#THANK YOU FOR BEING PATIENT I AM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG

[definitelynotshouting]

alright WELL expect me to send more than one ask bc I’m awful <33 but THESE AU’S OKAYYY ALRIGHTH I AM LOOKINGGG +_+!!!!

I’ll be nice. I’ll be nice and ask for elaboration on one thing first while I let them simmer in my brain but I would love to hear the brainrot behind the kemetic symbolism 😳😳

- gonna make this easier by not signing off with a name but. an emoji here 🪐 wow. emoji so amaze but it’s eirian HI TOO FRIEND!!

Thank you for waiting patiently for me to answer this, friend, bc this is one of those concepts that i need a lot of time and space to properly brainrot abt bc it just means so much to me

To preface, i am a kemetic pagan, aka, i worship the ancient egyptian gods!! Ive been practicing for a solid decade now-- every so often i'll post something relevant to that on this blog since this is also where i post my art :] this au is essentially me saying "i see all ur religious imagery aus but what if. what if MY religious imagery au" and proceeding to go buckwild with it

Spoiler alert: i will be talking extensively abt kemeticism and kemetic imagery ahead; I will also be using terms the average layman might not be familiar with, so apologies in advance and feel free to ask clarifying questions if you're curious! Also obligatory cw for the canon typical suicide at the end of 3rd life, as well as some body horror/gore but i wont get too detailed with it.

The general premise is that post 3rd life, after Grian jumps from the cliff and falls to his death, he doesn't actually die; instead, broken and bleeding, he climbs to his feet and trails off without a true destination into the desert. His journey is intended to explicitly mirror the journey one would take through the Duat (the "Underworld") and to the Hall of Two Truths, where your heart is weighed to see if you may pass into the Field of Reeds (the afterlife¹).

The other part of the premise is that this fic is also an extended character study; Grian's journey involves one of guilt, grief, self-acceptance, and cleansing. There are a lot of things i want to incorporate into this-- like some of the 42 negative confessions, which is a spell in the Book of Coming Forth by Day (or more commonly known as the Book of the Dead) that consists of affirmations stating that one has not done certain things while in life. These confessions are generally understood less as literal truths and more as a purifying ritual, which is what i plan to use for Grian; there's something deeply heartbreaking about the concept of Grian telling himself, over and over, that he "has not caused pain," "has not caused weeping," and "has not killed" -- and something equally meaningful to me about him finally shedding that weight to actually embody what he's saying.

I also want to incorporate the concept of cleansing with natron, as well as water, and also other rituals used in both antiquity and modernity by my fellow kemetics. Cleansing is a very important concept in this fic: the idea that you are washing away isfet² and inviting ma'at³ in its place is central to the theme of healing and moving on that sits at the heart of this narrative.

Another common theme in the fic is Grian taking the place of many gods in their roles. One very important aspect of this is the continual Weighing of the Heart Ceremony that is conducted in dreams each night during Grian's journey. Grian proceeds to take on the roles of Anpu (Anubis), Wesir (Osiris), Djehuty (Thoth), the 42 Judges, Ma'at, and even the netjeri⁴ Ammit during this ceremony-- by ripping out his own heart, weighing it against one of his primary feathers, and eating it when it proves too heavy. These dreams continue over and over again throughout the fic, with the heart becoming progressively lighter as he begins to cleanse himself of the tragedy he took part in and moves toward the "afterlife," which in this case is Hermitcraft.

Scar, in this case, doesn't have a concrete role so much as his presence is quite literally haunting the narrative. I have yet to get my hands on a copy of Faulkner's⁵ Book of the Dead translation, but once i do i'll have a better picture of what i want to do with him, and how i want to incorporate him into the various pitfalls that come with one's journey through the Duat.

All in all, the fic is wildly self indulgent for me as a kemetic, and a fun way to connect my religion to my current hyperfixation :] thank you for asking about it because i have a LOT of feelings over the entire concept<3 if anyone is curious about the things i've said here, i'm super happy to answer questions about them-- regardless of whether they're about the fic or my religion.

Notes:

¹ in kemeticism, our afterlife isn't a paradise like you might associate with the concept of heaven, or the hellenic elysian fields, but is basically the idealized life of what you would have lived while on earth. I could go into a lot more detail with this (there are a lot of nuances that im simplifying here) but for now this is a good enough explanation.

² isfet is a bit of a hard term to translate, but the easiest way i can put it is the concept of non-constructive chaos. there are many beneficial kinds of chaos (such as those involved in the cycle of creation and balance), but isfet is something that unmakes and destroys. a very big part of kemeticism is casting out isfet and inviting ma'at in its place.

³ ma'at is both a goddess and a concept. it can be roughly translated to "truth/balance/justice" and is the act of creation itself. to invite ma'at is to invite order and balance into your life, and deny anything the footholds needed to unmake you or others.

⁴ netjeri is a relatively new term coined by Rev. Dr. Tamara L. Siuda (Hekatawy Alexandros), the Nisut (or leader) of Kemetic Orthodoxy, in order to shed the culturally christian baggage attached to the translation "demons" (which is the scholarly term). it can be essentially translated as "god-like." the best way i can describe them is as a class of creatures and spirits with a multitude of dispositions and roles, that are not actual gods. some of them however are considered minor deities, such as the sons of Heru-wer (Horus the Elder).

⁵ Faulkner's translation is the best and most accurate translation we have so far. if you see a translation by Budge, fucking run, that man was so innaccurate its actually physically painful

Final disclaimer: i am coming at these explanations of kemeticism from the lens of a modern kemetic pagan who is trying to keep them layman-friendly. while i do my best to make sure the information i give is accurate, i am not an egyptologist, and there are some things i haven't gotten very far with in regards to my personal studies. just keep in mind that there are some things i might have generalized for the sake of convenience, feel free to ask me more if you have questions, and do good independent research if you find yourself curious!! and a massive thanks to anyone who has gotten this far in reading something very special to me<3

[h3lian]

༝ Sketch commission for @monsonata 𓋼𖤣𖥧

[trouvelafoi]

[ 𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 ] : facing a greater threat, sender and receiver must work together. (from @lastsongbird - so maybe a walker (or a group of them) forces the girls to collaborate? I know Anna won't be happy about it but staying alive is more important)

There have been plenty of moments of anger and resentment in their relationship- Isabelle knows she's garnered her own share of these feelings, despite her best efforts not to- but these moments of fear seemingly happen in the worst and, somehow, right moments.

Quick to pull the blade from where it was hidden on her, Isabelle's gaze darts around before landing upon her companion.

"Do you have something to defend yourself with? Something quieter than a gun?" Though, despite the question, she doesn't hesitate to give the larger knife she dons to Anna and pulls the switch blade Daryl had insisted on her keeping on herself at all times.

Truthfully, Isabelle hadn't understood why Daryl had been so insistent that she take multiple weapons whenever she goes out.

She'll have to remember to tell him he was right.

Without thought, she takes the hand closest to her and attempts to guide Anna around the corner, only after she's listened for the mangled groans of les affamés.

[punkshort]

Evergreen | Chapter One: Denial

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Chapter Summary: Tommy encourages Joel to join bereavement group counseling, where he meets you. You connect over a similar loss and the common thread of loneliness, leading to something unexpected for you both.

Chapter Warnings: grief, angst, mentions of OC deaths, mild references to: suicide, self harm, drug use (none by reader or Joel), language, panic/anxiety attack (Joel), Joel POV

WC: 8.8K

A/N: I've been working on this goddamn series since May. Sorry it's taken me so long to get around to it but I am committing to a posting schedule now that it is almost complete and I appreciate you all for being so patient. Hope you enjoy tons of fluff and softness and angst.

Series Masterlist

Joel's hands gripped the steering wheel as he stared blankly at the faded brick building connected to the small, run down parking lot. He watched as the clock ticked down to six in the evening, and with each passing minute a new car parked nearby or someone walked through the double doors. He wasn't sure what he expected, but he was surprised to see people of all ages streaming inside.

Then he saw a young woman with two children, one in each hand, neither of which could have been over seven years old, walk inside with watery eyes and he dropped his gaze to his lap in shame.

Mia had been gone for nearly ten years. He had no business being there. His grief wasn't fresh. Over the years, he's learned to cope with it, to live alongside it. The people who were there that night needed the support.

Joel didn't need support. He was just lonely.

He reached for his key, still dangling in the ignition, when his phone rang. With a sigh, he patted down the front of his jeans until he located his phone, then lifted his hips off the worn seat with a grunt so he could fish it out.

"Yeah?"

"You better not be thinkin' 'bout leavin'."

Joel swiveled around in alarm, searching the parking lot for his brother's truck, but all he saw were the last few stragglers hurriedly walking up to the front doors, the anguish practically weighing them down as they moved.

"You watchin' me now?"

Tommy chuckled on the other end.

"Nah, I'm at home. I just know you."

Joel rolled his eyes as the clock ticked to 6:01 on the dash.

"This is stupid, Tommy."

"It ain't stupid. It's been almost ten years and you've never looked twice at another woman. You can tell me you've moved on or that you're fine, but I'm not buying your bullshit," Tommy said sternly on the other end. "I don't think you ever gave yourself a chance to process what happened and it's important you do that. For your mental health and all that."

"Maria tell you to say that?" Joel scoffed, but still unbuckled his seatbelt and opened the door.

"Maybe. Don't matter who said it, it's true."

"Fine. I'm walkin' in now, I'll call you later," Joel said, then hung up without waiting for a reply.

The building wasn't very big. From the lobby, Joel could hear a male's voice making what sounded like brief introductions as he strolled quickly down the hall. He rested his hand on the push bar and took a deep breath. Right as he was about to enter, he heard someone else's light footsteps jogging up behind him. He turned around as you approached, a little breathless and with a guilty smile.

"Oh, good, I'm not the only one who's late," you said, nodding towards the door.

"Uh, yeah," Joel said, clearing his throat softly, "we can share the heat," he joked, opening the door and stepping aside so you could walk through first. You shot him a grateful look and mouthed thank you before entering the room.

The group all turned their heads at the disruption, as expected, but the counselor waved them in with a warm smile.

"Welcome! Have a seat, we were just getting started."

Joel found the first empty chair he could, in the very last row closest to the door. You glanced around the room before sliding into the same row as him, just a few seats down.

"As I was saying, welcome to the grief and loss support group. I'm Dr. Harris, but please feel free to call me Ryan."

Ryan was young. Definitely under forty. Something about that irked Joel. He imagined this man going to school to learn how to be caring, how to listen and say all the right words at the right time so he could make a decent paycheck and call himself doctor while he went home to his wife and picket fence and his patients went home with a gaping hole in their hearts.

"There is no wrong way to grieve," Ryan was saying from the podium with a practiced look of solemnity. "All of you are here for different reasons. And while you may look around here and think nobody else could possibly understand what you are feeling, I am here to tell you that you are simply wrong." Ryan took a moment to let his words settle over the group before continuing. "We have all lost somebody in our lives. That is the common thread that weaves us all together. And I'm here to tell you to use it." Ryan clenched his fists for emphasis and Joel had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. "Lean on each other. Listen to one another. This is a safe space. Nobody will judge you here, no matter what you may think, everybody in this room is here for the same reason."

After what felt like an eternity, Ryan invited the people in the room to approach the podium to speak, no longer than ten minutes, he had said, reminding everyone that their time was limited and they always could speak again at the next meeting.

One by one, people trickled up to the front of the room. First it was an elderly woman who explained with tears in her eyes that her husband of forty years passed away a month ago.

"It sounds silly," she sniffled, "but it feels like I'm... untethered. Like I lost my connection to this world when he left and I'm scared I might just... float away."

Next was a man around Joel's age who visibly struggled to hold back his tears about his late sister.

"I just keep reminding myself I didn't cause it, I can't control it, can't undo it. I'm really mad at myself for not paying attention to the warning signs. She was struggling, y'know?" His glassy eyes addressed the group briefly before he cast his gaze back down. "The best thing I can do is try to rebuild. Don't let the anguish fester. Don't let it consume me. Because she wouldn't want that."

After that, a girl no older than twenty, arms and neck covered in tattoos walked to the front. "She was my best friend since we were eight. And I know it's my fault, I know it is," she choked out, tears slipping down her cheeks. "I gave her her first hit. I could see she was falling too deep into it and I didn't try to help her, I was too focused on my own shit and not seeing what was right in front of me. To this day, I can't look her mom in the eye-" the girl hung her head and took a moment to gather herself. Chairs squeaked as the group patiently waited for her to continue. "But I'm clean and sober almost six months now," she said with a watery smile. A small round of applause broke out amongst the group and she nodded her thanks. "I'm thinking about going to school for social work. Maybe I can honor her memory in some way."

Out of the corner of his eye he saw you cross and uncross your legs nervously but made no move to walk to the front.

Same as him.

When the clock on the wall ticked closer to seven, Ryan addressed the group one final time.

"I'll stick around in case anybody wants to have a talk after group. Just a reminder that I'm only here once a week, but my esteemed colleague, Grace, runs another group on Tuesdays, so please feel free to stop by one or both. I also left some cards in the back next to the coffee. My information is on there if you would like a one on one appointment and on the back is the crisis hotline. Please take one, you never know when you may need it."

The room collectively seemed to stand, a murmur rippling through the group as people began to softly speak again, reaching out to neighbors, either introducing themselves or catching up from the last session. Joel scratched at his chin and looked around the room as people continued to filter around. Some paired off to grab coffee, some went to talk to Ryan, but Joel just stood there. All alone.

He took a deep breath and headed for the back, then lingered at the small stack of business cards Ryan had mentioned. He picked one up and flipped it over, studying it, when he heard a soft voice behind him.

"Excuse me," you said, and he swiveled around in surprise.

"Oh, sorry," he replied, stepping to the side so you could reach the coffee. He pretended to look at the card but watched as you filled up a cup. He waited for you to add cream or sugar but you didn't. You lifted the cup to your lips and took a tentative sip before recoiling at the heat and doing it again.

"That, uh, any good?"

Your eyes locked onto his and you shrugged. "'Bout what you'd expect."

He smiled and looked around the room, fidgeting with the edge of the card before sliding it into his pocket. "This your first session, too?"

You shook your head and stepped aside, a little closer to him, so others could get to the coffee. "I've been coming here almost two months."

That surprised Joel. Based on the way the rest of the group seemed familiar with each other, he had suspected the two of you were both new.

"Two months? Wow," Joel said, "how's it workin' out for you, if you don't mind my askin'?"

You sighed and gave him a little smile.

"Some days are better than others. But I figure it doesn't hurt, so..." you trailed off and crossed your arms, your fingertips tapping against the paper cup. "My mom begged me to come, so I did. I think it makes her believe she's helping in some way by pushing it and I grew tired of feeling like an emotional burden."

Joel frowned. "I'm sure that ain't true. No parent thinks their kid is an emotional burden."

You chuckled and drained the rest of your cup. "You'd be surprised." You tossed the cup into the trash before giving him a brighter smile. Although expressing your emotions was the entire reason you were there, you still felt uncomfortable doing it. "So this was your first time? What did you think?"

"Jury's still out," Joel replied honestly. "Promised my brother I would give it a try, same as you. My daughter just went off to college last month and I think he and his wife are worried 'bout me bein' all alone for the first time in, well... forever, I suppose." His lips pursed in thought for a moment. "Feels kinda like I don't belong here. My wife passed almost ten years ago. I've learned to live with it by now. It ain't as raw as all that-" he gestured up to the podium, referencing all the individuals who poured their hearts out for the past hour. Then he realized he was rambling and chuckled. "Sorry. Can't seem to shut up." He looked at you sheepishly and you smiled back.

"That's good. That's what you're supposed to do here," you assured him, then took a deep breath. "I lost my fiancé a year ago, so I can relate... kind of."

"I'm sorry," he said, furrowing his brow and examining your face. "You're so young, you shouldn't know what that feels like at your age."

"Not that young. I'm thirty-one," you joked. He laughed and rubbed his chin.

"Well I got twenty years on you, seems pretty young to me."

"You're fifty-one?" you asked, and he nodded. "You look good, I wouldn't have guessed a day over..." you trailed off as you studied his face and he grinned.

"Go ahead, be honest."

"Forty-three," you decided, and Joel laughed. When was the last time he felt this lighthearted?

"Well that's the nicest thing I've heard all week," he replied. The room began to thin out and you shifted your weight.

"Well, I guess I should get going," you told him, almost sounding regretful. Then you pinched your eyebrows together. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name."

"Joel," he said, sticking an arm out to shake your hand. You gave him a warm smile before telling him your name, your hand getting dwarfed by his thick, rough fingers.

"Will I see you next week, Joel?"

"Yeah," he replied, walking out with you and holding open the door. "I'll give it another chance."

"Good. I mean, you know, I'm glad you're giving it another chance," you found yourself inexplicably stumbling over your words and before your face began to heat up you veered off towards your car with a quick wave.

Joel's eyes trailed after you for a minute before he opened the door to his truck and climbed inside. He absentmindedly rubbed his thumb against his lower lip, lost in thought while he stared straight ahead at the emptying parking lot. Then you drove by in a higher end white SUV and he watched as you took a right turn out of the lot and disappeared down the road. He sighed and started his truck, realizing he was one of the last cars in the lot, and decided to stop at a fast food drive thru on the way home.

"Uncle Tommy told me you went to a grief support group the other day, how did it go?" Sarah asked him over FaceTime. He pushed the lever on his recliner and leaned back into the chair with a grunt.

"S'alright," he mumbled.

"Did you share anything?"

"No."

"Well, why not?"

"'Cause, baby girl, these people just lost someone close to 'em. I can't get up there and talk 'bout your mama, it's been so long-"

"That doesn't matter," she said, interrupting him. He could hear other kids in the background laughing but she remained focused on her screen. "I don't think you've ever really processed Mom's death and it's important to me that you try. I worry about you, old man," she teased, and Joel grinned.

"No need to worry 'bout me, I'm stayin' busy."

"Yeah, doing what? And don't tell me you're eating frozen meals and watching baseball because it'll break my heart."

Joel's eyes drifted to the empty plastic tray on the coffee table.

"No," he said gruffly. "Ain't baseball season. I'm watchin' basketball."

Sarah rolled her eyes. "Dad," she whined, "what about your friends? The guys from work?"

He didn't have the heart to tell her they were busy with their families, with their wives, so he lied.

"Yeah, I'm gonna get together with Jimmy later this week. Gonna shoot some pool."

"That sounds great!" Sarah exclaimed, her face instantly brightening. Her eyes snapped up to someone behind her phone and she grinned, holding up one finger, then looked back at him. "Listen, Dad, I gotta run. I promised a few friends I would go to the football game with them."

"Oh, so you'll watch football with your friends and not me?" he teased, and she giggled. "Alright then, text me when you get back home safe."

"I will. I love you."

No matter how many times he heard it, those words always warmed his heart.

"Love you too, baby girl."

The call ended and he set his phone down with a sigh. Sarah was right. He couldn't waste away in his house all alone, waiting for her to come home to visit or for Tommy and Maria to come by for dinner. He needed to get a hobby. He glanced outside then looked at the time before turning off the television and pushing himself out of his recliner with a groan. He shuffled down the hall to his bedroom to change out of his old sweatpants and ratty tshirt, then snatched his keys off the kitchen counter and headed out to the driveway.

He drove aimlessly through town, his window down with his arm hanging out, soaking up the sun's rays. Kids were playing on the sidewalks and people were walking their dogs or pushing strollers. Everyone just seemed so... happy. Content.

Maybe he should get a dog.

Maybe he should start with a fish, first.

He jumped on the highway and cruised with one hand on the steering wheel. Hank Williams crooned from the radio and Joel took a deep, relaxing breath. He was coming up on the exit for the mall. Sarah loved dragging him to the mall. A smile played on his lips and he figured why not.

He veered off the highway and slowed when he approached the red light, the mall parking lot straight ahead. It didn't look terribly busy. With the weather as nice as it was, he imagined most people would be spending their time outside.

Joel found a good spot right out front. He shoved his hands deep in his pockets and walked inside through the Macy's. A blast of freezing cold air conditioning hit him like a ton of bricks, cooling the sweat that was collecting on the back of his neck. He managed to make his way through the maze of the department store and entered the mall itself. There were a few groups of girls around Sarah's age giggling and carrying shopping bags and the random couple here or there walking into William Sonoma or Brookstone.

When he passed by the food court, he saw a few solitary older men sipping coffee and reading the paper or people watching. Joel huffed under his breath, wondering who on earth would come to the mall just to read a paper until he realized he was no better.

Was he going to become just like them one day? Would he come to the mall to nurse a coffee just so he wouldn't feel so alone? The thought had his throat closing up.

He paused and leaned against a railing overlooking the bottom floor of the mall, pretending to be looking for someone when in reality he was struggling to breathe. His heart was fluttering too fast in his chest and his vision was narrowing.

"Shit," he whispered to himself, rubbing his eyes and trying to focus on taking deep breaths. It was like reality crashed down around him all at once: Sarah was moved out of the house. Tommy was happily married. And Joel was going to die all alone.

He gasped and blinked, trying to clear his head and mentally talk himself down, but it was no use. He leaned forward a bit to rest his forehead on the cool, stainless steel railing but his knees began to buckle. Just when he thought he would need to stop someone and beg them to call an ambulance, he heard someone say his name, temporarily snapping him out of his daze.

"Are you okay?" you asked, the smile slipping from your face when you noticed how flush he looked. He could only manage to shake his head. Without hesitating, you wrapped an arm around his shoulders and helped him stand, then glanced around. Spotting an empty bench, you led him over and helped him sit. You rubbed your palm over his upper back soothingly and sat next to him, reminding him to breathe deeply until his vision cleared and he felt his strength return.

"Christ," he mumbled. He sat up and leaned back so the back of his head rested on the bench and stretched his long legs out. "Thank you," he added, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers.

"No problem," you said, "is everything okay?"

"Yeah. Or, no. I don't know," he sighed, dropping his hand from his face. "I think it just hit me all at once."

You slid over on the bench to give him more room. "What hit you all at once?"

"That my little girl is growin' up and -" he stopped himself, the words and I'm all alone getting trapped in his throat. "And I just miss her, is all."

You slowly nodded and glanced around the mall. "What does she like?"

He smiled. "Clothes. Music. Makeup. Books."

"What kind of books?"

"The fantasy kind. Y'know, like Lord of the Rings or Harry Potter."

A huge grin spread across your face. "Follow me, I have an idea," you said, standing up and looking down at him before you realized you might have overstepped. "I mean, unless you're-"

"No, let's go," he replied, standing up and stretching out an arm for you to lead the way. He fell in step next to you as you led him down towards the other end of the mall and after a few minutes, he realized where you were leading him.

"The bookstore?"

"Yep," you said cheerily, shooting him a playful grin. "Trust me."

And he did.

"There's some really incredible series out there right now. Why don't we pick one out, you can read it and share it with her so you guys have something to do together from a distance? Do you know if she's read The Word of the Heir? That's by an incredibly talented author who actually got the idea when she was only seven years old," you told him excitedly, leading him deep into the bookstore, dodging tables and displays until you made it to the fantasy section. Joel slowed down and looked around, his panic attack slipping further and further from his mind.

"Uh, I ain't sure," he replied as you held up the book. You tucked it under your arm and began to look again.

"How about Empire of Kings? I haven't read that one but the author is relatively new and I've heard he's an extremely talented storyteller."

Joel shrugged, again unsure what Sarah may or may not have read. All of the titles sounded so foreign to him until his eyes landed on the spine of a thick, hardcover book.

"Oh, this one sounds familiar," he said, plucking it from the shelf. "The Crimson Stone. I think she wanted to read this but I don't think she ever finished it. It's a series-"

"Yeah, I know that one," you told him quietly. He glanced down at the book again and read the author's name.

"Daniel Davis, ain't this the guy who died in that bad wreck downtown?" Joel mumbled as he flipped the book over in his hands to read the back. You nodded. "Maybe I'll get this one."

"Don't waste your money, I can give it to you for free," you said, gently taking it from his hands. You ran your palm distractedly over the cover before flipping it open and looking at the tiny black and white photo of the author on the inside jacket. "This was my fiancé," you added, your voice thick. Joel's eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"Shit," he mumbled. "I-I'm sorry, his name just sounded familiar, I remember it from the paper..." he trailed off, floundering for what to say to comfort you. Why couldn't he fucking think?

"It's okay," you told him, waving him off, but the guilt still laid heavy in his chest. "There's no way you would have known." You slowly closed the book, giving the picture one more glance, and handed it back to him. "But really, if you want to read them I have tons of copies just sitting around. He had a few other books outside of this series, as well, if you guys wanted them."

Joel's eyebrows knit together. "I don't wanna take your books. They gotta have sentimental value or somethin'."

"No, seriously, I have boxes of them just sitting there. He was in the middle of signing copies for readings he was supposed to do before-" you stopped yourself and cleared your throat. "Anyway. I can bring them to group next week or you can come by the house and look through them yourself if you like."

Joel nodded and nervously chewed the inside of his cheek. "Do you wanna talk 'bout it?"

You looked up at him then, all wide eyed and filled with so much sadness that it made his chest ache. No one so young and pretty should have to go through so much pain. Your eyes drifted over his face for a moment, quietly studying him before responding. "Yeah. I kind of do."

Joel looked over his shoulder and spotted the café across from the bookstore. "You wanna get a coffee and find a quiet bench or somethin'?"

"That sounds nice," you replied, so he put the books back on the shelf and walked out into the mall. He spotted a bench near an empty storefront and he told you to go have a seat with the promise of bringing you back something to drink. There wasn't a line at the counter. He couldn't imagine many people wanted coffee that late in the day, so it only took a few minutes before the barista slid the two cups of black coffee across the counter and he met you back at the bench.

"Black, right?"

You smiled and gingerly took the cup. "Yeah, how did you know?"

"From group the other day," he replied, then sat down with a grunt. You sat in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, each of you letting your coffees cool before you spoke.

"I usually don't talk about it. Every week I tell myself I'm gonna go up to that podium and pour my heart out and every week I chicken out."

Joel didn't say a word. He learned early on with Sarah when she was upset, she just wanted someone to listen to her. So that's exactly what he did. He sipped his coffee and just listened. And before you even realized it, you were telling him everything.

You began by telling him Daniel was from Austin but you met in Portland, where you grew up. For a while, the two of you tried doing a long-distance relationship, but once you were finished with school you took him up on the offer to move in with him in Texas. Shortly thereafter, he proposed and you had spent the last year of his life planning your dream wedding. The night of the accident, you had been touring a venue an hour outside the city. It was dark when you finished up and drove back home.

Daniel didn't do anything wrong. You insisted Joel knew that first.

A truck driver had fallen asleep at the wheel and ran a light, completely crushing the driver's side and killing Daniel instantly. Somehow, you had only come out of the accident with a small concussion and a badly bruised chest from the seatbelt.

