draining all at once, and you found yourself wishing for a quieter corner to catch your breath.

After what felt like hours, Glen appeared at your side, his hand lightly brushing your arm to get your attention. 

“Hey,” he said softly, his voice cutting through the noise around you. “This is… a lot, huh?”

You nodded, letting out a small laugh. “It’s a little overwhelming. How are you holding up?”

“I’ve smiled so much tonight my face might be stuck this way,” he joked, though there was a hint of exhaustion in his eyes. He glanced around the room, then back at you. “What do you say we head to my party? I think I’ve shaken enough hands and posed for enough pictures to last a lifetime.”

The suggestion was like a lifeline, and you didn’t hesitate to agree. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Glen’s shoulders relaxed visibly at your answer, and he gave you a small, grateful smile. He offered you his arm, the gesture both protective and grounding as he guided you through the crowd toward the exit. Despite the noise and flashing cameras still lingering near the doorway, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief as you stepped out into the cool night air.

The car ride to the rooftop bar was quiet, a welcome change from the chaos of the Golden Globes after-party. Glen leaned back against the seat, his shirt now unbuttoned to a second button and the faintest hint of exhaustion in his expression.

You glanced at him, smiling softly. “You know, most people would just go to bed after a night like this. Not go to another party.”

Glen chuckled, his head turning toward you. “What can I say? I’m not most people.”

When the car pulled up to the rooftop bar, Glen stepped out first, turning back to offer you his hand. “C’mon. Let’s go see everyone.”

The rooftop bar was stunning, its perimeter lined with fairy lights that cast a warm, golden glow. The city skyline sparkled in the distance, and the faint hum of music drifted through the air. Glen had rented the entire space, and as the two of you stepped inside, you were greeted by the cheerful buzz of conversation.

His parents were the first to spot you, their faces lighting up as they hurried over to greet Glen with warm hugs and congratulations. 

His mom pulled you into an embrace as well, her voice filled with genuine affection. “You look stunning tonight, sweetheart. And thank you for taking care of our boy out there.”

“Always,” you replied with a smile, feeling the ease that came with being around Glen’s family.

You scanned the room and spotted Leslie, Glen’s younger sister, waving excitedly from across the bar. She was all smiles as she made her way over, throwing her arms around you in a hug. 

“It’s been forever!” she exclaimed, pulling back to give you a once-over. “You look amazing! And that dress—ugh, you’re killing me.”

“You’re one to talk,” you teased, taking in her own dress. “You look incredible.”

Glen was quickly pulled into conversations with friends and other guests, his charm and warmth on full display as he moved through the room. You stayed behind with Leslie, the two of you settling into a quieter corner of the bar.

“So,” you said, leaning in conspiratorially. “Tell me everything about the engagement. I need details.”

Leslie’s face lit up, and she launched into a detailed recounting of the proposal—how her fiancé had asked, the secret planning, how he included her friends and family in on the surprise. She showed you the ring, a design that perfectly suited her, and the two of you gushed over wedding plans.

“I’m thinking late spring,” Leslie said, twirling her glass of wine between her fingers. “Something outdoors, simple but elegant. Glen keeps trying to offer to pay for everything, but I want to keep it low-key.”

“That sounds perfect,” you said, smiling. “And knowing Glen, he’ll find a way to contribute whether you want him to or not.”

Leslie laughed, nodding. “Oh, I know. He’s the best, though. We’re lucky to have him.”

“Yeah, we really are.” Your gaze drifted across the room to where Glen was laughing with a small group of friends, his easy smile making your own lips curve upward. His hand was resting casually in the pocket of his suit pants.

“You’ve got that look again,” Leslie said, a teasing lilt in her tone.

You blinked, snapping your gaze back to her. “What look?”

She grinned knowingly and nudged your arm with her elbow. “The ‘I’m totally into Glen but I’ll never admit it’ look.”

Your eyes widened, heat rushing to your cheeks. “What? That’s ridiculous,” you said quickly, trying to laugh it off. “You’re crazy.”

“Uh-huh,” Leslie said, leaning back against the bar with a smirk. “Sure I am.”

You rolled your eyes, determined to brush off her teasing. “He’s my best friend, Les. That’s-” But before you could finish your sentence, Glen glanced over at the two of you. His eyes found yours across the room, and when he smiled—soft, warm, and undeniably genuine—you felt your words falter. 

You didn’t even realize you had stopped speaking until Leslie let out a low chuckle.

“Oh my God,” she whispered, barely containing her laughter. “You’ve got it bad.”

Realizing what just happened, you tore your gaze away from Glen, your face burning. 

“I do not,” you muttered, but the weak protest only made Leslie laugh harder.

She shook her head, her grin widening. “You’re adorable when you’re flustered. Honestly, I’ve suspected this for years, but that little moment right there? Total confirmation.”

“Okay, enough,” you said, waving your hands as if to physically push the conversation away. “Let’s focus less on your brother and my nonexistent love life. Let’s get back to your wedding.”

Leslie just smirked, clearly not buying your denial. “Fine, but for the record? He’s totally into you too.”

You gave Leslie a confused look, followed by a doubtful laugh. “Yeah, right?” you said, your voice tinged with disbelief.

Leslie raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed by your self-doubt. “Why do you think he wouldn’t be into you?” she asked, crossing her arms as if she were gearing up to debate.

You sighed, glancing down at your drink. “I mean…look at him,” you said, gesturing vaguely in Glen’s direction. “He could have literally anyone he wants. Models, actresses, anyone. And I’m just…” You trailed off, shrugging.

Leslie tilted her head, studying you with a knowing smile. “Just what?” she pressed.

“Just me,” you finished weakly, feeling a little silly for saying it out loud.

Leslie let out an exaggerated sigh, shaking her head like she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Okay, first of all, that’s ridiculous. Second of all—” She paused, leaning in slightly for emphasis. “You’re the one he asked to be his date tonight. Not a model, not an actress, you.”

You blinked, momentarily caught off guard by the truth of her words. “That’s just because we’re friends,” you said, though your voice lacked conviction.

“Friends,” Leslie repeated, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “Right. Because friends definitely look at each other the way he looks at you.”

You felt your cheeks heat up again. “He does not look at me any type of way,” you insisted, but Leslie wasn’t buying it.

She smirked, nodding toward Glen, who was now making his way across the room in your direction.

“Sure he doesn’t,” she said, her voice teasing. “But just in case you’re still in denial, why don’t you pay attention when he gets over here? You’ll see what I mean.”

Before you could respond, Glen reached the two of you, his presence immediately drawing your attention. 

“Hey,” he said, flashing that easy smile of his. “Am I interrupting something, or can I steal her for a bit?”

Leslie’s grin widened as she gave you a pointed look. “Not at all,” she said sweetly, stepping aside. “She’s all yours.”

You shot her a subtle glare, but Leslie just winked at you before turning to join the rest of the group. As Glen’s attention shifted back to you, your heart did that annoying fluttery thing it always seemed to do when he was around.

“You okay?” he asked, his gaze flicking over your face as if checking for any signs of discomfort.

“Yeah,” you said, forcing a smile. “Just catching up with Leslie.”

“Good,” he said, his smile softening. “She’s been excited to see you. I think she’s secretly more interested in hanging out with you than me tonight.”

You laughed, the sound helping to ease the tension swirling in your chest. “Well, to be fair, I am pretty great,” you teased, falling back into your usual banter with him.

“Can’t argue with that,” Glen said, his tone light, but there was something in his eyes that lingered a little too long, something that made your breath catch just slightly.

The atmosphere shifted subtly as the music transitioned to something slower, a beat just mellow enough to set a softer, almost romantic mood. The chatter in the room seemed to quiet slightly, replaced by the rhythmic sway of the melody. Glen glanced toward the small dance floor, where a few of his friends were starting to pair off, and then turned back to you.

“Come on,” he said, extending a hand toward you, his smile warm and inviting.

You shook your head immediately, taking a small step back. “You know I don’t dance,” you reminded him, your voice firm but playful.

His grin only widened, clearly undeterred. “And you know I don’t take no for an answer,” he teased, stepping closer and gently taking your hand before you could protest further.

“Glen,” you said, a hint of exasperation in your tone, but he was already pulling you toward the dance floor.

“Relax,” he said with a laugh, glancing back at you. “I’ll lead. All you have to do is follow.”

You sighed in resignation, realizing there was no escaping this. When you reached the dance floor, you placed a hand on his shoulder, your fingers brushing against the soft fabric of his dress shirt. He wrapped an arm securely around your waist, pulling you just close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating from him.

“You’ve done this before,” he said lightly as he started to guide you to the rhythm of the music.

“Once or twice,” you admitted, though you still felt slightly self-conscious. “But I’m warning you—I’m not great at it.”

“You’re doing fine,” he assured you, his voice low and steady, as if the rest of the room didn’t exist.

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught sight of Leslie standing by the bar. She was watching you with an unmistakable smirk, her arms crossed in triumph. When your eyes met hers, she gave you a knowing look, the kind that said, See? Told you so.

You rolled your eyes at her and shook your head, trying to silently tell her to knock it off. Glen noticed the exchange, his brow furrowing slightly as he glanced over at Leslie and then back down at you. 

“What am I missing?” he asked, his voice tinged with curiosity.

“Nothing,” you said quickly, though your cheeks were already starting to warm.

“Doesn’t look like nothing,” he said, his tone teasing now. “What’s going on between you two?”

“Leslie’s just…being Leslie,” you said vaguely, hoping to leave it at that.

But Glen wasn’t letting it go. He tilted his head, a slow smile spreading across his face as realization started to dawn on him. 

“Wait a minute…” he said, his gaze narrowing slightly. “Is she messing with you about something?”

“Not really,” you said, trying to sound casual.

“Not really?” he repeated, clearly unconvinced. His eyes flicked back toward Leslie, who was now openly grinning at the two of you. “Oh, she’s definitely messing with you about something,” he said with a laugh.

You groaned, your head dropping slightly as you muttered, “I’m going to kill her.”

Glen chuckled, his hand on your waist giving a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you,” he said, his tone playful but his smile soft.

For a moment, you forgot about Leslie entirely, your focus shifting back to Glen as you moved together in time with the music. His gaze lingered on you, his expression unexpectedly tender, and you felt your heart skip in a way that made you wonder if Leslie might actually have a point after all.

As the slower song faded out, you felt a moment of relief. But then the next song started, and your heart sank a little as the unmistakable notes of a love ballad filled the air. The kind that spoke of longing and intimacy, the kind that made you suddenly hyper aware of the fact that you were still in Glen’s arms.

You glanced up at him, your lips parting to excuse yourself, but before you could step away, his hand on your back shifted, a gentle but deliberate pressure that kept you in place.

“Stay,” he said softly, his voice low enough that only you could hear.

“Glen, I—” you started, already shaking your head. There was no way you could dance to a love song with your best friend. It felt too…loaded.

“Just one more,” he murmured, and when your eyes met his, whatever protest you had ready fell away. There was something in the way he looked at you—something unspoken but undeniable. It wasn’t just a friendly look. It was softer, deeper, and for a moment, it left you breathless.

You nodded, barely, and he smiled—just a small, private curve of his lips that made your stomach flip.

He pulled you just a little closer this time, close enough that your chest brushed against his. The hold on your back shifted, his hand sliding just slightly lower, resting at the curve where your back met your waist. It wasn’t inappropriate—just enough to feel a little less like friendship and a little more like something else.

Without thinking, you leaned into him, your cheek resting lightly against his chest. His warmth was comforting, grounding, and you closed your eyes for a moment, letting yourself get lost in the rhythm of the song and the steady rise and fall of his breathing.

You felt him tilt his head, the faintest brush of his cheek against the top of yours. It was such a small gesture, but it sent your heart into a quiet frenzy, a rhythm that seemed to echo in time with the music.

Neither of you said a word as you moved together, swaying gently to the melody. The first verse passed, then the chorus, and you couldn’t help but notice how natural it felt to be here, like the rest of the world had melted away.

The song came to an end, the final notes fading into a hum of conversation and clinking glasses around you. Glen didn’t move right away, and for a moment, neither did you. You stayed in his arms, feeling the warmth of his hand still pressed against your back, the steady beat of his heart against your cheek.

But then someone called his name from across the room, breaking the fragile bubble that had surrounded you both. Glen’s arm slipped away, though his hand lingered on your elbow for a second longer than necessary.

“I’ll be right back,” he said softly, his eyes lingering on yours, as if reluctant to leave.

You nodded, offering a small smile, and watched as he crossed the room to greet a new arrival. The absence of his touch left you feeling untethered, a sudden awareness of just how much you’d let yourself melt into him during that dance.

Needing a moment to collect yourself—and maybe something stronger than a moment of quiet—you made your way to the bar. You ordered a glass of wine and took a steadying sip, trying to push the last few minutes out of your mind.

Of course, Leslie found you before you even made it halfway through your drink.

“So,” she started, leaning casually against the bar with an unmistakable smirk. “That was…something.”

