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youkissedareaderinthedark · 1 year ago

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Coraline

Synopsis: Y/n’s childhood and history with her parents has always stayed a secret, and she likes it that way. Until a journalist reveals the truth, and everything seems to come crashing down at once.

young female driver reader x 2023 F1 grid

A/N: a few things for this fic: reader will be 20 years old, had driven for alpha tauri since the beginning of 2022, the 2022 is the same as the 2023 grid, and please look at the trigger warning below.

Trigger Warning: This fic contains abusive parents, talks of eating disorders, neglecting a kid, verbally abusing a kid, signs of depression, and a lot of hurtful comments in general. This fic is not meant to idolize or romanticize having abusive parents or depression. If anyone finds anything particularly disturbing with this fic, do not hesitate to let me know and I will fix it.

tagged: @treehouse-mouse

2023 was supposed to be a good season for Alpha Tauri. The cars looked good, your driver pairing was solid, and the hopes were high for your junior Red Bull team. You could only laugh at the naivety of it now.

Most of the season was exceptional; you and Yuki Tsunoda brought in points almost every weekend, your team was seventh in the constructors championship, and overall, you were having a great time traveling around the world.

This was your second year in Formula 1, and now that you weren’t a rookie anymore, you could have more fun now that you knew what you were doing.

Some people just don’t like others being happy, though.

With less than 10 races left, you walked into the paddock for the Monza Grand Prix Thursday afternoon feeling optimistic. This was the second race after the summer break, and Alpha Tauri was expected to do well in Italy.

Your press officer, Ally, greeted you in your garage, and after saying hello to Yuki, you followed her out of the garage and into the media pen for a press conference.

You walk in to see Lewis, Carlos, Lando, and Fernando and talked quietly with them as the press in front of you get settled. “Everybody ready? All right, first question please” One of the directors asks, as a journalists speaks up.

“Lewis, you’ve witnessed the infamous ‘Monza Curse’ multiple times in your career, do you think the theory is true and will it strike again this year?”

“Um, no” Lewis chuckles. “I don’t believe in the curse, but it would be nice to see someone new finish first today, and if a curse is what it’s going to take, then yeah, why not”

The five of you laugh, not noticing the second journalist beginning to speak. “Y/n, what do you have to say about the recent article published regarding your past with your family?”

You instantly stop laughing, hoping you misheard the man.

“Sorry?”

There’s no way

“The article? That was recently published concerning your past with your parents, what do you have to say about it?” The journalist stared at you curiously while your mind blanked for an answer.

You had no idea what article he was talking about, but if it concerned your past with your ‘family’, you knew it wasn’t anything that should be published.

Suddenly there’s movement in the midst of the media pen, and your press officer emerges from the crowd. “Y/n, come with me” She pauses, seeing one of the directors nearing out of the corner of her eye.

“It’s urgent, I need her” You’d take any excuse to get away from the current situation, so after exchanging a look with Lewis, you follow the woman into the paddock towards your garage.

Once you were both in the safety of your drivers room, you turned on her. “What article is he talking about? What’s going on?” You said, voice heavy with concern.

Ally hesitated, looking uncomfortable, before answering. “This morning, an article published a story talking about you and your parents, and the-um, harsh history you have with them” She hands you her phone, said article already open.

“I think it’s better if you read it yourself” The bold letters blink up at you, clear and sullen.

“F1 DRIVERS UNCOVERED: THE REAL REASON WE DON’T SEE Y/N L/N’S PARENTS”

Your heart falls to your stomach and your hands start to shake as your eyes skim over the words of the most invading and overwhelming article you’ve ever read in your life. Whoever wrote this, wrote it in hopes of exposing every secret of your past, and further tangles the truth of an already over-complicated background.

The real reason your parents are never around you is a reason you hate talking about.

You first realized it when you were around ten years old, the way your parents never looked happy around each other, and always tense around other parents. The way they never said ‘I love you’ or kissed each other goodbye. It confused you, as these were the things you always saw your friend’s parents do, but you were too young to understand at the time, so you mainly ignored it.

It wasn’t until one night when you were eleven that you heard an argument erupting from your kitchen, one about money and divorces and you. The shouting continued for ages, until you heard one statement, loud and clear.

“Think about this, she’s getting good in those karting competitions of hers, and according to other parents she could go really far in this thing and get money from sponsorships and mentors. So let’s just give it a little time, make sure she gets better and gets paid, and the money will go to us and eventually she’ll leave to Formula- whatever and we won’t have to worry about her”

You put your pillow over your head, turned around, and went to sleep sobbing that night.

From then on, there was no ‘I love you’s’ or kisses goodbye even to you, and eventually, no happiness in your house. The ‘other parents’ were right, the older you got, the farther you looked to go in racing. Just before you turned 13, the three of you moved to a city in England so you could pursue karting further, and that’s when it all got worse.

You competed in countless competitions, and every race you won, the more criticism you got from your mom and dad. The second you stepped off the 1st place podium, your parents were waiting to comment on your driving and the techniques you should’ve used to win.

They never let you focus on anything but karting, letting you go nowhere but the track and to school, and made sure you were always looking for ways to get better. They ruthlessly compared you to kids in other series that were performing better than you, and countered every compliment someone gave you with a complaint.

All of this seemed like a dream compared to the treatment you got when you lost. Whether it be second, or tenth, every race you didn’t come first in was a loss, and your parents simply didn’t accept this.

When you lost, they’d make you practice on track for twice as long, no matter the weather, and berated you the second you started to complain. They limited your diet after your losses, claiming you needed to be lighter if you wanted the kart to go faster.

Your mother and father gave you this relentless attention with anything regarding racing, but the moment the topic drifted, you were neglected. There were no family dinners or movie nights, if you wanted something, you were going to have to buy it with your own money, and if you wanted to go somewhere, you needed to walk or find a ride because they refused to drive you anywhere if it wasn’t for a race.

There was no other family to go to even when things go impossibly rougher; you had no other relatives in the UK, and you couldn’t exactly ask your friends if you could live with them.

So you endured these conditions, all the way through the F4 British Championship, F3 and F2. You turned 18 while you were in Formula 2, and the second you did, you took the little money you had, and rented an apartment in South England, where you’ve been living ever since.

Your parents constantly contacted you in whatever ways they could, but you very quickly made sure they didn’t know where you lived and were never given paddock passes again. No one knows any of this anyway; when people ask where your parents are or when they’d get to meet them, you just shrug and say, “they couldn’t make it”

You haven’t seen your parents in person since you were 17, and you’ve done everything in your power to keep it like that.

Though with a few thousand words and 4 hours, one nosy journalist has managed to unravel all your work and growth and release it into the world.

You’re broken out of your stunned silence when Ally puts a hand on your shoulder. “I’ve set up a meeting with Alpha Tauri and Red Bull’s PR managers so we could figure out what we should do next to keep the press off your back, okay? The meeting’s in fifteen meetings, so I’ll leave you for a while”

Ally takes her phone back and exits the room to leave you standing still in the middle of it, astonished and speechless.

The meeting goes as well as you expected it to go. You shared as much as the truth as you saw fit, and came up with a statement to post with the rest of the PR managers. You were confirmed to go back to the media pen to finish interviews an hour later, and while no one asked you about the article, you could tell it was the unanswered question they all wanted to raise.

You are able to avoid most of the press of the remaining of the Italian weekend, and stuck to answering race-related questions only, your safest and only option, Ally told you later. You finished the Grand Prix P10, and flew home still sullen.

You spent the two weeks in between Monza and Japan in your apartment, regretfully thinking about all those years you had to spend under your parent’s treatment, and trying to forget them with simulator work.

You arrive in Suzuka, quiet and unsmiling, and try to ignore the shouting of the press that greets you on your way into the paddock. Ally guides you away as two new voices greet you.

“Hey Y/n, how are you?” Lewis asks, pulling you into a side hug and stepping into place beside you.

“Are you okay? You seem off” Charles says concerned, meeting you in a handshake.

“I’m fine, my flight just got in late last night so I’m tired, that’s all” You half smiled in response, hoping it was believable enough.

“Sure?” Lewis presses father. “Yeah, I’m okay” You nod.

“Okay, well, we’re still going into the city after media today?” Lewis asks. “Of course, I’ll meet you guys at my hotel after” You assure as you near the Alpha Tauri garage.

“See you then, and try to sleep a bit, yes?” Charles says before the two men walk off together.

Your friendship with the two drivers started because of the Spanish and British Grand Prix’s, the two races that gave you your two highest race finishes, and ended with two of your closest friends. Spain was a great race for both you and Lewis, yourself in P4, him in P2, and after non-stop talking in the paddock, you flew back to the UK together, effectively starting the friendship existing today.

You’d been friendly with Charles previously, but after his P9 finish in Silverstone and your P5 finish, he realized in a conversation before an interview that you were undeniably good at cheering people up, and you guys have been close since.

You’ve talked with them since Monza, of course, but not about the article. They want to talk to you about it, you can tell, but Charles and Lewis aren’t the type of people to just come right out and ask if you’re feeling okay about your history with your abusive parents being exposed to the world.

They also don’t want to pressure you into talking about something you clearly don’t want to talk about, so if all they can do is help distract you from the media, they’re going to.

Your night out with the Mercedes and Ferrari drivers does distract you; Lewis leads you and Charles to different shops and restaurants all over Suzuka, talking and laughing the entire time. You take a few photos along the way, and you go back to your hotel still smiling.

You kept your good mood until qualifying on Saturday, and are brought back into the reality of racing when you only manage P11. It’s technically not bad of a result for your car, but P9 or P8 would’ve been better right now, because all you can think about is what your parents would’ve said if you finished P11.

They’re paying you millions of dollars to race for them and the best you can do is eleventh?

You think you deserve to be here?

They are hundreds of other drivers that would do so much better than you

You are nothing compared to the other drivers

You’re lucky if you keep you seat next season, I know I wouldn’t let a P11 driver on my team

You go quiet at the thought, and get through post-race media stoic. You leave with your trainer as soon as you can, avoiding Lewis and Charles’s eyes on your way out. You have a week before you have to leave for Qatar, and spend a countless amount of hours on your simulator, hoping this time it’ll make a difference.

You flew into Lusail not knowing what to expect other than hot weather, and unfortunately you were right. You felt the heat as soon as you got in your car for FP1 on Friday and was already dreading the rest of the weekend.

You qualify P11 for both the race and the sprint, and end up in P12 for the two. You felt terrible after Sunday’s race, both physically and mentally, and you’re already berating yourself for your performance by the time you get weighed.

Charles and Lewis are in your post-race press conference group, and you can see them exchange a look after every cold and detached answer you give. You only stop to talk to your friends for a few minutes afterwards before you excuse yourself to go cool down, and leave minutes later with the defense of needing rest.

You fly back to the UK with Lewis, and you’re glad the two of you are asleep for most of the trip so Lewis won’t ask you to talk about why you’ve been so quiet.

The 10 days you have until you fly out to Austin are spent mostly on your phone, looking at all the comments people have been making about you since the article came out, saying how you probably deserved the treatment that you got, and how Alpha Tauri needs a more “stable” driver if they want to advance in the championship.

You don’t do much except exercise and train on the sim in those days, finding neither the desire or energy to do anything else.

Even though everyone is happy to be in Texas that week, you can’t find the energy to truly smile once that weekend. Charles and Lewis are practically stuck to your side, and even though you can tell they’re dying to ask you to talk about it, they only ask a few times if you wanted to tell them something, and when you denied, and simply offered companionship through silence.

It’s another sprint race, and you only pull off P12 and 13 for qualifying and the shootout, and drop a place by the end of both races.

You feel more frustrated with yourself than ever; you don’t understand why you can’t work with the car like you once used to, and you can’t even figure out how to again. You were doing so well until that fucking article came out, and all the sudden you don’t know how to drive.

The worst part about it is that every race, more and more people are realizing how you’ve been under-performing, and how people are starting to question your ability to drive for the junior Red Bull team.

You aren’t stupid, you know how things work at Red Bull, so you know that if you don’t pick your pace up soon, you could end up without a seat for the 2024 season.

This thought alone starts to destroy you, and soon you can’t even deny how burnt out you are. You pick up on the forced habit of not eating much, and making yourself to do nothing but train and look for ways to be better.

You spend the days before Mexico with data analysts and strategists, looking for any and every way to go faster. You dedicate too much time looking at successful F2 drivers, hearing Liam Lawson’s name come up too much for comfort, thinking about how Dennis Hauger had been looking fast in F2.

It’s a terribly unhealthy time killer, one that makes you look sick and go quiet. Charles and Lewis aren’t the only ones exchanging concerned looks now; multiple other drivers on the grid, friends with you or not, notice the change in your behavior and quickly grow worried when they hear Yuki’s description of you.

The drivers aren’t stupid either, they all know about the article that was published in September, and most of them would be lying if they said they hadn’t looked at it in curiosity. They’d also be lying if they saw their eyes didn’t widen in concern or eyebrows didn’t furrow with worry when they read how terrible your parents treated you.

The grid saw how the comments got nastier and nastier under your lessening social media posts every day, and even asked your PR officer multiple times to make sure she was managing your accounts and making sure you didn’t see what people had to say about your background or yourself.

They saw how you got quieter every race, how you stopped hanging out with Yuki and Charles and Lewis, no matter how many times they offered. They saw the rumors of you and your 2024 seat, how apparently Helmut Marko was paying close attention to you and the clauses in your contract.

They asked a lot, if you wanted to talk or if they could help in any way. It was always the same response; a weary smile, a small shake of the head, the words,“No, I’m fine, just tired” and an excuse that you were needed in your garage or media pen.

So they try to help in more discreet ways; when Yuki is asked about your position on Alpha Tauri or your future with Red Bull, he calmly assures that you are working hard with the team, and is doing everything possible to understand the car.

Charles, Lewis, and a few other drivers make a routine of coming to your driver’s room, most of the time just to sit with you as you look at data, or talk with you when you’re feeling up to it.

Mexico goes somehow worse than Texas, and you finish with your lowest result in F1 yet, P15. You try to be as approachable as possible in post-race media, but your sullen face gives you away.

You leave with Ally and your trainer to catch your flight to Brazil mere hours after you passed the checkered flag, and spend most of your time in Sau Paulo alone in your hotel room, replaying every hurtful comment either your mother and father or fans have said about you, and debating whether or not it was true.