"Jesus," Joel muttered when you exhaled a shaky breath. "I'm sorry, darlin'. That's some fucked up shit." His eyes widened and he straightened up in his seat. "Shit, sorry for cursin'... twice." He scratched the back of his head uncomfortably and a slow smile spread across your face. He nearly jumped out of his skin when you burst out laughing.

"Thank you," you said in between giggles. He grinned, confused but happy you were laughing and not crying. "I needed that. And you're right, it was some fucked up shit."

Joel chuckled and took a sip from his coffee. He heard his phone ring so he pulled it out of his pocket and glanced at the screen before silencing the call and putting his phone away.

"You can take it," you said, wiping a stray tear from your eye and jutting your chin towards his phone.

"Just my brother. I'll call him back later."

"Ah, the infamous brother that made you go to group?"

"The very same."

"Younger or older?"

"Younger, but the way he bosses me 'round you'd never know it," Joel said with a grin.

"He's probably just looking out for you."

"He knows I'm feelin' especially lonely without Sarah. Sarah's my daughter, by the way," he said, pulling his phone out and showing you his lock screen: it was a selfie of him and Sarah on the beach, Joel looked red as a lobster and Sarah's hair looked tangled from the wind but there was no denying the happiness in both their eyes.

"She's beautiful," you said warmly. He smiled and put his phone away.

"Got that from her mama."

"I don't know, I see a little bit of you in her smile," you teased, bumping up against his shoulder playfully. He rolled his eyes but didn't argue.

"What I'm tryin' to say is, I can relate a bit to what you're goin' through. Y'know, losin' a partner and feelin' like you got no one left," he said. You took a deep breath.

"Yeah, sounds like you do."

Joel nervously picked at his jeans, trying to figure out the right way to say what he wanted to say without sounding like an old creep, but before he could open his mouth, you spoke first.

"Maybe we can hang out together and keep each other company?" you offered. He turned his head and grinned.

"I was 'bout to suggest the same thing."

"Really?" you asked, looking as relieved as he felt. He nodded.

"Sounds like we both could use a friend."

Something in your expression shifted. It was too quick. He couldn't pinpoint it but whatever it was disappeared, leaving behind a genuine smile.

"I would really like that, Joel."

"What the hell? You couldn't call me back yesterday?" Tommy scolded when he marched into the small, messy office the following morning. Joel glanced up from behind his desk; papers, a calculator and a pencil scattered about in front of him. He took his reading glasses off with a sigh, abandoning his work. He hated doing the administrative part of his job. He always preferred to be on site or meeting with clients.

"I was busy."

"Busy?" Tommy repeated before collapsing in the worn out chair across from him.

"Yeah, busy. I was... with a friend," Joel mumbled, trying to sound nonchalant but Tommy's ears perked up.

"A friend? Who?"

Joel shrugged. "Someone I met at that group you made me go to."

Tommy's eyes lit up. "Hey, that's great. See? I knew it'd be good for you. What's his name?"

Joel pursed his lips before softly saying your name and Tommy raised an eyebrow.

"A woman? That's even better, Joel."

"It ain't like that-"

"'Course not," Tommy said, "I'm just sayin' it's a step in the right direction."

"She's too young," Joel said defensively, giving Tommy pause.

"Okay..."

"We're just friends. She ain't from 'round here, ain't got anyone in Texas."

Tommy frowned as he watched Joel shift uncomfortably in his chair, wondering what made his brother get so sensitive, so he chose to tread lightly.

"So you're keepin' each other company. That's nice."

"Yeah," Joel said, standing up with a grunt and rubbing his lower back before he snatched his coat from the wall. "Ready to go?"

"Sure," Tommy said, standing to follow Joel out of the office. While he locked the door behind him, Tommy couldn't help but ask, "How young is too young?"

"Thirty-one," Joel replied, fishing the keys out of his pocket.

Tommy shrugged, falling in step next to his brother as they walked towards the parking lot. "Sounds like an adult to me," he muttered, but Joel chose to ignore it. "When are you seein' her again?"

"End of the week," Joel replied before climbing into the truck.

"Friday?"

"Yeah, after work. We were gonna order some dinner and look through some books she's tryin' to get rid of."

The corner of Tommy's mouth twitched. "So, like a date?"

"It ain't a date," Joel said firmly, his jaw set as he pulled out of the parking lot and began to drive in the direction of the first worksite. "She's mourin' the loss of her husband, it's not a date."

"Husband?" Tommy repeated, then Joel shook his head, growing flustered.

"Fiancé. Not husband."

"When did he pass?"

Joel thought back to what you told him the night you first met. "A year ago."

Tommy hummed and looked out the window, tapping his fingers against the car door in rhythm with the beat from the radio. Joel side eyed him while they sat in silence for a few minutes before he rolled his eyes and sighed. "What?" Joel asked with an edge to his voice.

"A year's a long time, is all."

"She's in grief therapy, Tommy. She's in pain and tryin' to come to terms with it. Quit makin' it sound like somethin' it ain't."

"Just 'cause she's in grief therapy don't mean she ain't ready to move on-"

"Goddamnit, this is the last time I tell you anythin'," Joel grumbled as he made a left hand turn. Tommy hid a smile behind his hand and looked out the window.

"Alright, no need to get all defensive on me now."

Joel opened his mouth to argue but quickly snapped it shut. The more he pushed back just gave Tommy more ammunition. Besides, he knew the truth. You were looking for a friend, someone who could relate to what you were going through. There was absolutely no way you were interested in a man twenty years older than you. The thought was so absurd it almost made him laugh. You were young and beautiful and charming and you had your whole life ahead of you.

No, surely Tommy was wrong.

When Joel pulled up to your house, his eight year old truck the noisiest thing on the whole block, he let out a low whistle and threw it into park, deciding at the last second to keep his car on the street for fear of leaving an oil stain or something on your pristine concrete driveway. He sat in his truck for a moment, taking in the monumental Victorian house before him. He recognized it from his youth, but back then the siding was chipped and the windows were foggy, in desperate need of replacing. He always admired houses like yours and part of his heart broke whenever he saw one fall into such a state of disrepair that it was beyond saving, but not yours. No, at some point in the past ten years, the house was upgraded but managed to maintain the original charm.

There was fresh siding and new windows installed, the insides framed in what looked like delicate lace curtains, complimenting the style of the house. The roof looked like it had been replaced and the front door looked new, but the original architecture remained. He could easily tell whoever bought the house took great care with it, and the contractor in him breathed a sigh of relief that it didn't fall into the wrong hands, or god forbid, a flipper.

When he walked up your driveway towards the small stone path that led to your front door, he slowed to look at the garden that flourished in front of the wraparound porch. It was a beautiful mix of wildflowers and hedges, and while wildflowers had a tendency to look messy and unkept, you somehow managed to make it look neat and well put together. Fat, fuzzy bumblebees bounced drunkenly from flower to flower and as he climbed the wooden steps, a hummingbird buzzed past his ear, spooked by his presence.

He pressed the button to your doorbell, noting you chose not to install one of those camera doorbells and for some reason, that bothered him. Normally he wasn't a huge fan of technology, but you were all alone in this big house. You needed to be safe, to be careful. Your house was in a nice neighborhood, but that didn't necessarily mean anything.

The door swung open and you greeted him barefoot with a warm smile before stepping aside to let him in. You were wearing a loose tshirt that hung off one shoulder and he chastised himself when his eyes traveled down your tight fitting jeans to your ass as he followed you into your home.

He shrugged his reaction off to just typical male instinct and forced his focus onto the lovely foyer surrounding him as he slid off his boots. Polished cherry wainscoting lined the walls and his eyes widened when he noticed the small tiles in the shape of little octagons below his feet.

"Is this original?" he asked you in disbelief as he pointed to the ground. Your gaze followed his finger and you nodded.

"We tried to keep everything original, if we could," you explained.

"Wow," he breathed as he stepped forward into the hallway, his eyes unable to keep up with how fast his brain was operating. His gaze slid over the original hardwood floors of the hallway, fresh wallpaper, and wide, polished staircase with a plush carpet installed in the center of the steps. Much to his delight, you chose to furnish the house to match the style, as well. Antique fixtures hung from the ceiling and a real wood table was pushed against the wall. A small lamp sat on top with a stained glass Tiffany shade, and next to it was a pile of mail and a framed photograph he tried not to examine too closely out of respect.

"This way," you said over your shoulder, and he followed you blindly deeper into the house. You pushed open a swinging door that led into your kitchen, and for the first time since arriving, his nose was the first of his senses to respond instead of his eyes.

It smelled absolutely heavenly. He had no idea what you were cooking but his mouth instantly watered at the smell of garlic and salt and some kind of meat.

He swallowed and hoped his stomach wouldn't growl and embarrass him.

"Thought we were gonna order somethin'?" he asked as he watched you hurry over to the stove to stir something.

"Oh, I hope you don't mind, but I felt like cooking," you replied without looking. He glanced around the room, noticing you chose to update the counters and cabinets to look more modern, but kept the original flooring.

"Mind? Are you kiddin' me? Haven't had anythin' decent to eat since Sarah left for college."

Memories of fast food drive thrus and frozen dinners flashed before his eyes as he watched you turn off the burners on the stove. You opened a cupboard and stretched on your tiptoes to reach a bowl, the hem of your shirt riding up ever so slightly and revealing a small sliver of skin on your back and suddenly, his mouth was watering for an entirely different reason.

Stop it.

"Need some help?" he offered, and you fell back onto the flats of your feet, shooting him a nod and smile. He didn't mean to, but he reached up from behind you for the serving bowl, his front brushing gently against your back, and your shoulders tensed. Shit.

"Sorry, here ya go," he said, handing you the bowl and immediately giving you some space, not catching the glimmer of disappointment in your eyes.

"Thank you," you murmured shyly. He watched you spoon vegetables into the bowl for a moment, grabbing random jars of seasoning and sprinkling them on top before stirring it up, and he finally remembered his manners.

"Can I help?"

"No, no, I got it," you insisted, waving him toward a door on the other side of the kitchen. "Go sit down, I'll be right out."

He wandered over to the propped open door and entered your dining room. Pausing for a moment, he admired the chandelier above the table that looked old but the brass had been polished and the crystals cleaned. The drop ceiling was even remarkable: squares of textured patterns that repeated across the whole room, adding a whole other layer of elegance to the already impressive first floor. His eyes drifted to the dark wood table, where two spots were already set across from each other. He pulled out a chair and sat down, shifting his weight a bit and noting the chairs must have been recently reupholstered based on how firm the cushion was underneath him. You breezed in after him, hardly giving him enough time to take in the elaborate fireplace and mantle at the end of the room, and began to set down plates of food. His eyes bugged out of his head when he saw fresh, fried chicken and whipped mashed potatoes.

"You didn't have to go through all the trouble," he assured you, but you smirked at the way he stared at the chicken, the aroma from the breading overpowering his senses.

"It wasn't any trouble, I like to cook," you replied, disappearing into the kitchen to grab the vegetables and a basket of fresh rolls before finally joining him at the table.

Joel spread the cloth napkin over his lap, using every ounce of self control to stop himself from devouring everything in sight. He glanced up at you and you grinned.

"Go ahead, help yourself."

You watched with a small smile on your face as he loaded up his plate, then played with your own food until he took his first bite of chicken. He froze, his mouth full, and stared at you in awe before he dropped the chicken leg on his plate and leaned back, a deep, appreciative moan rumbling from his chest, making your thighs squeeze together under the table.

"Goddamn," he said once he swallowed. "That's the best fried chicken I've ever had in my entire life, darlin'."

You giggled and finally took a dainty bite of your own before nodding in agreement. "It's not bad."

Joel scoffed and took another bite. "Don't sell yourself short, now. I know what I'm talkin' 'bout. What'd you put in this?"

He listened, completely enraptured, as you explained how you soaked the chicken in buttermilk the day before and all of the seasonings you used in the breading.

"Oh! I almost forgot the lemonade," you said, standing back up and rushing into the kitchen, returning with two cold glasses and setting them down on the placemats. He nodded his thanks, mouth still full, and you giggled again.

You were already planning on packing up all the leftovers so he could take it home, but you still encouraged him to have as much as he wanted while it was warm and fresh.

"Did you make the rolls, too?" he asked after he took a bite.

You laughed and shook your head. "No, I'm not that good. I bought them this morning from a local bakery I like around the corner."

You had finished your meal long before he did, watching with your chin in your palm as he went back for seconds, reveling in the noises and compliments he made with practically each bite.

"Here, have some more," you told him, nudging the plate of chicken in his direction, but he leaned back in the chair and shook his head. "I can't, but everythin' was delicious. Thank you."

"You're welcome. I'm thrilled to cook for someone again," you replied with a sad smile before standing up and picking up your plate. He immediately stood and began to collect the rest, but you waved him back down.

"Sit, sit, I still have dessert," you told him, and based on the way he looked at you in that moment you would have put money down that he could be knocked over with a feather.

"Oh, darlin', you did too much," he replied, immediately flooding with guilt that he didn't even bring wine or flowers.

"Stop! I told you, I like doing it and I never get a chance to anymore, so please, sit down and I'll be right back."

Begrudgingly, he did as he was told and, while listening to you in the kitchen, peered out the back window at the meticulously kept grounds. Your house, like you, was absolutely beautiful. It felt like stumbling across an oasis in the middle of the desert.

You reappeared in the dining room with a bowl of diced, sugared strawberries and a plate of warm biscuits. He watched in stunned silence as you fixed him a plate, spooning the strawberries on top of a fresh shortcake, but told him to wait a moment before hurrying back into the kitchen and returning with a small bowl of homemade whipped cream.

Joel thought he died and went to heaven.

He could tell you didn't want to hear him complain that it was too much, so instead he lavished your baking with praise and thanks, both of which seemed to make your eyes shine bright and your lips remain curled into a smile the whole time.

"You're taking the leftovers home, too," you warned him once you finally allowed him to help bring things back into the kitchen. You were packing everything up nice and neat in matching Tupperware containers and stacking everything into a paper bag. As much as he wanted to decline, he really wanted your leftovers more, so he continued to thank you as he began to wash the dishes in your farmhouse sink. You had tried to fight him on it, but he finally wore you down and won. Stubborn little thing, he thought.

After dinner was cleaned up, you led him back down the hall and up the wide staircase, explaining that the books were all housed in a den at the top of the stairs, but when you opened the door to the room, den seemed like too small a word for it.

It was gorgeous, plain and simple. The cherry wainscoting continued in this room with a dark green wallpaper to accent the wood. All along the wall were antique sconces lighting up floor to ceiling bookcases stuffed full of literature. On the back wall was a large, heavy looking desk with a wingback velvet chair. The desk itself had books and papers scattered about, as if someone were in the middle of something and was rudely interrupted, but based on the layer of dust, he had to imagine nobody had sat there in some time.

And then it hit him: this was your fiancé's office.

A laptop sat open and turned off on the corner of the desk, along with a dusty printer behind the chair on the carpeted floor. He noticed what had to have been manuscripts of some kind based on the lack of coverings on the bound papers piling up next to the printer.

He was an author. This is where he worked.

That was when Joel realized you had been suspiciously quiet. He turned towards you, his eyes scanning your face, studying it. Your arms were wrapped around your middle as you stared blankly at the desk.

"We don't gotta do this today," he said softly, snapping you out of your reverie.

"No, it's okay," you replied, your voice so small it nearly broke his heart. You turned and walked toward the corner of the room, opposite the desk, where a small couch and coffee table sat. A few cardboard boxes were stacked nearby, two of which remained unopened, one recklessly torn into. You started with that one.

"Here," you said, pulling out a few books and handing them out. He stepped forward and took them, looking down at the covers and the beautiful artwork that adorned them. "These are the first trilogy, you should probably read them first before the next. They're different stories but they inevitably weave together so it'll make more sense if you-" you paused, your voice getting caught in your throat, and that's when he realized you had been fighting back tears.

"Hey, it's okay," he told you gently, putting the books down on the coffee table and carefully touching your shoulder, urging you to sit on the couch. After a moment's hesitation, you did, and he sat beside you. "This was too fast. I'll leave these here and maybe one day, when you're feelin' up to it, we can try again."

You looked up at him, eyes watering, and shook your head.

"No, take these now. I have more, I have tons, actually," you said, nodding towards the unopened boxes. "I just haven't come in here since he died and I didn't think it would be this hard." You wiped furiously at your cheeks, trying to hide your anguish.

Joel's heart thundered in his chest. He rubbed your back, trying to offer you a glimmer of comfort while he glanced around the room. "Maybe it was too soon," he offered again.

"No, it's been a year, Joel. I needed to do this." You took a deep breath and gave him a shaky smile. "Thank you. I know this is probably more than you expected-"

"Nah, hey, none of that, now," he cooed, mindlessly petting your hair. "If you needed someone to be here for this, I'm glad you picked me, okay?"

You sniffled and nodded, quietly thanking him again before taking another deep breath and exhaling with a nervous laugh as you looked around the room with him.

"Can I ask you something?"

"'Course," he replied.

"How long did it take for you to move on after your wife passed?"

He chewed the inside of his cheek as he thought about it, his fingers still playing with the ends of your soft hair as he slowly rubbed your back. "Well, hard to say. She was sick for a long time so I think I had time to come to terms with it before she died, y'know?" You nodded and listened to him, hanging on his every word and inadvertently leaning into his gentle touch. "Then I had Sarah to worry 'bout and, I don't know, time just... passed me by." He chuckled dryly for a moment before continuing. "My brother thinks I never got over it, Sarah thinks I never processed it, but they only think that 'cause I never dated anyone else."

Your eyes widened in surprise at his confession.

"Never?"

He shook his head and gave you a lopsided grin. "Been busy, I guess."

"But aren't you... lonely?"

He sucked in a sharp breath and cast his gaze to the floor. How did you manage to see right through him so quickly? Was it the common ground or something else?

"Wasn't too bad til Sarah left," he admitted, "but now... yeah. Yeah, it's lonely."

You scanned his face, watching the flicker of sadness in his eyes he tried to hide from you, and you inched a bit closer.

"I'm glad we found each other, Joel," you whispered. His eyes found yours again and he smiled.

"Me, too, sweetheart."

Then, without giving it another thought, you leaned forward and pressed a kiss against his lips. It was so tender and soft it felt like he was on the bus in fifth grade and Christine Murphy was giving him his fist kiss all over again while kids in nearby seats teased them with sing-song voices.

You pulled back and looked into his eyes, searching for any hesitation but all you must have seen was confusion because you leaned forward again, kissing him with a little more emotion, your small hand coming up to cup his greying, prickly jaw. You tasted like strawberries and lemonade and you smelled like vanilla and it was making every neuron in his brain fire all at the same time, to the point where his body had no idea what to do but remain frozen.

It was when your tongue first slipped past your lips and flicked nervously over the seam of his mouth that he finally came crashing down to earth. He sat back, breaking the kiss and holding you by the shoulders, staring deeply into your eyes. You were both panting slightly, probably from the excitement and adrenaline, as he tried to figure out what to say, what to do. You were in a fragile state, he decided. You made a mistake, the moment got away from you both and it didn't mean anything. It couldn't mean anything. You were too young and sweet and beautiful. You didn't really want anything to do with an old man like him. He just happened to be there when you were vulnerable and that was all.

The words never came. He couldn't form a coherent sentence. As the seconds dragged on, your face began to fall and embarrassment flooded your chest, the atmosphere in the room suddenly so thick that it was difficult to breathe. You cleared your throat and leaned back, his hands falling from your shoulders, and then you were the first to speak.

"Oh, no."

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[menagerofmischief]

shrimp cocktail, cold appetizer, lobster, coca-cola, yes dessert, served by oscar piastri

Dia's Diner Menu

shrimp cocktail rivals to lovers cold appetizer rough sex lobster "I love watching my cum leak out of your pussy" coca-cola somnophillia dessert aftercare

Oscar Piastri x Ferrari!driver!reader

TW: one bed trope, unprotected sex (wrap you willy please), sleep dry humping

WC: 2k

A/N: I enjoyed writing this one a lot. Also I wanted to say I'm so thankful to all of you that sent requests and that I can't wait to write all of them but you'll maybe have to be patient with me because I'm a student and am pretty busy with school. I hope y'all are gonna enjoy this one.

Some bigger force, God or karma or fate or whatever else there is, was definitely out to get me. Because this had to be the worst fucking night of my life. I’m not being dramatic when I say that.

Why was this the worst night of my life?

We just made it to Singapore for the upcoming Grand Prix and went straight to our hotel. The whole grid was staying at the same place since it made things more convenient. I go up to the reception to check in and get the key to my room, all but ready to collapse into the mattress and sleep the jet lag off. 

“I’m so sorry Miss,” the receptionist says, tapping her fingers against the keyboard, glancing up at me every few seconds. Finally she looks up, her expression apologetic. “It seems there was a mistake with the booking and we double booked your room.”

I fight off the urge to groan and roll my eyes, instead plastering a smile on my face. “It’s fine, it’s not that big of a deal. Just put me in whatever room is available.”

She makes a face, looking down at the computer again and then returning her gaze to mine. “I really am sorry but there are no other rooms available right now.”

Now I really did groan. “Fantastic. Can I know who the other person occupying the room will be?”

Before the receptionist had the chance to answer, my worst nightmare in human form came up to the desk, standing right next to me. “Hello. I’m here to check in - it’s under Oscar Piastri.”

The woman - I finally glanced at her name tag, seeing her name was Alice - looked between us, then down at the computer before looking at us again. “Sir, as I was just explaining to the lady here, the hotel double booked your room by accident.”

“It’s fine just put me in a -”

“There’s no available rooms.” I cut him off. “Just the one.”

Oscar looked at me, narrowing his eyes. McLaren’s golden boy, affectionately nicknamed ‘the polite cat’ by the fans was the biggest thorn in my side for a long while now. Everything started back in F2 with our on track rivalry which grew with each race. Then I signed into F1, fulfilling my childhood dreams of racing in red and thought I escaped him. I thought too soon apparently because after my announcement post, his followed soon and I was once again back on track with him.

Did I have a reason to hate him? Absolutely! Was it awfully petty and possibly over-dramatic? Very likely. It was my first race in F2, I was about to finish P2 it was amazing. Then he crashed into me and drove us both into the wall, causing us both to DNF and lose out on a podium.

We have hated each other ever since.

“It’s okay - we’ll share.” Oscar’s voice brought me out of my thoughts, quickly turning my head to look at him.

“What!?”

Oscar took the key from Alice and dangled it in front of me, a smirk on his face. “I said we’re gonna be bunking.” He pulled the handle of his suitcase, “Come on then, Y/n”

✿ ✿ ✿

“You stay on your side of the room,” I said, putting the chair in the middle of the room to make it a half marker. “And I’ll stay on mine.” The one queen size bed would definitely be a problem as well, but one I would mention later.

“And how are you gonna go the bathroom since it’s on my side?” He asked, his voice holding a teasing tone.

“Bathroom if free ground, hallway too” I stated, crossing my arms over my chest.

Oscar’s gaze dropped down, stayed for a few seconds and then his eyes met mine again. He hummed, “And if I wanna open the window then what? Since it’s on your side.”

“Don’t act smart,” I told him. “It doesn’t suit you.”

“You wound me!” He gasped, pressing a hand over his heart.

“Shame it’s not fatal.”

✿ ✿ ✿

This was definitely the weirdest night of my life.

With only one bed in the room, no couch and neither of us willing to put our body in uncomfortable positions sleeping on the chair or on the floor, night before practice - Oscar and I made an agreement to share the bed.

One of the extra blankets from the closet was bunched up and put down the middle of the bed separating the two us. Not that it served much purpose considering that it was kicked down and off the bed while we were sleeping.

I woke up, rubbing my eyes to adjust to the dark and then I felt it. The slow, yet desperately feral rolls, the pressure and the pleasure. I had to press a hand against my mouth to stop myself from moaning, taking in deep harsh breaths through my nose.

I came to a realization about three things, so goes:

Oscar had moved a bigger part of his body onto my side of the bed.

He had pulled me close and caged me in his arms sometimes during the night.

He was grinding his very much hard cock into me -  in his sleep.

My cheeks were on fire and it felt like the rest of my body was too. The pajamas, which I purposely picked out because of how light they were, felt suffocating now.

I didn’t even realize what I was doing until it was done, my body moving on its own. One leg pushing slightly forward, opening just enough space for Oscar’s hips to chase mine and my ass slowly barely grinding back into him.

I was enjoying this much more than I should have and it was wrong. God, it was so wrong. But when his erection was rubbing so perfectly against me, I couldn’t bring myself to care.

I was wet, I knew I was. I could feel how soaked my panties had gotten and the uncomfortable feel of my slick underwear did not escape me. As the pressure increased I couldn’t help but let out a moan.

The noise felt deafening in the silent room and my eyes widened. Oscar’s body stilled and my breath caught in my throat, the dread of having woken him with my moans taking over me.

A moment passed, two moments passed. Then Oscar’s hands tightened around my body, pulling me even closer to him, my ass pressed just against the outline of his dick. One of his hands moved down my stomach, dipping into the waistband of my sleeping shorts and going straight down into my panties.

He ran a finger through my folds, coating it in my slick and it took everything in me not to moan. “You’re fucking dripping,” his voice in my ear made me freeze. Awake afterall. “This wet from me humping you? And here I thought you hated me.”

The pad of his finger touched my clit, a gasp falling from my lips at the pleasurable feeling. “Did you enjoy me rutting into you while I was sleeping, you dirty dirty girl?” He added more pressure, rubbing circles on my clit and this time I didn’t hold my moans back. “Woke up halfway through, when you started grinding your ass on me like a bitch in heat. You seemed so into it, I thought I’d just keep going.”

“Wasn’t,” I whispered.

“What was that?” He growled into my ear.

“Wasn’t grinding on you,” I said, through gritted teeth.

His fingers pinched my clit and my whole body surged forward, mouth falling open to let out a loud moan. “Don’t lie,” he said, the tone of his voice leaving no room for argument.

“Fuck you.”

“Oh don’t worry sweetheart, you will.”

Oscar pulled his fingers out of my panties, making me whine at the loss of friction on my clit. His chuckle vibrated through the room. He got up onto his knees on the bed, arms coming forward to grab my shoulders, and pulled me roughly so I was laying on my back.

I couldn’t help but look at him above me. His eyes were full of lust, pupils blown wide and cheeks red. As much as I didn’t want to admit it to myself, he looked absolutely ethereal. 

“Tell me to stop,” he said, fingers hooking into the waistband of my sleeping shorts.

I held his gaze, a shaky breath falling from my mouth. “Don’t stop.”

In one move he pulled down both my shorts and my panties, throwing them behind him without a care. Then he took off his own shorts, followed by his boxers - that ended up being thrown somewhere too. He pulled me up enough to take my top off, and then pushed me down again, leaving me completely bare. 

Oscar leaned over me, his mouth drawn in a smirk, his breath hot on my face. “Tell me not to kiss you.”