You rolled your eyes, though you could feel the blush already creeping up your neck. “Don’t start.”

“Start what?” she asked innocently, though her grin was anything but. “I’m just saying, I don’t think I’ve ever seen my brother look at someone like that. Or hold someone like that. Or—”

“Leslie,” you warned, though the heat in your cheeks betrayed your attempt at composure.

She laughed, clearly enjoying herself. “I’m just saying, for someone who insists she doesn’t dance, you looked awfully comfortable out there dancing with my brother.”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” you replied, taking another sip of your wine in a futile attempt to drown your nerves.

“Doesn’t it?” she countered, raising an eyebrow. “Because from where I was standing, it looked like something more.”

You shot her a sharp look, but she just shrugged, still grinning.

“Relax,” she said, nudging your arm playfully. “I’m not about to make a big announcement or anything. But if you don’t see it yet…” She trailed off, giving you a knowing look before gesturing subtly toward Glen, who was still across the room, laughing with a small group of friends.

You followed her gaze despite yourself, and your heart gave a traitorous little lurch at the sight of him. His smile was easy and charming, but every now and then, his eyes flicked toward the bar, as if checking to see if you were still there.

“See what I mean?” Leslie said softly, pulling your attention back to her.

You shook your head, trying to play it off. “You’re reading into things.”

“Am I?” she challenged, her tone light but her expression serious. “Because I’ve known Glen my whole life, and I’ve never seen him look at anyone the way he looks at you. So, maybe it’s time you stop convincing yourself it’s all in your head.”

Her words hit harder than you expected, and you found yourself speechless, staring down into your glass of wine as if it held the answers you were so desperately trying to avoid.

Leslie let the silence linger for a moment before giving your arm another playful nudge. “Just think about it, okay?”

And with that, she pushed off the bar and disappeared back into the crowd, leaving you alone with your swirling thoughts—and the undeniable truth you were no longer sure you could ignore.

You stepped away from the bar, glass of wine in hand, and gravitated toward a quieter corner of the rooftop. The laughter and conversation from the party grew softer with every step, the music fading into a pleasant hum in the background. A gentle breeze brushed against your skin as you approached the railing, the Los Angeles skyline glittering like a sea of stars before you.

You leaned against the cool metal and took a slow sip of your wine, your thoughts drifting back to Leslie’s words. Was she onto something? No, she couldn’t be. Glen was your best friend, the one constant in your life through every twist and turn. You would know if he felt something for you… right?

But then again…

You sighed and rested your elbow on the railing, pressing your glass lightly to your lips. Leslie had known Glen her entire life. If anyone could read him, it was her. And the way she spoke—like she’d been holding onto this knowledge for a while—left you with an uncomfortable sense of doubt.

Could she be right? Could you really have missed something that big?

The sound of footsteps approaching pulled you from your thoughts. You looked over, expecting another party guest, but instead, you found Glen standing beside you. The velvet tuxedo jacket was now off, and his hair was a little mussed from probably running his hand through it one too many times, but his smile was warm and familiar.

“Hey,” he said softly, leaning casually against the railing next to you. “You okay?”

You managed a small smile and nodded. “Yeah, just needed a breather.”

He studied you for a moment, his gaze calm and steady, before arching a brow. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with Leslie pestering you at the bar, would it?”

You rolled your eyes, though your lips twitched with the hint of a smile. “No.”

“Uh-huh,” Glen said, clearly not buying it. “Because Leslie may or may not have told me to come find you.”

Your heart gave a jolt, and you turned to look at him. “She what?”

“She didn’t say why,” Glen added quickly, holding up a hand as if to reassure you. “But… she said…enough.”

“Enough?” you asked, your voice quieter now.

He hesitated, his smile fading into something softer, something more sincere. “Enough to make me realize I’ve been putting this off for too long.”

Before you could ask what he meant, Glen stepped closer. His eyes searched yours, as though he were trying to gauge your reaction before saying anything else. 

“I wanted to thank you,” he said, his voice low. “For coming with me tonight. For being here for me—not just tonight, but always.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but the words wouldn’t come. There was something in his tone, in the way he looked at you, that made your heart beat just a little faster.

“And I need you to know,” he continued, taking another step closer, “how much you mean to me.”

The space between you was nearly nonexistent now, and for a moment, neither of you said a word. His eyes searched yours, his hand twitching at his side like he wanted to reach for you but wasn’t sure if he should.

You felt it then—that shift Leslie had hinted at, the one you’d been too afraid to fully acknowledge. This wasn’t just your best friend standing in front of you. This was Glen, the man who had been at your side for years, looking at you like you were the only person in the world.

He took a deep breath and leaned in slightly, pausing when your noses were almost touching. His eyes flickered to your lips, then back to your eyes, giving you a chance to pull away. But you didn’t.

Instead, you met his gaze, your heart thundering in your chest.

Glen’s tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip, and then his eyes fluttered shut as he raised a hand to your face. His palm was warm as it cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin.

You closed your eyes just as his lips found yours.

The kiss was soft at first, tentative, as though he was afraid you might pull away. But when you didn’t, when you leaned into him and placed a hand lightly against his chest, he deepened the kiss, his other arm wrapping around your waist to pull you closer.

The world around you faded—the music, the laughter, the skyline. All that mattered was the way Glen’s lips moved against yours, the way he held you like he’d been waiting for this moment for far too long.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The world seemed to hold its breath as you both stood there, processing what had just happened. Glen’s hand lingered on your cheek, his thumb tracing soft, absentminded circles against your skin. Your heart raced, the warmth of his touch grounding you in the surreal, breathtaking reality of the moment.

Finally, Glen broke the silence, his lips curving into that familiar, playful grin that always managed to put you at ease. “So…” he began, his tone light but his eyes still holding that intensity from before. “Does this mean you’ll let me take you to next year’s Globes too?”

The laugh bubbled out of you before you could stop it, breaking the tension in the most perfect way. You shook your head, resting your forehead against his chest as a smile spread across your lips. “We’ll see if you behave, Cowboy.”

He chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest where your head rested. “Behave? I’m a perfect gentleman,” he said, his voice tinged with mock indignation.

You pulled back just enough to look up at him, arching a brow. “Oh, really? Perfect gentlemen don’t usually kiss their best friends on rooftops in the middle of a party.”

His grin widened as he shrugged, his hand still resting lightly on your waist. “Maybe I got tired of being just your best friend.”

Your breath caught again at the sincerity in his tone, the way his teasing words carried so much truth. Glen had always been charming, always quick with a joke or a flirtatious comment, but this felt different. This felt real.

You didn’t respond right away, unsure of what to say, but instead of pushing, Glen just smiled and leaned down to press a quick, gentle kiss to your forehead. And with that, he stepped back slightly, though his hand still lingered on your waist, as if to let you know that even with the space between you, he was still there, still yours.

You tilted your head back to look up at him, searching his eyes for any hint of hesitation, but all you saw was sincerity. The smile that still lingered on his lips wasn’t one of teasing; it was genuine, like he was relieved to have crossed that line with you.

“I don’t know what to say,” you confessed, your voice quieter than usual. “This is... a lot to take in, you know?”

Glen nodded, his thumb brushing lightly over the fabric of your dress, a small gesture that seemed to ground you. 

“Yeah,” he said softly, “I get it.” He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he added, “But I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

His words sent a wave of warmth through you, and for a brief moment, you closed your eyes, letting yourself truly hear what he was saying. The uncertainty that had clouded your mind earlier began to dissipate, replaced by something far more powerful—trust.

“I just don’t want to mess things up, Glen,” you admitted, looking up at him again, your voice low but clear. “We’ve been friends for so long. I don’t want to lose that.”

His hand gently cupped your face, his thumb now tracing along your jawline as he spoke, his voice steady. “We won’t lose it,” he promised, his gaze never leaving yours. “I wouldn’t let that happen. We’re in this together, okay?”

You nodded, the sincerity in his words making your heart swell. “Okay,” you whispered, the word feeling like a vow in the quiet space between you.

For a moment, neither of you moved, as if the world had paused just for you two. It was peaceful, despite everything—the chaos of the party, the swirling emotions inside you. Glen was here, right in front of you, and he was offering you something more. Something you hadn’t expected but couldn’t deny.

Then, in the silence that followed, he grinned, that familiar playful glint returning to his eyes. “So, does this mean you’ll let me take you on a date?”

You tilted your head slightly, looking up at him, and couldn’t help but smile at the way his eyes twinkled with excitement. He was waiting, his expression open and genuine, and suddenly, it didn’t feel like anything was uncertain anymore. The nerves, the doubts—they melted away in the warmth of his gaze.

"Yeah," you said softly, your voice filled with the quiet confidence that had come from years of friendship and, somehow, this unexpected moment. "I'd like that."

His smile deepened, and for a second, it was as if time stood still. He reached out, brushing a stray piece of hair from your face, his hand lingering on your cheek.

Without another word, he leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a soft kiss. It wasn’t rushed, nor was it shy. It was everything you hadn’t known you needed.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested gently against yours. You both stayed there for a moment, eyes closed, as if savoring the moment before the world could rush back in.

"Come on," Glen said, pulling you gently by the hand, “Let’s not keep everyone waiting.”

As he led you back toward the party, his fingers intertwined with yours, and the moment felt complete. You’d crossed the line, yes, but it was the best kind of line to cross—one that made you excited for whatever came next.

You shared one last look, a silent promise between you two, before re-entering the party, side by side, ready for whatever the night—and your future—held.

[crossfandomskylines]

In the Space Between: Chapter 23

OTHER CHAPTERS:

Chapter 1 I Chapter 2 I Chapter 3 I Chapter 4 I Chapter 5

Chapter 6 I Chapter 7 I Chapter 8 I Chapter 9 I Chapter 10

Chapter 11 I Chapter 12 I Chapter 13 I Chapter 14 I Chapter 15

Chapter 16 I Chapter 17 I Chapter 18 I Chapter 19 I Chapter 20

Chapter 21 I Chapter 22

Pairing: Glen Powell x OC

Summary: Glen and Gabby try to make the most of the last few hours they have together before another five weeks apart.

Word Count:8.7k

A/N: As always please let me know what you think with Hearts, Comments, and Reblogs. I love seeing your thoughts on this story as it progresses!

Glen eased the car into the garage of his Los Angeles home, the soft hum of the engine fading as he turned off the ignition. The intimate quiet that followed seemed to mirror the shift in Gabby’s mood. She’d been quieter since dinner, her thoughts clearly preoccupied. He unbuckled his seatbelt and stepped out, circling the car to her side.

When he opened her door, Gabby glanced up, offering him a small smile. Glen returned it warmly and extended a hand. 

“Come on,” he said softly, his tone inviting and grounding at once. 

She placed her hand in his, letting him help her out of the car. Her fingers felt light in his grip, and as she stood, he didn’t let go right away.

“You’ve been a little quiet since we left,” Glen said gently, his eyes scanning her face as he shut the car door with his free hand. “Talk to me, Gabs.”

She hesitated, her gaze flickering to the ground. “I’m fine,” she replied softly, though the slight crack in her voice betrayed her.

Glen tilted his head, studying her. He shifted closer, brushing a strand of hair away from her cheek. “You’re thinking about tonight, aren’t you?” he asked, his voice so quiet it was almost a whisper. He didn’t need to clarify—he meant his flight. The thing neither of them had wanted to think about during their evening together.

Gabby’s eyes darted up to meet his, filled with a mix of vulnerability and something she couldn’t quite name. “I just—” She paused, biting her lip. “I wish you didn’t have to leave.”

He stepped even closer, his hand moving to cup her cheek. “Hey,” he murmured, leaning in until his forehead nearly touched hers. “I’m still here. I’m right here with you.”

Before she could respond, Glen closed the distance, capturing her lips in a kiss that was as much a reassurance as it was an expression of everything he couldn’t put into words. His free hand rested on her hip, grounding her, holding her in place as if to remind her she wasn’t alone in her thoughts.

When he pulled back, he lingered close, his lips brushing hers as he spoke. “We’ve still got time, Gabby. Let’s not waste it worrying about tomorrow, okay?”

As they stepped inside Glen’s house, the warmth enveloped them, a stark contrast to the cool evening air. Gabby let out a soft sigh, still wrapped in Glen’s jacket. 

“Now, how about I get you something to drink, and we make the most of the rest of our night?”

Gabby nodded, her smile growing. “That sounds perfect.”

Glen disappeared into the kitchen while Gabby sank onto the couch, savoring the cozy atmosphere of his home. A moment later, he returned with a soda in his hand—the exact brand and flavor she always seemed to gravitate toward. Gabby couldn’t help but smile as he handed it to her, the small gesture hitting her right in the heart.

“You keep this here just for me, don’t you?” she asked playfully, popping open the can.

Glen shrugged with a smug grin. “Maybe. Gotta be prepared if you come over, right?”

Gabby laughed softly, shaking her head. “You’re something else.”

He perched on the arm of the couch beside her, his gaze dropping to her dress. “You want to change into something comfortable?” he asked casually.

She glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. “Change into what? I don’t exactly have clothes here.”

His lips curled into a smirk, and he leaned down slightly, meeting her gaze. “You can borrow some of mine,” he offered.

Her eyes lit up, and a smile tugged at her lips and she nodded in agreement and stood up, cradling the soda in her hands.

Glen led her down the hall toward his bedroom, his arm brushing hers as they walked. 

When they arrived at his room, Glen disappeared into the walk-in closet, leaving Gabby standing near the edge of the bed. She glanced around the room, taking in the cozy yet masculine decor—a blend of soft gray tones, dark wood furniture, and personal touches like framed photos and a guitar propped in the corner. Her thoughts were momentarily interrupted as Glen returned, holding a neatly folded pair of sweatpants and one of his t-shirts.

“These should be comfy,” he said, offering her the clothes.

Gabby reached for them, but before she could take the bundle, Glen’s hand brushed hers, lingering. “Do you want help with the dress?” he asked softly, his eyes locking on hers.

Her breath caught, a blush creeping up her neck. She nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. “Okay.”

Glen set the clothes on the bed and stepped behind her, his fingers gently brushing her hair over one shoulder. He found the zipper at the back of her dress, pulling it down with careful precision. The fabric loosened, slipping slightly over her shoulders.

“You okay?” he murmured, his voice close to her ear.

Gabby nodded, swallowing hard as the dress slipped further. “Yeah,” she whispered.

Glen’s hands moved to her shoulders, guiding the straps of the dress down her arms with an almost reverent touch. The dress pooled at her feet, leaving her in nothing but her strapless bra and matching panties. She felt exposed but safe, her heart pounding as she turned to face him.

His gaze swept over her slowly, his lips parting as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words. 

“You’re stunning,” he finally managed, his voice thick with emotion.

Gabby’s breath hitched, and before she could overthink it, Glen closed the space between them. His hands framed her face as his lips found hers in a kiss that was both urgent and deeply tender. Her arms looped around his neck, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened, her body pressing against his.

Glen’s hands began to roam, sliding down her sides and resting at her waist, his thumbs brushing the bare skin just above the waistband of her panties. The heat between them grew, his kisses trailing down her jaw to the sensitive spot just below her ear.

“Glen,” Gabby whispered, her voice a mix of want and hesitation.

He pulled back slightly, his forehead pressing to hers as he breathed heavily. “We don’t have to,” he said softly, his hands steadying her.

Gabby searched his eyes, finding nothing but patience and love in his expression. Slowly, she nodded. “I want this,” she whispered.

A small smile played on Glen’s lips before he leaned in, capturing her mouth in another kiss, this one even more charged with emotion.

Gabby’s fingers trembled slightly as she reached up to the first button of Glen’s shirt. Her eyes stayed locked on his as she worked her way down, unfastening each one slowly, deliberately. With every button undone, more of his chest was revealed, the warmth of his skin brushing against her fingertips.

When she reached the last button, Glen shrugged the shirt off his shoulders in one fluid motion, letting it fall to the floor without breaking the kiss.

Her hands moved instinctively to the hem of the white undershirt he was wearing, her fingers slipping beneath the soft fabric to graze the firm muscles of his abdomen. She hesitated for only a moment, then began to push the shirt upward.

Glen’s lips stilled against hers, and he pulled back just enough to meet her gaze. There was something unspoken in the way his eyes searched hers, a mix of desire and tenderness. She gave him a small, reassuring nod, and he gripped the back of his shirt, tugging it over his head in one quick motion.

The undershirt joined the pile on the floor as Glen’s hands found her waist again. He pulled her close, his body pressing against hers, and the heat between them grew. Gabby let out a soft, breathy sigh as her hands roamed across his chest, tracing the lines of muscle and the steady beat of his heart beneath her palm.

“You have no idea how much I want you,” Glen murmured, his voice husky as he leaned down to capture her lips again.

Gabby melted into the kiss, her arms wrapping around his neck as her body molded to his. She felt the strength in his embrace, the way his hands splayed against her lower back, holding her as if she might disappear.

Time seemed to stand still as the kiss deepened, each moment more intoxicating than the last. Glen’s hands began to roam again, exploring the curve of her hips and the bare skin of her back, his touch sending sparks of electricity through her.

Glen’s lips left hers, trailing a line of slow, deliberate kisses along her jaw and down to the curve of her neck. Gabby tilted her head instinctively, giving him more access as her breath hitched in anticipation.

His mouth moved lower, pressing soft kisses to her collarbones, his stubble grazing her skin and leaving a trail of heat in its wake. Gabby’s hands clung to his shoulders, steadying herself as his lips reached the edge of her dress.

Glen’s fingers brushed against the straps of her bra, slipping them down her shoulders with a practiced ease. His lips followed, kissing the newly exposed skin as he reached around her back. With a gentle tug, the clasp came undone, and Glen slid the fabric away, letting it fall to the floor to join the growing pile at their feet.

He pulled back slightly, his eyes roaming her form with an intensity that made Gabby’s cheeks flush. Gabby felt a rush of warmth, her hands instinctively moving to cover herself, but Glen caught her wrists gently, guiding her hands away. 

“Don’t,” he whispered, his gaze locking with hers. “Let me see you.”

As her arms fell back to her sides, Glen reached up, his hands caressing her sides before sliding upward. His palms cupped her, his touch firm yet gentle, and Gabby’s breath hitched as his thumbs brushed over her skin.

He leaned down again, his lips grazing the curve of her chest before pressing soft kisses there. Every touch, every kiss, was deliberate, as if he was savoring every inch of her. Gabby’s hands found their way into his hair, her fingers tangling in the soft strands as she let herself get lost in the moment.

Glen’s hands slid down to Gabby’s waist, his fingers pressing lightly against her skin. Without breaking their kiss, he shifted, wrapping one arm around her lower back. Gabby gasped softly as she felt herself being lifted effortlessly off the floor, her arms instinctively wrapping around his neck for support.

His other hand moved to the back of her thigh, gripping her firmly as he carried her toward the bed. Gabby’s heart raced as she felt the warmth of his hand against her skin, his strength both grounding and exhilarating.

When they reached the edge of the bed, Glen leaned forward, gently lowering her onto the soft mattress. Gabby’s breath caught as he hovered above her, his lips capturing hers in another searing kiss before trailing down her neck and over her collarbones.

Slowly, his mouth continued its descent, leaving a trail of kisses down the curve between her chest. Gabby shivered beneath his touch, her hands instinctively finding his shoulders as his lips reached her stomach.

Glen paused for a moment, his fingers tracing the soft skin just above the waistband of her panties. His lips followed, brushing feather-light kisses along the edge, his stubble grazing her in a way that sent sparks skittering down her spine.

He glanced up at her then, his eyes meeting hers in a way that made her heart skip. “You okay?” he murmured, his voice low and full of care.

Gabby nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. “Yeah. I’m okay.”

Glen smiled softly, his hands sliding along her hips as he kissed her skin once more, his touch both tender and electrifying as he continued to explore her with reverence.

Glen’s lips lingered against the curve of Gabby’s stomach before he pulled back just slightly, his gaze drifting down her body. A soft, appreciative smile tugged at his lips as his hands gently rested on her hips. 

“Red,” he murmured, his voice thick with admiration, “is definitely your color.”

Gabby felt her cheeks flush, her breath hitching at the way he looked at her—as if she were the most captivating thing he’d ever seen.

His fingers found the delicate waistband of her lace panties, hooking into the fabric with a deliberate slowness. He kept his eyes locked on hers as he began to slide them down, his movements unhurried and careful, as though savoring every moment.

The soft material brushed over her thighs, then past her knees, before he pulled them completely off and let them fall to the floor, joining the growing pile of their discarded clothes. His hands smoothed back up the length of her legs, his touch warm and reverent, until they settled at her waist again.

Glen leaned down, brushing a kiss just above her hipbone, and then another, his stubble grazing her skin. 

“Beautiful,” he whispered against her, the word so soft it was almost inaudible.

Gabby’s breath came in shallow waves, her hands instinctively reaching for him, threading through his hair as her heart raced. 

Glen’s lips found the soft skin of Gabby’s inner thigh, planting gentle kisses there that sent sparks through her body. His hands caressed her hips, holding her steady as his mouth began a slow, torturous journey up her thigh. His stubble grazed her sensitive skin, adding an extra layer of sensation that made her shiver.

He kissed a path higher, closer to where she wanted him most, but just as she thought he might give her what she was silently begging for, his mouth moved to the opposite thigh, starting the same agonizingly slow progression.

Gabby let out a frustrated whine, her hips instinctively lifting toward him in search of relief. “Glen,” she murmured, her voice laced with both desperation and need.

The sound of her voice made him pause, lifting his gaze to meet hers with a smirk playing on his lips. 

“Patience, baby,” he teased, his tone light but filled with promise.

Her hands found their way to his hair, tugging lightly in protest, and he chuckled softly, the vibrations of his laugh brushing against her skin.

“You’ll get what you want,” he murmured, pressing another kiss to the sensitive spot just below her hipbone, “but I’m going to take my time.”

His lips returned to her thigh, this time with more intent. He kissed and lightly sucked on the delicate skin, leaving faint marks in his wake as Gabby squirmed beneath him. Her whines grew more insistent, her body arching toward him as if trying to guide him to where she needed him.

“Glen,” she breathed again, her voice trembling.

He smiled against her skin, brushing one last kiss to her thigh before finally, slowly, moving closer.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered, his voice a low rumble. 

He finally leaned in and gave Gabby what she so desperately wanted. The first touch of his tongue against her sent a shockwave through her, her body arching instinctively off the bed as a soft gasp escaped her lips.

Her head fell back against the covers, her fingers tightening in the fabric as she struggled to process the overwhelming sensation. Every slow, deliberate movement of his tongue drew a new sound from her, each one more desperate than the last.

“Glen,” she murmured, her voice shaky and filled with breathless awe. He hummed against her in response, the vibration adding another layer to the already unbearable pleasure coursing through her.

Her hand found its way to his hair again, her fingers tangling in the soft strands as if she needed something to anchor herself. Glen didn’t stop, his movements steady and precise as he worked her closer and closer to the edge.

“Taste incredible,” he murmured between kisses, his voice muffled but full of admiration.

Gabby’s breath hitched, her body reacting to every word, every touch. Her mind was hazy, consumed entirely by the sensation of him. Nothing else existed—just Glen, his touch, his warmth, and the way he was unraveling her so completely.

Glen's lips curved into a faint smile against her skin as he brought one hand up, his fingers gently brushing over her thigh before slipping between her legs to join the efforts of his tongue. 

Gabby’s breath hitched sharply, her fingers gripping his hair tighter as her hips moved instinctively toward him. Every touch, every flick of his tongue and glide of his fingers, pushed her closer to the edge, her body trembling under his meticulous attention.

“Glen,” she gasped, his name tumbling from her lips like a prayer. Her voice was breathless and unsteady, the sound of it only spurring him on.

His hand adjusted slightly, finding just the right rhythm, his fingers curling in a way that had her toes curling against the bed. Her moans grew louder, more desperate, as the pressure inside her built to an almost unbearable peak.

“Come for me, baby,” he murmured against her, his voice low and full of awe. The vibrations of his words sent another shiver through her, and she could feel herself teetering on the brink.

Her breaths came in shallow gasps, her head rolling back against the covers as her body tensed. She was so close, every nerve in her body alive and reaching for release, and Glen could feel it.

“Let go, Gabs,” he said softly, his voice coaxing and tender.

Gabby’s entire body tensed, her back arching off the bed as the waves of release crashed over her. A soft cry escaped her lips, her hands clutching Glen’s hair as her head fell back into the covers. The intensity of it left her trembling, every nerve alive and pulsing as the feeling washed through her in powerful, consuming waves.

Glen didn’t stop, his mouth and fingers moving gently now, guiding her through her release with tender precision. He pressed soft kisses to her inner thighs as her breathing began to slow, his touch light and soothing as her body relaxed beneath him.

When she finally stilled, her chest rising and falling in deep breaths, Glen shifted. He pressed one final kiss to her hip before crawling up onto the bed beside her.

Gabby turned her head toward him, her cheeks flushed and her eyes still half-lidded as she met his gaze. Glen’s lips curved into a soft smile as he reached up, his hand brushing a strand of hair from her face. He cupped her cheek, his thumb gliding over her skin in slow, comforting strokes.

“You’re incredible,” he murmured, his voice low and full of warmth.

Gabby let out a breathless laugh, her lips curving into a small, bashful smile. “You’re not so bad yourself,” she whispered, her voice still tinged with the aftermath of what he’d just done to her.

Glen’s smile widened, and he leaned down to press a gentle kiss to her forehead. “How’re you feeling?” he asked softly, his thumb continuing its slow, soothing caress.

“Like I might float away,” she admitted, her voice light with a mix of wonder and contentment.

