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ahsokaismyqueen · 2 months ago

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Orange Juice Pairing - Tyler Owens x Female!Reader Summary - When it's time to interview a group of storm chasers for your new book, you get sent back to your hometown. You never would have guessed one of the people you'd be interviewing would be your ex boyfriend. And you might still be a little in love with him. Word Count - 13k my god I'm sorry Playlist Warnings - 18+ ONLY. Tyler Smut. Language

Everything looked the same, but somehow different.

You hadn’t stepped foot in this town in ten years, and you were nervous as hell to be here now. This town held a lot of memories and people that you hadn’t visited in a long time. If your agent had told you where you had been going before putting you on the plane, you probably would have asked if there was somewhere else, some other storm chaser group that wasn’t based in Arkansas you could interview. She believed that she was doing a nice thing, surprising you with a trip to your hometown.

You didn’t have the heart to tell her that it may be your hometown, but it also was home to your worst memory.

A sigh left your lips as you pulled up to a familiar gas station, and pushing the memories out of your mind, you put the car in park.

The Tornado Wranglers. That was the group of chasers you would be talking to. Your agent had insisted that they were the best of the best. Apparently they had a very large YouTube following, and their leader was, “charismatic and oozed charm”, according to your agent. He was also the hottest cowboy she’d ever seen.

Those words brought a faint smile to your face, and you pulled out your phone to text her.

Landed, and am currently waiting at the gas station.

A few moments later, a response came through. Any sign of hot cowboys yet?

You let out a laugh. Not yet, but I’ll keep you informed.

Your fingers settled on the door handle. There was no reason to put this off anymore. You were here, and you were going to have to face what was out there, for better or worse. You opened the door and climbed out of your car.

It smelled the same. The gas station had been updated to be more modern, but the faint scent of gasoline and rice from the farms remained. Walking inside, you found little had changed. There was an updated register, a few more products offered, but that was about it. When your eyes caught sight of your favorite candy, a grin spread across your face, and you found yourself reaching for them, even though you hadn’t had them in years.

You didn’t recognize the cashier, which you were grateful for. A part of you had almost expected everyone you knew to pop out of nowhere as soon as your feet touched the ground. Now you realized how ridiculous that was. In fact, you might go this whole trip without setting eyes on a single person from before. Thanking the cashier, you made your way back outside right on time to see a large red truck turning in followed by a camper that was blaring a Tanner Adell song. You couldn’t see the driver of the truck because of the cowboy hat and sunglasses that partially obscured his face, but the guy in the passenger seat recognized you at once. “Hey! That’s her!” You could hear him say it since his window was open.

The guy pulled to a stop, and the one in the passenger seat ran around the front of the car. His hair was dark and shoulder length, but covered with a baseball cap, and the bottom half of his face supported some facial hair. He was dressed much like you expected a tornado chaser to dress, shirt and shorts in different shades of dark green with a bandana around his neck. “Hey, I’m Boone.” He said, holding out his hand for you. “I gotta say, I’m a big fan.” He said the last part in an almost whisper, like he didn’t want anyone else to hear him.

Which, considering you wrote romance books, he probably didn’t. Not the first man to say something similar to you, you nodded with a sincere smile, shaking his hand. “It’s nice to meet you. You guys are the Tornado Wranglers I’m assuming?”

“Yeah, that’s Dexter and Dani.” He said pointing to two people that were exiting the camper behind them. “There’s Lily.” He said, pointing to a girl getting out of another car that you hadn’t even noticed. “And this is our fearless leader, Tyler.”

At that moment, the world around you slowed down. In fact, you were pretty sure all the air was sucked out of your lungs. It couldn’t be him. Out of every person in the world you could be working with, it couldn’t be the one . . . But he took off his cowboy hat, and even though it had been ten years, he was unmistakable. You would know that face anywhere, after all, you saw it all the time in your dreams.

For a moment, you thought he might not recognize you. It had been ten years, you’d both changed in that time, but the moment his eyes landed on you, he knew exactly who you were. He said your name, pure disbelief in his tone as he took a step forward.

You nodded, unsure of how to respond. The two of you hadn’t left on the best of terms, but there were so many years before that. So many beautiful memories that you’d never be able to forget. Half of you wanted to run and hide, the other half (okay maybe more like three fourths) wanted to run into his arms. How could you do that though when you were the one who left?

Tyler didn’t hesitate though. You watched as a slow grin formed on his face that turned into a bright smile, a smile that never failed to make your heart skip a beat, and the next moment he was hurrying towards you. Within seconds you were wrapped up in a hug so tight your feet weren’t even on the ground anymore.

God it felt good. You slid your arms around his neck, hugging him back just as tight, and let out a little laugh as he spun you around. Your eyes closed automatically, and you realized at that moment while you may have written about the way Tyler made you feel, it was nothing compared to the actual emotions. You remembered how his arms always felt like home, and it was no different now. They must have some sort of magic, because no matter how long it had been, they brought your mindset right back to the teenager who was crazy in love with her boyfriend.

After what was probably too long, Tyler put you back on the ground, slowly and a little too intimately for the strangers his team thought you were. In fact, he didn’t even fully let go of you, keeping his hands on your hips. You found yourself unable to let go of him too though, your hands resting on his forearms as he stared at you in disbelief. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

“I can’t believe you’re here.” You said, squeezing his arms. “You’re a storm chaser?” It made perfect sense when you thought about it. Tyler had always had such a good instinct for weather. You couldn’t count the amount of times during school when he told you football games were going to get canceled because it was going to storm. He was never wrong. You just never expected him to quit bull riding.

“Yeah, got a meteorology degree from U of A and everything.” Tyler said, and your breath caught in your throat. Not just because his thumbs had started stroking your hips, but because of his words too.

Tyler had done it. He had done what you had always known he was beyond capable of doing. The shy smile on his face, the love, care, and pride you still, and always would have for him rushed to the surface. Overwhelmed with emotions from the past, you felt tears fill up your eyes as you looked at him. “I’m so proud of you, Ty.” You told him, and you meant every word.

There was no other way to describe it. He was beaming, and god you had forgotten how beautiful that smile was. It was like the sun, almost too bright to look at.

“I get the feeling you two know each other?”

You had forgotten that little aspect of being with Tyler. How everything else would disappear the moment he looked into your eyes. You took a step back from him, letting go of his arms even though every part of your body wanted you to keep touching him. His hands lingered on you for a moment, but then he let go as well. “I guess you could say that.” Tyler said, “this is the girl that broke my heart ten years ago.”

“Wait,” one of the girls, you were pretty sure it was Lily, stepped forward. “I thought that girl’s name was-”

They knew your name. Tyler had talked about you enough that they knew who you were. “That is my name. My writing name is a pseudonym.” You admitted. Heat rushed to your skin, but there was no malice in Tyler’s voice or face. He was just looking at you with a fond smile, as if lost in the same memories you found swirling around in your mind.

“So, you’re a big time writer now, huh? You always did tell the best stories.” Tyler said.

“Man, you should read them. In fact, now that I think about it, one of the main guys kinda reminds me of-” Boone started to say, but you cut him off.

There was no way you were ready for that conversation. “So, um, where did you guys want to talk?” You spoke up, trying to change the subject as subtly as you could.

The look Tyler gave you said he saw right through your bullshit, but he didn’t comment on it, just grinned mischievously at you. “How about Frankie’s?”

Of course he would suggest Frankie’s. It was the bar that the two of you used to go to all the time after rodeos. There were a lot of memories of playing pool, laughing with friends and dancing to whatever band was playing there. While you weren’t sure you were ready for all those memories to hit again, the draw of going back there with Tyler was too much. “Okay,” you agreed. “I’ll meet you guys- ”

“No need for that. You can ride with me.” Tyler said, patting the large red truck.

Being in an enclosed space with your ex boyfriend definitely didn’t seem like a good idea. “Oh, that’s not-”

“It’s really cool. You’ll want to take a peek. He customized it all himself and everything. This baby can drive straight into a tornado.” Boone said while Tyler continued to grin at you.

“Research is what you’re here for right?” Tyler asked you.

Yes. That was a good reminder for yourself. You were here to learn about the essentials of storm chasing for your next book, not to spend all your time thinking about how good Tyler looked after ten years. “Right,” you agreed, and then watched as Tyler walked all the way over to the passenger seat and held it open for you.

“Well, in that case, right this way ma’am.”

————————

To your slight surprise, Tyler kept everything professional in the truck. He showed you all the features, and you couldn’t help but be mesmerized by it all. It was impressive, not only what he had thought of, but had attached himself. “Is this normal? I mean do a lot of storm chasers have vehicles they’ve rigged up?”

“Nothing like this.” He said with pride in his voice as he grinned over at you. “I spent years putting this thing together.”

“When you do something, you always go big.” You teased, smirking at him. “Remember that time in high school when we just wanted to fill the principal's office with ducks, and instead you said we should fill the whole school?”

Tyler scoffed. “Of course I do. I got a month of detention for that because Belinda ratted me out.”

“You did stand her up for a date.” You reminded him.

“Yeah well,” Tyler glanced over at you again. “You needed me.”

Your cheeks heated as the memories of that night flooded your mind. It hadn’t been long after your Dad had passed. You had gotten stupid drunk at a party that he hadn’t wanted to go to. You had been walking home, stumbling home really, when a familiar truck pulled up beside you. It turned out that Tyler had been waiting nearby for at least an hour after feeling like something was off.

He held you in his arms in that truck for hours while you cried, letting out emotions you’d been holding back for months. Then he took you home and snuck into your bedroom to hold you some more. The next morning you told him you didn’t want to be just friends anymore. He told you he hadn’t wanted to be just friends for a long time.

The two of you were inseparable from that moment until the day you left. Almost as if he could sense where your mind was, a palpable tension filled the truck.

You weren’t ready to talk about it though.

Thankfully you were saved from any further discussion as your phone went off with a text. It was from your agent, checking in again.

“Boyfriend?” Tyler asked.

You shot him a look, trying to bite back a smile. “That’s not very subtle of you.”

He sent you a look right back. “Wasn’t trying to be.”

“Agent.” You answered, choosing to ignore his response. “Who I now have to awkwardly tell that the ‘hottest cowboy she’s ever seen’ is actually my ex-boyfriend.”

“So you really had no idea?” Tyler asked.

You shook your head. “Not a clue. I didn’t even know where I was going until I got to the airport and she sent my travel information.”

“Gotta say . . . I’m surprised. I never thought you’d step foot in the town again.” He said, pulling into the small parking lot.

Glancing up at the building, you bit your bottom lip. “I wasn’t sure I would either.”

Frankie’s was exactly what you would picture when you hear the words, “small town bar”, but as soon as you walked in, you couldn’t help but smile at the familiarity. It was big for a small town bar, featuring bars on both sides of the room, plenty of tables, as well as a couple of pool tables, and a stage with a small dancing space in front of it. Most of the furniture was wooden and looking a little rough, but they kept the lighting dim enough that it wasn’t very noticeable. There weren’t a whole lot of people, but there was no band playing, and it was a weekday night. It put you a little more at ease.

“This place hasn’t changed a bit.” You said, looking around.

Tyler shook his head in agreement. “That’s why I love it so much. Feel like I’m right back into my early twenties when I walk back in here.”

“That was a long time ago for you.” You teased.

He clutched his chest, scrunching his eyes at you and giving you a wounded look, but there was a playful edge to it. “Ouch. So you do still have some bite to you.”

You smirked at him. “You bring it out in me.”

Tyler’s frown turned to a grin as he placed his hand on the small of your back, sending chills down your spine. “Let’s grab a booth for everybody.”

The next several hours consisted of you asking the Tornado Wranglers crew every question you wrote down as well as thought of. They not only answered honestly, but never talked down to you like you were stupid for not knowing something either. You loved the relationship that they clearly had with each other. They treated each other like family, with their own strengths and weaknesses that the other members of the team either supported or built upon. You knew immediately it was something you were going to want to include in your book. Not only that, but they were hilarious, and since they knew who you were, they seemed to be ribbing Tyler extra hard.

“All right, you know damn well that was an accident.” Tyler said, pointing a finger at Dexter who was laughing hysterically along with the rest of the table.

“I don’t know, it doesn’t sound like an accident to me Tyler.” You said, raising your eyebrows at the man sitting next to you.

Tyler narrowed his eyes at you and bumped your knee with his under the table. “Now don’t you start.”

“Hey, don’t be rude to our guest.” Dani said.

“Too late for that. He hasn’t even gotten her a drink yet.” Lily spoke up, shaking her head at him in disappointment.

“Oh, you don’t have to-”

Tyler shook his head. “No, they’re right.” He started sliding out of the booth. His hand reached up and gave your shoulder a squeeze. “I’ve got you.”

“I notice he didn’t ask you what you wanted to drink.” Dexter said with a little grin after Tyler made his way to the bar.

You bit your bottom lip. You hoped he remembered. “We’ve known each other a long time.”

“Okay, now that he’s gone.” Boone leaned forward, putting his hands on the table. “One Last Rodeo. Theo. He’s based on Tyler isn’t he?”

Heat rushed to your face. So Boone definitely had read your books. Looking back on it, it was pretty obvious that your first book had been based on Tyler. You were heartbroken, and trying to find a way to get it out on the page. The book was your way of coping with your breakup and how you wished it would have ended instead of the way that it did. By the time someone wanted to actually publish it, you realized how obvious the similarities were, and it was one of the reasons you wanted to write under a fake name. Since Boone had read your book, and now knew that Tyler was your ex . . . It couldn’t have been hard to put together. Still, you couldn’t bring yourself to admit it outloud. “A writer never tells her secrets.” You said.

They were all grinning at you though. “Oh, look how flushed her face is.” Dani said.

“It’s definitely about him.” Lily said.

You opened your mouth to deny it, even though it seemed pointless, but before you could you were interrupted. “Here you go,” he said, sliding back into the booth and putting a glass filled with an orange drink in front of you.

“What is that?” Boone asked, “some kind of tropical-”

“Orange juice.” You answered, smiling over at Tyler. “You did remember.”

Tyler gave you a look of disbelief, like he was insulted. “Of course I did.” When he saw the confused looks of his friends he explained, “she doesn’t drink.”

“Twelve years sober.” You said. “Not something I’m against anyone else doing, it’s just not for me.” Tyler slung his arm over the back side of the booth closest to you, and you had to fight the immediate urge to lean back into his embrace. The rest of the team was smirking at you, and you lifted the glass to your lips to take a sip. “So I’ve just got one more question for you guys.” You said trying to change the subject.

“Fire away.” Dani said.

“Why do you guys do it?” That was what you really wanted to know. “I grew up here. I know how dangerous, how scary these things can be. Why do you guys willingly risk your life for something that seems to have no real reward?”

There was silence around the table for a moment, and you made sure to avoid Tyler’s face. When you had written these questions, you had no clue he was one of the ones you’d be asking, and this question hit a little too close to the reason for your breakup. You didn’t think you could look at him if he answered.

“We like to help.” Lily said. “That’s a factor. We sell these shirts, and we use the money to get people stuff like food and water.”

“Then there’s just the beauty of it. Yes, it’s dangerous and destructive, but there’s also something incredible about it as well. There’s so many factors to tornados we don’t understand. Seeing them come together in person is . . . Indescribable.” Dexter added, while they all nodded their heads in agreement.

“There’s the adrenaline too.” Boone spoke up with a grin. “I’ve never felt more alive than when we’re chasing.”

Your body tensed at his words, memories of your last argument with Tyler trying to invade your mind. Once again, you felt sure he could sense what you were thinking as you felt his gaze on the side of your face.

“It’s hard to put into words without actually seeing it.” Tyler said. “You should come on a chase.”

That made you look at him, your eyes wide in shock that he would even suggest it. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?” Tyler leaned towards you. “Scared?” He asked with a smirk.

“Yes.” You answered honestly.

“Ah, you’d be perfectly safe with Tyler. He’s got a knack for these things.” Boone said, and you looked over at him to find him grinning at the two of you. “You’d barely be in any danger at all.”

You didn’t doubt that, but heading straight into something that could be so destructive had never been your thing. Hell, you hadn’t even gotten on a horse until Tyler talked you into it. “Still, any danger is too much danger for me.”

Tyler shrugged. “The offer is there if you change your mind.” Tyler said, and you knew him well enough to see the flash of disappointment on his face.

Weirdly, you felt a little disappointed in yourself too.

————————

For the past hour, you’d been pacing around your motel room. Tyler had driven you back to your car, then followed you to the motel that funnily enough, him and the rest of the Wranglers were staying at as well. It was the only motel in your hometown, but knowing that Tyler was a few doors down from you made you anxious.

God, seeing him again had been your worst nightmare and best daydream all rolled into one. It was so easy to think that after ten years you were over someone. Then you see them again, and everything comes flooding back. All the beautiful memories and all the mistakes you wish you could take back, and there were a lot of mistakes you wished you could take back with Tyler. You’d never loved anyone the way you loved him, and you didn’t think you ever would. Seeing him again had reminded you of that.

Letting out a sad sigh, you sat down on your bed. Then there was Tyler’s invitation and disappointment. You hated disappointing him almost as much as you hated disappointing yourself. It had taken several years of therapy and hard work to not be so scared of ending up with the same fate as your father. You had grown though. You had learned about yourself and the things that caused those reactions. While getting close to a tornado was definitely dangerous, you knew that Tyler would take care of you. You also knew that you didn’t want to miss out on any more experiences in your life because you were afraid.

You stood up, not allowing yourself another moment to try and talk yourself out of it, and left your room, knocking at the one three doors down.

Tyler answered, clad in his white t-shirt and jeans, and smiled when he realized it was you. “Hey, what’s up?”

Good lord was there ever a moment when this man didn’t look incredible? You swallowed, then nodded. “I changed my mind.”

He leaned against the doorway, eyebrows raised in confusion. “About what?”

You took a deep breath. “I wanna go on a chase.”

Tyler beamed.

————————

It took three days for a storm to come through that Tyler felt good about. They had done some chasing in that time, but Tyler hadn’t brought you along because he said they hadn’t been the “right one”. The wait made you anxious, but you trusted Tyler’s instincts, and every night they were back at the motel ready to tell you about their day. You thought that they might eventually get bored of all your questions, but they were not only great, but amazing storytellers as well. You could see why their YouTube channel was so popular.

Not that you spent a whole day watching it while they were gone or anything.

Finally though, the day arrived and you found yourself standing outside by Tyler’s truck waiting for the team to join you, your heart pumping a little faster than normal. “Morning!” A voice called, pulling your attention away from inspecting Tyler’s truck again, and you saw the man in question heading towards you with a paper sack in one hand and an iced coffee in the other. “Haven’t talked yourself out of this yet?”

You shook your head. “Nope. I’m doing this.” You smiled as Tyler handed you the coffee and bag. “Did you seriously get-?”

“Your breakfast sandwich and coffee? Yes, you need fuel for the road.” Tyler used his now free hands to open the door for you. “Hop on in, and let’s get going.”

“Wait,” you said, glancing around. “Is everyone else meeting us there?”

Tyler leaned against the door, and you watched as he looked at the sky behind you, then turned his gaze back to you. “Nah, I gave them the day off. I didn’t want you to have to deal with pressure from them if we get there and you decide not to do this.”

You bit your lip. He was always so thoughtful. Back when he knew you, he would have had to drag you to this truck kicking and screaming, which he never would, and the fact that he wanted to save you some embarrassment in case you decided not to do this was just like him. Unable to help yourself, you reached out and gave his hand a squeeze. “Thank you.” You said sincerely.

“Well,” you inhaled sharply as Tyler took a little step closer to you. “I’ve got to admit, getting you alone for the day also played a factor.”

Your eyes widened and a shy smile formed on your face even while your mind was spinning. Over the past few days there had been brief moments where you thought Tyler might have been flirting with you, but you talked yourself out of it. Now though . . . Was there actually a chance this man still wanted you? He couldn’t. Not after how you had treated him. It didn’t make sense. “You might end up regretting that, you know?” You told him.

Tyler reached up, and your whole body froze as he brushed some hair behind your ear. “I’ve never regretted a moment I’ve been with you.”

His response took the breath from your lungs. “Ty . . .” You didn’t know what to say. Your heart was beating so fast it hurt. How could he possibly not regret that night? The night that you broke his heart?

“I’ve missed you calling me that, you know?” He smiled at you, and then took a step back. “Come on, let’s get going.”

Once again, you wanted to say something, but what? Nothing sounded right in your mind. So instead you hopped up in the truck and watched as he closed the door behind you.

————————

“Can I be honest?” You asked him several hours later.

“I didn’t realize you ever weren’t.” Tyler joked, sending you a smirk.

You swatted at him playfully. “I didn’t expect all the waiting. What happens if nothing comes?”

“Oh, something’s gonna happen.” He insisted, looking at some clouds in the distance. “Don’t you have any faith in me?”

While he was kidding, you didn’t stop the serious words that slipped past your lips. “You know I have all the faith in the world in you.”

Ty’s smile turned from something joking to something genuine. “Even after all these years?”

You smiled at him. “It never stopped. I always knew you were destined for great things.” You admitted, and it was the truth. In fact, you’d never been more sure of anything in your life.

“Just not riding on the back of a bull.” He replied, and though he winked at you, the mention of one of the reasons from your breakup filled the air with tension.

Then the question that you had been dying to ask since you first saw him burst from your lips. “Why did you quit?”

Tyler looked at you then, and you knew that look well. He was reading your expression, your eyes, your body language. He’d always been able to tell what you were thinking simply by looking at you, and this time was no different. “It wasn’t because of you.” He said, reaching over to place his hand on top of yours and giving it a gentle squeeze. “I mean, you were part of the reason, but it was more about me realizing you were right, and I could do more with my life.”

He knew you had been carrying that guilt of wondering if you were the reason he quit something that he had loved so much. He told you that you weren’t, but you still frowned, looking out at the darkening sky miles away. “I wish I’d said it differently.”

There was silence for a moment as you two watched the storm, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It felt more reflective, and your thoughts were only confirmed when he spoke up. “Do you ever wonder where we’d be now? If you’d stayed?”

If only he knew . . . “I guess that depends.” You bumped your shoulder against his. “Would you have proposed by now?” You teased, but a part of you wanted to know the answer.

Tyler grinned at you, an adoring look on his face. “Oh definitely.”

A flush heated up your face as a pleased smile fell on your lips. “Then I guess we’d be married and driving each other crazy.”

“Not to mention being driven crazy by the kids.” Tyler added.

You let out a laugh. “After ten years, you still want three kids?”

“Three is a good number.” He defended.

You rolled your eyes. “You know I have this friend now. She just had her fourth. Going over to her house almost makes me not want any at all.”

“That’s because she has four. Three, perfect number.” Tyler said, holding up three fingers. “Four?” He added a finger. “Now that’s just asking for trouble.”

“Especially if they were your kids.” You added, grinning over at him.

“Ah, we could handle them.” Tyler said with a wink in your direction.

A vision formed in your mind of what he was describing. Three kids, all of varying ages, but in your mind it was two boys and one girl. The boys would be almost an exact copy of Tyler, blonde hair and blue-green eyes, dimples and charming smiles. Troublemakers, but also sweethearts who cared deeply and loved life to the fullest. Then the little girl. She definitely had a majority of your features but with Tyler’s smile. She would have Tyler so wrapped around her finger it would almost be embarrassing. Then there’d be Tyler and you, watching all the craziness unfold from your back porch with a glass of sweet tea in your hands. You were happy. You were loved, and you were home.

At that moment, you realized you never wanted anything so badly in your life. You wanted it so badly your chest literally ached with it. Looking over at Tyler made it hurt worse. You thought being away from him would make the love you had fade, but it turned out, the opposite had occurred. In fact, seeing him watch the sky with a content smile and talking about what could have been made you realize you loved him more now. You had loved him in high school, you’d loved him in his early twenties, but this was different. You were different and so was he.

The question was . . . Would he take you back if you tried? You knew you didn’t deserve it. You were the reason the two of you broke up. If you were in his shoes, you didn’t think you could forgive yourself. Tyler had always been a better person than you though.

Was it worth a shot trying?

“Hey,” Tyler pulled you out of your thoughts, lifting your hand and pointing it to something in the distance. “Do you see those clouds?”

You looked out to where he was pointing your hand and frowned. Those definitely looked dark, and they were . . . “Are those spinning?”

“That’s the updraft, and it’s cycling.” He told you.

“And that means . . .”

“That means-” Tyler stood up, put his baseball cap back on his head, and held out his hand to help you off the bed of his truck. “We’ve got a winner.”

————————

You were going to throw up. At least it felt like you were. Not five minutes after you guys reached the storm did a tornado touchdown. Tyler said it was rated for an EF1, so it would be safe to drive into. Well, as safe as driving into a tornado could be. As fast as your heart was pounding, and as sick as you felt you might be, you leaned forward to get a better look out the window. You couldn’t deny the beauty in it. “I’ve never seen something so amazing and scary at the same time.” You admitted.

“It’s incredible isn’t it?”

As nervous as you were, the look on Tyler’s face made you smile. God you hadn’t seen him this excited since he had been on the back of a bull. “It is. Especially when it doesn’t look like it’s going to kill me.”

Tyler laughed, and he pulled to a stop. “Nah, this is just an EF 1. This and the truck are going to keep you completely safe.” Tyler said, reaching to tug at the harness he had secured so tightly to your body that you felt like you couldn’t take a deep breath.

As you watched the tornado race forward, you felt your heart rate start to kick back up and took a deep breath. “And you too right?” You asked, biting your bottom lip.

He parked the truck and faced you, a rare serious expression crossing his face. “You know I wouldn’t let anything happen to you.”

At that moment, you realized you did. Tyler would never willingly put you in danger. He cared about you too much. If he said it was safe, it was. “I do.” You agreed, taking a deep breath, well, as much as you could in this harness. “Let’s do this.”

The grin came back to his face full force as he started pressing buttons on his truck, anchoring it down into the ground as the tornado got closer and closer. “You’re gonna love this.”

”Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.” Even though you knew you were safe, there was nothing quite like a tornado heading straight towards you while you’re stuck in place. “Tyler . . . This is crazy.”

It was getting closer and closer. Only yards away, and your heart was pounding harder and harder in your chest. You didn’t even think. Your hand reached for his, gripping it tightly as the tornado hit the truck.

Tyler gave your hand a reassuring squeeze, “look up.” He called over the wind, and you did as he asked, leaning towards your side of the car to see out the window.

It was the most incredible thing you’d ever seen. You could see all the way up the funnel to the clouds above as the vortex passed over you. You’d never seen anything like it in your life, and a laugh of disbelief left your lips as you watched it pass over you. When it was done you looked over at Tyler, shock all over your face. “Was that real? Did that actually just happen? Did I just see inside a damn tornado?!”

Letting out a chuckle at your questions, Tyler nodded. “You sure as hell did.”

You let out another laugh yourself and started unbuckling all of your straps. You needed one last look to convince yourself that you had done it. Once you were free, you hopped out of the truck, running around the back to watch it keep going through the field behind you. You heard the truck door close again, but you didn’t turn around, still mesmerized, until you felt Tyler’s hand on your shoulder.

“So, how do you feel?” He asked.

His question was loaded for so many reasons. Years ago, he never would have gotten you close enough to even see a tornado, much less let it speed over you. You were so proud of yourself for doing this, but also sad. How many other life experiences had you missed because of how your father’s life choices had traumatized you? There was no good way to answer his question, so you just did what you wanted to. You jumped up, latching your arms around his neck, and your legs around his waist.

Of course he caught you easily, laughing as he spun you around and held you close. One of his hands rested on your back, while the other cradled your head against his shoulder. After a moment, he let out a content sigh. “I’m so proud of you.”

You clutched tighter to him. He had no idea how much those words meant coming from him. Tyler had seen you at your absolute worst, when you had no one but him. You had clung to him then, leaning on him more than was healthy until you knew that you couldn’t anymore. It made you want to cry, knowing how far you had come and that Tyler could see it. You pulled back to look at him so he could see your watery smile too. “I’m proud of myself.”

The butterflies in your stomach were doing somersaults as he looked at you. His fingers tightened in your hair, and you felt his arm muscles tense against your back. There was tension in the air, no doubt about it, and you found your eyes drawn to those familiar soft lips. You wanted to kiss him. A part of you wondered if it would be the same, or even better because you both were older. You weren’t sure, but either way, you wanted to find out. When you saw his eyes glance at your lips too, you knew he was thinking the same thing. Unable to help yourself, you let your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling yourself the slightest bit closer to him until your noses were brushing.

Then his phone rang.

Whatever spell the two of you had been under broke. Tyler slowly let you down to the ground, but reached for your hand, tangling your fingers with his and keeping you close. “Hey, Boone, what’s up?”

You glanced down at your hands with a soft smile. Tyler’s hands were big and calloused from work and bulls, but they felt nice. You brushed your thumb on the outside of his palm, and he gave your hand a squeeze.

“Yeah, we got one. She handled it like a pro.” Tyler told him, grinning over at you. There was a bit of silence for a moment as the phone conversation continued. “Let me ask her, and I’ll let you know? All right, sounds good. I’ll see you soon.” He hung up the phone and tugged you a little closer again. “Feel like celebrating seeing inside your first tornado?” Tyler asked.

————————

Three hours later you found yourself in new clothes, freshly showered, line dancing between Dani and Boone. You were almost crying from laughing so hard, and your face hurt from smiling so much. It blew your mind that two weeks ago you were sitting in your apartment in South Carolina feeling alone and stuck with writer's block. Now you were back in your hometown, having a blast, writing faster than you had in years, and desperate to get back together with the man who was watching you from the booth, an adorable smile on his face. Feeling a little bold after your almost kiss, you sent him a wink as Boone spun you around, causing his smile to widen.

“You guys are disgustingly cute.” Dani said as the song slowed down and the three of you started to exit the floor.

Heat rushed to your face, and you found yourself asking the question you’d been wanting to ask for days. “Why have you guys been so nice to me anyway? Tyler’s your best friend, and I’m his ex. I broke his heart, but you’ve been nothing but kind to me since the start.”

Boone and Dani exchanged a look. “Yeah, you’re right. If it had been another one of Tyler’s exes we probably would hate you.” Boone said, shrugging his shoulders.

“But you were the one who got away for Tyler, and he’s never said anything but great things about you. Plus,” Dani reached out and patted your shoulder. “It's kinda obvious the two of you are still in love with each other.”

The words hit you like a truck, and then you felt stupid for not realizing it before. You looked at the man sitting at the booth again. This time he was talking to Dexter, his expression animated, and his hands moving wildly with his words. Of course you still loved him. You never stopped. You buried it, hid from it so you could try to better yourself. When you left, you knew you weren’t good enough for him, you probably still weren’t, but now you knew you could love him like you were supposed to. If he was open to it. Boone and Dani made it seem like he was. He had given you signs that he was at least interested . . . The only question was how could you show him that you wanted it too?

An idea hit, and a small smile formed on your face. “I’ll catch up with you guys in a minute okay?” You said to their confused faces and headed to the DJ stand. You gave him twenty bucks, which he gladly took, and promised your song would be next. By the time you’d made it back to the booth where everyone was seated, Never Leave by Bailey Zimmerman was playing.

You approached Tyler, who was looking at you curiously as you held your hand out to him. “Dance with me?” You said, biting your bottom lip.

A surprised, but happy smile formed on his face. “Yes ma’am.”

It was not your and Tyler’s first dance. Probably wasn’t even your hundredth, and dancing with him was as effortless as remembering how to ride a bike. One of his hands rested on the small of your back while the other took yours. You placed your hand on his bicep, giving his arm a squeeze. You didn’t want to say anything. The lyrics of the song could do all the talking for you. Tyler led you around the floor with ease, and as the song went on, you could see the moment the words started to sink in. He leaned forward, his forehead pressing against yours, and he whispered your name so reverently it made you close your eyes.

“Just listen,” you said softly, tightening your grip on his hand, letting the song say the words you wanted to. Tyler’s arm pulled you even closer until it was almost hard to dance, your bodies pressed against each other. Your heart was pounding so hard you were sure he could feel it against his chest, but you didn’t care anymore. You were laying it all out there now.

As the song ended, you felt Tyler’s lips against your forehead, soft and lingering. Warmth exploded throughout your body, and you pulled back to look up at him.

“Come back to the hotel with me?” You asked, your thumb caressing his arm, almost pleading with your voice.

Tyler’s hand reached up to cup your cheek, and you immediately leaned into his touch, your whole body craving it. “Are you sure?” He asked.

You nodded. There was nothing you were more sure about right now.

He took a step back from you, grabbing your hand and tugging you back to the booth where everybody else was sitting with knowing eyes. He told them that the two of you were leaving. You tried to ignore them, but you couldn’t help but grin when you saw them giving you a thumbs up or silently cheering as Tyler had his back turned.

The ride was quiet, but it wasn’t uncomfortable, it was more filled with tension, and the two of you kept glancing at each other and smiling. He never let go of your hand either until he parked at the motel and came around to open your door. Before you could get down though, he stopped you. “This is what you want right? I don’t want to misinterpret what I think is happening here or pressure you in any way-”

You placed your hands on his face and leaned closer, interrupting him with your first kiss in ten years.

For a moment, he didn’t respond. It was clear you had surprised him, but then his hands gripped your hips, and he was kissing you back.

It was even better than you remembered. It had been good back in late high school and your early twenties, there was no doubt about it. Something about now was different though. Maybe it was because you were older, maybe it was because it had been so long, or maybe it was because you felt healed. Whatever it was, kissing Tyler now blew every kiss you’d had before out of the water.

It was a short kiss, chaste, just to reassure him that you did want him, but when you pulled away the two of you were still breathless. “Am I crazy or was that incredible?” You asked, your hands sliding down his face to his chest.

Tyler laughed, but nodded, his own hands dragging down your thighs and resting on your knees. “It was,” he replied, but then a smirk fell on his lips, “but we can do better.”

Not one minute later, you were trying to open the door to your room, Tyler’s large hand low on your stomach as his lips left soft kisses on your neck from behind. You could barely concentrate as heat pooled where his hand rested, and you could not get the key in the door as he kissed a certain spot on your neck. “Ty,” you said through an exasperated laugh. “If you keep doing that I’ll never get us in this room.”

He took the key from your hand, but didn’t stop kissing your neck. You closed your eyes in pleasure as he did, letting him take over the door situation, and in a frustratingly short amount of time, you heard the door knob turn. Your eyes snapped open, turning in Tyler’s arms to find him smirking at you again.

“How the hell did you do that so easily?” You asked, weaving your arms around his neck as he carefully backed you into the room.

He shrugged, shutting the door behind him. “Guess you were just too distracted to focus.”

You playfully glared at him, “I was not-” but you let out a gasp as he suddenly spun you around, pinning you to the door with his body.

He didn’t say anything for a moment, just smiling at you as his hands rested on your hips, his thumbs brushing under your shirt to touch heated skin. “You were, but it’s okay. I liked it.”

Well he had certainly become more confident in the years apart. Not that he ever wasn’t, but you could definitely tell a difference. However, you had gained a little bit of confidence too, and you smirked at him. “Oh, I can tell.” You replied, pushing your hips forward to press against the hardness you felt.

Tyler bit his lip at your movements, his hands gripping your hips harder. “We don’t have to do anything. I want you to know that.”

It drove you crazy, how he could go from being sexy and confident to sweet and respectful within a minute. You slid your arms up his chest and around his neck, tugging his head down to yours. “I want to.” You told him. “Do you?”

He let out a breathless chuckle, “You have no idea how badly I want to.” Tyler said, “I’ve wanted to since the moment I saw you at that gas station.” He told you, his nose brushing against yours.

Tyler had been wanting to get together with you for that long? Your heart started thumping wildly in your chest, and you let out a sigh as his warm hand slipped up the back of your shirt pressing you against him. “You know, I don’t look the same as I did ten years ago.” You admitted, a little bit of insecurity leaking out as you thought about the last time the two of you were together.

He shook his head, and his hands left a trail of heat as they slid down your back to grip your thighs. “You look better.”

Your hands slipped into his soft hair. “Now, I know that’s not true.”

You let out a nose of surprise as Tyler used his grip on your thighs to lift you into the air with his body, smirking up at you. “I think you’re forgetting . . .” His lips found a spot on your neck that he had always kissed, a spot that made chills explode over your body and made a soft moan leave your lips. “I know this body better than anyone.” He whispered in your ear.

Tyler was right. He had been with you more than anyone else, seen every part of you bare. So what if you didn’t look the same as you did in high school. You were sure he didn’t either. Based on what you felt against your body though, you didn’t think that was a bad thing. You let your hands trail from his hair down his neck and to his chest, noting how his body flexed under your touch. “I think I might need a refresher on yours.” You teased, biting your lip as you played with the buttons on his shirt.

He raised his eyebrows, a smirk on his lips. “Oh, is that what you need?”

With fingers that were much steadier than what you felt, you unbuttoned a couple of the top buttons from his shirt. It wasn’t much, but enough to slip your hands into and touch his heated skin. It was the first time you had touched him, really touched him, in so long, and it made you ache for so much more. You pressed your forehead against his, “Right now I need everything you’re willing to give me.” You admitted honestly.

“Well then,” Tyler’s hands slid down to your ass, holding you close as he started carrying you to the bed. “It’s a good thing I’m willing to give you everything.” He said as he placed you gently on the bed.

His words made your heart stop for a second and a huge swell of affection for him filled your heart. You wanted to tell him that you still loved him then. That you wanted to give him everything too. The words wouldn’t come though. Not yet anyway.

So instead, you tried to say them with a kiss. You sat up, grabbing his face in your hands, and tugged him down to meet your lips. The first time you had surprised him, and it took him a moment to respond. That was not the case this time. He kissed you back at once, moving your lips in a dance the two of you knew well. While the first kiss had been sweet, this one was full of passion and tenderness. You let out a little sigh when his lips parted and attempted to pull him closer. It had been so long since you had gotten to really touch him, and you didn’t want to waste another second not doing it.

He complied, climbing into the bed on top of you, settling between your thighs and letting out a strangled groan as you pushed your hips up into him. He pressed his own against yours and you let out your own moan at the delicious friction.

The sound made him pull away however, and you frowned, since that was the opposite of what you wanted right now. You watched him as he sat up, his gaze traveling over your body with such intensity you could feel your face heating up. Tyler’s hands rested on your stomach finally, tugging up your tank top so slowly it made you want to just yank it off yourself so his hands could be all over you. Waiting turned out to be worth it though, because as soon as your shirt was off, he started kissing down your neck. Your eyes closed as his lips went lower, and you arched your chest against his mouth as he got closer to one of the spots you wanted his mouth the most.

“Have you been with other guys?”

That made your eyes snap open. Those were not the words you expected to come out of his mouth when he was about two seconds away from putting his mouth around you. “W-What?” You said breathlessly.

But he didn’t seem upset or anything, just genuinely curious. In fact he was grinning at you, his hands resting on your bare hips. “It’s been ten years. You have, right?”

“Is now really the time for the, ‘how many people have you slept with since me?’ conversation?” You asked, raising your eyebrows at him.

Tyler leaned down, pressing his lower body against yours again as his lips hovered over yours. “I don’t care about the number.” He said, shaking his head. “I just want you to know I’m about to kiss the memory of anyone else from your body.”

His words took your breath from your lungs, but you tried not to let him see how much they affected you. Your arms slipped around his neck, fingers sliding into his hair. “You’re talking a lot of game for someone who hasn’t initiated a single kiss.” You teased.

He chuckled,close enough that his lips brushed yours for the briefest moment. “Isn’t it better if you have to wait for it?”

A soft smile fell on your face then as you ran your fingers through his hair. “Ty, you haven’t kissed me in ten years. Haven’t we waited long enough?”

He leaned back so he could look at your face, smiling at the look you were giving him. “Yeah. I think we have.”

Finally, he leaned forward and kissed you, setting your whole body on fire with the intensity of it. Your lips parted almost immediately, and his tongue slipped into your mouth, exploring you thoroughly. His hands did the same, heat trailing after them everywhere he touched.

You knew then, as the two of you kissed and your body, and heart, felt close to combustion, that this was it for you. You had been with other men in your time apart, and none of them had ever come close to making you feel like this. Back when you and Tyler had first started dating, you thought he might have been the one, but now you were sure. So no matter what happened tomorrow, or even after that, you knew that Tyler Owens was going to be it for you.

To your shock and surprise, you didn’t find that scary at all.

A breathless sigh left your lips as he slowly pulled away, and he smiled down at you, brushing some hair out of your face. “God you’re beautiful.”

You had always remembered what he was like in bed, how sweet he could be, but hearing it again was a different story. He had always made you feel so comfortable and sexy, you were so glad to know that none of that had changed. “I missed you.” You blurted out, heat rushing to your face at the confession.

But his smile just widened, leaning down to press a kiss against your jaw. “You’ve got no idea . . .” He started kissing down your neck again. “How much I’ve missed you,” he said, and you couldn’t help but squirm a little as he kissed down your stomach, your breath coming a little faster as his kisses got lower and lower. Your hands tangled into his hair, biting your bottom lip and arching up into his hand as he started unbuttoning your jeans.

You lifted your hips as he slid your jeans and underwear down the rest of your body, casting them aside somewhere in the room. You didn’t really care where. Tyler kissed back up your body, pausing for a moment on your bra, the last article of clothing you were wearing. After giving him an encouraging nod, he unclasped it, tossing it somewhere too, leaving you completely naked.

He stared at you, and you felt heat following everywhere his gaze went. His gaze didn’t make you uncomfortable though, it made you feel . . . Desirable. While his eyes looked you over, your eyes watched his face, biting your lip as your hands slid up and down his arms. “You know you’re wearing too many clothes.”

Tyler grinned down at you. “You wanna help with that?”