“Kiss me,” I whispered. He didn’t waste a second, as soon as the words were out of my mouth he was surging forward, his lips pressing harshly against mine, tongue pushing into my mouth. He pulled slightly back, my lip caught before his teeth and he gently bit down, making me whine into his mouth.

“Fuck me,” I panted into his mouth. “Please just -”

I didn’t get to finish what I was saying as he pushed himself into me fully in one go, making me scream. His hand pressed against my mouth, muffling the noises I was making. “Do you want to wake the whole hotel up?” He asked as he began thrusting, pulling himself out until only the tic was still in me and then forcefully pushing back in again. “Some people came here to sleep, not to listen to you moaning like a whore on my cock.”

His other hand went between us to rub my clit. I was practically sobbing as he worked his fingers in fast circles around my clit while roughly thrusting into me. My vision was blurred with tears that were spilling from the corners on my eyes.

Oscar’s hand moved only a little, leaving room for me to speak but close enough for my lips to brush against his palm with each word. “Cum,” I babbled. “Gonna cum! Oscar, please!”

“Yeah?” He asked, his voice hoarse. “Gonna cum for me like a good little slut? Go on then - cum”

I came with a moan, wrapping my legs around his waist and caging him in. Oscar fucked me trough my orgasm, his own following. He twitched inside of me before cumming, painting my walls and making me whine at how full I felt.

He pulled out of me slowly and went to the bathroom to clean himself up. After a moment he returned with a wet, probably warm, towel in his hands. He kneeled on the bed and gently spread my legs with his hands.

“Fuck,” Oscar groaned. “I love watching my cum leak out of your pussy.” His fingers dipped to collect some of his cum which had spilled out of me and was slowly dripping towards my ass, and pushed it back into me, causing me to gasp.

He leaned forward and placed a kiss on my forehead and somehow my cheeks burned ever hotter. After he gently cleaned me up and terrorized me to drink water, he laid down in bed next to me and pulled my body into his, arms wrapping around me.

“Are you finally going to let me take you out to dinner?” He asked, his voice husky and breath hot against the side of my face.

I hummed, my eyes barely open and already feeling sleepy. “Don’t crash into me while I’m winning on Sunday and we’ll see.”

“That was one time!”

I chuckled, placing my hands over his hand on my stomach. “Yeah, I’ll let you take me out to dinner.”

Believe it or not this might have actually turned out to be one of the best nights of my life.

[shadowgamed]

"What...!?"

There's no control in Seto's reaction, none of the restraint he prides himself on so much. As soon as he realized what Ishizu is talking about, there was never going to be a way for him to stay calm... because this, without a doubt, is-

"Ridiculous!! That's absurd." he insists, furious. He throws an arm out in anger, fists clenched and not caring at all if he's making a scene. A woman who received a vision? Of a man, and a dragon... with blue eyes...? The resemblance to Seto's own vision is undeniable, so much so that it's laughable. But that's impossible! What he saw was just a hallucination brought on by stress and the influence of Yugi's words - there's no way someone else could've seen the same thing, because he never told anyone about it...!!

"You can't expect me to believe a word you're saying, can you? Don't think you can play around with me so easily!"

And as he yells, for some reason, Seto's heart is thundering in his chest, making him so angry he feels like he's going to be sick. He's sure, too - he's sure that Ishizu is trying to take advantage of his weakness. No matter how much he rationalizes what he experienced in Battle City, Seto has never been truly able to rid himself of the dread and doubts that come with those memories... so to have Ishizu try to manipulate him through those feelings is- unforgivable, and more than that-

It scares him. He'd never admit it, but it's the truth. And to Seto, the very fact that anyone is capable of scaring him... is something he hates more than anything else.

Ishizu hasn't even spoken a word yet, and he's already being rude. Not that the women expected anything less from Seto Kaiba. She is well aware of the disdain he has for her, a feeling she somewhat returns for his blatant disregard for his ancient heritage and his stubbornness when it comes to putting his own ego aside. He was frustrating, to put it mildly.

She didn't come all the way from Egypt to him without purpose, though. Ishizu was a busy woman. Her position as a government official meant she could not travel as freely as she would like to. That meant every time she took off of work had to be worth it, and with what she came here to try and accomplish, she certainly felt like it was. At least...if things turned out as the official had hoped, for one could not predict the flow of fate of the duelist before her, something she had learned firsthand since their duel on the blimp.

"I require your assistance with a simple matter, one I imagine won't take much of your time and might possibly peak your interest." She pauses, her cerulean hues staring into the bright blues of the CEO. "There is someone I'd like to introduce you to, someone who sought me out shortly following the conclusion of your tournament, Seto. She spoke of seeing a strange vision during our duel's conclusion, despite not even spectating our match through the live feed.

If her theory regarding how he changed his fate was true, then such a claim should get his attention. If that failed, then her description surely should."According to her, the vision that depicted...herself, a man, and...a stone carving of a dragon she has claimed to have seen before in dreams: a white beast with...blue eyes."

[evangelical04]

A Single Daffodil || 5

Summary: Getting arranged to be married to your long-time crush wasn't exactly the fairy tale romance you were hoping for. Nor is the dynamic of the marriage, with your husband treating you like you don't exist. But you're going to make this work, whether he cares about you or not. And he definitely doesn't...right?

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader

Rating: 18+ minors DNI

Genre: angst, romance, unrequited love, smut, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage au, businessman yoongi

Warnings: parental trauma, sibling trauma, toxic parents, unrequited love, explicit language, alcohol usage, yoongi's kind of mean, slight smut in this chapter but not really

Author's Note: hi everyone! sorry it took so long to get this out, but I literally (finally) got my car back yesterday and wrote almost this entire thing today lol. thank you guys so much for being so patient with me, I really appreciate it. I'm hoping to get the next part out super soon but I hope this is good for you guys for now!! as always, please let me know what you guys think, I love to hear your feedback

TAGLIST CLOSED

@yoongisducky @kam9404 @sumzysworld @tarahardcore @viankiss @babystarcandylovejk @ktownshizzle @futuristicenemychaos @igot7fairlyoddparents @baechugff @pb89nv @peachytokki @ratherbfangirling @themwordsblog @daises-and-dandelionpuffs @kimmalik @honeyypages @captainchrisstan @khaimahfe @yoongibaybee @kooklovee @whoa-jo @familiarlikemymirror3 @blueberriesm @llallaaa @weareatthebadlands @purpleheartsandarock1 @lillmeomeowsblog @this-most-assuredly-counts @kayleefriedchicken @ur-grandmum @praetae @sylviamuela @notarshia @minghaosimp @wobblewobble822 @ilikekpop-c @maynina @rinkud @jesshujk @kimsaerom @suker4angst @mar-627 @maynina @pitchblack0309

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The night had given your frustration towards Yoongi some time to deflate, but you still felt it bubbling deep inside your consciousness. You weren’t one to hold a grudge necessarily, not outright at least, but you would never forget either. Joohee said that made you even more dangerous, but you liked to think it made you amicable. The next morning brought you to a lazy Sunday where you had initially wanted to bum around in your bed but the small items scattered around your floor reminded you of the tasks you had yet to finish. 

Your morning was spent tinkering with your console and Blu-Ray player to get them to connect properly with your TV and the wifi, and while you struggled, you refused to ask Yoongi for help. It was a bad habit of yours, avoiding those you were mad at or were mad at you. It certainly hadn’t worked with your mother, but then again, she’d barely been home to avoid in the first place. 

Thoughts of Yoongi swirled around in your head as you finished cleaning up your room and organizing everything. His behavior last night still stumped you. Logically, the only explanation was that he was jealous. Whether it was of Namjoon or you, you weren’t sure. You were too scared to entertain the thought that he might be jealous of Namjoon, the way your heart sped up was dangerous. Even if it was the correct explanation, could you even allow yourself to hope like that?

You fell backward onto your bed in a huff, it was safer to think he was just angry at you and Namjoon for getting close because it was “mixing personal lives”. Any other reasoning was going to send you down a spiral of confusion, want, and optimism. Just as you resigned yourself to a well-deserved midday nap, your phone buzzed on the bedside table next to you. Groaning out, you reached around for your phone, eventually finding it and seeing Hoseok’s contact blaring on the screen. 

You swiped to answer the call, throwing the phone down next to you on speaker, “What?”

“Geez, don’t you sound grumpy.”

“It’s because I am.”

“Well, okay then, live your life, I guess. Anyway, guess what happened,” Hoseok responded excitedly.

“What?”

“The guy my old boss recommended said yes! We’re gonna start looking at studio spaces together, I’m opening up a dance school!”

You sat up, taking the phone off speaker and bringing it to your ear, “Hobi, that’s great! I can’t believe that, I’m so excited for you!”

“I can’t believe this is finally happening! It feels like this has been in the making since college,” Hoseok exclaimed, you could hear him pacing around in his room through the phone. 

“You deserve it so much, Hobi, I’m so happy for you,” you smiled, and you did mean it. You knew how hard Hoseok had worked through college, surviving on a scholarship and battling down criticisms for choosing a dance major. There wasn’t a doubt in your mind that he would succeed and you were happy to watch him do just that. 

“Do you want to meet him? We’re having dinner together tomorrow and I wanted you and Joohee to be there.”

“Of course I will, I’ll need to see you guys to prep for going back to work next week anyway. Just text me the details and I’ll be there,” you responded, picking at the seams of your comforter at the mention of you resuming your job. 

“Will do,” Hoseok responded excitedly and hung up after a quick goodbye. 

It wasn’t that you didn’t like your work, far from it in fact, but it was the questions that would inevitably come with your return that you dreaded. The glittering ring on your finger would fuel the rumor mill and lead to empty celebrations and congratulations, not to mention questions surrounding your mysterious husband. 

Song Ha would probably be the only one not asking much about the wedding, but only because she attended. You hadn’t been able to talk with her during the reception, too overwhelmed and swept up in the flurry of high-profile guests. You certainly felt guilty for not having been able to see her but you knew she would understand, she was sweet that way. 

No, Song Ha was dangerous in the fact that she had seen Yoongi, and she would be ready with a list of questions to ask you when you stepped into the office the following week. Once Song Ha started the questions about Yoongi, the others would only join in, adding to the pressure you felt to appear like a normal, happy bride. 

Abruptly, you stood up. Now wasn’t the time for sulking and self-pity. Determined, you stomped towards the door, ready to fling it open and face Yoongi with your head held high. But as you reached the handle, your fingers curling around the edge, ready to rip it open, you hesitated. 

Facing Yoongi sounded even more draining right now, the idea of his upturned frown staring down at you was less than appealing. His hot and cold attitude was taxing and you were tired of trying to understand his actions. 

Coming up with explanations for his bizarre attitude and trying to make sense of his lingering gazes was less than appealing to your exhausted mind. But, you reminded yourself, this was technically your space too and you couldn’t just stay in your room the whole time. Besides, you wanted a snack and why should Yoongi stop you? 

Shaking your head, you steeled your resolve and opened your door. You couldn’t hear anything coming from the living room or kitchen so you continued your venture down the stairs. Yoongi was nowhere in sight and you silently celebrated, at least you wouldn’t have to worry about him right now. 

You reached the kitchen, rifling around for some chips before settling on a small packet you found tucked away in the cupboard. As you began making your way back to your room to enjoy your snack, the front door opened and Yoongi entered, running a hand through messy black hair.

“Oh, Y/N, you’re awake,” he said, stopping at the couch once he saw you. 

You nodded curtly, “Yes, good afternoon.” You had been so close to going without dealing with him but it seemed like the universe had different plans in mind for you. It felt a little mean to be so blunt with him but seeing his stupid, perfectly shaped face ignited the remaining rage you had left in you from the previous night. Even though it was a new day, all you could think about was how he’d treated you like some child that needed to be looked after. It made your fist clench around the chips bag, the crinkling noise sounding much louder in the quiet living room. 

When you continued your trek toward the stairs, Yoongi called out for you. 

“Y/N,” he said, slightly louder than his normal volume, “Can we talk for a second, please?”

You turned to face him, silently waiting for him to continue. What could he possibly have to say?

“I’m sorry about last night,” he started, surprising you, “I was thinking about it when we got home and the way I’ve been acting has been unacceptable and I’m sorry that I treated you unfairly.”

You felt your eyes widen at his apology and you stuttered a response, “O-oh, it’s fine, really.” A habit of yours, to dismiss any apology that comes your way, to pretend like you were unbothered.

Yoongi shook his head, “It’s not. I was getting confused and treating this,” he gestured between you, “Like something it’s not, I’m sure that was annoying at the least for you. I’ll be sure to maintain a proper distance from hereon out, I don’t want to meddle in your life.”

You blinked back, confused by his statement, “What do you mean?”

“I mean that I was acting like a husband when we’d agreed to keep ourselves separate from each other. I had no right to get upset with you or to treat you like a kid, and I’m sorry.”

“Um, okay,” you stammered, “I’m just going to go up then.”

Yoongi nodded, turning away and walking into his office. You walked up the stairs in an almost trance-like state, you had no idea what to make of that conversation. 

You should be happy that he apologized but why did it seem like the outcome wasn’t what you wanted? He said he’d maintain some distance between you two from now on, that isn’t what you wanted. Or wasn’t it? 

Throwing the bag of chips on your bedside table, you collapsed onto your duvet, you didn’t know what you wanted! You knew you wanted Yoongi to apologize but you didn’t want him to push you further away. You wanted him to explain why he got upset, if you were reading into things too much, if he was starting to feel something for you. You wanted him to be clear, and that conversation was anything but. 

I was getting confused and treating this like something it’s not.

What did that mean? What did he mean he was getting confused? You were supposed to be the confused one. 

Chips now long forgotten, you flipped over in your bed and reached for your phone, opting to occupy your brain with mindless scrolling rather than try to make sense of Yoongi’s words. 

Despite how much you tried to distract yourself, the conversation with Yoongi still swirled around in your mind like a rampant tornado, hitting the corners of your brain and disrupting your every thought. You hadn’t managed to figure anything else out, you’d only been able to work yourself into a frenzy and feel even more confused. 

Glancing at your watch, you noted that only a few hours had passed and it was around time for dinner, but you didn’t want to risk seeing Yoongi and spiraling once more, not that you had clawed your away out of your current spiral either.

Instead, you opted to skip dinner for tonight, not feeling particularly hungry anyway, and tried to pass the time until you felt drowsiness kick in. Your method of choice was just playing a relaxing game in your bed until your eyelids felt heavy and you drifted off in a rather uncomfortable position for your neck. You didn’t even notice yourself falling asleep, much less find the energy to fix your position to avoid a sore neck. 

That night you dreamt of yourself in a dark room with no visible walls and it almost felt cold but the sensation didn’t seem like it was coming from your surroundings, it felt like it was underneath your skin. 

You looked around frantically, for anything, and your eyes caught on a sliver of shiny black hair with slightly pale skin underneath. The figure reached out a hand for you and you tried to run toward it but found yourself unable to move. No matter how hard you pushed your legs, flailed, and grasped for the outstretched hand, it felt like there was an invisible wall preventing you from moving forward. In your struggle, you failed to notice the hand slowly retract and only realized once the figure started to move further and further away. You felt yourself shout after it but no sound escaped your throat.

Finally, you managed to break free from the invisible barrier and began running after the figure. Your limbs felt like lead and your lungs were struggling to take in air, but you persisted, chasing after the retreating figure and uselessly shouting for it to stop. Once it seemed like you were finally closing in on it, the ground beneath you disappeared and you fell into the dark chasm below, seeing the figure watching from the edge. 

It did not try to reach out a hand to grab you. 

The next morning had you feeling more grateful than ever that you still had another week off from work, although it was your last. You had awoken feeling drained and anxious, unable to remember your dream from the night prior. The only thing you did recall was falling, only because it made you wake with a start in bed at around three in the morning. You were tucked in nicely into your duvet then but it had become messy once your alarm went off later. You had set your alarm for later in the day than you usually did for work since you hadn’t wanted to get up early but also not sleep in too late. 

The clatter of pots and pans from the kitchen indicated Mrs. Lim’s presence and you sleepily got dressed and walked downstairs to greet her and get some tea. She neglected to comment on your haphazard appearance and instead presented you with an already-brewed cup of tea. Smiling gratefully at her, you took a seat at the counter and made quiet conversation. 

“Would you like anything in particular for dinner tonight,” Mrs. Lim asked.

“No, thank you, I’ll be meeting some friends for dinner.”

“Oh, how lovely. You should really invite them here, Mr. Min wouldn’t mind,” Mrs. Lim added cheerfully.

You held back a scoff, “Yes, well, I guess I’m still getting comfortable.”

Mrs. Lim smiled kindly, “Of course, dear, I’m sure all of this is difficult to get used to.”

You weren’t sure if she was just talking about Yoongi’s apartment, but you nodded in agreement nonetheless. 

“Oh, Mrs. Lim, could you actually prepare some samgyeopsal for dinner tonight? I think Yoongi is in desperate need of it,” you mentioned, recalling how tired he’d looked last night. 

Mrs. Lim only smiled knowingly, nodding gently before resuming her tasks. 

Your phone buzzed on the countertop, drawing your attention. 

To: Milf Club (est. 2014)

Joo-nie:

what’s the dress code for the restaurant tonight

do i have to break out my razor

Hoebi:

Uhhh the restaurant is kinda fancy so maybe?

Idrk tbh this dude said the place was good but it looked fancy lmao

You:

i’ll wear a dress joo, so you can too

Joo-nie:

ty queen

wear the little black one makes you look hot

Hoebi:

What should I wear to look hot

Joo-nie:

don’t show up

Hoebi:

Owie

You:

i’ll send a pic later when i get dressed

BUT it’s still minimal makeup 

you guys are gonna have to see my massive eyebags

Hoebi:

They’re your most charming quality <3

You:

damn that’s a low bar

Hoebi:

See you guys tonight!! Be there at 6, don’t be late!

That was aimed at you, Joo

Joo-nie:

rude

You smiled fondly at your friends’ messages before setting your phone down and turning your attention back to Mrs. Lim, asking how her weekend went. 

The rest of the day passed fairly quickly and Mrs. Lim soon went home after her responsibilities were completed. She had ended up shooing you out of her sight after you’d insisted on helping her out with the cleaning, citing boredom as the reason, but she was having none of it. You’d spent the rest of the afternoon lazing in your bed and feeling unproductive. 

It was difficult to relax properly while not working because you felt as though you should be doing something else, but you didn’t have anything to do. Part of you was excited to get back to work to occupy yourself but another part of you was concerned over how easily you fell into a depressive mood. It was just another reason to start looking into therapy. 

With nothing to entertain your mind with, your thoughts continuously shifted to Yoongi. You hadn’t seen him since that odd conversation where he promised to keep more distance between you, leaving you confused and lost. You still were. 

He felt impossible to read. Every time you thought you were about to figure it out, he threw a curveball at you and made you stumble on your path to a logical conclusion. The more you thought about his actions leading up to and at the gala, the more they seemed to point to jealousy. The problem was, you couldn’t figure out a plausible reason he would have to be jealous. Obviously, the overarching reason would be that he has feelings for you, but he didn’t have a reason to. The man hadn’t tried to get to know you at all, you’d barely had five conversations since the wedding. How could he possibly have feelings for you?

And Yoongi didn’t seem like the type to show possessiveness over someone he had shallow feelings for, nor did Yoongi seem like the type to develop shallow feelings. In your mind, he oscillated between someone who didn’t like commitment in any form to someone who wholly devoted himself to getting to know someone before developing feelings for them. However, it was impossible for you to come to a conclusion. Just like in your own reasoning for Yoongi’s feelings, you barely knew him and there was no way for you to make these judgments. 

What you would give to understand what’s going through his mind. 

By the time your alarm went off at five, you were still lost in your thoughts, mindlessly playing a farming sim, mainly because your wife in there was much easier to understand than Yoongi. The alarm startled you out of your stupor and jolted you into action, scrambling things together to get ready for Hoseok’s dinner. You had showered in the morning so your hair would be dry by the time the dinner came, and you were happy you’d had the forethought. 

Rifling through your closet, you pulled out the black dress that Joohee had mentioned, a form-fitting cocktail dress you’d picked up on a shopping trip with her. The square neckline complimented your decolletage and the fabric seemed to hug your curves just right, only slightly puckering around your hips. Your hair didn’t need much styling, opting to leave it natural, and your makeup was minimal, not feeling the energy to put in more effort. 

You made your finishing touches, surveying your appearance in your mirror, and were satisfied. A glance at your watch told you that you were right on time, but that you didn’t have a minute to lose, so you hastened your pace to the door to head downstairs. Before you made it past your bedroom door, your eyes caught on your wedding ring, sitting on your vanity. You bit the inside of your cheek, considering whether you should put it on. 

Whatever, you fumed internally, snatching it and sliding it onto your finger. It’s not like it mattered anyway but you’d grown to enjoy the feeling of the cool metal against your skin and fiddling with it when nervous.

You were somewhat surprised to see Yoongi sitting on the couch enjoying a glass of whiskey, not having expected him back from work this early. He had already changed out of his suit and into a black t-shirt and grey sweatpants, looking like the epitome of comfort with his messy hair, likely from pulling the shirt over his head. You hated how attractive he looked and the way it made your stomach turn and your heartbeat speed up. He noticed your presence hovering at the end of the living room before looking you over, his feline eyes watching you from above the rim of his glass. His gaze made heat bloom all over your body and you could only pray that he couldn’t tell how flustered you felt.

You were supposed to be mad at him, damn it. 

Although, were you allowed to now that he’d apologized? But that apology wasn’t what you’d wanted, not that you knew what you wanted. 

Sighing internally, you decided to remain cold with him. He’d wanted to reemphasize the distance between you two, so he’d get that. 

Settling for a curt nod, you walked past him into the foyer to slip on some simple, block heels, bending down to secure the straps. Yoongi cleared his throat behind you, causing you to turn back to face him. 

“Going out?”

“Yes,” you answered, pausing for a moment, pondering if you should tell him who you were meeting, considering his reaction to Hoseok last time. Maybe it was petty of you, but part of you wanted to push his buttons as much as he was pushing yours, wanted to make him annoyed and angry, just as much as you were at him. 

“I’m meeting Hobi for dinner,” you finished, confidently staring him down. His eyebrow twitched and you saw his gaze narrow, but he didn’t show much of a reaction outside of that. 

“Alright, have fun,” he said curtly, turning his attention back to his phone and whiskey. You almost scoffed at his standoffish attitude, but ultimately shrugged. You didn’t have the energy in you to be bothered by him. 

You did a final check of your belongings before opening the door and heading downstairs to catch a cab to the restaurant, you had a feeling you’d be drinking at some point tonight. In your haste, you missed the way Yoongi’s eyes followed your form, watching you leave without a glance in his direction. 

The restaurant certainly seemed fancy, it looked like Hoseok’s business partner had quite the expensive taste. You exited the cab as gracefully as you could in a cocktail dress and entered, immediately spotting Hoseok’s bright smile and energetic wave signaling you over. The hostess smiled, letting you pass to sit at the table he was at. He stood as you approached, enveloping you in a tight hug before releasing you and letting you sit across from him. As you settled in, you took the opportunity to observe his business partner, who was sitting beside him. 

He was quite pretty, with a round, angelic face and plump lips, and his hair was a soft grey, tousled atop his head. He smiled at you, eyes crinkling, making them look closed, which only made you smile widely in response. 

“It’s nice to meet you, I’m Park Jimin,” he introduced, bowing slightly. 

“Nice to meet you as well, I’m Seo Y/N,” you responded, returning the bow, “Hobi has been telling me how excited he is to be opening up a studio with you.”

Jimin’s face lit up, smiling even wider, “Yes! I’m so excited, it’s the whole reason I did my MBA. I’m just hoping we can find a good studio space.”

You nodded along to his words, noticing that he tended to become quite excited when he talked, similar to the man sitting next to him. 

“By the way, I love your dress,” Jimin exclaimed, startling you with the sudden compliment. 

“Oh, thank you,” you stumbled, “I love your hair and eye makeup.”

Jimin smiled, which he seemed to do quite often, also similar to Hoseok, “Thanks! I wanted to try out a fancy look since I was meeting Hoseok’s friends.”

“They’re not worth the effort,” Hoseok teased, making you gasp in fake indignation, “Where’s Joo, by the way, it’s already fifteen past.”

“She’ll probably be late,” you said, trying to soothe the worry lines appearing on Hoseok’s face, “You know how she is.”

“That’s what worries me,” he responded, only making you laugh.

“I’m here! I made it,” Joohee stumbled in, speedwalking to your table before ruffling Hoseok’s hair in greeting, “It’s nice to finally meet you!”

She slides in beside you, bowing a greeting to Jimin, “Hobi’s told us so much, he’s been really excited to work with you.”

“Thanks,” Jimin laughed, “I’m excited to work with him too. Opening up a studio has always been my dream, and Hoseok feels like the perfect partner.”

You both smile at Jimin’s words before starting to fuss over the menu and throwing question after question at Jimin to try and get him to open up. Over the course of the dinner, you learn he’s fairly high-maintenance, hence the restaurant choice, but he tends to back it up himself, which he proved when he offered to pay the tab. He tells you about his time in Hoseok’s old dance studio and how he was unsatisfied, so he decided to pursue his MBA in Seoul to eventually open up his own school. 

“It was a huge decision to make, I mean, Busan was my home. But I knew opening up my own studio was what I had to do, and I left everything behind to do it, my family, my boyfriend, and my job. It was hard,” he detailed, a glass and a half of wine into the dinner, “But it’ll be worth it, I just know it.” 

You smiled at him, “It definitely will be. Whatever you and Hobi do, I just know it’ll take off.”

“And don’t be afraid to let me or Y/N know if you need investors,” Joohee jumped in, “I know plenty of old men with fat pockets.”

Chuckling, you all took a sip of your drinks before Hoseok surprised you with a new line of questioning, “How’s the newly married life so far?”

“Oh, did you just get married,” Jimin asked excitedly, gesturing at the ring encasing your finger, “That’s so exciting, congratulations!”

“Thanks,” you smiled awkwardly, “I did, about a week ago. It’s been good so far, it’s nice.”

You couldn’t get into the specifics with Jimin there, someone whom you’d just met, it’d make things too awkward. Thankfully, Joohee came to your rescue.

“I meant to ask, how’s the studio space hunting going? Hobi’s been touring for that and his own apartment, he must’ve seen half of Seoul by now,” she joked, relieving some of the tension Hoseok’s question incited in you. The dinner conversation continued on pleasantly, but you felt yourself pulling away from your surroundings, your thoughts drifting to your husband. 

His behavior was confounding, to say the least, and it had occupied the back of your mind for the past few months, even before you got married. It felt like a constant static itching the corner of your brain, his voice humming in a soundtrack to your thoughts. 

The sound of Joohee gathering her things beside you pulled you back into the conversation and noticing they were getting ready to leave. You focused in to hear what they were talking about and learned that it was the terrible housing market in Seoul, leaving you to nod in agreement. You were lucky to score the apartment that you did, which was one of the reasons you were so reluctant to leave it, knowing that you wouldn’t have a place to go if you needed to leave Yoongi’s apartment. 