Glen chuckled, his hand slipping from her cheek to tangle gently with hers. “Then I’ll make sure to hold you down,” he teased, his voice playful but his eyes still tender.

Gabby smiled softly at Glen, her fingers brushing lightly over his as she squeezed his hand one more time before releasing it. She sat up slowly, her body still tingling from the intensity of her release, but her focus now shifting entirely to him.

Without saying a word, she slid off the edge of the bed and sank gracefully to her knees in front of him, her hands coming to rest on his thighs. Glen’s breath hitched as he watched her, his brows lifting slightly in surprise as her hands moved to the buckle of his belt.

“Gabby…” he murmured, but she didn’t stop, her fingers deftly undoing the clasp before moving to the button of his pants.

Before she could continue, Glen reached down, his hand gently covering hers to stop her. “Hey,” he said softly, his voice low and tender. “You don’t have to do that.”

Gabby tilted her head up to look at him, her wide eyes meeting his. “I know,” she whispered, her voice steady but warm. “I want to.”

Glen’s gaze softened, his thumb brushing lightly over the back of her hand where it rested on his belt. “Gabby…” he started, his tone still hesitant, but the way she was looking at him made his resolve falter.

“I want to make you feel good, too,” she said quietly, her sincerity shining through in every word. “Please, Glen.”

He exhaled deeply, his jaw tightening for a moment as he studied her. The vulnerability and care in her eyes were impossible to ignore, and the sheer fact that she wanted to do this for him made his chest tighten in ways he didn’t expect.

“You’re going to be the death of me, Gabs,” he murmured with a soft chuckle, letting his hand fall away from hers.

Gabby’s fingers worked with a quiet determination, undoing the button and zipper of his pants with ease. Glen lifted his hips slightly, his muscles taut beneath her hands, allowing her to slide both his pants and boxers down in one smooth motion. She shifted back to pull the fabric down his legs and discarded it to the side, leaving him bare before her.

Her breath hitched for a moment, her gaze falling to him. There was a flicker of nervousness that flashed across her face, but it was quickly overtaken by resolve as she reached up, wrapping her fingers delicately around him.

The heat of him was palpable, and her touch was tentative at first, but as her hand began to move—slowly sliding up and down his length—she found a rhythm, watching as Glen’s head fell back slightly, his lips parting.

A deep sound rumbled from his chest, a mixture of a groan and a sigh, and the noise sent a jolt of confidence through her. A faint smirk curved her lips as she glanced up at him, her heart fluttering at the sight of him so undone by her touch.

Glen’s head tilted back down, his dark eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that made her stomach flip. “Gabby…” he murmured, his voice rough. “You really don’t have to—”

Before he could finish, Gabby leaned in, her lips brushing against the tip of him as she let her tongue swirl gently over the sensitive skin. The effect was instant—his words cut off by a sharp intake of breath as his hands gripped the edge of the bed for support.

She glanced up at him again, her smirk widening just slightly as she spoke, her voice soft and teasing. “I want to,” she murmured, her tone steady and sure.

Glen’s chest rose and fell rapidly, his jaw clenching as he tried to keep himself grounded. “You’re going to kill me,” he muttered, his voice strained but laced with a hint of humor.

Encouraged by his reaction, Gabby leaned in further, her lips parting as she took him into her mouth, her tongue gliding against him with a slow, deliberate motion.

Gabby’s confidence grew as she moved, her lips and tongue exploring with a mix of curiosity and purpose. She shifted her hand slightly, stroking him with one hand while her mouth teased the sensitive tip. A low, guttural groan escaped Glen, and his hands fisted the bedspread beneath him.

“Just like that,” he murmured, his voice a rough whisper that sent a thrill through her. “Feels so good, baby.”

Her cheeks warmed at the praise, and she responded by taking him a little deeper, her tongue swirling as her movements became more assured. Another deep sound left him, this one longer, more unrestrained, and she couldn’t help the flicker of pride that sparked inside her.

Glen’s gaze, heavy and dark with desire, met hers briefly before his head tipped back again, his breath catching audibly. “You’re... incredible,” he managed, though his words were beginning to falter, his chest rising and falling unevenly.

Encouraged, Gabby let her lips slide down a little further, her hand shifting to match the rhythm of her mouth. She felt the way his thighs tensed beneath her, how his fingers flexed against the bedspread.

“Gabby,” he rasped, his voice breaking slightly. “I—”

He didn’t finish the sentence. Instead, his head fell back completely, exposing the strong column of his neck, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. Words seemed to escape him now, replaced by deep groans and sharp intakes of breath.

As she continued, she felt the way his body began to tremble slightly under her touch, the tension building with each passing moment. She slowed her pace briefly, her tongue trailing softly along him before she took him deeper again, her movements intentional and unhurried.

“God, baby,” he groaned, his voice hoarse and strained, “you’re gonna ruin me.”

His words sent a spark of heat coursing through her, but as she glanced up again, she saw the way his lips parted with silent gasps now, how his head pressed harder into the mattress, his fingers digging into the sheets. He was unraveling beneath her touch, and the realization made her pulse race.

By now, Glen was barely able to form words, the sounds he made raw and unfiltered, filling the space between them. The sight of him this undone—completely at her mercy—only spurred her on.

Glen’s breathing grew heavier, and his body tensed more with each passing moment. His head tipped back, his jaw tightening as he struggled to maintain some semblance of control. He propped himself up on one arm now, his free hand twitching like he didn’t know whether to reach for her or hold himself steady.

“Gabby,” he rasped, his voice a broken whisper, “you don’t have to… you don’t have to finish—”

She lifted her gaze to meet his, her fingers tightening their grip at the base of him as she slowly dragged her tongue along the sensitive underside. His words cut off in a strangled gasp when she flicked her tongue against the soft spot just below the tip.

A deep, guttural groan ripped from his throat, and his hips jerked involuntarily as he came undone. Gabby hummed softly around him, the vibration only intensifying the sensation and making his release all the more overwhelming.

“Fuck, Ga-,” he choked out, his voice wrecked and breathless, his hand gripping the sheets so tightly his knuckles turned white. His head fell back as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through him, leaving him utterly undone beneath her touch.

She stayed with him, letting him ride it out, her movements gentle as she coaxed him through the peak and into the aftershocks. When he finally stilled, his chest heaving with the effort to catch his breath, she pulled back slowly, her lips curling into a small, satisfied smile as she looked up at him.

Glen dropped back onto the bed, his arm flung over his face as he let out a shaky laugh. “You’re gonna be the death of me,” he murmured, his voice still rough around the edges.

Gabby shifted, crawling up the bed with an easy grace. She settled herself on her side next to Glen, her body curving into his as if she belonged there. One of her legs draped lazily over his, and her hand propped her head up as she looked down at him with a smile that was equal parts teasing and tender.

Glen let out a soft sigh, the corners of his mouth quirking upward as he turned his head to meet her gaze. His arm came around her waist instinctively, his fingers tracing slow, absent-minded patterns against her lower back.

“You look ridiculously pleased with yourself,” he said, his tone low and affectionate.

“I am,” she admitted without hesitation, her smile widening. Her free hand reached out, brushing a stray strand of hair from his forehead. “You make it easy to feel...accomplished.”

Glen let out a husky laugh, shaking his head as his eyes softened. “Accomplished? That’s one way to put it.”

Her thumb skimmed over his cheek, and for a moment, neither of them spoke. They simply watched each other, the quiet intimacy between them far louder than any words could be.

“I could stay like this forever,” Gabby murmured eventually, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I like the sound of that,” Glen replied without missing a beat, his hand stilling against her back. His eyes held hers, the weight of his words lingering in the air between them.

Glen’s hand slid from her back to her hip as he turned his head to look at her more fully, a soft smile tugging at his lips. His gaze lingered, warm and unguarded, making Gabby’s cheeks flush under the intensity of it.

“What?” she asked shyly, her voice quiet as her fingers toyed with the hem of the sheet draped across his waist.

“Nothing,” he replied, his smile widening. “I just... I love you.”

Gabby’s breath caught, her chest tightening as his words hung in the air between them. It wasn’t the first time he’d said it, but there was something about the way he said it now—so certain, so genuine—that made her heart stutter.

“I mean it,” Glen continued, his voice soft but steady. “I really love you, Gabby. I love everything about you. And I want you here, with me, as much as possible. When I’m in L.A., I want this to be your place too. I want to come home to you.”

Her eyes widened slightly, and she swallowed hard, forcing a small smile as her fingers stilled against the sheet. “Glen…” she started, but her voice trailed off. She didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to explain the knot of hesitation that formed in her chest.

Glen noticed the shift in her expression immediately. “Talk to me,” he said gently, his thumb brushing small circles against her hip. "Tell me what's going on in that pretty head of yours."

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” she said quickly, her voice wavering as she tried to find the right words. “It’s just… it’s only been, what, two or three months? This is all happening so fast, and I…” She trailed off again, biting her lip and looking away.

“You’re worried we’re moving too fast,” Glen finished for her, his tone calm and understanding.

Gabby hesitated before nodding, her cheeks flushing with guilt. “It’s not that I don’t feel the same way,” she admitted softly. “I do. I just… I don’t want to mess this up by rushing things.”

Glen was quiet for a moment, his hand still resting against her hip. When he spoke, his voice was steady and reassuring. “You’re not going to mess this up, Gabby,” he said firmly. “I know it’s fast, and I know it’s a lot. But I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life. I love you, and I want to build a life with you. “

Her eyes filled with tears, and she blinked them away quickly, nodding as a small, grateful smile spread across her lips.

He smiled against her mouth, his hand slipping up to cup her cheek. “So,” he teased lightly, trying to ease the tension, “does that mean I should stop planning on clearing out closet space for you?”

Gabby laughed softly, resting her forehead against his. “Maybe just hold off for now,” she replied, her voice filled with affection. “But don’t let me stop you from thinking about it.”

Glen chuckled, his hand brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Okay, how about this—we compromise,” he offered. “You don’t have to move in or make it a big thing. Just bring a couple of things. An outfit or two, some basics. Enough to have here when you stay over.”

Gabby tilted her head, giving him a curious look. “You mean like an overnight bag?”

He grinned. “Exactly. A toothbrush, some shampoo, an outfit or two—maybe even pajamas. Nothing permanent, just... a little something so you don’t have to lug a bag back and forth every time.”

She hesitated, mulling over his words. It was a small step, but it felt like a monumental one. Still, the way he framed it, so casual and without pressure, eased some of her apprehension.

“Just enough for a day or two,” she said slowly, testing the words on her tongue.

Glen nodded, his expression warm and patient. “That’s all I’m asking.”

Gabby sighed softly, a small smile creeping across her lips. “Fine,” she said, her tone teasing. “But don’t get any ideas about turning your spare closet into mine. This is strictly practical.”

“I would never dream of it,” Glen replied with a mock-serious expression, though the mischievous glint in his eyes told a different story.

She laughed, leaning forward to kiss him, her nerves beginning to settle. The compromise felt manageable, like dipping a toe into the waters of their future together rather than diving in headfirst.

As she pulled back, she caught the way Glen was looking at her—like she’d just made his entire night. “You’re really happy about this, aren’t you?” she asked, her voice soft.

“You have no idea,” he admitted, his smile widening. He shrugged, his smirk returning. “And I mean I think you technically live here based on the last time you spent the night before we went to Austin.”

Gabby shook her head, a grin spreading across her face. “…you actually remember what I said that morning?”

It took him a second to catch on, but then his smirk deepened. “You mean the time you looked ridiculously cute wrapped up in my bed and refused to get up and declared you officially lived here now? Yeah I remember that.”

Gabby felt her cheeks heat up as she laughed. “Oh my God, I can’t believe you remember that.”

“Of course I do,” Glen said with a wink. “You sounded dead serious at the time, by the way.”

“Only because your bed is ridiculously comfortable,” she countered, though her smile gave away how much the memory meant to her.

“Well,” Glen said, taking her hand and lacing his fingers with hers, “now you don’t have to just pretend. You’re welcome here anytime, Gabs.”

Gabby leaned in, her lips brushing softly against Glen’s in a kiss that started tender but quickly deepened. She shifted closer, her hand sliding up to cup his jaw as his fingers skimmed along her waist. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver down her spine, and before she knew it, Glen was guiding her to straddle his lap.

Her legs settled on either side of him as his hands found her hips, holding her securely. His lips never left hers, the kiss growing more fervent, more consuming, until he finally pulled away, needing to catch his breath.

Glen smiled up at her, his hands still resting on her hips, his eyes filled with an unmistakable affection that made Gabby’s heart flutter. He didn’t say anything, just gazed at her like she was the only thing in the world that mattered.

She raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a teasing smile. “You’ve got to stop looking at me like that,” she said, her voice light, though her cheeks warmed under his adoring gaze.

“Like what?” Glen asked, his smile growing wider, as if he couldn’t help himself.

“Like I’m some kind of angel or something,” she replied, her tone playful but with a hint of shyness.

He chuckled softly, his thumb tracing small circles on her hip. “Maybe that’s because you are.”