You sat up then, returning his smile. “I would love to.” You took your time, slowly unbuttoning his shirt and taking in every bit of skin that was revealed. Tyler had been fit when the two of you were dating, but now? He looked like he’d come straight out of a magazine. Once his shirt was unbuttoned, you let your hands trail down his chest as you leaned forward to press a kiss to his neck. You felt his whole body relax as your hands slid back up his hard muscles to push his shirt off him, and you trailed your lips across his shoulder and down his arm.

As soon as his shirt was off him, you made your way back up his arm, pressing gentle kisses every few inches until you reached his face again. He was smiling at you, and you couldn’t help but press a peck against his lips, then another until he had his arms wrapped tightly around you, holding you against his warm chest. Letting out a sigh, you kept your forehead against his for a second, soaking the moment in.

“I never thought we’d be here again.” Tyler said, shaking his head as his hand dragged up and down your bare back.

“Me either.” You admitted, letting one of your hands comb through his soft blonde hair, “but I’m glad we are.”

Tyler didn’t say anything, but leaned forward to meet you in a kiss that said everything he needed to. It told you how much he missed you, the familiarity of his lips moving in rhythm with yours. It told you how badly he wanted you when his tongue slipped into your mouth to caress your own. Then his lips weren’t the only thing showing how much he cared as he gently laid you down on the bed, never letting your lips disconnect.

It was illogical, but you hoped his lips never left you again. You were drowning, no, floating in him, submerged but safe in the warmth of him as his body laid on top of yours. Your legs automatically wrapped around his hips, and a moan left your lips as the two of you came into contact.

Tyler pulled away then, but he didn’t go far, leaving kisses down your chin and neck. “You keep making noises like that, and this is not going to last as long as I want it to.”

You let out a breathless laugh, tugging at his hair. “The noises are your fault, Owens. You’re the one with no-” you let out a gasp as his lips found your breast, pleasure burning straight to your core. “-Self control.” You panted.

He gave your nipple a gentle bite, causing you to whimper, before he pulled away to look up at you. “Sorry, what was that about self control?” Tyler asked with a smirk playing on his lips.

“That you have none.” You said, arching your hips up to rub against him for a moment, making him groan against your skin. “But I don’t think I have any either when it comes to you.”

His smirk turned into a smile, and his lips found your breast again, immediately shooting even more pleasure through your body.

Nobody really talks about what it’s like to have sex with someone you used to date years ago. Tyler knew your body so well, he knew exactly how you liked to be touched, and what spots would drive you crazy. It was so easy to fall back into it. On top of that though, the two of you had been with other people in the last few years, and you had more experience and confidence than the kids you used to be.

There was no hesitation in Tyler’s hands as they explored your body, and none in yours as one dragged down his back and the other tangled in his hair, holding him against you. You let out another moan as his hand moved from your inner thigh and a finger slid inside of you.

He let out another groan as he discovered how wet you were, and leaned up to press his forehead against yours as he added a second finger in. “Are you already ready for me, sweetheart?”

You nodded, bumping your nose against his. “Do you have a condom? I wasn’t anticipating-”

“Having sex with your ex-boyfriend in a motel room?” Tyler grinned as he reached into the back pocket of the jeans you forget he was still wearing and pulled out his wallet, reaching in to take out a condom. “Guess it’s a good thing I’m always prepared.” He said with a smirk.

You rolled your eyes playfully, but secretly you’d never been more thankful. If the two of you had to stop now to run out and buy condoms, you might’ve lost your mind. You slid your hands down his well defined chest, biting your lip at the muscles you felt there before stopping to rest on the belt of his jeans. “You’re still wearing too many clothes though.” You reminded him.

“Weren’t you supposed to be helping me with that?” He asked, raising an eyebrow at you.

Narrowing your eyes at him, you started undoing his belt. “It’s not my fault you distracted me with how hot you are.”

He laughed, moving your hands out of the way to get his jeans off faster. “Why do you think I got your clothes off so fast? Can’t get distracted if they’re already off.”

“Guess I’ll just have to remember that for next time.” You teased, sliding your hands back up his chest to rest on his shoulders. It was only when his body froze that you realized what you said. The two of you stared at each other, and you had no clue what to say about your implication of a next time. You didn’t even know if he’d want a next time . . .

Tyler didn’t let the moment linger though. He shoved the rest of his clothes off and leaned down to kiss you, hard, and all consuming in a way that erased every thought from your head except how much you needed him. Your legs wrapped around his waist, and you let out a gasp as your hips came into contact.

You had forgotten how big he was.

Almost as if sensing your thoughts, he pulled away slowly from your lips, barely leaving a centimeter between them as his finger trailed up and down your slit for a moment. “You can take it. You’ve done it before.” He whispered, and then slipped three fingers inside of you. The sudden intrusion sent your nails digging into his shoulders and heat exploding across your body. “If you can take that, you can take me.” He assured you, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

He was going to ruin you. Part of you thought he already had, since every other time you’d had sex, he was always on your mind, but now you were sure of it. Nobody was ever going to get you more turned on than Tyler Owens. You nodded, because it seemed like he was waiting for an acknowledgment, and attempted to pull him closer with your legs when his fingers slid out of you. “It’s just - it’s been a while.” You admitted.

Tyler gave you a gentle smile. “For me too.”

His words shocked you for a second, but then you realized they shouldn’t have. Tyler had never been a one night stand kinda guy. As confident as he was, even before the two of you had started dating, he’d only ever dated girls he felt a genuine connection with. The fact that he still felt that with you enough to want to do this had emotions clogging up your throat. You let your hands trail down his body again, taking the condom from his hand and slipping it on him, your gaze never leaving his face as you enjoyed the sight of his reaction to you touching him. “Then let’s not wait anymore.” You said, guiding him towards you.

He didn’t need any more encouragement. He pressed forward, and you let out a sigh as he slipped inside of you, your head falling back against the pillow. It was a tight fit, there was no doubt, but he moved slowly, showing, once again, how well he knew your body. Any time you tensed up, he paused, though you could feel by how tense his muscles were how much he was holding back. “That’s right,” he would tell you when your breath started to come faster. “Remember how well you take me?”

Oh God you did. He fit inside of you like no one else. Even years later he filled you up just enough to not be painful, but more than enough to be satisfying. Another gasp of air left your lips as he pushed more inside of you, and you could tell he was almost completely in.

“You’re doing such a good job.” Tyler said, leaving another kiss against your skin. “Made just for me.” And while his voice was soft, it was also strained from effort.

You opened your eyes as you felt him push forward again, and dug your nails into where they had rested on his shoulders once more as he pushed completely inside of you, letting out a sigh of pleasure as he did.

There was nothing like this. Absolutely nothing. You moved your eyes from the ceiling to find him looking at you like you’d just hung each star in the sky for him alone. “Tell me what you’re thinking.” He said breathlessly.

Did he really expect you to be able to think right now? You couldn’t think enough to have a filter if you opened your mouth, and you knew that was partially what he wanted. So you let the words slip from your lips. “I’m thinking about how no ones ever felt as good as you do.” He rewarded your words with a little thrust of his hips that had you gasping. “I’m thinking about how you’ve ruined me for anyone else.” Another thrust, this one harder, and you tightened your legs around him. “And I’m thinking about how much I missed you, Ty.” You said softly, letting out a whimper as his hand slid up to your breast, cupping it and letting his thumb caress your nipple.

He didn’t say anything for a moment. Just watching as your hips jerked against his, desperate for the pleasure only he could provide, his eyes locked on your face as if he was committing it to memory. “Would you believe me if I told you I was thinking about all those things too?”

You didn’t have to think about it. You nodded, moving your hands from his shoulders to tangle in his hair. “I know.”

Tyler leaned down to meet your lips in a bruising kiss as he thrust inside of you, starting a slow and steady pace that continued to pick up speed with every passing minute until you couldn’t keep up the kiss any longer. Your head fell back against the pillows, and your eyes closed in pleasure as his warm, calloused hand traveled down your body to where the two of you met. “Eyes on me sweetheart.” He said, and pressed his thumb against your clit.

“Fuck, Ty!” Your eyes snapped open and your chest arched into his, tugging on his hair at the overstimulating sensation. His hips stuttered for a moment as you felt yourself clench around him, but he kept up the movement of his thumb, tracing circles around it. The pleasure was almost too much. You could feel it building inside of you, desperate for release, and you clung tightly to him. “I can’t- I’m-” You couldn’t even get the words out, too overwhelmed with feelings.

“It’s okay, you can let go.” He said, “I’ve got you.” He assured you, never ceasing his pace or his finger.

His words triggered your release, almost as if you’d been waiting for permission and you moaned out his name as it washed over you. You clung to him like he was a liferaft, holding you in above water as you clenched around him. You heard him groan your name, saying how good you were, and within seconds you felt his body tense, falling over the edge with you.

As the pleasure faded from your body to satisfaction, you didn’t want to let him go and groaned in discontent when he pulled back and out of you. He chuckled and leaned down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “I’ll be right back.”

You sighed, opening your eyes as you watched him head into the bathroom, unable to believe that you had just had sex with such an attractive man, even if he was your ex. He was more than an attractive man though, or just your ex. He was Tyler. The boy you gave your heart to ten years ago who never gave it back. A tender smile was on your lips as he came back to you with a damp washcloth and started gently cleaning you up.

“You okay?” He asked, the hand that wasn’t cleaning you up resting on your thigh and rubbing the skin there.

“I will be once you get back in bed.” You replied, and your smile widened at the pleased expression on his face. You let out a laugh as he tossed the washcloth aside and hurriedly climbed into bed, spooning you against his back.

He nuzzled into your neck, leaving kisses against your skin as he made himself comfortable against you, and shivers exploded across your body as his hand rested on your stomach. “Comfortable?” Tyler asked, pressing another kiss to your cheek.

Being in his arms again? Comfortable didn’t even begin to describe it. As cliche and embarrassing as it sounded, for the first time since you’d come to your hometown, you actually felt like you were home. “Perfect,” you replied, scooting back even more into him.

And you meant it.

————————

You woke up cold, but oh so satisfied. Part of you wondered if last night had been a dream, but you knew that your body couldn’t lie like that. You definitely had the post sex ache. You stretched your limbs out and rolled over, wanting to curl back into Tyler and maybe sleep for a few more hours, but you were met with nothing but sheets.

Frowning, you opened your eyes, letting your fingers drag across the fabric. It was cool, so he’d been gone for a while. It was only when your eyes drifted up to the pillow did you notice the scrap of paper.

Stay.

It was written quickly, almost as if an afterthought, and you frowned at it. Did he really think that he had to ask? You got out of bed, and found a tshirt in the floor. Slipping on your underwear and the tshirt, you sat down at the small table and grabbed your laptop. You’d been writing like crazy lately on a new book, and you’d definitely woken up feeling inspired this morning.

You weren’t sure how long you sat there typing. It was a great distraction from your thoughts, and when you got into the zone, it could be hours before you realized you hadn’t stood up from your chair. You weren’t so in the zone though that you didn’t hear the doorknob start to turn.

Tyler entered, once again looking entirely too good in his dark brown button down, jeans and cowboy hat. He carried a familiar brown bag and cup of iced coffee in his hand and held a cautious smile as he looked at you. “Brought you some breakfast.”

You held out your hands to take it from him, eagerly sipping at the iced coffee as he sat down at the seat across from you. “Thank you, I needed this.” You said, leaning back against your chair. He was watching you, that cautious look still on his face making you nervous. Was he regretting last night? Was he trying to figure out the polite way to tell you it had all been a mistake?

“What are you thinking?” He asked, and the sudden question threw you off, you didn’t even have the chance to think about throwing up a filter.

“I’m thinking that I hope you’re not regretting last night. I’m also thinking that you’re too far away.” You admitted, frowning at the distance between the two of you.

His whole body seemed to relax at your words and the smile that you knew and loved fell back onto his face. He held out his hand to you, and without hesitation you took it, returning his smile as he tugged you out of your chair to sit sideways across his lap. You buried your face in his neck, letting out a contented sigh as he wrapped his arms around you, and held you close. “Better?” Tyler asked, one of his hands tracing up and down your outer thigh.

You nodded, tightening your arms around him. “Much better.”

The two of you sat in silence for a few moments. You knew the conversation that needed to be had, but you had no clue how to even begin to start it. Should you blurt out how you feel? Should you ask him how he was feeling? Tyler beat you to the punch though with a statement that stopped your mind in its tracks.

“I read your book.”

Your body froze as your brain took a moment to process his words. Once they did, heat rushed to your face, and you pulled away to look at him. “How did you even-”

“Boone. He gave me a copy pretty much right after you showed up.” He said, and his hand gave your thigh a squeeze. “I noticed some . . . Similarities.”

You bet he did. More than enough to be embarrassing. You bit your lip, knowing the question that he wanted to ask, and decided to go ahead and give him the option to ask it anyway. “What do you want to know?” You finally said.

For a moment it wasn’t the new Tyler that you’d been getting to know over the past couple of weeks that was looking at you. The confident, caring, intelligent tornado wrangler. It was young Tyler, the bull rider who wanted nothing more than to ride his fears and bring you along for it. “I guess I’m just wondering why they got their happy ending, and we didn’t.”

Just because you anticipated it, doesn’t mean it hurt any less. “Ty . . .” You placed your hand on top of his, gripping it in yours. “I wrote that book two years after our breakup. I wasn’t ready to be her then. There were . . .” You took a deep breath. “A lot of things I was still holding onto.”

“But if I had quit when you asked me to-”

You were shaking your head before he could even finish his sentence. “I never should have asked you to do that.” You let go of his hand to take his face in your hands to encourage him to keep his eyes on you. “Tyler, our breakup had absolutely everything to do with me, and nothing to do with you.” This confession had been sitting on the tip of your tongue for years now, and you finally had the courage to say it. “I looked at you, riding those bulls, and all I could see was my dad. It scared me.” You admitted, caressing his cheek with your thumb. “Drunk, constantly concussed, and soon to be dead either from one or the other. I know that’s not you now, and I should’ve known it back then, but I was too damaged.”

Tyler looked sad, his hand still caressing your skin. “I would have fought for you.”

“I know.” You said, and you did. You knew that Tyler would have fought to stay by your side until the end if you hadn’t pushed him away.

“You were everything to me back then.”

God it hurt. Remembering the look on his face when you had walked out that door. You still had nightmares about it, but like you had struggled to learn, there was nothing you could do about it now. The two of you sat there for a moment before you finally got the courage to ask the question you’d been wanting to. “What about now?” You asked. “Think we can make it?”

A small, disbelieving smile formed on his face. “Is that an option?”

You nodded. “At least I hope it is. That ball’s in your court Tyler Owens. I’m the one that broke your heart.” You said, sliding a hand down to rest over his heart. “So . . . is that an option?” You asked, biting your lip as your heart started thumping heavily against your chest. God what if you’d just said all that and spent the best night of your life with him for Tyler to say it wasn’t worth the risk? That’d you’d done damage beyond repair?

Tyler didn’t give you time for your thoughts to get any more out of control. “Oh, it’s definitely an option.” He said, and his bright smile had your heart fluttering. “In fact, I’d say it’s my preferred option.”

You could barely believe it, even after last night. “You really want to give me a second chance?” You asked in disbelief.

His smile turned soft, and his hand covered your own on his chest. “Sweetheart, I’d give you all the chances in the world.”

And then, because you didn’t know what else to say, you leaned forward and kissed him.

Once again, everything was the same, but somehow different. A better different.

#tyler owens #tyler owens x reader #tyler owens x you #tyler owens imagine #twisters imagine

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rottenaero · 6 months ago

Text

They were gonna put Eddie down like a damn dog.

The group had insisted that Steve visit the hospital today, one year and two months after the incident. It was a random day, and he thought, ‘ why the hell not?’

Family Video had been closed for months, doing ‘ repairs’, so he really didn’t have much else to do.

He thought it was weird, the way the group was as far away from the bed as possible, and how when he entered the room, Hopper almost blocked the exit.

He doesn’t question it though, sidling up to the open chair beside Eddie, who was still asleep after all this time, and punching his shoulder lightly.

“ Hey, Hero.”

He’d taken to calling it sleeping instead of what it was, a coma. Sleeping sounded more peaceful, because with sleeping came dreams and relaxation.

Eddie doesn’t respond, doesn’t react. Steve didn’t expect him to.

He turns his head to Dustin, the one who’d called him in the first place. “ So, why’re we gathered here today? Any updates?” He asks, addressing the whole room.

The boy swallows, and something tells him something’s wrong. Really wrong.

“ Yeah, actually. Uhm, since it’s been so long, we were thinking-“ He cuts himself off, crosses his arms and starts tapping his foot. Thinking, probably.

Hopper glances to him, and sighs, deciding to lead. “ We’re gonna have to let Munson go.” He states.

Steve takes a sharp breath.

“ What?”

‘ Let him go’ like this is a job. Like this isn’t him losing his life. He wonders when they decided to do this, in the hospital room for the ten minutes they were waiting.

Eddie doesn’t give any indication he hears what’s being said, the beeps from the heart monitor still steady and even as ever. A constant metronome of the exact same sound on the exact say beat, all the time, always.

Except maybe not always.

Dustin takes over again, arms placating. “ It’s been a really long time, Steve. We’ve come to terms that he probably won’t wake up, and it’s doesn’t have to be sad-“

“ You’re killing him.” He hisses, “ You’re killing him and it’s not meant to be sad?”

Nancy steps forward, seeing it as her time to speak. “ Steve. You barely knew the guy, and you spend all your time here, it’s not good for you.”

“ There’s been no good signs, no nothing, not even when El looks into his brain.” Dustin nods at the girl across the room, who’s fiddling with her fingers.

Steve furrows his brow, “ Oh, so I guess you’re gonna pull the plug on Max too?”

Lucas’s eyes widen, mouth dropping open, and Nancy glares. “ That is not fair, Steve.”

“ This whole situations pretty fucking unfair, so I guess you’re gonna have to explain to me how this is different from Max.” He stands, stance wide as he points to the man in the hospital bed.

“ Max is making progress.” Lucas says weakly, and El sets a hand on his shoulder. The boy deflates.

He turns toward Hopper and Joyce, the latter still not having spoken. The Byers family had moved back to Indiana for God knows what reason, and Steve knows that if he had the money, that he could’ve moved somewhere else long ago.

“ Does Wayne know you’re killing his kid?” He asks.

He’d met the man while visiting, and they’d usually sit in silence and watch baseball or whatever was on. He never questioned why Steve was there, or why he was holding a limp body’s hand and taking off it’s rings and putting them back on.

When they did speak, it was stories he had from Eddie’s childhood, about how he buzzed his head because a spider crawled on him and he was convinced it was hidden in his hair, making babies.

Hopper pinched his nose, like he was being a pest. “ Stop using words like killing, and yes. He said he didn’t want Eddie to have to suffer, and his bills are getting expensive.”

And he blinks, realization dawning.

This hadn’t just been decided, had it? This wasn’t a ten minute decision while Steve was getting ready to come here.

He speaks, his voice low and keeping even through each word, “ You guys had a meeting.” The ‘ without me’ goes unsaid, but still echoes throughout the room like if would’ve if he shouted it.

They’d decided this whole thing beforehand, somehow knowing that Steve would hang on. And he would, will. He can’t let him die, he can’t lose.

Will nods, and next to him Mike and Dustin look ashamed. He would’ve thought they’d hold out more.

He racks his brain for any reason they should keep alive, can’t find one. Somehow, even without one for them, he has a million for himself.

“ If the bills are the reason, I’ll pay the damn bills. He’s fucking alive.” He tries.

“ You don’t have a job, Family Video is closed. Just let it be, Steve. Please.” Robin had been eerily quiet during this entire conversation, and it brings him chills him when she speaks.

His best friend had been in on it.

He crosses his arms, “ I’ll get a job. Listen, I’ve been having dreams,-“ He lies. He lies because there’s nothing true to prove Eddie is getting better. “-dreams that he’s alive in like a dark space, I don’t know- his mind maybe? I just- I really think he’s in there.”

The hope Dustin gets on his face hurts, but he doesn’t care. The guy will wake up and it won’t matter that the ‘ dreams’ never existed.

Maybe it’s because he’s an optimist, and that’s why he’s trying so hard, as pessimistic as he can be sometimes.

“ Why didn’t you tell us?” Dustin asks and Steve licks his lips.

Why didn’t he tell them? “ Despite all this crazy shit, me having dreams that he’s alive still sounds crazy.” He doesn’t look at the boy as he says this, eyes roaming over Eddie’s face.

He looks serene, the bat bite on his face as healed as it can get. The doctors had mentioned swelling on his back shoulder blades, but Steve thinks his would be swollen too if he sat on them for a year.

‘ A year and two months.’ He corrects himself.

He stares at the hair that, occasionally when it got matted, Steve would go through and brush it, not wanting him to wake up to being bald because a doctor seemed it necessary.

Wayne mentioned how much he hated the shaved head, and he wouldn’t put him through that again.

As he looks at him, he thinks ‘ I’m doing this for you, so you better wake up, asshole.’

Dustin’s eyes are wide, staring at the members of Hellfire. Steve could only describe the look as ecstatic.

“ Holy shit, I mean, holy shit!” He laughs, and Mike breaks into his own grin.

Jonathan chimes in, disbelief sketched into the lines all over his face. “ Sorry, but doesn’t that seem too convenient? I’m not saying you’re lying Steve, just… If El didn’t find anything, that’s pretty much it.”

His lips form into a line, determined. “ I told you, I’ll be paying for whatever. It’s no skin off your back, or money out of Wayne’s pockets.”

Joyce nudges Hopper when he goes to speak, and nods at Steve. “ If you wanna try, sweetheart, you can. But I don’t want you visiting too much, it’s doing you more harm than good.” She wraps him in a hug, before leading the ex-chief of police out of the room.

Slowly, everyone vacates, until it’s just Steve, Eddie, and El.

She doesn’t make a move toward the door, eyes locked onto his face.

“ You’re lying.” She whispers like a secret.

He nods.

She looks toward Eddie, nervous, and she messes with the hem of her shirt when she starts to speak again. “ I lied too.”

She doesn’t elaborate, walking out of the room without anymore information, and Steve blinks.

The hospital has to call Wayne to confirm the transfer, that's how he learns of the circumstances. He doesn't say much of anything, aside from a promise of a visit on Tuesday before he hangs up.

That night, that same fucking night, he gets a call.

It's the front desk lady, voice distressed rushing through an explanation.

" Eddies gone...Only blood in his bed...We don't know where he is."

Steve stares at the wall, the rest of the words falling upon deaf ears.

Someone had probably found out where he was being held, murdered him a year later for his crimes, and stashed the body away.

He sets the phone back in its holster without saying anything to the other line. Not even a goodbye, or a thanks.

He thinks, it only for a second, that he should've let them just pull the plug, it would've been far less painful.

A creaking brings him out of it, and his eyes dart to his door.

It's dark, too dark, and Steve's aware the Upside Down fucked him up in incomprehensible ways, and now every shadow looks like something,

But there was definitely someone in his house.

He keeps slumped on his bed, the same position as when he'd answered the call. He doesn't flinch when the door pushes open enough for a body to slip in.

There's the sound of something dragging along the carpet as they come closer, probably a shotgun, or maybe they're gonna beat him with his own nail-bat.

He doesn't care to decipher the shape, instead shutting his eyes.

A hand grabs his, sets it on dry skin. His thumb touches a rough patch, a scar like feeling.

One his hands had roamed over while patching up his stomach, refusing to get looked at. That concave patch of scratchy skin that they tell you eventually will just be soft, scarred, but normal.

The skin stretches, and he feels a cheek.

Somehow, he thinks if he keeps his eyes shut, he doesn't have to face the thing in front of him, that it somehow isn't real.

A scratchy, disused, and croaky voice sounds out.

" ' Hey, Hero.' "

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #eddie munson x steve harrington #steve harrington x eddie munson #camazotz eddie munson #rottenaero #rottenaero rots #rottenaero writes #steddie drabble

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likeumeanit9497 · 6 months ago

Text

please baby | c. s. |

chris sturniolo x fem!reader

summary: chris and y/n have always had what felt like a perfect relationship. that is, until a few weeks ago. chris had been treating y/n poorly, and after one especially hurtful conversation, she is forced to make a difficult decision. when chris comes to the realization that he is about to lose it all, will he swallow his pride and do what he needs to win her back?

warnings: established relationship; smut; angst; fighting; (relatively) toxic chris; crying; unprotected sex; fluff; 18+

notes: based on this request by 🎀. i've never rlly written an angsty fic before, so let me know what u all think! also wrote this super quick so i don't think it's my best work, but still i hope u enjoy <333

ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ

Through tears, I stared blankly at my phone. My eyes had been glued to my lit up screen for the past two minutes — unmoving, and unable to register what I was reading. Even with blurry vision, Chris’ last message to me was seared into my memory.

Chris: Ffs Y/n, just shut up. I said I’ll get there when i get there jesus.

Just as my brimmed tears finally spilled over, so did the water I was boiling on the stove. The immediate steam and sizzling noises pulled me from my phone, and frustrated for more than one reason, I raced over to the stove and shoved the pot off of the element; leaving the boiling pasta noodles to sit in the water. Just looking at my failed attempt at dinner brought on a new level of pain, as it was a reminder of what I hoped that the night could be.

Chris, my boyfriend of almost one year, was supposed to be coming over tonight. I had been super excited, because both of our schedules had been especially busy lately and we hadn’t been able to spend much time together over the past three weeks, plus I had some good news to share with him about my work. I had wanted to make the night special, so I had decided to cook one of Chris’ favourite meals — chicken alfredo — to surprise him with once he arrived.

He was currently stuck at the warehouse for a merch meeting with Nick, Matt, and his manager, and he had told me that he would come over and spend the night once he was done there. That was a few hours ago, and I had been patiently waiting for an update from him until about thirty minutes ago, when I sent him a simple message asking if he had any idea when he would be done at the warehouse. Little did I know, that singular message would cause a massive storm to erupt.

Y/n: hey babe! just wondering if you have an idea on when you can come over?

Chris: Not rlly sure

Y/n: okay…rough estimate maybe?

Y/n: just have some things i need to get done before u get here hehe

Chris: I’ll get there when I get there.

Y/n: uh..is something wrong?

Chris: No why

Y/n: ur being kinda mean???

Chris: No I’m not

Y/n: ok

Chris: My god Y/n I don’t have time for this rn

Y/n: i just said ok

Y/n: you go ahead and go back to your meeting

Y/n: i was just asking for an update, that’s all.

Y/n: didn’t realize that was such a horrible thing.

Chris: Ffs Y/n, just shut up. I said I’ll get there when i get there jesus.

Even though I hate to admit it, this wasn’t the first time that Chris had been an absolute asshole to me lately. Just last week, he had started a fight that ended with him hanging up the phone on me; only to call back a little while later to apologize. And then a few days before that, he had put zero effort into making time for me when I had tried to make plans for us to go to the movies. And during all of this, he has been incredibly dry over messages. It had been bothering me for a while now, because to me it was clear that he was losing interest. I knew that our relationship would be far from perfect going in to it, considering Chris had never been in a real relationship before me, but deep down I hoped that it would always be as perfect as it was at the beginning. Unfortunately for my hopes and dreams, his actions — or lack thereof — were shattering.

I wasn’t some oblivious girlfriend either; it was clear to me that Chris was going through something. I knew that for a fact, but every time I tried to get him to open up to me about it all, he shut me down with lame excuses: “Oh, I’m just tired,” or, “I’ve just been stressed lately”. I figured that he just needed time, and that eventually he would come to me and explain exactly what had been going on so that I could help him through it.

But now, after his hurtful words to me tonight, I was seriously considering my other options. I had been in far too many toxic relationships in the past, and had learned that I deserve more than what I had been accepting. I wouldn’t let myself be Chris’ punching bag anymore, and I knew right then and there that I had an incredibly painful task to do.

Allowing myself to be overtaken by my build up of tears, I slowly walked into my bedroom; turning off the lights and covering myself with my comforter. My shoulders heaved as I let the tears stream down my face; my brain accepting what I needed to do but my body rejecting it in every way possible. Through the tears, I pulled out my phone and sent a quick text to Chris — telling him that I was tired and that he might as well not come at all tonight, but we should talk tomorrow — before curling into a ball and wallowing in my own sorrows.

I stayed in the exact same position for what felt like ages; allowing myself to get all of the emotions out now so that when I had to do what I had to do tomorrow I could do so without breaking down so hard. Eventually, my tears slowed and I felt my burning eyes begin to grow heavy. Sleep was beginning to overtake me, and as I gave into my exhaustion my mind filled with scenes of the nightmare that I was going to have to face tomorrow.

ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ

I was startled out of my sleep by the sound of keys jangling from the direction of my front door. Disoriented, it took me a moment to be overtaken by the feeling of dread that came from hearing that noise. The only person who had a key to my apartment was Chris. Before, hearing his keys at my door filled my stomach with undeniable excitement — now, my stomach did anxious flips knowing what had to be done.

As I heard the door open and close, I rolled over so that I was facing away from my bedroom door and glued my eyes shut; pretending to still be asleep. I heard his soft footsteps on the other side of the door as he wandered through my dark apartment, before a hushed “shit!” broke the silence. After a few moments, I listened as his footsteps grew closer and closer to my bedroom door, and as I heard it slowly creak open, I braced for impact.

The room stayed silent, though I couldn’t really say that for sure since I couldn’t hear anything above the sound of my own racing heart in my ears. I did my best to stay completely still, though it felt like every part of my body was vibrating; waiting for his next move. Suddenly, I felt a shift in my mattress as his body leaned against it, and physically jumped at the feeling of his hand on my shoulder; shaking it gently.

“Y/n, wake up.” He spoke in a faux whisper, and, even though I had been pretending, I felt my body grow hot in anger that he would have the audacity to wake me from my sleep after showing up to my apartment uninvited. However, my body still not understanding that it wouldn’t belong to him much longer, I shot up from my place on the bed and searched for his eyes. The room was pitch black, but I could sense exactly where he was in front of me.

Rubbing my eyes, I searched the bed for my phone, checking the time to find that it was already nearly 2 a.m. I felt the mattress shift once again and watched his faint outline as he sat on his side of my bed. “Y/n, you left the stove on.” He was still whispering, and his sentence ended in a slight chuckle; clearly oblivious to the decision that I had made on my own just hours before.

Too heartbroken to really care about the stove, I shrugged my shoulders. “Whoops.” Was all I said to the silent room. “What happened? You fall asleep in the middle of making dinner or something?” His voice was still light-hearted, and was far from a tone that matched his previous texts to me. It made it so difficult for me to remember what I had to do.

“Turn the lamp on please.” I said simply, using every ounce of strength in my body to keep my tone monotonous. Chris stayed still for a moment, clearly thrown off by my behaviour. “Uh, okay.” He finally said as he leaned toward the bedside table closest to him and switched on the warm-toned light. After allowing my eyes time to adjust to the sudden brightness, they immediately fell on him.

Oh, my Chris.

His beautiful blue eyes were so kind and bright, his long hair was wet and messily draped across his forehead, and his matching oversized sweat set made me want nothing more than to curl into him and breathe him in. He stared at me blankly for a moment, clearly beginning to register that I was upset, before finally speaking. “I’m really sorry about earlier, baby. I had been in the meeting for hours and was getting really stressed out.” I felt the lump in my throat begin to grow. Some variation of that exact sentence had been the same excuse he had given me each and every time he had hurt me over the past few weeks, and it had lost its sincerity long ago. So, instead of giving into his cheap apology, I sat up in my bed and faced him; taking a deep breath before speaking.

“I have to tell you something. And I need you to let me say this without interrupting, or else I’m scared I won’t be able to go through with it. I’ve had to say this for a while now, and now that we are where we are I know it has to be done. So please, let me say it, okay?” His light eyes were focused intensely on me, he was clearly trying to figure out where this conversation was going. But finally, he swallowed before tentatively nodding his head. “O-okay.”

I closed my eyes, feeling my lower lip quiver as I tried to find my footing on this conversation. After taking a shaky breath, I finally found my voice. “I can’t do this anymore, Chris.” Immediately, my attempt at getting all my tears out of the way earlier proved to be a failure; because as soon as the heavy words left my mouth I broke down into sobs.

Over my crying, I heard Chris’ disbelieving voice. “What do you mean you’re done with this? With what? Me?” His voice cracked slightly as he spoke, clearly being hit with the same emotions that I was. I stayed silent — my eyes screwed shut as I wrapped my arms around my torso; doing my best to comfort myself. “Y/n, please tell me what you’re talking about.” He pleaded, and I felt him scoot closer to me on the bed; placing a hesitant hand on my knee.

After catching my breath, I wiped my tears away and opened my eyes to find his frantically searching my face like an uncertain creature. “I know you’re going through something right now,” My voice was coming out nearly silent, but I continued, “And I tried so hard to be there for you, I really did Chris. But you won’t talk to me! Instead, you’ve been taking out all of your frustrations on me and treating me like absolute shit. Do you really think that’s okay?” I fought the lump in my throat as I got my words out, his shattered face no help in that department. Frantically, Chris shook his head. “No. No, it’s not okay, baby, and I’m really sorry. But please, please don’t do this.” His tone tugged at my heart strings as his desperation grew more and more transparent.

Shaking my head and closing my eyes, I shut him down. “Can you tell me why you’ve been acting the way you have?” I knew my question was pointless before I even asked it, but his silence confirmed it. Releasing an ironic chuckle, I continued. “I promised myself that I would never let another man treat me badly. I’ve put up with it far too many times, and no matter how much I love you, Chris, I can’t allow you to speak to me the way you have been lately.”

I opened my eyes and felt my heart sink at his ghostly expression, clearly on the verge of losing his shit. I brought a hand up to his cheek and stroked it for a moment, and as I did he closed his eyes and let a few tears fall. “I want you to get better, I really do. But I clearly can’t help you, so you need to do it on your own.” My own words felt like a stab in the chest, and I couldn’t help the tears as they streamed down my face. “Come to me when you’ve worked through your shit, and we can see if we can repair things. But for now, I need you to leave.”

At that, Chris’ eyes shot open in a panic and he immediately grabbed onto my leg. “No, Y/n, please. Don’t do this.” I turned my head away from him as his desperation became too much to bear. His hands traveled across my body in anguish, clearly losing all control of his emotions as the reality of our situation began to set in for him. His body slid off of the bed as he dissolved into tears against my comforter. Still having the instinct to comfort him, I scooted towards the edge of the bed, where I let my legs stretch out beside him as I ran my hands through his beautiful curls.

“Please, please baby, I swear to god I can’t do this shit without you.” He wretchedly pleaded with me, clutching my leg and trailing distressed kisses along it. I looked up at the sky, too pained by the scene that was playing out in front of me. “Chris, please, I need you to go.” I begged him, needing to put him out of his misery so that I could hurt in private. He maintained his grasp on my leg, sobbing inconsolably against it. I gave him a moment, in which he slowly began to regain control of his emotions. I watched as his sobbing grew quieter and his breathing slowed, before finally watching as he pulled himself up to his feet; the weight of our conversation evident in the way he held himself weakly.

He glanced down at me quickly, his blue eyes red and puffy, before turning away in what looked like shame. In utter silence, he turned and began walking slowly in the direction of my bedroom door. With his hand on the door knob, he paused for a moment. “I’m sorry.” His words were so quiet I could have easily missed them, but the sincerity cut through my heart like a knife. That sincerity hadn’t been present in any of the other apologies he gave me, and I was gutted that it appeared too late.

And then just like that, he was gone. I felt all the air leave my chest at the realization of what I had just done, and let my body fall back against my bed as tears once again poured down my cheeks. I couldn’t help but immediately question whether or not I had done the right thing. Was I a horrible person for abandoning the man I loved when he was so clearly dealing with something? Did I allow my fears of repeating my past distort my current reality? Were the things he said to me really that bad?

I was pulled out of my tormenting thoughts by a soft voice coming from my doorway.

“My meeting today wasn’t about merch.”

That was all that he said. That was all it took for my heart to begin to beat for him again. One small hint of vulnerability. Feeling humiliated internally, I sat up on my elbows and found him hovering in the doorway. “Talk to me about it Chris.” I sounded exacerbated even to my own ears, feeling frustrated from all of the overwhelming emotions that the evening held. Tentatively, he walked over to the bed and sat beside me on the edge, arms resting on his knees. After clearing his throat, he began to explain. “The meeting today wasn’t about merch, it wasn’t really about anything to be honest.” Confused, I waited in silence for him to continue.

“A few weeks ago, Laura brought up the idea of going on another tour. A European tour.” He paused for a moment. “Nick and Matt immediately agreed and wanted to start planning everything so that we could do it this summer, but I said I didn’t want to do it.” I watched the back of his head, slightly shocked by his words since I knew that he had enjoyed the previous tours so much. “We would be overseas for a month, and I didn’t want to be so far away from you for that long. So I told them I didn’t wanna do it.” He took a deep breath. “Now, Matt and Nick are super pissed at me. They’ve both been giving me the silent treatment for weeks outside of the few times when they’ve just tore me a new one. And sure, we’ve all fought before, but never this bad. It’s been going on for so long, and I feel like I’ve lost sight of everything without having them be there for me.” His voice grew thick with emotion, and I fought the urge to cry along with him.

“Things have gotten so bad between us, that Laura forced us all to come in tonight to basically have a supervised argument. We sat there for hours, Y/n, just screaming at each other. And we got nowhere. I stood firm in what I wanted and so did they, so that’s why it went on for so long. And that’s also why I have been treating you like a complete dick lately. Because even though you had no clue what was going on, I think a part of me was kinda blaming you for all this shit. And I know that wasn’t fair, I really do. I just didn’t know how to tell you all of this because I’ve never been in a situation like this before.”

He turned to look at me, grabbing at my hand that was lying dormant in the space between us. “And I’m so, so sorry that I treated you the way I did. You didn’t deserve it. At all. But please baby, please don’t leave me. Because if you do, I will be completely lost. You are my anchor, and I need you to be there for me.” Tears rolled down my face as his voice cracked in desperation. “And I swear, baby, I won’t treat you like shit ever again. If you can’t believe me, and if you’re really truly done, I’ll understand. But please, Y/n, if there’s any part of you that believes me, please don’t leave.” He dropped his head into my lap, wrapping his arm around my waist and gripping onto my oversized t-shirt. Out of instinct, I brought my hand to his face and began stroking it softly; wiping away his tears as I did.

We stayed that way for a long time, both of us sniffling, heaving messes. I couldn’t lie, his honesty truly impacted me. I knew that he had to have gone against every single one of his instincts to finally tell me what had been going on in his life, and the fact that he did meant so much to me. I knew that Chris was extremely reliant on his brothers being a constant in his life, and couldn’t even imagine how lost he must feel knowing that they’re against him. His problem was much more severe than I thought it would have been prior to him opening up, and I felt an overwhelming amount of empathy for him. I knew that his poor treatment of me — as wrong as it was — had been completely out of character, and as I sat there stroking his soft cheek, I decided that I would believe him.

“Come up here.” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. Immediately, Chris lifted his head off of my thighs and sat up, his face inches from mine. Without a moment of hesitation, I leaned forward and engulfed his lips with my own. He immediately reciprocated, and both of our tongues worked in unison to lap up the salty taste of each other’s tears. Chris leaned forward, encouraging me to fall back against my pillows as he continued his passionate assault on my lips. His mouth travelled down my neck, where I shuddered as I felt him place sucks and nibbles sure to leave a trail of purple bruises. His body was warm on top of mine, and I had never before felt so present with him; so aware of his every movement.

He moved down my body, stopping briefly at my chest to remove my shirt, before continuing down below my waist. With his tongue, he created a path from just below my belly button to my right hip bone, where he left another purple bruise; causing my skin to break out in goose bumps. Lifting my hips, he wasted no time in pulling my boy shorts off of my body and leaving me completely bare. He continued to leave gentle kisses along each square inch of my body surrounding my core, but making sure to leave the place where I needed his mouth the most completely untouched.

I began to grow impatient, my body temperature increasing as my body filled with arousal. As he placed a kiss on my inner thigh, I bucked my hips up in frustration; practically begging for contact. Noticing my agitation, Chris almost immediately obliged, and I gasped out in pleasure as his tongue began working its magic against my clit. With each hand holding up my thighs, Chris swirled his tongue relentlessly against my bundle of nerves. I struggled to keep my body still as his movements continued, and failed miserably once he inserted two of his fingers into my core. “Fuck Chris, t-that’s so good.” I moaned out as his tongue and fingers worked my cunt in harmony. The wet sounds of my arousal grew louder and louder as I began to approach my orgasm, and in reflex my hands tangled in his hair; doing everything I could to keep him exactly where I needed him.

“Gonna cum, baby.” I cried out, and his encouraging hum against my clit was enough to get me there. My back arched off of the bed as my body began to convulse. To keep me in place, Chris took his free hand and placed it firmly on my lower stomach; causing me to scream out in pleasure. His mouth and fingers continued to push me through my orgasm, and didn’t stop even after my nerves became over sensitive. “C-Chris please. Can’t take anymore.” I struggled to get out the words, but he listened. Detaching his mouth from my core, he dragged his body back up my own and came face to face with me.

With the glean of my arousal still on his lips, he kissed me so deep I felt my lungs inflate. I could taste myself on his tongue, and my eyes nearly rolled to the back of my head from the intensity of the moment. I broke the kiss for only a moment to pull his hoodie over his head; relishing in the feeling of his bare chest against my own. Through his sweatpants, I could feel his bulging member press against my pelvis, and I reached in between our bodies and pulled his waistband down along with his boxers. Now completely free, his cock dribbled pre-cum down my stomach. With my hand still between us, I collected what was left of his fluid along his slit before slowly stroking my hand up and down his swollen shaft.