You jumped in with your comments here and there as your group walked to the exit, finally feeling present again, and stopped just outside the restaurant.

“It was really great meeting you both,” Jimin said cheerfully, hugging you and Joohee, “I hope we can meet up again soon!”

“Same here,” you grinned, “We’ll make Hobi create a group chat.”

Hoseok rolled his eyes before calling a cab, “Here, Jimin, let me get one for you. Text me when you’re in your apartment.”

Jimin saluted, grinning, before entering the taxi that had stopped at the curb. He waved until he was out of your line of sight, leaving you to sigh and turn to face your two friends. They stood behind you, arms crossed, and looking at you quite sympathetically. 

“What? Is this an intervention,” you joked, but they quickly shook their heads, reigniting your nerves. 

“Don’t think I didn’t hear your answer earlier,” Joohee stated, “You clearly need to talk about Yoongi.” Hoseok only nodded in agreement. 

You exhaled slowly, clearly, nothing was getting past your friends’ watchful eyes, “Alright, want to go back to my apartment? Hobi’s headed there anyway.”

Hobi only smiled, squeezing your shoulder before signaling for another cab.

“He’s just so confusing, I don’t know what I’m supposed to think,” you sighed frustratedly. 

“I agree, I think he’s playing games with you,” Joohee said, swirling her glass before taking a sip of her wine, “He’s being all hot and cold. What is he, fifteen?”

You chuckled, “It feels like I’m fifteen sometimes, the way he makes me feel.”

“I don’t know, maybe he’s just as confused as you are,” Hoseok interjects, causing you to shift your head to look at him. He was sprawled across your loveseat in a ratty t-shirt and sweats, munching on some chips. 

Joohee sat up, adjusting in her seat to face him as well, “What do you mean? He’s the one being confusing.” You nodded in agreement.

“Well, guys can be different,” Hoseok started, “Maybe he just doesn’t really understand what’s going on, this situation is new for both of you.”

You leaned back on your couch once more, considering Hoseok’s words while staring at your ceiling.

“Maybe he’s just using the distance excuse as a defense mechanism because he’s confused about how he feels about you,” he continued, “I saw the way he looked at you, Y/N. He definitely cares to some degree.”

You frowned, finding his statement hard to believe, but you tried to put yourself in Yoongi’s shoes nonetheless. Was he really developing feelings for you? Is that why he put more distance between you two, because he was scared? It felt difficult to conceptualize after the months of telling yourself there was no way Yoongi would ever harbor romantic feelings toward you. 

“But still,” Joohee interrupted your thoughts, “Even if that is the reason he’s acting this way, wouldn’t that still make him immature? He should have more emotional intelligence than to send mixed signals because he’s confused about his own feelings. Either way, he needs to grow up.”

Hoseok only hummed, tossing another chip in his mouth, but Joohee’s words struck you, making you sit up from your horizontal posture. 

“I mean, to be fair, are any of us really grown up,” you verbalized, making Joohee look at you questioningly, “All of us are immature in some way, and he doesn’t have any experience in this kind of situation like Hobi said. He probably went into this thinking that it was going to be more like a business partnership than anything and it hasn’t exactly been like that.”

You sighed, staring into your empty wine glass, “I feel like it’s unfair to hold him accountable for everything as if he’s some kind of villain. He still apologized and he’s been respectful. Whether he has feelings for me or not, he’s still navigating a new dynamic just like me. He’s allowed to make a few mistakes along the way, right?”

Joohee shook her head and smiled at you, “Yes, he is, but he’s still clearly hurting you. I think you guys need to talk this out. Clearly, you’re not on the same page. And even if he is just figuring out new feelings for you or not, you’re not obligated to wait around and find out. You can live your life how you want in the meantime.”

You returned her smile, “Yeah, you’re right, but I kind of feel like I already am. I don’t really have anything that I want to do that I’m not already doing. Honestly, not much has changed for me other than gaining a new, handsome roommate.”

She laughed in response before poking you, “How about going out and meeting someone? You can always take them back here. Yoongi said that he was fine with it, so you should go get laid. I know it’s been a while and you deserve the fun with someone who’s clear about their intents.”

You shrugged, “I know he said he was fine with it, but it still feels like cheating to me. I don’t know, it just makes me feel icky. I’m just not interested, really, just like before I got married.”

Joohee nodded, “Well, nothing wrong with that. I just hope that you’re not doing it because you feel like it’s unfair to Yoongi, he’s been more than clear about his consent.”

You shook your head, “It’s not that. I’d feel this way with anyone, you know how much I hate cheating. I can honestly say that even if Yoongi set me up with someone and went off with someone else, I still wouldn’t. It’s just not appealing to me right now. Maybe that’ll change, who knows?”

“That’s fair,” Joohee hummed, “You shouldn’t do anything you don’t want to. I’m glad you seem good with that at least.”

You nodded, tracing the rim of your glass, “What happened to Hobi? He’s been strangely quiet.”

The both of you turned to look at the loveseat only to see Hoseok’s head hanging off the edge of the cushioned arm, mouth open letting out quiet snores.

You and Joohee giggled before standing to try and transport him to his temporary bed in your guest room. The two of you got ready for bed and soon curled up under your comforter with Joohee whispering, “I hope you get to talk to him. I want things to work out for you.”

“Thanks, Joo,” you whispered back, “I’m so lucky to have you.”

Joohee only smiled and mumbled a quick, “I’m lucky to have you too. Goodnight, Y/N-ie.”

You laughed quietly, “Goodnight, Joo.”

When you awoke the next morning, Joohee had already left, having to go back to her apartment to get ready for work. She left a sweet note saying goodbye on your nightstand, making you smile. 

You left Hoseok to sleep in, figuring he’d wake up when he wanted. As compensation for his stay in your guest room, you snagged another one of his large shirts since most of your comfy shirts were at Yoongi’s apartment. Rushing through a simple morning routine, you quickly gathered your things to head back to Yoongi’s apartment. You hadn’t intended to stay out during the night, and even though you had a right to, you still felt the same panic you’d felt in your childhood having to face your mom after spending time with your friends. 

You scribbled out a note to Hoseok and left it out on the kitchen counter and rushed out the door, making your way to the bus station near your apartment building. It was a fairly long ride over to Yoongi’s apartment, so you settled in with some music and tried to relax your heart. You had no reason to be nervous, Yoongi likely wouldn’t have even noticed. He’d probably be at work by now, not even realizing that you hadn’t come back last night. You watched the people of Seoul through the bus window, walking to their jobs and checking their phones, likening them to what Yoongi probably looked like in the morning on his commute to work. Your fantasy was interrupted by the notion that Yoongi was probably driven to work in a sleek car and rode the elevator to the top floor. 

Blinking out of your daze, you noticed only two stops were left until yours and began getting ready to get up. Once you reached, you exited swiftly, making your way inside the building and nodding at the security guard. 

After taking the elevator up, you opened the front door as quietly as you could before entering and carefully closing it. You sighed as the silent house, it seemed like Mrs. Lim wasn’t here yet. Breathing a sigh of relief, you turned around to walk upstairs and were immediately startled by Yoongi sitting on the couch, calmly watching your movements. 

“Oh! Yoongi-ssi, I didn’t realize you’d be home,” you breathed, practically clutching at your chest, “Sorry if I’m disturbing you.”

“Not at all,” he hummed, setting his phone down to look at you, observing your frazzled state, “Late night?”

“Um, yeah, kind of,” you stuttered, “Hobi, Joohee, and I were drinking a bit.”

He only nodded, raising his eyebrow slightly, leaving you standing silently and awkwardly. You let out an awkward laugh before scooting around the couch and climbing up the stairs and to the safety of your room. Entering and closing the door behind you had you exhaling loudly and practically collapsing on your bed. 

How were you supposed to talk about your relationship with him when you could barely get through a thirty-second exchange? 

The rest of the week passed by peacefully with you barely interacting with Yoongi. You were almost relieved if it didn’t only put you more on edge for the weekend. You were dreading having to navigate around him being in the house for the whole day, but you were looking forward to going back to work the following week. You had had enough of lazing around and feeling unproductive, especially when all your friends were still busy so you couldn’t hang out with them. Joohee was working, of course, but Hoseok had finally settled on an apartment and was preparing to move in, leaving you quite lonely in your room. 

Friday meant that Yoongi would likely be home late, if at all, because he tended to spend it with his friends as Namjoon had informed you. It left you by your lonesome in the large apartment, where you ended up lying in bed for most of it. The lack of work was really starting to take a toll on you and made you recall when Yoongi’s mother had implied that you should quit when you got married.

The idea made you laugh. If the last two weeks were anything to go by, leaving you with nothing to do during the day would only result in an extended depressive episode. A glance at the clock on your side table let you know that it had gotten late enough in the evening to grab some dinner, which you opted to order in, feeling lazy. 

You ate in your room glumly watching some video or other and not really paying attention. You wondered if this weekend would be the one where you had your conversation with Yoongi. How would you even start that? What if he refused to talk to you or got defensive? If the conversation did work out, what would it mean for your relationship with Yoongi? Could you become friends?

The thoughts continued to swirl around in your brain as you gathered your dishes to deposit in the dishwasher and walked to your door. As you reached it, you noted some quiet voices on the ground floor, making your eyebrows raise. Maybe Yoongi’s friends had come? 

Shrugging, you opened your door and walked downstairs, turning into the living room and almost dropping your plate in shock. 

On the couch, Yoongi was on top of someone else with his hands on their face and supporting him on the couch, notably missing his ring, and kissing whoever was underneath. The sight was startling and troubling, immediately making tears fill your eyes. 

You should’ve expected this so why were you so upset? 

You didn’t take time to dwell on it and opted to run back to your room instead, but as you hastily turned back towards the stairs, the dishes in your hands slid against each other, making a loud noise. 

The noise alerted Yoongi and whoever was underneath him to your presence, making you flinch hard. 

“Y/N?”

You faced him with warm cheeks and wet eyes before steeling your expression. He didn’t need to know that you were affected, you refused to let him see you weak because of his actions. His face looked slightly shocked but his messy hair, unbuttoned dress shirt, and swollen lips made your heart hurt. The person underneath him sat up, facing you, mouth falling open in shock. 

“Y/N-ssi?”

Your own eyes widened, mirroring Jimin’s equally horror-stricken expression. He scrambled off the couch, attempting to fix his rumpled top, before stumbling over to you. 

“Y/N-ssi, I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize, I mean, I didn’t know-” he stuttered, grabbing your hands in a pleading manner, “I’m so sorry.”

You smiled as kindly as you could in that moment, he was just as much a victim in this as you were, “It’s okay, Jimin-ssi. Seriously. It’s complicated.”

His brows furrowed at your answer, but you could see the relief flood his face at your forgiveness, “Okay, but I’m still sorry. I’ll talk to you about it later though, it looks like you have some stuff to work out. I’ll text you, I promise.”

You nodded, mustering your best smile, and waved him off, finding yourself unable to speak much more. He quickly grabbed his phone off the table and whispered acidly to Yoongi before leaving quickly. 

His exit left you staring at the floor while Yoongi still stood by the couch. He took a few steps forward but stopped once you flinched back against the stair banister. 

“Y/N, I,” he started, but you cut him off. 

“It’s fine, we agreed about this. It’s fine,” you stated, before nodding curtly and turning to head up the stairs. 

You heard Yoongi call after you but you couldn’t bring yourself to turn around. You could feel your eyes welling up and your lip trembling, something you couldn’t let Yoongi see. Setting your eyes forward, you stiffly walked to your room, ignoring Yoongi’s call of your name. 

After retreating, you shut the door behind you, immediately crumpling to the ground in quiet cries. You should’ve known this would happen, you had even mentioned it to a degree with Joohee, so why did it hurt so much?

Maybe you had let your hopes rise after what Hoseok had said the other night and let your head fill with the idea of you and Yoongi sharing feelings for each other. Clearly, that was not the case. Whatever it was, it made your chest hurt and tears roll down your cheeks as you suppressed choked sobs. 

This felt like an overreaction. What right did you have to feel upset? This was the deal from the start. He had made it clear since the beginning that you were both allowed to take partners and you had prepared yourself. So why did it still hurt so much?

Feeling your sobs subside into wet hiccups, you slowly stood, tossing your dishes onto your desk and collapsing on your bed. You felt exhausted and dehydrated, and there was a headache almost certainly in your future. 

The sight of Yoongi with bitten lips above Jimin was still clear in your mind and only made you want to curl up into a ball. This wasn’t feasible. 

Your mind drifted to what Joohee had said before. What was really stopping you from going out and sleeping with someone too? Nothing was, and in your hurt and angry stupor, you vowed to make good on that. 

Reaching for your phone, you dug through your contacts before selecting the one you were looking for. 

To Lee Jaehyun:

You:

Hey, it’s been a while. Are you still in Seoul? I’d like to catch up.

With that, you sighed, shutting off your phone and closing your eyes. Exhaustion quickly overtook you, leaving you dozing quietly in only a few minutes.

The next morning had you waking with a pounding headache and a dread of leaving your room. The idea that you might face Yoongi outside was more than unappealing so you opted for staying in your room. Was it the coward’s way out? Maybe, but you felt that you deserved to be a coward for a bit. 

Yoongi hadn’t attempted to talk to you since your stunted conversation, there were no new calls or knocks on your door. You supposed he didn’t have a reason to, but some part of you wanted to hear him beg for your forgiveness. 

However, there was one new message on your phone, part of a conversation that you barely remembered starting and had to read through bleary eyes. 

Lee Jaehyun:

Hey, Y/N! It has been a while, it’s good to hear from you. I heard through the grapevine that you got married, congrats! 

I’m still in Seoul, I’m actually free tonight for dinner if you’re down to talk. We can do something casual at our usual spot. 

Despite the mindset you’d been in when you sent Jaehyun a message, hearing from him still brought a smile to your face. He was always sweet when you were dating and stayed that way after you’d broken up. You knew he understood the nature of your marriage and that it was likely what you were messaging him about, which it technically was. 

He had always been so understanding, you could only hope that he’d understand what you wanted to do and be willing to follow through on it with you. You quickly typed out a response before glancing at the time. You still had a while to hide in your room until you could leave to meet Jaehyun. 

To Lee Jaehyun:

You:

Sounds good, I can’t wait to see you. Does 6 sound good? 

Only a few minutes later, a text from Jaehyun came in confirming the time was fine. It left you to only wait until it was close enough to six to start getting ready. You occupied yourself with anything you could, trying your best not to think about Yoongi and instead, hyping yourself up for your night with Jaehyun. 

You could do this. 

You made sure to shower and shave properly and donned a casual, ruched dress that you knew Jaehyun loved on you. Taking the time to style your hair and put on some flattering natural makeup, you started to feel somewhat better about this. Who says you had you stop your sex life because of this? Even though it was already on hiatus long before your engagement, but that was neither here nor there. 

Touching up some last few details with your look, making sure to add a necklace that dipped into your cleavage, and double checking that you were wearing the right lingerie, you felt ready. One last look in the mirror had you feeling like a woman on a mission, and you essentially were, though not a noble one. 

The thought made you cringe but you tried to wipe away any guilt you felt. Clearly, Yoongi hadn’t felt any when he’d brought Jimin home. Jimin had texted you again last night but you hadn’t found the energy to text him back yet. You’d worry about that after fucking Jaehyun. 

With your look finished, you exited your room, making sure to be as quiet as possible so as to not alert Yoongi. You made it out the door successfully and breathed a sigh of relief. 

You quickly hailed a cab to take you to a ramen bar that you and Jaehyun frequented while you were still dating. As you reached, the memories of your relationship flooded your mind, triggered by the warm lighting on your skin and the spiced aroma filling the restaurant. You quickly spotted Jaehyun in the usual booth you’d sat in, somehow always empty for you two even on busy nights. He stood to greet you, hugging you loosely, before gesturing for you to sit. 

You noticed his eyebrow raise at your attire. You knew he knew you well enough that your appearance would tip him off somewhat to your intentions, you were slightly dreading having to explain to him your stupid idea. 

“Special occasion,” he questioned, nodding at your dress, eyes narrowing in on your necklace. 

You smiled, “Seeing you is a special occasion, right?”

At that he stopped, his eyes meeting yours once more, “Y/N, what are you up to?”

Your smile turned sheepish, shrugging slightly, “Nothing, nothing. I just wanted to see you.”

“In that dress?”

“Would be believe me if I said yes,” you joked. 

He laughed, making your heart warm. His laugh was always bright and contagious, it was one of your favorite things about him. 

“I’d think you have ulterior motives, Y/N. You know how I feel about that dress,” he chuckled, taking a sip of the beer next to him. 

You flagged down a waiter, ordering one for yourself, before facing him once more, “I do.”

Both of Jaehyun’s eyebrows raised at that, eyes narrowing at your figure, “You know the effect you have on me, Y/N, but you’re still married.”

You held back a sigh, not looking forward to explaining your dilemma, “I am, but the rules are…loose. And you’re the only one I was interested in.”

“Y/N,” Jaehyn started, suddenly much firmer, “Are you okay? This isn’t like you.”

The sudden concern made you melt, remembering why you’d loved him so much before, even though you’d dated for a relatively short amount of time. Your beer arrived next to you and you took a large sip to gain some courage. 

“I’m fine, promise. This is what I want.” That probably sounded believable enough.

Jaehyun hummed, taking another sip from his own glass, “Okay, then. Let’s see where this goes.”

Jaehyun’s apartment looked almost identical to the last time you’d been there, save for some new small pieces of decor. You didn’t have much time to observe it though, from the way Jaehyun was feverishly kissing you, pressing your body up against the door. 

He felt familiar and safe and the way his hands traveled down your body to slip past the hem of your dress was a nostalgic sensation. His mouth was attached to yours, kissing you without leaving you room to breathe, resulting in you gasping in breaths in the rare reprieves he did give you. He hiked up your leg against his waist before trailing his mouth down your neck, sucking a mark onto your collarbone. 

Your grip on his shirt tightened as his fingers approached your underwear, tantalizing your first foreign touch in a while. Your breaths were short and quick, letting yourself swim in the sensation of Jaehyun’s breath ghosting the neckline of your dress. Your head fell back against the door, your mouth slightly open, and your chest heaving at his close proximity. The cold feeling of your necklace against your chest slowly lifted, causing you to glance down to see Jaehyun catching the pendant in his teeth and dragging it up your cleavage, shooting you a lopsided grin. 

“Fuck,” you breathed, grabbing the side of his face and bringing him in for another kiss, this time more sloppy as the pendant slipped from his mouth. 

“Let me take you to the bed,” he whispered, tapping your thigh, and making you jump into his arms. He carried you into his bedroom, which you distantly noted hadn’t changed much either, and laid you down on his soft sheets, resuming kissing you while reaching for the zipper in the back of your dress. 

You felt his fingers travel along with the zipper down your back, erecting goosebumps in their wake, and the fabric slowly fell from your body. He lifted the dress off you leaving you in the purple lingerie you knew he enjoyed decorating your skin in sheer lace.

He grinned down at you, “Fuck, you know just what to do to me.”

He dove into the valley between your breasts and kissed down your navel, dragging his teeth along your skin. As you looked down at him, the sight of his black hair similar to another’s against your stomach suddenly made you feel slightly sick, and his veined hand and long fingers encircling your nipple had a striking resemblance to another pair of hands you appreciated. 

As Jaehyun’s mouth traveled towards your center, the sickly feeling grew and you couldn’t help but feel immense guilt not only toward Yoongi but Jaehyun as well. 

What were you doing?

Why were you doing this? Just to prove a point? That you can also fuck other people?

The questions made your head spin and you sat up suddenly, startling Jaehyun. Burying your head in your hands, you mumbled out apologies to Jaehyun, and maybe Yoongi too. 

“Hey, what’s wrong,” Jaehyun asked, settling himself in beside you, putting his arm around your shoulder, “Are you okay?”

“No,” you choked out, “I’m so sorry, but I don’t think I can do this.”

“That’s okay, we don’t have to do anything,” Jaehyun soothed, rubbing circles into your shoulder, “Want to talk about it?”

“I’m so sorry, it just feels so unfair to you,” you opted to not mention the guilt you felt toward Yoongi as well, “I shouldn’t be doing this, it’s stupid.”

“Why is that,” Jaehyun prompted.

“We decided early on that our marriage would be open,” you managed to say in between quick breaths and wet heaves, “Well, he decided that. I didn’t want that, I actually like him.”

This felt pathetic.

“But I caught him yesterday, with someone else. Fuck, it shouldn’t even bother me, but it does,” you muttered angrily, “And I decided I’d sleep with someone else too, just because of that. I’m so sorry, you don’t deserve this.”

“Hey,” Jaehyun turned your chin toward him, making you face him, “I’m an adult, I agreed to this. I did this because I wanted to, I wasn’t expecting us to start dating again. It’s okay that you tried this, and that you clearly aren’t comfortable with it. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“It’s so immature though, so petty,” you cried.

“So what? You can still be immature sometimes, you’re not perfect. Just because you’re an adult doesn’t mean you can’t make mistakes. I’m glad you stopped before you did anything you would’ve regretted,” Jaehyun smiled kindly, wiping your tears. 

His words made you pause, echoing what you’d said about Yoongi to Joohee earlier that week. Your sobs dried up into short breaths and a cough, making Jaehyun get up to get you water. You sat on his bed feeling rather small and your damp underwear felt uncomfortable. 

Jaehyun’s comforting still didn’t get rid of the guilt you felt but his gentle smile upon returning with a glass of water eased it slightly. You sipped it, feeling yourself calm down, watching Jaehyun ruffle through his closet before pulling out a large shirt you’d often stolen from him during your relationship.

“Here,” he said, handing you the shirt, “Wear that, you can sleep here, I don’t want you out in this state. I’ll take the couch.”

“No, I couldn’t let you do that in your own home,” you protested, “Let me take the couch.”

Jaehyun raised his hand, silencing you, “I’m not hearing it. Please, just sleep here and let me know if you need anything.”

“Okay,” you nodded, lowering your gaze to the water in your lap. 

“And, Y/N,” he called, making you look up at him again, “I’m glad you reached out. We can always talk, I’m always here for you.”

You smiled, feeling emotional for a new reason now, his kindness washing over you in a soothing wave, “Thanks, Jaehyun. I’m here for you too, whenever you need it.”

He grinned before whispering a quick goodnight and shutting the door behind him. 

Finally alone, you sighed. What a night. You still felt guilty, though you knew it wouldn’t do much good now, and you were honestly happy that you’d stopped things before it went too far. You were doing this for the wrong reasons, and even before you’d gotten engaged, you’d had no interest in sleeping with people. What transpired tonight was clearly just an attempt to get back at Yoongi, which was unfair to all parties involved, but especially Jaehyun. 

You felt a little disgusted with yourself for using him that way when he’d been nothing but sweet to you. What had you become?

Finishing your water, you stood and peeled the lingerie off of your body and slipped on Jaehyun’s giant college t-shirt. It felt a little weird to not be wearing anything but the shirt to bed, but you didn’t have much choice with your lingerie being disgusting at this point. You quickly gathered your soiled clothing and stuffed it into a plastic bag you’d found, planning to bring it home as discreetly as possible the next morning. That left you lying in Jaehyun’s bed, head still swimming with the events of the past 48 hours. 

In a way, you were glad this had happened, it had given you the confirmation that whoever your partner was, no matter the openness of the relationship, you weren’t interested in dating outside of your marriage. Even if you didn’t have any feelings for Yoongi, you still would’ve felt disgusted. You could hear Joohee chastizing you in your head about how you had a right to get even and that you deserved to have fun, but this wasn’t fun to you. It wasn’t appealing in the slightest. 

Despite the nightmarish evening, you felt content with where you were in your own sexuality. Maybe at some point, you would become comfortable enough to actually sleep with other people, but that wasn’t something you wanted to worry about right now. 

Right now, you weren’t near ready for that. What you needed was to have that conversation with Yoongi, and, with newfound courage, you resolved to have it by the end of the day tomorrow. 

With your new mission in mind, you felt yourself drift to sleep in the distantly familiar feeling of Jaehyun’s mattress and scent. 

The next morning had you feeling more embarrassed than guilty at the previous night’s events, and you quietly exited Jaehyun’s room, hoping not to wake him on the couch before leaving. Just your luck though that his door creaked loudly, making him sit up from his position on the couch. 

His bleary stare and messy hair made you smile as you waved a shy hello. He waved lazily with one hand and rubbed his eyes with the other, taking in the sight of you in just his shirt, your lingerie and dress sitting in the plastic bag hanging from your hand. 

“Damn, I really wish you weren’t married,” he slurred, likely still quite sleepy. 

You laughed, walking over to him, “If I get divorced, you’ll be my first call.”

He smiled loosely, still quite tired, “Yes, do that. Anyway, you can take one of my shorts, but please let me drive you back. I’m nervous about you going out like that.”

You nodded, “Okay, thanks. For everything, seriously.” You wanted to say more, but you weren’t sure how to phrase it. The unconditional kindness he displayed to you left you speechless and only more upset that he wasn’t the one you got to marry. 

The ride back to Yoongi’s apartment was fairly quiet, with Jaehyun still quite tired, as he was never a morning person. He stopped in front of Yoongi’s building, whistling at the height of the tower. You smiled and thanked him again, squeezing his hand, before opening the door to leave. 

“Hey, seriously, Y/N. Call me if you ever need anything, I’m always here to listen,” he said, watching you exit his car. 

“Thanks, Jaehyun. I really can’t thank you enough,” you responded, smiling at his waving off of your answer. You shut the door before steeling your resolve for what awaited you in Yoongi’s apartment. 

This was going to have to happen sooner or later, but it was time to have an honest conversation with Yoongi. 

And you were going to be okay, no matter the outcome. 

Probably.

Yoongi was tipsy. He hadn’t seen you since last night when you’d come downstairs in the middle of him making out with some guy he’d found at the club with Taehyung and Seokjin. You seemed to know the guy, Jimin he remembers, and that made him feel odd. 

He wasn’t upset, no, he felt sick in his gut that you apparently knew the person he’d chosen to sleep with outside of your marriage. 

He wasn’t sure why it was so upsetting to him, you’d both decided early on to leave your relationship open. Theoretically, there was nothing wrong with what he did. But it didn’t stop the guilt that swirled in his stomach, making him reach for more whiskey. 

Something about your expression, just as you’d turned around after he’d noticed you. Your eyes were teary and you were biting your lip. Your eyebrows were knotted together and he could see the tight grip you had on the plate in your hands. 

Your expression made his heart clench. 

It was the most emotion he’d seen on your face, and you seemed unbelievably upset. And he had done that to you. 

What was worse was the way your face returned to its usual cold exterior only moments later, the epitome of calm and collected. Was Yoongi not worth becoming emotional over for you?