You walk into the Brazilian paddock Thursday morning more grateful than you thought possible that this was the third-to-last race of your season.

And according to over twenty media sources, your third-to last race of F1.

After a public statement made by Marko talking about how Red Bull was “considering your future with their junior team” every journalist in the F1 community has decided that it means this was your last season in F1.

And honestly, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. Whether you raced in 2024 or not, you just wanted to go home and avoid the press for three months.

It was another sprint weekend, and another terrible qualifying and shootout. You placed 15th in both sessions and kept your place in the sprint, and spent a quiet Saturday evening in your hotel.

You could feel almost every journalists eye’s turn to you as soon as you walked into the paddock on Sunday. You arrived early that afternoon to get some extra data-stuff done, only now realizing that it gave the growing group of reporters behind you more time to ask you questions.

“Y/n! Can you tell us about your future in F1?”

“Will you have a seat next year?

“Y/n, what does Helmut Marko think about your decrease in performance?”

“Does your past with your parents have anything to do with your recent race results?”

You try to keep your face emotionless as you make your way into the Alpha Tauri garage and to your drivers room. You prepare for the race with your personal trainer and look over the arranged strategies for Sau Paulo while you wait for the go-ahead to get in your car.

Due to all the crashed-out cars, you ended the race in P12 in front of Oscar Piastri and Daniel Ricciardo. Statistically speaking, it was one of your better 2023 races, but everyone knows if it wasn’t for all the DNF’s, you’d finish in the bottom five.

You know that everyone knows this because just before you walked into the media pen after your race debrief, you saw Christian Horner and Marko speaking to your team principle, and after Yuki’s P9 finish today, it didn’t take you even a second to understand who they were talking about with disappointed faces and multiple shakes of the head.

Sure, this could mean nothing. This could just be a conversation between the three people that control the top team and it’s junior team. But you also like to think you’re a bit smarter than that.

You walked deeper into the crowded area before the three could see you, and walked to the first open journalist you saw, in hopes of leaving early.

“Y/n, hi! Not too bad of a race for you today, I guess?” The man asked, pointing his microphone towards you

“Yeah, not too bad. The car felt pretty okay and there was a bit of pace, but not enough to overtake or anything, clearly” You reply.

“Can we expect more race pace from you in Las and Vegas and Abu Dhabi?”

“I mean, it’s a bit too early to tell, but we’ll hope and see what comes out out of the practices” The man nods before looking down at his notebook.

“And your seat for Alpha Tauri next year, we know you’re apart of the confirmed driver lineup for 2024 but Helmut Marko states that there are attainable clauses in your contract, what do you think about that?”

You’re caught off guard by the question, but right when you’re about to respond, the man continues.

“Surely, Alpha Tauri isn’t really considering keeping you for next season, are they?”

You’re standing in front of the man speechless now, your brain barely comprehending what’s being spoken.

“Because I know the last thing a team wants is an incapable driver that is too emotionally effected by her “traumatic” childhood to race,” the volume of his voice starts to increase, and other drivers are starting to focus on your one-sided conversation.

“I mean, c’mon, no one even believes that even happened to you, and if it did, your parents were probably right for doing it-”

Your hands are shaking, eyes are wide with shock, body suddenly freezing, and you don’t even think you’re breathing. All you can do is listen as this man goes on and on about how you’re a shitty driver and deserved how your parents treated you.

You’re only broken out of your trance when an arm clad in red wraps around your shoulders and pulls you through the paddock. You’re not even aware of the yelling from a certain Mercedes drivers gets quieter and quieter as you’re brought into your driver’s room.

You’re being sat on a couch, and suddenly Charles Leclerc’s face is right in front of you, hands on your shoulders and eyes filled with concerned. “Y/n? Y/n, look at me, please, Y/n-” Your eyes dart to him and in an instant, everything from the past five minutes comes rushing through your head, and you can’t stop the tears that start to fall down your face.

“Oh, Y/n” The Ferrari driver moves to comfort you, but stops as you begin to cover your face and move away.

“No, Y/n, it’s okay, please, let me help you, Y/n” Charles wraps his arms around you in a hug as your body begins to shake with uncontrollable sobs.

“I can’t- I can’t do this anymore, Charles” You say in between breaths.

“I have to quit or something, I can’t keep doing this Charles, I can’t” You let your head fall on his shoulder, as the man tries to calm you down.

Charles’ heart is breaking as he comforts his friend; he remembers loving his first few years in Formula 1, how everything was so new and exciting to him, he could never not want to race, not then and not now. But to hear one of his closest friends breakdown because of how much she hates being there, makes the man’s heart shatter.

The door abruptly opens, and for a moment, all you can hear is the low angry cursing of Lewis Hamilton, until he sees you and Charles, and his face immediately softens.

“Love, I’m so sorry. That guy is a complete jerk, don’t listen to him” The British man says as he takes a seat beside you and wraps an arm around your shoulders.

“I don’t know what to do anymore, I feel so stuck in this place where everyone is always talking about what happened and I don’t know how much longer I can go through it” You say, your voice breaking off with another sob.

Charles hushes you once more, exchanging a worried look with Lewis as you pull away from him again. “I’m sorry, I know I should be doing better and everything but I just can’t-” You say, voice shaky through the tears.

“Don’t for one second be sorry that you’re not competitive right now. Y/n, thousands of people are talking about the one thing that hurt you the most, and I understand why you feel this way, just please, love, for your own good, let us help you. I promise it will make you feel better” Lewis assures, grabbing your hand.

So for the first time, you do. For over an hour, you tell Charles and Lewis everything that happened when you were younger, and how the article has made you feel since then. They listen quietly, nodding once in a while to let you know they understand, and gave you a hug when you stopped talking.

“Do you feel better now?” Lewis asks.

“Yeah, not entirely, but better”

“Good, that’s all I wanted to hear,”

“Are you ready to go home now? There’s a plane waiting for us, if you want”

“Definitely. I need to go home” You say as Charles helps pack up all your things and Lewis makes sure there’s a car waiting for you two outside. As you’re all walking through the nearly-empty paddock, Charles turns to you.

“I have to go back to my garage, but please Y/n, if you ever need to talk, call me? I want to help you, I don’t want to see you like this again” The Monegasque brings you into a hug.

“I know, Charles, I will” You promise.

“Okay, I’ll see you before Vegas, yes? Feel better!” He calls as he moves backwards and further into the paddock.

“You promise?”

Lewis asks you hours later in the front of the airport in England, just about to get into separate cars.

“Yes, Lewis, I’ll call when I need” You say to the older man in a hug.

“Alright, text me when you’ve made it home and make sure you get some rest. Don’t be too hard on yourself either, you don’t give yourself enough credit for everything you do” You smile at him.

“Okay, I’ll see you before Vegas?”

“See you before Vegas!” He shouts from his already-closed car door.

When you do see the two next, they make sure you’ve made an appointment with a therapist and are setting up a meeting with your PR manager to put together a statement in regards to your well-being the past two months.

Charles and Lewis make sure the media inside the paddock is severely monitored and checked before being allowed near the drivers, and help you fall back into healthier habits.

These changes don’t happen overnight, and they don’t take affect overnight, but you do use the winter off season to make sure these changes are helpful and working.

The three month break is utilized to mentally and physically prepare yorself in time for your 2024 seat at Alpha Tauri that was re-confirmed after your P8 finishes in Las Vegas and Abu Dhabi.

The media still knows everything, and you haven’t completely forgotten your childhood, you never will, but dealing with it still gets easier.

#formula 1 #reader insert #driver reader #f1 grid x reader #formula 1 driver imagines #platonic f1 grid #f1 2023 grid x y/n #f1 imagine #female driver reader #comfort fic #angst with a happy ending #angst #please look at trigger warning before you read #lewis hamilton #charles lecrelc #platonic lewis hamilton #platonic charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #lewis hamilton x reader

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dancinglikebutterflywings · 4 months ago

Text

Butt Hunted.

-> Pairing: Lee Know x Reader

-> Request: This is a repost from my old account

-> Synopsis: Not even Reader is safe from her boyfriend's butt hunting ways.

-> Warnings: Butt slapping/gropping.

-> Word Count: 317

-> Requests: Closed. I will make a post when they are open again.

Lee Know Masterlist | Stray Kids Masterlist

©️ 2024 dancinglikebutterflywings - do not copy/modify/repost anywhere. Likes, comments & reblogs are welcomed and appreciated, thank you.

Y/N is minding her own business, getting the housework done with her earbuds in and Stray Kid’s new album playing loudly in her ears. Bending over to pick up the throw blanket off the floor, she feels something hard collide with her butt.

She yelps in pain and shock, feeling the sting of the slap. Twisting around, she pulls her earbuds from her ears and finds the culprit standing there with a huge grin on his face, looking very proud of himself. She should have known it would be her boyfriend. Lee Minho is after all known as a butt hunter.

"Did you just slap my butt?" A part of her is annoyed but it being Minho, she expected it. He takes every opportunity that's given to him to slap someone’s butt. If it isn’t one of the guys, it’s hers.

“Warn me next time you do that,” she scolds him with no real anger in her voice.

“I’m sorry, baby,” he apologizes with a smirk on his lips, one of his hands moving behind her as he rubs the spot he slapped.

“No, you’re not,” she says knowing how her boyfriend is.

“No, I’m not,” he continues to smirk. Pressing a kiss to her lips, he gently gropes her butt before patting it and letting her go.

“When did you get here?” she asks, moving on from incident now that her butt cheek is no longer stinging.

“A few minutes ago,” he tells her. “I did knock but you weren’t answering so I used my key.”

“Sorry, I had my music turned up,” she says holding up her earbuds to show him. “I was listening to the new album. It’s so good. You guys killed it again. I'm so proud of you all.” she compliments him as her hands cup his face and bring him in for another kiss.

His face flushes red. “Thank you, Jagi.”

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babyleostuff · 4 months ago

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[ 💿 ] . . . TAPE 13

알잖아 어차피 쉬운 일은 없지만서도 / 난 네가 있어서 모두 다 괜찮아 / 사랑은 내게 다른 게 아니고 / 사진 속 우리의 웃음이 다야

☁️ "snap shoot" by seventeen

being loved by lee chan means having someone who will never shy away from telling how much he loves you. “simp” or “down bad” - not everyone likes being called those things, some even think that love makes them appear weak or pathetic, and they avoid talking about their feelings like fire. not chan. he is so proud to be able to call you his, that he’s not able to shut up about how much he loves you, and there’s not an ounce of embarrassment when he talks about you, and what you mean to him. chan never says “i love you” quietly just because other people are around, nor does he kiss your cheek goodbye instead of your lips when you’re around your friends. he needs you to know how much he loves you.

being loved by lee chan means having someone who’ll treat you like your the most precious thing on the earth. chan worships the ground you’re walking on, you’re everything to him, and there is nothing that he wouldn’t do for you. not because he’s easy to manipulate or take advantage of because of his kind nature, but because that’s what you deserve. you deserve to be treated with utmost care, and love, and chan would rather set himself on fire than let you think that you deserve anything less.

being loved by lee chan means having someone who you can grow old with. chan loves love, and he loves you, and he adores the idea of having that special someone with whom he can explore his life with, get to know himself with, go through hardships with - someone with whom you can finally grow old with. there’s something beautiful about living through your 20s with the love of your life as people who start to explore adult life together, and then be able to reminisce about it when you’re grey and old.

being loved by lee chan feels like the smell of roses, like a fluffy blanket, like running through the field on a summer day, like happiness, like innocent and child-like love, like hope.

“having begun to love you, i love you forever—in all changes, in all disgraces, because you are yourself." ― thomas hardy, tess of the d’urbervilles

taglist (if you want to be added, check my masterlist): @jeonghansshitester @weird-bookworm @sea-moon-star @hanniehaee @wonwooz1 @byprettymar @edgaralienpoe @staranghae @itza-meee @eightlightstar @immabecreepin @whatsgyud @hyneyedfiz @honestlydopetree @vicehectic @dkswife @uniq-tastic @marisblogg @aaniag @daegutowns @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @embrace-themagic @ohmyhuenings @nidda13 @hrts4hanniehae @k-drama-adict @isabellah29 @f4iryjjosh @bangantokchy @mrswonwooo @bangtancultsposts @lllucere @athanasiasakura @onlyyjeonghan @haecien @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @hannahhbahng @valgracia @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @mirxzii @hhusbuds @wonranghaeee @rosiesauriostuff @gyuguys @tomodachiii @veryfabday @lilmochiandsuga @asasilentreader @mrsnervous @bewoyewo @sharonxdevi @wondipity @gyuguys @raginghellfire @treehouse-mouse @waldau @wonootnoot @hellodefthings @dokyeomkyeom @sourkimchi @bbysnw @hoichi02 @aaa-sia @haneulparadx @minvrsev @zozojella @wonootnoot @kimingyuslover @wntrei @honglynights @jihoonsbbygirl @uhdrienne @bloodcanbehot

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mattscoquette · 26 days ago

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𝑻𝑹𝑬𝑬𝑯𝑶𝑼𝑺𝑬 - 𝑻𝑾𝑶 | 𝑴𝑨𝑻𝑻 𝑺𝑻𝑼𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑶𝑳𝑶

𝒊𝒏 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒄𝒉 .. two best friends are separated and reconnect after years spent apart

mentions of alcohol, cursing, takes place in a bar

1.7k

introduction 1 3 4 5 6

loud music and the swarm of bodies filled the crowded room as you tried maneuvering your way around the sea of people in the bar. with a drink in each hand, one for you and the other for your friend, you attempted to make your way back to the dance floor from the bar and not spill the two vodka cranberries you were holding. you were back at home in boston, visiting the family you had here. since moving to virginia all those years ago, you had only been back home a handful of times, but only ever around the holidays for a couple of days. a few short months after you moved, the stress of being all alone and starting high school really got to both you and matt, which caused you both to slowly drift apart. by the time sophomore year started, you had already gone three months with no contact, and never spoke again after that. whenever you were up visiting, you always hoped to bump into him somewhere, but it never happened. it was now spring break of your junior year in college, and you decided to spend the week in boston, seeing old friends and family.

the high heels you had decided on wearing tonight were not working in your favor, your ankles buckling nearly every five seconds as people continuously bumped into you. you were almost successful in making it back to your friend, when someone had accidentally nudged your arm walking past you, spilling one of the drinks. cursing under your breath, you made the mistake of turning your head back at the contact and stoping dead in your tracks. then, another person walked right into you, causing your other drink to pour all over the small black dress you were wearing.