Gabby rolled her eyes, though the smile on her face betrayed her attempt at pretending to be unaffected. She leaned down to kiss him again. This time, the kiss was slower, sweeter, as if they were savoring the moment, knowing their time together was limited.

Glen’s hands slid up her back, pulling her closer until their foreheads rested together. Neither of them spoke for a moment, their breaths mingling in the quiet. The weight of his impending departure hung between them, unspoken but palpable.

“I hate leaving you,” Glen murmured, his voice low and tinged with regret. “It feels harder every time.”

Gabby’s fingers threaded into his hair, her touch soft and reassuring. “I know,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “But we’ll figure it out. We always do.”

Her words hit him with a force he didn’t expect, and for a moment, all he could do was look at her—this woman who had somehow become his everything. His thumb brushed along her cheek as he studied her, committing every detail of her face to memory.

“God, I’m crazy about you,” Glen said, the words escaping before he could think to hold them back. “I hope you know that.”

Gabby’s lips curved into a soft smile, and she leaned into his touch. “I think I do,” she said, her tone light but her eyes glimmering with emotion. “And just in case you were wondering—I’m pretty crazy about you too.”

Glen chuckled, though the sound was tinged with emotion. He pulled her into his chest, wrapping his arms around her as if he could hold her close enough to make time stand still. She rested her head against his shoulder, her fingers tracing idle patterns on his chest as they sat there, lost in the quiet comfort of each other.

“I wish I could take you with me,” he said after a while, his voice barely above a murmur.

Gabby shifted slightly in his lap, her hands sliding up to cradle his face. She leaned in, her lips brushing softly against his, her kiss a silent reassurance. When she pulled back, her eyes met his, steady and unwavering.

“I’m here now,” she whispered, her words like a balm to the ache in his chest. “Let’s not waste the time we do have.”

A flicker of something intense passed through Glen’s eyes, and before either of them could say anything more, he kissed her. This time, it wasn’t tender or measured—it was filled with need, a raw hunger that matched the longing they both felt. Gabby responded just as eagerly, her hands tangling in his hair as her body pressed closer to his.

As the kiss deepened, her hips moved instinctively, a slow, subtle shift against him that sent a jolt of heat through his entire body. Glen’s hands tightened on her waist, his grip grounding but filled with desire. The soft sigh she let out against his mouth only spurred him on, his lips moving to her jaw, then to the sensitive spot just below her ear.

As their kisses grew deeper, the space between them seemed to disappear entirely. Gabby’s hips moved again, this time more deliberate, drawing a low groan from Glen that she felt more than heard. His hands returned to her waist, steadying her, though it was clear he wasn’t trying to stop her. Instead, he seemed content to let her take the lead, his gaze burning into hers as if she were the only thing in the world that mattered.

Time seemed to blur, the world outside their little bubble fading away. It wasn’t just about the physical connection—it was the way they fit together so seamlessly, the way every touch, every kiss felt like a promise that no amount of distance could break.

A few hours later, Gabby lay nestled against him, her head resting on his chest, rising and falling with the steady rhythm of his breaths. His arm was wrapped securely around her, his fingers lazily tracing patterns along her bare shoulder. 

They’d lost track of time, caught in a bubble of quiet contentment. The world outside didn’t seem to matter; it was just them, tangled together, their conversation flowing effortlessly between moments of shared laughter and comfortable silence.

Gabby shifted slightly, resting her chin on his chest so she could look up at him. “Do you ever feel like…this is all that really matters?” she asked softly, her voice carrying the kind of vulnerability that only came in moments like this.

Glen looked down at her, his lips curving into a gentle smile. “All the time,” he admitted. “Especially when I’m with you.”

Gabby sighed contentedly, letting her head rest against him again. “You’re going to make it really hard for me to let you leave.”

Glen tightened his hold on her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Trust me, it’s not easy for me either.”

They lay there for a while longer, their voices soft as they talked about nothing and everything all at once. Eventually, Gabby glanced at the clock on the nightstand and groaned. “What time’s your flight again?”

Glen followed her gaze, letting out a quiet sigh. “Soon,” he admitted reluctantly. “I should probably get ready.”

Gabby sat up slightly, pulling the sheets around her. “I guess that means I should too,” she said with a small smile, though her eyes betrayed the reluctance she felt at the thought of their time together coming to an end.

He reached up, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as he looked at her with a mix of affection and regret. “We’ll make this work, Gabby. I promise.”

Her smile grew a little stronger at his words. “I know we will.”

Gabby sat on the edge of Glen’s bed, the crumpled dress from earlier draped over her lap. She held it up, inspecting the fabric with a small frown before glancing toward Glen. “I really don’t want to put this back on,” she admitted, her voice light but laced with the reluctance she felt about the moment slipping away.

Glen, who was standing by the dresser pulling a clean shirt over his head, glanced back at her with a soft chuckle. “The offer still stands, you know. T-shirt and sweats. Might be a little big on you, though.”

Her lips curved into a small smile, the tension in her shoulders easing as she let the dress fall to the floor. “Sold,” she said, standing up and padding over to him.

Glen chuckled as she slipped into the bathroom to change. When she returned, his t-shirt hung loose on her frame, the hem brushing the tops of her thighs, and the sweatpants had to be rolled at the waist several times to fit. She plopped back down onto his bed, pulling her legs up and sitting cross-legged as she watched him finish getting dressed.

Glen was buttoning up his shirt, the movement practiced and casual, but Gabby couldn’t help but take in every detail—the way his hands moved, the way the fabric settled against his chest. He leaned down to grab his jeans from the floor, pulling them on with ease before reaching for his belt.

Her heart ached a little as she realized how much she’d miss him. Five more weeks. Five more weeks of not waking up next to him, not hearing his laugh in person, not having quiet moments like this. But she knew they’d make it through, just like they had before.

“Five weeks,” she said softly, her voice breaking through the quiet as she traced circles on the bedspread with her finger.

Glen glanced over at her, his hands pausing on his belt buckle. “Five weeks is nothing compared to forever, right?” He said, his tone steady, reassuring.

Her cheeks flushed, and she looked down at her hands, unable to stop the smile that tugged at her lips. “Forever, huh?”

He smirked, walking over to her and crouching down so they were eye level. “Yeah,” he said simply, reaching out to brush his thumb against her cheek. “Forever.”

Gabby leaned into his touch for a moment before letting out a soft sigh. “I know we’ve got this,” she said, her voice more confident this time. “It just…sucks. That’s all.”

Glen gave her a small smile and pressed a kiss to her forehead before standing up. “It does suck,” he agreed, grabbing his bag from the corner of the room. “But it’s not forever. And you’ll be so busy with school, you’ll probably barely notice I’m gone.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You think school’s going to keep me so entertained that I’ll forget about you?”

Glen chuckled, hoisting Brisket’s carrier off the floor and glancing down at the tiny dog, who was already dozing inside. “I mean, you’re a full-time college student, Gabby. Papers to write, exams to study for... you’re basically living the dream.”

Gabby snorted, crossing her arms as she leaned against the edge of the bed. “If by ‘the dream,’ you mean sleep deprivation and caffeine addiction, then yeah, sure. Totally living it.”

Glen grinned, his eyes glinting with amusement. “You forgot ramen noodles and midnight existential crises.”

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at her lips. “Wow, you’ve really nailed the college experience, haven’t you? How long were you in school? Two semesters before you started acting full-time?”

“Three,” he corrected, slinging the strap of his bag over his shoulder. “I was practically a veteran by the time I dropped out.”

Gabby laughed softly, shaking her head as she stood and grabbed her own bag. The playful banter helped stave off the heaviness that lingered just beneath the surface, but she could feel it creeping closer with every passing second.

As Glen adjusted Brisket’s carrier, she reached out to smooth the strap of his bag on his shoulder, her hand lingering there for a moment longer than necessary. “I’m just saying,” she murmured, her tone softening, “I’m not exactly going to forget about you, Glen. No matter how busy I get.”

He stilled for a moment, his gaze dropping to meet hers. The smile he gave her this time wasn’t the teasing one from earlier—it was something quieter, more sincere. “I know you won’t,” he said, his voice low.

The air between them shifted, the weight of the impending goodbye settling in. Gabby swallowed hard, forcing herself to smile as she gestured toward the door. “We should probably get going before you miss your flight.”

Glen laughed, the sound breaking through the tension and easing the moment. “Can’t have that,” he agreed, moving toward the door and holding it open for her.

Glen began loading his bag and Brisket’s carrier into the trunk of the waiting car. A second car sat a few feet behind, ready to take Gabby back to her apartment. The sight of it—of the separate paths they were about to take—sent a pang through her chest.

Glen turned to her as he closed the trunk, his expression softening when he saw the tears brimming in her eyes. He took a deep breath, his shoulders rising and falling as if he were steeling himself for what came next.

“Gabby…” His voice was gentle, barely above a whisper as he stepped closer.

She shook her head, a tear slipping down her cheek despite her best efforts to hold it together. “I’m fine,” she said, though the wobble in her voice betrayed her. “I’m fine. I just—”

But she didn’t get to finish. Glen pulled her into his arms, wrapping her in a tight embrace that made it feel, if only for a moment, like everything was going to be okay. She buried her face in his chest, clutching the fabric of his shirt as more tears spilled over.

“Hey,” he murmured, his voice soothing as he rested his chin on top of her head. “It’s going to be okay. We’ve done this before, remember? Five weeks, and then we’re together. You’ll blink, and it’ll be over.”

Gabby let out a shaky laugh, her words muffled against his chest. “You make it sound so easy.”

“It’s going to be hard,” Glen admitted, his arms tightening around her. “But it’s worth it. You’re worth it.”

His words made her heart ache in the best and worst way, and she tilted her head back to look up at him. His expression was tender, his blue eyes filled with a warmth that made it impossible to feel completely broken.

“I hate this part,” she whispered, her voice cracking.

“Me too,” Glen said softly, brushing his thumb across her cheek to wipe away a tear. “But I’ll call you as soon as I land. And we’ll text. And FaceTime. You’re going to get so sick of me, Gabby.”

She managed a small smile, her hands still clutching the front of his shirt. “I could never get sick of you.”

“Good.” 

He leaned down, capturing her lips in a kiss that started slow, like he was savoring every second of it. But as her hands slid up to cup his face, and his arms pulled her closer, the kiss deepened. 

Gabby lost herself in him, in the way his lips moved against hers with a tenderness that made her knees weak and a passion that made her heart ache. Glen’s hands drifted to her waist, holding her to him as if he couldn’t bear to let her go.

The rest of the world faded away. There was no car waiting, no goodbye looming—just them, tangled in a kiss that neither one wanted to end.

It wasn’t until the driver cleared his throat, the sound cutting through the moment, that they broke apart. Glen exhaled heavily, resting his forehead against hers as they both tried to steady their breathing.

“Sorry,” he muttered, shooting a sheepish glance at the driver before turning his attention back to her. “I guess we got carried away.”

Gabby shook her head, her fingers brushing against his cheek. “Don’t apologize,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “Not for that.”

Glen smiled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. The ache of parting was already settling in, but he cupped her face gently, brushing one last kiss to her lips before stepping back.

“I love you,” he said, his voice steady even as his eyes betrayed the emotion he was holding back.

“I love you too,” Gabby whispered.

With one last hug, Glen reluctantly released her and climbed into the car. Gabby stepped back, wrapping her arms around herself as she watched the car pull away. Her own driver stood patiently by the second car, but she didn’t move right away.

She stood there for a moment longer, staring down the empty street, letting the quiet settle around her. Then, with a deep breath, she turned and got into her car, her heart already counting down the days until Glen came back.

[inmyglenpowellera]

Alright guys, I'll go ahead and say what most (mainly me), if not all of us are thinking...

These pictures are giving sexy Jeffrey Dahmer...

Sorry, not sorry. I said what I said.

[honkytonk-hangman]

Just Another Thing – [2]

WALT ‘FINN’ FINNEGAN X READER/OC

Summary: God help anyone who might’ve thought a nice, stable relationship might bring some kind of change to Walt Finnegan’s usual mischief and mild-hedonism. God especially help them if they also thought a girlfriend would provide any sort of calming influence over him.

She definitely influenced him, anyone could tell you that, unfortunately just never in any way that could even remotely be described as 'calm’.

Warnings: cussing, mentions of and talk of sex, sexy body parts, ect. reader/OC is named Kimberly/Kimber, but it is still written in second person and her name shouldn’t come up very often.

Finn wakes with a start, the unfamiliar room around him momentarily sending him down a rabbit hole of confusion and doubt, right up until you walk through the door, which pushes him toward a separate spiralling hole, making him suddenly recall every detail of last night with startling clarity.

When Beverly had said you were the one girl on campus who’d put up with him, he hadn’t expected you to also be the one girl on campus who gave as good as she got behind closed doors, too.