His breath hitched as I continued my movements, and he thoughtlessly bucked his hips into my hand to increase the friction along his trembling member. My hand twisted around his dick for a few more pumps, before I slowly guided it down toward my entrance. Once Chris felt the heat of my core at the tip of his cock, he looked down at me with darkened eyes — still slightly puffy from his previous tears — and dropped his jaw as he began to slide into me.

I gasped at the feeling of my walls stretching around his sizeable girth, and released a breathy moan as he bottomed out. Laying on top of me, he grabbed both sides of my face in between his hands and held it firmly as he began thrusting into me. His eyes never left mine as his hips rolled into me, and I watched in ecstasy at the pleasure visible on his face — as I’m sure he was doing to me. Our bodies smacked together in a steady rhythm and the wet sounds filled the room, adding an additional sensation to my arousal.

“I-I’m so sorry, baby.” Grunted Chris through deep thrusts. “It’s — oh fuck — it’s okay Chris.” I replied as I wrapped my legs around his waist. “Just please — please tell me you’re mine.” His voice sounded desperate and choppy, most likely caused by a combination of arousal and real distress. His choice of words and the tone at which he said them caused my stomach to do a flip, and I felt my second orgasm approach. Fighting the urge to give into the overwhelming feeling, I reached up and swiped his glistening lip with my thumb. “I’m yours baby, always.” I managed to respond through my cries of pleasure. Chris smiled down at me lazily before burying his face in my neck; leaving sloppy, breathy kisses along its thin skin.

My walls began to pulse and my skin started to feel like it was being lit on fire; both clear signs that I was extremely overstimulated as I was approaching my orgasm. “Shit, gonna cum again.” I blurted out just as I was hit with a tsunami of an orgasm. My legs tightened around his waist and my nails dug into his arms as I fought to keep my head above water, but my mind grew fuzzy as I spewed guttural profanities into the room as I came in waves.

It didn’t take long for Chris’ orgasm to follow, and that was made clear by his throaty grunts and sloppy pace before he stopped entirely; shouting breathless 'I love yous' into my neck as his cock shot its warm fluid deep inside of me. He eventually pulled out, before curling two fingers into me and shoving all of our conjoined juices up to my cervix. His eyes stayed glued to my cunt as he did so, seemingly in awe of the view.

“You’re all mine, and I’m all yours.” He said it so quiet that he might have just been saying it to himself, before he leaned forward and planted a soft kiss on the crest of my heat; earning a full-body flinch from me.

He came back up to the top of the bed where he laid down beside me, pulling me towards his chest and running a hand up and down my naked back. I felt so secure in his arms — his familiar smell filling my nostrils and calming my mind — that I nearly forgot everything that had happened prior to the past 15 minutes or so. That is, until he spoke.

“So, are we okay?” His voice was tentative, and he was very clearly afraid to hear my answer. I uncurled myself from his body so that I could look up at his lovely face, his desperate eyes scanning my poker face for any sort of hint.

“You will never, ever, speak to me like that again, no matter what.” I kept my voice firm, even when his face immediately relaxed into a grin. “I swear, I won’t baby.” He responded, trying to tuck me back into his chest, but I pushed back slightly. “And, I need you to talk to me about shit you’re going through, Chris. I’m your girlfriend. That’s my job. You need to promise me, you will come to me about anything, and I will do everything I can to help you through it.” He continued to gaze at me, though his wavering eyes and his chewing on his lower lip made it clear that the idea made him anxious. “Promise me, Chris.” I repeated, making it clear how serious I was.

Finally, Chris nodded his head. “I promise, baby. I’ll tell you everything.” I smiled, then, finally feeling secure in our relationship for the first time in weeks. “Then yes, we’re okay.” I responded before planting a soft kiss to his pink lips. “And you and your brothers are going to be okay, too.” His worried expression deepened at the reminder of his conflict with Nick and Matt. “We’ll talk about it more tomorrow once we get some rest, but we can make the tour work. You know, I’ve always wanted to visit Europe.” I watched as his lips began to turn up into a soft smile. “Plus,” I leaned forward to whisper in his ear, “I wouldn’t mind being your groupie.”

He dissolved into giggles at that. “But what about your job?” He asked tentatively. I shrugged. “I actually got promoted today. I was gonna tell you earlier, but y’know.” His face fell momentarily. “I got a raise, but more importantly I got more benefits. Including thirty vacation days.” His face lit up once again, and it was almost like I could see the weight lift off of his shoulders before he attacked my face with kisses. “So let’s have another meeting with Laura and your brothers tomorrow and work this all out. I can come, and we can fix this easily together.” Tears welled in his eyes, and he nodded his head before kissing me hard. “I love you, Y/n.”

I curled myself back into his chest and sighed, taking in the feeling of him mindlessly drawing random shapes on my back. This was the Chris that I knew and loved, and I knew that this is who he really was. He wasn’t perfect, but I never expected him to be. Problems come with every relationship, and of course there was never any guarantee, but I had a feeling that this night would vastly change our relationship for the better.

ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ

#sturniolo triplets #sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo angst #chris sturniolo fluff

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starkwlkr · 8 months ago

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i wait for you | sebastian vettel

part 1 part 2

this is the last part in this mini series!! thanks for reading <3 some lines are taken from the movie babylon :) (babylon, you will always be famous)

REQUESTS ARE CLOSED

update: i decided to make this into a series, thanks for reading! you can read it here!

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liked by sebastianvettel, aussiegrit and 766,388 others

yourusername hi, i would like to start by saying thank you for all the kind messages i’ve been receiving over the past couple days. this is my only account on any social media. i know it’s been years since you’ve heard from me so here’s an update:

as of last week, i am now divorced and living happier than ever. i do a lot of reading and baking. i still think about my time on the track and all the wonderful people i met.

until next time, take care.

comments on this post have been limited

TIME SKIP TO ABU DHABI 2022

you weren’t sure if you made the right decision, yet here you were in the aston martin garage about to watch sebastian’s last race. the aston martin team made sure photographers weren’t in your face with their cameras, which you thanked them for. yeah, your former job had paparazzi following you almost everywhere but you had gotten used to the quietness.

you hadn’t seen sebastian all day, it was killing you inside. you felt like this was a bad decision, but before you could leave the aston martin garage, you saw sebastian enter with britta by his side. you heard him speaking to her, but he stopped once he spotted you.

britta noticed the look sebastian gave you. it was like seeing two teenagers in love. “i’ll leave you two alone.” she said then left.

sebastian watched as you played with the ring on your finger. it was a habit he noticed in 2010 and somehow you never changed. “we can go in my driver’s room if you’d like. it’s more private.”

“yeah, i’d like that.” you reply. together, you and sebastian walked to his driver’s room.

several people from the aston martin team were secretly rooting for you two, it was clear that they knew about your history. even if they were big fans of you, they didn’t walk up to you to ask for a photo, not when you were with sebastian on the most important night of his life.

you finally made it to his driver’s room. it was small, but it was just perfect for you and sebastian to have a conversation in. you and sebastian sat on the tiny bed. “are you nervous?” you asked.

“more excited actually. it really is nice that you’re here. thank you for coming.” he said.

“i didn’t think you would want me here.”

“why?”

you looked at him. there he was staring at you with his beautiful blue eyes. “i thought you hated me all these years.”

“i could never hate you, y/n. i never stopped loving you even when you told me you were engaged, when i found out you said i do to someone else.” he confessed. “i’ve carried this love for you in my heart for many years. but you were happy.”

“i was happy . . then he broke my heart and i gave him the ring back.” you replied. “i realized I didn’t want that life with him . . . because i want that life with you and i know it all seems so sudden but it’s always been you.”

in that moment, seemed to stand still as he processed the weight of her words. he couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of hope blossom within him—a hope that, against all odds, maybe, just maybe, they could finally be together.

you could feel a tear run down your cheek. “god, i’m sorry. i dumped all this on you before your last race—”

then she felt sebastian’s lips on hers. as their lips met, the world seemed to fall away, leaving only the two of them.

for you, it was a revelation—a confirmation of the love you had always felt but never dared to acknowledge it. for sebastian, it was a homecoming—a return to the one person who had always held his heart captive, even when you belonged to another.

their moment had been interrupted by a knock on the door then by sebastian’s father, norbert vettel, asking if he was ready yet.

“i’ll be out in a second.” sebastian replied. he turned to look at you. “i am considering that a good luck kiss.”

“you don’t need luck, you’re sebastian vettel.” you playfully rolled your eyes.

“well whenever i’m with you, i always feel lucky.”

and with that, you and sebastian exited his driver’s room.

SEB’S LAST RACE

you were feeling lots of emotions. you watched as sebastian finished his post race interview with jenson. you watched from a monitor inside the aston martin garage, you could see the sadness in sebastian’s eyes. you knew the feeling all too well.

“go meet him.” norbert said. “he needs you right now.”

“but—”

“go.” he assured you.

so you walked to the pit lane since sebastian was already making his way back to the garage. once he spotted you, he smiled. you made it clear that now you didn’t care if you were photographed, all you wanted was to be with sebastian.

“i really want to kiss you right now.” sebastian said when he walked up to you. many photographers and journalists were crowded around you, making sure to capture the moment between you two.

“then do it.”

and then, without another word, he pulled her in for a kiss. as his lips met yours, you felt a rush of warmth flood your entire being. as they finally pulled away, your eyes met in a silent understanding. sebastian took your hand and led you to back to the garage where his team was waiting for him.

“i’m so proud of you.” you whispered to him.

“you won’t be saying that when i’m bothering you constantly now that i’ll be around you more.” he joked.

“and i’ll be fine with that.” you reply with a smile.

sebastian turned to face you. he knew it was still early, but he always kept his promises. “one day, i’m going to marry you. i’m going to make you so happy everyday, okay? it’s my only job.”

hearing sebastian’s words filled you with a sense of comfort, joy and reassurance. you suddenly felt more alive and complete than ever before.

“i love you, more deeply than i ever thought possible.” you reply.

and suddenly, everything felt right in the world.

@woozarts @hc-dutch @lightdragonrayne @multiplefandomwritings @jggykhug09090 @neivivenaj @kissesandmartinis @barnestatic @avythef1addict @sam-is-lost @dampcelery0294 @shineforever19 @c-losur3 @lifeless-firefly @horsiegek @ares10156 @purplephantomwolf

#formula 1 #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #f1 x you #sebastian vettel instagram au #sebastian vettel smau #f1 instagram au #sv5 #sebastian vettel fluff #sebastian vettel x reader #sebastian vettel one shot #sebastian vettel imagine #sebastian vettel #sebastian vettel fanfic

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mostlymarvelsstuff · 10 months ago

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Reader receives Nats nudes accidentally

Authors note: Just in case you didn't see, you can now buy me a coffee/commission something. See this post for more info 🥰

Authors note 2.0: trying out a new thing with a drabble series

Word count: 803

Marvel Masterlist Natasha Masterlist How They React To Masterlist

A while ago, Tony had been feeling generous and had offered to update everyone's personal computers. And Nat was definitely in need of an upgrade, she was still using the old laptop she was first given when she joined SHIELD years ago. It still ran, which she was grateful for, but it did lack speed and some other niceties. So she took him up on said offer.

Which is why she now finds herself sitting at her desk with two laptops in front of her while she transfers over her multitude of files and data. It's a bit of a tedious task to go back through everything and find out what is actually worth keeping, what's important and what can be trashed before she hands it back over to Hill, but in the end it’ll be worth it.

She's just finishing up now, sending over the last few miscellaneous things. But what she hadn’t realized was that she had not selected her new computer as a transfer location this time, but had selected your computer. Likely unnoticed because she had forgotten about even connecting her laptop to yours during your last mission, and because her eyesight was beginning to get strained after so many hours of sitting here. Regardless, off they went, and she was none the wiser

Meanwhile you're just returning to your desk from a much needed break when you see the file transfer notification light up. This confuses you, as you hadn’t asked anyone to send anything over, nor had anyone told you to expect anything. But since you apparently have some more things to attend to, you sit back down and open the file. This proves to be of little help however, because nothing is labeled. All you know is that it contains several documents and one picture.

You decide to open the picture first, as it would hopefully not require reading. It's clearly been taken in a dimly lit room so it takes a second for your eyes to adjust to the darkened screen to discern anything, but soon enough you're greeted with the side profile of a naked woman. This confuses you even more, but you find yourself unable to tear your eyes away. And that's how you spot it, a small scar to the left of the belly button

“Oh my god!” you exclaim as you register who you're seeing, and you quickly close the tab

Your hands start sweating as you wrack your brain for a rational explanation. You knew Nat was a playful flirt, the two of you did so all the time. But to send an explicit picture, unprompted, and by file transfer at that, just didn’t make sense. That's when you remembered the other contents of the file, and you quickly skim through them to see if they would be of any help piecing things together. When you discover that they are just after mission reports and weapons specs your hunch of it being unintentional is confirmed. Now, you just had to figure out what to do about it

A few minutes later, you're standing outside the redhead's door as anxiety bubbles inside you. But you fight through it and knock.

“Come in!”

She's turned enough in her desk chair to see who's entering and a wide smile spreads across her face as she registers that it's you. You feel guilty now, because you have a feeling your demeanor and what you have to say will cause that smile to falter, but you need to do this. Afterall, you’d want someone to be forthcoming if they received something like this of you.

“Uh, hi Nat”

She notices your nervousness, but sets aside the observation for now “Hey Y/n, what's up?”

“I think you accidentally sent me a few of your things during that last file transfer”

“Oh, shit. Sorry about that, I’ve been at this for a few hours now and I guess I hit yours by mistake” she explains, “I didn’t even realize we were still connected”

“Neither had I. But Nat, there was a picture of you among the documents”

“Yeah? I hope it was a good one at least” she jokes, not realizing what you were trying to say. You're silent for a moment too long however, because she fully turns her chair to look at you, with her brows furrowed with worry, “Y/n, what's wrong with the picture?”

“Nothings wrong with it!” you reply, a little too enthusiastically when you think about what's yet to come, “It's just that, well…. You're naked”

Her face turns a shade of pink you’d never seen before, and her head swims with insecurities and nervousness. But she manages to bring out an air of confidence and gives you a sultry smirk

“So, answer the question. Was it a good picture?”

Taglist:@wandaromamoff69 @mmmmokdok @nataliasknife @natashasilverfox @when-wolves-howl @danveration @naomi-m3ndez @sheneonromanoff @sayah13 @likefirenrain @nighttime-dreaming @just-a-torn-up-masterpiece @readings-stuff @chaoticevilbakugo @crystalstark02 @wackymcstupid @xchaiix @iaminluvwithnat @lovelyy-moonlight @blackwidow-3 @mistressofinsomnia @that-one-gay-mosquito @yomamagf @yourfavdummy @justarandomreaderxoxo @scoutlp23-blog @whoischanelle15 @lissaaaa145 @eline03 @wizardofstories @imthenatynat @marvelonmymind @fluffyblanketgecko @bitch-616 @dakotastormm @zoomdeathknight @rayeofmoonlight @aeroae @sashawalker2

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x y/n #natasha x reader #marvel #fanfic #marvel fanfiction

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muniimyg · 13 days ago

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𐙚₊˚⊹ bbydaddy!yoongi (9) ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹

series m.list // taglist

note: sorry this update took forever !!! enj <3

there are no words that can describe how incredibly awkward you feel when you wake up.

last night—after you and yoongi crossed that unspoken line and messed around—you two ended up tangled together.

it’s strange because in between soft touches and sleepy murmurs—you actually got to know him in ways you never expected.

you recall it all.

his quiet voice filling the spaces between the darkness and your hushed breathing so you could hear every tone, every word, and every breath of his crystal clear.

yoongi told you stories and confessions that slipped out between shallow breaths. childish yet meaningful things he probably didn’t even realize he was saying.

you remember him murmuring about the way his mom used to hold his hand when he couldn’t fall asleep as a kid, or how he swore he’d never own a fish again because when he was 11 years old... he had 14 goldfishes and they all died one by one 2 weeks later.

he swears it wasn't his fault.

you tell him you believe him.

(you really do.)

he also talks about his quiet love for early mornings, how at peace he feels when he’s the only one awake in a still-sleeping world. in that half-dazed vulnerability, yoongi let you in.

just enough for you to see a side of him you hadn’t expected, a part that was softer, quieter, more open.

then, you two talked about baby injeolmi.

how you two don't really care about the gender and just want a healthy baby. so much so that you both agreed to not know the gender and to just be surprised on the day of. oh, and how you do want a baby shower and think hye mi is already plotting that...

then, you two talked about the moving in thing again.

that's when you pretended to go to sleep and actually fell asleep. yoongi only laughed at you, fully knowing that you're just nervous. you're moving in one way or another.

he knows it.

you know it...

but aside from the way the talk ended; it went well.

no, the talk wasn’t everything…

but it was something.

now, with the morning light filtering through the blinds, reality started to seep back in.

the familiar awkwardness of two people who shared more than they’d planned. you can feel his warmth beside you, his hand still loosely draped over your waist, and a twinge of nervousness fluttered in your stomach.

you glance at him, expecting him to be asleep. but then, his eyes blinked open, groggy but sharp enough to catch the slight flush in your cheeks.

still half-asleep, his voice rough as he mumbles, “hi…”

for a second, neither of you move, as if lingering in that quiet, unguarded space between sleep and reality. suddenly aware of the intimacy, he clears his throat, his gaze softening but pulling back just a bit.

you offer him a shy smile, feeling the weight of everything unsaid between you.

“a-about last night…”

he chuckles softly, rubbing a hand over his face. “yeah… last night…”

then, he pauses to gather his words.

“wait, are you talking about me yapping or me sucking your tits?”

none. you’re talking about pretending to fall asleep regardless, your shy smile breaks as you burst into laughter. he joins your laughter and sighs.

“i mean, are we gonna talk about any of it or is acknowledging it good enough for now? i don’t know if i’m awake enough for the conversation but i will be if you want to—”

“all good,” you assure him. “i don’t know where i was going with any of it. i guess i just wanted… to know if you—”

“i liked it,” he tells you, not digging any deeper. “you getting to know me, me sucking your tits—all of it.”

as promised, yoongi takes you to the baby store.

your eyes light up the minute you step foot in it. it’s then that yoongi remembers exactly who he’s having this baby with.

you and your fucking babyfever.

the baby store is a mix of pastel colors, tiny clothes, and gentle lullabies playing over the speakers. yoongi trails behind you as you wander through the aisles. one hand resting on the cart as he pushes it along, his eyes constantly flicking to you with a quiet, thoughtful focus.

though you two are pretty good at communicating—the whole physical affection part? that’s still a little wonky. for instance, every time you pause to examine something, yoongi is right there, his hand slipping gently around your waist to guide you to the next aisle or just to linger beside you. it’s so subtle that, at first, you think it’s an accident, a reflex.

but then it keeps happening.

at first, it throws you off—his casual closeness.

the way he stays so near, like a shadow. you’re not used to this kind of attention from him.. this quiet and steady affection. but strangely enough, you find that you don’t mind it. in fact, there’s something comforting about the way he stays close, attentive to your every move.

when you stop to touch a soft little onesie covered in tiny clouds, yoongi doesn’t even hesitate. he reaches over, gently taking it from your hands and adding it to the cart without a word.

you shoot him a questioning look, but he only shrugs, a small smile tugging at his lips as if to say, whatever you want.

“yoongi, you know you don’t have to buy everything i touch, right?” you remind him, glancing at the growing pile in the cart.

yoongi just chuckles, unbothered, and places his hand on your waist again as you reach the aisle full of toys. his touch is warm and grounding, making it hard to argue with him.

“you’re not carrying any of it home, so relax,” he says with a smile that’s both charming and final. “i like this shit too. they’re cute or whatever—”

then, your fingertips brush as you both reach for a soft, star-patterned onesie. he lets go first, letting you hold onto the onesie.

“this one’s cute,” you say softly, running your thumb along the fabric. then, you bite back a small smile when you realizes yoongi hasn’t moved his hand from your waist.

“yeah,” he murmurs, nodding. his voice is softer than usual, but before you can read into it, he takes the onesie and tosses it into the cart. then he grabs a few more items without asking you, each time ignoring your attempts to peek at the price tags.

“yoongi..."

"what?"

"are you serious?"

he looks at you blankly. "don't we need these things?"

you nod but give him a stern look. "yeah, but we can't buy out the whole store."

"why not?"

"first of all, that's insane... and second of all—a-are you just—"

you reach for a soft, stuffed rabbit, just curious to feel it, and—predictably—he plucks it right out of your hands, tossing it into the cart.

"you are."

"i'm what?"

"seriously?" you huff, barely holding back a grin. “you’re not even letting me decide if i want it. you're tossing it in just because i touched it.”

he remains unbothered by your protests.

“what if i just think you have good taste?” he says, glancing at you with a hint of mischief.

and with that, he gives you a gentle nudge, guiding you further down the aisle with that warm hand still resting at your side.

“are you saying that just to flatter yourself?”

“what do i have to do with this?”

“well, you’re my type and my babydaddy—”

“i’m your type?” yoongi tilts his head at you. "good to know..."

you blush, eyes wide from embarrassment. before you can make up some excuse to save face, he leans in and playfully pinches your waist.

“you're my type too, mama.”

you clear your throat and redirect the conversation.

"s-should we pick a crib?"

yoongi gestures his hand for you to lead the way.

as you begin to walk, you turn your head and send him a glare.

"... and be serious about this part, okay? this is the crib we're picking out. read the packaging and make your judgement. i'm gonna end up choosing the prettiest one that might not function as well as the ugly one... so, can i trust your taste on this?"

yoongi nods, pushing the cart with a steady, unhurried pace, his hand resting casually on the handle.

“you can trust me,” he says, his voice low and sincere.

... and so, you do.

you trust him.

when you reach the checkout, you step forward to pay but—

yoongi slips right past you.

casually handing over his card to the cashier before you even get a chance. you cross your arms and narrow your eyes at him, watching as he signs the receipt, completely unbothered.

the total is easily above $3,000.

he meets your gaze with a look that’s almost playful, his expression all wide-eyed innocence, as if he hadn’t just ignored your efforts.

"yoongi," you begin, voice firm. “we’re both injeolmi's parents, and it’s not fair for you to pay for everything. at least let me pay half—”

he doesn’t respond right away, just nods patiently, his attention focused on gathering the bags the cashier hands him. his face is calm, listening but clearly not swayed. he loads a big box containing the crib into the cart, then places the bags filled with tiny clothes, blankets, and toys right beside it, adjusting them carefully.

you press on, leaning slightly forward, hoping to get through to him.

“we’re both responsible here... i know i'm not a nurse practitioner like you, but it's not like i can’t contribute, you know—"

“i know.”

yoongi glances over his shoulder at you, his mouth quirking in the faintest smile as he stacks the last bag. he seems unbothered by your scolding, more amused than anything.

“this is my baby too and i feel uncomfortable letting you do this much—”

finally, he turns to you, reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair back from your cheek in a gesture so casual it nearly makes you forget your own irritation.

“do what? provide?”

you're tongue tied.

“all done? feel better, mama?” he asks, his tone light, but his eyes sparkle with a hint of mischief. “if not, go ahead. say what you want. say what you need to say. i’m listening.”

you let out a small huff, crossing your arms more tightly, trying to stay serious.

“you’re not paying for everything, yoongi.”

he raises one eyebrow, his expression softening but still unwavering.

“i am. i did.” he shrugs, nonchalantly. it feels like he’s teasing you even though he isn’t. “___, i’m all done with this topic now. are you?”

“no, actually, i—” you start, feeling your frustration build.

“great,” he interrupts, his smile spreading into a grin that makes your heart skip.

he reaches down, taking your hand in his, his grip gentle yet firm, and begins to guide you toward the exit, leaving you no room to protest.

his thumb rubs lightly over your knuckles as he holds your hand, a grounding gesture that calms you, even as he completely ignores your point.

“let’s go home,” he says softly, his voice warm, as though it’s the simplest decision in the world.

home.

following yoongi inside his condo, the familiar sight of his place tugging at something inside you.

it’s been a while since you’ve been here. the memories of that night still linger like a quiet hum in the back of your mind, but you push them aside.

focus on the present.

focus on the baby.

he leads you through the hallways, and you try to ignore the way your pulse quickens as you walk past his bedroom. you know it’s silly—nothing’s changed here. but still, the weight of the space feels different, heavier now. maybe it’s because this time, you’re here for something else.

this time, it’s about the baby.

and the fact that you’ll be moving in soon… fuck, your mind begins to spin.

then, yoongi stops in front of a door, his hand resting lightly on the handle. he opens it slowly, stepping aside to let you in.

“this is the guest room,” he says, but you can tell he’s hesitating, like he’s waiting for your reaction. “soon to be baby injeolmi’s room…”

you step inside, your gaze instantly drawn to the empty space. it’s clean, quiet, the pale walls untouched by time or use. the sunlight pours in from the window, making the room feel warmer, but it’s still just a room.

there’s nothing personal about it.

nothing that belongs to anyone yet.

but you can already picture it—nursery furniture, soft colors, the quiet hum of a baby’s lullaby filling the air. you glance back at him, noting the careful expression on his face. he’s watching you, waiting for your approval. waiting for your thoughts, even if you’re not sure what to say. you wonder if he’s nervous too, if this feels as strange to him as it does to you.

for a moment, your mind drifts to that night—the night everything changed.

the night you slept together.

the night you felt something more than just friendship between you two. the way his touch felt, the way his lips lingered on yours, and how quickly it all faded into the awkward silence the next morning.

"i also made space for your things in my room. i'm not finished clearing out my all shit but i will be by next week. does that sound okay?"

"huh?" you blink. "n-next week?"

yoongi nods.

"i think i gave you enough time to think things over... and don't act like this is a surprise. i brought it up last night. you pretended to sleep."

your eyes widen.

"i—"

"move in with me next week," yoongi says. "... you can pretend to sleep mid conversation in my bed from now on."

by an hour and half in, you and yoongi have filled the space with scattered remnants of baby gear—boxes, parts of cribs, and the disassembled pieces of a changing table. they all lay haphazardly across the floor.

it’s oddly comforting.

the clutter somehow feels like a soft reminder of the chaos and excitement that’s about to come.

yoongi is kneeling on the floor, tools in hand, as he begins to assemble the crib, the sound of metal and wood clicking together filling the otherwise quiet room.

you lean against the doorway, arms crossed, watching him work with a careful, focused precision. his brow is furrowed, his jaw clenched as he concentrates on each piece. his sleeves are rolled up, revealing forearms that make it hard to focus on anything else. you swallow, not bothering to hide the way your eyes drift to the muscle in his arms as he works.

and then, almost instinctively, he looks up at you, his gaze meeting yours as if he can feel your eyes on him.

“baby injeolmi’s clothes need to be washed,” he says, his voice low but firm, his hands already reaching for another tool. “you want to do this 50/50? fine. but i don’t want you getting hurt.”

you push off the doorframe, rolling your eyes as you walk toward him, crossing your arms over your chest.

you’re not used to him treating you like you’re made of glass, but you get where he’s coming from. still, it doesn’t sit well with you.

“i’m pregnant but i’m not fragile,” you argue. “i can help you with the crib—“

he doesn’t budge, his jaw tightening as he focuses on the task at hand.

“humor me then,” he says, his tone patient, but there’s an underlying edge of stubbornness that makes it clear this isn’t up for debate.

you’re about to argue further, but the way he’s working—so effortlessly, so damn focused—has you momentarily silent. the way his arms flex as he screws the pieces together, the tension in his shoulders, the occasional glance up to check in on you—it all just feels so... domestic, and so right in this moment.

you step back a little, your breath catching as you take in the scene. yoongi, with his sleeves pushed up, lost in his work, looks so different from the guy you met—still him, but somehow more.

more... grounded. more steady.

your gaze lingers, unable to pull away.

your cheeks heat, a strange flutter in your chest as you realize you’ve been staring too long. When Yoongi catches your eye, his expression unreadable for a split second, you scramble to regain your composure.

“i’ll, uh…” you quickly clear your throat, suddenly feeling the weight of the moment. “i’ll get started on baby’s laundry. do you have clothes that need to be washed too? i can do a load—i mean… fuck—y-you know what? how about i make us some lunch first? yeah. i’ll do that.” you say, quickly backing away before your feelings get the best of you.

your steps are hurried as you leave the room, but you can still feel the heat in your face, the warmth of his gaze following you as you retreat.

yet, the image of him—focused, strong, and all yours—lingers, and you can’t help but smile to yourself as you step into the kitchen.

in the kitchen, you decide to keep it simple yet comforting.

something easy to share, nothing too fancy. you settle on making caprese chicken sandwiches with a side of fresh fruit and chips.

you finish grilling the chicken and layer it on the toasted ciabatta. you add slices of fresh mozzarella, letting it melt slightly, then pile on thick tomato slices and fresh basil leaves. a drizzle of balsamic glaze finishes it off before you top it with the other half of the bread, pressing it together gently when yoongi walks in.

without a word, he leans against the counter beside you, his presence as familiar as the scent of the meal. he doesn’t wait for you to finish; instead, he picks up a melon slice and takes a bite.

“can’t you wait two seconds?” you laugh, nudging him playfully with your elbow.

yoongi just grins, completely unbothered. he takes another bite.

“fruit always taste better when moms cut them,” he says, his voice teasing but laced with that quiet sincerity of his. “oh, should i say milf? or is that jungkook’s line?”

you roll your eyes but can’t help the smile tugging at your lips.

the way he stands there, so effortlessly himself, makes your chest tighten in a way you didn’t expect. he’s always been like this—comfortable, confident, and somehow, when he’s this close, it feels like everything else fades away.

as he pulls away, you notice a small smudge of melon juice on the corner of his lips. without thinking, you reach up to wipe it away, your thumb brushing softly against his skin. the movement feels natural, almost automatic, but something about the intimacy of it makes your heart flutter. you don’t hesitate, bringing your thumb to your mouth to clean it off.

“mhmm,” you moan. “tastes sweet.”

then, the moment freezes.

yoongi stares at you, eyes wide, as if he’s seeing you for the first time, like the simple action has somehow shifted everything. the air between you thickens, and suddenly, it feels like there’s more than just the space in the kitchen separating you.

you stand still, unsure of what to do next.

your eyes lock, and in that second, something unspoken passes between you. it’s not just the closeness or the warmth of the kitchen—it’s a pull, an undeniable magnetism that makes your chest tighten and your breath catch.

yoongi’s gaze drops to your lips, and you can feel the tension, the quiet yearning between you both. his hand twitches slightly at his side, like he wants to reach for you, but he’s holding back, waiting for you to make the first move.

and just as you’re about to lean in, your belly gives a sudden flutter.

you gasp, your eyes widening in surprise, and instinctively, you reach for his hand, pressing it gently to your belly.

“oh my god.”

“what?”

“yoongi… i think… here—”

you hold your breath, waiting, and then—

there it is again.

a small, unmistakable kick.

yoongi’s eyes light up with awe, his fingers curling slightly around your hand as he feels it, a slow smile spreading across his face. he doesn’t say anything at first, just stands there, his eyes fixed on your stomach, filled with wonder and something deeper that you can’t quite place.

you squeeze his hand, feeling the weight of the moment settle around you both.

“did you feel that?” you whisper, a smile tugging at your lips.

yoongi looks up at you, his eyes softer now, holding something deeper than the simple wonder of the moment.

the air around you two has shifted into something more intimate. then, his gaze flickers to your face, his heart fluttering in his chest as he steps a little closer, his thumb gently brushing over your hand.

… and as he looks into your eyes, his pulse quickens.

it’s not just the baby’s kick he feels—it’s this quiet, undeniable pull between you two. his chest tightens with the weight of it, and for a moment; this is everything to him.

everything.

he gulps as he soaks in your presence and sinks into the idea feeling of love beginning. then, slowly and then all at once; he accepts it.

“yeah,” yoongi says, tone warm and ever so sure. “i feel it.”

as you look up to meet his eyes, yoongi’s lips tug into a smile. dipping his head low, he kisses you.

#bts smau #bts fanfic #yoongi dilf #yoongi dad au #yoongi x yn #yoongi x reader #yoongi scenario #yoongi fluff

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pulisicsgirl · 5 months ago

Text

in my hour of need - mason mount

summary: eight months after the end of their relationship, Y/N and Mason find themselves at the same event—a charity gala—and the night’s events leave them both unsure of where they stand with each other

pairing: Mason Mount x reader

word count: 8.4k

warnings/tags: inappropriate joke is made about the reader, angst, self-doubt, exes-to-lovers, hurt/comfort (hee hee hee), ends with fluff of course don’t worry, lots of crying involved along the way

requested: no

based off of this concept from @mountttmase and @saltyheartnightmare

A/N: I’m so excited to finally have a fic ready to post for y’all again!!! I’ve literally been working on this one for the last three months, so it’s definitely a relief to put it out there! This is set during the TFSL gala that Mason attended back at the beginning of March, so some things might be a bit”outdated” by now… I hope yall enjoy!!!

Seeing Mason tonight had been more difficult than you had anticipated.

Eight months had passed since the fairly amicable breakup between the two of you. Things had ended on fairly good terms, but it had been the little things that built up that had led to the end of your relationship. Between Mason’s injury along with the situation at United and new, huge career opportunities that had arisen for you in the last year, the two of you seemed to be in completely different places in your lives. It seemed like you barely saw each other for a few minutes after you woke up in the morning and a few minutes before you fell asleep at night.

In the end, the disconnect was too much, and the two of you agreed to end things before they could get ugly.

You were thankful to have avoided the period of fighting and bickering that you knew would inevitably come with the track that you and Mason were on. Your relationship with him had many fond memories attached to it, and you didn’t want to see those tainted by a messy breakup. But every day that passed, you missed waking up in his bed, being by his side, spending time with him— all of it.

The two of you had tried your best to remain friends, truly. You had texted back and forth a bit, doing your best to keep up with each other’s lives and keep each other updated. You met for coffee about three weeks after the split, but after that your communication had quickly fallen off. You wondered if, like you, Mason had realized that trying to maintain a friendship had grown too painful. If, like you, it was killing him to have you sitting across from him and not be able to hold you, to kiss you, to call you his.

But there was no way for you to know— the two of you hadn’t spoken since.

It hadn’t come as a surprise that he was making an appearance at the charity gala. After all, it was him that had connected you with Together For Short Lives, the organization that Mason had a long-standing relationship with and also the organization benefitting from tonight’s events. Mason’s passion for the charity and its work had sparked something within you, and you had quickly pulled some strings to get your workplace involved with it as well— all of this while you were still together.

So when your boss told you about his contribution to the charity gala and has asked you to be the representative for the business at the auction itself, you knew that seeing Mason would be inevitable.

But it’s been eight months since the split—seven since you last saw him. Surely, you’d be fine by now, you had thought.

Unfortunately, you had thought wrong.

The first glimpse of him in the sleek black suit had sent a sharp pang through your chest, a wave of emotions crashing over you. His hair and beard were neatly trimmed and the softness of it immediately made you think of how it felt when you would run your fingers through it, or the scratch of his beard when you would cradle his jaw in your palm. His shoulders seemed to have grown broader, if that was even possible. His eyes looked brighter, and he seemed far more well-rested than you had seen him in the months leading up to your breakup.

And then the terrifying thought had hit you.

Maybe he was better off without you.

Maybe the breakup had been good for him. Maybe you had been the thing draining him in the last months of your relationship.

You felt the tears spring to your eyes as soon as the thought crossed your mind, blinking them away quickly.

But the thought continued to plague you as the night went on. There were a thousand things that were making you feel unsure of yourself and the thought that your relationship with Mason had actually been detrimental to him was just the cherry on top.

This just wasn’t the kind of event you usually found yourself at, even less a setting that you felt comfortable in. You would much prefer a quite night in or the opportunity to fade into the background. When you had been with Mason, you found yourself at a few events like this one, but you always had him at your side. Often you would allow him to navigate the evening for you, so you didn’t even have to think about anything. Tonight, instead of standing next to you so you cold hold tightly onto his arm when you felt unsteady, he was 100 feet away, engaged in conversation with someone else.

To make matters worse, you had asked a friend of yours to help you find and choose a dress for the evening, and she had insisted you would look and feel great in this elegant, low-cut, dark green dress that had an open back. At the time, she had convinced you that the piece complimented your figure and would make you feel confident and sexy. However, it was completely out of your comfort zone, and you regretted your decision to listen to her as you tugged on parts of the dress to try to cover yourself up more throughout the night.

Between the unfamiliar environment, the dress, and Mason’s presence, everything left you feeling quite unsure of yourself.

When you reached your seating assignment, you were relieved to see that you were familiar with a few of the individuals that were sitting at your table—acquaintances that worked for the same company as you who, no doubt, were also sent as representatives for the charity gala. The relief was short-lived, however, when you realized that, directly in front of you, a mere two tables over, Mason’s seat was directly in your line of sight.

You did your best to sink into the shadows, allowing conversation to flow around you without making any contribution, unless someone directly asked you a question. You also tried your hardest not to look over at Mason— this sight of him happily engaging in conversation, seemingly unaffected by your presence, was too much for your heart to handle.

A wave of relief washed over you when someone got up on the stage, removing any pressure to engage in conversation at the table as everyone turned their attention to the announcer. He spoke a bit about Together for Short Lives and the work that they did, soon announcing that it was time for the items to be auctioned off.

Some of the auction items piqued your interest, seeming like items or experiences that you thought you might enjoy. But any sort of intrigue faded when you heard the amounts of money that some of the gala’s patrons were volunteering for them, quickly realizing you were way out of your depth in this room of people.

Before too long, the announcer introduced a “Manchester United Experience,” involving a tour of the team’s facility, accompanied by the team’s star boy himself. Mason approached the stage, walking up the short flight of stairs as applause rang throughout the room. You didn’t hear much of the discussion of the experience as you got caught up in watching Mason and the playful way he interacted with the announcer and the crowd. His silly boyishness sent a pang through your heart, missing the playful way he used to interact with you.

You could’ve sworn his eyes caught yours as they swept the room, and you flashed him a short, forced smile as a sort of sign of goodwill. You weren’t exactly sure where the two of you stood, but you wanted to show him that you didn’t harbor any negative feelings toward him, despite the loss of contact.

The faintest of smiles tugged at the corner of his lips before he turned his attention back to the announcer who had just asked him a question— one that Mason had to ask him to repeat.

Soon Mason was leaving the stage, having earned an ungodly amount of money for TFSL with his promised tour of Old Trafford.

A sick feeling settled in your gut, knowing it couldn’t be much longer before your company’s contribution was auctioned off. The mere thought of stepping onto that stage sent a rush of fear through your veins.

Before you knew it, you found yourself standing to the side of the stage, awaiting your queue to join the announcer on it. Your palms felt sweaty, your heart racing as you tried your best to compose yourself. Applause rang through the room, and you put all of your focus into not tripping as you walked up the stairs.

The room felt ten times bigger from atop the stage, filled with many more people than you had realized were in attendance. You tried to focus on smiling and nodding at the appropriate moments as the announcer explained what your company was auctioning off.

“And of course, we’re very appreciative of Miss… uhm…”

“Y/L/N,” you spoke quietly as the announcer trailed off.

“Yes, we’re very appreciative of Miss Y/L/N being here with us tonight,” the announcer resumed his charismatic personality after it had faltered briefly. “She’s certainly doing her part to raise money for a good cause. I mean, with this much skin on show, that has to be worth a few extra pounds on your bid, right?”

Your stomach sank to your feet as laughter erupted in the large room. You felt the heat in your cheeks, your smile faltering at his words. You suddenly felt ten times more self-conscious of yourself as you stood on the stage, feeling like a zoo animal being laid bare and displayed for everyone’s entertainment.

“With that, we’re going to start the bidding off at…” The announcers voice faded as the room felt like it was closing in on you. Your eyes flicked through the crowd, jumping from face to face until you found the one you were looking for— Mason.

While everyone else seemed to still be composing themselves from the eruption of laughter at the joke the announcer had made at your expense, Mason’s eyes met yours with the saddest expression you though you had ever seen. You could just barely make out his lips mouthing the words it’s okay, you’re okay, before your misty eyes could no longer make out his face.

You composed yourself just long enough for the announcer to finish off the auction, and you offered him a forced smile before you rushed off of the stage.

All you knew was that you needed to be anywhere but this room. You needed to get out, away from all of the people who had just witnessed your very public humiliation.

You made a beeline toward the back of the large hall that everyone was seated in, spotting the double doors that you knew led out to the hallway. Your heels click on the floor as you push through the doors and find the exit out to the decorative garden off of the side of the building being used for the gala. Thinking a bit of fresh air would do you good, you rushed outside, ignoring the chill that rushed through you as the cold air met your skin. Moving quickly away from the building, you ducked behind some hedges in the hope that no one would see you.

Your breathing was heavy as you tried your best to dampen the emotions welling up inside of you. Your throat felt tight as you fought back the tears of embarrassment, frustration, and regret. Forcing yourself to breath slowly, in through your nose and out through your mouth, you did your best to wipe gently at the corners of your eyes, praying that you wouldn’t ruin the makeup you had done only a few hours before.

“Y/N?” you heard a voice call from around the corner. Your heart sank as you recognized the gentle tone and the footsteps let you know that he was close. This was surely not the circumstances you had hoped to be in when you spoke to him for the first time in months.

You turned your back just in time for Mason to round the corner and find you hiding away in your little nook. There was nothing you hated more than the idea of letting him see you cry in this moment.

“Y/N, love-“

“I’m fine, Mason.” Your voice came out harsher than you had meant for it to. “Really, I’m okay. Just go back to the auction.”

Undeterred by the way you had spoken, Mason took a couple of steps closer to you. “No, you’re not, Y/N. I know you better than that.”

You couldn’t respond, and you knew he hadn’t missed the small sniffle you had let out as you bit your lip to keep it from trembling.

It was only a moment before you felt his fingers gently take hold of your arm, turning you to face him. Your head was bowed low, still unwilling to let him see your misty eyes.