No, Yoongi wasn’t upset about that. No, he was upset that you felt the need to control yourself like that. Yoongi had grown up being taught to control his every emotion, his every expression, and any aspect of his body language, and it molded him into an emotionally stunted adult with only a few close friends with whom he could loosen up with. 

He had done that to you. 

Yoongi resisted the urge to slam his glass down on his desk. He was a piece of shit, he felt disgusting. 

You hadn’t come out of your room since last night and he wasn’t sure what to do. Did you even want to see him for him to apologize? He didn’t want to message you, the fear of being ignored was too great. 

Suddenly, he heard the front door open and close, and silence afterward. So you’d gone out. Fair enough, Yoongi couldn’t blame you. He wouldn’t want to be around himself if he were you either. 

He didn’t want to be around himself as it was. 

Fuck.

He was getting in over his head. He remembered the feel of Jimin’s plush lips against his own and his skin under the rough pads of Yoongi’s fingertips, but he didn’t feel anything. It felt like he was forcing himself, going through the motions, desperate to find an answer to the confusion he’d felt since he’d married you. 

In a way, he’d found an answer. Yoongi was undeniably attracted to you, and only you. Jimin was a last-ditch effort to prove to himself that he wasn’t developing feelings for you, and that had failed. Catastrophically. 

This, however, brought a new dilemma for Yoongi, what was he supposed to do about it? It wasn’t fair to you for Yoongi to push these new feelings onto you after being caught with someone else. Yoongi knew that much. It’d only serve to be confusing and upsetting to you. So what was he supposed to do? 

Yoongi bit his lip, hard. When was the last time he’d had feelings for someone? Taehyung? That would’ve been years ago, when they’d first met, and Taehyung had had a girlfriend at the time. So Yoongi had pushed his feelings down and repressed them until they were no longer there and Taehyung was nothing but a good friend. 

But this was different. Yoongi was married to you, he had the opportunity to pursue his feelings. But what of the consequences? What if you didn’t want that? What if you were disgusted with him, now? Rightfully so, he mused. 

A sigh escaped his mouth as he refilled his whiskey glass, his head was starting to hurt. New whiskey was poured into his glass but he did not drink it.

Despite the fact that he’d finally come to terms with his budding affection for you, he’d never felt more lost and confused.  

previous / masterlist / next

[frudoo]

I need a part 2 and 3 of Bikers 141!!!! And for the anonymous person who suggested this idea: You are a genius!! This is such a great idea!!!! I can see them helping her get a new job!!! Please add more!

Sorry it took so long for me to reply 🫣

Life has been a bitch and unfortunately I am the son.

Part 2 to this.

Warnings: None! Fem!Reader.

“She’s ridin’ w’me,” Simon grunts, and his tone leaves no room for argument—not that you mind.

    You hesitantly walk over and climb onto Simon’s bike, holding onto his waist for dear life despite still being stationary. He chuckles, revving up his engine and leading the way out of the parking lot for the three other men to follow. You frown, fingers digging into the flesh of his waist beneath his skin-tight shirt, hiding your face between his shoulder blades so you can’t see how fast you’re going or feel the wind whipping your hair. 

     Finally, the motorcycle comes to a stop with a slight jerk that has you yelping against Simon’s back. He chuckles and dismounts his ride, grabbing your waist and lifting you off of it as well. You don’t even have time to process how easily he picked your plush body up when you’re just so thankful to be alive. 

     “I am never doin’ that again!” You huff, hands on your hips as you glare at all of them. “Especially without a helmet! Do you know how dangerous that is?! What if y’all had crashed?!” 

     “Good thing we didn’t, then, eh?” John winks, nodding his head towards the quaint little ice cream parlor before you. 

     Johnny is the first to walk in, head held high like he owns the place. Next is Kyle and then John with similar stances, and the thought is so silly that it makes you giggle—four big, strong bikers trudging into the little shop to enjoy a sweet treat. Simon places his hand on the small of your back and opens the door for you, having to duck his head to trail in after. The inside looks like a typical creamery, swirls of pastel pinks and greens and yellows decorating the walls and a beautiful display of all kinds of flavors.

     “Kate,” John greets the woman behind the counter with a sniff. “Got someone for you to meet.”

     The woman gives you a onceover before turning back to John with a pleased grin. Suddenly you feel small, wrapping your arms around one of Simon’s biceps in some effort to feel safe. He chuckles, bending at the waist to murmur into your ear.

     “Tha’s jus’ Kate. Doesn’t smile much, bu’ it looks like she approves o’ya,” He explains, although now you’re more confused than intimidated.

     “Approves of me? For what?” You frown, looking up at the tall man who, surprisingly has taken off his mask—he hadn’t even done that to eat back at the diner. “O-oh, you’re… I- uh. Hm.”

     Simon smirks amusedly, and it makes your heart flutter. There are multitudes of scars all along his visage but the most prominent runs across his top lip, jagged and off-white as if it was the result of a poorly done repair job. His hair is a mess of cropped blonde strands, one bushy eyebrow raised like he’s waiting for your assessment. In short, you like what you see. In all honesty, you’ve never felt such a strong urge to kiss somebody in your life. You might have done just that if Kyle hadn’t cleared his throat.

     “Kate’s askin’ ya summat, dove.”

     “Huh? Oh! I’m so sorry, ma’am, w-what were you sayin’?” You quickly whip your head around to see that, in fact, she’s looking right at you with her arms crossed. 

     “I was offering you a job. The boys were telling me that you just got fired, is that right?” Despite her unforgiving posture, her eyes are soft and she seems patient—the complete opposite of your old boss. 

     “Yes, ma’am,” you confirm, embarrassed. 

     “Right. You start tomorrow,” Kate informs you matter-of-factly, and you sputter although no words come out of your agape mouth. 

     None of the men seem at all phased by her statement, each ordering their respective usuals, apparently: rum raisin for Kyle, pistachio for John, lemon custard for Simon, and almond mocha for Johnny. All five turn to look at you expectantly, and you suck in a deep breath before settling on a classic root beer float. They all seem pleased, and before you even get the chance to pull out your card to pay for your own, John takes care of the entire thing. You thank him sweetly as the guys guide you to sit at a cute little table, far too small and whimsical for the likes of them.

     It’s a good root beer float, though. Maybe it’s not such a bad thing that these men—no matter how blunt or forward they may be—are so eager to help you out (in their own way of politely bossing you around, of course).

[banj0possum]

Please more poly vampires please😭🙏! I can hardly ever find x male/masc reader stuff especially about monsters😭. What happens when they take us back to their home. What's gonna happen to us? What will the townsfolk react?

Poly!Vampires x Reader Pt. 2

CW: kidnapping, silas is a freak for a brief moment

waaaaa !! so sorry this took so long !! thank you all for being so patient with me ! >w< <3

update: i mixed up garrick and silas' names im sorry im sorry its fixed now guys im so-

🌙 Its been a week since the townspeople found your house empty, your bedroom looking like something out of a mystery novel.

🌙 The bed was stained with blood and claw marks were dug deep into your bedframe with the moonlight illuminating your room through your broken window.

🌙 It looked as if you've been taken by a creature of the night, but weirdly enough, your luggage was nowhere to be found. Your closet and drawers had clothes missing and the painting you had just finished was gone.

🌙 Who could have done this?

🌙 "Garrick, it's your turn to drive!"

🌙 "Already?! Just one more minute Viktor~?"

🌙 You're being held hostage, no, hostage wasn't the right word..kidnapped? Enslaved maybe? who knows..All you know was that these..creatures..will never let you out of their sight.

🌙 You remember that night when you bore witness to their inhuman ways, they were at the foot of your bed when you took out the crucifix under your pillow and held it to Viktor, his eyes turning all red and he hissed at the holy figure.

🌙 "Ohoho! Our little mortal's smart!" Garrick grins, showing off his sharp fangs.

🌙 Silas tries to grab you but you dodge, but his long claws managed to cut your cheek, you couldn't say the same for your bedframe..

🌙 Viktor gets a hold of you and chuckles darkly at your cut, the red liquid bleeding out of it made his mouth water.

🌙 "My my~ What a fierce little minx you are my darling~" he coos with a raspy cold breath as he licks your wound. The feeling made your stomach churn and your spine shiver.

🌙 Garrick was busy making a mess of your room and stuffing your clothes in bags. Also stuffing a pair of your underwear in his shirt for himself.. "Come on you idiots! It's almost dawn!" He whisper-yells as he fiddles with the window's lock.

🌙 Silas rolls his eyes and kicks the window, breaking it and jumping through, with Garrick holding his hand.

🌙 You were confused beyond compare. Were they really gonna kidnap you?! What's gonna happen to you?! Should you scream for help?!

🌙 "I'm sorry for this Darling.." Viktor says softly before knocking you out.

🌙 Now back to the present, the 3 rode around in a caravan, a charming little wagon that doubled as a moving home of sorts. One went in front and drove while the other two looked after you or did other things.

🌙 Every escape attempt you had would end up in failure, their superhuman senses were no match for you.

🌙 "Garrick you said that 10 minutes ago!" Viktor growls at the younger vampire.

🌙 Garrick groans "Fiiiiiine!" He says before giving you one last hug and kiss and going out with a coat to shield him from the sun.

🌙 You had about 10 seconds to yourself before Viktor sits down next to you and pulls you onto his lap.

🌙 "Oh how I missed your warmth little mortal~" He purrs, kissing your neck which made you tense up in fear of his fangs. He feels your heart beat faster and smirks. "Am I making you nervous~?" He teases.

🌙 Silas comes over and smacks the dark-haired man on the head "Enough Viktor! Don't you think our precious little darling is frightened already?" he scolds before smiling down at you warmly. Viktor just rolls his eyes and buries his face into your neck.

🌙 He hands you a cup of tea and sits down across from you and Viktor "Drink up dear, mortals like you need to stay warm in the winter~"

🌙 Silas was the most respectful one out of the 3, he was always taking care of you and making sure the others didn't make you feel uncomfortable, but of course he was just as obsessive of you as they were.

🌙 Viktor is such a cuddle bug, always hugging you close every chance he gets. He'd even have the luxury to sleep with you, an activity he hasn't done in a while. He might not need to sleep, but just lying in bed with your adorable sleeping form was like being in heaven for him.

🌙 Garrick love love loves chatting with you. Rambling to you about people he's killed or jewelry he's looted off of his food weren't the best topics to talk about, but he's got no one else to talk to! And you are his darling after all!

🌙 And you could do nothing about any of it. You were treated like a glorified pet and there was no way to leave or escape of have any time for yourself..

🌙 It continued on like this until the caravan came to a stop by a small town. The weather was much colder now than it was in your hometown with rain softly pouring down from the sky.

🌙 Your heart drops, knowing what they're going to do here.

🌙 They all come off the caravan, Silas going to give the horses some food. You refused to leave the caravan in your anxiety-stricken state.

🌙 Garrick notices your nervousness and smiles, sitting next to you and putting his forehead to yours "Darling, you miss home don't you~?" he coos softly.

🌙 You nod slightly as you refuse to look at him or even move.

🌙 The vampire sighs and rests his head on your shoulder and holds your hand. "I know honey...but we won't hurt you! And besides, you don't know these people anyway! You scared we'll kill them and stuff? It's fine! We do it all the time!" He laughs. He wasn't making anything better..

🌙 "You're shit at comforting people Silas." Viktor looks at the red head with a deadpanned expression. "Oh up yours Vik!" Garrick rolls his eyes at him.

🌙 At least that made you lighten up a bit..

🌙 Garrick pulls you up from your seat and you get out of the caravan, rain hitting your face before the vampire opens up an umbrella and holds you close to him so you don't get wet.

🌙 "Its fine dear, this is the last stop before we head back to our new home~" Silas walks over and places a kiss on your cheek.

🌙 Wait..home?..

🌙 "Now gentleman! Who's hungry~?"

sorry this is a bit short ! but feel free to request or ask anything about these blorbos! i love em a lot !

[cassiesc0rner]

Impurities V

Synopsis: You're the new girl at East Highland High, your only goal is to get through school. Until you come across Nate Jacobs

Genre: angst, slight fluff

Pairing: Nate x fem!reader

Warnings: negative body-image, panic attack, manipulation, lying, jealousy, dark themes, violent behaviour, Nate talks about intimate stuff with Max, Nate is being really mean :/ Imk if I missed something

Song rec: praying - Isabel LaRosa | I wish you roses - Kali Uchis | mentally not here - Elita | Somewhat Damaged - NIN | Animal - Sir Chloe

WC: +9,5k

Other parts: previous part, next part

A/N: I know this one took a little longer than usual, but I fear the next updates will take a little longer too, since I’m a perfectionist and I don’t wanna do anything half assed and quick. This one is also really just angsty. :( but thank you guys in advance for reading, and for being so patient with me! ᥫ᭡

You were surprised when you got home and found your dad opening the door for you. It wasn't like he never opened the door for you before, but you were used to your mom being the only one who's home.

You didn't bother saying anything as you entered your home. He frowned for a moment when you walked past him, typing on your phone. He was surprised you didn't smile at him and greet him properly.

"Y/n?" he called out. You turned around and looked at him "What?" you asked nonchalantly. He looked at you completely bewildered, before he sighed "Where were you?" he asked with a frown.

Your eyes nearly jumped out of your skull "Excuse me... what did you say?" you asked, taking a few steps closer to him. "Did you just ask me where I was?" You scoffed in disbelief.

Your dad crossed his arms. "Yeah.. what's with the attitude?" he asked. "Oh, sorry, it's just.. you usually never ask me where I've been so..." You explained sarcastically, not sure if your parents were slowly losing their minds.

"I was outside with a friend." you added before taking your shoes off, and walking towards your room.

Your dad looked after you in confusion. He hadn't looked at you properly for the past few weeks, and he felt uneasy, seeing how different you dressed and behaved.

Earlier that day, he approached your mom and asked her, why you two got so quiet all of a sudden, and she told him about her concerns regarding you and Nate. At first, he thought she was just making a fuss over nothing again.

But after seeing you walk past him, looking nothing like his daughter, he became concerned as well. It wasn't just the short skirt and the way-too-tight top that threw him off; it was the fact that you suddenly looked like every highschool guy's fantasy.

If you were to ask a middle schooler what a girl looks like, they'd describe you: No body hair, long lashes, obsessed with pink and skirts.

You weren't like that before. You never wore skirts or bright, soft colours. You always wanted to look cool and dark, not soft and... feminine.

He shook his head in disbelief before he walked into the garden and lit his cigarette, worried about what you might've gotten yourself into.

And worrying about how he could get you out of it.

The next day you woke up feeling well-rested as your alarm rang at 11 AM. It was Saturday, and you and Nate had this unspoken rule of meeting up every Saturday.

He texted you that he'd pick you up at 1 PM, but he didn't tell you what you would be doing. You got up and chose one of your dresses for the day.

It was a vintage-style, pastel pink A-line dress, with a floral pattern and puffy short sleeves. You found the dress online one day and just had to order it.

You missed it sometimes, going shopping on your own and taking inspiration from your pinterest boards. Choosing your clothes yourself and not wearing what someone else wants you to wear.

You missed your pants, loose graphic tops and your comfortable sneakers. When you wore tighter fitting tops, you constantly felt the need to suck in your stomach, and sit straight to prevent any pesky rolls from appearing.

The worst part was, that you were absolutely sure Nate didn't notice your effort which pressured you even more, because he probably thought you simply looked like this all the time.

Eating with him was also something you couldn't enjoy as much anymore, because you got bloated after your meals sometimes. You trusted Nate with your life, but you just didn't want him to see you in any unflattering way ever.

You also obviously loved Nate, and his compliments, but you were so overwhelmed sometimes, because you were so focused on being perfect for him that you weren't able to pay attention to other things anymore.

You didn't want him to even think about looking at other girls, which he also barely did when you two were out together. But the words of your mother and Maddy made you feel so insecure.

If what they were saying was true, you should be concerned about Nate only liking you because of your style or appearance, but instead, you felt the need to impress him more and more every time, craving his approval.

You pushed the thoughts aside as you grabbed a fresh towel, your underwear, and your dress before you went to the bathroom to take a shower and shave, which was a part of your routine you had to get used to at first.

It wasn't like you never shaved before, but you definitely never took it as serious as now. You loved it when Nate would run his hands over your legs, or arms with this satisfied smile on his face before he would tell you how smooth and soft your skin feels.

After your morning routine, you sighed as you slid into the dress, before you brushed and blow-dried your hair.

When you left the bathroom and walked back towards your room, you were surprised to catch a glimpse of both of your parents in the kitchen. You were starting to get suspicious, since your dad usually would've been at work by now.

You brushed it off and walked into your room to do your make up. You usually didn't wear a lot of make up. You just made sure to accentuate your lashes, put on some tinted lip balm, and some concealer to hide any dark spots. Sometimes, you added a winged eyeliner, nothing too dramatic, which gave your eyes a more doll-like look.

Of course, you were aware of the fact that Nate loved that look on you; in his eyes it suited you perfectly.

Almost like you were his own personal doll.

You also put on a generous amount of your perfume, after noticing how much Nate loved it on you, and decided to stay in your room until he would call you to tell you he's there.

You used the time to think of something you could gift Nate. Sure, you planned the surprise party and you paid for a lot of the things already. But you felt obligated to buy him an extra present, simply because he bought you so many without a special occasion.

Before you could finish that thought however, the doorbell rang. You didn't bother to leave your room since you knew your mom ordered something a few days ago.

Until you heard his deep voice vibrating through the walls.

You quickly got up and nearly ran out of your room. You walked to the main hallway, spotting Nate, talking to your dad, with flowers in his hand. He was earlier than you expected.

You walked up to them until you reached Nate and nearly jumped into his arms. "Hey.." you whispered shyly as you smiled up at him, your eyes so full of love for him that he couldn't help but wonder if all of this was just an act.

If you also looked at Max that way.

"These are for you." he informed you with a small smile, as he handed you the bouquet of red roses. He bought them on his way to your place, mostly for you of course, but also in an attempt to make a good impression on your parents.

"Aw.. they're so beautiful thank you!" You exclaimed as a big smile made its way onto your face. You got on your tiptoes before pressing a kiss on his cheek.

"Is this the 'friend' you went out with yesterday?" your dad asked, causing your eyes to widen before you turned towards your dad "No.. I went to Mia's place yesterday." yeah sure "This.." you trailed off as your hand searched for Nate's "is my boyfriend." you announced.

Your dad nodded "Yeah.. we've talked before, right?" he asked and Nate forced a smile "Yeah..." Your dad chuckled "I would give you the 'don't you dare hurt my daughter' talk, but I'm sure my wife did that already."

Nate nodded slowly "Yeah.. she did." he sighed. "I'll bring her back tomorrow, if that's okay?" He added. Your dad hesitated for a moment before he nodded as well. "Alright, let's go." You said as you smiled up at Nate.

You handed the roses over to your dad "Can you put them in my vase for me?" you asked as you looked at him, and to his dismay, you weren't smiling at him the way you used to when you were younger.

Or the way you just smiled at Nate.

He nodded as he smiled down at you "Sure.. When are you going to be back tomorrow?" he asked as Nate opened the door, ready to leave as fast as possible. "Um.. I don't know?" you shrugged before you simply waved at him, which bothered your dad.

It bothered him because he knew that you didn't need him anymore. When you needed him he was at work, always, no exception. You must've been so lonely without him, just the thought of it made him feel awful.

It wasn't that he simply didn't care enough about you. He did, he just couldn't show it, because that meant he'd be vulnerable in front of his family.

And his dad didn't raise him like that.

As soon as the door closed behind you, your dad sighed in frustration "You know that this is your fault, right?" your mom taunted as she stood behind him.

Your dad turned around as he clenched his jaw "What was I supposed to do? Say 'no, don't ever talk to my daughter again'?" He angrily responded as he walked past her "That's not what I meant." She retorted calmly, as she watched him go into the kitchen.

When he didn't react, she shouted "You could've prevented all of this from happening, if you just would've been a real father."

He stopped in his tracks before he turned around, the flowers still in his hands as he approached your mom with heavy steps, causing her to take a step back in fear "Oh yeah?" he rumbled as he looked down at her "And what about you? Maybe if you did your job right, our daughter wouldn't cling to a guy like him."

She sighed before blinking up at him "What do you mean by that?" Your dad scoffed in disbelief "You know what I'm talking about. You and your fucking anxiety all the time... You raised a loner, and a weak one at that. Of course she's gonna run into the arms of the first person, who is nice to her for longer than just a week." he spat.

"It wasn't exactly easy to raise her alone, you know?" she defended herself "Jesus, you act like I did nothing for this family! Why do you think I'm constantly at work? So that you and her don't have to worry about money." he raised his voice, causing her to flinch.

He sighed as he recalled all the fights the two of them had, and how he would come into your room late at night, to tuck you into bed. That was one of the few interactions the two of you had when you were younger.

And you'd always complain about how your mom wouldn't let you go out with your 'friends', which caused them to think you were weird and a loner. Of course they weren’t real friends, but that alone made it even harder for you, to find actual people who you can trust and build a friendship with.

And whenever he tried to talk to your mom and tell her that she needed to get treatment for her anxiety, they would fight. Sometimes even until he had enough and just left, not coming home until the next day.

"Do me a favor," he said, pushing the roses into her hands, "put them in water and stop talking." he groaned, before leaving her behind to, once again, drive away and calm down.

Nate decided to take you to a pretty café today and you couldn't help but feel excited. Until you noticed that he was lost in thoughts for most of the car ride. He wasn't that talkative to begin with, but today was just different.

"And he suddenly asks me where I went when I got home yesterday, isn't that strange?" you said, looking at the menu, unsure which cake to choose. He nodded, narrowing his eyes at you without you noticing.

He wanted to ask you the same thing, but he knew you wouldn't tell him the truth "Yeah that's actually strange.. your family's strange in general though." Nate added.

He wondered what had gotten into your dad. At first, he didn't care that Nate wanted you to go to his party and sleep at his place, and then all of a sudden, he asks you where you went yesterday and when you’d be back home tomorrow?

He hoped he didn't have to take care of both of your parents. But he probably had to if your dad started to get in his way too.

But what was even more important right now was what you were doing with Max behind his back. And he was about to find out today, either you’ll tell him, or he will. "Nate?" he blinked before chuckling "Sorry.. I kind of zoned out."

You stroked his hand that was resting on the table, looking at him. "Is everything okay? You seem really distracted today." you frowned.

Nate shook his head dismissively "Yeah sure.. I'm just really stressed out at the moment.." you pouted in return "I'm sorry, is there something I can do? Do you wanna go home?" He shook his head again "No, let's order something and eat first."

You nodded as you continued to look at the list "I don't know which one to choose.." you groaned as your eyes flickered from one cake to another. "C'mon, let me choose for you." Nate offered as he looked at the menu, feeling some sense of control return to him.

"Yeah, please." you sighed. "I wanna get the cheesecake, but the strawberry one also looks really good." you explained. Nate nodded "Take the strawberry one." he demanded calmly.

You nodded before you started a new topic "Oh, by the way, what do you think of my new dress? I bought it recently.." you told him with a shy smile on your tinted lips. Nate furrowed his brows in return, realizing he hadn't complimented you today.

Did you feel neglected? Had this happened before? "Oh, you're right! I meant to ask you about it, since I've never seen you wear that before... You look absolutely gorgeous, as always." He smiled at you "How could I forget..." he mumbled more to himself than to you.

Maybe it did happen before and you felt like he's not paying attention to you anymore. Which definitely wasn't true at all, but you were insecure so what if you let your insecurities get the best of you?

That could be the only reason for you to even consider cheating on him with someone like Max.

After the short trip to the café nearby, you and Nate went straight home. His patience was running thin and he needed closure. You already noticed his mind was elsewhere, and he already planned on asking you about the situation once you were at his place.

As you entered Nate's home, Marsha greeted and approached you. "Hey, Sweetie." She exclaimed as she hugged you softly. "How did your mom take the news?" she asked.

You sighed "To be honest, not so well.. Haven't spoken to her in days." you admited with a sad smile. "Oh... that's not good. I guess she's not open to meeting up with me then?" She added "I didn't even get to ask her, because we had a pretty big fight." you admitted.

Marsha frowned "I'm sorry, Honey." just as she was about to say something else, Nate interrupted "We'll figure something out, I bet it's gonna be alright." you nodded in response "C'mon let's go upstairs." he added before he took your hand in his. You smiled friendly at Marsha before you followed him.

Once you two entered his room, Nate closed the door behind him, not moving from the spot.

Then you heard the click sound of the lock.

You turned around and looked at him, with this confused look which Nate usually found absolutely endearing. When he simply stared at you, you felt even smaller than you already were in his presence.

You chuckled nervously, unsure of what he was going to do next. Did he plan on having sex with you right away? Why else would he lock the door?

"Are you.. just gonna stand there?" You asked nervously. He chuckled drily before shaking his head "I'm just looking at you for a moment." he reasoned.

You approached him with a shy smile, before wrapping your arms around his waist and placing your head on his chest, releasing a content sigh as you did.

Usually Nate would smile in return or react in literally any way, but right now he decided to wait until you would let go of him. Right now he didn't like the way his your perfume clouded his senses, or the way his your bag sat so nicely on your shoulder.

Once you removed your arms and took a step back to look at him, Nate decided now's the moment. His back leaned against the door as he stared you down. "I need to ask you something." he announced. You frowned, before nodding and tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

"Where were you yesterday?"

Your eyes widened. You didn't expect him to ask you that. You involuntarily swallowed as you playfully furrowed your brows "I was at Mia's, I told you." he chuckled again "I know what you told me." he said as he crossed his arms, an insincere smile on his face that sent a shiver down your spine.

You looked at the ground as you tried to think of something, anything you could say. "Y/n, where were you yesterday?" it was the same question, but his tone was sterner. You didn't dare to look at him, knowing he'd see how nervous you were.

Not like he couldn't tell already just by the way you stared at the ground. "I.. was at M-Mia's-" Nate groaned "No, you weren't." he interrupted "I know for a fact that you weren't." his voice dropped an octave, as he tried his best to control himself.

He took notice of the way your breathing picked up as you still didn't look at him. "Nate... Why are you asking me this?" you asked as you tried to calm down, and buy time to come up with something else you could tell Nate.

"Because you're lying to me, and I wanna know why." He reasoned. You couldn’t tell if he knew you were with Max, or if he talked to Mia and only knew that you weren't with her. All you knew was that he wasn't messing around. "Why do you think I'm lying to you?" you asked as you finally looked up at him.

You've never seen that look on his face before.

This dark, cold look that made your breath hitch in fear. "Do you think I'm stupid?" he suddenly asked, his voice void of any emotion. You quickly shook your head "No, of course not! I just... I don't know where this is coming from suddenly." you admitted.

Nate sighed "Y/n... I'm going to ask you this one last time and you better tell me the truth." he warned, "Where were you yesterday?" Your breathing got quicker again, not allowing you to focus. "I.. I wasn't at Mia's place..." you admited shakily.