“fuck,” the stranger mumbled, as you looked down at your now sopping wet dress, “i’m so sorry, let me buy you another one.”

you sighed, looking up, about to take the man up on his offer when your eyebrows furrowed. although the man had a frenzy expression on his face as he rambled about not watching where he was going, you knew that face anywhere. the blue eyes were a dead giveaway.

“matt?” you said, eyes darting all across his face in the dim lighting of the bar.

he froze, scanning you up and down. “y/n?”

you both broke out into ridiculously big grins, your arms flinging around his neck as you pulled him into a hug. arms wrapping around your waist, matt held onto you tightly as he picked you up, spinning you in a circle as he laughed.

you squealed, burying your face in his neck as he placed you back down onto the ground, his hands still holding your hips.

“how are you?” he asked, squeezing your sides lightly.

“i’m good,” you smiled up at him, “really good. what about you?”

“i’m doing great,” he told you, returning the smile, “you up visiting family?”

you nodded your head.

he grinned down at you, letting his hands fall from your waist. he offered a lingering smile before speaking up. “let me buy you a drink,” he said, “y’know, cause the other one kinda got all over you.”

you giggled, nodding your head in agreement as matt led you to the bar, finding you both an empty spot while he leaned against the counter ordering you more drinks.

while he spoke, you couldn’t help but let your eyes wander all over his features, smiling to yourself at how much older he looked. the last time you saw matt, he was a good three inches shorter than you, his voice still squeaky. his hair was always combed back, showing off his bright blue eyes and baby face. now, you had to look up, even in your heels, to make eye contact with matt. his neon outfits were swapped out for baggy jeans and a hoodie, and a slight stubble adorning his jaw. his hair was longer than you’d ever seen it. messy and falling into his eyes every so often, he’d drag his ring clad hand through it.

matt smirked down at you, catching you staring when he finished ordering. “what’re you looking at, y/n?”

you smiled sheepishly, twirling the ends of your hair. “you. you just look so different.”

matt laughed. “good different or bad different?”

“good different. like, really, really good different.”

he chuckled, shaking his head and peering down at you. you, too, looked much older than he’d seen you last. although you hadn’t grown much, your legs seemed to be miles long. you grew into your body, having less of the lanky and awkward teenage look. you were wearing a slim black dress that fit you in all the right spots, your tits nearly spilling out of the top, the bottom no longer than mid thigh. “you don’t look to bad yourself, now.”

you playfully pushed his shoulder, earning a smile from matt. “what have you been up to? do you still live here?”

he shook his head, leaning one arm against the bar as he faced you. “nah, me, nick, and chris moved to LA a couple years back, we do youtube.”

your face dropped, lighting smacking his arm. “no fucking way.”

matt laughed, nodding his head.

“matt!” you exclaimed with a smile, pulling him down into a hug “that is so cool! i remember that’s all you and your brothers wanted to do when we were all younger.”

he smiles widely too, hugging you back and resting his chin atop your head. “i know, it’s fucking wild.” when he pulled away, he wasn’t subtle about eyeing you up and down for about the fifth time tonight. “what’ve you been doing since you moved?”

you sigh with a small smile, running a hand over your hair. “y’know, the usual, went to high school, graduated, now i’m in college.”

matt laughs, teasingly poking your side. “college, yeah? you still a little smarty pants?”

you grin, shoving his hand away and nodding. the two of you just stand there, smiling at one another, completely oblivious to your surroundings. you’re about to say something, when the bartender slides to glasses next to you, filled with the drinks you had spilled earlier. you look down at them, then back up at matt, deciding your friend can wait a bit longer.

“y’know, i really, really missed you.” you spoke softly, almost so quiet that the loud music nearly drowned out your voice.

matt sighed, taking a step a bit closer to you, debating if he should reach his hand out and trace shapes on your arm. you and matt were always a bit more touchy than most friends were, but it never bothered you both, so why should you stop? but he had to remember you both weren’t twelve anymore, and you haven’t been twelve in a long, long time. he instead nodded gently, ducking his head down to speak quietly like you. “i have too.”

you look up at him, taking in all of his features. although he was much more grown now, you could still see your old best friend in him. the young boy who you spent every second of your childhood was still there, and he was standing right in front of you. “why did we stop talking?”

“i don’t know,” matt mumbled, his expression almost longing and sad, “i think the distance just became too much.”

“i don’t get how it did,” you said so quiet, matt wouldn’t have heard you if he didn’t see your lips move, “we were best friends.”

were. that four letter word hit him in the heart harder than it should have. but were you wrong? he hadn’t spoken to you in about five years, and hadn’t physically seen you in seven. if someone asked him earlier today who his best friend was, he’d probably say his brothers or nathan, not the girl who moved to virginia when they were fourteen. but right now in this moment, you were his best friend. despite all the time that had slipped past you both, matt was willing to make up for it. he couldn’t bare to the thought of watching you leave again.

“how long are you in boston for?” he blurted out, not even thinking.

“until next friday.” you said softly.

next friday. that gave him six days to rekindle seven years of lost friendship. he could do it. “and what’re you doing tomorrow?”

you grin. “i’m free all day.”

matt is smiling even wider now, reaching down into his pocket and handing you his phone. “here, put your number in, i’ll call tomorrow and we can do something, yeah?”

taking his phone from his hand, you can’t help the excited smile that broke across your face. a whole day with matt. just like it used to be. it sounded perfect. you happily typed your contact information in, giggling as you handed the phone back to matt. he looked down to see what had you so giggly, smiling when he saw it. his childhood nickname for you as the contact name.

he grinned back up at you, shaking his head. same old y/n. “see you tomorrow then?”

“see you tomorrow.” you said excitedly, pulling matt down into a hug. he hugged you back instantaneous, the feeling so natural to him even after all the time had gone by. the hug lingered, neither of you ready to let go. your face was buried in his shoulder, his in your hair. “i missed this a lot.”

“me too.” matt mumbled back, deeply inhaling the scent of your shampoo. he closed his eyes, and just for a second, he could feel the summer sun on his skin and hear the sound of the moving van leaving your curb. he pulled away, holding onto your hips and giving you one last once over before letting go. “bye y/n/n.”

you smiled brightly, standing on your tip toes to gently cup his jaw, planting a soft kiss to his cheek, your lipstick staining his pale skin. “bye matty.”

he stood there nearly in shock, smiling weakly as he watched you grab your drinks, disappearing into the sea of people. you turned back one last time to smile at him, before he lost you yet again. when he knew you were completely out of sight, he gently pressed a hand to where you had kissed him, his skin still tingling.

𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓'𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆: part twooooo !!!!!!! thank u all sm for all the love on the first chapter it makes me SO happy yall r just as excited :,( anyway i hope everyone enjoys the cuteness while it lasts 😁😁😁 LOVE U ALL <33🤍🤍🤍!!!!!!

#© mattscoquette #writing 𓂃 𝜗𝜚 #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo angst #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo angst #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo fanfic #Spotify

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kyufessions · 9 months ago

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sweetheart

synopsis: your annoying neighbor bothers you yet again

pairings: neighbor! eric x afab! reader

genre: smut, 18+

request: “open your mouth” + “why so shy?”

word count: 2.2k

warnings: spitting, oral (f. receiving), making out, playful teasing, pet name (sweet heart), lmk if i missed anything!

a/n: i’m writing this half asleep so it’s not proofread whatsoever,, oopsies

general taglist: @jwnghyuns @eaudenana @soobin-chois @haechansbbg

tbz taglist: @ilovechanhee

Only if everyone knew. Only if everyone knew that the boy next door you always swore annoyed you to your very core since you had first moved in over ten years ago, would meet you in your old tree house that stood between both of your houses at ungodly hours. With what started as another night wanting to get away from one of your family’s parties, turned into heated makeout sessions that led to what anyone would imagine.

Throughout the years, your father had been kind enough to re-do the treehouse. Seeing as you still adored it, he re-vamped it to make it seem more private and to your liking since you were now in your early 20’s. There was even a small makeshift door and small windows with curtains that you often kept closed- it was your favorite place to get away from madness when your room wasn’t cutting it. That was- until one spring night.

You had been in your treehouse reading a new novel you had bought at your local barnes and nobles, your lamp on and one of curtains slightly open to enjoy the slight breeze. Tonight your parents had some guests over from work, their conversations and jazzy background music being too loud for your liking. So you quietly made your way to your treehouse and enjoying your time alone until you heard some rocks being thrown at the door. Groaning, you ignored the disturbance. You knew exactly who it was and you did not want to deal with him tonight. One more rock, two, even three more were thrown. Thats when you stood up and fully opened up the half drawn curtain, looking down to see the annoying boy next door.

He stood there with his devilish grin, wearing a white tank and his baseball varsity jacket from the college he attended. He waved hello as soon as he saw you looking down at him, catching a glimpse of you from the limited lighting. “What do you want eric?” you shouted down, making sure your voice was only able to be heard between you both and not to disrupt what was happening inside your home.

He shrugged, his grin never fading. “I’m bored.” as you rolled your eyes and started to pull back down the curtain, he yelled back out to you. “Wait!”

You shushed him right away, his voice too loud for your liking. As you motion for him to come up the wooden ladder, he does as instructed and you watch as he climbs up halfway before you stop him with your words. “What do you want?” you ask again, annoyance stringing through your voice.

His lips form another shit eating grin. “I’m bored and saw the light on.”

“Find someone else to bother.” you start to close the door but see his hand stop it from closing.

Before you can begin to speak up again, eric decides to first. “Come on, i’ll stay in the corner and let you do your own thing. I won’t bother you. I just don’t want to be in my house right now and am grounded from using my car.”

“Is no an option?” you ask him with a puff. With a swift shake of his head, you open the door fully and allow him inside.

He looks around in amazement at the fairy lights and overall set up, noticing how you plop back on the mini couch you have set up in the corner. His eyes scan over a small drawer with a chipped paint job, old drawings and paintings hanging throughout that’s barely holding on with tape and some nails. There are some obvious new items hanging about and some older ones, and he quietly takes note of that as he walks around to inspect. As he does so, you occasionally glance at him to make sure hes not touching anything he isn’t supposed to. After a little more snooping, he takes a seat on the floor and starts aimlessly scrolling through his phone while you continue to read your novel.

Minutes pass in pure silence- nothing but the occasional hoot from a faraway owl and the distanced sound of jazz music from your home below. That was, until eric opened tiktok. His volume was louder than necessary, his laughter echoing in your ears. You try to continue your reading, trying to be the nice guy. But it felt as if each tiktok he watched just made him laugh harder than the last. You make a mental note of the page you stop on before closing your book and looking over at him, your face blank with irritation.

“If you’re going to be in here, can you at least quiet down? I’m trying to read my book.” your eyes finally meet and he just chuckles, getting up off the floor and walking over towards you.

“What’re you reading anyway?”

You clear your throat before speaking as he inches closer, trying to keep your book close to hide it from him. “None of your business, just please keep it down.”

Eric notices you trying to keep the book from him and as he steps closer he tries reaching for it but failing as you hold it closer to you. He scoffs, trying to reach for it again. “Why so shy about it, huh?” his tone is playful, his eyes beaming with curiosity as he tries to sneak a peek of the cover. You try moving your body to hide it from him but as you’re squirming, he snatches up the book and examines the cover. A small laugh leaves his lips as he notices the explicit cover, your face turning a slight shade of pink as he then reads the first page that started off juicy. When he looks down at you, your cheeks are now red and your eyes wide. “This is the shit you read?”

You stand up and grab the book back from his hands, or at least attempt to before he raises it above your head with a smirk. The height difference between you both wasn’t much, but the fact he was also wearing grey sweats right now didn’t really help the burning sensation growing in the pit of your stomach. To say eric was ugly would be the biggest lie- you actually found him quite attractive. He was just annoying and pestered you often, but he was quite handsome. As his hand was held above you, your book in his hand, you can notice his peaking bicep from under his varsity jacket.

Your silence and wandering eyes failed you as eric took note of this. “Checking me out, huh?”

As you're snapped out of your daze by his words, you jump up and grab the book from his hand successfully and try to move around him to leave but fail. Although your treehouse is spacious, it’s not the biggest either. So now you’re backed into a corner by the hot annoying neighbor who just found out you read smut. Cool. you just sit down on the small couch, puffing in annoyance in an attempt to hide how flustered you’ve become.

“No i’m not.”

His index and middle finger tap the right side of your cheek, a smirk playing on his lips. “Your red cheeks say otherwise, sweetheart.”

Normally you'd swat away his hand, but as you looked in his eyes you felt the air catch in your throat. You felt as if time had stopped due to the close proximity you both were in. the little nickname that normally bothered you made your stomach churn with butterflies, your hands gripping your book tighter.

you tried to hide it once more, trying to keep your tone high and mighty. “don’t call me sweetheart.”

“then try to act like you don’t like it and maybe i will.” eric then squats so he’s now eye level with you, his fingers tracing from your cheek all the way down your neck and to your shoulder ever so gracefully as he does so. your eyes just watch him, unsure of what this feeling is that’s come over you. his head tilts, his face amused by this. “does mommy and daddy know you read smut all up here by yourself?”

eric had always seen you as this goody-two-shoes; mommy and daddy’s most prized possession who always got fantastic grades and went to one of the best colleges the states had to offer. throughout the past ten years, he had always seen you achieve the highest possible grades with honors just to seek your parents approval. never brought over a guy, your nose always buried in a book whether it be for your studies or for fun. he also noticed how your hair never failed to be done perfectly, different colored bows or hair accessories to match your dress or skirt. you always had to present the world with this perfect image of you, and he was just so curious to get to know you deeper than this facade you try to sell everyone you come across.

he watches you shake your head, no words being spoken as you seem choked up. your eyes sparkle under the dimly lit fairy lights as they glare at him, causing him to chuckle lowly yet again. “what if they found out?”