“C’mere, love,” he whispered, wrapping his arms around your torso as he pulled you in for a tight hug. You couldn’t keep yourself from returning the gesture, your arms wrapped under his as you pressed your palms into his broad back to hold him close. You tucked your face into his neck and suddenly, your heart felt more settled than it had in months.

“He had no right to say anything like that— about you or about anyone,” Mason mumbled into your hair, pressing a barely-there kiss to your temple. “It was completely inappropriate, and you have every right to feel upset. I’m so sorry.”

He brought a hand up to cradle the back of your head, holding you closer to him. You didn’t fight it at all, settling into him more and taking comfort in the proximity.

When he could tell that your breathing had steadied, Mason pulled back, still holding you with one arm as he looked down at you with a soft smile.

“There she is.” He brought his free hand up, brushing his thumb gently under your eyes to wipe away a tear that had fallen. The gesture was so gentle and intimate that you felt like your knees were about to give out, thankful that he still had one arm around you to steady you. “Whatever waterproof makeup you’re using is working because you still look perfect,” he joked, warmth flooding through him at the soft giggle you let out before dropping your forehead onto his chest.

“For the record, your dress is beautiful,” Mason said softly. You knew he must have sensed your discomfort with how much skin you had on show, even before the gala announcer had made any comment about it. “And, in the least creepy, predatory way possible, you look amazing tonight.”

“Thank you,” you whispered, wanting to convey your gratitude to him while trying to ignore the flutter in your stomach at his words. The one thing you did like about the mostly open back of the dress is that you could feel Mason’s palm flattened directly against your skin as he held you close, his thumb rubbing back and forth in soothing motions. This, combined with the look in his eye that you couldn’t quite place as he looked down at you, made your skin feel like it was on fire, the heat rising up your neck and into your cheeks.

You brought your hands to his chest, holding the lapels of his jacket in your hand before you spoke quietly. “We should go back inside before anyone realizes we’ve gone.” You felt suddenly overwhelmed by the interaction with him, feeling yourself falling back into old habits without even intending to.

Mason unwound his hands from your waist, seeming a bit discouraged by your comment as he merely nodded, holding his arm out for you to take. You did so, holding onto his elbow to keep yourself steady as he led you back inside.

It was quiet between the two of you, neither sure what to say to the other after the intimate moment in the garden. Once back inside you squeezed his elbow gently, saying, “I’m gonna go freshen up really quickly, but I’ll see you back out there,” with a gentle smile. Mason nodded, letting you step away from him and into the bathroom.

In truth, while you did feel a need to freshen up a bit after the tears you had shed outside, you needed a moment to collect yourself— not because of the auction announcer’s comments, but because of Mason.

You stood at the small sink in the ladies’ room, watching yourself in the mirror as you tried to stop the way your head seemed to be spinning. The last time you had seen Mason was seven months ago, engaged in stiff conversation because neither of you knew how to speak to each other after the breakup. But now, he had come to your rescue without a second thought and held you as if the breakup had never even happened.

And it felt right…

You shook your head, telling yourself not to read too much into it— Mason is a caring person and just because he ran to your side when someone had said something hurtful about you doesn’t mean he wants you back. You were self-aware enough to recognize that you had a tendency to let your thoughts run away with you, and you did your best to shut it down before it got out of hand.

At the same time, Mason’s mind was also running wild. His brain felt as if it was under some sort of fog, intoxicated by the feeling of being able to touch your skin again. He was like an addict who had quit, cold turkey, some months ago, and the first taste of your proximity had nearly done him in. He couldn’t stop thinking of how it felt to be so close to you again— to feel your weight against his body, to smell your shampoo that was still the same, to hear your soft voice, muffled by his own neck, your gentle breaths fanning over his skin.

He was worried that maybe he had been too forward— maybe you hadn’t wanted him to run after you. He didn’t want you to think he felt like he needed to rescue you from every poor situation, but after hearing the announcer’s comments and seeing the way it had so clearly upset you (even though everyone else seemed to have overlooked it), he knew he couldn’t just let you be on your own.

He been wary of overwhelming you, but it felt right to pull you into his arms out in the garden. It felt right to hold you close to him and rub gentle, soothing circles into your back with his thumb, the way he’d always done before.

Mason felt unsure of himself. He worried that your hurry to get back inside was to get away from him. He pondered with the idea of going back into the gala so it didn’t seem like he was hovering. But he battled with himself internally, thinking that you may not have wanted to be left to your own devices.

He hated that the months he had spent apart from you had robbed him of his ability to read you. He just wished he could figure out what was going on in your head.

In the bathroom, if you hadn’t had a full face of makeup on, you would’ve taken this opportunity to splash your face with cold water. However, a few deep breaths while you told yourself to get it together would have to do, and you exited the bathroom, planning to find your way back to your table and leave as soon as the event was over. It would be best, you thought, to not engage too much with Mason to avoid getting your hopes up before they were inevitably crushed.

Those plans were cut short the moment you stepped out of the bathroom and into the building’s foyer. There, Mason was waiting for you, and your stomach did a flip at the soft smile that took over his face when he lifted his head and saw you.

A wave of relief that you hadn’t expected washed over you at the sight of him waiting there.

“It sounds like they’ve wrapped up the auction in there.” Mason jabbed a thumb over his shoulder, gesturing toward the large hall that you had fled from just a bit ago. You could hear the sound of loud conversation and laughter, signaling that Mason was, indeed correct, and the guests would be starting to exit the hall soon.

Unsure of what you were meant to say, you were thankful when Mason spoke up again. “Look, I’m here, and you’re welcome to stick with me if you’re still feeling a bit overwhelmed, but if you want me to just leave you be, I understa-”

“No, please,” you rushed to cut him off, the thought of having the face the room full of people before you alone sending a feeling of dread down your spine. “I mean… I just… can I just walk with you?” Your voice was small when you spoke again, feeling pathetic for being incapable of facing an event without him by your side.

A warm feeling spread across Mason’s chest at your words, feeling a sense of pride that his presence made you feel even a little bit safer in the unfamiliar environment. Wordlessly, he offered his arm to you again, a reassuring smile on his lips.

As much as you wanted to portray yourself as an independent person who was able to take care of yourself, you had to admit that the rest of the evening felt much easier with Mason at your side. It was so easy to slip back into the same old routine—everyone wanted to talk to the star footballer, and you were happy to stand quietly at his side while he shook hands and unleashed his irresistible charm on each one.

Mason kept you close to him at all times, and the warmth of him settled your nerves tremendously. The gentle placement of his hand on your lower back sent tingles up your spine every time, and it took everything in you not to wrap your arms around his waist, afraid of overstepping.

It wasn’t much longer before Mason was leaning down, mumbling in your ear to ask if you were ready to leave. He knew this wasn’t your scene at all and had been looking for an opportunity to get you out of there since the two of you had stepped back into the gathering hall.

You had to hold back a shiver as his breath fanned over your neck, nodding in response. You let him know you just had to pop over to your table to grab your things and he nodded, following as you led the way.

Once you had retrieved your clutch and bid as quick of a goodbye as you could muster to those that were still lingering at your table, you and Mason turned to leave, heading back toward the set of doors you had entered through. The hall had grown more crowded, and as you weaved between tables, you allowed Mason to grasp your hand, leading the way through the sea of people so you wouldn’t be separated.

As you entered the foyer, Mason tugged you forward gently so that you returned to his side. The two of you exchanged a short smile.

“Is your hotel close by?” you asked, trying to make a bit of small talk as the two of you walked toward the exit.

When the bridge of Mason’s nose went red, a shy but unsure smile on his face, you slapped a hand over your face, realizing the double meaning of your question.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that,” you felt the heat in your face as you, no doubt, were turning bright red. “I was just trying to make small talk. Clearly, I’m not good at it.”

“No, no, it’s okay.” Mason couldn’t hold back his laughter. “Uh, I’m actually making the drive back to Manchester tonight. We’ve got training tomorrow morning, so I’ve got to get home.” Mason reached the door, holding it open for you. “What about you? Are you nearby?”

“Yeah, actually.” The two of you reached the sidewalk in front of the building, coming to a stop as you turned toward each other. “I’m supposed to be a hotel just a bit that way.” You pointed behind him, toward the accommodations that your job was paying for.

There was a beat of silence between the two of you.

“You know… you’re welcome to tag along back to Manchester with me, if you wanted to. I could use the company to keep me awake.” Mason smiled softly at you, remembering how much you hated staying in hotels.

“Don’t you have Lewis or someone with you? I wouldn’t want to impose.”

Mason shook his head in response, mumbling a quiet, “just me.” He was subtly rocking back and forth on his feet, and you could tell he was nervous about your answer.

Getting to go home, rather than sleeping in an uncomfortable hotel bed did sound pretty nice after the turn your night had taken.

Mason watched your eyebrows furrow in thought, an anxious feeing settling in his tummy as he awaited your response.

“You’re sure?”

Mason did his best to conceal the excitement he felt at the idea of getting to spend a couple more hours with you. “Yeah, I’m sure,” he whispered. “Come on, you and I both know you won’t get any sleep in that hotel bed.”

You couldn’t deny that he was right.

It wasn’t long before you were ducking into the passenger seat of Mason’s car, making sure the bottom of your dress was all the way in before Mason closed the door behind you.

The drive started out quiet, neither of you sure how to navigate the situation that you found yourself in. But as soon as you asked Mason about the FA Cup quarterfinal win over Liverpool where he had made his return following injury, his face lit up and things felt like they were almost back to normal.

You did your best to keep the topic of conversation on Mason and his life, not wanting to speak about yourself. Any time he seemed to be coming to the end of one topic, you were sure to ask another question before he had the chance to ask one to you.

Because, truth be told, life had been nothing but dull since the two of you had parted ways. Seeing him tonight was the most interesting thing to happen to you since… well, since the last time you’d seen him.

It was no secret that the transition to Manchester had been difficult for the both of you. There was no doubt it had contributed to the ending of your relationship. Leaving behind your friends, your old flat, and all of the things you had known had been no easy task. Thankfully, you had been able to stay in the same line of work, merely transferring to a new location. But you had struggled to adjust to the new, unfamiliar city, even more so when you didn’t have Mason at your side. Weekend visits back to London to visit your old friends were all that had kept you going in the last months.

As you listened to Mason telling stories of all of the fun things he had gotten up to with the boys on the team that he had grown closer with, the self-doubt creeped back in. He seemed to be doing so much better since the two of you called things off, and again your mind told you that maybe he was better off without you.

Mason noticed the change in your demeanor almost immediately. The car grew quiet, and you sat with your head leaned against the window, watching the lights as they passed. It may have been months since he last saw you, but he could recognize the signs of you overthinking from a mile away, unsure of whether it was about the announcer’s comments from earlier in the night or the fact that you were sitting in a car with him.

Wanting to provide a bit of reassurance, Mason reached over, taking your hand in his, bringing it up to his face, and pressing a quick kiss to the back of it. He placed your hand back in your lap, moving to put his back on the steering wheel, but your grip tightened slightly to prevent him from doing so. Your head remained pressed against the glass, but the small gesture brought a smile to Mason’s face as he shifted to intertwine his fingers with yours.

Mason didn’t press you for conversation, allowing you the space to process the events of the night however you needed to. Before long, Mason heard the soft sound of your deep, steady breathing, and a quick glance in your direction revealed that you had drifted off to sleep, your hand relaxed in his. The dull ache that had settled in his chest all night grew a bit sharper as he stole a few glances in your direction, admiring the peaceful expression on your face.

As much as he tried to hide it, as much as he tried to put on a brave face and talk about all of the amazing things that had been going on in his like recently, he couldn’t deny…

He missed you.

He missed having you like this, at his side at the end of a long day. He missed the feeling of ease that washed over him just by knowing you were close by and being able to have that same effect on you. He missed catching up with you at the end of the day, instead of trying to accurately recap the seven months that had passed since he’d last seen you.

He just missed you being in his life and had spent the last eight months trying to find out how to get you back in it.

You were jostled awake as you heard the sound of a car door closing. You sat up straight, blinking your eyes a few times as you tried your best to figure out where you were. You recognized the interior of Mason’s car, a flash of confusion running through you before the memories of the night came flooding back in.

The car door at your side opened, Mason appearing at your side as he crouched down, offering you the gentlest of smiles.

“Hey there, love,” he spoke softly, and the kind look in his eyes made your heart flutter. “You fell asleep on the way back, and I realized I don’t know where your new flat is.”

The little flutter of your heart quickly died, the reality of your failed relationship crashing back in after you had been able to put it to the back of your mind for much of the night since Mason had come to your aid.

“O-Oh, I’m sorry,” you shook your head, reaching for your bag to pull out your phone. “I’ll just order a car, I’m so sor-”

“Don’t be silly, just stay here. I’ve got some extra things you can use, and I’m going into training late tomorrow anyway, so I can drop you at home on my way,” Mason smiled at you, and the way his eyes shone hopefully meant you wouldn’t need much convincing, whispering a soft “okay” in reply.

Mason took your hand, helping you out of the car and leading you inside as you wiped your bleary eyes. He led you to his room, releasing your hand as he wandered through the room, laying out a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants for you to wear. He wandered to the bathroom for a few moments. When he emerged, you watched with confusion as he collected a few things in his hands and walked toward his door.

“You can sleep in here tonight. I still had some of your skincare products left over from before, so they’re out on the counter,” he smiled at you. “I’ll just be in the guest room, if you need anything.”

His generosity caught you off-guard, and before you could come up with a response, he placed a quick kiss to the top of your head and left the room, closing the door softly behind him.

You stood in the middle of the room for a moment, just looking around, taking it all in. You never would have suspected that you’d find yourself here again, and you couldn’t wrap your head around the turn that this night had taken.

Finally snapping yourself out of it, you slipped out of your dress, pulling Mason’s shirt over your head. The scent of his cologne mixed with the laundry detergent he always used brought a wave of emotion crashing over you, and your lower lip wobbled as you walked into the bathroom.

Along with a spare toothbrush that he had set out for you, all of your skincare products were lined up on the counter, and the thought that he had held onto them for you after all this time was what finally caused the tears the spill down your cheeks, the emotions of the night finally catching up with you.

When you crawled into the bed, face washed and feeling fresher after the long night, you allow the tears to flow, pressing your face into Mason’s pillow.

All of it was so overwhelming. Seeing him again after so long. How unsure you had felt of yourself throughout the night. Being humiliated in front of an entire audience. The way Mason had run to your side without a moment’s hesitation. The way it had felt so natural to fall back into conversation with him, to touch him, for him to touch you. Being back in the house that you had once shared with him.

It was all too much.

Not even 30 feet away, Mason was lying on his back in the guest bed, eyes wide open as he stared at the ceiling. There was no way he was falling asleep any time soon, the thought of you in his bed only a few steps away enough to keep him awake.

After an hour had passed, accompanied by only his racing thoughts, Mason toyed with the idea of sneaking down to his room to see if you were awake. There were a thousand things he wanted to say to you, and he felt like he was going to explode if he didn’t get to say them soon.

But he thought better of it, guessing that you were probably already asleep, and he didn’t want to disturb you.

However, Mason had guessed wrong. Instead, you were lying on your side, legs tucked up close to your body, staring at the small, framed photo of the two of you on Mason’s side table. It had always been there during your relationship, and the thought that he had kept it in the time since you had split brought such a weight of sadness over you that you felt sick.

Did he miss you the way you missed him? Did he, too, regret not fighting harder for your relationship with every day that passed?

The thought kept you awake until the early hours of the morning.

When Mason awoke the next morning, a heavy exhaustion weighed on him as he had only slept a few hours, tossing and turning the entire time. He crawled out of bed and slipped a shirt over his head, his feet padding softly on the carpeted floor as he moved down the hallway to check on you. He noticed that the door to his room was already open, and when he peeked his head in, you were nowhere to be found.

From the way the blankets were shifted, Mason could tell that you had slept on his side of the bed, and his chest tightened at the thought.

The sound of clinking pots and pans coming from the kitchen caused Mason’s ears to perk up and led him in that direction.

As Mason rounded the corner, he found you, with your back facing him, standing in front of the oven. Your hair, falling across your shoulders, still held some of the curl that you had done for the event the night prior. Mason’s heart clenched at the sight of you in his shirt and a pair of his sweatpants.

A few pans and bowls were scattered across the stovetop and counters, and Mason recognized all of the components of the hearty breakfast you used to make when both of you had the day off. The combination of smells was so specific, and the déjà vu nearly made him dizzy.

You turned around, reaching for a bowl on the counter and jumped slightly when you saw Mason there.

“Sorry,” he breathed, still at a bit of a loss for words. “Didn’t mean to sneak up on you like that.”

You just gave him a small smile and a short “s’okay” as you turned back to the stove. “Sorry if I woke you.” Your voice sounded so small—Mason hated it. He hated the tension that hung in the air between the two of you. He hated the fact that you had nearly become strangers to each other.

In the hours that you had spent, lying awake with your thoughts running wild in Mason’s bed, you had resolved to avoid complicating things further than they already had been. Things were awkward enough between the two of you after Mason had graciously come to the rescue, despite the ending of your relationship, and you were determined to make it home without making it worse.

You owed it to yourself— your feelings for Mason were still there, hidden just beneath the surface. But you refused to put yourself out there and put your heart through that pain again.

You wished you had it in you to be cold with him, completely cutting off any chance of rekindling something between the two of you— any risk of getting your hopes up. But you knew Mason, and you knew that he often wore his heart on his sleeve, and you couldn’t bring yourself to hurt him like that, either.

But despite your resolve and determination, the sorrow-filled gaze in Mason’s eyes had already begun to pierce through the armor that you had put around your heart.

Out of the corner of your eye, you watched as Mason slipped into one of the chairs on the opposite side of the island countertop. His eyes followed you as you finished preparing the last of the breakfast. You dished out two plates— a portion for yourself and another, larger portion for Mason.

“You didn’t have to do all this, you know?” Mason spoke softly as you set the plate in front of him.

You shrugged, standing on the opposite side of the island from him as you stared down at your own plate. “It’s the least I could do. It’s your food anyway,” you mumbled, poking at your eggs with a fork, suddenly feeling too sick to eat anything.

“Well, thank you, Y/N,” Mason said, earnestly. “I really appreciate it.”

Mason couldn’t help but feel discouraged by your stony demeanor. He had hoped that after the night prior, the two of you might be on the right path to sorting things out between you, but now he wasn’t so sure.

He kept stealing quick glances at you as he ate, savoring every delicious bite. But he could tell how uneasy you felt as you stood there, tucking your hair behind your ear as you took small bites from your plate.

The tension was thick as the two of you ate in silence, neither one sure how to even begin the conversation. Did you talk about last night, or leave the topic untouched?

The longer the silence stretched between the two of you, the heavier the weight on your heart grew. As much as you had tried not to get your hopes up, and as many times as you told yourself that your relationship with Mason was well and truly over, a small part of you had still hoped that he would say something this morning— anything, really. That small part of you wanted to believe that this chance encounter was the key—a sign that the two of you needed to find your way back to each other.

But despite it all, the spark that you had hoped was still there seemed to have been snuffed out.

You kept your eyes glued to your plate, afraid that Mason would see them shining with tears and start asking questions. You didn’t want him to think you were pathetic— needing him to rescue you the night before and now here, standing in his kitchen, crying because he didn’t want you back.

You took a breath and steeled yourself to pack up your things from his room and get the fastest Uber back home you could manage.

Swallowing the lump that had formed in your throat, you scraped the last of your food into the trashcan, no longer able to stomach another bite, and placed the empty dish in the sink. You left the kitchen as quickly as you could, trying to hide your face from Mason as the first tears fell.

Mason was taken by surprise at your sudden rush to leave the room, the noise a stark contrast to the silence that had hung thick in the air. He watched your back as you walked out without so much as a glance in his direction.

His stomach sank. He had hoped, after lying awake all night thinking of you, that you had been cooking breakfast for him as a sort of sign—a signal that you wanted to talk things over again and revisit the topic of him and you. But the unpleasant aura that had remained between the two of you while you ate had gotten you no closer to that conversation.

Maybe he had read too far into things. Maybe the breakfast had just been a ‘thank you’ for driving you back to Manchester last night. Maybe he had pushed too far and inviting you to stay at his was too much, too soon.

Mason pushed his plate away from him, dropping his head into his hands and huffing a sigh as he felt his eyes burn with tears that surprised him. He hadn’t realized just how much the last 24 hours had gotten his hopes up for reigniting a relationship with you until you seemed to have walked away from it altogether.

It was almost like he could feel his heart breaking all over again.

But no, Mason resolved. He refused to let you walk away from him again, not until he had fully expressed to you how deeply he missed you, how much he still cared for you.

With renewed determination, Mason stood from his chair and nearly ran to his bedroom.

Standing outside of his own bedroom door, Mason hesitated for a moment, again overthinking his decision to confront the issue head-on.

But that didn’t last for more than a second before he was tapping his knuckles gently on the door three times.

“You can come in,” he heard your small voice.

When he opened the door, slowly, he found you just returning from the bathroom, several of your own items in hand. As you attempted to collect all of your things, Mason didn’t miss the tear you tried to inconspicuously wipe from your cheek or the soft sniffle you tried to hide with a cough. His heart softened— seeing you cry had always been one of the things he hated most.

“I have an Uber on the way. Should be here any minute. I don’t want to ask you to drive me again,” you spoke hurriedly, as if overcompensating for your fragile state by talking too much. “I can, um, just wash these clothes and drop them off sometime. I really-“

You were cut off when you turned to walk around to the other side of the bed and instead, ran straight into Mason’s chest.

He steadied you with a hand on each of your arms. He held an unreadable expression on his face, and you knew there was no hiding the tear streaks on your cheeks now. However, Mason’s eyes shone with as he looked down at you.

It was silent for several seconds until Mason spoke in a whisper, pleading.

“Don’t go.”

And the silence returned. Your thoughts were spinning a mile a minute. Your mouth dropped open, your brain making its most valiant attempt at forming a response, and yet no words came to you.

Mason took your loss for words as an invitation to continue. “I miss mornings like this. I miss falling asleep with you in my arms and waking up next to you. I miss talking to you at the end of the day,” his lower lip wobbled as he paused to collect himself. “I miss you, Y/N.”

His words pierced right to your heart. Whatever walls you had built to keep him out were nowhere near strong enough and you could already feel them beginning to crumble.

“Letting you walk away was the biggest mistake of my life, and I’ve spent every day since then wishing I could go back and change it all. I would’ve fought harder for you— for us.” Mason pleaded softly. “Seeing you last night made me realize that none of that has gone away, I still feel the way I did before. Please— please tell me you feel it, too.”

The tears poured freely from your eyes now, and there was no holding them back. You rolled your lips into your mouth, attempting to hold in a sob. Mason’s hands left your arms, coming up to cradle your cheeks as you closed your eyes, leaning into his touch. His thumbs swiped at your cheeks, trying to dry your tears.

“I can’t, Mason. W-We can’t,” your voice trembled.

“Why can’t we?” Mason was desperate, resting his forehead against yours. The proximity was making your head spin, the feeling of his breath fanning across your face too familiar, too overwhelming.

“Who’s to say it won’t be the same as the last time?” you cried, finally looking back at him. “I can’t go through that pain, not again.”

“We decide that it’ll be different.” Mason was ready to get on his knees and beg if he had to. “Things will be better this time— I’ll be better.”

He knew that what you had was worth fighting for, and if there was any chance—even a shred of hope—that you would give him another shot, he had to take it.

You looked up into his tear-filled eyes as he whispered, “I just know I can’t lose you, Y/N, not again.”

Like a dam breaking loose, a sob wracked your body at his words. Whatever had been left of the walls you had built up came crashing to the ground. Mason was quick to pull you into his chest, resting his cheek on the top of your head as he rubbed soothing circles into your back.

It was like all of the hurt and emotions from the last eight months tore through you at once. Mason, feeling the way your frame was shaking, held you tightly to him, as if he were the only thing holding you together in that moment. He kissed the top of your head, and you could hear him sniffle, knowing that he was crying, too.

As your cries grew softer and you began to calm down, you clutched Mason’s shirt tightly in your fists, afraid that if you released him, he would disappear.

Mason eventually leaned back to look at you and you lifted your head from where it was buried in his chest. There was the softest hint of a smile on his face as he tried to wipe away the remaining tears.

“I-If we do this…” Mason’s tummy flipped at your words, clinging to the sense of hope that they brought. “If we give this another chance, we have to take it slow.”

Mason nodded quickly, his eyes flicking all over your face for any sign of hesitation. “Anything you need, love. Anything at all.”

Your lower lip wobbled as you took him in. “I’ve missed you so much, Masey.”

Mason pressed his lips firmly to your forehead, his heart soaring at the use of his nickname. “I’m here now, and I’m not leaving— never again.”

You leaned forward, pressing your face into his neck and hugged him again, trying to drink if the feeling of being back in his arms. You let him overwhelm your senses— the feeling of his arms around your body, his comforting scent as you breathed him in, the sound of his heartbeat that calmed you so easily.

“I know we’re taking it slow, but I have a couple more hours until training,” Mason spoke softly as you pulled back, looking up at him. A hopeful smile played on his lips. “Will you stick around? Cancel your Uber. I can take you home on my way.”

“Are you sure?” There was still that shred of lingering doubt, the fear of imposing yourself.

“I’m so sure,” he smiled. “I don’t think i’m ready to let go of you just yet.”

You couldn’t stop the giggle that escaped your lips before you whispered a soft “okay.”

Never, when you left for the gala the night before, did you think this was where you would find yourself—back at Mason’s house, as he led you to the couch to cuddle while you talked about what your next steps would be. But as you lay in his arms, admiring the soft scattering of freckles across his cheeks, you felt a piece of your heart that had been missing those last few months begin to heal.

And you couldn’t be more thankful that you had your boy back.

As always, your feedback is greatly appreciated!!! 🤍

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millervrse · 4 months ago

Text

A SECOND CHANCE ! joel miller x reader

summary: Joel was sent by Marlene to come find you and bring you to Saint Mary’s. You are the only human aside from Ellie Williams who has been bitten and not turned: You are the only way that a cure can be created where no blood is shed. But to do that, you’ll have to warm up to the hardass that is Joel goddamn Miller.

pairing: joel miller x afab!reader

warnings, notes: EVENTUAL 18+ smut, so minors dni, occurs after the plot of the first tlou, but before joel gets ellie out of saint mary’s, some canon facts are changed for the sake of this story, ENEMIES TO LOVERS! reader has a heavily established backstory that is to be explored throughout the series, game references (tess, the fireflies, sarah, the general plot of the game, etc). implied age gap. reader’s just as tough as joel, if not worse! warnings will change and be updated as the series progresses.

word count: 2.8k+

LYN SPEAKING! alright, hey! i’m lyn, and i’ve had this idea in the back of my mind for close to a year now (yes, a year) and baby FINALLY finished the first installment of this series i plan to work on based on it. i sincerely hope this is well received! if you want to know when i update this series, please let me know, and i will kindly tag you. also, if you have any ideas as to where this story can go, my inbox is wide open! alright now, buckle up and enjoy!

PART I: IMMUNE

“If there’s no way for you to do this where Ellie lives,” Joel said, a dark gruffness to his voice as the words leave his lips. “Then it ain’t happenin’. I swear it.”

Joel Miller and Ellie Williams had been through hell and back to deliver her to the Fireflies. People had died along the way, close to the pair or not, and sacrifices had been made for the greater good. But now, as they stood at the end of the line, Joel realized that there was no greater good, and that they hadn’t been to hell.

Because this was it.

Joel stood defensively before Marlene, the woman who was the reason this was happening in the first place. The Fireflies wanted to make a cure for the virus that had taken their world by surprise twenty years ago. One that would cure the infected of their curse, to bring them back to the human beings that they once were. But to do that, Joel would have to make the biggest sacrifice of them all.

Losing Ellie.

He couldn’t bear to lose a second daughter, not when he had already given his all to have her. To keep her. Not when he had already lost Sarah in his arms all those years ago. No, no, no. Sarah had been unfairly shot, unfairly killed, and Joel was powerless to help her.

That wouldn’t be the case with Ellie.

He stood in front of an unconscious Ellie now, laid out over a bed in the hospital he had delivered her to. He had managed his way in here by narrowly avoiding Firefly personnel. But just as he was about to flee, Marlene and several soldiers behind her had him cornered every which way.

“Joel—“ Marlene did her best. But Joel didn’t want to hear it.

“No,” he barked, gun trained on the brunette. It didn’t matter if this ended in flames. It didn’t matter if he died. If he was doing it for Ellie, then he’d do it again and again, in this life and the next. “If there is no scenario where this little girl survives, it is not, happening.”

There’s a pause, a look of delay in Marlene’s eyes as she looks at Joel. She debated. Should she tell him? Should she reveal a secret she had been holding back since he had taken this assignment nearly a year ago?

This was no time to hang back.

“There’s one.”

That, was the moment in time when Joel Miller learned about you.

A girl, who had also been bitten, and not turned. A girl, whose history Marlene refused to delve too deeply into. A girl, who could be the cure to the cure, where nobody died.

Where Ellie lived.

“Where do I find her?”

———————————————————————

That’s how he had gotten here.

A noise sounds from behind you as you're readying to go and hunt for food in your house in Vermont, alongside a brief patrol to make sure that no infected were lurking by. You’re quick to tense when the sound fills your ears, grabbing the crossbow that was on the counter near you, the one that you’d thankfully just loaded, and whipping around.

A man who looked much older than you stood in the doorframe. He was tall with tousled hair, a green, wrinkled shirt mirroring his gruff demeanor. Your gaze darkened at the sight. You hadn’t seen a human being in a millennia. Let alone one that you hated to admit, was handsome.

You didn’t let that deter you, however, raising your crossbow higher and aiming it at him.

"You've got five seconds to tell me what you're doing here,” your voice firmly rang out as you drew the bow. Thank God you’d always been a natural at aiming. “Or I'll put one between your eyes.”

The man put his hands up, though his face remained neutral as he stood in place, as if to show he wasn’t afraid of you. “Easy does it,” he rasped, his voice as gruff as he looked. “I’m not here to hurt’cha.”

“Then, leave,” you returned. “This doesn’t have to end in blood. And if you get any fucking closer, I promise you, it will.”

“Well, aren’t you a ray of sunshine,” the man said in jest, causing you to draw your arrow back more, a warning for him to watch his tone. A sigh escaped his lips as his shoulders tensed at the gesture, closing his eyes and opening them to meet yours. “Look. I was sent here to find you. Alright? I just need to talk.”

This wasn’t going to be easy for Joel, was it?

Your aim never wavered as you responded. Your first thought was what the fuck was he talking about, but the curse doesn’t make the cut as you answer. “Sent by who?”

A pause.

“Marlene.”

You tense.

“She said you’d know her.”

Oh, you fucking know her, alright. Who the fuck was this man and how the fuck did he know about you and Marlene? It’s impossible, you think. That was years ago. This man was lying.

Right?

“Marlene?” you scoffed, your voice shaking. “That’s bullshit. I haven’t spoken to Marlene in years, and she sure as hell wouldn’t be sending anyone to find me,” you return, the furrow already present in your eyebrows deepening, eyes drowning in suspicion. “Who are you, really?”

The man doesn’t move, instead keeping his arms raised like he’s some sort of peace offering. “The name’s Joel, Joel Miller, and I swear on my life that what I’m tellin’ you is true,” he said. When he took note of the apprehension in your expression, he lowered his voice, letting it relax into one that was meant to make you feel calm. “I’m not here to hurt you. Alright? Just let me explain.”

It didn’t help.

You wanted to shoot this man already, with every fiber of your being. Your trust issues were rattling like fireworks in your brain, telling you that he was a liar, that he was trying to get you vulnerable, catch you off guard. But against your better judgment, you nodded, hanging fire for him to go on.

"There's a, uh, little girl. Her name's Ellie. About a year ago, Marlene asked me and a friend o’mine to smuggle her out of Boston, where we were, in exchange for some guns. We agreed. But Marlene didn’t tell us why,” Joel began, sighing before going on. “Come to find out, little girl was infected, but the bite was three weeks old.”

A pause.

“She was immune.”

You tense again, like you had been over and over again since Joel had walked into your house. That word, that fucking word. That word that made your blood run cold. Made your head spin. Made horrid memories rush to the front of your brain.

Immune.

You raised your eyebrows at Joel in disbelief of the three words that had just fled his lips. “That’s impossible,” you said. “You’re lying.”

“I’m not,” he returned a little too quickly. “I was thinkin’ the same way you are. Ready to kill her right there and then when I found out. Thought Marlene set us up, knew it was only a matter of time before she’d turn and catch us by surprise. But the little girl, Ellie, wasn’t lyin.”

You grimace. A fucking little girl. You didn’t even want to ask how old she was.

Because if this was going where you thought it was, then your heart was going to ache a whole lot more.

“Our journey had its ups and downs. We had to reroute over and over again. Fireflies can be pretty damn hard to find these days. But we ended up finding out that most of the ones who were remaining, were in Utah, holed up in some medical center. Ready to make a cure.”

Joel was about to go on, keep explaining. But he didn’t have to.

You cut him off.

“I’ve heard this one before,” you laughed, but it wasn’t one of amusement, let alone humorous at all. It was one of disbelief, because how in the fuck had the universe spared you that day, just to bring it back to your feet? A scoff escapes your lips, and you sigh, pushing your tongue into your cheek before answering. “Saint Mary’s, isn’t it?��

Joel furrowed his eyebrows. “How’d-” he said in confusion, wondering if he had accidentally let it slip a few minutes ago in his hasty battle to keep an arrow out of his brain. “How’d you know?”

It’s your turn to be confused. If Marlene had really sent this man all this way to come find you, you figured she wouldn’t have spared him the details on the true nature of your connection, or lack thereof, to Marlene. “Are you kidding me? I’ve lived this,” you say, a bit of malice behind your words as you raise your bow. “And if you think I’m going to go through that again, you better think fucking twice,” you warned.

Joel scoffed, undeterred by your threatened show of violence. He had seen scarier in his over twenty years in the apocalypse, and he was sure that if you wanted to shoot him, which you were more than capable of doing, you would have done it by now. "Little lady, I am not asking you too, alright? There's more to it."

Your expression doesn’t get any more welcoming, much to Joel’s annoyance. “Then you better get to talking, because I’m dying for an excuse to shoot you. Pun intended.”

Killing a bloater is easier than suppressing an eye roll at your words.

"Look, that girl and her bite, Marlene thinks that the head surgeon over at the Fireflies could fix up a cure. A cure for mankind. But she can’t undergo the surgery alone, not unless, unless—”

You finish for him.

“Not unless she dies.”

Joel nods, his feelings too grim to ask how you know that. He was sure that there’d be lots to uncover about you, that is, if you agreed to come back to Utah alongside him. “Right. And Marlene said, that if I found you, there’s a chance you could undergo the surgery with Ellie. And she’d survive.”

You take his words in, mulling them over in your head. The survivor in you was screaming to not let your feelings take hold. That no matter how desperate this man was for you to come with him, you would have to decline. But your conscious, the moral part of you that somehow persevered no matter how cruel this world had been to you, was bellowing. It wasn’t fair, what was happening to that little girl. It wasn’t fair that she would have to die to fix a world that was arguable beyond fixing.

But then again, what had happened to you was unfair too. And so was this unexpected arrival.

“You’re asking me to leave the comfort of my own home, travel across the damn country, go off with a man I don’t fucking know, all for a goddamn chance?” you asked. There was no violence behind your words this time. Just disbelief, incredulousness. “Who the fuck do you think I am?”

Joel never lowered his hands as he spoke. “Look, I know you’re uncertain, and I would be too. But this girl, Ellie, she—” he paused, doing his best to maintain his composure. “I just can’t lose her, okay? I can’t.”

Now your face relaxes, if only a little bit. You can see the raw and vulnerable look in Joel’s eyes, the gloss to his brown eyes that shines in the dim light of your house.

“You’ve grown attached to this girl, haven’t you?”

Joel Miller was a tough man. Feelings weren’t in the cards for him. Not since Tess, not since Sarah. And for the love of God, if he could turn them off and never feel again, it’s likely that he would. So for now, he doesn’t tell you how much Ellie really means to him, returning to the cold approach he took on the world before he met her. "Yeah. Yeah, I guess I have, not that that matters,” he dismisses. “Point is, lady, if I have to drag you out of here kickin' and screamin', I will. But I ain't leavin' without’cha."

You scoffed. "You don't even know my name."

Well, for some reason, you figured he didn’t. But just then, he said it, proving you wrong in seconds.

“Ain’t it?”

Don’tfeeldon’tfeeldon’tfeel.

You and this man were more alike than you knew.

Rolling your eyes, you speak up once again, pushing your feelings down into the gutter where they belong. “Let me tell you this, Miller. I gave up the hope a long time ago that there was anyone else out there like me, and so did Marlene. Why in the hell should I believe you?" you ask.

Joel parts his lips to speak, but words don’t come out. You were right. He had given you no reason to believe him, to trust him, and especially not, like you’d said, to leave the comfort of your own home and join him on his quest to save mankind, to save Ellie, if she was actually fucking real.

There’s a brief pause before he answers. "I don't know how else I can convince you. I can't, to be honest. But Ellie, she needs you. I can't let her die."

You paused for a second, allowing his words to sink in. God, you were apprehensive, but he, he was adamant. And the look in his eyes was tearing your survivalist ideologies to the ground.

"Saint Mary’s ain't close,” you say.

Joel’s eyes light up. It’s not a yes, but it’s hope. "I know,” he says. “I've got a car."

"A car?" you asked in shock. What more did this man have up his sleeve? You hadn't seen a working car in years. They weren’t easy to come by, and even if they were, gas was a major aspect of why nobody had cars anymore. Marlene and the Fireflies used to always have them, but because it’d been so long since you’d last seen her or a Firefly in general, you couldn't actually remember the last time you'd driven one.

"Yeah, it's a means of gettin’ around, kind of like-" Joel began. Annoyedly, you cut him off.

Did you really look that young?

"I know what a car is,” you said in annoyance. “Haven't seen one in years. You really have one?"

Joel decided to ignore your offended response, though it was hard to suppress a smirk at just how offended you’d gotten. "Yeah, I do. I told you, I'm not lyin'. Not about the car, not about Marlene, and not about Ellie. I promise.”

Promise.

You had it engraved in your brain that the word promise was a synonym for lie. It was just a kinder, less harsh way of putting it. But regardless, they were bullshit. Promises weren’t real. This wasn’t real. Joel wasn’t real.

You want to pinch your arm to make sure. Then you realize you’ve never had dreams this vivid.

You hated your face for the way it relaxed. You hated the fact that you could hear the genuineness in his tone, the converse of lies in his gruff demeanor. You hated the way your crossbow unconsciously lowered.

And you were going to hate Joel Miller for sure.

“You try anything, Miller—” you bark.

Joel’s eyes light up once again, and he can’t help the small smile that takes the corners of his lips. "You’ll put one between my eyes, I know. And I won’t, I promise.”

“So are you comin’ or what?”

"Not so fast," you said quickly, shaking your head. "Give me some time to pack, mull it over a little more. You owe me that."

Joel wanted to protest, just a little bit. But he refrained, nodded, and crossed his arms over his chest. “Yes, ma’am.”

Your eyes remained watchful, fixed on Joel as you walked backwards to the top floor.

There, in your bedroom, you think over what just happened. Were you really going to do this? Were you really going to risk the life you had created, all for a chance? Who the fuck were you right now, and what had you done with the tough woman you had always been?

You were about to let your morals cloud your judgment, traveling far and wide to save a little girl you didn’t know, alongside a man you were sure you were going to hate. You were about to throw away all you’d become, all you’d ever wanted to be since what went down with the Fireflies all those years ago. With Marlene.

God fucking damnit.

What the fuck had you gotten yourself into?

if you made it to the end of this, i really hope you liked it! please consider leaving a reblog, as they help my work immensely <3 kisses!

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reidmarieprentiss · 2 months ago

Text

Too Damn Young: Part Two

Summary: You and Spencer have been separated for three years, is that enough time to move on? For you, it would appear it is. Spencer doesn't know what to do when he gets your save-the-date in the mail.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: fluff, hurt/comfort, angst

Warnings/Includes: talks of divorce, keeping secrets from partner, alcohol consumption, impulsive decisions, breakups, argument with intoxicated Spencer, happy ending

Word count: 14k

a/n: sorry this took so long i got a very specific case of writer's block for this story ://

main masterlist part one

Three years had passed since Spencer Reid had moved away from you, but despite the physical distance, the love and bond you shared had managed to survive. Though the romantic part of your relationship had ended, your friendship remained strong and unbreakable.

Spencer kept you updated on his work at the BAU, sharing stories from the field and the challenges he faced. When your mom got married, knowing how difficult that event was for you, Spencer took time off from work to attend the wedding with you. His support was unwavering, even when he couldn’t be there in person. You would visit Diana when Spencer couldn’t, helping out in ways that kept you connected not only to him but also to his family.

Spencer continued to speak with your father regularly, keeping that connection alive even as your lives had diverged in different directions. In all, the two of you remained close, and your friendship had evolved into something even more profound, built on shared experiences, trust, and the deep understanding that comes from truly knowing each other.

A rock was thrown into the friendship you shared with Spencer, however, when he received a save-the-date card in the mail, addressed to him. As soon as he saw your name on it, so many emotions swarmed through his body that it made him physically ill. He scanned the card, his hands trembling as he tried to process the words. You were getting married. Again.

Spencer hadn’t even known you were seeing anyone, and now you were marrying someone? The realization hit him like a punch to the gut. His stomach twisted, and before he could stop it, he wretched and threw up, the shock and emotions overwhelming him completely.