Nate nodded "That's right, you weren't." his tone softened just slightly "Now tell me... who were you with yesterday?" You played with your fingers as you felt like your heart would stop any moment from now. "Nate... I-I can't tell you."

Nate clenched his jaw as he inhaled sharply. "I've always been honest with you, is it too much to ask you to do the same?" he asked drily "I don't... ask for much, you know? I'm willing to give you everything I can and all I want in return, is your honesty and most importantly, your loyalty."

You nodded as you tried to calm down again. "I love you, but I can't tell you, you really have to trust me with this." he scoffed "You want me to simply trust you, after you just lied to me?"

You nodded erratically "Are you scared of me?" You shook your head as you blinked rapidly. Of course you weren't scared of Nate, you’re sure he'd never hurt you. But he was so scary in this moment that you didn’t know how to handle it.

"Then why don't you tell me what's going on?" He asked, even more irritated than before. You sighed as you tried to come up with an excuse, so desperate to keep the party a secret for as long as possible. "Okay.. um.." you started as you suddenly got an idea.

"The thing is, I had an appointment yesterday and I didn't want to tell you because.." you trailed off once Nate scoffed "Stop fucking lying, Y/n!" he raised his voice at you, causing you to flinch as he started to lose his patience and his temper.

Nate gripped both of your arms firmly, but not tight enough to hurt you. You flinched once again as you looked up at him. "I know you met up with Max." you shook your head rapidly as you remembered Max's words.

"Please don't let Nate beat my ass if he finds out we went out alone."

Nate laughed in disbelief before his grip tightened on you, causing you to whimper in fear. "I saw you, okay? I saw you get out of his fucking car, so don't fucking lie to me!" he shouted.

You furrowed your brows in confusion. What did he mean by that? Did he see you get out of his car when you two went to the mall, or when he drove you home?

Was he.. waiting in front of your house? No, you were sure he wouldn't do that.

"You saw me get out of his car? Were you following me?" you asked in disbelief.

Shit.

Nate looked to the side for a moment to regain his composure "I meant, I saw you get into his car. Of course I didn't follow you, you never gave me a reason to." he said in a calmer tone this time "But when you're fucking lying to me, to meet up with another guy, I might have to do it, no?"

You looked to the ground again "Did he touch you?" you shook your head "Did you touch him?" you shook your head again. He wanted to believe you, but your desperate attempts to hide the truth really messed with him.

He swung you around, pushing your back into the wall and knocking your breath away in the process. Your looked at him like a deer in headlights, as you tried to process what was happening. You didn't even notice how quick you were breathing because you were so fixated on Nate.

"You don't get how serious this is, do you?" he gritted his teeth "I told you about Maddy and how she cheated on me and-and you... you meet up with Max, behind my fucking back.. I mean, you know how that looks, right?" he rambled.

You felt your vision starting to blur slightly as you looked up at Nate "N-Nate-" you whimpered, and he scoffed in return "I mean, what is it? Does he treat you better or did you just get bored of me?" He asked furiously.

You breathed even heavier as you tried to keep your tears inside. "I didn't cheat on you!" you raised your voice, but it came out shaky. Nate nodded sarcastically "You think I believe that after you lied to me?"

You sighed "I'm sorry for lying to you, but you can't actually think I-" Nate removed one hand from your arm, before delivering a punching to the wall next to your head, causing you to whimper and close your eyes. "Then just tell me what happened between you two!" he roared.

You shakily exhaled "Nate, please.. You're scaring me." you pleaded desperately, and all he did was clench his jaw "You told me you're not scared of me earlier, was that also a lie?" he retorted.

"I didn't cheat on you, I love you and I would never do something like that to you." you started again "You know... how long it took for me that day, to even be able to... get naked in front of you." you sobbed, feeling embarrassed as your mind went back to that day. "Do you really think, I'd just.. cheat on you with a boy I barely even know?" you sniffled.

Nate chuckled, unable to contain his bitterness "I mean who knows, maybe that was an act as well." He snarled.

Your heart broke into pieces, the weight of his words heavy on you. Not only because he didn't believe you, but because you struggled so much to allow him to get this close to you, to see everything of you and now he seemed to make fun of you.

You tried to break free from his grip as you were about to cry, and didn't want him to see. But Nate was obviously stronger, almost smiling as you thrashed in his grip. "What is it, am I right?" He taunted as his other hand returned to your arm.

You shook your head as your lip trembled, not daring to speak because you knew it would come out in sobs. "C'mon, tell me, are you angry because I'm right?" He asked again.

Nate didn't notice how far he went, not even when he heard your silent cries. To him, it seemed like a confession rather than a denial.

He was sure you were crying because he caught you.

You felt yourself getting more and more lightheaded, mostly because of your irregular breathing which resulted in a lack of oxygen. "I.. never cheated on you!" you raised your voice once again. "I met up with him, yes. But.. that doesn't mean I cheated." you tried to sound as coherent as you could in the current situation.

You gripped his arms as a tear rolled down your cheeks. "Let go of me!" you yelled, as you tried to break free once again. He frowned as he looked down at you, still convinced that you were in the wrong. He leaned in closer, as his eyes bored into yours, before he whispered "What were you doing in his car then?"

Nate was torn between his anger towards you for breaking his trust, and the twisted and dark part of him which reveled in your tears which slowly started to spill, knowing that he caused them.

You sighed before you looked into his dark eyes, your brows furrowed in anger "I planned a surprise with him, for your fucking birthday, okay?" you spat as tears continued to well up in your eyes.

Nate fell silent as his thoughts went back to the messages Max had sent you. It actually made sense, for the first time he actually felt like you told the truth.

His grip on you softened slightly, and you used the chance to remove his hands from your arms before you pushed him away and sank onto the floor.

He looked down at you "... Seriously?" he asked softly. You sobbed as you harshly opened your bag before your shaky hands tried their best to grab and unlock your phone. Tears rolled down your face, as you couldn't contain them anymore.

Once you unlocked it and opened Max's chat, you held it towards Nate "Take it!" you wailed. He slowly took your phone, reading through the chat as he felt his heart sink more and more with each message.

Some even showing how excited you were to ‘finally do something for your boyfriend’, since you felt like you weren't good enough after he always made you gifts and you never gave him anything back.

He could feel your love just through the texts you sent Max, and it made him want to throw the phone away and scream in agony. Not only because he was so wrong, but also because of how awful he treated you, his sweet girl, his everything.

You continued to cry and breathe heavily, as you felt your chest tighten more and more. You never expected Nate to push you, or talk to you like this. He never got this rough with you, not even when you were just friends.

It shattered the image you had of him.

"Fuck..." he breathed out before he closed your phone and rubbed his face in disbelief, looking down at you with regret in his eyes.

He crouched down next to where you cowered, next to his door. You hid your face behind your arms as you continued to cry and hyperventilate. You felt like everything you saw of Nate was an act that he put on, in order to lure you in.

He reached his hand out to stroke your arm. "I'm so sorry... fuck, I don't even know what to-" You slapped his hand away "Don't.. touch... me." you choked out.

Nate was taken aback, not used to you talking to him like that, or slapping his hand away for that matter. Under any other circumstances he would be pissed and try to assert his dominance over you.

Not like he wasn’t pissed already, but more at himself for losing control, and not at you. He was supposed to protect you and make you feel safe with him, not repeat his old mistakes.

Right now he just wanted to scoop you up, and hold you close when he noticed you were sobbing on his floor, completely scared and shaken.

He went too far, way too far.

He had to fix it, and he had to think quickly because everything depended on this moment. If he made one more wrong move, everything could shatter into pieces right now.

Your tears continued to fall, as you slowly tried to get up again. You were torn, because you wanted to leave, be alone and think about what just happened, and at the same time you needed someone who holds you and comforts you, before you actually break down again.

Once you stood on your shaky legs, you reached out, snatching your phone from his grasp. Without another glance his direction you took small steps towards the door, ready to unlock it and leave.

"What are you doing?" Nate panicked as he walked in front of you. You flinched at the sound of his voice, which caused him to frown, once he realized that you were actually scared of him.

But Nate would never let you leave like this.

Not only because he was actually scared to lose you right now, but mostly because he saw how shaky your legs were and how disturbed you looked. He couldn't let you leave alone like this, it was dangerous.

"I'm leaving.." you sniffled as you walked past him. He wanted to hug you and hold you close, but he was so scared to touch you. Almost afraid he'd break you or push you further away from him.

"Y/n, please, let me explain-" he stopped when you looked up at him, your eyes red and glassy, your make-up smudged and your cheeks stained with dark tears, a result of your mascara and eyeliner. You looked broken.

"Do you know... how fucking hard it was for me to trust you?" You asked as new tears were threatening to spill "I.. can't believe you actually considered.. that I put on an act in front of you. After everything I tried, to be.. perfect for you." you added. "I.. thought you were the only person in my life.. who would never hurt me!"

You suddenly broke down in tears, as the wall you so desperately tried to hold crumbled. Nate was taken aback when you raised your voice at him and cursed. He wasn't used to hearing you talk like that, and it made him realize even more how deeply upset you were.

"I know, and I'm so sorry.. I never should've said that, please, just let me hold you." he softly offered "I can tell that you're not okay right now, and I know that it's my fault, but I can assure you it's never gonna happen again."

He wanted to believe what he had just promised you, but he knew that another argument like this was bound to happen sometime. Either because you were too gullible around men, or because he was unable to keep the control he had over you.

Now that he’s seen you actually fight with him, he knew you weren’t going to stay as obedient as you were anymore. You actually talked back, defended yourself and stood your ground against him. Something he hadn’t considered up until this moment.

He took notice of how you gasped for air as you continued to cry. "Please let.. let me take care of you, yeah?" he carefully asked as he took a step closer "I'm not a monster, you don't have to be afraid of me.." he reminded you.

Once he was close enough, he carefully placed a hand on your shoulder in order to test if you'd push him away again. When you shuddered, he took a step closer and wrapped his arms around you, making sure to not hold you too tight, since you already seemed to be suffocating.

He's seen Maddy cry, he's seen Cassie cry, but nothing compared to seeing you cry. He hated himself for making you feel like this, and he hated himself even more for feeling a strange sense of satisfaction at your display of vulnerability earlier.

You just looked so pretty, even when you cried. "Shh.. it's okay, can you breathe with me?" He asked once he noticed you still hadn't calmed down. When you didn't respond and continued to gasp for air, he almost started to panic as well.

Nate couldn't understand how one confrontation was all it took for you to get a panic attack. But he was determined to regain control of you and the situation at hand.

In his eyes he had every right to assume you cheated on him, after you lied about going out with Max and after the messages he saw in the preview. But he also understood that you were upset, because his choice of words might’ve hurt you.

Not to mention, you planned this surprise for him because you loved him, and only him, and all he did was yell at you to tell him the truth, instead of simply trusting you in the first place.

Your heart pounded in your chest, as you tried to focus on anything but the overwhelming panic that consumed you. Your hands trembled uncontrollably, and you felt a wave of nausea hit you like a truck. The room seemed to spin, the walls closing in on you.

"Hey, look at me what's wrong?" he asked as his hands moved back to your shoulders. You looked up at him as you felt like your head was spinning. You weren't sure how to tell him what you needed, but you could see worry written all over his features.

"I.. I need to.. breathe.. fuck..." you croaked, panic visible on your features "I need air.." you added. Nate cursed under his breath as he realized you were actually having a full-blown panic attack. He had to distract you and calm you down, but he didn't know how.

He took a deep breath himself, as he closed his eyes, before opening them again "Y/N, please... breathe with me," he urged, his voice shaky yet soothing. "In through your nose, out through your mouth. Just follow my breath."

But his words barely registered in your mind, your thoughts racing too fast, too loud, to pay attention to anything. The mistrust, the fear of losing him, the shame of your perceived betrayal— it all pressed down on you, it nearly suffocated you.

Nate watched, helpless and horrified, as you cried in front of him. With each passing moment he saw the damage he had caused more and more, and it terrified him. He reached out again, more gently this time as he tried to comfort you.

Nate realized that mere words wouldn't be enough to undo the pain he had caused. He had to show you somehow, that he could be the person you needed. And he needed to gain control over the situation. Nate took another deep breath, trying to steady his own racing heart, and slowly moved closer to you.

He gently rubbed his thumbs over your shoulders, his touch light and hesitant. "Y/n, look at me," he said softly. "Focus on me, okay? Just on me." His voice was low and calming, a stark contrast to his earlier tone.

You hesitated, your vision still blurred with tears, but the sincerity in his voice made you look up. Nate's eyes were filled with regret and concern, completely different to the way he looked at you before.

"That's it," he whispered encouragingly, his thumb continued to brush your shoulder in a soothing rhythm. "Just keep looking at me. We're going to get through this together."

Nate took another deep breath, exaggerating the action to show you what he wanted you to do. "In through your nose, out through your mouth," he repeated, his eyes never leaving yours. "Just like this."

You tried to mimic his breathing, struggling at first but gradually falling into a more regular rhythm. Nate continued to guide you, his voice steady and reassuring. "Yeah just like that. Just keep breathing with me. It'll pass, I promise."

He gently reached for your hand, lacing his fingers with yours, in an attempt to ground you. "I'm here," he murmured. "I'm not going anywhere... and I never meant to hurt you."

You sniffled as you nodded rapidly. "We'll talk about it and get through this, right?" he asked, needing your reassurance this time, to which you nodded again. "Everything's gonna be fine again, just breathe." he instructed.

Gradually, the panic began to go away, your breaths coming more evenly. Nate's steady presence, his genuine regret, and his undevided attention helped steady you, pulling you back from the edge.

"Thank you," you whispered, your voice still shaky but more coherent. Nate nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. "I'll always be here for you. Always."

Nate knew that this was just the beginning of a long journey to rebuild what he had broken. But for now, he was focused on you, on making sure you were okay, and on showing you that he could be the man you needed right now.

He slowly pulled you into his arms, nearly clinging onto you as he sighed in relief "I love you so much.. don't ever forget that, yeah?" he pressed a tender kiss onto your head "I can't lose you.. That's why I got so angry. I shouldn't have said all those things.." he reasoned.

You nodded slowly as you inhaled his scent, which always made you feel so safe. You inhaled sharply one more time as you closed your eyes, feeling incredibly exhausted and lethargic, after your adrenaline level dropped back to normal.

Nate took notice of your physical state, sensing that you probably want to rest and feel comfortable again. He gently pulled back and cupped your face, his thumb brushing away the lingering tears. "Let's get you cleaned up, okay?" he said softly, his voice filled with genuine affection.

You nodded slowly, too drained to argue or protest. Nate slowly removed the bag from your shoulder before placing it down next to the door. Then he led you to the bathroom, his arm wrapped around your waist.

Once inside, he carefully sat you down on the edge of his cabinet. He grabbed a washcloth and dampened it with warm water, then gently began wiping away the remains of your smudged makeup from your face. His touch was surprisingly gentle.

As he worked, he kept murmuring praises. "You're so beautiful... I never want to see you like that again. I'm here for you." His voice was soothing for your nerves, and you were starting to relax as you let him take care of you.

After he had cleaned your face, he slowly stood up from his crouching position before he left the room for a few seconds, and you hated how you already felt lonely.

He came back shortly after with one of his soft, oversized shirts in his hand. "Here, put this on. You'll feel more comfortable," he suggested, handing it to you. You took the shirt with a grateful nod, and slowly started to change, your movements shaky from exhaustion.

Nate averted his eyes respectfully, giving you a moment of privacy. Once you were dressed in his shirt, which smelled faintly of him and brought a sense of comfort, he helped you back to his bed.

You crawled under the covers, feeling the softness envelop you, and Nate slipped in next to you, unsure whether or not you wanted him to pull you close.

When you opened your eyes and looked at him like you were about to cry again, he scooted slightly closer, once you extended your arm and wrapped it around his waist, your body trembling ever so slightly.

He hated himself for feeling a sense of relief wash over him. He should feel awful for making you feel like this in the first place, and deep down he did, but he couldn't help but feel glad that you were clinging onto him.

He was scared he had lost you for a moment, but now he was more than sure that his small outburst pulled you closer to him.

He wrapped his arms around you securely, his warmth and steady heartbeat making you feel safe again. "I'm here, yeah? Just rest now," he whispered, pressing another kiss to your forehead. "I've got you."

You nestled against him, your eyelids growing heavy. The exhaustion began to take over, and you felt yourself drifting off, surrounded by Nate's protective embrace. For the first time since the argument, you felt at peace, knowing he was there with you.

While you started drifting off to sleep however, Nate already contemplated what he'd do about Max. Sure, you two weren't secretly cheating, but he couldn't shake the feeling, that Max was a threat to your relationship nonetheless.

He still had to make sure that Max wouldn't tell you anything about Nate's past, and even if Nate would never admit it, he was insecure, and he was overthinking everything Max did. For example, why would he help you throw Nate a birthday party? They weren't that close, so what if Max was using it as an excuse to get close to you?

Of course you wouldn't notice it, you were too oblivious, even when Nate used to openly flirt with you back when you were just friends. God, he wished he could go through your messages with Max one more time, to search for possible hints that prove Max didn't only have good intentions.

But he obviously couldn't just ask you, he promised something like earlier would never happen again, and despite knowing that it would happen again, sooner or later, he couldn't just ask you about it this soon.

He decided to let you rest for now and take matters into his own hands once the time was right.

Once you opened your eyes, you noticed the soft light of the setting sun, which illuminated Nate's room. You had no idea how long you were asleep and once you tried to move, but felt the restriction of Nate's arm around you, you remembered what or who caused you to sleep in the first place.

You sighed softly as your mind went back to all the things Nate said. You know that he didn't mean it, and that he was just driven by anger. But the fact that he totally discredited your feelings during all of this, bothered you. And the way he shoved you into his wall, before punching it, scared you as well.

However, you assumed that his fear was mostly induced by the things that happened between him and Maddy.

Not to mention, that his anger wasn’t something he could control. You knew he didn’t do it on purpose, and you weren’t particularly angry at him. You just hoped that he’d work on that in the future, not only for your sake, but for his as well.

Your gaze shifted towards his face, taking in how peaceful he looked right now. You wished he could always be like this.

Once you tried to free yourself from his embrace, he subconsciously tightened his grip on you, causing you to fall flush against his chest. He slowly stirred awake, before opening his eyes and looking at you.

You both didn't know how to react, the tension thick in the air. But once you smiled softly at him, he started to relax, letting out a breath he didn't know he was holding, before smiling back at you.

"How're you?" he asked, his voice thick with sleep. You sighed before sliding out of his grip and sitting up in his bed. "I'm better, my head just hurts a little bit, but that's fine..." you trailed off as you looked to the side.

Once silence set in, he sighed and stroked your thigh gently "I'm sorry about earlier.. I don't know what came over me." he said, his tone soft as he tried to appear as sad and regretful as possible.

"It's just.. Maddy, she ruined my trust and I was so sure you'd never betray me, which you clearly didn't, but when I saw all these signs, I was so sure that you did and I just snapped.." he ranted.

You could see the distress on his face and it made you frown, since you could see the sincerity in his eyes. "I'm so sorry you had to go through that.." you responded.

He was so glad that you didn't push him away, and accepted his apology. But he needed reassurance, any kind of reassurance that you wouldn't leave him. "It's fine.. I just want you to know, that if I ever get angry at you, I don't mean it like that, yeah? I just can't control myself sometimes and.. fuck.." he sighed, before he continued "I'm just so scared to lose you, I don't know how to handle it."

You sighed in response "Nate, you won't lose me just because I'm meeting up with other people, you know?" you carefully explained, to which he nodded.

That wasn't the reassurance he was hoping for though.

He wanted you to tell him you're never going to leave him, that you were his and that you'd stay far away from everyone else guys. "Yeah, sure it's just.. I need you, y/n. I don't think I could live without you." he said in an unusually emotional tone, almost as if he was about to cry, secretly hoping he’d be more successful if he showed you how desperate he truly was.

You stroked caressingly through his hair, in an attempt to calm him down. "Nate, I'm not gonna leave you, okay? I've seen you get angry before, and I know that it's not your fault.." His ears perked up at that. It wasn't his fault? That had to be the first time he heard someone say that.

He looked up at you "What do you mean it's not my fault?" you shrugged "I just don't think you do it on purpose..” When Nate still looked up at you, you elaborated.

“I know you don't really wanna talk about your dad, and that's totally fine, but I know that he causes a lot of your anger. I see how stressed you get because of him and the pressure of being perfect at everything.”

As if on command, his sad expression was replaced with a different one. Almost as if he was in awe, or moved by your words. No one ever seemed to acknowledge the pressure he had to endure, everyone only blamed him for everything he did.

His thoughts were racing, as you once again surprised him with your understanding nature. He didn’t expect that reaction, or to feel so understood and surprisingly warm. He couldn’t help but think about all the ways he could use your sympathy, to keep you close to him.

“You.. really think so?” he asked hopeful, to which you nodded. “Of course, I can’t imagine what that must be like.. I mean my parents are nowhere near perfect either, but they never really pressured me into anything except for getting decent grades.” you chuckled.

“I.. never thought anyone would understand,” he frowned as leaned his head flush against your outer thigh. “everyone always blames me for everything.. But I don’t do it on purpose.” he continued. “I know.. It’s hard to control it.” you cooed as you continued to stroke his hair.

You were speaking from experience, having to fight against your anger as well, whenever your parents got on your nerves. It definitely wasn’t easy, and that’s why you understood where Nate was coming from.

While you continued to comfort Nate, he already calculated his next moves. He knew it was wrong, but he couldn’t help but wonder if this meant he could slip up from time to time, without losing you.

You technically just gave him permission to treat you like this, without being aware of it. And he was so proud, because you truly were perfect and you prove it over and over again.

After you two spent the weekend, you had to go back to school the following day. You obviously weren't aware of it, but Nate already planned to approach Max during their football training that day.

When Nate entered the locker room, most of his teammates were nearly ready, but Max wasn’t there yet.

Of course he didn’t plan to confront him in front of the other guys, even though he felt the urge to let everyone know, that they should stay the fuck away from you.

Once everyone was done and went ahead, Nate was still getting dressed, taking his time in case Max would still show up. Just then he indeed entered the locker room, his smile slowly fading when he looked around the room and noticed he was alone with none other than Nate.

Nate locked eyes with him, as he wondered what took him so long to get there. Was he meeting up with you again? It shouldn’t matter to him anymore, because now he knew you weren’t cheating on him. But he still didn’t want Max to spend more time with you than necessary.

“Hey..” Max greeted Nate, before hurrying and sitting down on the bench opposite from him. “What’s up..” Nate responded, his gaze basically glued onto him, as he laced up his cleats.

Max placed his bag onto the bench and sat down, starting to get ready as fast as possible. Not only because he arrived later than everyone else did, but also because he wanted to escape Nate.

“So,” Nate began, his voice surprisingly calm, almost friendly, which made Max feel even more uneasy. “You’ve been spending a lot of time with my girl lately, huh?”

Max’s hand froze inside his bag, as he looked towards Nate with the most neutral expression he could muster, but the hint of panic from before didn’t go unnoticed by Nate.

Max already expected Nate to confront him, after receiving your text on sunday, which informed him that he found out about everything. But that didn’t make it any easier for him.

He was also wondering, how he found out in the first place. You were hell-bent on keeping it a secret, so he could only assume that he caught on somehow and forced you to admit it.

He felt so sorry for you.

“Yeah, I guess you could say so..” he chuckled nervously, averting his gaze and rummaging through his bag. “You two get close? Maybe closer than you should?” he asked bitterly.

“Tell me, Max,” he said, standing up and stepping closer to him. “You think she’s pretty?” Max swallowed harshly, struggling to find the right words. He felt like Nate would get mad, no matter what he’d say.

“I mean, you spent enough time with her to notice. Those eyes, that smile… I’m sure anyone would get weak..” he paused, letting his words sink in. “Bet you even wondered what it’s like to be with her, right?”

Max’s discomfort was clearly visible, and Nate enjoyed every second of it, knowing he had the power to cause so much distress with so little effort.

“You know,” Nate added, as he took another step closer to Max, who looked at him with fear in his eyes. “She’s different, fucking perfect even. I know every inch of her, the way she moans when I touch her and the way she tastes, God..” Nate trailed off, enjoying the way Max seemed to squirm under his gaze.

“Listen Nate,” Max started cautiously, trying to keep eye contact but failing against Nate’s intense stare. “I-I don’t know what you think happened, but there’s nothing going on between me and Y/n. We were just-”

Max swallowed harshly, knowing that he was playing a dangerous game with him. He glanced around the locker room, hoping, no, praying that anyone would come in and interrupt their conversation.

“She asked me for help because it was important to her, and I thought you’d want me to support your girlfriend, so I said yes!” He explained himself to Nate “I swear, this was all about your birthday, I never would make any advances. I know she’s yours, man, everyone knows.” he continued.

“Y/n just wanted to make sure you have a great birthday, I really-” he paused, trying to interpret Nate’s reaction but all he got, was that same cold calculating gaze.

“And about what you said earlier,” Max added, “I-I’m not thinking about her like that. I mean, she’s your girlfriend and I respect that.”

Max clenched his fists, not out of aggression, but as a way to steady himself. He knew he stepped into dangerous territory –one wrong word could set Nate off.

When Nate still stared at him, Max sighed “Look, I’m sorry if I overstepped, I just wanted to help her –and you, of course.” he quickly added.

Nate smirked, as he finally averted his gaze. “Let’s say, you were just trying to help. That’s nice of you, really.” he finally responded, easing Max’s mind just slightly. “But you gotta understand, that it’s really suspicious, when my girlfriend meets up with another guy behind my back, no?”

Max quickly nodded in response “Yeah, of course.. that’s totally valid.” Nate nodded as well before continuing “And you also understand, that I don’t like to share my girlfriend with anyone, and that it’s my job as a man, to make sure everyone knows that, right?”

Max nodded as well “No, yeah, absolutely-” Nate chuckled “I mean, I’m not a fucking pussy. I gotta protect what’s mine.” he interrupted, causing Max to nod again.

Nate sighed, almost in relief, as he put on a smile which didn’t quite reach his eyes “Good, I’ll see you outside then.” he patted his shoulder, like the two just had a friendly conversation and as if Nate didn’t just scare the shit out of Max. He just nervously smiled back at him, as Nate left him behind so he could get dressed in peace.

Once he left the locker room, Max sighed before slumping down on the bench again. He hated how helpless Nate made him feel. And he hated it even more, that you had to end up with a prick like him.

He wanted to tell you what happened, finally warn you about him. But it wasn’t only dangerous, it was also too late. He knew that Nate had his way of swaying girls, and the way you talked about him when you two texted, just confirmed that.

He could only hope, that you’d see his evil side one day, and realize what he’s truly like.