“don’t you fucking dare eric sohn-“

“ah ah,” he slips the book from your hands, placing it beside you. “why don’t we put page one to the test?”

your eyes widen, eyebrows raising. “e-excuse me?”

eric slips off his varsity jacket, tossing it on top of your book. “i skimmed the page over. doesn’t ellen get eaten out, or am i mistaken?” you’re left speechless, yet your face continues to redden all over. eric has thought about this for years but never thought this day would come, only in his wildest of dreams.

eric stands up a little bit to hover over you, lifting your chin and leaning down to rest his forehead against yours as he stares deeply into your eyes. his hair is messy, probably from the baseball practice he had earlier in the day. your lips are inches from his, yet not a word can be spoken as you’re just in shock.

“all you have to do is tell me to stop and i will.” is all eric whispers before placing his lips on yours.

both of your lips move in sync with one another, his fitting perfectly on yours. his hand moves from your shoulder to your cheek, his entire palm cupping it and his fingers placing themselves on the nape of your neck. his touch sends shivers down your spine, his fingertips delicate and careful. his other hand moves to your left thigh, starting to spread it apart from your right one. but you don’t stop him, something within you tells you to allow him. as he bites down on your bottom lip, his hand on your thigh travels to the inner part and stops near your panties. his fingertips graze your folds, the lace material feeling good against his skin.

the sound of your whimper against his lips makes his blood rush, separating his lips from yours. for a few moments he just stares down at you, taking in the view of your wide innocent eyes and puffy pink lips. “fuck you’re so pretty, you know that?”

eric then gets on his knees in front of you, and you watch as he slips off your white silk pleated skirt and stare at your pussy in awe. “all wet for me already, sweetheart?” you bite your lower lip as you watch him, arching your back against the wall at the nickname.

his fingers push the fabric aside, the fingertips grading your folds ever so slightly to take in the beauty for a second. he grins up at you before slipping in one finger, earning a gasp from you. eric starts slow, pumping in and out of you teasingly. he just stares up at you the whole time, taking in the beauty of your reactions. he watches your hand involuntarily reach for his hair, tugging on it once he picks up the pace out of satisfaction. you let out quiet moans as he slips in a second finger, not wanting anyone to potentially hear anything happening up in the treehouse.

after a few moments of his second finger, he puts his mouth to your clit. with this sudden movement you throw your head back, starting to grind against his face. eric takes in every movement you make, enjoying how you use him for your advantage to release. his fingers continue pumping in and out of you at a consistent pace, his tongue occasionally moving in and out of your hole as his lips continue to satisfy you. as your breathing pattern picks up and your legs begin shaking, he knew it was only a few seconds before you climaxed.

once you did, you let out a loud moan and eric took in every juice you offered to him. he begins licking you up, cleaning you up the only way he’s currently able to. he then leans up, grabbing you by the cheek and staring down at your tired face.

“open your mouth, baby.” he murmurs. you do as instructed, allowing him to spit in your mouth. you watch him through half-lidded eyes, smirking as you take in the taste he offers you.

and that’s the night where it all started, your friends with benefits relationship with your annoying neighbor.

#kyufessions the boyz #the boyz #the boyz eric #eric sohn #tbz eric #tbz smut #the boyz smut #eric smut #eric sohn smut #🌙 completed requests

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babymetaldoll · 1 year ago

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BFF (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)

Summary: Spencer meets his best friend from school after 12 years apart. Requested: Yes, a million years ago... sorry for the delay! Warnings: None. I don't even think I cursed. Category: Hardcore fluff A/N: Hey!! I'm still alive! Masterlist

Spencer Reid knew he had fallen in love. It happened when he was just eight years old and his heart had never beat for another girl again, not the same way after he met her. (Y/N), his neighbor, three doors down the block.

Never, and he was 24 years old already.

It all started on a random afternoon after school.

- “You are such a nerd, Reid!”- Spencer heard a boy yelling as he shoved him down to the ground. Reid grabbed his glasses and made sure to keep them safe and in place, even when he was on the ground. The other kid, Lucas, was two years older, and for some other reason, that was nothing but kids being cruel, he had always treated Spencer like scum. And that day wasn’t the exception.

- “Why are you so mean?”- Spencer whispered as he tried to stand up, but Lucas shoved him back to the ground, mocking him.

- “Why are you so mean”- and the kid chuckled- “I don’t know, why are you such a baby?”

- “Didn’t your mom tell you you should never hit a kid wearing glasses?”- (Y/N) shouted as she stared at the scene from a safe distance, holding her bike. Spencer turned to look at her and for a moment, he thought what he was feeling was a panic attack. His heart kept beating faster and faster as he stared at the girl in awe.

- “Stay out of this, girl”- Lucas yelled and clenched his fist looking at little (Y/N). But she didn’t seem to be afraid. In fact, she left the bike on the ground and walked a few steps closer.

- “Why are you calling me “girl” like it’s a bad thing?”

Spencer looked at her with wide-open eyes. Sixteen years had passed since that day, but he could never forget the way she stood completely fearless in front of a bigger boy, and crossed her arms on her chest, almost daring him to reply.

- “Why are you defending the nerd? Are you in love with him?”- Lucas teased and shoved the girl. But instead of tumbling or even falling, the girl moved faster and kicked him right in the balls. Lucas yelled and fell on the grass, crying in pain. (Y/N) quickly grabbed her bike and turned to Spencer.

- “This is when you run!”

He had never felt his heart skip a beat the way it did that day. He was only eight years old, and it never happened again.

- “What’s your name?”- the girl asked when they reached her front porch, running away from danger.

- “Spencer”- he whispered as he tried to catch his breath.

- “I’m (Y/N), do you want some juice?”

And just like that, Spencer Reid had a friend. He followed her into her house and froze when he saw two older kids, around Luca’s age, in the living room watching tv.

- “Those are my brothers, you can ignore them. I do.”- she explained as she kept walking.

- “So you finally made a friend or are you forcing the kid to hang out with you?”- one of them asked and the other chuckled. But (Y/N) didn’t reply. She walked straight to the fridge, grabbed two juice boxes and some cookies, and continued her way to the backyard. Spencer followed her closely, climbed to her treehouse with her, and shared a snack.

That was the first of many afternoons they spent together. In the years to follow, (Y/N) and Spencer became best friends. It didn’t matter that he was already in high school by the time she was in middle school. He always took the time to help her with her homework and tutored her in math and chemistry. And she always got his back. Whenever there was a bully around, an asshole making him miserable, or anyone trying to make fun of Spencer, she was there. Kicking ass.

Kids in school would make fun of them, telling them she was his bodyguard, his guard dog. Someone even drew them in the gym locker room. Spencer was a bunny and (Y/N) was a wolf. It was supposed to make them mad, but they didn’t care. They had their own bubble, their world. And they loved it there.

Until Spencer had to go. They were twelve, and Spencer had already graduated from high school. Caltech was waiting for him.

(Y/N) stood by the car as Diana loaded a few boxes. They had to move to Pasadena, and even though neither of them said a thing about their feelings, it was clearly heartbreaking for the two of them.

- “You are not gonna cry, are you?”- she joked as Spencer tightened his jaw and cleaned his glasses with his shirt. He didn’t reply, he was in fact, fighting the tears back.

- “Who is gonna save your ass whenever you are in trouble now?”- (Y/N) asked and punched Spencer’s arm softly- “I should have taught you how to fight. You could have a black belt by now.”

- “Did you know the best age to start martial arts class with a good balance of discipline and commitment is from eight to twelve-year-old?”- Spencer blurted facts because that was the only thing that made him feel safe.

- “Well, make sure you take a self-defense course in Caltech or whatever. Don’t let anyone kick your ass”- she added and he friend just nodded. They stared in silence for a moment, until Diana called her son, ready to go.

- “So… see you around?”- (Y/N) simply said and Spencer nodded.

- “Can I write to you?”

- “Sure! can I send you my homework, so you can do it for me?”- both of them chuckled. Spencer wanted to hug her, but even after all those years, he still didn’t feel comfortable enough to do it. So he just waved, and she waved back, and before he could comprehend what was happening, he was in a car with his mom, driving from his home to a new destination.

- “I’m gonna miss you.”- (Y/N) whipped off the tears from her eyes as she stood in the middle of the sidewalk staring at the car. She didn’t know why she couldn’t just tell her best friend those words instead of making fun of him, but she figured she didn’t want him to think she was weak. He made her feel that way. Weak. Soft. Giddy. Nervous.

She had a crush on him, obviously. No wonder why she had spent over four years defending him from every bully in school. She never told him, though. She felt so stupid, so silly, and so freaking girly, she couldn’t stand it. So she locked her feelings, hid them underneath thousand sarcastic, witty comments

- “Bye, (Y/N)”- Spencer whispered, staring at her through the rearview mirror, as tears kept falling from his eyes. He knew his heart was breaking, and there was nothing he could do about it.

Skip twelve years, and Spencer still cherished every letter he had shared with (Y/N). They had long stopped writing to each other, but he always wanted to find her again. He missed her, like a part of his life that had been ripped from his chest, from his fingers. From his heart. But life was now filled with chaos. He worked at the BAU, he chased serial killers for a living. He didn’t have time for his personal life. He only had time for work.

- “Local police department asked us to assist on a case”- Hotch announced early that morning at the briefing meeting of the team. Spencer looked at the Unit Chief and nodded, taking notes on the case they had to help with. They had worked with the local police a bunch of times, and so far it had been a good experience.

- “I heard there is a new Sergeant in that department.”- Morgan comments as he drove with Spencer to the city police office - “As far as I know, she is very young but severe. Some of the officials said they were scared of her.”

- “Most men are threatened by female bosses.”- Spencer replied, reading the case file for the fifth time during the trip. He didn’t take his eyes off the paper as he added - “A study indicates that women in positions of authority meet with more resistance in their interactions with male employees because those men perceive female bosses as a threat to their masculinity.”

- “And how would you deal with a female boss? Can you picture a woman as Unit Chief?”- Derek was just teasing his friend, mostly ‘cos he was bored.

- “I don’t feel threatened by women.”- Spencer nearly stuttered as he replied, which made his words considerably unbelievable.

- “Yeah, that’s not what I remember from the last time you talked with a woman.”- Morgan just chuckled and shook his head.

- “Shut up.”

Hotch, Gideon, Elle, Morgan, and Spencer walked into the police station. The Unit Chief and Gideon headed straight to the chief’s office, and the rest of the team waited in the bullpen. Most of the officers were there, doing paperwork, nothing out of the ordinary. Until one voice captured Spencer’s attention.

- “How many times do I have to tell you, Smith? You can’t make that kind of desitions on your own? What if someone got hurt again?”- (Y/N) was scolding a young official, who glued his eyes to the floor, embarrassed. - “Now go before you get another suspension.”

- “(Y/N)?”- Spencer whispered and turned to her. He was beyond shocked, not even in his wildest dreams he thought he would see her again.

- “It’s Sergeant (Y/L/N).”- (Y/N) corrected and looked at the young agent. And for a moment, she forgot where she was. She opened her mouth, but not even one word came from her lips. There he was, her first love, looking cuter than ever.

- “Hi.”- Reid mumbled and waved. She stood in the middle of the police office and simply stared at him in silence.

No one understood what was going on. Morgan looked at Elle, who just shrugged. Everybody at that office was confused. The officials had never seen their Sergeant being emotional, and it was clear she was having a moment, right there in front of everybody.

Suddenly, (Y/N) took a step closer to Reid, and then another, until she stood right in front of him and wrapped his arms around his neck. He moved immediately and hugged her tight. That was the very first time they hugged.

- “Are you really here?”- she whispered and giggled, moving from him and staring t him with a big smile - “Is it really you, Spencer Walter Reid?”

- “Walter?”- Elle tried not to laugh and looked at Morgan, who seemed to be trying not to laugh as well.

- “When did you move to DC?”- Spencer asked, staring at his best friend, neither of them moving from each other’s embrace.

- “Last month! How long have you been here?”

- “Two years. I lost track of you after Caltech. I missed you.”- Spencer confessed right away, and (Y/N) nodded.

- “Me too… and what are you doing here?”

- “The team was called to collaborate on a case.”

- “You are with the FBI?”- (Y/N) wide opened her eyes, surprised- “Look at you, Smarty.”

- “Reid.”- Hotch interrupted their reunion and took them back to reality in a second. (Y/N) let Spencer go immediately and stood straight.

- “Nice to meet you. Seargent (Y/L/N).”- (Y/N) extended her hand to Hotch, who shook it right away.- “The Chief told us you were coming to help with the case. Thank you for your time.”

- “(Y/N) is my best friend from school.”- Spencer explained to Hotch, and the team because they were all carefully listening.

- “Nice to meet you. I was just talking with the Chief, we are meeting at the briefing room now.”

Both (Y/N) and Spencer nodded and started walking, following the team. They had to make a major effort to focus on work. Neither of them could take their eyes off each other. Spencer kept smiling the whole time and looking at his best friend in adoration. Meanwhile, (Y/N) tried her best to remain calm. She felt exactly as she did when she was twelve. Her defense was down, Spencer made her feel weak and in love. Who knew first crushes could last that long?

By the end of the day, a team of police officials plus Morgan, Elle, and Hotch had gone after the unsub. Spencer, and (Y/N) remained at the station, along with the Chief and Gideon.

- “I still can’t believe you are here.”- Spencer whispered and looked at (Y/N), as the two of them stood in the middle of the kitchenette, getting another cup of coffee.

- “Me neither.”

- “I have so much to tell you. How are your brothers?”

- “Married and with kids. I still can’t believe they are responsible grown-ups.”

- “I might need proof to believe that as well.”- Reid smiled and (Y/N) chuckled at his words- “My mom still remembers you.”

- “How is she? I miss her classes and her reading sessions.”- Spencer opened his mouth to reply, but Gideon interrupted him.

- “They got him, we are ready to go.”- Reid nodded and turned to (Y/N), who sighed and cut him a short smile.

- “At what time does your shift end?”- the young agent asked her.

- “Two and a half hours ago, yours?”- she replied with a soft chuckle.

- “I think I am free now… do you want a better quality coffee?”- both of them smiled and looked at the mugs.

- “And maybe something to eat. I’m starving.”

- “Are you still a fan of Mexican food?”- Spencer asked and (Y/N) could barely hide the blush on her cheeks.

- “You still remember that?”

- “I remember everything.”