He knew, logically, that the two of you were long since over. He had tried to move on. He had seen people off and on, but never took anything too seriously, never fully allowed himself to fall. Because, in the back of his mind, Spencer had always assumed that the two of you were destined to find your way back to each other. He never let go of that hope, and now, seeing your save-the-date, that hope was shattered.

In a moment of sheer panic and desperation, Spencer dialed Derek’s number, his voice breaking as he begged, “Please, Derek… come over, I—I need you.” He was crying, the words tumbling out incoherently, leaving Derek no choice but to rush to his best friend’s side, not knowing what had caused such an outburst of emotion.

When Derek arrived, Spencer had managed to somewhat compose himself, though the distress was still written all over his face. He motioned for Derek to sit, and with shaky breaths, he spilled everything. From the day you and Spencer met in Tahoe, to the whirlwind of dating, to your marriage, and ultimately, the divorce. Spencer had kept this part of his life hidden from the team, only ever referring to you as a “friend from college,” never revealing the deep connection the two of you once shared.

Derek listened, taking it all in with wide eyes, surprised but trying to make sense of it. Spencer had never been one to open up about personal matters, let alone something this big.

Then, Spencer threw the save-the-date card onto the table in front of Derek, the final piece of the puzzle falling into place. Derek picked it up, his face softening with understanding. He could see why this had devastated Spencer, why the younger man had broken down.

“Man… I didn’t know,” Derek said quietly, his voice filled with empathy. “I didn’t know you were still holding onto that.”

Spencer rubbed his eyes, his whole body slumped in defeat. “I thought… I thought maybe one day… we’d find our way back to each other. But now… she’s marrying someone else.”

Derek shook his head, unsure of what advice to offer. How do you console someone who’s just realized the future they’d been holding onto no longer existed?

“I’m sorry, Reid,” Derek sighed, pulling Spencer into a tight hug, feeling the weight of his friend's emotions. He didn’t know what else to say. He could feel how deeply this was hurting Spencer, and it pained him to see his best friend like this. “What are you going to do?”

Spencer leaned into Derek’s embrace, his body still trembling slightly as he huffed out a breath. “I guess… I’m going to the wedding,” he said, his voice filled with resignation. “She’s my best friend. I can’t… not be there for her.”

Derek, trying to find a way to lift the mood, jolted Spencer a bit, grinning mischievously. “Excuse you? I thought your best friend was sitting in front of you right now.”

A small laugh escaped Spencer, a brief moment of light in the middle of his turmoil. “You're right,” he admitted, chuckling softly. “Thank you, Derek. Really.”

Derek smiled, glad to have gotten a laugh out of him, but he knew it would take more than that to pull Spencer out of his spiral. So, for the rest of the day, Derek stayed by his side, doing whatever Spencer wanted—whether it was playing chess, watching documentaries, or just sitting in silence. Anything to keep his mind off the fact that the love of his life was getting married to someone else.

And, perhaps worst of all, she hadn’t told him anything about it until the save-the-date arrived. That, Derek knew, was what was really eating at Spencer—the idea that he wasn’t as much a part of your life as he once thought.

—

Spencer hadn’t reached out since receiving your save-the-date, unable to find the right words. Instead, he threw himself into spending more time with his colleagues and friends, agreeing to every social outing they planned. He was trying to distract himself, to drown out the constant noise in his head about what your upcoming marriage meant for him.

Tonight, he found himself whiskey tasting with Rossi, Hotch, and Derek. As the evening wore on and the whiskey flowed freely, their conversations grew looser, more personal. Rossi and Hotch began comparing their divorce stories, laughing about their past pain and the fleeting joys of their marriages. Derek looked over at Spencer, knowing full well the turmoil going on beneath his quiet exterior, being the only one who knew about Spencer’s secret heartbreak.

Spencer seemed to be somewhere else entirely, lost in his own world, not really listening to the conversation. Derek wasn’t sure if that was good or bad, but he was silently relieved when Spencer excused himself to go to the bathroom. Maybe it was better if he didn’t hear the rest of this conversation.

But instead of heading to the bathroom, Spencer stepped outside, pulling out his phone and making a decision he would soon regret. His fingers fumbled as he dialed your number. The alcohol had loosened his inhibitions, and all the pent-up frustration and hurt were boiling over.

The worst part? You answered.

“Spencer? Hi!” Your voice was warm but slightly distracted. “I’m still at work, is everything okay?”

Of course. The time difference. He hadn’t even thought about that. “I’m fine, Y/N,” he hiccuped, clearly not fine at all. “Well, no, I’m not. Why didn’t you tell me you were seeing someone?”

You were silent on the other end for a moment, the weight of his question hanging in the air. Finally, you sighed deeply. “Spencer… can we not do this right now? I can call you tomorrow.”

“No!” Spencer's voice was louder than intended, his frustration rising. “We need to do this now. I deserve an explanation.”

You sighed again, and Spencer could hear you moving around, likely retreating to a quieter place in your office. “Okay. Fair enough. I started seeing Noa about two years ago. They’re amazing, Spence. I just… I didn’t know how to tell you.”

“So you thought sending me a save-the-date was better?” Spencer’s voice raised again, the whiskey fueling his anger. “That’s messed up, and you know it.”

“I know,” you said quietly. “I was scared. I’m sorry.”

Spencer’s brain was spinning, but one thought stood out. “Wait… you’ve only been together for two years?” His voice had grown darker, accusatory.

“Yeah. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, okay?” you said, your voice strained but still calm, trying to diffuse the situation.

“You’re just rushing into marriage again!” Spencer shot back, the words spilling out before he could stop them. His frustration, his heartbreak, everything he had buried for the last five years, it all came pouring out.

“What?” you asked, your voice coming out small and weak, despite the fact that you wished it had been strong, confident, maybe even cold. But it wasn’t. The hurt you felt made it tremble.

Spencer scoffed, his frustration bubbling over. “You’re just jumping into another relationship without thinking about the consequences.”

You blinked, shocked at the accusation. “How would you know what I’m doing? I haven’t seen you since my mom’s wedding… that was three years ago,” you shot back, your voice firmer now, though still tinged with hurt.

“Right, how could I forget?” Spencer’s voice grew louder, his emotions spiraling out of control. “You were flirting with every pair of long legs that walked by, in front of me!”

You were taken aback, your heart pounding in disbelief. “What? No, I did not! And besides, what would it matter if I did?” you spat out, the pain in your voice evident now. “You left me, Spencer.”

The words hung in the air, heavy and full of unresolved heartache.

“Is that how you remember it?” Spencer asked, his heart breaking even more, his voice softer now but filled with sorrow.

“That’s how it happened,” you said, a tear slipping down your cheek, because as much as you loved him, as much as he had been a huge part of your life, the wound of his departure was still raw.

“Well, I’m very sorry that’s how you see it,” Spencer said, his voice steadying now as the alcohol-induced haze began to lift, leaving behind the weight of reality.

You nodded, even though you knew Spencer couldn’t see you, and tried to keep your voice from breaking. “Mhm,” you managed, holding back the sob that was lodged in your throat.

“That’s it?” Spencer pressed, his frustration giving way to something closer to disbelief.

“Mhm,” you repeated, not trusting yourself to say much more without unraveling completely.

“You don’t have anything else you want to say to me?”

A quiet, almost broken, “Mm mm,” was all you could offer. The tears were too close now, and speaking felt impossible.

There was a long pause on Spencer’s end, the tension between you both palpable even through the phone. “Bye, Y/N,” he said finally, the weight of those two words heavier than you’d ever imagined. And with that, Spencer hung up.

He returned to his friends at the whiskey tasting, but his heart wasn’t in it anymore. He opted out of the rest of the drinks, choosing instead to just sit in their company, trying to find some comfort in the camaraderie, even though his mind was miles away, back with you, replaying the conversation in his head.

—

As you sat in your office, the weight of the conversation with Spencer bearing down on you, the flood of emotions finally broke free. Your body shook with barely concealed sobs, and as much as you tried to hold it together, it was too much. The truth was painfully clear—you knew why you couldn’t bring yourself to tell Spencer about Noa. How could you possibly tell the man you were still in love with that you were marrying someone else, someone who was there to fill the void he left behind?

It wasn’t that you didn’t love Noa. You did—deeply. They were everything you could ask for in a partner—amazing, generous, loving, and you were genuinely ecstatic to marry them. But that didn’t change the fact that Spencer was still there in your heart, occupying a space that no one else ever could.

A knock sounded at the door, breaking through your thoughts. “Y/N? Sweetie, can I come in?” Alexi’s voice came from the other side. Your assistant manager, your number two, and more importantly, your best friend.

You wiped at your tear-streaked cheeks, trying to pull yourself together. “Yeah.”

Alexi pushed open the door, taking one look at your broken figure and immediately coming over. “Oh baby, what happened?” they asked, their voice soft with concern.

You sighed, pushing yourself up to sit on the desk beside them. “Spencer called… he’s upset.”

Alexi didn’t need you to explain more. They knew everything—they had been there after Spencer had left, helping you pick up the pieces of your life. They wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close in a comforting embrace. “I told you he wouldn’t react well,” they said, never one to sugarcoat the truth.

You let out a tearful laugh, nodding. “You did. And I should’ve listened.”

Alexi rubbed your back, offering silent support before they asked, “Are you going to tell Noa?”

You shook your head immediately. “No. Noa doesn’t need to know.”

Alexi’s sigh was deep, full of the understanding but firm truth they always brought to your conversations. “Yes, they do, sweetie. Spencer is always going to be a part of you. Noa deserves to know all of the person they’re marrying.”

You swallowed hard, feeling the truth of their words but resisting it all the same. “Spencer is… he’s mine, you know?” Your voice cracked slightly. “He’s a part of my past, encapsulated like a snow globe just for me. I don’t want Noa to know all the details. What if they don’t want to marry me if they do?”

Alexi squeezed your shoulder gently, looking you directly in the eyes. “Y/N… keeping secrets isn’t a good way to start a marriage. If Noa decides they don’t want to marry you because of what happened, then that’s how it’s going to be. But they deserve to know the whole person they’re committing to.”

The weight of their words sank in, but it didn’t make it any easier. You knew they were right. But admitting the depth of what Spencer still meant to you, and risking ruining another relationship because of it, felt impossible. Spencer was yours—a part of you that no one else could touch. And you didn’t want to lose anyone else by dragging him into your present, when he was meant to stay in the past, locked away safely in your heart and mind.

So you went along with the wedding planning, trying to stay present, but the excitement you had once felt for this kind of event was dimmed. Your moms, both of them now, took charge, pulling you and Alexi along for dress shopping. You went through the motions, smiling when you were supposed to, but in the back of your mind, it felt like something was always missing. Maybe it was because you had done this before—planning a wedding, preparing for a future you thought was set in stone. That time, you were marrying your best friend, your soulmate. Nothing could have brought you down.

Now, though, it felt like everything was falling apart.

You found a dress you didn’t hate, but when you discovered it wasn’t made in your size, your heart sank. The tailoring bills would be through the roof. And there was no way you could ask your parents to help with another wedding, let alone explain that to Noa. So you settled for a different dress, something more practical, less special. It was a compromise, and one of many.

Then there were the flowers—your (second) favorite flowers, the ones you had dreamed of having at your wedding since you got engaged. But you couldn’t have them. As it turned out, Noa was allergic. How that had eluded you for two years, you’d never know, but it felt like another loss, another thing you had to give up.

The food? That was another issue entirely. Noa was vegan and gluten-free, which was fine—you supported them in that. But it meant you couldn’t have any of the dishes you wanted at your wedding, and the excitement over picking a menu disappeared entirely. It wasn’t about the food; it was about the mounting compromises that made you feel like you were losing more of yourself in the process.

Then, as if the universe wanted to add insult to injury, the live band you’d booked canceled last minute. They refunded half the deposit, but it wasn’t nearly enough to book a new band, and you were left scrambling for a backup.

It was all a mess. And through it all, the only RSVP that mattered to you—Spencer’s—still remained unanswered. Even Diana had agreed to come, and your father had offered to travel with her from Nevada. But Spencer’s name sat unmarked on the list, and the weight of his silence felt heavier than everything else combined.

—

It was late, and the bullpen was eerily quiet—long after everyone else had gone home for the night. The soft, dim glow of desk lamps was the only light illuminating the space, and Spencer sat hunched over at his desk, staring blankly at a stack of files, though his mind was miles away. He couldn’t concentrate, couldn’t shake the thoughts of you that had been circling his mind like an endless loop ever since that phone call. The way your voice had cracked, the words you hadn't said hanging heavy in the silence afterward.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair, the weight of it all pressing down on his chest like a vice. Spencer didn’t notice Penelope walking out of her office until she was standing right in front of him, her bright pink coat draped over one arm, a concerned look etched on her face.

“Hey, Boy Wonder,” she said softly, leaning against his desk. “What are you still doing here? It’s way past your bedtime.”

Spencer glanced up at her, forcing a small, weak smile that didn't reach his eyes. “Just... thinking, I guess,” he murmured, looking back down at the files in front of him, though he wasn’t really reading them.

Penelope’s eyes narrowed slightly. She knew Spencer well enough to recognize when something was wrong, and this didn’t look like his typical bouts of insomnia. “Uh-uh, that won’t fly,” she said, her tone firm but gentle. “What’s really going on, Reid?”

He hesitated, his fingers nervously tapping against the edge of his desk. He didn’t know where to begin, how to explain the mess of feelings tangled up inside him—the regret, the longing, the fear that he’d lost you for good. But Penelope had a way of pulling things out of him, and before he knew it, he was talking. Telling her everything.

“It’s... it’s about someone from my past,” Spencer admitted, staring down at his hands. He could feel the heat rising in his face, the weight of the secret that he’d kept for so long bearing down on him. “Her name is Y/N. We... we were close.”

Penelope’s eyes widened as she quickly pulled out the chair across from Spencer and sat down, leaning in closer. “Wait, wait, wait, slow down,” she said, a look of shock and curiosity flashing across her face. “Who is Y/N? And how do I not know about her? You’ve never mentioned her before, Spencer!”

Spencer ran a hand through his hair, fidgeting nervously. “That’s kind of the point. I never told anyone. Well... except Morgan, recently. But... it’s complicated, Penelope.”

“Complicated how?” Penelope’s voice was gentle, but there was an urgency to it—a desire to understand. “How... close were you two?”

Spencer hesitated, his fingers tapping anxiously against the edge of his desk. He knew he couldn’t keep everything bottled up any longer. “We were... really close. We met when we were both eighteen, and we... got married. And then divorced. And then stayed friends,” he said quickly, the words tumbling out all at once. “And I never told anyone because it felt like... like this part of my life that didn’t fit with everything else. Like a different person I used to be.”

Penelope’s jaw dropped, and for once, she was speechless. Her eyes darted around his face, as if trying to comprehend the enormity of what he’d just shared. “Spencer Reid, you were married?” she finally managed to say, her voice squeaking at the end. “And divorced? And you never... you never said anything?”

Spencer gave a small, helpless shrug. “Yeah. I know, I should’ve told you all a long time ago. But it’s... it’s a lot to explain, and I guess I just... buried it.”

Penelope blinked a few times, trying to process everything. “Okay, okay,” she said, holding up a hand to stop herself from spiraling. “So... Y/N. You were married to her. And now you’re... friends?”

Spencer nodded, feeling a mixture of relief and anxiety at finally sharing this part of his life. “Yeah, friends. We kept in touch over the years. But she’s... she’s getting married again. And I... I found out through a save-the-date in the mail.”

“Whoa, wait, wait,” Penelope cut in, holding up her hand. “She’s getting married? Like, married married? And she didn’t tell you?”

He nodded, the pain in his chest tightening at the memory. “Yeah. And I got upset, and I—I probably said some things I shouldn’t have. And now... I can’t stop thinking about her, and it’s driving me crazy.”

Penelope’s expression softened, her eyes filled with understanding. She reached across the desk, placing her hand over Spencer’s. “Spencer,” she said softly, “you know why you can’t stop thinking about her, right?”

Spencer sighed, biting his lip as he nodded. “Because I still love her,” he admitted, the words feeling both like a relief and a weight off his shoulders. “I never stopped. I thought I was fine with just being her friend, with us being apart, but...”

“But you’re not fine,” Penelope finished for him, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. “And you don’t have to be. She was your first love, and that kind of thing doesn’t just go away.”

“I know.” He closed his eyes, shaking his head as if trying to clear his thoughts. “But she’s engaged, and she seems happy. I can’t just... disrupt her life like that.”

Penelope let out a soft huff, her eyes full of determination. “Spencer Reid, I know you like to overthink things, but this is one of those times where you need to be honest. If you have feelings for her, if you think there’s a chance—any chance—that she feels the same way, then you owe it to yourself to tell her. Before it’s too late.”

Spencer looked up at her, a flicker of hope mixing with fear in his eyes. “But what if it is too late? What if... what if she doesn’t feel the same? What if I just make everything worse?”

Penelope’s smile was soft but firm, her voice steady as she spoke. “That’s a risk you’ll have to take, Reid. But it’s better to take that risk than to spend the rest of your life wondering what if. You deserve to be happy. And if she’s the person who makes you happy, then you need to fight for that.”

Spencer didn’t respond right away, the weight of her words settling over him as he considered them. He had spent so long running from his feelings, trying to bury them under the guise of friendship, trying to convince himself that he was okay with you moving on. But the truth was, he wasn’t okay. And maybe, just maybe, he needed to do something about it.

“Thanks, Penelope,” he said quietly, a small, genuine smile finally tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I... I think I needed to hear that.”

She grinned, standing up and patting his shoulder. “Anytime, genius. Now go home, get some rest, and think about what you’re going to say. You’ve got this.”

And with that, she walked away, leaving Spencer alone in the quiet bullpen, but with a sense of clarity he hadn’t felt in years. He knew what he needed to do. It was terrifying, it was messy, but it was right.

He needed to talk to you. To tell you how he felt. Before it really was too late.

—

The hours of the night ticked by slowly as Spencer lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling of his apartment. Every attempt to sleep had been thwarted by the constant thoughts of you—the weight of the conversation with Penelope, the memories of your time together, and the sharp, raw feeling that he was running out of time. He couldn’t shake it. Every breath felt heavier than the last, and the silence of his apartment only amplified the whirlwind of emotions crashing around in his head.

At some point, the moonlight gave way to the faintest hint of dawn, but still, Spencer didn’t sleep. He just lay there, feeling like a boy again, filled with that same sense of panic and yearning he hadn’t felt in years. But there, in the early morning light, it finally hit him—what he had to do.

He shot up in bed, heart pounding, the idea forming fully in his mind. He had to tell you. He couldn’t wait any longer; he couldn’t let the fear, or doubt, or whatever this was, stop him. He had to tell you how he felt, face-to-face. Whatever happened, whatever you said, at least then he could say he tried.

Before he knew what he was doing, he was on his feet, pacing the length of his room, grabbing his phone, his wallet, hastily packing a bag. He barely had time to think the plan through—there was no plan. There was only the need to see you, to make things right, or at least to make his feelings known. He booked a flight to California within minutes, his hands shaking as he entered his credit card details, the urgency pushing him forward with every click.

The airport was a blur of noise and motion. The world seemed to move around him while his focus remained narrowed to a single thought—you. Spencer sat in his seat on the plane, the hours of the flight feeling endless as his knee bounced restlessly, and his fingers drummed against the armrest. He had no idea what he would say to you, how he would find the words to make sense of everything. He only knew that he had to see you.

When the plane finally landed, the sun was bright and warm, the California heat a stark contrast to the cool air of Virginia. He didn’t even take a moment to collect himself; he just grabbed his bag and rushed through the terminal, out into the familiar streets he hadn’t seen in years. The world around him blurred with motion and sound, but none of it registered. His only thought was getting to you.

But as Spencer stepped outside of the airport, the rush of determination he felt on the plane quickly started to fizzle out. The realization hit him like a punch to the gut—he had no idea where you lived anymore. The apartment you had shared when you were married was long gone, and though he kept up with you through your phone calls and letters, he didn’t know if you and your fiancé had found a place of your own, if you were living together at all.

He stood on the sidewalk, the California sun beating down on him, making him feel both restless and lost. There was no time to panic, though; he had come all this way, and he couldn’t just stand there like a fool. He needed to find you. And fast.

The next best thing was to hail a cab and give the driver directions to the one place he knew you would eventually be—your bookstore. He paid the fare quickly and grabbed his bags, rushing inside the shop, his eyes darting around, scanning the familiar shelves, the worn floorboards, the comforting smell of old books.

A bell above the door chimed as he stepped inside, and a young employee behind the counter looked up, offering a polite smile. “Hi, welcome in,” they said, but their voice didn’t really register. Spencer was too caught up in the whirlwind of his thoughts, in the desperation that had brought him here.

“Is Y/N here?” he rushed out, his voice high with nerves, his hands clenched tightly around the strap of his bag.

The employee’s smile faltered slightly at the urgency in his voice, and they gave him a curious look, one that seemed to ask who the hell he was and why he seemed so frantic. “Um, no, she’s not here,” they said slowly. “She’s wedding planning today.”

Spencer’s heart sank further. Of course, you’d be busy with wedding planning—it was all you were doing these days. But the reality of it stung, like a reminder that he was too late, that you were already too far gone into your new life.

“Do you know where I could find her?” he asked, trying to keep the pleading tone out of his voice but failing. He was holding onto the hope that maybe, just maybe, he could track you down.

But the employee just shook their head, their face softening into a look of pity. “No, sorry. I really don’t. I think she’s meeting with a wedding planner or looking at venues, something like that.”

Spencer swallowed hard, feeling the walls of the bookstore closing in on him. He had been so sure of what he needed to do, so convinced that coming here would give him the answers he was looking for. But now, standing there, with no clue where to go next, he felt like a man adrift, a stranger in a place that was once so familiar.

“Okay,” he managed to choke out, trying to keep his voice steady. “Thank you.”

“Uh, yeah, sure,” the employee replied, their eyes still fixed on him like he was a puzzle they couldn’t quite figure out.

Spencer turned on his heel and walked out of the store, the bell chiming behind him as he left. He stood on the sidewalk, taking a deep breath to steady himself, to fight back the rising panic. He didn’t know where you were. He had no idea how to find you. And he had no plan.

But he wasn’t ready to give up. Not yet.

Spencer stood on the sidewalk, the desperation clawing at his chest like a living thing. His heart pounded, the reality of his situation finally starting to sink in. He had come all this way, but he didn’t know where to find you.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket, his fingers shaking as he quickly dialed Penelope. She picked up on the first ring, her voice chirping through the line. “Hey, genius, what’s up?”

“Penelope,” he said quickly, the urgency in his voice making it clear that this wasn’t a casual call. “I need your help. I need to know where Y/N lives. Can you find her address?”

“What? Wait, why? Spencer, what’s going on?” Penelope’s voice was full of confusion, and he could hear her clicking away on her keyboard in the background.

“There’s no time to explain. Please, just... please, Penelope, can you find it?” He knew he was asking a lot, putting her on the spot like this, but he didn’t know what else to do. He needed to see you.

“Okay, okay, hang on,” she said, the rapid clicking of her keyboard growing louder as she searched for your information. “Got it. She lives at XXXX S Higuera St.”

“Thank you,” Spencer said, the words rushing out of him like a breath he’d been holding in. “I owe you one.”

“Yeah, you do,” Penelope said, her voice somewhere between worried and annoyed. “Now go get her, cowboy.”

Spencer hung up and flagged down another cab, rattling off your address to the driver, who sped off in the direction of your house. The drive felt longer than it should have, every minute dragging on like an eternity, the silence in the car filled only with the beating of his heart and the hum of the engine. He watched the city rush by in a blur, every moment bringing him closer to you.

When they finally pulled up to the row of houses, Spencer fumbled with his wallet, throwing bills at the driver and mumbling a hurried “Keep the change,” before jumping out, his bag slung over his shoulder. He stood in front of your house, staring at the navy-blue door that stood between him and you. This was it. There was no going back now.

He lifted his hand and knocked, the sound echoing louder than he anticipated, every thud ringing in his ears. And then he waited, holding his breath as he heard footsteps approaching the door, his whole body tense and shaking with anticipation.

The door swung open, and there you were. You looked different than he’d remembered, yet exactly the same. Your eyes widened in shock, your phone still pressed to your ear.

“Uh, Alexi, I’m going to have to call you back,” you said into the phone, your voice thick with surprise. “Yeah, I’m fine.” There was a pause, and then you said softly, “Thank you, love you too. Bye.” You hung up, your eyes never leaving his, the weight of the moment hanging heavy between you.

“Spencer? What the fuck?” you finally said, and the sound of your voice hit him like a punch—familiar, angry, bewildered, and all of it wrapped in a painful confusion.

He took a breath, trying to steady himself, to find the words he’d rehearsed in his mind a hundred times, but they all fled as he stood there, face-to-face with you. He was speechless, overwhelmed by everything he felt, and everything he hadn’t let himself feel for so long.

“I—” he started, but his voice faltered. He took another breath, gathering his thoughts. “I know this is... a surprise. I know you’re mad. But I had to come, Y/N. I had to see you. I just... I need to talk to you.”

“You couldn’t call?” you asked, the mix of surprise and annoyance evident in your voice. You were clearly caught off guard by his sudden appearance, and you had every right to be. Spencer was out of breath, the tension between you almost unbearable as he searched for the right words.

“It’s too important,” he managed, his voice a blend of urgency and regret. He could feel the weight of the moment pressing down on him, the desperation to make you understand why he was here.

You stared at him for a moment longer, a storm of emotions flashing across your face—confusion, frustration, and something softer that he couldn't quite place. “Okay... come in.” Your voice was softer now, but guarded.

You stepped back, allowing him to walk into the foyer. The smell of your home washed over him—familiar, yet different from the last place you shared together. He followed as you led him into the living room, the warmth of the space feeling like an extension of you. The cozy seating, soft lighting, and small personal touches made it welcoming and lived-in.

“Just... stay here for a minute,” you said quietly before disappearing into another room, leaving Spencer standing awkwardly by the couch. He took in everything—the framed photos on the walls, the plants that seemed to thrive under your care, the comfortable arrangement of the furniture. It all felt so you, and so foreign to him at the same time.

After a few minutes, you returned, carrying two cups of tea in your hands. You set one down in front of him and sat down across from him, holding your own cup tightly, as if it was anchoring you. “Sorry,” you murmured, avoiding his gaze. “I don’t have your brand anymore.”

Spencer gave a small, understanding nod, a bittersweet smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “It’s okay,” he said softly. He cradled the cup between his hands, feeling the warmth seep through his fingers. He didn’t know how to start, how to break the silence that felt so loud between you. All he knew was that he needed to be here, to find the right words, to make sense of this tangled mess of feelings.

The only sound was the faint clinking of the spoon against the porcelain as you stirred your tea, neither of you looking at each other, both waiting for someone to break the silence.

Spencer glanced down at the steam rising from his cup, feeling the burn of your words more than the heat of the tea. He knew you were right—the last time you spoke, things were... ugly. Painful. He had been angry, and confused, and felt like he was losing you all over again.

“Why are you here, Spencer?” you sighed, your voice carrying the exhaustion of all the times you’d thought about him, about the complicated knot of your past. “Last time we talked, you seemed pretty pissed.”

He winced, gripping the cup tighter, feeling the porcelain edge bite into his skin. “I know,” he said quietly, finally daring to look up and meet your eyes. “I was... I was angry. And I shouldn’t have—I didn’t mean to take it out on you like that. I—” He paused, fumbling for the right words. “I shouldn’t have called you, not like that. It wasn’t fair.”

You stayed quiet, your eyes searching his face, waiting for the explanation you knew was coming. Spencer felt himself shrinking under the weight of your gaze, but he pressed on, knowing this was the only chance he had to make things right. “I came here because... because I need to talk to you. To see you.” He took a breath, the words coming out more rushed now, desperate. “And I know it’s selfish, but I couldn't stop thinking about you—about us. About everything we never said.”

The tension hung in the air, like a line pulled taut between you, ready to snap. He leaned forward, his voice pleading. “Please, just hear me out. Let me say what I came here to say.”

You felt your blood drain from your face, a cold, tingling numbness spreading through your body. This was it, the conversation you’d been dreading—and yet, somehow, you knew it was inevitable. Your heart hammered against your ribs, your skin prickling with anxiety as sweat began to bead on your upper lip. You swallowed hard, gripping your cup tightly, using it as your anchor, grounding yourself in the reality of this moment.

All you could do was nod. There were so many things you wanted to say, to shout, to demand from him—but the words lodged themselves in your throat, refusing to come out. So, you stayed silent, allowing Spencer to speak, knowing you needed to hear whatever he had traveled all this way to say.

He took a deep breath, his fingers shaking slightly as he set his cup down on the table. He couldn’t look at you directly; it was too much. Instead, his eyes darted around the room, focusing on anything but your face, as he tried to gather his thoughts.

“I know this is... a lot,” he began, his voice barely above a whisper. “And I know that I have no right to come here and just... drop all of this on you.” He ran a hand through his hair, a familiar nervous gesture that made your heart ache. “But I need to be honest, because I can’t keep living with these... feelings and regrets.”

He finally forced himself to look at you, his eyes searching yours, pleading silently for you to understand. “When I called you that night, I was angry. Not only at you, but at myself. Because I realized I’ve never let you go. I thought that maybe if I stayed away, if I just... buried everything, it would go away. But it hasn’t.”

You felt your breath catch in your throat, his words hitting you like a wave, pulling you under. Your heart pounded harder, hope, fear, and dread swirling in your chest.

Spencer’s voice shook as he continued, the vulnerability in his words cutting through the tension. “I came here to tell you that I still love you,” he said, his eyes burning into yours, his face a mask of raw emotion. “I don’t know what that means for us, or if it changes anything. I just... I needed you to know. Because I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t at least tell you the truth.”

The silence that followed was deafening, your mind racing as you absorbed his confession. This was the moment you had both avoided for so long, the moment where everything hung in the balance. You could feel your heart hammering against your ribs, each beat echoing in the room as you processed his words.

“Please,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “Just... tell me what you’re thinking. Say something. Anything.”

“What do you want me to say?” you choked out, your voice strained and small, the whirlwind of emotions clawing at your insides making it impossible to find the right words. Everything he was saying felt like it came from a different lifetime—a different you, a different him, a different version of the love you used to share.

“Anything, please,” Spencer begged, his eyes wide and frantic as he searched your face for a hint of what you were feeling. “What are you thinking?”

You swallowed, feeling the words spill out before you could stop them. “I’m getting married,” you said, the reality of it crashing down on you like a wave.

Spencer’s head dropped immediately, his shoulders slumping as if all the life had drained out of him. “I know,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, sounding as if saying the words broke something inside him. “I just thought maybe—”

“Maybe?” You couldn’t keep the sharpness from your voice, the anger and pain flooding through your system and finding their way into the space between you. “Maybe what?” You snapped, your emotions boiling over, unable to place what exactly you were feeling—love, anger, guilt, sadness, all at once, and none of them making sense. “You think you can just show up here and what? That I’d—”

But before you could finish, before either of you could continue spiraling down this road of raw and messy confessions, the jingle of keys being put into a lock pierced through the tense air, and both of your heads snapped toward the front door. Your blood ran cold as you realized what it meant.

Noa was home.

Your fiancé stepped inside, the warm light from the hallway spilling in behind them, painting the moment in a surreal glow. They were smiling, the familiar, comforting smile that you had come to know so well—one that could normally bring you peace. But now, the sight of them there, standing in the doorway while Spencer sat on your couch, made your heart plummet.

“Hey, babe,” Noa’s voice was light and warm as they shrugged off their jacket, the smile still on their face, though it faltered slightly when they saw Spencer sitting in the living room. “Who’s this?”

Your throat tightened, your mouth suddenly dry, and you felt your voice catch as you tried to find the words to explain, to introduce, to do anything that made sense.

Spencer, too, had gone completely still, his face pale, as if the reality of your life without him had hit all at once. This was the moment he hadn’t prepared for, the part of your life that he didn’t fit into, and it was staring him straight in the face.

“Hey, baby,” you said, the words catching in your throat, but forcing them out with a smile that you hoped looked normal, even as you felt Spencer flinch beside you. He knew that phrase all too well—the way you’d say it when you greeted him after a long day, the warmth and comfort that came with it. But now it was meant for someone else, and the reality of that cut through him like a knife.

Noa’s eyes darted between the two of you, clearly trying to make sense of the situation, their smile wavering. “This is Spencer,” you continued, trying to keep your voice steady, trying to make the introduction sound casual, like this wasn’t a huge, life-altering moment. “Um, he’s an old friend. He was in the neighborhood and... stopped by.”

You hated the way the lie sat on your tongue, the way it felt so heavy, so wrong. But what choice did you have? How were you supposed to explain who Spencer was to you—what he was to you? Especially now, when everything was in chaos and your heart felt like it was being split in two. So, you forced yourself to smile, to make it seem like there was nothing more to it than a surprise visit from someone you used to know.

Noa’s face softened a bit, their guard dropping as they took a step closer, holding out a hand to Spencer. “Oh, nice to meet you,” they said kindly, their eyes gentle and curious. “I’ve heard a lot about Y/N’s friends from back in the day, but I don’t think your name ever came up.”

Spencer managed a tight smile, shaking Noa’s hand as he fought to steady himself. “Yeah, it’s... nice to meet you too,” he said, his voice quieter than usual, the discomfort and awkwardness bleeding into every word. It was all so surreal, so painfully normal on the surface when everything underneath was chaos.

Noa looked between the two of you again, oblivious to the tension, and then smiled wider, turning their attention back to you. “I picked up takeout from that place you love on 5th. Figured we could have a low-key night in.”

“Yeah,” you nodded quickly, trying to swallow down the lump in your throat. “That sounds perfect. Really... perfect.”

Noa’s hand slipped around your waist, and you could feel Spencer's eyes burning into you, the unspoken words swirling around all of you like a storm. You knew you had to get him out of here—this wasn’t the time, and now was definitely not the place for whatever this was.

“Actually, um, Spencer was just leaving,” you said quickly, turning to him with pleading eyes. “Right, Spence?”

He looked at you, his expression unreadable, so many emotions passing through his eyes that it made you dizzy. But finally, he nodded, standing up slowly, the movement heavy with everything left unsaid. “Yeah... right. It was, um... nice seeing you, Y/N. Thanks for the tea.”

“Nonsense,” Noa cut in with a laugh, and you felt your stomach sink. “Join us,” they insisted, their voice warm and friendly as always. “I got enough for leftovers, but we’re fine with sharing, right, Y/N?” They gave you a light squeeze around your waist, completely unaware of the tension in the room, or the storm that had just been brewing moments before.

You felt your throat close up, the air around you becoming thin as panic gripped you. This was not supposed to happen—Spencer wasn’t supposed to stay, wasn’t supposed to be a part of this cozy, intimate meal with you and Noa. Your lives had already diverged, the gap too wide to bring together in a setting like this.

“Uh...” you started, your voice wavering, trying to find a way out of this without raising suspicion. But Noa’s hand was on your back, rubbing comforting circles, and they were looking at Spencer with nothing but open hospitality in their eyes.

“Come on, the more the merrier,” Noa urged, already turning to set their bags down on the counter, oblivious to the pleading look you gave Spencer.

Spencer’s face twisted with hesitation. He looked at you, then back at Noa, clearly torn between what he wanted and what he knew was best. “Really, I don’t want to intrude. I just... came to say hi.” His voice was small, and the vulnerability in it broke your heart all over again.

“No intrusion at all,” Noa said, already moving to unpack the takeout, arranging it on the table with a careless ease that made the whole situation seem almost normal. “I insist. Besides, you came all the way here. At least let us feed you before you head back.”

You felt a lump forming in your throat, the pressure of everything unsaid building up to a point you could barely contain. You could see the strain on Spencer’s face, the conflict in his eyes as he glanced between you and Noa. He didn’t want to be here, and you didn’t want him here either—not like this, not when it felt like every word spoken was laden with a secret.

But Noa’s smile was so open, so genuine, and your fiancé was already pulling plates out of the cabinet, laying them out for the three of you. You didn’t have it in you to make a scene, to start an argument you didn’t know how to finish.

“Spence... please, stay.” The words felt foreign as they left your mouth, and you hoped the slight tremor in your voice wasn’t noticeable. Noa didn't seem to pick up on it, too focused on setting the table and serving the food, but Spencer’s eyes caught yours, and you could see the depth of confusion and pain swimming behind them.

After a long moment, he gave a reluctant nod, sitting back down on the couch, his movements stiff and uneasy. “Okay... yeah, sure,” he said, forcing a polite smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I’ll stay.”

“Great!” Noa’s voice was bright and full of excitement as they motioned for you both to come to the table. “Let's eat.” They sat down, already starting to pass out food, while you and Spencer found seats across from each other.

The table felt small, impossibly so, as if there was no space for all the emotions crammed into the room. And as the three of you sat down to eat, your mind raced, wondering how you were supposed to navigate this impossible dinner, with the man you once loved—and maybe still loved—sitting across from you, and the person you were supposed to marry right by your side.

“So, Spencer,” Noa began as they served out portions of food onto each plate, completely oblivious to the tension coiled like a spring between you and Spencer. “How long have you and Y/N known each other?”

You nearly dropped your fork, your hand trembling as you pretended to focus on your plate. You couldn’t look at Spencer; you didn’t know what expression he’d have or what he might say. All you could do was silently will him to keep it vague, to stick to the basics and not let anything slip that could unravel everything.

Spencer cleared his throat, visibly uncomfortable as he shifted in his seat, poking at the food on his plate with his fork. “Uh… a while,” he said carefully, his voice steady but low. “We, um, met when I moved for college.”

“Yeah? That’s awesome!” Noa beamed, seemingly thrilled to learn more about your past. “What did you study, Spence?”

You winced at the nickname, one you’d used so many times before but now sounded wrong coming from someone else. You could see the way Spencer’s eyes flickered at the mention of it, but he smiled tightly, glancing over at you for the briefest second before looking back at Noa. “I, um, studied a few things. Math, engineering, some psychology…” He trailed off, clearly trying to keep it as bland as possible, but the tension in the air was palpable.

Noa continued, blissfully unaware of the underlying currents in the conversation. “Wow, that’s impressive! And you’re just in town for a visit? Or work?”

Spencer hesitated, the tip of his tongue darting out to wet his lips as he searched for a response that wouldn’t set off alarms. “Uh, just… passing through, actually. Thought I’d… catch up with Y/N while I was here,” he finally said, each word feeling carefully weighed, trying to sound nonchalant but unable to hide the slight tremor in his voice.

“That’s so nice,” Noa said warmly, looking between the two of you. “Y/N always talks about her old friends, but it’s great to finally meet one in person. I’m glad she keeps up with people from back then.”

You gave a tight, forced smile, your stomach churning as you felt like you were teetering on a knife’s edge. “Yeah, you know me, always staying in touch,” you said quickly, trying to steer the conversation away from Spencer, away from the past, away from everything that felt like a ticking time bomb ready to explode if prodded too much.

“So, how long are you staying?” Noa asked, turning their attention back to Spencer, still friendly and curious. You could feel your pulse pounding in your ears, hoping Spencer would take the hint and not make this any more complicated than it already was.

“Oh, not long,” he said, swallowing thickly. “Just a short trip.” He paused, glancing at you again, the weight of his gaze almost too much to bear. “I, um… didn’t plan on staying long.”

“That’s a shame,” Noa said, completely missing the tense undercurrent between you two. “It would’ve been nice to spend more time getting to know you. Seems like you two must have been pretty close back then.”

“Yeah… something like that,” Spencer said softly, his eyes drifting down to his plate, and you felt like you couldn’t breathe, every second of this conversation digging you deeper into a pit you weren’t sure how to get out of. You just prayed—silently, desperately—that Spencer would keep his words guarded and that Noa wouldn’t start connecting any dots you weren’t ready to explain.

“Y/N, sweetums, you’re being awfully quiet,” Noa teased with a playful nudge to your side, and you saw Spencer’s eyes flicker as he tried to mask a cringe at the pet name. You never liked that one; it felt odd to you, and Spencer could tell. But Noa had started calling you that long ago, and it was one of those things you’d grown used to.

You forced a smile, praying it looked genuine. “Just letting you and Spencer get to know each other,” you said, but your voice came out strained, barely holding up under the weight of the situation. You could feel your nerves fraying, as if every word that left your mouth was the wrong one.

Noa, still blissfully oblivious to the palpable tension, brightened with an idea. “Oh! Spencer, are you coming to the wedding?” they asked, and you felt your stomach twist in knots. You knew Spencer hadn’t RSVP’d, and you were terrified of how he would respond. You could see him falter for a moment, looking like a deer caught in headlights, and you quickly jumped in before things could get worse.

“Spencer works for the FBI,” you said, hoping your voice sounded casual, steady, anything other than what you were really feeling. “He said he’d come if he doesn’t have a case.” You looked at him meaningfully, praying he’d go along with it, hoping he wouldn’t take this opportunity to say something more revealing.

“Oh, wow!” Noa’s eyes lit up in admiration, turning to Spencer with genuine curiosity. “That’s incredible! We’ll save a spot for you just in case.”

“Uh… yeah, thanks,” Spencer mumbled, the awkwardness in his tone barely masked by the polite smile he forced onto his face.

Dinner went on like that—Noa doing most of the talking, you scrambling to keep things on track, and Spencer struggling to navigate every question without giving too much away. You couldn’t stop fidgeting, feeling like every minute was an hour as you tried to balance between keeping up appearances and making sure nothing slipped that would reveal the tangled web of your history.

Finally, after what felt like a lifetime, dinner ended. Noa, always the gracious host, brought out tea and ushered everyone to the living room. The three of you settled onto the couches, the warmth of the tea doing nothing to ease the tension in your body. You noticed how close Spencer was sitting to you, his knee almost touching yours, and how Noa, in contrast, seemed so relaxed, not sensing any of the chaos swirling beneath the surface.