✎ damn, this was intense😓 hope you guys enjoyed it though, and as always let me know what you thought about this part!! ♡

- Cassandra

Taglist:

@lilyrachelcassidy, @endless----love, @sophsss867, @jennnsthings, @digitalpup444, @vividfleur, @tsofo26, @lunalvrsblog, @sunshinedaisy21

[blackwidownat2814]

Steal My Thunder (T.Owens)

Pairing: Tyler Owens x female reader, Tyler Owens x shy!reader, Tyler Owens x insecure!reader

Word Count: 462

A/N: Welcome to my first Tyler Owens fic! I was throwing fic ideas around before I even saw the movie. I watched several interviews and other stuff on YouTube and took notes even. Then after seeing it the third time, I started working on this story. I don't anticipate this being a real long story, but I also will be a little slow to update because of work or writer's block or working on a crochet project I really need to finish. What I'm really saying is please be patient with me. Secondly, like in my other works, I'd planned to make this with a plus size!reader in mind, but I decided to go with insecure because I want to try and be a little more inclusive. Also, unless otherwise stated, my readers are always female readers. Lastly, I'm already working on Chapter 1, so keep an eye out for that. However, if you really like this, please let me know and I can tag you in future updates. And as always, I will be crossposting this to AO3. If you see this story anywhere besides AO3 or Tumblr, it's stolen Kthxbye! PS: Thanks to KJ & Jordyn for their help in beta-ing and title/chapter ideas! Love y'all!

Prologue

You were a Lead Meteorologist for the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration.  You should not be handling school age tour groups.  You were just about DONE with being treated like a secretary.  The rest of them thought that just because Kate was gone that they could go back to treating you like they did before her.

You were quiet, shy, and someone whose love language was acts of service, so you loved to help people out.  The problem was that your co-workers abused that part of you.  They asked to lead the school groups, bring everyone coffee, put together packets for meetings, etc.  Complete nonsense…and you were done.

It was then, as you mentally typed up your resignation, that you received a serendipitous call from Kate herself.

“I believe the sayin’ is ‘No man left behind’.”

“You’re not an US Army Ranger, B.”

“Yeah, well…”  You trailed off, not wanting to burden your friend with your issues.  Kate always told you that it was okay to talk to her when you needed someone, but you were stubborn.  You were very much of the ‘friends aren’t therapists’ mindset.

“Talk to me B.”

“I’m happy for you, ya know?  You’re back to doing’ something I know you loved.  I can see it in your eyes with each video or stream I watch.”

“Okay, keep your secrets…and thank you.  I am happy.”

“So…what can I do for ya?  Why are you botherin’ me on my lunch hour?”

“Damn!  Sorry about that B.”

“You know I don’t actually care.  Tell me what’s up.”

“I’m callin’ with a job off-”

“I’ll take it.”

“Woah, I haven’t even said what it-”

“I don’t care.  Ever since you left, and because I’m a huge push over, everyone’s been walking all over me.  You know I had to do three tours today?”

“We’ve talked about this.”

“I know Kate.  Just…what’s the job anyway?”  Your friend was silent for a moment, before you heard her exhale.

“It’s storm data analysis really.”

“Elaborate.”

“We’re trying to really get down to the nitty gritty with the data from the EF-5 we got to dissipate last season and see where to improve, how to catalog it in our info database, etc.”

“I’m in”, you said.  “Y’all won’t treat me like some secretary, I’ll be close to home again, and I’ll get to spend all my time with you.”

“We most definitely will not treat you like some secretary.  We’re equal opportunity storm chasers out here.”

You tossed your empty sandwich bag into the trash and pulled up Word to start drafting your resignation letter.

“Say, what are the benefits as a Tornado Wrangler?”  Before Kate could reply, you heard Boonie baby! Woo! in the background.

With that enthusiasm, what could possibly go wrong?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tagging: @buckysdollforlife @13braincellsonly

[byechristopher]

can you make a chris make up sex??? please

Make it up to me.

– CHRIS STURNIOLO SMUT, FLUFF.

Author's note: love me some good make-up sex – sorry I took so long to respond! Thank you for the request, dear. Hope you like this. Do not copy/steal my work. :)

Warnings: smut smut smut. Minors dni! Didn't proof-read!

"I feel a little neglected lately." my voice is timid but I let a little sigh of relief leave my lips.

I am not used to speaking about my emotions loudly like this, expressing them so freely, let alone in front of Chris. He is my boyfriend but I've always had trouble doing that – it's something I've been trying to fix for a while now.

"Neglected?" he has a tone in his voice that I don't appreciate and I am already regretting my decision to speak my mind, "I don't have time to fucking rest, what are you talking about?" he scoffs and leans back, one of his hands still grab the steering wheel and he sighs, fluffing his hair up with his free hand.

"Just forget it." I roll my eyes, leaning back against the car seat as well, glancing out the window, "forget I even said anything."

"Don't play that card now." I can feel his eyes on me but I refuse look at him.

"I'm not playing any cards. Would you rather have me not telling you anything? Because you know damn well I can do that." I shrug, finally looking at him.

"No, I don't want that. But you're being irrational." his eyebrows are raised and so are his shoulders.

"And you're being rational?" I narrow my eyes, almost like challenging him, "I understand that you are busy but when I tell you I fucking feel neglected, I'm expecting.. I don't know.. maybe a little bit of affection?" I cross my arms, "or is that not possible? To ask that from my relationship?"

"Stop being like this. You just have to understand me! I just don't have time!" he tries to defend himself but every time, he just says something that pisses me off even more.

"Well, that's your fucking problem, Chris. Because I'm working a lot too, you know? But I always make time for you, no matter how exhausted I am. And that's what relationships are about! Making constant sacrifices for each other." I try to explain as much as possible, "and I do understand you, I've been patient for a long time but now it's your turn."

"Well I never fucking complained about you being busy!" he knows he's just saying irrarional bullshit now.

"You never had to! Because I've actually got my shit together. You never had the chance to feel neglected." I stare into his eyes, "oh and also, what I just did, was not complaining. It's called 'expressing my goddamn feelings', something that you're terrible at, even more than me."

And with that, I get out of the car, quickly taking out the keys so I can open our apartment door. He makes me so angry sometimes – he is the best boyfriend in the world, but sometimes, he just doesn't get it.

Hours pass by and we haven't said a single word to each other; I refuse to speak to him, until he understands that he has to make sacrifices too. I can't always just chase him around, taking a step back just to avoid conflict.

A knock on the door of our bedroom is what wakes me up from my own thoughts, "can I come in?"

"Yes, you can."

Chris opens the door and takes a careful glance of me – I am just laying on the bed, under the covers, I am only in my underwear and a t-shirt just to be comfortable. He sighs and lifts the covers so that he can lay beside me, cupping my cheek so gently, his touch is careful and timid.

"I needed some time to think about what you said. And I wanted to apologise." he whispers, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, "you're right. You're working a lot too, but you always make time for me and I am very grateful for that."

I don't say anything, I notice that he's still thinking, just waiting for him to continue.

"I don't want to make any excuses but I felt very overwhelmed lately because of work, and I didn't want to admit it. I haven't been able to sit down and actually try to manage my schedule but I promise to work on it immediately." he smiles apologetically.

"Baby, I know you didn't do it on purpose." I sigh, "but when I tell you how I'm feeling, I need you to try to understand before getting defensive."

"I know and you are right. It was the part of me that didn't want to admit that I'm actually so busy, so tired and so awful at trying to fit everything in my schedule. This is why I got defensive. Next time I will be better, though." he says and I nod, leaning into his touch, rubbing my cheek against his palm.

"I know you will. We all do mistakes. Thank you for taking your time to think about it." I grin and he wraps an arm around my waist – I waste no time, I immediately press my body against his.

"Of course, baby. I needed to be sure before I come and find you." he sighs and hugs me tightly, sneaking his leg in between mine. I smile and lean in to place a kiss on his lips.

He keeps talking but I am too focused on his lips, or the leg between my legs, or the hands that hold my waist. I listen to what he says but I can feel my arousal burning me. My thighs squeeze his leg and my lips rub themselves against his – I stick my tongue out to lick his bottom lip and that's when he takes the hint.

"What are you doing there, hm?" he hums, his fingers gripping my sides a little harder now.

"I think you need to make it up to me, no? For making me wait all this time while you were thinking." I murmur, my lips going from his lips to his cheek, to his chin and then finally his neck.

He groans and pulls his sweatpants down, not wanting to lose any time either. He places his leg between mine again and I press my clothed pussy against his thigh, making him feel my wetness as I start to rub myself against him.

"I'll make it up to you as many times as you want." he bites down his bottom lip as he slowly takes my shirt off. He's only wearing his boxers and I'm wearing my panties, we're still under the covers.

He grips my waist and I start to fully grind on him, rocking my hips, moving them back and forth on his thigh, "Chris. I want you." I whisper and he smiles.

"I can feel it." he whispers and leans in to take my earlobe in his mouth, sucking on it, moaning into my ear as he sneaks a finger between his thigh and my pussy, rubbing it while still putting pressure with his leg.

I almost whine at how much wetter he made me in just one second, and I travel my hand down his body to grab his clothed dick, taking it out to wrap my fingers around it, rubbing up and down his shaft.

He moans and I can feel his body shaking a little bit – he leans in and takes my nipple in his mouth, groaning around it and biting it gently. I gasp and tug on his hair. He grabs his own cock and brings it closer to my pussy, rubbing the tip of it against my panties, making it even wetter.

"Mmm, Chris.." moaning, I wrap my arms around him, trying to rub myself against his cock as much as possible.

With his fingers, he pushes my panties to the side and starts rubbing the tip of his wet cock against my clit, making sure to run it over my entrance, collecting my juices and then rubbing them all over my clit again.

"Please fuck me already, I am ready for you." I whine, I want to scream how much I want him right now.

He moans at my words and completely takes my panties off. He grabs my leg and hooks his arm under my knee, keep my leg lifted as he teases my pussy. He finally pushes inside of me and I lose it – I couldn't believe I could get any more wet, but apparently I can.

"Shit, baby.. you're so wet and warm." he moans, burying his face into my neck to press kisses all over my skin. His thrusts are gentle and slow as he fucks into me with love, while bruising my skin with kisses at the same time.

I moan and cup his cheeks, making him look at me before attacking his lips with passionate kisses. He grabs the leg that he's been lifting up again, making me wrap it around his waist as he rolls over to his back, making me get on top of him while still being inside of me.

"Fuck.. yes.. like this.." I whisper in his ear – I am completely laying on top of him, my breasts pressed against his chest, my legs on either side of him, my face buried in his neck and my hands grabbing his hair.

I can hear him moaning my name as he starts picking up the pace, fucking me a little harder this time – his hands are on my buttcheeks, squeezing them and spreading them as he pushes his cock in and out.

"Hell.. I don't think I can last any longer, baby girl.." he curses under his breath and moans into my ear softly, heavy breathing, placing a soft kiss on it.

"I'm gonna cum.." I warn, too, my pussy clenching around him as I feel him lifting my body up and down – I am at his mercy, completely.

"Mhmm, cum on my dick." he whispers and I let out a loud moan, tugging on his hair again. My body is trembling as he gives my butt a little smack and that's all it takes for me to cum with a loud moan of his name.

He groans and starts thrusting into me with a much faster pace, his fingers digging into the skin of my ass as he finally cums inside of me with a loud moan as well. I can feel him filling me up and my eyes roll to the back of my head.

We sit there in silence for quite a while, "I love make-up sex." I mumble against his shoulder and he laughs.

"I love you." he whispers, he hasn't moved an inch, still inside of me.

"Good, I love you too. Let me stay like this for a while."

[flippinpancakes64]

cullens coming in on the reader crying

The Cullens walking in on you crying

Sorry that this took so long, I literally got in a car crash. I guess that's what I get for deciding to write fanfic.

For right now, my requests are closed as I am currently trying to catch up :'(

Anyway here's your story! Thank you for being patient and I hope you like it!

Edward:

Unless he was away from home, you wouldn't have even been able to think sad thoughts before he was right behind you

But assuming he was away and didn't notice your turmoil until he was close to the home, he is instantly by your side

When he goes up to your room and sees you curled up on your shared bed, he is instantly worried

Frantically scanning your mind for every possible thing that could have made you as upset as you are right now

If it was a person, his first thought is violence

If someone said something to you, he is instantly flying out of the house and hunting them down

He gets so blinded by rage that he doesn't even stop to think that you might just want comfort at that moment

So unless you can call out to him before he can leave, you're gonna have to wait until he comes back

But after he comes back, or if this was never about a person in the first place, he is instantly holding you

Rubbing your arms, petting your hair, whispering words to you

After you've calmed down he's asking you what you need

Your favorite food? Your favorite movie? You want to go out somewhere? You name it, he'll do it

Won't leave your side the rest of the night

Alice:

I get the sense that she's a bit clingy

So just the fact that you were able to be alone long enough to cry without her noticing is a one in a million chance

Unlike Edward she does not resort to violence, however

In a flash she is by your side, petting your hair, drying your tears, and asking you what's wrong

No matter what the issue is, she will stay by your side

She already has your favorite takeout on the way, your favorite movie on the TV, your favorite drink in a cup beside you, and your favorite pajamas neatly folded waiting for you to change

She will spend the whole night talking to you softly, braiding/messing with your hair (or just running her fingers through it if it's not long enough), and telling jokes she knows you'll laugh at

Doesn't leave your side

She doesn't even make you get up early to spend forever choosing the perfect outfit for you the next day

If it was a person who was making you sad, she goes out of her way to walk you to classes where she knows you'll see them

If they try anything in the future she is not afraid to stand up for you

Jasper:

He senses your mood change from a mile away

Like literally

He is out on a hunt with Emmett and he feels your mood change and he can feel the tears falling from your eyes

Jaguar or whatever the hell he had be damned he is running home

Wastes no time in going to your side

Asks what's wrong and then calmly listens

He brushes away the tears from your eyes and holds you in his arms as you let it all out

He'll make little snarky comments if this was about someone being mean

Is your 'yes' man

"I just want him to die!" "I completely agree, darlin'"

Again he is your personal servant for the night

Food, movie, drive around town going at least 100 mph

You name it, it's done

He's also not one to get violent, though

He knows his own limits

He is still very sensitive to blood

Is not willing to put their whole livelihoods at risk just to put some douche in their place

Rosalie:

As soon as she heard the first sob, she was up the stairs and in your room

Instantly cradling you, holding your head, giving you kisses on the cheeks, doing anything to calm you down

Once you finally muster up the words to say what happened, she is shushing you

After you explain, I mean

She doesn't want you just mumbling on and on

Because now she's in 'fix it' mode

Is running you a nice, warm bath with candles and bath bombs and everything

She cooks you something warm and nice

Puts on your favorite show or movie and lays next to you until you fall asleep

But if someone did this to you...

As soon as you're asleep she is up and out of the house

She might enlist the help of Emmett or Edward

Their tires are slashed, all of their shampoo is Nair, all of their clothes have been shrunk in the wash, etc.

She wouldn't tell you what she did

That's her little secret ;)

Emmett:

He gets a little scared at first

He doesn't really know how to deal with crying and really big emotions

I mean the biggest emotions he's ever felt were hunger and fear

Either way as soon as he hears you crying he is done with whatever else he was doing and is by your side

He sort of just.. sits there

He's rubbing your back and trying to be supportive and a listening ear

He will let all of your tears soak his shirt he does not care

Once you calm down enough you're gonna have to be the one to ask him to do things

Don't be scared to ask, he will do anything you want

He will ask you if you want him to go beat up the person who made you sad (if that's what happened)

But that's only half a joke

If you say no and laugh he'll laugh too

But once you're asleep....

He is out the door

That person is legitimately missing the next day

Police cannot find their body

Or any sign of them at all

Esme:

Ultimate comforter

She walked into the house after going grocery shopping for prop food for the house when she sees you

I feel like she would try to give you your space first

She would go up to you and ask if you're okay, but if you don't immediately say something she would quietly leave

When she was going through her own human heartbreaks all she wanted was to be alone

But she is on high alert

If you so much as whisper her name from all the way across the house she is there in an instant

Food, blankets, a board game, and maybe some wine if you're feelin it

She will help you make a blanket fort in the living room

(She also told everyone else to go away)

Listens intently and quietly while you explain everything that happened and why you're crying

If it's because of a self esteem issue she could start crying herself if she could

She thinks you are the most perfect person in the world

However if someone else did this to you I feel like she would have all of the tea

"What did you say their name was again? I recognize that last name, their mom was a hoe"

Carlisle:

He's really quiet about it

He doesn't want to intrude

So when he comes home and goes into his office to see you curled up on his chair crying he just leaves again

He slips a note to come into his room whenever you feel like it

When you get in there he has the bed all set up with pillows and blankets

The TV is on playing one of those YouTube videos of a crackling fireplace

Warm food is sitting on a tray for you

And he is sitting in the middle reading a book as he waited for you

He is there with open arms and open ears

He's really good at reading people

If you just want someone to talk at and complain to, he will happily sit there silently

If you want explanations, someone to bounce ideas off of, or an active listening partner he can do that too

I'm sorry but if you spoke bad about yourself he'd hit you with some bullshit

"Well actually *insert thing here* was very fashionable and considered very attractive in *insert random era here*"

And if it was someone else who said something to you it would also be insufferable

"The way you're describing this person sounds like they might have *insert mental illness here*"

Your best bet is to just tell him to stop talking

Vampire! Bella:

This girl knows sadness

I mean she was like a stationary rock for three months when Edward left her

She knows it sucked being alone too

So when she hears you crying she is right by your side

She also might have grabbed some tissues on her way

And oh she might have also grabbed the bowl of candy that Esme uses as decoration

And wow that's crazy she picked up your favorite sweatshirt of hers how weird

She is the ultimate yes man

If someone said something to you she chimes in about how she hates them too

If you're crying due to a self esteem issue she shoots that down immediately

If you're crying because of a movie she starts talking about how if she was human that movie would have made her cry too

The queen of yappersville

She could talk you to sleep

And tbh she probably does

The next day, if it was someone at school who made you cry, she gets all up in their face

Like I'm talking middle of the school hallway like "so I heard you had some things to say to my partner here yesterday, why don't you say them to me now?"

People are a little scared of her now

But at least no one messes with you anymore :)

[number1jeonginstan]

Hi! I was wondering if you could write a story in which hyunjin overstimulates y/n? And if you want, could you make y/n sensible and scared? Ty! I love your writing btw!

A/N: Sorry for taking so long to get this out, I’ve been kind of in a slump for writing and then I got the idea for what I should do because I was kinda struggling for a minute. I hope you liked it and I’m so thankful for the request! Thank you so much for your time and patience, I really appreciate it.

WC: 1.25k

Pairing: Hyunjin x (established relationship) afab!reader

Minors don't interact, 18+

Warnings: SMUT, overstimulation, some light slapping, good girl, baby, use of that stuff, idk what else tbh this was written at like 1 am

It was a lazy day between you and Hyunjin. Both still in your pajamas, you in silk shorts and one of his t-shirts, and him in his matching yellow and white checkered pajamas. You enjoyed this new mystery novel on his bed while he painted in his studio. It was the comfort of being next to one another that you had no idea what was yet to come. 

As you turned to the next page in your book, Hyunjin got up coming towards you. “Wanna have sex?” He asked, lying down next to you on the bed. You barely paid attention to him, too immersed in your book, simply humming. 

“Come on” he groaned lifting his head to you, “I need you baby” he huffed, still not eliciting a reaction from you. To try and get any reaction out of you, he began to run his fingers on your thighs. 

Ts when he ran his fingers along your thighs, placing wet kisses along your smooth thigh. “Jinnie, please” you whined “I want to finish this chapter, they are about to say who did it” 

“Wow, a book is more interesting than fucking your insanely hot boyfriend?” 

“Right now, yes!” you giggled, finishing reading the page you were on. Before you could even turn the page, he snatched the book out of your hand. “Don’t you dare fold the corner” you yelled, trying to snatch the book back. He giggled adding the bookmark he made you as a gift to mark the page. He got up and placed the book on his easel, far from your reach. 

“Fine” you groaned, falling back onto the bed, your head hitting the pillow. He walked back to the bed, crawling on top of you so his thighs locked yours in place. He placed a kiss on your lips, causing a giggle to leave your lips.

He moved to your neck, kissing and nibbling at the spot that drove you crazy. You could slowly feel yourself getting wetter. “Jinnie, please stop teasing” you whined, rubbing your thighs together to get any sort of stimulation. “I need you” 

“Be patient baby, we have all the time in the world”

He kissed your lips once again, trying to savor your taste. He began to move down your body, lifting your (his) shirt slightly to kiss your stomach, slowly moving down to your shorts. Without hesitation, he pulled down your shorts and underwear, throwing them somewhere in your shared room. 

“Fuck baby, this pussy is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen” he ran his fingers across your folds, capturing your wetness and putting his finger in his mouth, licking it off his fingers. “And you taste even better” 

You moaned watching him, and before you could even say anything, he dove into your pussy. His plush lips kissed your clit as he slowly inserted one of his long fingers into your hole. You grabbed his hair in his hand, forcing him to eat you like a man starved, and he was happy to. 

He was licking every inch of your pussy, slowly inserting another finger to give you the extra stimulation you needed. His fingers were long, not as long as his cock, but longer than your own and he was skilled with them. It took him another minute for you to cum around his fingers, moaning his name as your walls clenched around them. 

He began to kiss down your thigh, his plush lips covered in your cum from eating you out. “Jinnie, please, need you” you whined.

“You are a greedy little girl aren’t you, just made you cum with my mouth and fingers, but you are still begging for my cock” 

He slapped your thigh lightly, moving so he was on top of you, in between your legs. “Fuck, you are such a slut” he groaned, pulling his already hard cock from the confines of his boxers. The tip was already red, pre-cum slowly dripping out of the tip.

“Who’s the slut now?” you giggled, trying to joke around, but it only made Hyunjin to tease you more. Before you could react, he grabbed your face, making you look directly into his eyes. “If you keep acting like this, I’m going to fuck you like the little whore you are” 

“Sure Hyunjin, you can try and do that” You rolled your eyes, knowing that your boyfriend would never “fuck” you. Whenever the two of you had sex, he always liked to describe it as making love. He was someone who believed that sex was something that should be cherished. 

“Don’t test me baby, tonight you are going to be my cocksleeve” Before you could even react, he thrust his cock inside of you, not even giving you a warning. “How can you be such a whore and have such a tight pussy” 

You just moaned you had never seen him this way, and you were a bit scared, and your face reflected it. “Aww, baby don’t be scared, you’ll get to cum, don’t worry”

He nibbled on your ear softly, his pillow lips wrapping around your lobe as he continued to thrust into you. He slowly began to lift your legs slightly, signaling you to wrap your legs around his back, allowing him to hit that one spot inside your cunt.

“Such a good girl, moaning for my cock. Is it just that good?” 

He continued to thrust into you, not faltering his pace as he continued to abuse that one spot inside of you. All you could do was moan out in response. You were too fucked out, getting fucked too well to even understand the words coming out of his mouth. 

He slapped your face slightly, causing you to look up straight into his eyes. “I asked you a question, is my cock that good” 

“Yes Jinnie, your cock is the best I’ve ever had” you moaned out loud. He kissed your lips, muttering “good girl” on them, and with him thrusting into that one spot that made you whine, it was all you needed to cum. 

“Fuck baby, I can feel your walls clenching around me, but just because you came, doesn’t mean we are done” You whined, feeling overstimulated as he continued to abuse your pussy like there is no tomorrow. 

It all felt too much, him continuing to thrust into you even though you had just cum. You thrashed around slightly, not being able to take it. Just as you thought you were going to break, like the world around you was going to go black, he came inside of you, kissing your lips. 

You were still out of it as he quickly got up, getting a cloth to clean the cum that was spilling you out of with as well as a glass of water. “Baby, I need you to drink this” 

You just nodded, slowly drinking the glass of water that your boyfriend was holding in front of you. 

“Sorry if I was too rough, I just overheard you say that you wanted me to fuck you more often, I hope it was okay” 

He looked like a hurt puppy so you pulled him close to you, kissing his lips gently. “It was amazing Jinnie, but next time, give me some warning because I was scared shitless” 

He just giggled as he wrapped his arms around you as you both fell asleep together. Maybe not knowing the end of the book is worth it. 

[wcnderlnds]

alone together | jimmy darling

・❥・ summary: jimmy saves you from twisty and you end up catching feelings for him. ・❥・word count: 2.3k ・❥・warnings: 18+, nsfw. female reader, virgin!reader, p in v, unprotected sex, maybe some swearing, clown mentions. ・❥・ authors note: im still not super confident writing smut so we all gotta keep pretending its decent until i am thank u love u.

The damp smell of mould filled your nostrils, eyes straining to see through the bars you were held behind. It had been days since you’d eaten more than half a cracker, your stomach hurting from the lack of food and water. How much longer could you survive this? Escaping wasn’t an option. You and your fellow captives had tried but each time it had failed. All you could do was sit and suffer through each and every day of this torture. 

The door to the small trailer was thrown open and in stepped the clown. His terrifying face looming through the bars at you, holding out… flowers? Shaky hands took them from him but when you didn’t smile or thank him he started rattling the cage, moans of anger coming from the mask on his face. He threw open the cage door, grabbing your wrist roughly and dragging you outside where there was another clown. It took no time at all for them to tie you up, the other one more talkative — his voice seemed familiar to you but you couldn’t quite place it.

The talkative of the two skipped over to you. The weapon in his hand brought up to your throat…

You jumped up in bed, sweating buckets, fear coursing through you as you once again dreamt of that night. As your eyes focused, you noticed another person in the room. He was looking at you with concerned eyes, slowly edging closer to you. Scooting back on the bed was all you could do to put some distance between you and the mystery man.

“Hey, calm down, toots. I’m not gonna hurt you. It’s me, Jimmy,” his soothing voice said calmly. His hands up in the air. That’s when you realised who it was. The man that had saved you. 

“Sorry,” you mumbled.

“Now what’re you apologising for? You went through a real traumatic experience, doll face. I'd be concerned if you weren’t a little cautious.” His voice was like a soothing balm, easing a little bit of the fear.

“I appreciate it. You rescuing me and letting me crash here. I don’t got nowhere else to go.”

“You can stay here as long as you like. I’m sure we can bother Elsa to give you a job around here to help out — make you a part of the family. Besides, here, you’ll be safe. I’ll make sure of it.”

For some reason, you believed him with all your heart and soul.

Elsa had given you a job. It wasn’t anything special — just to clean up around the place and help the others get ready for their acts. It was easy work but it made you feel important. Everyone had accepted you the instant Jimmy introduced you to them. It had taken a while for you to open up and actually hold a conversation but they had been so patient with you. They knew the whole story of what you’d been through. It was probably why they were just as protective of you as Jimmy was. Well, no. Nobody was as protective of you as Jimmy. He had stuck to his word and made sure you were safe. Anyone even so much as looked at you funny and he was by your side ready to defend you. The fact you had someone looking after you made you feel special. Jimmy made you feel special. The closer the two of you got, the easier it was to fall for him.