Finn isn’t exactly shy about his sexploits, he’s slept with plenty of women, but generally, even the most enthusiastic ones weren’t exactly the best of lays, if he could be so crass to say. It wasn’t that they were particularly bad or that he didn’t have a good time, it’s more owing to the fact that Finn was somewhat unlike most men his age, in that he had always made a point of educating himself, on many topics, but especially on sex. 

Especially when it involved the many different ways to please a woman.

The girls he’d slept with in the past could say whatever they wanted about him as a person, and they frequently did, but he’d never, not once ever, left a woman unsatisfied. It was important to him, for a reason beyond simple masculine pride that he’d never really bothered to interrogate. 

At the end of the day he could give whatever reason he wanted, he doubts any woman would really care. Ideally, he’d have them too distracted to care. Generally though, his partners were not as well versed, meaning he gave, and he always gave happily, but for the most part he had to take care of his own pleasure, which wasn’t exactly a chore. Hell, that was half the reason he was doing it in the first place.

You on the other hand…

Finn swears he nearly gets rock hard just thinking about you last night, but he has no time to indulge, because in the present moment you’ve appeared as if on cue. He’s not certain you realise he’s awake yet, which mostly works for him. He internally grumbles a little as he catches sight of the time, before quickly shutting his eyes again when you near. He really hadn’t meant to sleep over. He’d planned to be up and out shortly after you’d fallen asleep, as per usual, but in all sincerity, you’d fucked him so damn good, so thoroughly, that he can’t even remember falling asleep in the first place.

Finn can’t help himself as he lies there, hearing you so closely shuffling about, he allows himself to peek at you, simultaneously delighted and regretful when he lays eyes on you.

He shouldn’t be here, stealing glances at you as you dress, he should have stuck to routine and left last night. But you really were amazing, not just in bed, but your flirting, your banter, your honesty, even if it was hard for him to read it as such at first.

Finn trails off then, thinking about how great a time he had with you in only a few hours, and finds himself imagining a whole little scenario where he gets to see you again after this, maybe actually take you on that date he’d promised… it sounded nice, in theory, but Finn writes it off immediately. That wasn’t his bag, and really, who was he to take you out beyond this chance meeting? He wasn’t exactly boyfriend material, and he also wasn’t interested in wasting anyone's time. He didn’t want to do that to you, but more importantly he’s pretty sure he’d get a baseball to the head if he did. Or in the crotch. 

As Finn thinks about how he’d really like to talk to you more, maybe ask about your major, your team, he realises what he’s doing and scrubs all further thoughts out, quickly snapping himself back to reality.

A reality in which maybe the most beautiful, sexy, and clever woman he’d met on campus, or off, is packing up her sports bag for what is likely an 8:00 AM class, something that Finn should also be doing at this very moment, and not childishly pretending to be asleep, resigning himself to being late.

“If the sun is bothering you, I can close the curtains,” your voice rings out then, nearly causing him to jump. That was another thing about you, too, until last night Finn has always had a harsh vendetta against anything that could even remotely be considered ‘honky tonk’ or typically southern, he’d even avoided taking home a girl once or twice solely because her cowboy boots had irritated him so much, only now, all of a sudden he felt nothing but pure, soppy, affection when he hears the extremely thick east Texas twang in your voice.

He firmly believes that only you can make such a heavy drawl sound so delicate and classy. He’s unable to picture you in any kind of small, dinky little town, so instead decides to imagine that you come from one of those hoity-toity neighbourhoods they had up in Dallas, which makes nothing but perfect sense to him.

Finn finds himself hurriedly blinking his eyes open in reaction to your words, before remembering that he’s supposed to be faking sleep to avoid you. You look over at him from your neat little desk, your huge duffle bag now open on your chair, which you appear to be packing several deflated balls into.

He reminds himself that you were on the College’s Volleyball team, something he hadn’t actually known existed until yesterday, but rejoices in the good news by recalling what you looked like at the park in your tight little shorts, your knee and elbow pads somehow really doing it for him. Finn rubs his eyes and groans at the fact he was probably never going to see or speak to you after this, let alone see you in those little shorts again.

“Huh?” he replies dumbly to your question, looking over at the window when you nod to it. He realises that your room might be the worst in the house, with the way the blazing Texas sun is already assaulting every inch of the space.

“I always leave the curtains open on school days, I like waking up with the sun, but I can close them if you want to sleep more?” you explain. Finn shakes himself more awake, the rouse well and truly over now, and awkwardly pulls himself from your admittedly very warm and very comfortable bed.

“Oh, no, don’t worry about it, I’ve gotta get up now anyway,” he tells you, clearing his throat and scratching the back of his neck, already practising avoiding you by refusing to look your way, telling himself it’s for his own good.

You chortle, but shrug and shake your head, before going back to packing your duffle.

Finn lingers uncomfortably next to your bed, now wondering if he had maybe upset you by staying. Not knowing what else to do, he focuses on your duvet, beginning to fiddle with it so your bed at least looked neat, and in the back of his mind, hoping it might help you forget he was ever here in the first place. No such luck, his movement causing you to look up at him properly, dropping a deflated volleyball and waving out a hand to stop him.

“Oh! don’t you worry about that! Those definitely need to go in the wash later,” you inform him, a note of wryness in your voice as you reference last night’s activities. Finn drops his hands away from the blankets at your bequest, also dropping his gaze once more now that you’ve stepped even closer and are focused solely on him.

Your attention makes him aware of his state of undress, only a pair of underwear covering him, and he happily starts to busy himself with collecting his clothes from the floor where he'd tossed them hastily many hours ago, only to find them folded neatly on the window bench. He realises you really must rise with the sun, and wonders how many hours you’d been up already.

“Last night was a lot of fun, by the way. There are definitely far worse ways to soil some good sheets,” you speak up again, a laugh accompanying your heavy accent this time. 

Finn finds he can’t refuse you his attention now that you’re asking for it, forgetting all about evading you as much as he can get away with, instead looking over at you as he dresses. Oddly, he finds his smile is nowhere near as tight or rueful as he feels.

“I’m glad,” he says without much thought, before instantly panicking when your face falls despondently.

“You didn’t enjoy it?” You ask worriedly, the prospect his reply presents clearly upsetting you, but despite telling himself that continuing to engage will only make disengaging even harder, it’s all completely in vain as he hurries to comfort you.

“What? No, no, I definitely enjoyed it,” he assures you quickly, glad when you seem to relax at his affirmation. Still, you seem a little more reserved than before, than you had been last night, which makes his skin itch uncomfortably. “Think I enjoyed it so much my brain is still scrambled,” he goes on, in an effort to stop the prickling sensation.

It works, your face breaking into an endearingly proud grin, shortly before the itching disappears. You chortle a little and give a small shrug, going back to your bag packing.

“Well, I’ve put in a lot of work to have exclusively great sex,” you tell him. “I mean, you can’t expect to spike a volleyball perfectly without practice, so why should sex be any different?” you continue, with another laugh and a shake of your head.

Finn doesn’t know why he feels so surprised at your statement. Maybe it’s just that he’s never heard a woman so casually admit to sleeping around. Then again, if men got to, then why shouldn’t you too?

Beverley could say what she wanted about the way he used discussions around the feminist movement, as well as women’s rights as a whole, just to get laid, but Finn had read all those books she’d sarcastically kept lending him, and he genuinely thought the matter to be worthwhile.

Okay, so sue him if he happens to also on occasion use the very legitimate talking points of women’s sexual liberation in his attempts to pick up women, but it's not like that meant he didn’t really believe in what he was saying!

Finn is about to open his mouth to formulate some kind of a reply when you glance at the time and let out a soft gasp.

“Oh shit, I’m going to be late!” you baulk, quickly pulling the zip of your duffle bag closed and hauling it over your shoulder. “I’ve got to go, feel free to use the shower, just close my door when you leave!” you hurriedly ramble, shoving your feet into a pair of sneakers. Finn is still blinking with his mouth halfway open when you call out a last goodbye and disappear out the door.

He showers, dresses, and is about to leave when he realises he hadn’t closed your door. He considers for a moment, at the bottom of the stairs, just leaving anyway, but he can’t bring himself to do it, so he rushes back up, closes your door with a quiet click, and then at last all but flees from the shared house.

“Noticed you never came home last night,” Dale slides into the seat next to Finn at the lunch table, and wiggles his eyebrows teasingly. Finn simply eyes his friend, and takes another bite of whatever it is the school liked to call food.

“Hooked up with the girl I was talking to all night.” He tells him simply. “Fell asleep after, only got out this morning when she left,” he goes on after another bite. Dale stares at him, a frown pulling over his features.

“So…” he prompts, causing Finn to look up at him again and shrug.

“So what?”

“So why do you sound so troubled? Was it not good? She was hot as hell man, no way it was that bad,” Dale insists, making Finn at last drop his fork to discuss properly.

“No she was good, it’s just…” he trails off and tries to figure out his own soured mood. Normally he’d have no issue talking up such a good night, especially considering you were good, but he can’t help but linger on one tiny little fact. “I don’t know, it’s like, this morning there was no ‘when will I see you again’, no care in the world it was just a one night thing, she’s not like other girls, you know?”

Dale blinks at him like he’s a moron.

“Okay? I’m not seeing your problem here?” he says, frown even deeper now. “Isn’t that perfect?”

Finn balks.

“No! She’s perfect! You don’t get it, I think I want to see her again, this girl is unbelievable!” He protests, sounding mildly desperate but he doesn’t care. He looks away from his friend, and out at the grass. The cafe he’d chosen for lunch sits right opposite the library, and normally he’d have spent his break scoping out the cute girls who’d sit studying under a tree or whatever it is he normally did, but today he’d barely even taken note.

“Man, not you too!” Dale groans in exasperation beside him, quickly digging into his own lunch as if this topic isn’t worth continuing. “First Jake, now you… actually you know what that’s fine, you hook up with that Kimberley chick, leave me with all the other cute girls…”

Finn had stopped listening about halfway through Dale’s tirade, how could he possibly pay attention to it when right there, through the window of the library, he’s spotted you, sitting at a table for four, a stack of books in front of you, your pen writing diligently on some page in front of you.

“You want the rest of my soda?” Finn asks blindly, already getting up. Dale protests, but Finn doesn’t even hear him, simply grabs his lunch tray, places it in the returns bay, and legs it across the grass as fast as he can.

He slows down upon entering the library of course, smooths down his hair, his moustache, grabs the first book he sees, and walks right up to where you sit, pulling out the chair opposite you and flips his book open. Out of the corne rof his eye, when he sees you look up, he looks up too, putting on his best display of ‘surprise’ when he ‘notices’ it’s you.

“Well now, what a coincidence this is!” he says before you can get a word in. You blink at him, but don’t seem annoyed, simply cocking your head in an intrigued manner.

“What a coincidence indeed,” you drawl slowly, placing your pen down. “Thanks for remembering to shut my door,” you go on after a beat where Finn is briefly too awestruck to say anything more. He quickly snaps back though, remembering the clear message you’d sent him last night, how you hadn’t seemed to enjoy his antics more than you enjoyed simply talking to him.

“It’s the least I could do, you know,” he leans across the desk a little to faux whisper. “After such a great night,” he says, rewarded for his efforts when you smile at him. His own smile drops however, when a moment later, you pick up your pen again and look back at the books around you.

“Listen, Finn, I appreciate you coming over to see me and all during your lunch,” busted. “But I really need to study for this paper…”

Finn jolts, wanting to flirt and charm you into paying attention to him, but he reminds himself that you aren’t like most of the girls he’s seen before, and so instead relents, beginning to get up.

“I’m sorry, I should go–”

“–You don’t have to go!” you interrupt him, looking back up. Finn slides back down into his chair like you’ve commanded him. “Just give me another half hour, okay?”

Finn does. He nods, and turns his eyes back down to his book, and for the next thirty minutes he reads about the life cycle of bees. He’s only occasionally distracted by little hums you make, which cause him to look up at you for a minute or two and simply stare. He gets a good look at the pile of books you often swap out and flip through, taking notes, and finds himself again stunned by you in all your sexy, sexy, smart glory. You were studying something to do with physics and space and Finn can’t help but think to himself about all the time he’s wasted seeing anyone but you and despite some of the books you have open having titles containing astronomy, he decides to keep his knowledge of astrology off the table.

Almost exactly thirty minutes have passed when you at last close all your books, including your notepad, place down your pen and look up at him again.

“You know, I didn’t think I’d be seeing you again,” you tell him thoughtfully, looking him in the eyes. Finn opens his mouth but at first no words come out, so he quickly closes it again. He stares at you, you smile back and roll your eyes. “Come on, I know a place we can go, since you didn’t even eat half your lunch…”

Finn dutifully helps you return your stack of books, along with his own, before following you to your car where you promptly drive him off campus to a sweet little diner a block away. Even he’s surprised with how quiet he stays until after you’ve both ordered, he doesn’t even check out the cute waitress as she walks away, too absorbed in staring back at you as you make a hand gesture like you’re ready now.

“What’re you studying?” he asks quickly.

“Astronautical engineering,” you reply. “What are you studying? I didn’t think we had a beekeeping school.”