“I should probably get going,” Spencer said suddenly, setting his cup down on the coffee table and pushing himself up from the couch. He looked between you and Noa, the tension clear on his face, the evening clearly wearing on him.

“Where are you staying?” Noa asked, genuinely curious. “Do you need a ride?” They sat up straighter, eager to be helpful, and you held your breath, knowing that Spencer likely didn’t have a plan—he rarely ever did.

Spencer hesitated, clearly trying to come up with a response. “Oh, um… I’m not sure. I, uh… hadn’t really thought that far.”

The silence stretched thin, your heart pounding as you prayed Noa wouldn’t say what you were terrified they would. But they did, without a second thought, without hesitation. “You can stay here!” they offered brightly, smiling at Spencer. “We have a guest room—it’s no trouble at all.”

Spencer froze, glancing over at you, his eyes wide with surprise. And you were sure yours mirrored the same panic. This was not part of the plan. You weren’t supposed to have him here, under the same roof. And yet, it was all happening too fast to stop it.

“Uh… that’s really generous, but I don’t want to intrude—” Spencer started, but Noa waved a hand dismissively.

“Please, it’s no trouble,” they insisted, their smile still warm and inviting. “You’re more than welcome to stay. Right, Y/N?” They looked to you for confirmation, and you could feel Spencer’s gaze on you, begging for an out.

“Yeah… of course,” you managed to choke out, your voice weak, betraying every emotion you were desperately trying to hide. “It’s, um, fine.”

And with that, Spencer was staying for the night, and you had no idea how you were going to get through it.

The three of you sat in the living room, forcing your way through some show on TV. But the tension in the air made it impossible to focus on anything other than the uneasy silence and the occasional awkward attempts at small talk. You laughed at all the wrong times, and every time your eyes met Spencer’s, you felt your stomach twist into knots. Noa, oblivious as ever, eventually declared they were ready to call it a night and headed to take their nightly shower.

You took the opportunity to help Spencer get settled in the guest room, your movements jerky and stiff, the weight of the day pressing down on you. He sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing the back of his neck as you pulled spare linens out of the closet. The silence hung heavy between you, every unspoken word echoing through the small room.

“I’m sorry,” Spencer whispered finally, his voice cracking slightly. “I didn’t plan any of this… obviously.”

“No shit,” you replied, your tone sharper than you intended, but it was impossible to hide the anger and frustration building up inside you. It felt like everything was spiraling out of control, and you didn’t know how to fix it.

Spencer hung his head, staring down at his hands. “I’ll leave tomorrow,” he said quietly, like he was admitting defeat.

“I know you will,” you murmured, the words hollow as you hugged yourself, arms crossed tightly around your torso as if that could hold everything together.

With nothing left to say, you left the room, and went to bed. But sleep eluded you, the feeling of Noa’s arms wrapped around you offering none of the comfort you desperately needed. Their touch felt so different from Spencer’s—where he’d been gentle, familiar, their embrace felt confining, and the sound of their breath on your neck was a steady reminder of all the ways it wasn’t him. It wasn’t supposed to be this way, and you felt the guilt flood through you for even comparing them.

Eventually, Noa must’ve felt you finally drift off, because when they woke in the early morning, they carefully slipped out of bed, planting a kiss on your forehead before heading down the hall to start their day. They hadn’t forgotten about Spencer staying over, but they didn’t expect to hear his voice so early in the morning.

“Penelope, what do I do?” Spencer’s voice was muffled through the guest room door, and Noa’s hand froze on the doorknob to the bathroom as they listened. “I told her I love her, and then before she could even tell me how she felt, her fiancé came home. It’s… it’s a mess.”

Noa’s blood ran cold, their stomach dropping as they tried to process the words. Their breath hitched, and they pressed their back against the wall, suddenly afraid to be seen. They knew they shouldn’t be listening, but they couldn’t stop now.

Penelope’s voice came through faintly from Spencer’s phone, but they couldn’t make out her response.

“No, they don’t know Y/N and I were married. She clearly hasn’t had the guts to tell them.” Spencer’s words came out raw, full of frustration and sadness.

The confession hit Noa like a freight train. Married? They felt the walls of the hallway close in on them, the realization that they had never known the full truth of your relationship with Spencer, the truth that you’d never shared. It made their mind spin, and they backed away from the door, desperate to escape the overwhelming emotions crashing over them.

Noa didn’t confront you then, didn’t barge into the guest room or demand an explanation. Instead, they made their way out of the house quietly, slipping out like a ghost. They moved through the motions of their morning like a zombie, their mind racing, heart aching with every step. They needed to be alone, to think, to understand what they had overheard. And they would talk to you, eventually—but only once Spencer was gone.

When you woke up to the sharp sound of your phone ringing, you felt like you were swimming up through murky water, the events of the day before crashing back to you all at once. You squinted at the screen—it was Alexi, their name flashing insistently. You didn’t need to answer to know they’d be demanding an explanation for yesterday’s abrupt hang-up.

“Hey,” you croaked out, voice heavy with sleep and emotion.

“What the hell happened?” Alexi’s voice was stern, a mix of worry and frustration. “You hang up on me, and then I don’t hear from you all night. Spill.”

You sighed, running a hand over your face as you leaned back into the pillows. “Spencer showed up at my door yesterday… unannounced. He’s… he stayed the night,” you admitted, your voice cracking.

Alexi’s reaction was immediate. “He what? Y/N, what is going on?”

You spilled everything—how Spencer had flown out to see you, how Noa had unknowingly invited him to stay, how you’d spent the whole night on edge, and how every touch, every word, every look seemed to tear at your carefully built life. Your voice wavered as you confessed how hard it had been, the emotions you’d buried for years bubbling back to the surface in a way you couldn’t control.

“Okay,” Alexi’s voice softened. “So… do you still love him?”

The question hung in the air like a challenge, and you felt your breath hitch as a tear slipped down your cheek. You’d spent so long avoiding the answer to that question, convincing yourself that everything had changed, that you’d moved on. But when you finally spoke, it felt like the words had been buried for years, clawing their way out.

“I think I do,” you whispered through the tears, your voice trembling. “It’s like… being with Noa was always so easy, you know? I never had to compare the two. But seeing them together… talking to Spencer again… I see how much love he still holds for me, and I know I’ll never be able to give Noa that. I can’t… I can’t love them the way I loved Spencer.”

Alexi was silent on the other end, and you could hear them carefully thinking over their response, searching for the right thing to say. But before they could get a word out, you gasped, cutting them off mid-thought.

“I gotta go,” you said in a rush, sitting up so quickly that the room spun around you.

“What? No—Y/N, you can’t just hang up again! What is going on—?”

“Spencer,” you breathed, staring wide-eyed at the doorway. He was standing there, framed in the early morning light, his expression one of utter disbelief, and you knew instantly that he’d heard every word you’d just said.

“Do you mean that?” he asked, stepping into the room with slow, careful movements like he was approaching a fragile creature. His voice was so quiet, so vulnerable, you felt like it was wrapping around your heart and squeezing. “You still love me?”

You couldn’t speak, couldn’t breathe. All you could do was sit there, your phone slipping from your fingers as you met his gaze, your heart pounding like it would break free from your chest. And you knew, in that moment, there was no more hiding, no more pretending that everything was fine. It was just you and Spencer, standing on the precipice of everything you’d left unsaid.

“Yes,” you whispered, voice cracking as tears welled in your eyes.

Spencer felt his own tears begin to blur his vision, his breath catching in his throat. “I love you too,” he said, the words spilling out like they’d been buried for years, his voice thick with emotion.

You let out a wet giggle through your own tears, and before you knew it, Spencer was sitting on the bed next to you, his hands reaching out to clasp yours. The warmth of his touch was comforting, familiar, and for a moment it felt like all those years apart had never happened. The weight of everything you’d both been holding in pressed down, making this moment both heartbreaking and hopeful.

“Can we… can we try again?” he asked, his voice hopeful, eyes searching yours as if waiting for a lifeline.

You shook your head, sniffling softly. “I’m still engaged, Spencer.”

His face fell slightly, but he stayed close, not letting go of your hands. “You just said you’ll never love them like you loved me.”

“I know,” you admitted, your voice a fragile whisper. “And it’s true… but I still have to talk to them, figure out what to do.”

Spencer nodded slowly, his thumb brushing softly over your knuckles, grounding himself in the contact. “Do you… do you want to be with me?” he asked, voice trembling with the fear and hope of what your answer might be.

You stared into those beautiful, familiar eyes, the ones that once held your world, the ones you thought you’d never see again. “I think so,” you whispered, the words barely escaping your lips. “But, Spencer, I have my whole life here now. More so than ever… and you, you have a life in Virginia.”

“I don’t care,” he said with finality, his voice strong and certain, all doubt gone. “I don’t care, I will go anywhere to be with you. No job is more important than you.”

“Spence…” you murmured, your heart torn between what was and what could be, feeling the pull to him so strong it almost hurt.

“Sweetums,” he teased, the familiar grin spreading across his face, a flicker of the boyish charm you remembered.

“Too soon,” you laughed, shaking your head, but the sound of his voice, the way he said it, made it impossible to hold back the smile tugging at your lips. Even as your heart wrestled with the enormity of the moment, the warmth of Spencer’s presence wrapped around you like a comfort you never wanted to let go.

True to his word, Spencer left that morning, but he didn’t go back to Virginia. Instead, he checked into a hotel nearby, giving you the space he knew you needed while not quite ready to leave you behind.

When you finally heard the jingle of Noa’s keys in the door that evening, your stomach twisted with nerves. You had spent the entire day pacing, replaying the conversation with Spencer in your head, wondering what you would say to Noa, trying to untangle what you really wanted.

“Hey, baby,” You called, your tone neutral as they entered, hanging up their bag.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were married?” Noa asked casually, turning to face you, their eyes sharp with an edge you hadn’t heard before.

“What?” you stammered, feeling like the wind had just been knocked out of you. “I didn’t—”

“To Spencer,” Noa clarified, cutting you off, their voice still eerily calm. “You know, the man that I invited to dinner, who I let stay the night. The man who I made an absolute fool out of myself in front of. The man who told you he’s still in love with you.”

You felt your throat tighten, words failing as the weight of Noa’s calm anger pressed down on you like a heavy stone. Noa had never yelled—they didn’t need to. The steady, even tone made every word land like a blow.

“I didn’t—I don’t…” You struggled to form a coherent thought, desperate to defend yourself, but the truth was right there, undeniable.

“Do you love him?” Noa asked, and for a moment, their voice cracked, the tears finally shining in their eyes.

“Yes,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

“Do you love me?” they pressed, and the desperation in their eyes broke your heart all over again.

“Yes,” you said again, your own tears falling freely.

Noa took a shuddering breath, looking at you like they were seeing you for the first time. “Do you want to get married?” they asked, and the question hung between you like a fragile thread.

You shook your head, your voice breaking as you whispered, “No.”

Noa nodded, silent tears streaming down their face, and the acceptance in their expression was devastating. “Well,” they said softly, swallowing hard as they looked away, their world—your world—crumbling with that single word.

“Noa, I’m sorry,” you said, your voice trembling as you took a tentative step closer, hoping to reach them somehow through the hurt.

Noa nodded, but the gesture was more resigned than understanding. “It’s… what are we going to do?” they asked, their voice thick with uncertainty.

“What?” you asked, your confusion breaking through the tension.

“The wedding,” they clarified, their words heavy with practical sadness. “We have people coming, we paid for everything, we have a house together.”

“Yeah…” you sighed, feeling the weight of all the things that needed to be undone. “You, um, you can keep the house. And I’ll pay you back for the wedding… somehow. I’ll figure it out. And, uh, I’ll send out the cancellations… this is all my fault.”

“It is,” Noa agreed bluntly, and the truth of it stung. “Was the whole relationship a lie?”

“No! God, no,” you panicked, reaching out as if the truth could stop the pain. “Everything was real, I… I didn’t realize I still loved Spencer until I saw him again.”

“That’s it?” Noa’s voice wavered between disbelief and bitterness. “One night, and you’re calling off a whole wedding?”

You sighed, the exhaustion of the situation weighing you down. “I know it’s crazy, but… I’ve already been divorced once. I don’t want to do that again.”

Noa let out a hollow laugh, and for a moment, you saw a glimmer of the person you’d spent years with, a flash of understanding in their eyes. “You’re already planning our divorce?”

The ridiculousness of the whole situation caught up to you both, and despite the pain, you found yourself laughing too—softly, helplessly—as the tension cracked just enough to let some humor seep in. “Maybe?” you offered with a weak smile.

You both laughed then, a bittersweet sound that hung in the air, and for a moment, it felt almost okay—like the world wasn’t falling apart around you. When the laughter faded, you looked at them, your voice soft and hesitant. “Are you… are you going to be okay?”

Noa paused, looking down at the floor before meeting your eyes again. “I mean, this sucks,” they said honestly, their voice raw. “But yeah, I’ll be okay.”

Noa was still possibly the best person you knew, even in the midst of everything falling apart. The two of you sat down together, canceling everything for the wedding, each phone call and email pulling at your heartstrings. But Noa was calm and patient, working through the logistics with you, getting deposits back where you could, dividing your shared assets. Luckily, the separate bank accounts made that part easier.

“What are you going to do now?” Noa asked one day, after you’d gone through another round of cancellations. “Are you moving?”

“I’m not sure,” you admitted, trying to mask the uncertainty. “I hear Virginia is lovely…” You know it is, you’ve visited many times.

Noa nodded slowly, a teasing scoff escaping through the lingering hurt. “Like, where the FBI is?”

“Is it?” you said with a laugh, playing innocent.

“And what about your stores?” they pressed, leaning back as if to put some distance between the weight of the question and the reality of your situation.

You groaned, the stress of it all hitting you at once. “I don’t know… I could sell them? Then give you the money for the wedding.”

Noa laughed softly, elbowing you gently in the ribs. “Y/N, you don’t have to pay for the whole wedding—just, like, ¾ of it.”

You couldn’t help but laugh along with them, grateful for how easy they were making this break. “Okay, deal,” you agreed, grinning through the heaviness. “Maybe Alexi would want to take over.”

That night, you called Alexi, filling them in on everything—Spencer, Noa, the wedding, the whole mess you were working through. They listened patiently, and when you finally finished, they couldn’t hold back their excitement.

“I knew it!” Alexi practically shouted, causing you to laugh, the tension melting away as you shared the absurdity of your current situation with them. After laughing and joking together for a while, you brought up the idea of selling your business. To your relief and surprise, Alexi was more than willing to buy it from you, excited at the opportunity. And just like that, another piece of your life clicked into place as you prepared to move forward.

While all of this was going on, Spencer paced his hotel room like a caged animal. He couldn’t sit still, couldn’t concentrate on anything except the racing thoughts of what could happen—what your decision would be. His phone sat untouched, and though his fingers itched to call someone for support, he was too scared to share any good news before knowing the final verdict. He couldn’t let hope take root, not yet.

The hours dragged on until, late at night, his phone buzzed loudly in the quiet room, lighting up with your contact photo—the one he had never changed, with that adorable smile he couldn’t forget. His heart leapt into his throat as he scrambled to answer, pressing the phone to his ear urgently.

“Hello?” he asked, trying to steady his voice, but the anxious excitement was impossible to hide.

“Hey,” you breathed out, the sound of your voice washing over him like a wave of relief.

“How’d it go?” Spencer’s voice trembled with hope, his nerves hanging on every word.

“Good… good,” you said, and he could hear the faint smile in your voice, something lighter than he’d heard in days. “Um, remember when I visited a while back? And we saw that beautiful red house with the flowers out front?”

“Yeah?” he replied, holding his breath, his mind racing to piece together what you were saying.

“Should we see if it’s on the market?”

Spencer’s chest tightened with joy, and for a moment, the world stood still—just the possibility of a future, of a home, of everything he’d ever wanted with you.

—

“Spencer!” Derek yelled from down the hall, wiping his hands on a rag after finishing up some work.

“Yeah?” Spencer poked his head in the door, dust smudged on his face from their hours of labor on the house.

“I finished this room,” Derek said, gesturing to the newly painted walls and freshly installed trim. “Which one’s next?”

“Let me check,” Spencer said, ducking out for a second before coming back with a checklist. “Bathroom.”

Derek grinned, wiping his forehead. “Y/N’s really calling all the shots, huh?” he teased.

Spencer’s smile softened, his eyes reflecting nothing but warmth. “This is her dream home.”

“What about your dream home?” Derek asked, eyebrow raised.

“She’s my dream home,” Spencer said simply, the words carrying a sincerity that Derek couldn’t help but appreciate.

“That’s sweet, man,” Derek said, clapping Spencer on the shoulder with a smile. “But I’m never letting you live that down.”

Spencer chuckled, shaking his head as he picked up a paint roller, knowing full well Derek meant every word. And that was fine with him—because this was where he wanted to be, building a life with you, step by step.

“Spencer!” you called out urgently from the other side of the house, your voice ringing through the hallways.

Spencer’s heart skipped a beat as he rushed over, worried you might have hurt yourself. “Yeah, baby? Everything okay?” he asked breathlessly as he rounded the corner to find you standing by the bedroom window.

You turned to him with a playful smile, holding up two curtain swatches. “Which curtain do you like?”

Spencer let out a relieved chuckle, shaking his head at his own worry. He walked over to you, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Whatever color you pick will be perfect, my love,” he murmured against your skin.

“Well, obviously I have the final say,” you teased with a grin, “but I still wanted to know what you like.”

“Thank you for considering my opinion,” he laughed, looking thoughtfully at the swatches. “Uh… that one,” he said, pointing to the one in your left hand.

“Thank you! Correct choice,” you teased, dropping the swatches on the floor as you grabbed Spencer’s shirt, pulling him close for a deep, lingering kiss.

He hummed softly against your lips, smiling into the kiss. “Mmm… what was that for?”

You broke the kiss just enough to whisper, “I just love you.”

“Yeah?” Spencer asked with a soft smile, eyes twinkling with mischief. “Enough to marry me again?”

You laughed, caught off guard by the sudden question. “Was that your proposal?” you teased, raising an eyebrow playfully.

Spencer leaned back, pretending to consider his words thoughtfully before nodding with a chuckle. “I think it was,” he admitted, laughing at himself. “So… how’d I do?”

Giggling, you pulled him in for another kiss, your lips meeting his with warmth and certainty. “Amazing. But we’re eloping this time,” you said, resting your forehead against his as the words slipped out between kisses.

“Whatever you say, Mrs. Reid,” he murmured back, his voice full of affection and promise.

—

After months of hard work, the renovations on your new house were finally finished. It had taken time, effort, and a lot of patience, but with Derek’s hands-on help and guidance, you and Spencer transformed it into a home that truly reflected both of you.

The front of the house, a charming red structure framed by an explosion of colorful flowers, felt like something straight out of a storybook. A mix of vibrant yellows, pinks, purples, and reds surrounded the quaint porch, and the white picket fence added a classic touch, making the entire exterior feel warm and inviting.

Inside, the home had become a true sanctuary. Your bedroom was bright and serene, with airy, light-filtering curtains draped over wide windows that bathed the room in soft, natural light. The bed was draped in a red and white blanket that matched the cheerful energy of the house, and shelves lined with books and little mementos from your life with Spencer filled the walls.

The kitchen was a dream—a beautiful, open area filled with pale blue cabinets and golden fixtures that glinted under the soft morning light that poured through the wide, farmhouse-style windows. Wooden open shelves displayed dishes and decor, and the island in the center was the perfect place for shared meals, morning coffee, and cooking side-by-side, something that you and Spencer cherished.

Spencer’s office was a space of calm concentration, tucked into a corner of the house that offered peace and quiet. The walls were painted a deep forest green, and vintage touches—like the rustic wooden desk and traditional-style chair—gave it a classic, studious feel. The large windows allowed in just enough natural light to make it a comfortable, thoughtful workspace, while the thick greenery just outside provided a sense of privacy and focus.

After the renovations were done, you and Spencer knew there was no better way to celebrate than to invite all your closest friends and family for a “housewarming” party. The BAU team, your parents, Alexi, and a few other close friends gathered at the house to tour the renovations, see all the changes, and share in the excitement of your new beginning. Laughter filled the rooms as everyone admired the work you’d both put into the home and marveled at the way it reflected both of you so perfectly.

But the tour was just the beginning. As everyone made their way to the backyard, the sun started to dip below the horizon, the sky turning into the golden hour glow of soft oranges and pinks. The moment felt magical, and you knew it was time to share your real surprise.

You stood beside Spencer, a wide smile on your face as you addressed your loved ones, your voice carrying across the yard. “We’re so happy that you all could come to celebrate our home with us,” you started, your eyes twinkling as you looked to Spencer. “But, actually, that’s not the only reason we asked you all to be here today.”

There were murmurs of curiosity and excitement, eyes darting between you and Spencer as he took your hand. “This is our version of eloping,” he announced, his voice warm and steady, and there was a collective gasp from the crowd as they began to realize what was happening.

“We’re getting married,” you added, barely able to keep from bursting into laughter and tears all at once. And as you turned to Noa—your now close friend and recently ordained officiant—you saw the beaming smile on their face as they stepped forward to take their place at the center of the garden, ready to join you and Spencer in marriage once again, this time surrounded by the people who meant the most to you both.

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obsessivevoidkitten · 1 year ago

Text

Your Boyfriend Owen

Yandere Male x Gender Neutral Reader (CW: Noncon/dubcon, stalking, drugging, kidnapping, chaining, general yandere behavior, social awkwardness, creepy staring, mild scent kink.) Word Count: 2.5k (This was supposed to be a small couple hundred word drabble... oopsiedoodles...)

It was the first day of your last year in college.

At the end of class there was a student lingering at his desk. He was your age and of average build, maybe a bit on the skinny side, with disheveled medium length black hair that was a bit wet with sweat and glasses that were a bit crooked.

He seemed really distraught and panicky as he typed on his laptop.

You introduced yourself and asked him if he needed help with something.

He went silent and awkwardly stared at you for a moment before speaking.

“Uh… hi, I’m Owen.”

He was obviously not used to people approaching and talking to him.

I-I don’t know how to get assignments and submit them on this updated online portal we have this year! I just cannot figure it out!”

You leaned over his desk and took a look at his laptop, you happily showed him how to navigate the new system. You didn’t blame Owen for being so high strung, the classes were tough and this new portal was pretty confusing.

What you didn’t realize was that in this simple act of helping him you had made the biggest mistake of your life.

Owen was stunned that you were helping him. You must have liked him! No one was this nice to a random stranger.

As you leaned over his desk to use his laptop he noticed you smelled so nice.

If he hadn’t already been sweating from his previous issues with the student portal you may have noticed the blush that crept across his face.

When you finished he thanked you nervously before you left for your dorm.

There was plenty of foot traffic to and from the dorms, classes, and the food places on campus. It was very easy for Owen to go unseen as he followed you to your dorm.

He… just wanted to make sure you got there safely. And also wanted to see where you lived.

Over the course of the next few weeks Owen you constantly caught Owen staring at you in class and he never failed to greet you when you sat down or try to talk to you when you left. You were always polite but… it was a little creepy to be honest, but you ignored it because it was pretty harmless. He just had a crush on you.

It was far from harmless though, during the time of day that you had classes and he didn’t he would sneak into your dorm and take little “treasures” that he was sure you wouldn’t miss.

A used pair of underwear that still had your scent from the day before. Maybe a shirt if it wasn’t one of your favorites, he knew which ones you wore most often.

As far as he was concerned he was your boyfriend, even if you didn’t know it yet, and good boyfriends noticed small details like favorite clothes.

He also took note of super important information like what food seemed to be your favorite, wherever you ate lunch he was sure to be in the crowd watching you.

Things probably would have continued on like that for a lot longer, just a creepy stalker pining for you, but then one day you helped someone else in class.

They didn’t deserve to even breathe the same air as you! He was fuming, he clenched his hands so hard that his nails bruised his palms. To grace such a nobody with your assistance drove him beyond jealousy.

But that did not even compare to when he saw you the next day eating lunch with the slime ball.

Why would you do that to him? Surely you liked him, not this piece of shit. He must have forced himself into your space and you were just too sweet to push him away.

Owen had to do something before things escalated too far. And he didn’t have to wait too much longer to have his opportunity.

There was a huge Halloween party coming up and he knew for a fact you would be going.

He went with a masquerade ball costume, complete with an intricately decorated Venetian mask.

When you were at the party he waited for the perfect moment to make his move. He stared at you the entire time, not taking his eyes off of you for a moment. Even if he hadn’t been planning something he wouldn’t have been able to take his eyes off you. You had decided to go as a pale faced vampire, it made him wonder what your teeth on his neck would feel like.

When you were all alone, and after your judgment was a bit off from a few drinks Owen came over and introduced himself and started chatting you up before offering you a drink.

He was a bit of an oddball, but he was always nice right? What was the harm?

You accepted the drink and soon everything was a blur. You weren’t rendered entirely unconscious, just helpless, compliant, and a touch clingy.

Owen escorted you out of the party with you leaning on him heavily, his face was red beneath his mask, his darling was relying on him for support! Just how it should always be~

Not many people at the party knew you, and even if they had they wouldn’t have thought much of you leaving in this manner, you just appeared to be a little drunk and leaving with someone who you trusted.

Owen stroked your cheek gently and guided you gently into the passenger seat of his car.

It was really happening, he was taking his love home.

He lived with his parents, in the large basement of their house. He was the true epitome of a basement dwelling freak.

You clung to him and nuzzled into his neck as he brought you inside. You didn’t know why, but you felt so needy.

He sat you down softly on the bed, he had changed the color of the sheets to match yours. He wanted you to feel at home and get adjusted to being here as quickly as possible and thought it may make the transition easier.

To that end he had also hung copies of the same posters you had hanging in your dorm, had the bookshelf filled with every book that he had ever seen you reading, and while everyone else was at the party he had even managed to snag a few things from your room.

Most notably your Nintendo switch and your blankets. They were drenched in your scent~

In your drugged state you couldn’t quite make sense of your surroundings… it looked kinda similar to your room… but not…

“Wh-wherrre aare w-w-weee?” You couldn’t speak without slurring your words.

“We’re home! Th-this is where you live now!

That didn’t seem right… did it? It felt a bit off… But why would this nice man lie to you? He gave you a drink and a ride… home.

“You’ll live here with me and I will take good care of you!”

“That’sss sooo n-nice of you”

Owen smiled, he knew you may feel differently once the drugs wore off, but he had taken precautions just in case. What mattered was that you were here, you weren’t leaving, and you’d eventually admit that you liked him and wanted to be here with him.

He sat down beside you on the bed and wiped the pale makeup from your face gently, you leaned into his touch with a cute sigh that made his heart swell and his cock twitch.

You were so perfect. Eventually you would be like this without the drugs, he just needed to be patient and train you until you saw that you needed him as much as he needed you. He had wanted to wait until that point to make love with you.

But… you were acting so sweet and needy. So malleable. And he could tell that you really needed it, your face was flushed and you kept grinding your crotch slowly against your arm that you had between your legs.

You stared up at him in confusion as he began to peel away his clothing, his cock bouncing free. You couldn’t take your eyes off of it. Then he carefully took off what you were wearing, slowly. He wanted to savor the moment. The person he loved more than anything else in the entire world was about to be revealed completely to him.

“So p-perfect~”

“Whaaaa are you doooinnng?” You looked up at him while not even noticing you were already grinding into your arm again.

He rubbed your thighs gently before replying.

“I’m g-going to help you with this,” he said as he caressed your crotch.

You blushed and smiled, in that moment all you could think that Owen was just so nice. He had already taken you home and now he was going to help you with your arousal too!

You spread your legs to allow for easier access as he fumbled with the lube.

He was considerably more nervous than before.

“I-it’s my first time, I hope I’m okay~ I-if I’m not we can pr-practice until I get it right!”

Owen applied the slick fluid liberally to his cock, where it mixed with the precum that his cock was practically drooling, then he scooted you to the edge of the bed and knelt between your legs, using his tongue to get you nice and stimulated.

The scent and flavor of you was almost enough to make Owen cum almost immediately, he was more drugged by your smell than you were on actual drugs. He moaned loud, taking it all in.

Before he caused either of you to orgasm before the main event he managed to pry himself away and apply lube to your entrance, sliding in a couple of fingers and twirling them around inside you.

You bucked and moaned, desperate to have more inside you as the lube mixed with all the saliva he had deposited inside you.

“Neeed morrrre,” You started crying a bit, you were just so desperate. You were like a bitch in heat and nothing would take care of it except Owen’s cock.”

“S-so needy! Don’t cry honey bun, I will take care of you!”

You tried to get your sobbing under control as he kissed you deeply.

“Gosh, y-you’re pretty even when you’re crying…

Then he stood beside the bed and propped your legs up on his shoulders. He rubbed the tip around your hole a bit, wanting to ingrain this moment into his memory for the rest of his life, before grabbing your hips and plunging his entire length inside of you in one movement.

The two of you gasped in unison, finally you felt that yearning void in you start to fill and he was inside of you.

It was much better than he had imagined in the fantasies he had so fervently jerked off to.

The heat, the tightness, your insides were enveloping his cock in pure bliss. And the smell of your sweat mingled with his and the scent of sex was just indescribable.

He slid in and out rhythmically, bending down and biting your neck as he did so. Claiming it as he sped up faster and faster.

Owen couldn’t help not lasting too long, and luckily for him you couldn’t either in your drugged state.

You cried out as you came hard, the force of your climax shaking through your body, pushing Owen over the edge. He filled you with plenty of cum before wrapping his arms around you lovingly.

“I love you so much!”

Your intoxicated mind felt the perfect response to this was, “I looo-love youuu toooo.”

When you woke up you were clothed and all cleaned up, and you could scarcely remember a single thing after the party. You had an awful headache and it took you a few moments to realize that this was certainly not your bedroom.

You felt someone spooning you from behind.

Owen. Owen was spooning you!

You must have gotten black out drunk and hooked up with him.

The thought made you feel sick to your stomach.

You immediately jumped out of bed and went to put your shoes on when you finally saw it.

A long thick chain that led to a shackle around your ankle.

You screamed.

Owen woke up instantly and tried to console you. He had been worried this may be your reaction.

“C-calm down honey b-bun. Just let me expla-”

“Don’t call me honey bun you sick freak!” You shouted the words with as much venom as you could muster, with tears threatening to roll down your face at any moment.

“HELP! HELP PLEASE!! SOMEON-”

Owen grabbed you from behind and put his hand over your mouth, using his other hand to hold you close to his shirtless form.

You still yelled, but it was pretty muffled. You could only hope someone had heard your initial outburst.

“Shh baby, calm down, it will be okay I promise~”

He kissed the top of your head and you tried to shake him off but you were still weak from last night, and he was stronger than you had anticipated. You finally went still and silently cried, your voice too strained now to say much of anything.

Then you heard footsteps coming from above you, they got louder as they approached. Did he have roommates? Had they heard your plea for help? You allowed a spark of hope to ignite inside of you.

You couldn’t see it, but Owen was blushing deeply.

“O-oh jeez, I didn’t want you to meet my parents y-yet. Not until you felt b-better.”

A man and a woman came down the steps. They both had features that reminded you of Owen.

The woman spoke while the man stood behind her, “Just what the HELL is going on at this early hour!? The sun is barely out and I have to work later tod-”

She met your eyes, only just now realizing that her son had someone in his arms. You could see her gaze follow the chain that bound your leg to the wall.

Seeing your tear streaked face, red and puffy from crying, shaking from fear, she gave a look of sympathy. Your hope grew. Would she help you escape her loony son? Your sore throat strained to form words, but they only came out muted and garbled through Owen’s hand.

“Owen! You didn’t tell us you were dating! Honestly, with how awkward you are, I was a bit afraid you’d never take a liking to someone.”

Then she looked at you again.

“You’ll be okay, I know it’s hard at first, but you’ll settle right in.”

“I-i made sure the shackle was lined with something s-soft so it doesn’t hurt them. J-just like you told me how you did when y-you started dating dad!”

You saw the man bite his lip and gaze down sheepishly.

Owen was in his mid 20s, if his age was any indication… if he was conceived when his parents first met… then you were going to be here for a very long time.

#yandere x reader #yandere boyfriend #yandere scenario #male yandere #yandere male x reader #yandere x gender neutral reader #My OCs #My OC Owen #yandere imagine

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777heavengirl · 22 days ago

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the one with Pobol y cwm

sirius black x reader ! - 1,091 words masterlist bags masterlist A/N: HAPPY BDAY SIRIUS BLACK MY BELOVED- SURPRISE UPDATE IN HONOR OF HIM TODAY- oh dear pls dont look at this too in detail i am very sick and exhausted but i wanted to put something out for his bday...

Sirius had never been a crier. Yet as his nimble fingers dug into the soft material of your sweater, and his body shook with sobs— it became clear to you that he had just been holding it in.

He hadn’t said much after he walked through his door, red-eyed and ready to crumble.

But you knew.

You had always been this way. Just knowing, him. Knowing somehow, what he was thinking, what he was feeling. You could tell, most of the time anyway.

You knew he felt sorry, and you knew he felt frustratingly heartbroken. Angry and furious, but deeply blue. The little boy inside of him had lost his mother, and there was nothing he could say to himself that would make it better.

Because through all her faults, her disgusting vile words, and even worse behavior. Through her hexes and unforgivable curses, through every bit of torture that Walburga had subjected Sirius through, it was still his mother.

She would always be his mother.

Disowned or not, abuser or not, the owner of his nightmares, the person he hated most. Nothing could ever erase the fact that for at least the first sixteen years of his life, she had been his mother, and in a way, in a deeply hurtful, and grief-ridden way, she would always be.

So he cried. For the mother he had until age ten, for the mother he had been subjected to until sixteen, for the mother he never had in the first place.

It didn’t matter how many times Sirius told himself to not cry over her, it didn’t matter that he truly hated her. It didn’t matter he once had half a mind to kill her himself. He realized that he’d never get the good relationship he had always secretly wanted. As long as she was alive, even though Sirius would rather die himself than admit it, the stupidest goddamn part of him was still holding on to that chance.

He had never realized he was still clutching onto that.

Until the chance got ripped away.

So you sat, with his face buried in your stomach as he kneeled in front of his bed, in front of you. Sobbing. His arms around your torso and clutching at the material of your jumper with white-hot fists.

You didn't know what else to do besides hug him back, trying not to cry. Your hands pet his hair, strong and steady, because you knew that was what he needed the most right now.

Your reliability, your care, your unconditional love for him.

And you did, love him that is.

From the bottom of your heart, you loved Sirius Orion Black.

Even if you hadn’t talked in weeks, even if you felt like a ghost in the house, even if you had been planning your move out no less than thirty minutes ago in a fit of anxious desperation.

“I’m sorry Sirius” you didn’t think he heard you over his earth-shattering sobs, but he shook his head slightly, almost as if wanting to say no, don’t be. “I am sorry, I know she was horrid-”

“I hate her-” his words were hoarse and raw, he didn’t look up. “I still hate her, I need her to wake up so I can tell her- god I can’t tell her-” You could feel his words reverberating through his throat,

“I hate her so much, I hoped she’d die in some- in some disgusting gruesome death, I just-” he took a deep breath, his breath ragged and shaky “I hoped it would be something ironic and karmic like getting hit by a muggle bus but that goddamn bitch had the audacity to go in peace- in her sleep no less merlin- I- I- just keep hoping that I’m dreaming and that she’s… there and rotting alive in that awful house”

“I’m sorry-”

His voice was calmer now, still buried in your sweater, still embracing you. “I hate her and I am glad she’s dead, she doesn’t deserve to be alive and well after everything she put me and my brother through- but the stupidest part of me- is still mourning”

He loosened his hold on you, and he slumped between your legs, his face now only half-buried in your torso. You could see the red splotches that had bloomed on his porcelain skin.

“I don't know what I feel any more love, I feel out of control”

“I know”

“I’m sorry I’ve been avoiding you”

“I’m sorry too-”

“Please don’t leave me… don’t leave me alone”

“I don’t think I could leave even if I wanted to Sirius- not that I do… don’t worry-” Your fingers carded through his hair “I will always be here”

“I’m sorry-”

“You don’t have to apologize- we can talk about that later… do you want to go for a walk?”

He lifted his head up slightly, enough to steal glances of your face as he wiped his face with his fingers.

“Can we just watch Pobol y cwm-” his voice was low and gloomy, it broke your heart.

“Yeah, we can watch Pobol…” You tried smiling at him, it was a sad one, but he mirrored it nonetheless. It was hard not to get emotional while seeing him this way.

Shattered and somber.

Irrevocably burdened with the knowledge that while yes he mourned his mother, just some idolized version of her he buried deep within the confines of his mind— he would never get justice either.

Sirius Black was relieved, he realized, as he laid his head on your shoulder and watched the advertisements on TV. His abuser was dead, it was more than he could ask for. Yes, he’d have to talk to you eventually, tell you how he feels, even simply explain why he got so upset. He’d have to write to his brother and not repeat the cycle of anger that was embedded deep within their veins. He’d eventually have to face his father. He’d have to face the fact that he, did indeed, have grief over the death of Walburga.

But all of that could wait for tonight, he had you right now.

With your arm around him, tucking his much larger form into your side, with his legs over your thighs and Pobol y cwm playing in the back. The soft of your sweater, and the sweet soft scent of your hair, the warmth from your hand drawing circles on his back. It was all that mattered right now.

It was just you and Pobol y cwm.

taglist ; @thatlittlered @giuli-in-earth

let me know if you wanna be added ! or if i missed you

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joequiinn · 7 months ago

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The Dos & Don'ts of Fake Dating | E.M. x reader | pt. 6

[chap five] | [all chapters here] | [chap seven]

summary: You propose a crazy idea to the resident freak of Hawkins, Eddie Munson. But maybe he was even crazier for agreeing to it…

notes & tropes: fem reader, slow burn, faking dating, opposites attract, bratty rich bitch reader, super minor revenge plot, not-quite-enemies-to-lovers

a/n: I feel like this chapter took forever to write, but it was literally only a week (also shoutout to @eddiernunson for helping with it!)??? I put so much work into this one, so I can't wait to see what everyone thinks! Updates will probably change to weekly for the time being, as chapters are starting to get longer. Enjoy~~

wc: 5.7k

taglist: @a-queen-blr @costellation-hunter @daisyridleyss @damon-loves-pie @damp4eddie @delilaaahhh @eddiernunson @em0220 @frogtape @fromasgardandback @kthomps914 @lotrefcp @marrowfrog00 @mewchiili @munsonssweets @no-bueno-writer @rach5ive @sav12321 @sheneedsrocknroll92 @steeldaisies @stormgrl19

Chapter Six

Eddie once again met you outside the school on Monday morning, waiting - presumably for you - near the front entrance. As you spotted one another, Eddie grinned flirtatiously, and you relaxed your face, realizing that before making eye contact with Eddie that your jaw was clenched and your gaze was harsh. You hadn’t realized how cold your neutral expression was up until recently.

Eddie pushed himself off the wall he was leaning against, meeting you at the front door in time to open it for you. The corner of your lip pulled up in thanks, and once you were both inside, Eddie rested his arm over your shoulders, causing you to let out a surprised breath as your neck grew just a touch warm. You were glad that you happened to have a book to hold and keep your hands occupied, as you just knew without it you’d have crossed your arms or let them awkwardly hang at your side; even in previous real relationships, you weren’t a particularly physical person.

“Princess,” He greeted mockingly, as if he knew putting his arm around you would make you tense.

Your eyes narrowed a little as you taunted back, “Freak.”

“I thought we said only nice nicknames.” Eddie turned his over-dramatic, sad eyes on you.

“I also remember telling you not to call me ‘princess.’” You retorted, intentionally avoiding his eyes.

“Ah, but it suits you, doesn’t it?” Eddie continued teasing as various students looked your way, some doing double-takes as they realized who you were walking with. Your eyes briefly flicked up to his face, but you looked away before he could notice your gaze.

As the pair of you approached your locker, you were almost disappointed that no one was lingering there prepared to try and drag you back in with the crowd you always knew. It was nearly surprising just how quickly everyone seemed to leave you in the dust the moment you started feigning any interest in Eddie - years of friendship really seemed to mean nothing, huh? But the disappointment didn’t show on your face, as it was outweighed by the opposite sense of relief that you didn’t have to put on too much of a show, that your plan had done its job almost too well.

Once you were at the locker, Eddie let his arm fall from you so you could shuffle around in your bag and your locker. You both took that opportunity to look around, and you nearly smiled when you realized Eddie was doing exactly the same thing as you - that he was looking for reactions, that he was looking for the faces of people that knew either of you. So, you noted, he seemed to be enjoying this charade, too.

“So,” Eddie eventually leaned against the wall of lockers to look at you as you fussed with your belongings, “my band has shows on Tuesday nights.”

“You’re in a band?” You ask with a hint of disbelief, looking up at his face for a moment, which furrowed a little at your question.

“I did mention I play guitar.”

“You didn’t mention the guitar or the band.” You countered smartly, to which Eddie rolled his eyes.

“Alright, fine,” You smirked to yourself while closing your locker, leaning your shoulder against it to mirror Eddie’s pose, “You should come to our show tomorrow.”

Before you could stop yourself, you made a critical face at the suggestion. Based on the way he dressed, you knew exactly the kind of music Eddie most likely played, and you were far from interested in that. And you had no idea if he was good or not, or who the hell his bandmates were - for all you knew, they were even bigger losers than him.

In response to your mean expression, Eddie narrowed his eyes, his jaw a touch tight, “Stop being stubborn. Maybe you’ll enjoy it.”

“I doubt it,” you said with an unamused grin. A moment later, Eddie looked past your shoulder, his eyes showing recognition for whoever the hell he was looking at. You whip around to see a friend of his, the one with the locker near yours; said friend appeared a little confused as he looked between you and Eddie.