Reid and (Y/N) walked around after dinner. They had spent their time catching up with everything they had done since the last letter they had shared. He told her about college, his master's degrees, and PhDs. She told him about how she became a sergeant at such young age, and how she ended up in Washington DC.

They walked arm in arm under the starry sky, like time hadn’t passed by. They talked about everything they might think of. But there was one question Spencer needed to ask her before the night was finished.

- “I sent you so many letters after Caltech, but they all came back. They said “Not at this address”. Why didn’t you tell me you were moving?”

And that was the one question (Y/N) wasn’t longing to reply.

- “You were my best friend. My only friend and you disappeared. Why?”- Spencer stopped walking and looked at (Y/N). She sighed and bit her lips, trying to find the right words to explain her truth. It was hard, and she had tried her best to avoid it for too long. But if life had put Spencer back in her path, she couldn’t escape anymore.

- “I’m sorry I hurt you, Spencer.”- she whispered and took a few seconds before she added - “That wasn’t my intention.”

- “Then why did you disappear?”

- “I needed some distance”- she tried to explain, but Spencer frowned.

- “You and your family had moved to New York, I was in Los Angeles. We hadn’t seen each other in years. That wasn’t enough distance to you?”- (Y/N) had never heard Spencer raise his voice, but to be fair, they hadn’t talked about their feelings ever before.

- “I needed to get over you!”- she murmured and bit her lips one more time, obviously nervous about his reaction. She was trying to be honest. - “I couldn’t continue in love with my best friend forever. I had to move on! I was already eighteen and I never even had a date, ‘cos I was waiting for you.”

Spencer stared at her in shock. Of all the answers he thought he might get, that was not the one he imagined. He thought she was bored of him and grew tired of his letters. That she had more interesting things to do with her life than talking with a pen pal.

(Y/N) sighed, relieved to take that from her chest, but scared of Spencer’s answer. She stared at him for a few seconds, but he didn’t react. So, she continued walking and slowly left him behind.

Spencer tried to connect all that info, but he couldn’t believe it. He stared at her back as she walked and called out her name, jogging.

- “(Y/N), wait.”

- “No Spencer, it’s ok. You don’t have to say anything. I’m sorry I was so immature and hurt your feelings. I didn’t mean to… I wasn’t… I am so sorry.”- she blurted out and kept looking at her feet as she spoke.

- “Don’t be.”- the young SSA whispered and held her hands. She raised his eyes and stared into his. She could still see the same sweet kid she had met at eight years old. - “I am sorry I never told you how I felt either. I was just so scared to lose you, and I lost you anyway.”

The two of them stayed in silence, processing what had just happened. Neither of them moved. Neither of them knew what to say next. So they just stood in silence for a few minutes, Spencer kept holding her hands the entire time, slowly and carefully caressing her fingers.

- “So… what now?”- she finally whispered and Spencer sighed.

- “Would… you… like… going out on a date with me?”- he asked and (Y/N) was unable to control the smile on her face.

- “Are you serious? What did we just have? Dinner and ice cream count as a date.”- she teased him and Spencer blushed immediately.

- “Ok, would you like to go on another date with me?”

- “I would love to.”- she replied and started walking again, this time hand in hand with Spencer. He chuckled and stared at her from time to time.

- “What is it?”- (Y/N) asked, knowing he was looking at her. Spencer chucked again and stopped walking.

- “If this was a date…”- but he couldn’t finish his question, ‘cos (Y/N) held his face with both hands and kissed him. It was short and childish, and both of them seemed shocked after they parted.

- “... I was wondering if I could walk you home?”- Spencer finished asking, and (Y/N) closed her eyes embarrassed, and even held her breath.

- “Sorry… I thought you were….”- but this time, she couldn’t finish talking ‘cos Spencer held her face and kissed her. But that kiss was neither short nor childish. It was sweet and slow. Spencer kept rubbing his lips against hers, making her feel the entire world had stopped spinning.

- “Sorry… I couldn’t help myself.”- he whispered as he moved his lips from hers, still cupping her cheeks with both hands.

- “It’s ok.”- she managed to murmur as she giggled. - “I wanted to kiss you since we were twelve years old.”

- “Me too.”- he confessed and looked at her blushy cheeks, knowing he looked the same.

- “So, are you gonna walk me home?”- (Y/N) asked and felt Spencer hold her hand as they started walking again. He intertwined his fingers with her and turned to her for a second as they started talking again. He knew this time he wasn’t going to let her go.

Taglist General @spenxerslut @ash19871962 @muffin-cup @cynbx @meowiemari

Taglist Spencer @calm-and-doctor @malboroniights @lovejules888

#Spencer Reid #Spencer reid x reader #Criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x best friend #best friend to lovers #babymetaldoll writes #Yes I still write #spencer reid fanfic #mgg #matthew gray gubler #criminal mind fanfiction

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jogetsobsessed · 7 months ago

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Mud Puddles - Seth Clearwater

This is based on this request !! I had a lot of fun writing it, thank you so much to the anon who requested this! Also, I hit 100 followers, so yay! Thank you so much to everyone for being patient with me and my unreliable posting. I hope you all enjoy!

“Come on Y/N”, a squeaky voice called from ahead.

You bounded through the countless mud puddles littering the Clearwaters property, the heavy raindrops soaking through your clothes. But you didn't care.

You didn't care that the cold was reaching your bones or that the mud most likely had wrecked your favorite t-shirt.

No, you simply were having the time of your life, chasing after your best friend, who was equally as dirty (if not dirtier) than you.

It was some make-believe game that his older sister had taught the pair of you that had the two of you sliding all around the yard. Today marked the season's first “good” rain, turning the sizable lawn into your own slip-and-slide.

The game went on for hours, each of you taking countless turns at being game leader, trekking through the wilderness, finding different treasures to take back to your shared treehouse, one that his father had built the two of you as a shared birthday gift years ago.

Eventually, the chill did catch up to both of you, as you reluctantly marched back home, taking the time to jump in just a few more puddles. Once Seth had burst through his back door beckoning you to follow you were immediately stopped by his mother, who almost had a heart attack at the sight of him and you.

Head-to-toe mud was caked on your bodies.

“Seth Clearwater and Y/N Y/L/N what on earth were you two thinking”, Sue screeched as she rushed off to find towels to attempt to clean you off enough for her to get you home.

She was still yelling about how she couldn't believe the two of you managed to get that dirty in one afternoon and how you shouldn't be left unsupervised any longer. Leaving you and Seth standing in front of the sliding glass door, clothes dripping on the linoleum. You were focusing on the sound of your teeth chattering when you felt someone staring at you.

Your gaze tracked to your left and you saw your best friend, teeth chattering and looking like a drowned rat staring back at you. As soon as he saw you looking back at him a wicked grin broke out on his face and he threw his head back, howling with laughter.

Soon you joined him, laughing so hard that your cheeks started to hurt almost instantly. And there stood the two of you, ten years old, laughing until Sue came back in the room, accepting the towels she brought, and you happily agreed to stay for dinner.

Life couldn't get any better, not when you lived in Forks, down the street from your best friend on the entire planet.

The cruelness of reality caught up to you only a mere month later.

When your parents sat you down after you had got ready for bed one night and explained that in just a couple weeks you were going to be leaving your childhood home, and the town that you loved. They did their best to try and explain how it was a smart economical decision for your family, your dad got a new high-paying job. Bribery was their main tactic, explaining that you were going to get to decorate your new bedroom and pick out some new toys and clothes for your new school.

But it didn't matter.

Because all you heard was that you were moving twenty hours away.

Twenty hours away from your best friend.

It was like your entire world was crumbling apart. The light from within was blown out.

They promised that you would make new friends.

But you didn't want to make new friends, not when you had the best one in the entire world.

-------------------------

Rolling into town you truly had no plan.

Your mom had heard from an old coworker of hers that the Clearwaters still live in the same house from your childhood. Sue and Harry had always been the type of people with an open-door policy, and you were hoping that their generosity still stood to this day. “You're always welcome in our home Y/N’, Sue had told you all those years ago when you ran to their home, tears streaming down your face after your parents told you about the move. You didn't need a place to stay, just someone to talk to and catch you up on everything from the last ten years.

The turns in the road came to you naturally, it was like riding a bike, something you never truly forget. Crossing through Forks, turning left onto the reservation. And just like the drive through town, nothing had changed.

And when you came upon the familiar gravel driveway you felt like you were ten years old again.

------------

Your hand was hovering over the faded green door, the peeling paint revealing the old shade of brown it used to be.

Your thoughts were racing, what if Sue didn't recognize you, or thought it was weird you had just shown up out of the blue after all these years? Part of you wanted to turn around and haul ass back to San Diego, and just pretend that the past few days and this road trip didn't happen.

But you knew that if you showed up back home so soon you would look like a complete fool to your parents and your friends. You came all this way for this moment.

The sound of your knuckles rapping against the wood caused the sounds of someone moving about the kitchen to halt. Footsteps padding through the house were the next sound and you took a step back, preparing for whoever you were about to come face to face with.

“Y/N?” a voice said, completely startled.

“Sue!”, you mirrored, relieved to see the woman you once considered a second mom. She stared at you in shock before opening the storm door fully, ushering you inside, pulling you into a bone-crushing hug. Laughing you hugged her back, breathing in her familiar smell of pine and fresh bread. She pulled away but kept you in her outstretched grasp admiring you.

“I can not believe how grown up you are”, she fawned tears in her eyes.

“A decade away will do that to yah”, you said laughing slightly.

She ushered you through the house and into the kitchen. You sat on the barstool where she directed you, accepting the glass of water and a small plate of cookies she pushed in your direction. Comfortable silence fell over the two of you as she stood on the opposite side of the counter just gazing at the sight of you.

Conversation flowed freely after you broke the silence, complimenting her on the cookies.

You were in the middle of laughing at a story about Leah learning how to drive for the first time when the sound of the front door crashing open sounded through the house. Sue immediately rolled her eyes at the sound, muttering something inaudible under her breath.

Heavy stomps bounded into the kitchen but came to a sudden stop.

“Hey honey, we have a surprise visitor”

Slowly you pushed yourself around on the stool, taking in the sight in front of you.

Saying he was handsome was an understatement.

He stood tall, his tan complexion glistening with sweat and his jaw dropped to the floor. Your smile was weak as you watched his eyes look you over from head to toe, drinking in the sight of you.

His gaze drifted past you, looking at his mom who seemed to understand what was going on, even if you didn't.

Sue left the room, sliding past you and slipping out the back door. Leaving just you and Seth in the kitchen.

Slowly you slid off the stool and took a few steps towards him. As you approached a loud snort escaped you and you snapped your palm across your mouth trying to stifle your laughter.

“What is so funny?”, he questioned cocking an eyebrow.

Your laughter only got louder as you had to crane your neck back to meet his gaze. Confused he started to laugh a little too, rubbing the back of his neck as he glanced down at you.

“You were two inches shorter than me when I last saw you, that's what's so funny”.

His laugh was full this time, finally understanding where yours was coming from. Now he stood what seemed to be eight to ten inches taller than you, definitely surpassing six feet.

“I can't believe you're here, standing in my kitchen”, his voice was soft as if he didn't want to startle you, as if this was a dream. His hand slowly reached out towards yours. And when your two hands met you could have sworn you felt electricity. He coughed back another laugh, a nervous energy suddenly taking him over.

You rubbed your thumb over his unnaturally warm hand as you met his gaze again, giggling before you threw your hands around his neck. He faltered for a second before he wrapped his arms around your waist lifting you and tilting you around slightly. You squealed, caught off guard by the gesture, tightening your grip on him.

Seth sat you down and continued to stare at you, watching every slight movement you took, almost like he was afraid you would disappear. Tugging him towards the living room, the two of you sat on opposite ends of the loveseat, tucking your legs into your chest so you could turn and fully face him.

You wanted to know everything about him. Every detail about the past ten years of his life. Because even though it had been almost that long since the two of you had an actual conversation you still felt drawn to him. Like no time had passed at all. Looking at him behind the new adult body you still saw the ten-year-old that you had once loved.

Seth knew.

He knew from the moment that you turned around.

You were his person.

The imprint bond was just like everyone, all his brothers had explained it.

Suddenly Y/N was his reason for existing.

The same girl that he had been having dreams about since he was a child, the same girl who he had pined after, breaking down in secret whenever she got brought up in conversation. The same girl who had been missing for over half his life.

He had been able to communicate it with Sue by just the look in his eyes, and he was grateful she had gotten the hint and left the room. This was something that he needed to process with as few eyes on him as possible.

You were none the wiser, simply laughing about the reversed height difference the two of you now shared. Why would you know, you hadn't been around when Seth phased for the first time or experienced the hellish year that followed the Cullen's returning from their short time away from Forks.

And he was glad. You had been kept safe, far away from the danger that the supernatural world possessed.

Seth wanted to tell you, he wanted to tell everyone. Something deep inside of him was telling him to jump up and scream it from the rooftops, you were his imprint.

But he knew he couldn't. At least not right now.

You didn't have the slightest clue about anything supernatural, so he certainly couldn't start by telling you that the two of you were meant to be together. That the two of you were going to be tied together for the rest of your lives.

So for now, he didn't.

For now, he relished in your company, listening intently as you told him about your life. About everything he had missed during your absence from Forks.

And he was content, someday you would know. But not today.

#edward cullen #fanfic #imprint #paul lahote #paul lahote x reader #twilight #x reader #sam uley #fem reader #seth clearwater #seth clearwater x reader #seth clearwater imagine #twilight fanfiction #the twilight saga #twilight wolfpack #twilight wolfpack x reader #jogetsobsessed

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sunboki · 6 months ago

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— BRIGHTER PLACES. a Lee Felix fiction

Chef! Lee Felix x gn. reader

TROPE. cooking class au, childhood friends to lovers, reader is burnt out and slightly depressed, coincidences, fluff, angst

WARNINGS. mentions of depression/depressive episodes, mentions of unrequited love, burn out, reader is used by her boss, felix is the biggest sweetheart to exist

AUG'S NOTES. was intended to be posted much earlier than this but i’m still glad that, with life being so busy, i managed to finish it! this piece is only the start of many emotional pieces over the summer so stay tuned please! hopefully you enjoy 🫶🏼

SYNOPSIS. Thrown asunder beneath crushing assignments, work, and the fleeting hope your “young and free” twenties experience may someday happen, you had yet to realize said experience was right around the corner. Whisked into a mixture of unearthed feelings and past occurrences, presented with a cherry on top by renowned Chef Lee Felix.

or alternatively :

Eventually, the sun will shine again.