Finn smiles and shrugs, almost about to launch into a speech about beekeeping and the non-existent classes he took on it, before he stops himself.

“English literature and teaching.” he reveals, feeling a little naked in doing so, but the way your face lights up after he tells you erases any such doubt in his mind.

“You’d be good at that! I bet you’d have no trouble holding a class's attention!” you gush. Finn distinctly feels his face go red.

Over lunch, you ask him about the baseball team, and in return he asks you about your volleyball team. You’re halfway through explaining a recent rule change when you stop and blink up at him.

“Oh you don’t care about volleyball rules,” you say, seemingly bashful at having gone off for the past five minutes about the subject. “I bet you’ve never even watched a women’s sports game and cared about the rules,” you joke. Finn laughs, your statement not untrue, but he won’t go away with you thinking that was still going to be the case from now on.

“Not in the past, but I would if you were playing,” he tells you earnestly, hoping to god you don’t think he’s simply using a line.

You stare at him for a beat before smiling softly again, turning your eyes down at your plate as you do. You place your knife and fork together at an angle and Finn definitely concludes you come from some kind of high society out East.

“I can’t go home with you tonight, it's a school night,” you say, sounding sorry about that fact at least. Finn frowns.

“But it’s a Friday?” he doesn’t mean to push, he doesn’t even care if you go home with him, he’d be okay with genuinely, actually studying with you if that's what it took. You shake your head like you’re reading his thoughts.

“I have a shift at the observatory,” you begin apologetically, before your face once again lights up.

“How about the next time we see each other, we go out then?” you repeat his words from your very first meeting. Finn straightens up, a grin pulling across his features. He liked this game, and unlike the last time, he didn’t have to go away with the feeling that he’s made a mistake, because he can tell by the tone of your voice, one way or another, you intended to see him again.

“Alright Kimberley, it’s a deal.”

[jackiequick]

Jason Underwood being a better dad than Howard Stark for 9 minutes straight | Marvel Fic

Pairings: Tony x Pepper, JJ x Liz, Liane x Ethan

Summary: What happened when a man frozen in time suddenly is in charge of raising the heroes of tomorrow? In other words, Jason trying to keep everyone in check and doing well.

Characters mentioned: Tony Stark, Pepper Potts, Howard Stark, Rei Stark, Ava Stark, The Avengers, Young Avengers and etc

Fandoms: Marvel Comics—> Iron Man 1-3, The Avengers, Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Age Of Ultron

A/N: I blame Glen giving rom-com energy! I hate him (affectionately). His favorite song is Unwritten hehehe

Sequel to this fanfic!

———

————

Tony sat down at his lab downtown with his eyes shot, the lights made him more than pale as he lay inside his car and faced the wall. He has been drinking since this afternoon. His tears filled his eyes as he looked to his side to find his uncle walking around to open the side of the car.

He was surprised to see him here, last he checked he was with Coulson on a small assignment.

“Tony..” He muttered, resting his head against his hand, “Come on buddy.”

“I can’t stand..I’m tired, JJ..” He replied, squeezing his eyes shut and leaned forward into his touch for a spilt second.

“It’s okay, I got you.”

Tony was silent as an arm was looped around his side, lifting him up and out of the car, standing over to leave the lab and head upstairs. Jason kept an eye on him asking if he was alright in which his nephew just nodded. He lay him down on the couch with a soft blanket across his body wrapped tightly to keep him warm.

A moment later, he returned with a small glass of water and some fruit. Orange slices to be consumed by Tony within a matter of minutes. He watched him as he sat, allowing his nephew to rest his head on his shoulder and even saw the crossword puzzle on his neck start to erase with time.

“..I don’t know what’s gotten into me lately…” Tony admitted with a small sigh biting down on another orange slice.

Jason hushed his voice for a moment before humming, “It’s okay..you just got overwhelmed, you need a break, step back and regroup..”

“I’m boyfriend of the year..are Pepper and I even dating?”

“I would like to say you are..you will figure out, just no more running off for a while. Please.”

The brunette only nodded, as his uncle found something on the TV for him to watch. He even wondered if he should provide him a vitamin C infusion, JARVIS recommended it. All that matter was to keep him away for the drinks for a while and not have him stray away from help.

He has a good idea where to start.

~~~

Jason carried a 2 year old Rei in his arms, resting the small brunette on his hip walking around the mansion trying to get him to stop crying.

It was early in the evening. His mother was gone for a week, his father was stuck at work with Pepper and JARVIS was no help.

Rei was whimpering, having just returned from the backyard not wanting anyone to know he got hurt. Jason of course figured out the problem and cleaned up the small mess on his knee. Now he rested his head on his godfather’s shoulder as his hand cuffed the fabric of the sweater.

Him and Tony were the same in this aspect, getting hurt by something and wanting to deal with it by themselves. Yes, it showed independence but still, it was alarmingly obvious it wasn’t the best move.

“Aw penguin..” He said softly, gently resting his head against his own, “Rei, it’s gonna be alright..you’re fine now.”

“It hurts..” He mumbled into his shoulder, as soft tears rose to his eyes.

“I know that it hurts, but you took medicine for it and now you’re going to feel much better I promise.”

“I’m dumb, papa..”

Jason was pacing around the room at this point and paused but kept a hand rubbing circles across his small back. He hated hearing his kids talking about themselves that way.

“Hey, hey, you’re not dumb..you’re Rei Stark, you’re one of the smartest boys I know. You fell cause you’re running so hard, that’s all. It can happen to anyone, even me.” Jason explained.

“You fell?” He questioned removing his head the shoulder he was resting on to face him properly.

“Yeah I fell a lot. I still fall and trip over things, if you only knew how much times I almost died tripping over your father’s toys.”

“Really?!”

“Yeah, really. It hurt a lot, but I got up again. Just like you did.”

At that Rei softly smiled and nodded, feeling a bit better about not feeling so bad for falling down earlier. He was a strong kid but rather sensitive about things whether he admits it or not.

——

———-

“Pops, I think I like guys too now.” Rei blunted said entering the living room of Avengers Tower.

Jason was on the couch reading A Streetcar Named Desire when he heard his godson say those words. He took him a long moment to lock in what he said then smiled. JJ remembered Rei checking out some cute reporter two weeks ago but didn’t say anything to not embarrass him.

He already figured out that he might’ve felt that way but waited for him to come to his own conclusions about it.

Rei waited for a response, he was kinda shitting his pants wondering what the heck he was going to say to him.

A few seconds later Jason spoke, “I know. And I’m happy for you.”

“Wait what?” Rei asked as his eyes silently widened, “Dad freaked out!”

“Your father is just being dramatic, thinking you weren’t going to ever date until your mid twenties. Don’t worry about him. How do you feel?”

“I feel okay, I guess. How are you not freaking out?”

“Kiddo your grandfather and father aren’t straight eariler. I was just wondering to see if you were gonna being home a boy or girl someday, I’ll love you all the same. You know that.”

“B-but..I was ready for some lecture or something.”

“I’m not Cap, kiddo.”

“Wait grandpa wasn’t…that’s impossible he married grandma and dad never said..”

“Your grandfather has always been into blondes. Hence why he liked me, Cap, my sister and your grandmother.”

“Oh shit, grandpa was bi..and so is dad? Just to be clear, you’re cool with all of this, right?”

“Yeah, you’re my kid. As long as you don’t date some ignorant jerk or bitter bitch we’re fine.”

Rei nodded thinking it went better than he thought. Of course he wasn’t going to bring anyone to his house who insulted him or made him feel guilty, he wasn’t stupid.

————

——————

Tony and Jason were in the middle of the kitchen together sharing some slices of pizza. A small mission went as planned, the heroes were all celebrating at home with them.

It was quiet. A little too quiet for his liking.

“Where’s our son?” Yelled a voice that belonged to his wife.

And there it is.

Despite not being officially confirmed as married to a legal counsel, in their hearts they are.

Liz came in with her arms crossed stealing a slice of pizza from the box muttering that she was hungry. Tony locked eyes with his uncle then looked at his aunt with a smile.

“Whatever it is, blame the kids!” Tony exclaimed taking another bite.

“You stole my blueprints from the basement without telling me.” Liz said looking between her nephews and husband.

“How is that a bad thing?”

“Because they are mine. Some of them were…made for the military during the war.”

“I was just going to reinforce them into better positions and transport your idea into something useful for the modern day.”

Jason joined into the conversation as he added, “Honey, you did make some explosive points when you created those fine numbers back in the day.”

Liz jokingly glared, “Who’s side are you on?”

“I’m afraid to say which one.”

“Good answer.”

Tony sighed, “In my defense, I was just curious! It’s not like I going to have something blow up in my head…this time at least.”

“I swear you’re more like your father every day..” She muttered softly smiling, as she pinched the bridge of her nose, “Next time, you come to me with an idea. We’re a family for a reason, you have my brain!”

The three of them talked it over coming to a good compromise. But a part of Jason couldn’t wonder how Liz would react if Louis, Tony’s brother who lived in another city within the United States, stole one of her blueprints too. It was always evident that the Stark boys tend to be the most curious boys alive, it resulted in those sets of brother destroying one of his favorite cars.

They always tend to take a small comment and trickle it down to a roar, as one small idea would turn into something great for humanity or an opportunity gone wrong. That’s how Ultron was created…

———

————-

“Alright. Relax your shoulders a bit, tighten the grip on the handle and have your fingers line up the tip of the arrow.” He instructed with a smile.

“Like this?” She asked, holding up her bow and arrow at an angle.

She could’ve learned from Clint but he was busy on a date with his wife and her mom was babysitting. She already knew how to use a gun, but extra protection in skills was always a plus.

She picked out a specific arrow she wanted to use and took care of the bow she was handed. She questioned if Jason even knew how to work this kind of equipment.

His response, “I never said I didn’t know how to use a gun. And never said I didn’t know how to shoot an arrow either.”

“Fair point. When did you learn to shoot with a bow and arrow?” She wondered with a smile.

“I was on a mission in Tokyo, to chase down some idiot who stole a type of drug. As I was running through the streets, s arrow came flying from a rooftop to straight into the guys leg. Then I met the guy who shot him.”

“What wad his name?”

“Karl Yune. He was a good archer, he taught me a thing or two about this.”

“Sounds like a nice man.”

“Yeah, his older cousin worked as a geneticist in Korea.”

“…they are not related to Ji-Hoon, they are?”

Jason just winked telling her return to training as she grinned softly to herself. The two of them went onto 2 rounds, as he showed her how to start feeling comfortable with holding such equipment. Rochelle wasn’t that bad at the game, shooting the wall full of targets as best as she could.

“Good. Now you’re ready for take on your real teacher.” He said with a chuckle, lowering his bow.

She raised an eyebrow confused by his wording, “What..”

As if on cue, walked in a tan skinned woman with long brown hair and tattoos. She held a grin greeting Jason with a tight hug before turning around to meet Rochelle.

“Lydia Barton.” She said holding out her hand to shake.

The redhead smiled shaking her hand and said, “Rochelle, but you probably already know who I am.”

Jason smirked telling them to be careful and have fun, that he’ll be back to check up on them later. Both girls just grinned leading into a casual but intriguing discussion on their favorite things, before training.

Something told him that they would be good friends.

———-

———————

“Give it back! It’s mine you little twerp!”

“It was mine first! I saw the last batch of cookies before your ass ever thought about them.”

“Oh really mature using curse words at me!”

“What do you care? You’re failing grammar anyway!”

“HEY! That’s enough.” In called Jason’s voice as he swung into the room snatching the cookie out of Ava’s hand and placing against it lips instead, “If you were are gonna fight over a damn cookie, then neither of you deserve to eat it.”

Rei crossed his eyes like the 9 year old he was and scoffed, “It was mine!”

“Oh pleaseeee, you said you didn’t want any cookies in the first place anyway!” Ava barked back.

“I could’ve wanted it for later, ever think of that!”

“You’re such a smartass sometimes…no wonder you don’t—”

Jason glared at both kids, “Ava, don’t even finish that sentence. And Rei, if you wanted it so badly why didn’t you tell her? You two could’ve broken the cookie in half instead of making a mess out of it.”

Both young Starks looked away from their godfather, feeling guilty and embarrassed for causing such a scene in the kitchen. Yet there was an instant anger behind their eyes, as Rei and Ava glared at each other. It was normal for siblings to fight over plenty of things but theses two would argue over everything, not making up afterwards either.

Their godfather sighed softly as he watched both of them in silence waiting for an answer that ever came.

Then he spoke, “You know something? There is something I want both of you to understand. Listen good, when I say that you two only have each other. Friends will come and go, they won’t always stay despite your best efforts. But as siblings, that’s a unit that you created for the moment your brought into this family.”

Ava muttered, “But he’s a little smartass, he thinks he’s always right..”

“Cause I am..” Rei added hearing his big sister.

Jason gave them a certain look as he continued, “You two are young, so you don’t get it right now. But there will come a time when you need each other but because you were both so harsh and pigheaded with another, you’re gonna feel alone. You’ll hate each other..despite a little part of you that still loves them..you don’t want to accept that. Then you won’t even want to imagine what happens next to your relationship.”

At those words, the siblings looked at one another then glanced down at the floor, that heavyweight anger started to creep away from their systems. Ava started to feel sorry for her actions as Rei began to feel upset about staring a riot. They knew he was right but didn’t want to admit it. There was another moment of silence in the room, only the small sound of Jason’s biting down on the cookie that didn’t matter to them anymore. The sibling exchange small gestures of apologies toward one another, even apologizing to their godfather as well.

Ava asked, “Did you ever get into fights with your siblings?”

Rei added, “You and auntie Peg look like you could have fought a lot.”

“Well…” Jason replied with a half smile and shrugged, “..yes, me and aunt Peg fought a lot, but we always tried to make up for our mistakes. But I had another sister before her…her name was Dot, she was smart and cunning, she wasn’t ever around to help me…when she was, she treated me like crap, so we always fought..”

“Did you ever forgive her?” Ava asked out of curiosity, hoping for a good answer.

“Uh..we did forgive each other every once in a while..I tried to forgive her, but she never had the courage to forgive me. She was my big sister, I loved her, but she wasn’t really someone I would call to help me if I was in trouble, she would leave me out to dry..”

Rei nodded, “So that’s why you and auntie Peg are good friends..she was like a sister..so you want me and Ava to be like that too?”

“Exactly. You want both of you to look out for each other, make sure you’re alright and not hurt. Not leave the other in the dust.” Jason responded with a smile.

—————

———————

Cue scenes of Jason playing with his first godchild, Ava Stark, in her bedroom pretending to be Pop Stars. Ava was singing along to Christina Aguilera, Gwen Stefani and Avril Lavigne with a toy guitar in her hands.

Jason was sitting on the floor waving lights around and dressed in a funny hat, pretending to be her producer for a music video. He loved seeing his goddaughter shine acting out magic video footage in her bedroom as he filmed her. At first he didn’t want to be recorded on any cameras but after some encouragement from Tony and the others, she tried it out.

“I'll spread my wings, and I'll learn how to fly. I'll do what it takes 'til I touch the sky. And I'll make a wish, take a chance, make a change.” She sung into her microphone as she played the guitar.

“And break away!” Jason sung along to the lyrics.

--------

One of the things of having a little girl in the house, songs get repeated every so often you remember the lyrics yourself. Poor man still has Under The Sea stuck in his head from last weekend.

It’s one of those things that carries over every generation of children he gets to know is the music taste, he may not always appreciate or enjoy the music but it does tend to become an enjoyable ear worm for him. If it’s AC/DC album from Tony to Selena Gomez’s Who Say from Rochelle, they tend to get stuck in his head!

He tries to not let everyone in on his own playlist of songs but sometimes it will slip out…

Jason just finished a small meeting with the industry and answering questions from SHIELD investors, who just annoyed him the whole time, and decided to make himself a grilled cheese sandwich. He yelled out if anyone else wanted one but received no answer, so he shrugged, then popped in his ear buds cuing in his playlist. He had a bunch of songs.

“Starring at the blank page before you, open up the dirty window. Let the sun illuminate the words that you cannot find…” He sang out to the lyrics slapping both sides of bread onto the frying pan.

That was when Ethan stumbled into the kitchen saying, “JJ you saying some..”.

He paused noticing that the blonde wasn’t listening and singing instead as Liane bumped into him, she exclaimed to her boyfriend something important but Ethan told her to hush as he pointed out the scene in front of them.

Liane was confused for a moment then squeaked seeing Jason singing out loud as he danced in place, it wasn’t something she saw coming but was more than surprised to see the man was in his element. She smirked to herself wondering what other songs he knew.

A couple of days later, the pair were coming back from their trip to the movie theater as that very song was playing on the radio. The two walked in singing it loud enough to hear along with a group of Taylor Swift songs. Before they knew some of the young avengers were humming the damn tune.

The tall blonde walked past hearing his serenity song being sung, raising an eyebrow at everyone’s actions wondering who else knew about this. Oh god he wasn’t gonna be able to live that one down anytime soon.

———

—————

One of the biggest things people always assume is that he was the best parent ever, due to the young avengers always wanting to hang around his chill vibes and warm atmosphere he created.

But the truth is that he wasn’t a freaking super-dad or anything. He grew up with a somewhat rusty alcoholic father and a mother who was always traveling around with her kids, leaving him to pick up the pieces himself when they weren’t at home bricking about something. In response he tried to convince the world he was going to be fine no matter what happened, he even believed it himself.

Jason even promised to make the best he can when he gets the opportunity to be a father himself, in this case an uncle, someone who was there for his kids. He might not know everything or even be skilled at certain aspects of life, but he tries. So when Tony was born he decided he would stick around, live closer to Howard and Maria, but it also meant he would be away for work and signing papers for different aliases. Still, he did it, even though he might not want to talk about it with many.

He keeps himself, cool, calm and composed in collected fashion. Yes, he has his flaws such as drinking, having a temper and smoking (it was for a short period of time, he quit in the early 70s), Jason was still there for Tony. Same thing goes for his godchildren, which is a privilege and gift to watch them grow and learn now, he still has those moments where he ends up not getting enough rest due to taking care of them.

So to Natasha, Tony, Bruce and the other parents he seems like the only well informed and intelligent one when it comes to parenting, it’s only was all due to respect, patience and watching how the ball rolls. He used to put so much pressure on being the awesome uncle and whatnot, then he realized that all you need to do is be there for your kids.

They don’t ask of much, only for you to spend time with them even if you’re far away and need to do a phone call with that. Same thing goes for any relationship romance or platonic, as long they know you’re there for them, that’s what matters.

Like the saying goes, ‘No one is freaking perfect’. He’s still learning how to raise theses guys!

————-

——————

Nicknames. He doesn’t have nicknames for everyone, only if the person is comfortable with them, of course. But that never stops Jason from making up silly nicknames for the kids, usually they come out naturally without even trying.

Tony has had a few nicknames such as Butterball or Meatball when he was a baby, he was a round cubby little guy. Over the years it was Bambino, Bubba, Tones, Bunny and etc.

Rei was always Bubba, Sonny or Penguin, on occasion he would throw out the Papo (which is what him and his grandmother Maria use to call his father when he was younger)

Liane, he absolutely calls Princess or Your Majesty, when she's being a bit bratty

Rochelle tends to be, Li'l Red

For Cassie, he calls her Goldie cause her hair shines bright like gold in the sun

Melissa gets classic nicknames but he will throw out Peaches or Ladybug

Lydia, due to knowing her skills he will call her Sparrow sometime or just Ly

And the list goes on!