Without warning, Eddie snatched your hand and dragged you in the other boy’s direction, causing you to nearly trip in the process. You, of course, glared at him for how quickly he pulled you along, but you said nothing as the two of you approached his puzzled friend.

“Gareth,” Eddie started with a charismatic grin, his voice loud with excitement that you weren’t prepared for. He tugged you alongside him, keeping a hold on your hand as if he were enjoying the fact that you couldn’t just pull away. With his free hand, Eddie presented you as if you were some prize, “You’re familiar with the resident ice princess.”

Gareth’s eyes went back and forth between the two of you, trying to keep his confusion from totally twisting his expression, which he did a poor job of. You, as well, were trying to keep your face from showing any annoyance or disorientation from this whole thing, although you were certain you instead just looked like a total bitch.

“Yes…” Gareth started hesitantly, his eyes finally settling on Eddie’s face, “I didn’t think you two knew each other, though…”

“Recent development.” Eddie shrugged nonchalantly, releasing your hand only to throw his arm on your shoulders again before you could retreat. You side-eyed him, briefly unconcerned with whether or not Gareth saw it - Eddie was being exceptionally annoying this morning.

“How did you two…?” Gareth pointed between you, his muddled voice trailing off.

You and Eddie looked at one another with realization - you didn’t have an answer for that. Neither of you had even considered that that was a story you needed, and you felt stupid for not thinking about it from the get go. Now, one of you had to come up with it on the fly; you weren’t sure if you’d prefer coming up with it yourself or leaving it to Eddie.

You should probably take this one, you decided - just your luck, if you left it to Eddie he’d come up with the most ridiculous story that could never hold up. Still staring up at him, you take a deep breath, prepared to come up with some explanation quickly, but Eddie beat you to the punch.

“We were meeting for a deal,” he began, and you briefly wondered if he was about to tell Gareth the truth, “chatting became flirting, so I asked her out on a whim; didn’t expect her to actually say ‘yes,’ though.”

Eddie gave you that charming smile of his, feeling your shoulders relax - that explanation was nice and simple, believable enough that no one would ask questions. It looked like it appeased Gareth, too, because his confusion didn’t appear nearly as blatant as it was a minute ago. You were sure he still found it odd and probably had minor doubts, but he didn’t seem the type to vocalize those things.

“She’s coming to our show tomorrow night.” Eddie added, to which you turned your harsh stare onto him again. Your mouth immediately opened to dispute, although you hesitated for a moment as you realized Eddie did this on purpose - he dragged you over to his friend and put you on the spot, thinking you wouldn’t be able to argue in front of someone else. And you nearly debated whether or not you should, however, the small, smug look on Eddie’s face was exactly the catalyst you needed.

“I never said that.” You stated simply, watching the surprise that crossed Eddie’s face; yup, he didn’t think you’d debate this if another person was involved. You could see the hesitation in Gareth’s body language, could see that he was still getting over the fact that you and Eddie were, apparently, together.

“I thought you did?” Eddie put on a very convincing look, pretending to mull it over, trying to set you up to agree to it. You’d hand it to him, he was determined.

“No.” You raised your brow to challenge him, and you couldn’t help the small defiant smirk that dared to cross your lips, “I’ll need some incentive for that.”

“Whatever you want.” Eddie said without hesitation, returning his attention to Gareth with a humorous smile, “She’s not so bad once you get to know her.”

To that, you gave his chest a little smack, meeting Gareth’s eyes, which remained just as perplexed as before. Your customary impassive expression was on your face, “No, I’m worse.”

Gareth nearly looked nervous until you finally cracked a small smile, although he still seemed put off - he probably didn’t know whether or not you were kidding, even as you grinned at him. Maybe you needed to relax and not scare Eddie’s friends too much, it may eventually piss him off.

Eddie gave your shoulder a squeeze, as if it were a silent plea for you to behave yourself. You looked at his face for a few moments, once again challenging him, before returning your eyes to Gareth with a sigh.

“I’m not that bad.” You reassure plainly, certain that you don’t sound terribly convincing. Nonetheless, Gareth’s face isn’t nearly as hesitant, although you knew he was far from coming around to you.

“You get used to it.” Eddie chimed in while giving your shoulders a little tug, a signal that you two should start walking, “Don’t let her scare you too much, Gareth, the power will go to her head.”

You gave his chest another small smack while you scoffed. Eddie simply grinned and shook his head in amusement; he gave Gareth a nod of farewell before you two began to walk through the hall towards your first class of the day. Once you were out of earshot, you looked up at Eddie from the corner of your eye.

“Don’t set me up like that.” You instruct plainly, trying to avoid any malice that you would’ve used on him only a week ago.

“Oh, lesson learned.” Eddie retorted with a small sound of mirth, “I should’ve known you’d enjoy being difficult in front of other people.”

You shrugged, finding some mild amusement in it as well, “I just can’t seem to help myself.”

“You can say that again.” The pair of you walk in an easy silence for a few moments before Eddie looks at you with hopeful eyes, “But you will come tomorrow, right?”

You raise your brows at him, your face showing your disagreement with the question, “It’s not like I need to - I doubt anyone will be there to see us.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. He couldn’t believe how easily his thoughts and feelings about you fluctuated - one second, he enjoyed your company, the next he found you tiresome.

“Oh, come on,” Eddie started, studying your face, “Are we dating or not?”

“Well--”

“Don’t answer that.” Eddie cut you off, knowing exactly what you’d say to his poorly phrased question. You nearly laughed, but tried to keep a straight face - you didn’t need Eddie seeing you amused while you were trying to argue your case with him, “You know you have to meet my friends eventually, might as well be now. And I’d bet your parents wouldn’t be so happy about you going to a dive bar with a guy they don’t even know.”

As you two paused outside of your classroom, you gave Eddie a scrutinizing look, mulling over his two points - the one about his friends was neither here nor there, but he did make a good point about your parents. And from the look on his face, you figured he also knew that it was a good point.

While you studied him, Eddie leaned towards your face, his voice challenging, “Live a little.”

You narrowed your eyes, wanting to argue despite knowing that you were already losing. As you stared at one another, Eddie raised his brows impatiently, urging you to agree already and stop being so stubborn. You finally shook your head with a sigh of defeat, your brow furrowing even more as a cocky grin spread across Eddie’s lip.

“Fine, I’ll go. But I’m not gonna like it.”

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

You sneered with distaste as you eyed the Hideout, your gaze critical as you took in the neon signs, the filthy windows, and the crowds of older bikers and alcoholics. This is the place Eddie dragged you to? You could kill him for not better preparing you for just how seedy and unsavory it would be.

Behind you, Eddie and the band were pulling equipment from the back of the van, the clatter of cymbals and their mingling voices drawing your attention. As you turned around, they all quickly whipped their eyes in another direction, quieting just a little - of course they’d been staring at you, talking about you. How could they not, considering that all of a sudden you were dating one of the losers amongst them. And said loser gave you a friendly wink as you met his eyes, but your attention turned back to his friends, making them all nervous with your intense gaze.

Admittedly, you loved that they were scared of you, loved that they were too damn nervous to even look you in the eye. You couldn’t help but find it funny, and you figured it would take a long time to get them to even talk to you without tripping over their words.

You crossed your arms as you looked back up at the bar again, frowning, “This place looks like a venereal disease waiting to happen.”

You heard one of them make a surprised sound at your comment; you’d bet the band was sharing shocked, nervous glances just behind you.

“Relax, princess,” Eddie flung his arm over you, his guitar case in the opposite hand, “just try to have fun, it’s not as bad as it looks.”

You gave him a smart look, “You say that now, but just you wait until some creep tries to grope me.”

Eddie blew air between his lips, “You’d probably scare anyone that even looked at you funny. Besides, you already let one creep grope you.”

He made a grabby hand over your shoulder as if to suggest he was about to touch you indecently, and behind you two the band chuckled, causing Eddie to grin largely. You gave him an affronted look as you hit his shoulder.

“Shut up!” You were taken aback by the joke, but you realized Eddie was probably all riled up by his friends - he was a boy, after all, they always said shit just to make their friends laugh.

“Sorry, sorry.” He raised his arms in surrender, his eyes apologetic as they met yours, “None of those jokes, I get it.”

You continued to glare at him for another moment before looking back towards the band. Eddie introduced the other two that you hadn’t met before, but you were already forgetting their names. Jeff? Grant? You weren’t totally certain. You could see a thoughtful furrow in Gareth’s brow as you glanced over all of them, and something told you to pay attention to him - you had a feeling he didn’t believe you and Eddie, that if anyone were to figure out your lie it would be him. That made him a far more observant friend than any of yours.

Eddie took hold of your hand and started dragging you to the bar, his band following right behind the pair of you. As Eddie held the door open, the sound of bluesy rock music met your ears, and you took in the various patrons and surroundings of the Hideout. You could immediately tell the Hideout seemed to cater to musicians - the stage was cramped, but well-loved, central with bright lights and a crowd formed to watch the band currently in the spotlight. The place wasn’t packed - after all, it was a Tuesday - but there were more people than you were expecting.

You could tell your group brought the median age of the bar down dramatically, everyone else looking 40 or older. As you made your way through the patrons, a few glanced at the band in recognition, one man even clapping Eddie on the shoulder as you passed. Corroded Coffin must have spent a lot more time here than you gave them credit for.

You stayed practically tucked into Eddie’s side as he led you through the Hideout, not wanting to get lost amongst the crowd of drunks. Once you reached the bar, Eddie greeted the bartender with familiarity, pulling you in closer to introduce you to the man with an eager grin, really selling that you were his girlfriend. His tone could’ve even fooled you.

“Keep an eye on her, alright, she’s trouble.” Eddie joked with the bartender, causing you to roll your eyes as they laughed.

“You look like you can handle yourself.” The bartender offered while meeting your eyes. Although he had a rough exterior, there was nothing about his gaze that felt off, so you gave him a small look of confirmation.

“That’s the problem.” Eddie teased, looking at you playfully.

You realized the rest of Corroded Coffin was already waiting in the wings, watching the other band finish up their set. Eddie gave your hand a small tug, drawing your attention back to him; he leaned down a little as he spoke, mouth close to your ears so you could hear him over the loud music.

“Stay here with Jack, alright?” He nodded his head towards the bartender, “That way I don’t lose you.”

“I thought you said this place wasn’t as bad as it looked.” You pulled back a little so he could see you raise a taunting brow.

“It’s not.” He reiterated, “but just my luck, you’ll draw trouble to you.”

You hummed in disagreement, “If there’s trouble, that’s on you.”

“That’s what I’m worried about.” Eddie grinned in contrast to his words, his eyes amused. He leaned towards you again as if he wanted to put on some show of physical affection, but hesitated; why did that ever so briefly make you nervous? Instead, he pulled his hand from yours while bringing his lips close to your ear again; you unconsciously flexed your hand now that it was free.

“We’re going on soon. Try to have fun.” Eddie took a deep breath before pulling back, and you almost thought that he had smelled your hair, but you figured that couldn’t be true.

As he’d done before, Eddie’s fingers grazed your back as he walked off in the direction of the stage. You watched him closely, the realization hitting you that this was a new place and you knew no one here. And it’s not that that frightened you or made you nervous, but the observation put you on your guard, made you a little more tense and aware of your surroundings.

Your eyes stayed locked on Eddie as he laughed with his friends, taking the stage to set up their equipment. You took the opportunity to study him, taking in the way his laugh spread through his entire body, the way he seemed to be so much more dramatic and playful and boisterous with his friends around. For a few moments, you didn’t even realize you were nearly smiling, although your expression quickly evened out with that realization. What the hell were you smirking about?

“Drink?” Jack’s gravelly voice asked over your shoulder, so you turned back towards the bar and eyed him momentarily.

“No, I’m not--”

He cut you off with a dismissive wave of his hand, knowing what you were going to say about your age, “Does this look like the kind of place that cares?”

His tone was matter-of-fact, and you smirked in appreciation at it. You considered for a moment what you wanted to drink, hopping up into one of the bar chairs as Jack watched you patiently, “What’s the girliest drink you know how to make?”

He laughed at the question, shaking his head but accepting it, “Ah, one girly drink coming right up.”

The corner of your mouth tugged back - there was something about Jack that instantly amused you. Maybe his grumpy vibes were entertaining, or maybe it was the fact that he found his own amusement in your drink order. Regardless, maybe it wasn’t so bad that Eddie effectively left this man as your babysitter.

The sound of a bass being tuned caused you to look back up at the stage. Eddie’s guitar was slung over his shoulder as he discussed something with the band, everyone looking prepared to start any minute now.

As Jack set a pretty drink in front of you, Eddie tested the mic, looking delighted at the crowd as the band finished their preparation. Again, you caught yourself smiling a little, blindly picking up your drink from the bartop as you continued to watch Eddie.

Of course, the almost endearing look on your face disappeared entirely once the music started. Just as you had expected, the drums were loud, the guitar thrashing, and Eddie’s singing rough and whiny. You couldn’t help the sneer on your face - this was so not your kind of music. Although the crowd seemed to respond positively, this just wasn’t your scene, and you unintentionally sat stiffly in your seat.

You hoped the lights were bright enough that Eddie couldn’t see you. Considering that his eyes hadn’t settled on you in some time, you figured the stage lighting made it difficult to find you. You just knew the disinterest that your body language exuded was bound to annoy him to some extent. Sure, you could fake being his girlfriend easily enough, but you couldn’t fake any interest in metal music. It was so damn loud and aggressive that it made your chest hurt and left your head confused.

However, once you got past that, you were able to study Eddie a little more. He was… actually good at this. You knew absolutely nothing about music, but just from watching Eddie you recognized how complicated the guitar was, how much skill it actually took to play these complex chords. His vocals were another story, but with that guitar Eddie showed an impressive amount of expertise, skilled hands with an intense care and focus. At one point, you nearly began to zone out while watching Eddie’s hands work up and down the neck of the guitar, and when you finally shook yourself out of the trance, you had to wonder just how long you’d been staring so damn intently at Eddie’s hands.

As the band played on, Jack brought you a second drink before you were even done with your first. You smiled in thanks before knocking back what was left in your first glass. Like any good popular high school kid, you’d been to your fair share of parties with alcohol aplenty, but that didn’t make you any less of a lightweight. One drink you could handle just fine, but it was always the second drink that started to make things a little blurry. So, you eyed your new glass warily, deciding whether or not you were brave enough to drink it.

But what did you have to lose? Despite its appearances, you were safe enough here at the Hideout, you figured you wouldn’t be out too late, and one more drink wasn’t going to totally mess you up. So, you grabbed the glass decisively, returning your attention to Eddie as you took a sip. You’d just cut yourself off after this one, no need to get plastered on a Tuesday night.

But damn it, Jack was too good a bartender, because as you were about finished with this glass, he put another in front of you. You furrowed your brows a little, stopping him before he could walk away and attend to the other patrons.

“I really shouldn’t!” You had to shout over how damn loud Corroded Coffin was - did someone turn up the speakers, or did they sound even louder because of your drinks? Jack leaned on the counter, his expression gruff but his eyes somehow still kind. He pointed in Eddie’s direction.

“Have one more, I trust that kid’ll take good care of you.” You made a doubtful face, looking between Jack and the drink. Unconsciously, you went back to sipping at the one in your hand, scrutinizing the bartender, “I’ve known Eddie since he was 14 - when I say he’ll take good care of you, I mean it.”

The comment was surprisingly genuine, causing you to cock your head curiously. Seeing something in your expression change, Jack gave you the slightest of smirks before turning his attention onto the other waiting customers. You realized a moment later that you hit the bottom of your glass; you stared at the melting ice briefly before looking at the new drink in front of you. Fine, one more. As you swapped the glasses, you hopped to your feet, forgetting that Eddie had asked you to stay at the bar.

That second drink put you a little more at ease; the loud music didn’t bother you nearly as much as it did before, and you didn’t mind pushing your way through the bar patrons anymore. You didn’t know where you wanted to go exactly, but you knew you needed to get on your feet for a little bit. So, you began to maneuver closer to the stage, keeping to one side of the crowd so you weren’t entirely packed between people. Your gaze stayed almost zeroed in on Eddie, taking in his stage presence thoughtfully.

Aside from him actually showing talent that you weren’t expecting, you also noticed how excited he was to be up there playing for people. The elation in his face, the animation in his body language - he had a lot of love for music, that was obvious to you. And because the drinks had been loosening you up over the course of the set, you realized that you were actually smiling as you watched him, actually enjoying the sight of Eddie live it up on this dinky little stage.

You didn’t even try to fight the look on your face, assuming that Eddie still couldn’t see you - you couldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing that you were having a good time, after all. You even caught yourself tapping your foot along to the music at one point, as if the rhythm was beginning to make sense to you. It was more than just cacophonous noise - or at least that’s how it felt now that you were nearly three drinks deep - although you still didn’t quite understand the appeal of metal. Nonetheless, you found yourself trying to enjoy it.

It was as Eddie announced the final song that you finished your drink, leaving the empty glass on some nearby table. For a moment, you caught yourself wishing you weren’t here alone, wishing you could’ve dragged Amelia or Janet here to keep you company. Although the music and venue were far from anyone’s taste, this was exactly the kind of thing you all would have normally done together. But just as quickly as you thought that, you also remembered all the times Amelia had just disappeared on you at parties, all the times Janet flaked at the last minute when you discussed going to shows up in Indianapolis.

You got so caught up in your thoughts that you hadn’t realized Corroded Coffin just wrapped up their set. And you didn’t come back to yourself until a hand cupped your ass, immediately setting you off like dynamite.

You whipped around to find a grimy but otherwise nondescript man lingering behind you, a slimy look on his face. You were also briefly aware of Eddie’s voice calling something from the wing of the stage, but you were already in go-mode, arm reeling and swinging ungracefully to crack the guy. Your aim was a little off and you nearly missed, but you still managed to make contact, although with his throat rather than his jaw like you intended. If there was any pain in your own hand, you probably wouldn’t notice it until tomorrow.

As he stumbled back, you felt someone else come up behind you, and you were about ready to hit them, too, until you were spun around to face Eddie. He held your shoulders, but you still had to steady yourself by grabbing his forearms, meeting his shocked eyes with far too much of a calmness about you. Eddie’s brow furrowed as he looked you up and down then looked past you at the man you hit, then back at you.

“Jesus, can’t leave you alone, can I?” His tone was bewildered, as if he couldn’t believe he saw you, the ice princess, hit a guy. Sure, he knew you had quite a bark, but he didn’t know you also had a bite.

Thanks to the drinks in you, a laugh escaped your throat - was it a nervous one, or did you find the whole thing actually funny? You looked back at the man to see him already being taken care of, Jack dragging him out of the bar. No one else seemed to bat an eye at the ruckus, perhaps because they were used to it, choosing to carry on and ignore it. You met Eddie’s concerned eyes again, grinning uncharacteristically large.

“Fucking idiot.” Eddie looked nearly offended until he realized you were talking about the man and not him. He sighed, shaking his head with near mirth, still trying to wrap his head around this whole thing.

But after a few moments, he laughed - it was small and breathy, but when his eyes met yours again, there was definitely a glimmer of amusement there. He stepped back from you looking around in disbelief, a smile threatening to pull at his lips.

“Don’t piss you off, got it.” Eddie finally smiled while looking you up and down; now that the shock had passed, he was actually a little impressed by how it handled yourself. Feeling a touch sobered up, you shrugged in defense of yourself.

“Well, he shouldn’t have acted like an idiot.” Eddie chuckled at your comment, nodding in agreement.

“I didn’t know you had a right hook like that.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.” You counter, swaying a little on your feet yet again, which made your statement nearly laughable. Eddie put out his arm in case he needed to steady you, looking you over heedfully.

“I think it’s time we get you home.” He says simply, putting his hand to the small of your back and guiding you towards the band as they packed up their equipment. You allowed him to lead you, although you rolled your eyes a little at how cautious he was being with you, as if you were a baby bird or something.

“Oh, come on, the night is young.” You say far too lightheartedly, making Eddie eye you with a curious look - after all, this lax attitude was incredibly odd for you. Is this how you always behaved when you drank? Open and approachable and even a little fun? He’d have to keep that in mind, keep an eye on you in the future.

“You’ll regret saying that tomorrow.” Eddie teased while grabbing his guitar case from where it leaned against the wall. Meanwhile, you relaxed against a nearby speaker, watching as the group finished collecting their belongings. You realized Gareth was looking at you, and rather than glower as you’d normally do, you instead gave him a tipsy grin. That seemed to confuse him even more, as he nervously looked back at what he was doing.

“You guys aren’t half bad.” You say to no one in particular, although they all briefly glanced up with varying degrees of surprise. Only Eddie smiled.

“Is that meant to be a compliment?” He ribbed. You playfully made a face, but didn’t grace him with a response.

Eventually, you and Eddie were back in the van, the rest of Corroded Coffin having carpooled separately. As Eddie pulled away from the Hideout, you watched him drive, studying his hands as they drummed on the steering wheel. Some metal music you weren’t familiar with played through the speakers, but luckily Eddie kept the volume low enough that your brain didn’t rattle.

Watching Eddie’s fingers move, you recalled his skill on the guitar, how easily his fingers slid over the strings, how his hands practically danced on the instrument. It was a talent that you actually found quite impressive, although you weren’t about to divulge that information to him. You turn your attention to his face, how the moonlight highlighted certain features; a sheen of sweat caused his bangs to stick to his forehead, his cheeks still flushed, a content look settled on his face. Once again, you found yourself zoning out as you stared at him.

“You were good tonight.” The words left your mouth unexpectedly as you continued staring at him, and Eddie looked over at you with disbelief, as if you actually giving him a compliment was so foreign. His eyes pulled you from your slight daze, and you tried to collect yourself but fumbled, “You’re good at… guitar.”

God, that sounded stupid. And as if to emphasize it, Eddie laughed merrily, clearly delighted by your own confusion in your phrasing. You glared harshly, hating the fact that you sounded so dumb.

“Your singing could use some fucking work, though.” You retaliated unnecessarily, huffing as you crossed your arms and slouched in the seat. Eddie’s laughter died down as he looked at your pouting face, although that in itself made him want to keep laughing. But he pushed down that desire, not wanting to get you riled up.

“Oh, come on,” he reached over to nudge your knee, his palm hot against your skin. If you weren’t so grumpy, you probably would have liked the feel of it, “Sorry… but thank you. Glad to know I’m good at guitar.”

You glanced at him, still glaring, but his expression was genuine and nonjudgmental, sweet even, and you felt yourself begin to relax.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you #stranger things #em #dos and donts

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erodasfishtacos · 5 months ago

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Digging A Deeper Hole || MLB ||

Prompt: Harry is going through a rough adjustment to his new life. At twenty-one, he was the face of a massive franchise, a father, and a husband with millions watching his every mood. He starts to feel it. Word Count: 7.8k Warnings: Depression, Anxiety, Angst - please keep in mind H is young here so he’s a bit more immature than one shots where he’s older. He’s still figuring stuff out

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========================= Harry had the weight on the world on his shoulders.

The past year had been the best but most stressful time that he has ever had in his life.

He hadn’t had a break, it was go, go, go.

At the age of twenty-one, it felt like he had responsibilities that most people never had this amount of.

He had expectations from every side, especially from work, though it sounded like a dream to be the new face of Major League Baseball, to be the highest paid rookie to start, or the fact that he was a projected to be one of the best players of all time.

It came at a cost.

A really fucking big cost.

It took Harry a while to realize that he was experiencing some depression, the pressure of his coaches, the team, the public, and on top of that, he was navigating being newly married with a baby.

”Styles, get off the phone!” His assistant coach shouted from the field, he should be jogging onto the mound because practice was nearly over, and everyone was ready to head back to the hotels.

“Hold the fuck on!” Harry shouts back without looking up, waiting for the FaceTime call to connect, he had thought he had more time before they started up again.

Harry’s heart leaps when it connects, his perfect baby in the camera view, blowing raspberries between chewing on teether that looked like car keys, “Say ‘hi’ to your daddy!”

Easton is too little to quite comprehend the phone but he blinks in confusion at the screen before blowing another wet raspberry towards his father.

”Hi East, look at how handsome you look,” Harry croons, trying to memorize every little feature because he’s only going to be this small for a little while, “Your daddy misses you so much.”

YN pulls the phone to her face for a moment, “I took him on a walk around Central Park earlier today and he saw a group of pigeons. He squealed so loudly that they all flew away in a flock and he started giggling. I wish I would have gotten it on video.”

”He really does love the pigeons-“ Harry begins but is cut off.

”Styles, final warning. Get off your phone or I’m locking it up! Now,” The other coach yells, starting to actually get pissed, and Harry has to resist the urge to flip them off.

”H,” YN says knowingly, it was pretty common that he was getting yelled at, “Go practice.”

“I want to be home with you,” Harry frowns, he truly means it.

”I know,” YN agrees with kind understanding on her face, “Go kick some ass for us.”

He didn’t get to spend the time he wanted at home with his family, the away games caused him to panic, and he was starting to have anxiety attacks as he steps onto the private jet.

Harry was blowing YN’s phone up at any free moment he got, asking to FaceTime to see her and Easton, and YN had noticed how much more he was asking for reassurance, it was frequent.

”He’s sleepy. He just fed for almost an hour,” YN murmurs, tired herself and her eyes were heavy, it was undeniable that she had a lot on her plate with taking care of Easton by herself.

YN did see Anne once or twice a week but she was adamant that she did not need help raising her own baby, that she was fully capable of taking care of Easton by herself when Harry wasn’t home.

Easton was ten-months at this point, splayed on his mother’s chest with a milk-drunk little smile as he laid his small fist on her neck, easily starting to drift to sleep.

Harry feels a pang of disgusting, gnarly guilt and disappointment that he’s not there to lay in bed with them, and he felt like a piece of shit for sitting in this swanky hotel room by himself.

”Harry?” YN asks after he doesn’t respond, he was just watching the screen as his wife ran her fingers through Easton’s soft baby curls, silky smooth.

Harry swallows harshly to avoid the tears prickling, “I love you so much. You know that?”

YN smiles at him, soft and warm, “We love you so much. We miss you and cannot wait for you to get home. We both want so many cuddles with you.”

Harry’s jaw clenches, scrunching his nose, and feel the pit in his stomach get deeper, darker, rawer, and it felt overwhelming as he sat alone with his family on the other side of the country.

It felt suffocating that he wanted to go home but he couldn’t because he had a contract, a job, he had to provide, and he worked his whole life to be where he’s at.

He’s in a position that billions would want to be in but all he can think about is being with his family, he would give up everything he’d ever accomplished to cuddle with them every night.

But he couldn’t, deep down, he knew that it was his emotions getting the best of him, and it’s disappointing that he’s not enjoying baseball like he thought he would right now.

“I…I’m sorry,” Harry sniffles, rubbing his eye roughly to catch the tears before they fall any further.

YN’s smile falls which makes him feel even worse, “Baby, what’s wrong? Why are you apologizing?”

”I’m not there to help you,” Harry presses his face into his forearm to try to stop the tears, “I’m just sittin’ here in a hotel room, I’m fuckin’ useless to you.”

”Hey,” YN says firmly, lips going into a straight line, “Harry, you are not useless. How could you think that? You’re providing for us. You make it possible for me to stay at home, in this beautiful home, with everything we’d ever need, and spend every moment with Easton. That’s because of you.”

It makes Harry feel a bit better, that perspective on the situation because he hadn’t looked at it like that, “I’ll always provide for you two.”

”You’re the best provider. We love you so much. We are so proud of you. Easton is going to be so so proud of his daddy and what a good man you are to us,” YN tells him confidently, thter’s no wavering in her voice as she watches Harry’s reaction.

Harry hangs his head, done trying to stop the tears, he didn’t feel good.

He had felt depression a few times in his life, the most when he was going through his struggles with his sexuality, and it was starting to feel like that again.

”Harry,” YN’s voice is soft, careful, “Are you okay, baby? What made you so upset?”

Harry wipes his face with the back of his hand, he didn’t want to worry YN.

She had so much on her plate right now that the last thing she needed to worry about was his mental health because he needed to pull it together and stop being so emotional.

”I just miss you,” Harry tells her, it wasn’t a lie but it really wasn’t the full truth, there was so much more to it than what he was letting on but he could handle it on his own.

Lord knows he had enough time while he was sitting in this hotel room alone or had a flight on the private jet.

Harry felt like a car ran him over, twice, and then backed up over him.

He did as good as everyone expected him to do during the games in San Diego, he won all three of the games with too many strikeouts to count, and two home runs to get them scores.

Harry was able to shut his mind off during the games, all he was thinking about was his job, and what he needed to do to make sure that they won the games - that was it.

Afterwards, the creeping feelings that had been haunting him especially hard this past month or so wouldn’t wait very long to pop up again after the games.

He started demanding a flight home the night of the last game, everyone else always waited until the next day because traveling right after playing was near torture with the exhaustion.

Harry felt like death as he landed in New York City, his bones were heavy as if they weighed a thousand pounds each, his arm was sore from how many pitches he had to throw, and he hadn’t been sleeping well when he was away from YN and the baby.

His heart was a bit lighter as he opened the front door to their home, the smell of his favorite brownies hitting his nose, and a peel of bubbly, angelic baby giggles echoed through the hallway.

Harry needed to see them, he dropped his bag and didn’t care that his cologne bottle most likely just shattered inside because of how careless he was being.

No, he was making his way toward the smell and sounds, and when he found what he waas looking for - his stomach untwisted just the slightest and everything didn’t seem so bleak for a moment.

YN turns around, having been alerted to his entrance by his bag dropping, Easton was on her hip and had a spatula in his hand, gnawing on it happily.

”Who is that, East?” YN bounces him up and down, “Is that your daddy?”

Harry wants to cry tears of relief when Easton drops the spatula, letting it clatter onto the tile, and starts to cry.

He was the cutest little thing.

Whenever Harry got home from work, Easton would start to cry because he wanted him, and was sad like he just realized that he had been missing him all day and he was finally home with him.

”Oh my goodness,” YN hums as Easton wiggles, starting to reach out for him with grabbing hands, dramatic tears running down his face as his pouty bottom lip wobbles.

”No tears, bub,” Harry coos as he steps forward, taking Easton out of her arms, and giving him the biggest hug he can manage as he presses kisses to the side of his face, his hair, his nose, “I missed you so much. I hate being away from you, East, miss you every moment.”

YN is watching with a content smile, patiently waiting her turn as he blinks over at her, his voice still soft and raspy, “Hi mama.”

”Hi H,” YN whispers back, stepping forward to cup his jaw and bring their lips together in a kiss, her thumb rubbing the stubble of his jawline and her other squeezing his hip, “I missed you.”

Harry hates that he feels the lump in his throat, “I fuckin’ missed you so much. I can’t explain how much I hate being away from you and him. I am so grateful that you’re so good to me and East. You know that?”

One of YN’s love languages was definitely words of affirmation so to hear such nice compliments really did mean a lot to her because she didn’t always feel the most secure either.

It was a lot to have her husband traveling all the time, where if he wanted, there would be unlimited opportunities for him to make bad choices because there was not a shortage of men and women who would bed him without a second thought.

YN had complete and utter trust in him.

It wasn’t ever a real concern but when Harry was as gorgeous as he was, it was hard not to feel a bit of insecurity when people often let it be known how much they found him attractive.

”Thank you, H,” YN brings him in for another kiss, “Dinner is almost ready. Brownies are also baking in the oven. Easton was my little helper but was trying to get his chunky fingers in the raw batter which he had an attitude about when I told him ‘no’.”

”You better listen to your mama,” Harry hums at his son, munching at his neck until Easton is giggling and pulling at his curls to keep him close, he loved his father so much, “Be nice to mama, Easton Robin.”

YN reaches forward, “Go get a shower. Settle in a little bit.”

Harry passes Easton back but frowns, “Darling, I can take him and manage. You have had him for the last week.”

YN waves him off, “I got him for a few minutes longer. Get showered, dressed, then we can eat dinner, and cuddle. Okay?”

”Sounds like a dream,” Harry replies because it really does, all that he wants is to be able to hold them in his arms, and start filling this hole that starts to eat away at him every time he has to leave.`

After Harry showers, he tugs on his briefs, and sits on the edge of the bed.

He doesn’t know how he fell asleep like that but it seemed to happen nearly as soon as he plopped down on the plush of their bed because he hadn’t slept in nearly twenty-four hours, after an exhausting game and seven hours of travel.

The next time he wakes up, it’s completely dark in the bedroom, and he blinks his eyes open to see the alarm clock reading that it was three in the morning.

YN was fast asleep on her side of the bed, baby monitor on the side table, and Easton was sleeping in his nursery on his back with a binky halfway out of his mouth.

Harry squeezes his eyes shut, putting his fists to them for a moment as he grits his teeth, “Fuck fuck fuck.”

He gets out of bed, not wanting to disturb YN, she looked so fucking pretty while she slept and Harry was in disbelief of what a fucking idiot he was.

YN not only watched Easton for the past week, she managed everything else for their household, made Harry dinner and dessert, all for him to fall asleep.

She needs a break from the baby, YN should have gotten one last night after all her hard work, and Harry just went and fell asleep like a bloody teenager with no responsibilities.

He grabs the baby monitor so that YN won’t be woken up, hoping that she will sleep in for as long as possible in the morning, and Harry can take on baby duties.

Harry’s plan was to clean the house, the least he could do as an apology but everything was near spotless thanks to his wife, and when he went into the kitchen to clean the dishes from dinner.

There were none, YN had put all the leftovers away, wrapped the brownies, and cleaned all the pots and pans - as well as all of Easton’s bottles.

”Fuck me,” Harry grunts as he resists the urge to hit something, instead slamming his fists on the countertop, and staring at nothing as he feels the deep hole become bigger, “Such a fuck-up.”

Harry doesn’t even know what he can do to repay her, to make it up to her, and the mixture of his anxiety and depression had to be the gnarliest combination because they were kicking his ass.

His anxiety starts taking over and an intrusive thought starts to pop into his brain and he can’t shake it.

What if she leaves you?

What if she doesn’t think you’re a good enough father?

She does all this for you and you treat her like shit the moment you come home?

You don’t deserve her.

Harry’s throat tightens up, it feels hard to breathe for a few minutes as he tries taking slow, deep inhales before repeating the process to help try to regulate his breathing.

He had to make this up to her.

Harry manages Easton by himself, that wasn’t an issue, and he was even able to run out to grab YN’s favorite donuts from a few blocks down before she was up.

Harry was currently in the living room, laying on the floor with Easton as he played with these soft, big blocks, and smiled at his father with only two little teeth showing on his bottom gums.

”Morning, well afternoon,” YN laughs as she looks at the clock on the wall, it was nearly twelve and she was able to catch up on all the sleep she desperately needs, “You didn’t need to let me sleep for that long, H. I appreciate it though, felt super nice to be able to get re-energized.”

”It’s the least I could do,” Harry replies, the enthusiasm that was usually in his voice was missing, and he struggled to meet her eye because he was embarassed.

YN knows something is off as she sits down next to them, scooping Easton up and tucking him under her big shirt where he can excitedly start to nurse - he very begrudgingly used a bottle but it was always a bit more difficult to get him to eat with one.

”Are you sure you’re okay?” YN frowns as she rubs his knee, “You seem down. Did something happen?”

”I’m a piece of shit,” Harry chuckles without humor, throwing his hands up, “Isn’t it obvious? I leave you at home with the baby and then the minute I get home, I fall asleep and don’t do shit to help you. On top of that, you made dinner and I didn’t even eat it.”

YN’s frown turns into more of a scowl, “Harry, what has you talking like this? Did someone say something to you? I don’t like when you talk like that. You were exhausted! You were just away for a week, training and playing, and have so much other than that going on. Do you really think that I’m mad about that?”

“I’m mad about how I acted because it effects you,” Harry grits back, his anxiety and depression had a tendency to make him cranky in a way that he normally wouldn’t be, “It’s no excuse. You get no excuses. I need to do better.”

”You need to stop talking like that,” YN retorts as she stares back at him with a twitch of her brow, “Everything is fine. We are fine. Nothing is wrong. This is how our life looks sometimes and that’s okay. You are doing this to take care of us.”

“It feels pretty fuckin’ selfish right now,” Harry shakes his head, standing up and trying to hide the wince from how achey his muscles were, he should do a cold plunge but he’s not going to take anymore time for himself - he dosn’t deserve it.

“How is it selfish?” YN is getting frustrated, her leg shaking slightly but then she stops when she realizes that it’s jostling Easton and he whines in displeasure.

”I get to get a full night’s sleep in a luxury hotel room, you’re here.”

YN scoffs, licking over her teeth, “Yeah, Harry. It’s a massive hardship, living in a three million dollar home in the middle of the Upper East Side. I think I’ll survive.”

“That’s not the fuckin’ point,” Harry cracks his neck, his anxiety made his heart rate feel like he was constantly running a marathon, it was hard for him to keep his composure.

”Don’t talk to me like that,” YN raises her voice, moving to get up with Easton still suckling away, “This isn’t how you show appreciation, Harry. I’m just trying to have a conversation and you have an attitude.”

Harry knows that he’s just going to continue to dig himself a deeper pit than he’s already in if he keeps talking.

Most of the time, he did not feel like like a twenty-one year old despite his boyish looks but right now, he felt like he was acting his age and it wasn’t a good thing.

”Why don’t you take Easton and see your mom today,” YN offers, her voice is still tight but trying to keep it cordial as she brings Easton out from under her shirt.

He was blinking languidly, his lips smacking in satisfaction as his belly was full, and YN hands him over to Harry to take, “Yeah, I’ll get him ready and go.”

It was a good opportunity to give YN a break but he was honestly a bit surprised that she took him up on it or that she didn’t want to come with because when Harry came home, they tried to stay together as much as possible.

He does know that he’s acting like a complete dickhead which makes sense why she wasn’t dying to spend time with him right night, still it was just odd because it’s unlike her.

”Sounds good,” YN pulls out her phone, looking down and fingers flitting across the screen which was also a bit odd, how she was a distracted by it because it was unlike her just like her letting him go alone.

God, Harry was making a fucking mess, wasn’t he? +++++++++++++++++

It stuck out like a sore thumb when Harry was off.

Normally, he was the most easy-going, bubbly, funny person who stole most of the attention when he wasn’t even trying.

It was how he captured everyone’s interest whether it was his big grin that had his dimples showing deep in the pockets of his cheeks, the way he threw his head back and let out these low raspy chuckles, or just how he nodded attentively when someone else was talking.

So when he wasn’t feeling like himself, all those things that lit up rooms disappeared, and it was hard for him to socialize.

Harry was still beating himself up the entire ride outside of the city to his mother’s house, Easton was napping in the back and this would be a nice sleep before the excitement of Nana’s house.

Harry was replaying everything with YN, from the way he was sharp with her to get short with her when she did absolutely nothing to deserve that from him because she was so fucking good to him - all the time.

YN never complained about anything.

She never complained about being at home with the baby alone.

YN never tied to guilt Harry because he was away during the season so much.

It makes it so much worse that he’s not able to hold his shit together even just for YN, he didn’t want her to worry about his mental health, that’s the last thing she needed on her plate.

He was going to figure this out himself.

It wasn’t that he didn’t feel like he couldn’t talk to her, it was more that he knew she cares so much that it might upset her or make her worry when he’s on the road, all he wants for her is to focus on Easton and herself.

Harry normally loves going up to his mom’s, a little lake house that he had bought her with one of his first paychecks, despite how much she huffed and puffed, he knew that it was a dream of hers to live on the water.

It was the least he could do after she did so much to make his dreams come true.

However, despite Harry getting a decent amount of sleep, he felt bone tired and just drained was the best way to explain it - he felt like all the energy that he normally feels has been sucked clean out of him.

He wanted to turn the car around, go home, crawl into bed with YN and Easton, and not have to interact with anyone else for at least a week but that wasn’t possible with his schedule.

Harry should be enjoying his time right now.

They have an off week which meant that he had nearly two and a half weeks at home because the following week were games at their home stadium so he could be home every night.

Harry just couldn’t wait for this season to be over.

And that thought alone alarmed him because he fucking loved baseball, he loved being the best of the best, he loved all the recognition he got but right now his desire was lower than it’s been in a really long time.

When he pulls down the long driveway, a house sat back off the residential road where she had neighbors but there was a good amount of distance between the them to give privacy and seclusion.

He sees that there are multiple cars in the driveway which makes Harry groan because he didn’t realize that his mom was going to call over friends and family since he was coming to visit.

Anne did that sometimes, when Harry called saying that he’d be up, she would call aunts, uncles, relatives, and close friends to come for a barbecue, and it was the last thing he wanted right now.

He was already a bit peeved that his mother didn’t ask him first because he would have very clearly told her that he wasn’t in the mood to entertain people, to answer questions, and talk about baseball for a good five hours.

When Harry opens the back door, Easton’s already awake and smiling at his father with a gummy smile, his two bottom baby teeth made him look so adorable but he knew that more were going to popping through soon.

”Hi, sweetheart,” Harry hums softly as he unbuckles his baby, bringing him up into his arms and into a hug, kissing his temple, “I love you so much, you know that? M’only away so that you have everythin’ you’d ever want. Miss you every second-“

A smack comes heartily on his back, right on his throwing shoulder where the soreness is radiating like a motherfucker, and he has to grit his teeth to not curse and startle Easton.

”Buddy, how much did this ride cost ya?” His Uncle Chuck, his mom’s brother asks obnoxiously, “Saw these things were going for a hundred and some change?”

Harry takes a deep breath, his patience was wearing thin, and he had barely made it out of the car, “I don’t remember how much it cost.”

“That’s what being rich gets you, huh? Twenty-one with a fat bank account and no responsibilities. I would have loved to have a life like yours,” Chuck chortles as he leans up against said expensive SUV, beer in his hand.