Whether it was his charming smile or his caring nature, he always found a way to make you swoon. Not that he knew. No, there was no way you were telling him. The thought alone was almost more terrifying than being kidnapped by that awful clown.

The nightmares still came but they weren’t as frequent anymore. They never came on the nights where you fell asleep on Jimmy, held tightly in his arms. Those were your favourite nights. It often happened when you were talking — he was a touchy guy and always liked to have his arm around you. Who were you to refuse a cuddle from a handsome guy like that? It was purely platonic even if your herat beat a little faster any time he touched you.

“You busy after the show tonight?” Jimmy asked, approaching you with his hands in his pockets and a grin on his face.

At his question, you stopped sweeping the floor, turning to look at him. “No, why?”

“Thought I’d treat you. Meet me at my trailer after the show?”

“Yeah, okay.”

It felt like the night dragged, each acting seeming to take twice as long as normal when in reality you were just being impatient. Ever since Jimmy had asked you to meet him after the show, it was all you could think about. Maybe there was some hope that he did actually feel the same way you did. The thought alone was enough to make you feel giddy. It didn’t help when Jimmy caught the wide smile on your face from the other side of the stage and threw a wink your way. 

When the show finally came to it’s end, you almost ran to his trailer - but didn’t because you didn’t want to seem too eager. When you stepped inside, Jimmy was already there. Turns out he was just as eager as you were. He gestured for you to take a seat and you almost couldn’t believe your eyes. This man had cooked you dinner. He’d taken the time to actually cook for you. That meant the world to you, especially knowing Jimmy wasn’t that much of a cook in the first place.

Was there anything more romantic than the person you liked making you dinner? He’d even set the small table out with a candle in the middle.

The two of you chatted, laughed and ate. It was like nothing else in the world mattered but you two. It had been so long since you felt so carefree. With that thought in mind, you decided to be brave. You had to take your shot while you had it, right? So, you leaned in and captured Jimmy’s lips with yours. At first he was surprised, his eyes wide but soon enough he relaxed into it, his lips moving gently against yours.

It felt like heaven kissing him. It was everything you’d dreamed of and more. He nibbled your bottom lip trying to deepen the kiss so you parted your lips, your tongues tangling together in a frenzied dance. Jimmy’s hand rested on your hip, gently laying you back on the bed where you’d moved over to relax after dinner, his body gently resting on top of yours. The second you felt his hand slide up your thigh and under your dress, you froze. That caused Jimmy to instantly stop, pulling away with a confused look on his face. 

“I thought….” He furrowed his brows.

“No, I mean…” Before you could finish your sentence, he cut you off.

“It’s because of these right, right? You don’t want these hands touching you. I should have guessed it was too good to be true. I thought you were different than everyone else but turns out you’re just the same as them,” Jimmy’s eyes were ablaze with anger. He had a short fuse, you knew this so you tried to diffuse the situation quickly. As he tried to get to his feet, your fingers gently encircled around his arm not letting him move.

“It’s not that. I don’t care about any of that. Your hands are part of you and… I like every part of you. I just…” you swallowed, almost mumbling your next words. “I’m… a virgin.”

That took him by surprise. His features softened immediately. It had nothing to do with him. You liked him. All of him. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. But, I gotta tell you doll, I really like you. You drive me crazy.”

“I… want to. I’m just nervous.”

“We’ll go slow, alright? I do something you don’t like then you tell me to stop and I will, I promise.”

You nodded your head, hands threading through his hair as you pulled him back down to your lips. This time when his hand slid up your thigh, you didn’t stop him. His fingers softly rubbing you through your panties causing a moan to slide from your lips. The noise sent shivers down his spine. If he could hear you make noises like that for the rest of his life then he’d be a happy man. 

“Can I?” He asked as his fingers found the edge of your panties. With a nod, you gave him permission. Jimmy wasted no time at all in pulling them off, bunching your dress up around your waist so he could get a better view. He groaned at the sight, his cock already half hard and straining against his pants.

His fingers slid through your folds with ease, the skin on skin contact causing you to moan out, your hand grasping his wrist as he softly moved his fingers. You’d touched yourself before but it had never felt as good as this. His eyes kept focused on you, taking note of what made you moan, what made you squirm. Sensing how wet you were, he decided to push the boundaries a bit more, his fingers rubbing against your entrance. He pushed them inside slowly. You gasped out. He slowly began to slide his finger in and out, trying not to hurt you. With his conjoined fingers, he knew he had to be careful. The last thing he wanted to do was cause you any harm. Your soft moans echoed through the trailer, your orgasm fast approaching.

“Ohhh, Jimmy,” you whined, back arching off the mattress as you bucked your hips into his hand. That familiar feeling was pooling in the pit of your stomach and all it took was his thumb circling your clit for you to fall apart around his fingers.

He continued pumping his finger into you through your release only pulling out once he was sure you were finished. The smirk on his face as he leaned down to capture your lips once again was captivating. In your still dazed state you barely felt the way he was moving his hips against you, his hard, clothed length rubbing against you. “Jimmy?”

“Hmmm?” He mumbled, his lips now pressing along your neck.

“I want you.”

His head shot up, eyes searching yours to make sure you were certain. When he found no hesitation he didn’t waste any time in pulling your dress off you along with his own clothes. As he laid back on top of you, skin on skin, you felt the nerves bubble up. Sensing it, he rested his forehead against yours. “We don’t have to do this.”

“I want to. I trust you. You once told me you’d keep me safe and… I know you will now too.”

“Well, shit, way to make me feel like the luckiest guy on the planet.” His lips found yours in a soft gentle kiss saying more than words ever could. His free hand rested on your hip as he positioned himself at your entrance. “You sure? I’ll go real slow. Tell me to stop at any point, okay?”

“I trust you,” you whispered.

That was all he needed. Slowly, he pressed his tip into you, pushing in until he heard you gasp. The sharp ache that ran through your body hurt like hell, your eyes scrunched up. Jimmy looked at you with concern, his hand finding yours letting you squeeze it if you needed to. “You okay?”

You nodded your head. Once he was certain you really were fine he pushed in a little more. You squeezed his hand, breathing out to ground yourself. He stilled once he was almost all the way inside giving you time to adjust to him, peppering kisses all over your face to ease you. “Y-you can move, Jimmy.”

He pulled out slowly, shallowly then back in testing the waters. It still hurt but you weren’t going to let that stop you. His pace was slow, the tightness of your walls almost overwhelming him. The more he moved against you, the more enjoyable it became and slowly but surely the wince of pain turned into soft moans. It was like music to Jimmy’s ears. He picked up the pace just a little bit more, a groan slipping past his lips when you moved your own hips with his.

“You feel so good, dollface,” he whispered in your ear, his lips finding that sweet spot on your neck, gently biting down. “Can’t believe you’re letting me do this of all people.”

Your hands rested on his back, your body moving with each thrust. As your release grew closer, Jimmy felt your nails digging into his back. He let out a hiss, the feeling only bringing his own release closer. 

“Jimmy!” You gasped as he sped up, his hand moving to bring one of your legs to hook around his waist. His thrusts were becoming sloppy now, his own high on the horizon. Your body arched into his, walls clenching around him as you came, his name falling like a prayer from your lips.

“That’s it, baby, I’ve got you,” he grunted. The feeling of your body convulsing around him was enough to send him over the edge, burying himself inside you as he coated your walls with his release.

His body collapsed on top of you, the both of you sweaty and spent. All that echoed through the room were your heavy breaths as you tried to calm down. Jimmy’s head was buried in the crook of your neck, peppering light kisses there as your hand ran through his dark messy hair. Eventually, he lifted his head up to look at you with a lazy smile. “I meant it, y’know? When I said I was crazy about you. Have been since I met you. My life isn’t the greatest but you’re a sliver of hope in all the darkness. When I’m with you I feel…normal.”

“I’m all yours for as long as you’ll have me, Jimmy Darling.”

“Alright, how’s forever then?”

tag list (ask to be added!): @juliamaximoff @lemoniiiiiii @jazz-berry @xmidnight-rain @honeymoon8

[smoshyourheadin]

Maybe u could do a Spencer besties to lovers? Like they've known each other a long time yk

Thankssss no pressure if ur busy ofc <3

It’s Always Been You

cw: reader has a boyf who she breaks up w bc he’s an alchaholic!! don’t read if you aren’t comfortable, i’ll catch you another time ml 💛

a/n: EEK IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG THANK YOU FOR BEING PATIENT ANON 🫶🫶💛💛 also im taking this as smosh spence not cm spence so feel free to re-request if you’d like <33 ps, ive written that he listens to pink floyd here so thats who syd barrett is if you don’t know :))

requests r open!!

///

pairing: spencer agnew x fem!reader

florida, 2002

you and spencer were scurrying around in the freshly mown grass of his backyard, playing tag.

“you didn’t get me, you cheated!” you exclaim, ducking as he reaches out to get you again, tumbling to the floor.

“did too!” spencer retorts, his grazed knees dropping to the floor so he can lean over you. he meets your eyes, pulls a tongue, and hoists himself back up to run to his tyre swing.

all 11 years you’d known, you’d known them with spencer. your moms had been great friends since way before you were born, being in the same book club. or was it an art night? you didn’t exactly know, but you did know that because your moms were best friends, so were you and spencer.

as you sprung back up to your feet, your moms watched your antics through the kitchen window.

“whoever can swing the other the highest gets to have the last red popsicle!” he yelled as you ran over

“oh you’re so on!”

your hands gripped the tyre and you pushed like your life depended on it.

“y’know,” your mom said “one day, they’re going to end up together.”

his mom looked over at yours and smiled,

“i’d be surprised if they didnt honestly.”

los angeles, 2024

you walk through the door of your apartment, and you kick the door closed behind you. your bag slides off your shoulder, and you throw your keys onto the dresser next to the door. you only manage a long groan before flopping onto the couch.

“heya, charlie!” you scrunch your face up as you feel your dog’s cold, wet nose press against your cheek, as he gently wags his tail

“i missed you too boy, work was so tiring today.” you work at smosh with spencer, and have done for the past seven years after you left your job at another channel to join him. it was basically the best decision you’d ever made, every day filled with laughs; practically just a 24/7 hangout. you work with spencer on smosh games, but rarely ever go on camera, even if spencer’s there. you enjoy it anyway though.

you sit up and scratch behind his ears. he wiggles his body contently at your fondness. and then your stomach growls. it made sense, it was currently 6:43pm, and you last ate at noon, so you get up and drag yourself to make some mac n cheese.

as the pasta boils your phone starts ringing.

it’s james.

rubbing your hands over your face, you answer the dreaded call from your boyfriend james.

“heyyy~ sweetheart, y’doin okay? you were hic bein’ a bit of a bitch today, didnt answer my calls, what, you hate me or sumn?” he rambles, most of his words just slurring off.

“james, are you drinking again?” your voice is agitated, hearing the chattering and the low bass of a bar in the background.

you know he has a problem, and you’ve tried to get him to stop so many times. but you just can’t. he just won’t take your help.

“wha- i mean- well- no- but um- well y’r just gonna be mad at me like y’allways are” he stammers, not wanting to tell you the truth.

“no, i’m done with this. you say all this to me when you’re drunk, and then act like everything is fine! i’m sick of it! you spend so much time at the bar, and its the only place we ever go on dates, and i just end up babysitting you! so yeah i am mad! but for the last time! fuck you james.”

you hang up.

you start to tear up, the knot in your chest tight as your emotions come rushing to you, face heating up as tears begin to fall. the hissing of something behind you snaps you out of it.

“shit!” you rush over to to your stove, where the water from your pasta spills over the sides, the flames licking at the bottom of the pan.you take it off the heat and turn it off. it looks done anyway. you add some butter, and, of course, cheese. stirring gently, you sob.

james was so nice to you, always showering you with gifts and praise and love. but it was all for nothing. he just didn’t love you like he loved drinking in the end.

pouring the mac n cheese into a bowl, you call spencer.

“hey lemon! how’s my favourite person this fine evening?” you smile at the nickname.

florida, 2007

“spencer, you’re a boy. why are you so complicated? i mean, its just annoying!” you walk into his bedroom after his mom let you in, clearly pissed off. being 16 isn’t fun, especially when boys you like are rude to you.

“what did he do?” spencer doesn’t look up from his computer, just slightly turn his head.

“he said that i must eat lemons because of how bitter i am. i mean come on!” you lie on his bed and watch him play runescape.

“lemon… hmph” he just smiles and continues whatever he was doing on his game.

“what? nothing to say? ugh! you suuuuuck!”

los angeles, 2024

“yeah, i mean, no. i broke up with james.” you sniffle, and eat a forkfull of your food, elbows resting on the cold marble of the kitchen island.

“i mean- um- yeah thats horrible…” he says

“you’re allowed to celebrate, i know you hated him. and so did everyone. but still. im fragile right now!” you giggle through your gentle tears

“well, i mean, honestly? glad he’s gone. he sucked dude. not sure why you didn’t do it sooner. well, one positive to come of this, your pillows won’t stink of beer next time i nap at yours!” he replies, clearly happy for you.

“yeah,” you chuckle at the memory of spencer falling asleep on your bed, then completing his hair smelt like budweiser “that is true.”

“all seriousness though, are you okay?” his voice is genuine this time, filled with concern.

“no, not really. it’s just… different i guess. but, not much has changed y’know? like, it already felt like he wasn’t my boyfriend anymore…” you begin to ramble for at least 20 minutes, only to be met with the occasional ‘mhmn’ and ‘yeah’ from spencer. mid sentence, there’s a knock at your door.

“oh one sec, someone’s here.” you get up from your table and swing the door open to see a very sympathetic looking spencer, two target bags in his hands.

your jaw is on the floor. you were just crying to him over the phone, and he’d stayed whilst going out to get what you can only assume is things like sour patch kids and vanilla ice cream, which you could see at the top of the bag. your favourites.

“girls night?” he smirked and raised the bags at his sides.

all you can do is smile ear to ear, and wrap him in a tight hug. he leaned into you, basking in your sweet citrusy perfume.

“you’re my favourite, spencie.” you say into his shoulder.

as you both walk inside, charlie comes bounding over to spencer, his favourite person.

“who’s a good boy! charlie is!” spencer was now crouchedby your kitchen island, fussing over your dog as you walked to put on something more comfortable. you slid on some track pants and an old atari hoodie. walking back into your kitchen, spencer has unpacked the bags, and is creating his favourite conconction, The Agnew Sundae. basically the most sickeningly sweet ice cream ever. his dad made it for you both in the summer, and it consisted of:

vanilla ice cream

chocolate syrup

caramel sauce

whipped cream

sprinkles

mini marshmallows

chocolate chips

m&ms

and some crushed oreos to finish.

god, you know you’re going to regret this later, but boy was it a good way to cheer you up.

also strewn on the counter was his switch and copy of animal crossing, a few of his dvd’s for you to watch, and his mom’s chocolate chip cookies.

“spencer, how on earth did you get these? your mom lives across the country!” you hold up the baggie, and raise an eyebrow.

he looks up from his ice cream assembly station, and smirks.

“a magician never- ow!”

you cut him off by lightly jabbing his arm

“okay okay, she visited not to long ago - when she took you to the mall? and she gave me these to freeze and keep for an important event. i think she’d agree this is important.” you cant help but smile at his remark. you missed you moms.

“i’ll have to ring her later to thank her.” you say.

the night goes on, and you and spencer sit on the couch under a blanket watching barbie princess charm school. because what else are you going to watch?

as the movie goes on, and the effects of the agnew sundae kick in; you were dozing off on his shoulder. towards the end of the movie, so does he. he drifts off, comforted by your soft hair occasionally brushing against his face.

you stir awake, the sun beaming into your eyes through your semi-open blinds, and you’re hit by a wave of memory. everything that happened last night comes flooding back.

james’ call.

spencer’s call.

spencer showing up for you.

at the latter, you smile slightly. you prop yourself up on the sofa, and notice the absence of spencer’s warmth by you. frowning slightly, you walk into the kitchen.

“morning sleepyhead” his sweet voice rings through the room

“hey. i thought you’d’ve gone home”

“no, im not that mean! who do you take me for?” he retorts, his attention turning back to the pancakes on the stove.

“pancakes? what time is it?” you come up behind him, putting your chin on his shoulder.

“yeah, and it’s about 10:30.” he leant his head on yours, flipping one. you had to admit, they look pretty good.

“10:30!?” you lift you head in surprise, looking at your phone “shouldn’t we be in work?”

“nope, i called us in sick. said my mom was having surgery. which she is, but i made it sound dramatic so we could stay off.” he looks at you, and smiles slightly.

“well, send her my love! i think i’ll go get dressed now.” he hummed, and you left the room.

opening your closet, you pick out a yellow baggy t-shirt and some grey sweatpants. you pull on some fluffy socks, and slip on a zip up hoodie. walking back out into the living room, spencer walks in with two plates piled high with pancakes, drenched in syrup and strawberries

“so,” you say, a fork full of pancakes in your mouth. “whats the plan for today?”

he looks over at you, and shrugs slightly. “not sure, we could go to the book store you like?”

“ah, you know the way to a girl’s heart“ you put a hand over your chest and giggle a bit.

a few hours later, you walk into the store, door creaking just a bit as a small brass bell chimes overhead. the air is filled with a comforting mix of old paper, leather bindings, and a hint of freshly brewed coffee from the corner cafe that you and spencer like to get tea from. you breathe it in deeply, a sense of calm washing over you. as you walk over the creaky wooden floorboards beneath you, soft warm light filters down from antique lamps, and cast a gentle glow over the rows of books. you ghost your fingertips over the cloth spines while the quiet murmur of whispered conversations and the occasional rustling of pages create a soothing background noise, almost like a lullaby. through spencer’s airpods, syd barrett serenades you both, and his voice blends seamlessly with the ambiance of the store.

“anything good today lemon?” spencer says as he shimmies up next to you in the aisle of towering book shelves, his voice like honey rolling off his tongue. his hair was unruly as always, but he looked so pretty in this light. his face was littered with freckles that you wish you could kiss. he’s smiling at you, and it snaps you back to reality, and reminds you of the fact you’re staring at him

“uh, yeah, i think i’ll get this one” you smile back, holding up a copy of memoirs of a geisha by arthur golden

“cool, shayne likes that one i think. but he likes every book so…” he smiles at his own remark “um, you want me to grab our normal seats in the cafe while you pay for that?”

“yes, please!” you reply eagerly, smiling as he walked off.

you walk up to the cashier, an older lady who always gives you a bookmark.

“thank you m��darlin’, have a lovely day!”

“you too mrs bryson!” you reply, heading over to spencer who’s sat in some plush leather armchairs. as you sit in comfortable silence with him, time seems to slow down, and for a moment, it's just you, spencer, the books, and the comforting atmosphere of this charming bookstore.

“i got you your sweet tea.” he says, handing you a plastic cup filled with your favourite tea.

he remembered.

fuck.

you were in love with spencer agnew, and it took you him handing you your favourite tea to realise it.

“thanks spence.” you say, still grasping the feelings in your chest.

while you read you book and drink your tea, you feel your attention drifting to him. you can't help but glance up from the pages every now and then, watching him as he sits across from you, his focus on his own book. his fingers absently tracing the rim of his coffee mug, his brow furrowing as he reads. the way the sunlight filters through the small window, casting a warm glow across his hair, highlighting the subtle streaks of lighter brown among his dark curls. you find yourself smiling at the sight of him, wondering when these small, mundane moments began to mean so much to you. the bookstore is quiet, aside for the murmur of others reading or talking in hushed tones. yet, with spencer sitting just a few feet away, the world feels like it's faded to the background. it's just you and him, sharing this space, this moment. you watch the way his lips move slightly as he reads, how he occasionally tilts his head in concentration, and the way his eyes light up when he finds something particularly interesting. as he looks up and catches you watching him, you feel a rush of warmth spreading through your chest. he smiles at you, a slow, easy smile that makes your heart skip a beat. he raises an eyebrow, and you quickly look back down at your book, feeling your cheeks flush. but you can't help it; your gaze finds its way back to him, like he's the most interesting story in the room. he seems to notice the shift in the air between you. he closes his book and leans forward slightly, his elbows resting on his knees.

“everything okay?” he asks, his voice gentle, his eyes filled with genuine curiosity.

“yeah,” you reply, trying to sound casual, though your heart is racing. “just... glad to be here with you.”

he nods, his smile growing a bit wider. “me too.”

as he settles back into his chair, you realize that this simple exchange has changed something. the air feels lighter, the connection between you stronger. you may have come here to read and relax, but now, sitting across from spencer, you know you've found something else entirely - something you never want to let go of.

as you leave the store, you’re panicking slightly as you realise you don’t know what to do. so instead you make up an excuse.

“i forgot my keys ," you blurt out, looking back at the bookstore. it's a thin excuse, but spencer doesn't seem to notice. he simply nods, a hint of concern in his eyes.

"do you want me to wait for you?" he asks, already reaching for his phone to check the time.

"no, it's fine," you reply quickly. "you can go ahead. i’ll just be a minute."

spencer seems reluctant to leave, but he nods, offering a warm smile before stepping out onto the street. you watch him walk away, his figure blending into the crowd as he heads toward the main crossing. your heart sinks a little as he disappears from view, and you take a deep breath, trying to steady your racing pulse.

the bookstore feels different now. the warm glow and soft murmurs are still there, but without spencer, it's like the color has faded a bit. you stand by the door, uncertain of what to do next. you could go back outside, catch up with him, and just say it. tell him how you feel. but the words seem stuck in your throat, and the thought of laying your feelings bare feels like too much, too soon.

you step back inside, pretending to look for something you might have left behind. the stacks of books seem to stretch endlessly in front of you, a maze of comforting distractions. you wander through the aisles, hoping to calm your racing thoughts, but all you can think about is spencer - his smile, the way his eyes crinkle when he laughs, the warmth of his voice.

eventually, you find a quiet corner and sit down, closing your eyes for a moment. you know you have to do something. you can't just let him walk away without knowing how much he means to you. but the fear of rejection, of changing everything, feels overwhelming.

you realize you need time to sort through your feelings, to figure out the best way to approach this. with a heavy heart, you decide to make your way home, hoping the familiar surroundings will bring clarity. as you step out onto the street, the cool breeze brushes against your skin, and you take a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions raging inside you.

on the journey home, you replay the moments with spencer in your mind, each one a bittersweet reminder of how much he means to you. you know you can't keep hiding your feelings, but you also know you need to approach this with caution. as you unlock the door to your apartment, you make a silent promise to yourself—to take the time you need, to listen to your heart, and to find the courage to follow where it leads, even if it means risking everything for him.

when you get home, spencer tries calling you as he paces around his bedroom, his phone pressed against his ear. the ringing continues, but there's no answer. he frowns, feeling an uneasy twist in his stomach. maybe you're still in the bookstore. maybe your phone is on silent, or maybe you're just busy. he tells himself there's a reasonable explanation, but the doubt lingers.

as he walks to his kitchen, he dials again. this time, the call goes straight to voicemail. his instincts tell him something isn't right. the keys excuse felt odd, and your hurried departure only amplifies his worry. he takes a moment to think, then leaves his apartment, jumps in his car, starts the engine, and drives toward your apartment.

the streets pass in a blur as he navigates through the evening traffic, his mind racing with possibilities. he finds a parking spot near your building and heads to your door. the hallway is quiet, save for the distant sound of a tv from a neighbouring apartment. he takes a deep breath and knocks.

nothing.

he knocks again, this time a little louder. the knot in his stomach tightens. what if something's wrong? what if he's too late? he knocks a third time, and this time, he hears a faint rustling from inside. the door opens slowly, and there you are, standing in the doorway with a look of surprise and confusion.

"spence?" you say, blinking at him as if he's the last person you expected to see.

"i - i was worried," he stammers, rubbing the back of his neck. "you didn't answer your phone, and i - i didn't know if you were okay."

you tilt your head, trying to process why he's here. his eyes search yours, and you can tell he's anxious, almost desperate to explain himself. "i'm fine," you say, "just had some stuff to think about."

he nods, but you can see he's not entirely convinced. there's something else, something deeper. he takes a step back, as if he's about to leave, but then he hesitates. "i - i have to tell you something," he blurts out, his words coming out in a rush. "i like you. like a lot. like i think i love you? and i know it might be weird, and i don't want to mess things up, but I just had to say it - because i couldn't keep it to myself anymore.”

he looks at you, his eyes full of emotions you can't quite decipher yet. you nod, urging him to continue, even though your own heart is racing. there's something in his gaze that makes you realize this isn't just any confession - this is something that's been building for a long time.

"i've liked you since we were kids," he says, almost breathlessly. "i mean, you were always the coolest person I knew. you didn't care what anyone else thought. you were smart and funny and just... so genuinely kind. i remember when we used to ride our bikes around the neighbourhood, and you'd always be the first one to try something new. like, remember when you climbed that huge tree in mr lawson's yard just because you wanted to see the view from the top? i thought you were so brave."

he chuckles softly, his gaze softening as he reminisces. "and then, when we got older, you were always there for me. when my parents split up, and i felt like everything was falling apart, you were the one who came over with a pizza and just listened. you didn't try to fix it; you just let me talk. that's something i've always loved about you. you're a great listener, and you care about people. like, really care."

he shifts his weight from one foot to the other, his eyes locking with yours. "it's not just that, though. It's the little things, too. the way you laugh at the dumbest of angela’s jokes, the way you get excited about your favorite books, and how you always know the right thing to say when I'm feeling down. you make everything feel... lighter, you know? like, even when things are tough, you find a way to make it better."

spencer pauses, his voice growing more earnest. "so yeah, i've um, been holding onto this for a while, and i just, couldn't keep pretending that i didn't feel this way. i like you - a lot. and i don't know if you feel the same way, but i just couldn't not tell you anymore."

he takes a step back, the tension in his shoulders indicating that he's prepared to leave if needed. "i don't want to make things weird between us. if you don't feel the same, that's okay. i just had to say it, because you're the best thing in my life, and i can't keep acting like you aren't."

his confession takes you by surprise, but as he speaks, you feel a surge of warmth in your chest. the words you were struggling to say are suddenly so clear, so obvious. you watch as he starts to turn away, his shoulders slumping in resignation. before he can take another step, you grab his arm and pull him back, your lips pressing against his in a gentle, yet desperate kiss.

he freezes for a moment, stunned by your sudden action, then his arms wrap around you, pulling you close. when you finally break the kiss, you look into his eyes, and there's no doubt, no hesitation.

"it's always been you," you whisper, your voice soft but sure. "you're my person, spencer."

he hugs you tightly, his grip firm and comforting, as if he's afraid you'll disappear if he lets go. you rest your head on his shoulder, feeling the steady beat of his heart against your cheek. it's a perfect moment, one that feels like the beginning of something new, something beautiful.

and as you stand there in each other's embrace, you know that everything's going to be okay, because you have each other. and that's all that matters.