~~~~~~~

There has been moments where Jason has took a leap of faith to save his kids. Such as in 2013, when Stark Mansion was attacked and the whole place falling apart he remembered Pepper and Liz's screams as Ava was about to fall off the cliff of their home.

Tony and Rei were busy fighting and trying to get everyone to out of the house safely. But Tony's suit wasn't working correctly either. Jason swooped in, sliding down the rubble and dust coughing as he catches Ava before she can fall.

"Baby look at me! It's okay, I got you.." He said rescuing her, as she clung to him tightly.

The two of them climbed back up the rubble and into the destroyed mansion as Ava went to help the others. The drones just kept on firing and tearing apart the house. Suddenly water took over dunking Jason, Tony, Liz and Rei all down into the ocean as Pepper and the other kids stayed above water.

To say Jason has taken a lot of hits for Tony and the kids was an understatement. For example, that same Christmas in 2013, there a fight on the streets where they landed in after almost drowning, as two crazy bitches was about to attack Rei. Jason choked one of women out as he was stabbed in the side.

The crazy burning women gave Jason some flirty eyes as she did so. He was not pleased. Liz was pissed off having finished fighting some guy to protect Tony.

But she thankfully swoops in wracking the women in a pole as she yelled, "Hands off, bitch!"

~~~~~

~~~~~~~~

He did have good moment as well, that didn't involve a fight (yet), such as 2015 during a Stark party New York City. The Avengers, young and old just finished a battle, as a party was being made to celebrate.

Jason has been in and out of Stark parties over the years, sometimes he stayed the whole night and or times he went home early. This night felt like a good one, he had his girl with him, his friends were partying and the kids were enjoying themselves.

They all deserve a win.

Hell he even danced a bit, drank a beer with Thor and played pool with Sam. He saw Steve walking away for a moment to text some girl, not declaring on who it is he was messaging, despite Nat and the other teasing him.

Nat even muttered, "Oh I'll find out."

It felt good. He rolled his eyes at Tony's jokes and laughed at others. Soon enough, the party died down as everyone rested around the living room area sharing smiles as they all chatted.

Rick has Rochelle and Luna resting on each of his shoulder, Bruce was chatting with Natasha, Maria Hill was wearing Steve's jacket as she chatted with Liz and Liane was playing with a set of cards with Lydia beating her.

Steve and Thor were sharing another bottle of beer, Tony was grab one for himself and Cole was playing Janga with Rochelle. Everyone was there. Beside it held Thor's precious hammer.

"Come man, it's trick!" Clint exclaimed swirling his drumsticks.

"Dude, I tried lifting it once in New Mexico, it's glued to whatever ground it's on!" Jason added pointing to the hammer.

"Whoever shall be worthy shall have the power! Whatever man, it's a trick."

"Really?"

"Yeah!"

Thor smirked chuckling allowing Clint to take a swing at it. Everyone looked around amused of the honest challenge as Clint stood up smug looping his hand around the handle trying to pick it up. But failed dryly chuckling as he joked.

"Smell the silent judgement." Tony remark.

"Please, Stark, by all means." Clint said returning back to his seat next to his blonde friend.

"Oh this gonna be good.." Liz muttered hearing Liane snort at her comment.

Some of the young heroes wiggled their eyebrows, cracking a few jokes and engaging in conversations as they all watched.

Tony stood up muttering how it was all physic and how he planned to use rule Asgard as Bruce rolled his eyes, watching his friend trying but failed. He even returned with an Iron Man arm to help and lift it. Poor Rhodey was pulled into it too.

"Are you even pulling?" Tony exclaimed.

"Just represent. Pull!" Rhodey told him.

"Alright let's go."

Still nothing. Soon enough, almost everyone tried. Rochelle and Cassie gave it a try, as their eyes flashes trying to find the strength to do it. Rei scoffed as him and Rick round came, believing putting both their heads together they can do it.

Bruce pretended to turn like the Hulk as he pulled, causing a roar of chuckles and laugher from the gang. Nat smiled finding it cute shaking her head. Ethan and Ji-Hoon picked up the pace, but failed.

Liane and Cole teamed up to pick the hammer from it's place on the table. Hell, some of the teammates tried to use magic but instead moved the table and items surrounding it.

Liz and Lydia joined forces, taking the team up route. Tony joked how he tried it already but failed. It went on and on for a while, passing drinks and snacks watching the show of friends take their turn at Thor's challenge.

Then it was Cap's turn.

Steve took a swing of beer before getting up with a smile. His eyes narrowed rolling up his sleeves taking a deep breathe, looping his hands around the handle and pulled.

The Hammer Nudge.

It made a small squeaking noise, some eyes turned gasping to themselves and other didn't even catch wind of it quick enough to catch the moment. Thor's eyes widen as his stress level turned up a little thinking it was dreaming. Steve pulled again, as the hammer stayed in place.

Steve raised his hands in air declaring defeat with a small smile. Thor was chuckling as he said, "Ha! Nothing."

Luna and Natasha didn't even bothering knowing it won't work, despite Bruce and Rick nudging them on. They were smart in a way to watch and laugh the whole go on. Not everyone went, some decided to try again after getting some food in their system.

But again nothing.

"All difference to the man who wouldn't be king. It's rigged." Tony proclaimed searching for another beer.

"You bet your ass." Clint added in agreement.

Maria smirked, "Steve, he said a bad language work."

Steve sighed and looked at Tony as he said, "You tell everyone about that?"

Tony ignored his comment and joked, "The handles imprinted right? Like a security code? Whoever is carrying Thor's fingerprint is, the literal translation."

"If so, then Thor's son or daughter should be able to lift it right?" Rochelle questioned which sparked a whole other conversations among themselves.

One of them wondered who exactly can lift and what would it take to do so.

Thor stood up from the couch, putting his drink down as everyone looked at him.

"Yes, yes, that's a very interesting theory. But got a simpler one." Thor said bending down then lifting his hammer with such ease, "You're all not worthy."

Everyone chuckle, commenting on his words and either rolled their eyes at his answer. Some of them shook their heads, exchanging looks with one another.

~~~~~~

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Ahh that's what I got for now!💘 I hope you enjoyed getting to know a little more about Uncle JJ and his group of mishaps he calls children.

Please let me know what you think down below in the comments, any suggests or ideas and etc. ✨ You are more than welcome to write stories involving JJ if you want as well (pls tag me in them!👀)

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