“I have plenty of fuckin’ responsibilities,” Harry bites back, scolding himself for cursing in from of Easton, even if he was too young to understand, he tried not to make it a habit.

“Sure you do, bud,” His uncle laughs, clearly not catching onto Harry’s mood, “Last thing I’d want is a baby with everything that you have going on. Growing up too fast.”

“Luckily, it’s not your life,” Harry brushes him off, picking up Easton’s diaper bag on his free shoulder and hikes him up, “We’ll be in soon. Give us a minute.”

His uncle shrugs before staggering off, a drunken sway in his step as he stumbles back towards the house.

Harry buries his nose in Easton’s downy, fresh smelling wispy curls to steady his breathing, he feels a bit emotional as he talks to his son.

“M’sorry, East. Daddy doesn’t feel good right now,” Harry swallows hard, squeezing his eyes shut, “I just have to pull it together. God, I love you. My baby.”

Harry gives himself another minute of grounding before taking a deep exhale and shutting the door, walking towards the house.

Everyone was on the back patio, sipping on drinks, and cheering when they saw him.

Dread settles heavy in Harry’s stomach as his family members as they start asking him about his games, wanting to recap every play he’s made, his sponsorships and his much he’s getting paid.

Harry’s trying to keep up the conversation but all he can think about is how much he didn’t want to be there, and he should have just taken Easton to the park or something more low-key.

When he bumps into his mom in the kitchen, Anne is prepping a salad and smiles back at her son - unaware of his mood.

“Isn’t this fun, hun?” Anne asks happily, sprinkling in some spices as she hums.

“Why couldn’t it have just been us? I have to be around people all the time and I thought it was just going to be you. Now I have to entertain all of them,” Harry’s tone definitely takes her aback as she puts down the tongs she was using.

“Usually you love when everyone’s here, I don’t understand,” Anne’s smile drops, wiping her hands on the dishrag.

“Does anybody ever consider that I don’t love talking about baseball every second of the day or how much money is in my bank account?” Harry’s tone is venomous and resentful, unfairly harsh on his mom when she hadn’t tried to upset him.

“Harr-“ Anne begins to apologize, albeit, a bit confused.

“Easton’s almost ready for a nap,” He cuts her off as he checks his watch, it didn’t really matter what time it was, he was done.

“My bedroom-“

“No, I’m going home,” Harry shakes his head, turning on his heel. He has the decency to look back and say, “Sorry, mom. I just can’t be here.”

Easton was currently being held by his Aunt Jane, he was starting to fuss because he had a bottle not too long ago and he was starting to get cranky.

“Alright, we’re going to head out. East needs his nap,” Harry announces, hiking on the diaper bag, and starting to walk over.

“Oh, we barely see him! Just a few more minutes with this little one. You can hold off his nap for a little!” His Aunt Jane jokingly holds him tighter for a minute and nothing right now is funny to Harry.

Harry doesn’t get loud but his voice gets steely as he reaches down and scoops Easton up from her lap, “Don’t tell me how to take care of my baby, understood?”

His poor aunt is taken aback, just like his mom, and nods.

Harry storms out without another glance back, ignoring the whispers about how odd he was acting and rude.

When he straps Easton in, the dark bubble in belly subsides for a moment- like sun breaking through storm clouds.

“Daaa,” Easton coos, happy but tired, tucking his binky back between his lips.

“Good job, baby,” Harry sniffles, blinking up towards the sky to keep the tears away, “Fuck, get it together.”

Harry had to pepper at least ten kisses on Easton’s warm, sleepy face before he’s able to close the door and get in the driver’s seat.

Harry presses on the console touch screen, calling YN, and he frowns when it goes straight to voicemail which was very unlike her.

He tries again.

Voicemail.

He pulls out his phone, trying to check her location, and it hasn’t updated in the past hour - it was just unusual for her phone to die, always on standby but he tries not to worry.

YN was probably still very pissed off at him, if he was to bet, she put her phone on ‘do not disturb’ so that she could take a well deserved nap and not be bothered.

Harry squeezes the steering wheel, reminding himself once again, “Pull yourself together.”

But in the back of his mind, an anxious thought pops in, well multiple.

What is YN is leaving you?

What if she’s sick of not having you around as much as other wives have their husbands?

First time you see her in a week and you treat her like shit. You really think she’ll stay?

Harry has never once thought like that, even when they’ve gotten in serious fights but god damn, he couldn’t stop his mind from going a million miles a minute, and it felt like shit.

Nothing was wrong.

Everything felt like it’s crumbling.

#ano #harry styles writing #harry styles #harry styles masterlist #update #harry styles fluff #harry styles fic rec #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n

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adonis-koo · 1 year ago

Text

wicked • 17

↳ Summary: In a desperate hope to stop war from breaking you are a serviced to wed the most vile man alive, the one who has committed atrocities and war crimes beyond comprehension, he who is responsible for the fall of many nations, the wicked prince who’s heart is made of stone. You are to marry a man who challenges every belief and moral you stand for, all while being faced in a foreign land with nobody but yourself too trust…But are you both truly that different? Or is hate not too far from love?

↳ Pairing: Jungkook/reader

↳ Genre: arranged marriage AU, enemies to lovers, it’s kind of a period AU??? Historical but also technically not? prince!AU, eventual smut

Word Count: 8k

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Note: it’s actually difficult to believe it’s been eight months since I’ve updated, went through two jobs, a friend group and a boyfriend who gaslit the absolute fuck out of me and made me experience female hysteria 😍 I wrote this chapter the night he broke up with me so it just has that nice little extra touch of ✨ intensity ✨ enjoy lovies and I will be back hopefully sooner then last time with another update

It felt wrong, packing a small case of clothes while so many things at the castle had yet to play out, and Wheein’s life was hanging in the balance of it.

You had no intentions to trudge your way to the barracks but here you were; early morning where all of the guards were training and the person you were looking for was watching them, hands on his hips as he called out to one of them to tighten their guard.

You hadn’t planned on talking to him today, but leaving without so much as saying a word felt wrong, and perhaps after everything that had happened you were searching for sober reassurance.

“Jungkook.”

Everybody froze at the sound of your voice, you ignored all the eyes on you, after having lived in Penumbra for almost a year, you had somewhere along the way gotten used to all of the eyes that constantly followed you.

The guards exchanged awkward glances with one another, Jungkook looked surprised by your appearance, eyes glancing over you as if you were a hallucination, but after a moment it was evident you weren’t going to disappear upon blinking.

He glanced between you and the guards before he waved them off, “Keep going.”

You couldn’t stand the hopeful look in his eyes, almost a bit bashful as you walked in line with him further away from the barracks, “How can you expect me to leave the castle when Wheein is in a dungeon? And furthermore sending your aunt to try and reconcile with me?”

Jungkook frowned, “Well I doubted you wanted to see me after my drunk display- which truth be told I hardly remember anything I said, and It’s probably for the best that I don’t, Y/n…” He sighed as he stopped, “It was only a suggestion, it crossed my mind about the estate because truthfully I think you would like it there, and it would be safe,” His hands tenderly grabbed your shoulders as your lips curled in anger but you said nothing, “And I think it would be good for you to put all of this out of your head for a few days. I’ll continue to handle things here and if things change with Wheein trust that I’ll be able to take care of it.”

Your expression didn’t change as Jungkook frowned, “I would also like to remind you that she’s been one of my closest friends since I was a child. You’re not the only one who cares for her.”

You begrudgingly looked away from him but your expression softened, a stab of guilt surging through your stomach at the realization that he was very much right, “I know, I’m sorry I just-”

“Don’t be,” Jungkook replied, “You have a mean bite but I can appreciate your loyalty. I can’t undo the past but I want to make things right. I…” Jungkook paused, looking hesitant his eyes darting away from you and then back to you once more.

You offered no words forcing him to sigh, as if it was difficult for him to admit, “I want to be with you Y/n, not as two people amicable due to marriage or friends on uneasy terms…” He bit down on his cheek, unable to hold your steely gaze as his hand hesitantly reached out, tenderly stroking along your jawline, “I want more than that with you, I want all of the fire and all of the rage, I want the pain, the hardships. I want you, all of you, every flaw that makes you, you.”

You hadn’t even realized your eyes had blurred until his thumbs were tenderly pushing your tears away, “Is this a declaration?”

“It’s a promise.” Jungkook’s eyes held such a softness in them filled with something you still felt uncertain to assume, “You told me that you wanted to bear the deepest parts of yourself to me, all of your insecurities, the parts you don’t like about yourself, the parts you may even hate, so I am standing here to tell you to show me, show me all of it, and I will still take you as you are.”

He was saying many overwhelming words to you, but you knew he was dancing around the most important word, you could see it in his eyes, how it lingered on the tip of his tongue.

But something was stopping him from truly confessing it.

Perhaps even after all of these months, it was still too soon.

Evidently so given your circumstances.

“I don’t want you away from me,” Jungkook admitted, a frown slowly forming on his lips, “But if that’s what it takes, I would wait a lifetime if it meant your forgiveness, if it meant a second chance to be with you.”

“Is that why you’re willing to send me away?” You sniffled, “Otherwise you’ll continue to drink and wake me up in the middle of the night?”

“It wasn’t my finest moment,” Jungkook gave a weak smile, “But you can’t deny it got my point across didn’t it?”

Just his smile made something in you crumble, a vast desire to embrace him here and to forgive him, surely you could put this all behind you…?

But a bigger part of you didn’t want to rush this, you didn’t want to be complacent anymore, that was how you got into this situation, how you immediately jumped to Claudin’s offer rather than confide in the person you were married to.

It was such a raw feeling, you could feel it licking at your very soul, trying to tame your desire to throw all caution to the wind once more.

And for a brief moment you could feel Jungkook have the same reaction as you, as if it took every fiber in his being to not beg you to stay, you don’t know if you could stand your ground against him again if he came on as strong as he had last night.

“Just for a few days.” You whispered out as he frowned, giving you an understanding nod.

“You’ll love it there.” His hands finally let go of you, somewhat reluctantly.

And then it was silent for a long moment, tension still lingering in the air and both of you clearly hesitant.

“Then…I’ll see you in a few days.” You mumbled and Jungkook nodded once more. It felt like the ground was trying to engulf your feet as you turned around, feeling oddly empty at your goodbye, waiting for something that wouldn’t come.

What was it you had hoped for? A hug…?

Maybe a kiss…?

But then again, it felt as though you were no longer deserving of those things, Jungkook may have done things to hurt you but you had also done things to hurt him, how could you both love one another if you couldn’t trust one another first?

You wished Jungkook had reached out for you, to at least give you some form of affection before leaving, but he also knew this was true, and let you leave with no grief.

It left you feeling empty inside, but this was for the best.

You journeyed over horseback for the day, trying to leave your fretting heart behind as you nervously glanced back at the far away sight of the castle, what if something developed with Wheein?

You felt as though you were betraying her just by leaving, more than anything you were desperate to get her back, perhaps that was why Jungkook was sending you away, as if he sensed your desperation would only heighten the longer this went on.

Dare you say, he feared the worst might happen if you stayed.

Your grip tightened on your reigns, once more trying to put it out of your mind, taking a deep breath you took in the heady scent of the pine tree’s the surrounded you, the Estate was much closer to the mountains then you had anticipated, by midday you had journeyed far enough that snow had already reached the ground.

“Are you nervous?” Yoongi had slowed his horse down to ride next to you, his eyes however still scoured ahead for possible danger.

“What do you mean?” You frowned as you glanced at his back, hearing a branch snap as your eyes darted towards the left of him.

Your faithful companion Fenrir having accidentally broke the branch he had been carrying in his mouth the past hour he had grown fond of, a whine leaving him in disappointment as he picked up the bigger side.

“Journeying away from the castle during these trying times…” Yoongi glanced back at you, a frown of his own, “It can’t be easy leaving with everything that’s happened.”

You didn’t reply for a long moment, Yoongi slowed down to ride beside you as he curiously took in your expression.

It was silent for a long moment before you finally relented, “It is difficult, but…After a long night, I figured this was probably best. It seems like my involvement in things only tends to make them worse. And truthfully there's no telling what lengths I’d go to at this point to get Wheein back.”

“Oh?” Yoongi looked curiosity once more, “I didn’t realize you had such a taste for danger.”

His joke made a smile finally tug on your lips, “Neither did I before coming to Penumbra. It seems this kingdom has a way of bringing out the primitive nature in me. But then again, it seems people have always looked down on me when I think of it.”

“On you?” Yoongi scoffed in amusement, “Dryad Matron of Eunoia? It’s difficult to believe, you’re like a pillar of light to the commonwealth of Penumbra, it used to drive the Prince nuts during your engagement.”

“It did…?” You peered somewhat hesitantly at him.

This made Yoongi grin, “Oh yes, when news of your engagement first broke out it had the people ecstatic, it had him gagging every second he heard good things of you.”

“This is hardly making me feel better…” You winced, though a small part of you was amused to hear this, though you wish you could say the same.

It always seemed to you that people in Penumbra didn’t fully grasp just how much people feared them on the outside world, instead poking fun at the titles they had earned as if it was a little joke.

The whole two years of your engagement are two years you’d rather die then live through again, the anxiety that kept you up at night, the endless amounts of tears you cried, the emptiness it left inside you how no one even tried to comfort you.

Looking back you understood, nobody wanted to feed you lies to comfort you, but at the time, you didn’t understand, it felt cruel.

“Not everyone feels that way about me, evidently from what I saw in the Underside.” You replied, somewhat reminiscing on the horrendous memory of the mock version of you.

“You shouldn’t pay that any mind,” Yoongi scoffed, “The humor is juvenile there, everything it stands for is juvenile, even it’s name; the Underside was a joke, a mockery meant for every royal that has to say it’s name with seriousness, point being- they don’t respect anyone who won’t give them money.”

You only shook your head, “It’s not just that though, there has always been a small part of people and court alike who haven’t liked me, even long before I was engaged to Jungkook. I was known for having a temper,” It made you smile wryly, “-The Bitch of Eunoia, that’s what they ran around calling me behind my back. It was horrendous in Kimhae.”

“Was it now?” Yoongi looked amused by this, “That in some ways does, and doesn’t surprise me.”

“The court ladies in Eunoia often liked to call me that as well. But it was very pronounced by Kimhae court men. When I was younger, I used to wear traditional Eunoian attire when i’d visit. Apparently shoulders and knee’s used to drive them crazy. I had one of the aristocrats boldly ask me if I was an exotic woman of the night, willing to pay for me.”

Yoongi’s jaw had dropped making you laugh as he gestured you on, “What did you say?”

“Something along the lines of calling him a perverted old man whom ought to have his loins cut off for making such a comment to a women- let alone a Princess.” The memory made you smile as you shook your head, “The Bitch of Eunoia…why is it men are allowed to be angry Yoongi? Why is it women are shamed so?”

Yoongi let out a hum, “This is indeed a good question, but perhap it’s because they know a woman's scorn could even bring heaven out of the sky. I’m not all too surprised about Kimhae- but you said Eunoians called you this as well?”

Your smile became saddened, “By many court ladies yes,” You scratched your cheek in thought, “I was always lonely as a child…the war took a toll on me, I was temperamental and childish. But the court ladies as children, also liked to mock me and egg me on. As we grew older they grew closer and I still stayed a distance away. They’d find any reason to pick me apart or give me more work to do. They were practically leaping for joy when the news broke that I was engaged.”

“Why do you think that was though?” Yoongi asked, “That they didn’t like you?”

You shrugged, you had never really thought about it much, rather you preferred to keep the past where it was rather then dwell on it, “I suppose it had a lot to do with the fact that while we were all training to be healers I excelled more at it, it came naturally to me and they ended up putting me in the tents before the others. They all assumed it was from favoritism…Maybe it was,” You pondered on this briefly, “I just remember thinking it wasn’t fair.”

“Fair?”

You didn’t elaborate on the word for a long moment, feeling something akin to guilt bubble in your stomach.

You glanced off into the distance where the mountains towered high, it made you feel so tiny in comparison to its greatness, and briefly you felt awe.

You always admired nature, how vast it was compared to you and all your humanly troubles, you turned to it and it’s kin when you needed comfort and in these moments you could turn to it when you were also troubled with words.

It was difficult to adequately explain to people the rage you had felt since you were a child, anger had always been in your bones, from the moment you were born. Your mother used to tell you, that when she gave birth, you had come out of her womb with a roaring cry.

You craved to be vulnerable, to be soft and tender, to be all the things you were not, and you were many things, just not those.

Many people people heard you, they just never listened, didn’t understand.

“I had a lot of resentment as a child, to everything, the war, my parents, our country. I didn’t want to be a healer, I didn’t want to have to watch people in my care die, I didn’t want to attend the burnings or hear the whales of agony and pain, the cries of mourning, the people who blamed me for not being able to save their loved ones.”

You would be lying if you said you didn’t feel haunted by those memories, watching the lifeforce leave someone's body as you tried to stop the bleeding, the maimed limbs and mangled bodies that were beyond your skill or help.

“I didn’t want to be made to go past our lesson times to keep studying, or made to go back in to practice when all the other girls were allowed to play. Or put in a tent over night while they all slept. It wasn’t fair.”You mumbled, perhaps still a lingering tone of resentment.

The past was the past, it couldn’t be changed, you had come to terms with this, but if you stopped and really thought about it, old feelings old eventually begin to resurface, it was why you tried so desperately to just forget about it.

At one time you blamed Penumbra, you hated it’s people for what they did, what they caused.

But then you married Jungkook and you journeyed here yourself, and saw with your own eyes, that these people, were simply people, who were also victims of their own royalty.

You felt the soft grip of a hand on your shoulder, “I am sorry, for what it’s worth,” Yoongi held a face of sympathy, “We all felt the same, or…I suppose a mutual feeling on the opposite side of things. Children being forced to enlist into a war we didn’t want to wage with little choice…”

You gently grabbed his hand giving it a small squeeze, a weak smile on your face, “It wasn’t fair for any of us. We’re all a bi-product of our parents' sins. It’s up to us now to break that cycle.”

You had arrived to the estate by nightfall and it was shrouded in tall pine and fir trees, the aroma had you closing your eyes for a moment to savor it, just as Jungkook said, it truly was beautiful.

Snow covered the ground in a few inches, and a chill was left in your bones, but you settled in rather nicely, Yoongi had managed to get a fire going rather quickly and it was quiet in the solitude of the estate.

For once, it was nice to be able to breathe without being watched.

The first two days had went by surprisingly quick, but you had found a natural rhythm in nature, you went on long peaceful walks, kept yourself wrapped in a blanket while sitting on the terrace taking in the crisp cool air.

You had even spent the evening watching the snowfall outside, enchanted at how it came in big fluttering puffy balls, you had heard of snow before, but you had never actually seen it fall from the sky, like a thousand little gifts from the heavens.

It was dull and gray out today, the same as it had been for the last week now, at the estate was unsurprisingly no different.

Today however you had Yoongi set up some haybales in the pit area where guards would typically be trained, it was run down now, old boxes used as storage had been broken down and were hazardously strewn everywhere, long nine inch rusty nails sticking out of wooden pieces at razor sharp jagged angles.

But with Yoongi’s help you both had piled it up safely away and got a decent bit of space ready for training.

“Too stiff-”

“Ah!”

It was a second too late, you had already released the string, sending the arrow flying, it had veered off target as the string slapped your forearm with a sharp snap causing you to drop it.

Fenrir suddenly popped up from the ground where he had been laid out the last half hour, head cocked in concern at the noise that escaped you.

“How many times do I have to tell you,” Yoongi groaned, “You can’t hold it with a stiff arm! Look at this!” He got up from his spot as he held up your arm by the wrist, “It looks like somebody gave you a lashing! Jungkook will have my head if it isn’t heal by tomorrow.”

Your lips twisted into a sulky pout, “I am trying!”

“Not hard enough that’s the fifth time within the hour,” Yoongi whistled out as he let you go, Fenrir walking up to you as he sniffed your hand, giving it a lick before nudging it.

You rubbed your forearm, that was undeniably sore and throbbing with pain before placing your hand on Fenrir’s head to give it a nice long rub.

He had grown remarkably big in the last month, almost as big as you now, just a five or six inches shorter, it made you give a sad frown, at how big he was and soon he’d become a monstrous size…

You’d simply have to build a bigger stable you supposed.

“Aim comes naturally but holding a weapon does not,” You sighed as you placed both your hands on Fenrir’s head, now giving him generous rubs and pats that had him giving a toothy puppy grin that made you smile, “I’ve practiced here and there with a bow but with everything going on, I just haven’t made it a priority.”

Yoongi sighed, “Natural ability will only get you so far, discipline if a far greater advantage Princess, thankfully we can start working on this daily, I think it’d be good for you to have a hobby.”

“I have hobbies.” You frowned as crossed your arms.

“Such as…?” Yoongi gestured.

“Well…” You could think of several as a matter of fact, but you had given them all up once you had moved to Penumbra, the thought made you frown in realization, you had been so caught up in all the highs and lows of your new life that it was true.

You had hobbies, you just never participated in any of them.

“I suppose it would do me some good to work on it,” You sighed as you relented, “I still feel a tad guilty though, shouldn’t I be honing my skill in swordsmanship? Jungkook once told me that it’s expected the Crowned Prince and Princess are supposed to be the best at it.”

“Well…” Yoongi stretched the word, “This is true but, I don’t think somebody is going to fault you for not being the best at it. I’d like to think it’s an expectation from those born in Penumbra, not those who marry in. Not only this but if you are inclined to another form of weaponry, then it’s as simple as that.

“As long as you have some form of sword training then it’ll do,” Yoongi shrugged, “What matters is personal protection, some training is better then none, but having a form of training you’re good at is even better.”

“You Penumbrian’s certainly like taking precautions.” You sighed wistfully as you picked up your bow once more.

“The more the better,” Yoongi said, “Guards are great, but what happens when you’re caught without any? Learning to defend yourself is vital.”

You glanced down at your bow, “I understand but…”

“But?” Yoongi asked.

“Well, I suppose a part of me just feels odd,” You replied, “I grew up being taught to save lives, not take them,” You rubbed your neck in uncertainty, “When I took the Dryad’s oath, it was a promise to myself and my ancestors that I would abstain from our carnal nature. That I would never take a life nor would I consume its flesh. Animal or human. Even though the chances of me having to defend myself in such a way are so low, it’s odd to train for it, after taking that oath and living by it my whole life.”

Yoongi let out a small smile, “Then don’t view it as such.”

“What do you mean?” You tilted your head.

“Sword play is considered an art form in Penumbra, you can view a bow in the same light. It’s quite a beautiful thing really, it’s not just aiming and shooting, it’s how you hold it, the type of arrow you use, the weight of your feet. A lot goes into it.”

You thought on this for a while before nodding, “I suppose you are right.”

“Min Yoongi! I’m looking for a Min Yoongi?”

A voice called out that had you both glancing around the courtyard before seeing the courier at the gates glancing around before meeting his gaze.

“Yes?” Yoongi called out, walking up to meet him.

“I have a letter for you sire! It was urgent from the court” The courier dug through his bag before handing it to him, giving a short bow to you and then departing.

You glanced at it anxiously as you exchanged a look with Yoongi, was this about Wheein?

Yoongi opened the letter, reading it before he sighed,

“What, what is it?” You asked, anxiety in your voice.

“It’s not about Wheein,” You let out a breath in relief as Yoongi continued, “But it is a request for help.”

“What do you mean?” You asked.

Yoongi sighed, “There’s a watchtower just east of here, about an hour away give or take on horseback, apparently they’ve been dealing with a gang of bandits up there. Supposedly they’re going to siege the tower.”

“They can do that?” You asked in surprise.

Yoongi shrugged, “I suppose so, I don’t know what they think I can do about it.”

“Well you said you were an assassin before you became a knight? So surely that counts for something.” You said, setting down your bow on a lonely bale of hay.

Yoongi sighed as he folded the letter back up, “Even so, I won’t just leave you here by yourself.”

You frowned, “It’s only us here, and it’s secluded so I won’t be in any real danger, and you said it was only an hour away. I doubt you’d take long in taking them down.”

“Are you just trying to get rid of me?” Yoongi asked in mild amusement.

“I would never!” You said, “But I’d hate to see something unfortunate happen that could be prevented, you’re far closer then someone is to the castle. It would make the most sense for you to go.”

Yoongi sighed, “Even if I’m over cautious, it doesn’t sit right leaving you here all by yourself.”

“I wouldn’t be alone!” You replied, grinning as you gave Fenrir a solid pat, “Fenrir will defend me! Jungkook and I have been working on commands. Sit!”

Fenrir immediately complied.

“Very fierce.” Yoongi said dryly.

You held up a finger, grabbing a piece of wooden box that was free of any nails off the ground, “Fenrir,” He perked up at his name, “Attack!” You threw it causing his gaze to follow it with a loud snarling howl, his jaws crunching the board in half immediately grabbing the smaller end.

Running back to you before dropping down on his front paws, tail wagging as he tried to get you to chase him.

Yoongi looked a bit more startled at the thick board of wood that had been crushed as he nodded, “Okay, a little more fierce than before…” Yoongi thought about it for a long moment, “I suppose if I left now I would make it back by supper….Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

You gave him a small smile, “It’s only a few hours, I think I’ll be able to manage.”

Yoongi still seemed hesitant but he nodded, “I’ll go gather a few things then and be off. The sooner I leave the sooner I’ll be back.”

“It’s one night,” You smiled, “And then we’ll be back at the castle tomorrow.”

You had waved Yoongi off before you continued on with your day.

Spending another few hours training with your bow you had eventually given up once the string of your bow hit a particularly sensitive spot on your forearm.

The rest of your day had been spent taking walks along the trail’s with Fenrir before eventually settling inside, roaming the halls and exploring empty rooms.

And eventually the afternoon came.

But slowly the sun began to set and a vague feeling of dread followed along with it.

Yoongi…would’ve been back by now, right?

Or perhaps it took him longer to clear out the bandits.

You nodded at this as you stayed curled up in your large chair, Fenrir curled up beneath your feet as he let out a sigh, as if sensing your discomfort and unsatisfied with it.

Continuing to read, time went on and soon the sun had set.

You had managed to get a fire going on your own and had lit the candles in the hall, making the estate feel less consuming then it had before but it didn’t quell your anxiousness as the hour went on later.

Yoongi would certainly be back by now…

You were certain you’d manage the commute back to the castle if you had too but…You wouldn’t feel right just leaving without him, but you also had no way of sending a message to the castle for help without going back yourself.

You felt at a loss for what to do, as you roamed the main hall, pausing at the sound of the gate opening. Opening the doorway you hurried out to the courtyard.

“Yoongi, I’ve been waiting all day, you worried me sick!” You stopped short at the sight ahead of you.

“Not who you were expecting?”

Di Jin’s smug smile was the last thing you saw before the sudden blow to your head caused your vision to go dark.

“You look lost.” Jimin commented as he plopped in a seat right next to his dearest friend, both sat out for breakfast on the terrace.

“Was it a good idea sending her to the Estate?” Jungkook stared down in hard contemplation, his food untouched, “If something happens I won’t be able too…!”

He inhaled sharply as he forced himself to lean back in his chair, but despite the motion his body refused to relax.

You had left two days ago and he felt a void ever since.

Jungkook didn’t realize how much your presence had filled every inch of the castle until you had left, and now, he felt utterly useless, it was one thing for you to be mad at him, it was another for you to be gone.

Jimin looked amused but felt bad for him nonetheless, “Nothing is going to happen to her, the estate is nice and tucked away, the entire court has forgotten about it anyways, it hasn’t been used in years. You did a good thing.”

“Did I?” Jungkook finally slumped.

He had been constantly replaying his last memory of you, the conversation you both had before you left, the memory of you looking up at him for a long moment as if silently yearning for some form of affection.

It left Jungkook’s hands twitching and an unfamiliar ache in his chest, he couldn’t even describe how it felt. And he was honest when he spoke with you the night before, true he didn’t remember much, but what he did remember was straight from his heart, he thought he knew many things.

But after meeting you he found out quickly that he knew nothing at all.

Tomorrow, surely you’d be back tomorrow. You hadn’t given him an exact timeframe, but surely when you said a few days, you had meant no more then three?

“What if I-”

“No.” Jimin cut him off, “The whole point of her going was to get out of the castle and by default away from you. Not only that but what if something happened to Wheein while you were gone?”

Jungkook sunk back in his chair, that was right…He had promised you he would take care of anything that might possibly happen.

He wouldn’t let you down.

“Have you found any evidence yet?” Jungkook lowered his voice, his gaze lingering on the far side of the table where Claudin had been dining with a group of court ladies.

Jimin frowned, “Yes but the problem is getting it open,” He huffed, “I was able to slip into his room last night, it was empty but he has a lock box beneath a hollowed broken floorboard piece, seems he was in a hurry when he left, otherwise it wouldn’t have been left afar.

“Regardless I haven’t been able to crack the lock. Whatever is in there, it has a master’s lock on it. I’ll need at least another dozen picks before I even come close to cracking it.”

Jungkook sighed as he shook his head in disdain, “Of course when we need Yoongi he’s gone.”

Their elder would be able to open it within the hour if he was here.

Jimin frowned as well, “I’ll try again this afternoon.”

Jungkook’s eyes narrowed, “That’s early for you.”

“We’re running out of time Jungkook,” Jimin sighed, sinking back into his chair as well, eyeing Claudin with a certain wryness, “I keep hearing stirrings from the guards about how they’ve narrowed their search, but they’re hellbent on saying it was Wheein.”

“Sire,”

They both paused at the sight of Taehyun, a frown on his face as he glanced between them both, an anxious look as he bowed slightly, “It’s the council…they’ve summoned you. It doesn’t sound good, you should come as well Jimin.”

Jungkook glanced at his friend but said nothing as he stood up, not liking this one bit.

The walk to the throne room was swift and Jungkook wasted no time in arriving, the other council members had just arrived as well.

Clearly he wasn’t the only one uncertain of what was going on, other members had started hushing whispers to one another, all glancing in Jungkook’s direction occasionally as he leaned against the wall, arms crossed as he glanced at the empty throne the seats on its left occupied by his aunt and uncle whispering to one another.

They both glanced at him once before quickly looking away.

The tension felt suffocating and the longer it lasted the more anxious Jungkook felt, seconds turned into minutes and the whispers began to get louder.

And all within a moment, the doors open and a sweepingly silence took over the room save for the sound of boots against the ground. Dae Seong walked with confience in every step before standing before everyone on the throne.

“It is with confidence I have come to announce something of the utmost importance,” His voice boomed, “The attempted assassination on our Crowned Princess, was indeed committed by her maid Jung Wheein, we have reason enough to believe it was her as all the evidence points as such. Her form of punishment will be burning at the stake, tonight at the height of the moon. I ask you all join me on this divine distribution of punishment,”

Groaning softly your vision was blurry at first, and the first person to appear in your vision was not who you expected.

“Not so quick witted now are you Eunoian Bitch,” Seohyun sneered, her smirking figure beneath you as your vision of her doubled.

Your mind was confused as you only remembered Di Jin being here, your eyes closed briefly only for a sharp pain to spread through your side that you recognized as being kicked in the side by her.

Groaning your eyes opened and her eyes beaded, sneering at you as another voice spoke, “Come along now Seohyun, why don’t you go see if that insufferable knight has managed to come back yet, I will finish our business here.”

She eyed you warily but said no more as she left and soon Di Jin stood in front of you, “You have truly been a pain in my ass since I was enlisted to kill you, I only hope you realize that.”

There was no remorse in his eyes as he pulled the wickedly curved knife from it’s sheath and a sadistic smile curled on his face, “Don’t worry Princess, i’ll make sure you have a slow miserable death.”

Despite your sluggish movements, adrenaline had shot in your veins as you realized you were about to die, you had too much to live for still. You needed to see what would come of Eunoia, you needed to make sure Wheein was okay, that you would keep your promise to Jungkook.

You couldn’t die, and you would fight if it meant living to see it.

Your mind was slowly coming out of it’s haze as Di Jin stepped closer to you, realizing you were in the courtyard near the hay bales, the pile you had cleaned early next to you, your arm reached over to grab one of the planks, three long rusted nails sticking out of it.

You swung it with as much force as you could towards his legs, it made contact, the nail piercing his skin with a wet noise as he cried out in pain, falling back on the ground as he growled out. “You dumb bitch, a pain until the end!”

You attempted to crawl away, heart pounding in your ears as you scurried but he was still too mobile, yanking the plank out of his leg with a growl of pain as he managed to get on top of you, you caught his wrists as he attempted to plunge the knife in your throat, “I’ll enjoy watching the life leave your eyes. I’ll be sure to bring your head back for your little husband to see one last time.”

Your strength was already failing as you winced out, the knife slowly coming closer to your skin as you whimpered out as it pierced the first layer of your flesh.

It was an indescrible pain that had you yelping in pain,

“I’ll make these last few moments the most excruciating and perhaps if you beg me enough, I might just end your pathetic little life girl,” Di Jin grinned leaning in closer, “Maybe if you beg me more i’ll give you a little more than just a long death.”

He pushed the knife a little deeper as blood spilled from your skin making you cry out, his body weighing heavier on yours and his lips suddenly pressing to your ear, “Something tells me you’d prefer that over this.”

Something about his lips pressing against your skin lit something primal inside of you, every sense heightened inside you as your lips parted taking a wide bite into his neck, you could taste it first, the metallic flavor of blood running across your tongue and dripping down your throat and then his skin was next, uncomfortably soft and tender and next was the cartilage, it was rubbery and had hard bits in it, next was the sensation of something warm and wet against your face.

Di Jin could no longer properly speak, his grip suddenly loosened on the knife as you yanked the large chunk of flesh straight from his neck, grabbing the knife as you yanked it away shoving him down as you managed to get on top of him.

The chunk missing from his neck was ghastly, blood pooling on the ground, oozing everywhere and squirting from various places and he was gagging loudly, choking on his own blood.

Anger trembled in your body, it wasn’t enough, even with chunks of flesh missing and blood covering your face, skin hanging and cartilage visible it still wasn’t enough, before you could even think you plunged the knife into his neck, eyes blurring as you watched him gurgle, choking on his own blood as the life left his eyes.

Your hands were shaking as you waited for him to jump back to life to kill you, and then you slowly realized your vision was blurred from tears, your heart pounding as you took a shaky breath yanking the knife out of his neck before you let out blood curdling scream slamming it back in his neck again.

Jungkook’s betrayal.

Wheein being taken.

Exiled from your own kingdom.

Being forced to wed.

Made into a healer as a child.

Bone.

Blood.

Ash.

The mourning bells rang in your head and you could vividly taste the metallic on your tongue stronger than ever as the taste of raw flesh lingered in your throat.

Blood splattered upward as you stabbed the spot over again, all of the rage searing in your veins as Di Jin’s form became disfigured, his neck nearly separating his head from his body as you shoved the knife in deeper.

Hearing the wet gurgling noise as you heaved a breath, staring at his cold dead eyes staring back at you, the next scream was not your own, but it came closer within seconds before the door to the estate opened.

Seohyun was heavily bleeding from her left thigh, sporting a large bite as a loud snarl came from inside the door, shakily you stood up, “Fenrir, wait.”

The large wolf paused, and that's when you noticed the large gash on his leg, causing him to limp, rage quelled in your veins again as you limped over, Seohyun looked pale a ghost at the sight of you.

From the moment this woman met you, she had given you nothing but grief, attempted to humiliate you, belittle you, try to win a lost battle, attempt to kill you, and now she had hurt your precious companion.

Even with a mangled body behind you, it still wasn’t enough.

Tripping over her own two feet she fell down as you walked over, “We can talk about this Y/n!” Her eyes were as big as saucers, “Please! I’ll leave Penumbra and- and never come back.”

You felt nothing for her as you stood above her, watching pathetic tears drip down her face for a long moment, finally you knelt down, “If Penumbra has taught me anything Seohyun, It’s that some people do not deserve my forgiveness, nor my kindness.”

Her lips parted rapidly, her throat scratchy, and for the first time, you saw genuine fear in her eyes, “B-but you’re a Eunoian,”

Her words were pointed, bargaining, pleading even- if you listened close enough, “Eunoian’s don’t kill.”

Your lips slowly lifted into a joyless smile as you let out an uneasy laugh, “Well,” Your smile dropped, your hands were still shaky, unbridled rage still taunt in your veins.

The primal urge of need to prove her wrong, prove all of them wrong, that you would never again be looked down upon as weak or underestimated.

Your hand grabbed her neck, causing her to let out a choked sob as you squeezed it tight enough to choke her airway, yanking her nearly nose to nose with you.

“We’re not in Eunoia, are we?” Your nails dug into her neck, not stopping until you felt the blood from her skin oozing, you shoved her back before you stood up, ignoring her blubbering, tears trickling down her face as you walked away, “Fenrir.”

“Please!”

He let out a growl, “Attack.”

Her cries of agony were left of deaf ears as you walked back over to the corpse of Di Jin grabbing the knife from his neck and yanking it out before taking the sheath that went with it, adjusting it on your waist.

Collapsing on the ground away from him you noticed your hands for the first time, shaking, trembling as your vision blurred once more, scarred and covered in blood, just what had you done?

Fenrir’s mouth was covered in blood, but the whine didn’t escape your ears as he tenderly tried to sit down in front of you.

“I’m sorry.” You ushered, grief strong in your voice though uncertain of who it was for, yourself, your country, your companion, you reached out for him, gently rubbing your hand down his neck, “But we have a long journey ahead of us Fenrir.”

The bells were ringing and a somber air had taken over, Jungkook had nearly lost his entire wits, his father had banished him from the room, not wanting to hear another word from him about this.

Being told he was too sentimental fell on deaf ears, he didn’t care, it was his friend, it was injustice, it was corrupt. He hated it, he hated that despite being the crowned prince, his son, his father simply didn’t care.

All Jungkook could do was wait for Jimin to unlock this damn box. But it felt as though it was too late, he was banned from so much as leaving his room, guards at his door there to keep him boxed in but this wouldn’t stop him.

pulling the cloak over his head, he opened the window, the bricks were jagged and uneven enough that he could easily climb down, he did it often when he was younger, much to the blindness of his father.

Scaling the wall, Jungkook got down, feet planted firmly on the ground as he kept the hood over his head tight as he made his way to the courtyard. A crowd had gathered, all wanting to witness the supposed assassin.

Nobody paid mind to him with his identity concealed, it would be soon now. If he couldn’t get evidence to get Wheein out, then Jungkook would take matters into his own hand. He didn’t want to have Wheein leave Penumbra, but if this is what it took to keep her safe until her innocence was proven, this is what he would do.

He owed so much of his existence to her, he couldn’t let this happen.

He wasn’t going to let this happen.

The bells stopped as Dae Seong stood up from his throne on the wooden stage they had set up, “We have all gathered here to see the execution of the assassin who tried to kill our crowned princess! Her very own handmaid, this is the killer, our own flesh and blood, and the punishment for a traitorous woman is fitting, burning of the steak!”

Wheein was brought out, her hands tied behind her back, her eyes had dark circles and she was crying as she shook her head, “Please! I would never do that to Penumbra! To Y/n! Please you have to believe me!”

But her cries were in vein as the crowd boo’d her, all shouting vile words her way as they dragged her down to the large wooden steak pyre that had been set up.

Jungkook shifted in his spot as he watched them begin to tie her up.

“Are there any last words you would like to impart to us traitor?” Dae Seong looked at her with pure disgust.

Wheein’s lips quivered as she parted them.

A loud bloodcurdling scream interrupted her before she could speak, the crowd tensed and everyone seemed alert, Jungkook was towards the front, having intended on getting her off there the right moment, but he quickly turned around to see people quickly departing and creating a path.

And the next thing he saw was hardly comprehensible.

You, covered in blood, your face was a horrific sight with it’s dried crimson color covering your mouth all the way down your neck, but what was even more horrifying was what was next to you, Fenrir limping beside you, a corpse held in his mouth.

Women screamed and men gasped in horror as they all moved.

The looks on the royals faces were indescribable, Dae Seong most of all, “What is the meaning of this?”

You stopped in front of the throne, Fenrir as if knowing this was the destination, dropped the body from his jaws, it smacked the ground with a wet echo, the head finally detaching from the body as it rolled towards Dae Seong.

You don’t think you had ever seen an expression quite like what Dae Seong had, and you were sure this would be the only time.

It was silent for a long moment before you finally spoke, your throat raw and scratchy, “That’s your assassin, he tried to kill me again just hours ago.”

Dae Seong’s look of shock slowly twisted into one of rage, “Where is your proof of this!” He stood up from his throne towering over you with a growl, “What does a girl like you have meddling in business you don’t understand and taking the lives of those who were helping!”

“Am I standing in front of you not proof enough?” You snarled back, “From the moment I have come to this kingdom I have been nothing but disrespected, disregarded, used, and seen as nothing more than a tool to further someone’s agenda. And i’m sick of it.”

“Even when it comes to my own life, you stand in front of me questioning it!”

“Why I ought too!-”

“I have it!” A voice cried out, Jimin was running from the side entrance of the courtyard, a notebook in his hand as he panted, his eyes widening when they set on you, ‘Y/n!? Are you okay? I have it, I have proof that Di Jin was the assassin! Here, your majesty.”

Dae Seong snatched it with a certain level of venom as he looked through the book, but slowly as his eyes read through, an unreadable look took over his face.

Exhaustion began to take over, your body beginning to sway.

Dae Seong closed the book with a sense of finality, “Very well,” He aid with gritted teeth, anger still simmering in his eyes, “Perhaps, you do have the grit to survive here princess.”

You didn’t hear his words though, your gaze had went down to the body of Di Jin, and swaying backwards you collapsed into an abyss of darkness, nothing more then multiple people calling your name.

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