Out of any gift you’ve received, you thought the treehouse in your backyard was the most memorable. It seemed like, in this vast universe, everything was right.

Then it wasn’t, then it was. Again and again. A repetitive cycle.

However, your overcast days did have an expiration date, and sunshine would eventually show itself again.

You just weren’t aware yet.

At seven years old, you would spend hours daydreaming, inviting friends, taking naps, and reading in your treehouse. Oftentimes, during the long days of summer, you’d eat lunch up there; lost in this secluded world only you knew about.

When you’re younger, every little thing appears peach-tinted.

The warm fire of a candle on a nightstand, setting dull objects ablaze with its brightness. Shadow puppets, dance parties. So ordinary yet exceptional all the same. Easy to configure from a developing mind as something excellent, fantastical.

Your twenties don’t envelop a hazy glow. Mind now hardened, treehouse still lingering (more like rotting) in the backyard of your parents house, things are more serious, less inviting.

Who knew adulthood would be this lonesome.

Walking from a bar, you fail to appreciate the hum of music from a buzzed radio, the wafting smell of Italian food hidden somewhere in the midst of neon signs and outdoor eateries.

Instead, priorities had lodged themselves indefinitely far into your soul, drowning out the voice telling you you’re you, not the expectations you’re held to.

Further and further did you drift into that intoxicating headspace, until someone—or, in your case, something—had to pull you out.

That something being a cooking—well, baking class. This weekend, an hour and a half. Menu: The Ideal Donuts.

“Think of it as a release,” Sana had told you, this wide, excited smile etching the skin of her face.

Immediately, you wanted to hand it back to her, tell the eccentric best friend of yours to spend such an occasion on herself instead.

Yet, you knew better than to try negotiating with Sana, the girl who has been present through your ugliest moments, who you’ve cried to more times than able to count.

Your intention wasn’t an attempt to make your life as miserable as possible. In fact, each day you strived for a resource, an indication things would grow better, as better as it seemed to be for everyone else.

Though you can only stretch a rubber band so far, and once it reaches its farthest extent, it snaps.

And the recoil stings.

“Okay, thank you.” You respond after a beat of silence, lips pulled into a tight line, investigating the information written on the card.

She pats your shoulder, a sweet smile worn upon pink lipstick.

Lee’s Baking Class.

Lee. The name sounds familiar.

Awkward. Everybody has their awkward moments, but you’re certain this one takes the cake.

The entirety of the class had fallen still, engulfed in a silence you can feel gathering in your chest, sending nausea building like bile in your throat.

His brown eyes merely blink, ignorant to your inner turmoil.

Lee Felix’s brown eyes, shining like muddy globes, seem to encapsulate every ounce of affection. Affection you once had for him, affection you refuse to unearth if it costs your life.

Perhaps that's the stem of the awkwardness—harbored feelings.

How awful.

Just your luck.

“Y/N?”

It even sounds worse falling from his lips. Sweet, just like he is, Felix is.

Felix has always been sweet, always inviting. Seems you accepted without realizing you were never invited to the party.

Staring like a deer caught in headlights, it takes the man clearing his throat for you to acknowledge your position.

“You can uh, find a seat if you’d like?”

‘You can shoot me if you’d like’ you think, very much grateful mind readers don’t exist.

Nodding profusely and scurrying to the nearest table out of the four aligned throughout the room, you find yourself paired with three elderly ladies who quarrel in rabid conversation about baking powder—though it doesn’t bother you, the frenzied chatter leaves leeway to think.

As memorable as the treehouse was, it was also memorable for.. Other reasons as well. One reason in particular being that it wasn’t always just you reading and daydreaming up there, but Lee Felix too.

Since primary school the two of you had been conjoined at the hip. Between friendly rivalries and the fact he was your neighbor, there wasn’t a two day period you weren’t together.

And with that, came a crush.

But it was different with Felix, different because just as you’d been conjoined to the hip as friends, this time, you were still conjoined, but he was your crush.

And it’s a whole lot easier playing off a crush when you aren’t with them 24/7.

Before you knew it, you had fallen head over heels in love. To a degree you realized you can’t, can’t do what you’ve always done, can’t pretend your feelings are nonexistent any longer.

So you fled.

The moment high school began, you located the furthest place available and begged your parents to let you attend. It wasn’t that you hated Felix, more than anything you hated yourself for falling in love–not that it could be helped.

No matter how illogical you deemed it, your heart would prove stronger. Maybe that was your epitome.

Your number one priority had been avoiding him thus far, and you thought you were doing a pretty decent job at it, using the excuse that high school offered better opportunities to mask your internal guilt, and staying on that side of the city when you graduated.

Nonetheless, it seems the effort was in vain, especially now that you’re facing him again.

No. You refuse to dwell on the past, not when you’ve made it this far.

In front of you sits all the necessary utensils. Measuring cups and spoons, coordinating bowls, and the ingredients included as well.

Thank goodness for that, you were scared you’d mess up and Felix would have to step in. Plus, the rules of this game came easy. Participate without contact and leave with a sweet treat in hand.

Except, you’re quick to understand those rules of the game may only apply in your case by the gaze boring into your back.

Great.

“I didn’t anticipate a young lady being so aggressive,” A voice to your right piques, surveying the furious manner in which you’re cracking an egg into the bowl.

Delivering a small smile and claiming you’re simply absorbed in your work, collective laughter sounds from the older women in response.

Taking a thirty minute break while the dough chills, you welcome conversation with anybody and everybody, attempting to evade the blond’s attempt at reaching out.

Way to be a jerk, Y/N.

But, in the end, avoidance is the right course of action.

You can’t afford love, you’re too broke already as a student.

During the times he isn’t circulating, you spare periodic glances, marveling at those charming features of his, still the same as when you were younger but slightly more mature, sharper. Effortlessly kissable raspberry-tinged lips purse when he explains things, helping the participants knead dough with ring-clad fingers. That one’s new: rings.

The third time, you were caught, panickedly looking away as if an accident.

“Y/N I–”

Speeding past while pretending to be occupied with checking the refrigerator holding your table’s donuts, his words become choked watching as you flee in the other direction, hand returning to his side where it extended to you.

You manage to survive the last few minutes unscathed, awaiting the sugary goodness lying just below your fingertips after hastily nodding to Felix in thanks and following the remainder of the class outside.

Success.

Or, whilst fetching your keys and finding where you had parked your car, so you thought.

Steam billows from your car's hood, refusing to even turn on while individuals alike grant you pitying simpers and continue on their exit.

Spoke too soon.

Even worse, your instructor, the man you thought you could run from after all, happens to walk out at that moment, witnessing your real-time destruction.

Not a success.

This was utter failure at the highest degree.

“So.. How’ve you been?”

“Fine.”

“How’s college?”

“Fine. ..And you?’

How you ended up in Lee Felix’s passenger seat is beyond you.

Well, not really. You just hate admitting you took the ride home he offered after your car broke down in the parking lot. In your defense, according to him, he already had to drop by the grocery store nearby.

It’s like an interrogation, your replies quick and unenthusiastic, his unwavering in enthusiasm, unyielding to the coldness you’re giving him.

Like you said, it wasn’t your intention hurting his feelings, nor being spiteful or brash. It was your coping mechanism.

This is how you got over him, or, how you’d like to say you got over him.

“Pretty busy, but I’m managing. How about you? I couldn’t get in contact, but I’m sure you got tons of offers, yeah?”

Seeing his face again didn’t help with the “getting over” part.

..Or the guilt at the “no contact” part either.

“Easy for you to say, you’re the successful one who got scouted by a culinary arts school.” The remark coming out spiteful, you scorn yourself.

That’s another thing. Lee Felix is totally out of your league.

He’ll always be number one, and you’ll always be second place. And not in an inferiority complex way, but in an honest way.

Felix chased his dreams to the end of the earth and got what he deserved out of it, and you thought you were doing the same, only to realize you were chasing him instead and leaving your own aspirations behind.

But that’s on you, not him, and you’ll likely spend the rest of your life wondering how you became so enamored in the first place.

Of course he wears that tear-worthy frown, periodically directing his attention to you while driving, face filled with overflowing concern.

How could anybody not fall in love with him?

“Y/N, you know that’s not true. I may have been scouted, but that doesn’t make me any better than anyone else. We’ve all worked hard to get where we are now, you included.”

Curse how weak you are for him. Why should he reassure you? You’re the prick that left him after countless years together, why is he consoling you?

Easy. He’s Felix.

Before anything else, he’s loving. Felix is the embodiment of love in an individual. He’s self-sacrificing (a trait you swear Chan gave to him), caring, and the most unbearably adorable mother-hen.

And you’re not even close to getting over him.

Street names pass in a blur, leaving a lengthy silence to consume the drive. You distract yourself with a flickering traffic light in need of fixing, watching the man’s finger tap against the wheel to a song on the radio in your peripheral before he speaks again.

“..Do you still talk to Chris?”

His voice, a pleasing baritone now that he speaks slowly, surprises you for a moment.

“Yep.”

Even then you refuse to turn toward him, coming to a halt at a stop sign and simultaneously dreading the manner in which he dips his head lower.

“Hey.. Are you okay?”

You feel like throwing up.

“During the class you–”

“My stop is here.”

The words come out before you can comprehend them, too worried about distancing yourself to care that this is in fact not your stop and a random street instead.

Though hesitantly, he pulls the vehicle to the side.

“But there’s no houses nearby–”

“No, this is perfect,” You pitch, quickly unbuckling and opening up the door. “Thank you, Felix.”

Oh how you wish you never said that, wish you never made eye contact.

He makes you want to scream and cry and dig up all those stupid feeling’s you’d buried in the ground.

Pulling your clothing closer to your body as the evening cools, you grace him a ghost of a smile, shutting the car door and hurrying down the sidewalk while feebly attempting to locate how far your place would be from here.

Yet, he doesn’t drive past you.

Evidently unconvinced but failing to say it aloud, you fight off the warmth heating your face as his car rolls right beside you, following your hasty footsteps while walking.

“Are you sure this is your stop? It’s getting cold!” He shouts, leaning over from his seat to regard you.

This is it. When you had sworn your embarrassment couldn't get any more pathetic.

“I.. I’m fine! Just go!” You shout back, arms waving haphazardly like an embarrassed middle schooler until he finally (and begrudgingly) steers ahead of you, car disappearing in the distance.

At least that’s over.

And yet, it feels like it’s just the beginning. You simply can’t explain why.

However, your main focus remains upon getting to safety. Safety being home.

The word has never sounded this pleasing before now.

So after thirty minutes running in circles to find your complex, you’re granted that much wanted safety, snuggled up in your cushions and turning on a show with evident delight in the mismatched pair of pajama pants and a hole-scattered top hanging off your shoulder.

No more Felix thinking, it’s time to relax.

What a joy.

Well, before your bottomless Pringle’s can abruptly spawns a bottom, hand frantically scurrying in search for more to no avail.

This is the peak of your show! How could someone possibly imagine viewing the climax without coordinating snacks?

And just when you thought you had ultimately settled, you’re thrown into a torrential debate, one that, after much contemplation (and pacing) across the cold tile of your kitchen, sends you huffing and puffing to the nearest convenience store.

Slipping past the sliding doors toward the designated aisle, you had yet to realize who else was roaming around the store.

A peculiar blond being that someone else.

It’s when you turn the corner to check out that you practically ram into each other, fear striking every fiber of your being, his eyes equally wide, but more puzzled than terrified—unlike you.

“Besides, I need to run to the grocery store afterward.”

Crap.

Granted, the probability he lived nearby was likely.

He's not required to stay a 300 meter radius from you anyway, so getting anxious about this shouldn’t be an issue. You’ll simply (hopefully not) say hi and be on your way.

Except, like most endeavors in your life so far, it is an issue.

Because one, you’ve positively blasted your chances of avoidance after the entire car experience (which, frankly, you genuinely debate death because of) and two, he’s.. apparently following you.

Wait, he’s following you?

He, as in: Lee Felix, who ultimately fails at being nonchalant. Walking a few paces behind you, eyes quite obviously trained on your figure.

After your frantic rush past him while darting through self-checkout, the footsteps behind you do little to quell your heart’s rapid pace, only worsening with each passing second.

You aimlessly ignore the sweat oiling your palms, pretending to be occupied with reading a label on your drink, hoping he’ll eventually look away.

He doesn’t.

Instead, he stays right on your tail, enough that while you break into a run through your door, he follows, jarring a foot in the door just as you begin slamming it shut.

Stalker, much?

Wielding the nearest weapon available in a panic, you’re frantic, whacking the unfortunate Pringle’s container with all your might toward the man.

“How.. How are you that fast– Ow! Ow ow- Wait- Y/N-”

Cowering down and covering his head with his arms while you furiously batter the man, it isn’t till a few specific words catch your attention that you stop.

“Your—“ Whack. “Car—“ Whack. “Was finished in the shop!”

Your what?

Hesitantly lowering his arms, Felix wears a sheepish smile, regarding your evidently frazzled, very much frantic appearance.

“For twenty minutes I’ve been trying to tell you.. your car is ready.. in the shop,” He breathes, doubling over with exhaustion.

Meanwhile, you’re still recovering from your own exhaustion. An exhaustion that urged the realization you just beat up your lifelong love interest with a box of Pringles.. who is now in your house.

Lee Felix. In your house.

What a joy.

“....I’m sorry about your head.”

“No, I shouldn’t have intruded like that.”

You cover your face with your hands, wishing nothing more than to melt into a puddle.

“Are you-” He tips his head down, that kindly confused expression of his no help to your pounding heart. “Are you alright?”

Through your wallowing, your ears burn, voice muffled whilst practically drowning in misery.

“Give me a minute, I’m so embarrassed right now.”

It doesn’t help that he laughs afterward. A low, vocal laugh that rumbles in his throat and does little for your mental health.

Placing the discarded can back on a nearby countertop, you jolt when his fingers wrap around your wrists, gently ushering your hands from your face.

“But I was serious about what I said. Y/N, are you okay?”

Oh how tender he refers to you. Careful, quiet. As if too high of a pitch and his voice will shatter the air. You don’t mind.

Because in all honesty, you haven’t been okay. Nothing has been okay. It feels like you’re working, but what for? You’ve lost the sense of purpose from when you graduated, slowly but surely watched your motivation diminish right before your eyes.

And you couldn’t do anything about it.

Chasing your tail in circles, round and around and around again has led you right to what you tried to run from in the first place.

Him; the truth.

And yet, unlike earlier today, you can’t bring yourself to push him away, to ask him to leave. You savor his touch, even if it only lingers on your wrists.

Save me, your skin cries against his grip.

Luckily, Felix joins you in your wavelength, giving you permission to indulge in the abyss of his eyes, fall into the warmth and comfort the past brought in the safety of his arms.

“Felix?” You verbalize, fragmented bits and pieces of life hidden within the words, muffled against the skin of his neck.

You missed Felix, but you’re starting to think you missed his hugs more.

“Yes?”

“I missed you.”

“Really? How much?”

You want to punch his gut, but you can’t will yourself to move.

“Too much.”

He chuckles, carefully pulling away.

“I have to head out, ‘got work early tomorrow. I can drop you off at the dealership when you’re free?”

Yes. This time, you can say yes.

Your feelings will never change from how they always were, especially when it comes to Felix. That’s something you have to accept.

Perhaps tomorrow you’ll get to see him again.

Or perhaps you’ll wake up in your bed in a few seconds and all of this will be a dream.

When he turns his back, you pinch yourself to make sure.

All real.

“Thanks, that’d be great.”

Right before he closes your door, you call out to him again.

“And Felix?”

“Mhm?”

“..Call me when you’re done with work. I’ll pick up this time so… tell me all about those seven years apart.”

At this, he nods—and it’s sort of bittersweet seeing him leave, because this time you know you’ll see him again.

And, though you try, your attempt at sleeping proves useless—caught up in your head after quickly settling in bed, deciding to save everything else for another day.

The ceiling serves as your main muse, eyes unblinking whilst staring upward.

What is Felix doing right now? Your attention flits, scowling to yourself at how much you sound like a clingy girlfriend.

Could you blame yourself though? You’re like a child waiting for Christmas presents. Except, this Christmas you’re unwrapping years upon years of time apart.

Fortunately, after a multitude of hours awake, sleep beckons. And as if a split second later, with the morning sun lighting up your room and stirring you awake do you receive a call.

You planned to ignore and roll over, but it’s a specific someone on your mind that urges you to fetch the device.

“Hello?”

“Hey, what’re you up to?”

“Getting away from you,” You groan, pretending not to hear Chris’s chiding that it isn’t healthy to sleep till noon.

And although you were gonna use last night’s experience as an excuse, you decided against it, hoping sooner or later he’d hang up without any more questions.

“Wait.”

Your silence serves as a sign to continue.

“If he’s sleeping next to you right now—”

“No! No Chris what- where did you hear— what?”

Unable to process how he knew about Felix or if he was talking about Felix in the first place, you leave it to the audibly disheveled man to explain himself.

“Look, I can explain. Sana told me she saw Felix go into your house last night, what was that about?”

Curse how Sana lives so close by.

“Well, for the record, Dad, he didn’t sleep over. We just uh, talked, like adults do.”

Chris exhales a baffled guffaw.

“Like adults do? Never thought I’d hear that from you.”

“I’m full of surprises, what can I say.”

An additional silence ensues, awkwardly tapping your finger on the mattress.

“We um.. we were catching up.”

The man on the other side of the line grins. You can practically see it through the phone.

“..When you said that, you sounded really happy just now.”

“Huh?”

“When you talked about Felix, you sounded really happy. That’s good.”

You study the ceiling a second time, feeling a small smile and tug at your lips.

“He’s good to keep around y’know.”

Rolling your eyes and adjusting your position to face the window, you stretch your arms over your head.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

You hear the ignition of his car in the distance.

“Whatever you want it to mean,” He chuckles. “I’m glad you got to see him though, I better contact him again now that you mention it, ‘need the Aussies to get together. Call you later?”

“Sure, bye Chris.”

Hanging up and collapsing onto your pillow, you yawn dramatically, gradually rising to your feet to open the blinds.

Then does it register to you this is the most enthusiastic you’ve ever been in a while—especially talking to a Chris—and not intentionally either.

All of which comes down a single name, the one you were reminded to keep around.

Lee Felix.

Picking up your phone, you make another call.

You

I’m on the way

Felix

(Felix liked your message)

I’ll be there as fast as I can!! Sorry, ran out of flour last night 😔

You

It’s all good, what’re you baking?

Felix

Banana cake, want a slice?

You

Yes please!

Redirecting your attention back to the road, you’re careful not to miss the exit this time (as you’ve done endless times in the past).

Almost to the café you planned to eat at with Felix, your phone lights up once more.

Yet, you forgot to check the number—your good mood diminishing instantly.

“Hey Fel—“

“Y/N, I need you in the office.”

Considering this is your boss you’re talking to, you pull into the parking lot, able to see Felix through the window—dressed to an unbearably handsome degree.

“But today is my day off, I don’t clock in on Saturday’s,” Relaying the statement, your eyes narrow at the screen.

“Well you’re going to have to. The office knows how capable you are. we need somebody like you here—we can count on you Y/N.”

You’ve been counting on me, for everything.

That familiar weight settles into your chest, more and more pressure building at a nefarious level. You feel sick to your stomach, wanting nothing more than to drop the call and walk inside into work-free air.

However, you can’t. This job holds you down (in multiple ways), it’s stable, and provides good income—you can’t afford to drop it.

But what are you supposed to say to Felix?

Everything feels too overwhelming at the moment, your lungs feel like exploding, using all your willpower to say something.

“..Okay. I’ll be there soon.”

And you hang up, gripping the steering wheel like a vice.

It’s always like this. The moment you have a good thing, not even a day later everything falls apart.

Never lasts.

You

Sorry, I can’t make it, work called.

Felix

But haven’t you worked a lot this week? Why not take today off?

You

Can’t, see you another time

How selfish, you tell yourself, throwing your phone as far from you as possible.

The moment you get the chance to see him again, he slips out of your fingertips. Or in this case, you let him slip away.

Watching him glance around, delicious slice of banana cake kept in a cute tin in front of him feels heart-wrenching. And you quite literally are the worst person in the world at this very moment.

Each key your fingers press adds to the exhaustion in your bones, growing greater each inhale and exhale your take, eyes scouring the computer screen.

Being in the office is stifling. You’re trapped in a box, a box that shrinks closer and closer every second, caging you in without hopes of escaping.

This is your prison, the jail cell you didn’t realize you’d been stuck in till it was too late.

An entire library of documents pile at the foot of your desk, your head aching incessantly. So once the hour hand strikes 10pm, you trudge out the door, more than happy to be in the safety of your car.

Then you slip, and it all comes crashing down.

As if he read your mind, the one person you’ve been longing for takes over your screen, and your index shakes pressing the green button.

“..Felix.”

The words tumble out, tiny candies filling an already full jar. Too much that the lid can’t even fit on.

“Stay where you are, I’m driving to you right now.”

His response earns a stifled sob, your fist bunching the fabric of your clothing, feebly attempting to calm the incessant beating—seeming to render your lungs with meager air.

No other sentence is spoken even with him on the other line, not until headlights pour over the expanse of your dash—until Felix nearly rips your car door off its hinges to reach you in the driver’s seat.

One hand on your head, the other on your back, he pulls you into a bone-crushing hug, your second one in three days.

It’s all you need. All you’ve ever needed, actually.

Another heartbeat with yours, your calm before the storm that kept the calm, to know you aren’t alone in your suffering, that you can suffer together.

Ah, you can breathe.

“All these years and you’re still an awful liar.”

You simply squeeze him tighter, the blond’s laughter shaking either of you.

Guess a single taste can lead to addiction.

“I hate crying in front of people,” You sniffle, cringing back after seeing his shirt’s tear-stained fabric.

“Lucky for you,” Felix tuts, gathering your face in his hands, smiling. “I’m not people, just Felix.”

You roll your eyes, swollen condition of your eyes and cheeks not helping the irritable portrayal.

“I’m sorry, Lix, I’m so sorry. I wanted to see you so bad but work called and they keep piling—“

“Shush.”

He presses a finger against your lips.

“For one second, don’t think about work,” He exhales, face pursed in focus, fingers smoothing the crease lines of your brows.

“I know you’ve been overworking yourself. I’m not your best friend for no reason,” Felix sheepishly smiles, hand slipping from by your forehead down to your cheek, stroking the skin there softly.

Again and again, he watches you break.

Then, he picks you up all over again.

“Can you.. can you understand my frustration? It feels like everyone loves their jobs, but in the end, no matter what I do, I’m stuck in this constant cycle of hell. I can’t escape Felix, I can’t escape.”

Your voice dons into that of panic, into an hysterical fit of tears and rapid breathes, only able to focus back on the man before you after he shouts your name for the fourth time.

“Nuh-uh, no crying. The world isn’t ending, so no tears, hm?” Thumbs smoothing the flush of your under-eyes, he pulls you to his chest, hand gently rubbing your back while another cards through your hair.

“..Are you my mom or something?” You croak irritably.

Felix shakes with another bout of laughter.

“No.”

He slightly pushes you back where you can see his face, brows creasing in a focused, serious manner.

“I’m Felix, your best friend, remember? And I don’t want my friend to cry, she has too pretty of a face for that.”

“But what if her world’s ending?”

“I won’t let that happen.”

And the building blocks are stacked once more, barely able to hear his voice amidst your heart, forging itself free of its cage, your ribs.

“Y/N, look at me angel.”

Of course you follow, you know you always will.

“You aren’t required to cater to everybody, you can’t cater to everybody, no matter how hard you try. You’re human, and humans need to do human things, they need to live, experience exciting experiences. That’s how you make the little time we have here worthwhile.”

He tips your chin up, placing a kiss to your forehead.

“So don’t cage yourself up, please. And,” His voice gets cut off, eyes flickering from your eyes to your lips.

Debating, thinking.

“Let me help you fall in love with life again.”

As if I’m not already in love with you.

If only you knew the same thing occurred in his head as well.

Felix drove you home, and for a second, over the span of a week, it seemed as if everything was finally back to normal.

Then you received a call from such a man, on your beloved Sunday afternoon, asking a rather whimsical sort of question you never anticipated.

No, you exaggerated.

“Are you free tonight?”

Oh. Oh.

Staring at the assortment of DVD’s scattered around on your comforter, you act as if you’re oh so busy instead of planning to rot watching Dead Poet’s Society for the thousandth time.

“Uhhh think so, why?”

Felix clears his throat.

“Well, my baking place wants you— no, I want you, no, wait—“

Your heart speeds up at the sudden confession, bursting into laughter as he sputters over his words like a child.

“Will you.. meet me at the bake shop? If you can’t it’s fine I mean I’m sure you’re preoccupied-“

“No!” You shout, not intending to be so loud, shrinking in on yourself. “I mean, no, I’ll be there. Give me ten minutes.”

Well, ten minutes might’ve been a stretch considering how animalistically you lunge at your hamper, sorting through clothing despite being aware Felix has likely seen every single one of your outfits a million times before

Doesn’t help this is pretty much an unofficial date. Or, hopefully those were his intentions.

Regardless, you don’t plan on wasting a chance like this again.

Standing on the sidewalk, hands situated in the pockets of a midnight black jean jacket paired with coordinating slacks is Felix, his face breaking into a smile upon seeing you.

Catching up with the man, you walk by his side, listening to him talk about meeting up with Chris days prior, about business.

It’s comforting, this small talk. And for a second, you swear you never left at all.

“And then I told him Vegemite was obviously the better choice but he…”

Words halting, you look to where his attention had been stolen, finding an old woman lingering outside the shop the two of you planned to enter. She wasn’t one of the ladies you’d seen before in your group.

Cautiously approaching the woman, it takes multiple clears of his throat for Felix to grasp her attention.

“Excuse me Miss?” He offers, allowing the woman to grab his hands with her wrinkled ones, eyes squinted to assess his face. “Would you like some help? I’m the owner of this shop.”

Slowly, a small smile stretches her face upward, wrinkles forming around her mouth like the petals of a flower.

“Why.. Why yes, young man. I’m in need of more brown sugar.”

Felix perks up at the request, and you follow them inside with your own smile, cherishing his warmth, his gentleness.

Leaning against the unmanned reception, you find the longer you stare at him describing each ingredient to the old woman, the greater that feeling in your stomach grows, eyes becoming watery.

Felix, in his loving, patient glory, is the sun.

He casts his rays over your garden, blooming once wilted flowers.

Forever ago, you believed the two of you sat on entirely opposite hemispheres. He received the day, and you, in your unchanging seasons, eternally remained shrouded in night.

Yet, you forgot the earth tilted on an axis for a reason. And, with time, the sun would rise again.

Lamps briefly illuminating the woman’s exit while Felix helps her outside, you wait till he comes back in to speak, staring at the worried way he ensures she safely heads off through the window.

For a moment, it feels like you’re back in the treehouse, gazing at him as if he painted the stars in the sky.

You refuse to let your anxiety get the best of you, not when the one person whose presence you’ve been longing for comes back in your life.

“Felix,” You voice from across the table. He looks back to where you are.

“If I don’t say it now, I doubt I ever will but..I like you. I have liked you, for a really long time actually. More than friends I mean, I like you… more than just a friend.”

He sort of studied you for a moment, and your heart flies up to your throat, rethinking every instance leading to now.

“Took you that long to tell me?” He murmurs, and when you meet his gaze, you note the small grin on his lips, the way honey seems to swirl in the pools of his eyes.

“I’ve been waiting, y’know. For a really long time,” He finishes, donning that sheepish smile whilst walking toward you, an action that causes you to fall stock still.

Leaning forward slightly, his hands clutch your face, planting the lightest of kisses on your forehead, each of your cheeks, and then your nose, fondly admiring the flush of your skin in the dimly lit room.

“You’re missing something,” You whisper, peeking an eye open.

Felix cocks a bemused brow.

And what is that?”

Without words, you hesitantly tap your lips, and Felix wastes no time, ensuring you’re as comfortable as possible prior to savoring your taste on his tongue, remnants of sugar clinging to his bottom lip, transferring onto yours each time he tips his head.

You hop upon the countertop, beginning to apologize in case you messed up his workspace before being shushed again by his lips, hands frantically searching to hold his face, expression pinched, eyes squeezed shut.

It feels as if your heart may just burst, beating at a deafening rate in your ears.

There must’ve been something in the sugar.

“Lix?”

“Yes?”

“Do you want to come back over to my place?”

Instantly, his once smugly pleased face dissipates, a hot flush rising up his neck in its place.

“Y..Your place? I mean isn’t it a bit too early to—“

Without elaborating, you drag him off, silencing any of his nervous babbling along the way back to your car.

Nonetheless, it doesn’t take long for either of you to get comfortable.

“..Oh Lix.”

“I can’t- I can’t take it anymore Y/N..”

Sitting beside each other on your mattress, the both of you hold huge containers of popcorn, the newest rendition of “Alien” playing on screen. Felix is coddled in blankets, wincing as the creature gets closer to the girl’s face while you’re already gagging watching the miniature monster crawl out of the bigger one’s mouth.

“This is disgusting!!” He shrieks, hiding his face while you giggle, trying your hardest to watch the grotesque scene.

This is your third movie of the night, and even after years apart, you can still use even slightly thrilling movies to freak him out.

Still entertaining, too.

The longer you stare at him, the greater a fondness seeps into your face, into the lines of your smile, the irises of your eyes.

Months upon months you had been searching for your antidote, ignorant to the fact the antidote in question could be a person.

You hadn’t realized how low you’d gone until you had to be dragged back out again.

A hand reaching out, pulling you up when your legs were too weak to move. Kissing you when the words couldn’t come out of your mouth, holding your hand when you needed support.

Lee Felix, wrapped in your comforter now fast asleep, was your brighter place.

264 notes · View notes

cameronspecial · 6 months ago

Note

fallin' all in you by shawn mendes and back to life by zayn

best friends to lovers, always there in the bad moments, always there in the best moments. those times of seeing the other with someone else til they finally confess to each other they are in love

Always There

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Swearing and Mentions of Sex

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 3.2K

A/N: Sorry this isn't more related to the songs but the prompt really had me going.

Masterlist

It didn’t take long for Rafe to learn that she was going to be the most important person in his life. No, it really didn’t. It took the thirty seconds that it took for their fathers to leave the room for him to make that realization. The six-year-old stared at the short five-year-old girl in front of him, examining every part of her. He starts with the polished black Mary Janes that adorned her feet. They revealed the folded at the top perfectly white socks she is also wearing. The bottom of her wrinkle-free plaid pink dress kissed the bottom of her knees and not a single stain can be found on her white cardigan. Her nails were painted the same shade as her dress with no chip in sight. Small pearls circled her neck and her ears were studded with pearls as well. To complete the pristine look of the young girl, her hair was smoothed back into a high bun. Rafe was quick to assume he wasn’t going to have any fun playing with his father’s business partner’s daughter, but he was proven wrong by the first words she said to him. “Do you want to go play in the dirt?” Her question took him by surprise because her clothes certainly didn’t give the impression of a little girl who would want to play outside. Nevertheless, he nodded with a massive grin and dragged her to his backyard.

When it was time to leave, the two newly made friends went running to their fathers; just not exactly in the same condition that they were left in. Both their clothes were now stained with mud and wrinkles were a plenty. The tight bun Y/N once wore at the crown was sagging at her nape and several knotted strands framed her face. Rafe’s gelled-back hair was mixed with mud, standing on its ends. To match their parallel appearance, her chipped nail polished hand gripped his slightly bigger ones. He had insisted that they held hands while they ran towards the back door.

Ward’s eyes widened when he saw the state that the children were in and embarrassment flashed across his face. He was sure his son was the reason for the state they were in. He turned to the other adult prepared to apologize, “Nolan, I’m so sor-.” Mr. Y/L/N let out a good-hearted laugh with a shake of his head. “I told your mother that dress wasn’t going to last long. She knows you hate staying still or clean,” he noted, hunching over while taking off his glasses to wipe fake tears from his eyes. His daughter began to giggle with him and jumped into his arms, neither of them caring if his shirt got stained. Ward and Rafe looked at each other with uncertainty and continued to watch the other pair. Nolan stood straight with his daughter in his hold, “Did you have fun, Ladybug?” Y/N grinned at him. “YES, DADDY! Me and Rafe looked for worms and I chased him with one. I was faster. He is my best friend. Can we come back to play again?” The small boy’s heart flipped in his stomach at her words. He had hoped she had just as much fun as he did and he wanted nothing more than to be able to play again. He waited for her father to reply in anticipation.

Nolan smiled warmly at his daughter, “Of course, Ladybug. Maybe he can come over to our house sometime. I’m sure he’d love to see the treehouse you and your brothers built.” He turned toward Ward for the next part. “That is, of course, if it is okay with Mr. Cameron.” “I think that’s a great idea,” Ward agreed. No one could see it, but Rafe did a little victory dance in his head. He had never been more glad to have been woken up early on a weekend because he was pretty sure he had met his future wife.

———

That day he certainly met his best friend; where Y/N went, Rafe followed and vice versa. However, if the pair weren’t together, it was hard for either one of them to find the other. The bars of the ladder creaked as he climbed up them. As he got higher, he could hear the soft sniffles she was letting out. He got to the top and her hunched position confirmed she had been crying. His heart squeezed at her tears, causing him to hurry across the sun-shaped rug they had brought up there to her side. Once he was close enough, she instinctively turned into his hold. The twelve-year-old boy nuzzled her face into his neck. He ran his hand through the hair on the back of her head, waiting for her to calm down enough to speak. “He’s gone. Bernard is gone,” she wailed into his skin. He knew that. Her eldest brother had called when he couldn’t get her down from the treehouse. James explained to Rafe that Y/N’s pet snake, Bernard, had died and she had been up there all day, refusing to come down for anything.

His cheek moves against her skull. He moved some of her hair behind her ear and kissed the skin beside her eye. “I know. I’m so sorry, Cookie. He meant a lot to you,” he mumbled with his lips against her skin. He could feel her nod under him, “He was supposed to have more time. They live for at least twenty years in captivity.” A cool breeze came over them. Even though it was the middle of the summer in the Outer Banks, the setting sun caused the temperature to drop. Her bare arms were littered with small bumps and his lips tightened. His hands began to rub up and down her arms in an attempt to bring her warmth.

“Sometimes these things happen. Sometimes the people… or animals we love get sick and they have to go. That doesn’t mean that we stop loving them or they stop loving us, it just means we have to have faith that we will see them again,” he eloquently shared. “How about we go inside? We can get something to eat and talk about him.”

She froze, raising her head to look at him. “I can’t. I can’t go back in there because it reminds me of him… Is this how you felt after your mom died? I mean, it must have been ten times worse because she was your mom.” His breath hitched at the mention of his deceased mother. He hated talking about his mother, yet whenever she asked, he answered. “Yeah. It was and sometimes still is hard to be at home. Right after I lost her, there were moments when I forgot she was gone,” he revealed. “I would be doing my homework in the dining room and occasionally expect her to come in to ask if I needed help. Or if I smell organes, then I wait for her to offer me some…” He trailed off, getting lost in the memory of his mother. She sensed the pain the recounting had brought him and contorted them so that he was the one with his ear to her chest. “We can share an orange now if you want. To honour her,” she suggested. He raised to check if she was sure. “We don’t have to. We would have to go inside to get one and I understand if that is too hard for you.”

She took a deep breath and wiped her tears away. Her legs wobbled as she tried to stand. He held his hand out to help her. Her hand fell into his. “It’s okay, I think I can do it with you by my side.”

———

Rafe had been falling for Y/N since they met, except he had only realized that three years after Bernard had died. It was quite possibly the worst time for him to be going through it because he was going through puberty. His face was pimply and his voice cracked at horrible times. Although he still got girls, his unstable state caused him to lack the courage to go after the person he desired the most. It didn’t help that she only saw him as her best friend.

“Ahhhhh! I got in,” she squealed as she wrapped her arms around his neck to bring him into a hug. He chuckled and moved his hands to the back of her thighs, giving them a little tap. She got the message and jumped to be in his hold. On-lookers would assume they were dating. He leaned back so he could see her eyes, “I’m so proud of you, Cookie. I knew you could do it. No one deserves it more than you.” They had been in that position for a few seconds and his biceps began to ache. He took it as a sign to start hitting the gym more. He wanted to get more toned anyway. His lack of strength was kept to himself because she loved it when he carried her. He had to agree that the position did give him butterflies, especially when the light would hit her face just right. His eyes found her irises and the air in his lungs deflated. Thankfully, the universe sent Gabriel to break the tension. “Eww, could you guys not do that in a common area,” he complained. Pete followed his brother into the room and nudged the older sibling with his elbow. “Leave them alone. They are in love.”

Y/N groaned at the interruption from her older brothers and dropped to the floor with an eye roll. “We are just friends. Plus, we are allowed to celebrate. I just got into a coding summer program I wanted to get into,” she announced. Rafe felt burnt by her first sentence. Her brothers went to give her a hug and a kiss on the cheek. Both of them gave her congratulatory words. The siblings stepped back from each other after a moment of happiness. “We are bringing back takeout. Text us what you want,” Pete briefed before the two boys left. Silence covered the room and their eyes connected.

His head gestured to the couch and they sat back down on it. The distance between them was quickly filled in by Y/N shuffling in. She rested her head on his shoulder with a sigh, both of them staring at the screen announcing the news. Reality set in for her. “We are going to have to be apart for a month,” she declared. To date, the longest they had been apart was three days. She had to go to Colorado at the last minute for her great-aunt’s funeral. Besides that, their families solely took group trips together because the pair refused to go without each other. Rafe felt her anxiety coming up and offered his hand to her. Her impulse drove her to grip his ring between her fingers. He let her rock the metal band back and forth on his digit. He shrugged, “We’ll be fine. We can text during the day and FaceTime whenever you want. It will be like we are together. I’ll even text you every time I need you to pick out what I eat. As if you are here with me.” She paused to think about what he said for a second. “Would you send me letters? Like people do in the movies.” He removed his hand from her lap and wrapped his arm around her shoulder. “Of course. With the number of different ways we will talk, I am always there for you,” he promised, thinking this might be the perfect opportunity to tell her how he felt.

———

He never sent the letter and four years later, he regrets his cowardness to this day because now, it is too late. His hand resists the urge to crush the neon-green solo cup. She insisted that he got the colourful cups for his party because she thought they were cute. Of course, he gives into her every whim in hopes it will make her finally see him. It doesn’t work though; if it did, then she would be at the party with him and not with her boyfriend of one year, Jay. Jay, the new addition to the Kook civilization, is polite and always put together. So the complete opposite of Rafe and Mrs. Y/L/N's dream partner for her daughter. Rafe loathes the fact that Jay gets the title of Y/N’s first boyfriend and maybe one day her first sexual partner. At least two things provide him comfort, he was her first kiss and obviously, she must not feel confident in her relationship with Jay or else she would have had sex with him already.

She isn’t a prude (the friends often talked about their masturbation fantasies) or waiting for marriage. Her wish is to give her virginity to someone she is certain loves her, so Jay must not give her that feeling. Rafe has seen the couple say I love you to each other and this confirms his suspicion that something feels authentic to her. Nonetheless, she stays in a relationship with Jay. The best friend once questioned her continued status as the other man’s girlfriend and she said she felt a spark she wasn’t ready to let go of. Rafe thought she was lying. Jay is the first choice her mother approved of and Rafe suspects that is one of the reasons Y/N is holding on to him.

He is snapped out of his thoughts by a splash on his hand. His gaze leaves the sight of Jay whispering into Y/N’s ear as she giggles and trails down to his hand. The cup that was holding his beer is now rumpled in his gasp. He doesn’t mind. After he changes his beer-soaked shirt, he can get something stronger. He swims through the sea of people to get upstairs, chancing a glance at her before he disappears.

It takes him a while to find a shirt to wear. Every time he picks one up, he hears his best friend’s voice in his head. That one is too busy. That colour looks like puke. That one washes out your eyes. He searches for the slightly baggy silk-black button-up that she loves. She prefers a looser-fit shirt because she thinks a shirt that is too tight makes men look like sausages. No matter how many abs they have. He groans, remembering that the shirt is hand-wash only and the maid left it in the laundry room to dry. The shirts in his hands are thrown onto the floor and plans to go shirtless until he retrieves his shirt. As he is about to open his door, the familiar rasp of Jay’s voice can be heard through the door. “I can feel it, Dude. I am so close to sealing the deal with this bitch,” Jay hypes into the phone. “Of course, it is going to be worth it. She’s a virgin. You and I both know that they are always the freakiest because they want to try everything.” Being guilty of saying crude things, Rafe pieces together the meaning of the phone call.

Anger slides under his skin, creating a large splinter. He doesn’t go after the asshole because his concern is Y/N. She deserves to know the truth before she makes her decision.

He waits for Jay’s footsteps to fade and slides out of the door, taking a different route to get to her. It is perpetually easy to find her in the crowd. Her joyful aura draws him in wherever they are. Her hips sway to the beat of the music and her hands are in the air, one holding a pink solo cup. Her hair flows with the carefree movement of her head. Rafe hates that he has to be the one to wipe the smile off her face. The crowd doesn’t object to him pushing his way to her. They can see he is on a mission and everyone is familiar with his famous temper. His warm hand on her lower back causes her to turn in his direction. “Hey, Rafey. Where have you been?” she greets with a bright smile. A clench shoots through his heart, “We need to talk.” Her lips turn into a line at his serious expression. They understand each other’s small facial tics which makes reading each other’s emotions easy. Her head bobs and he guides her to his room.

He closes the door and turns to find her sitting on his bed with a bounce. “What’s wrong?” she inquires. The corner of his lip puckers between his teeth. “You might not believe me, so I want you to know that I am telling you this because I love you.” She stands to shuffle by his side. “What do you want to tell me?” she presses on. He comes to shit beside her and rests his hand on hers, preparing himself for when she needs to play with his ring. “I overheard Jay on the phone and, I’m going to spare you the details, the sole reason he is dating you is because he wants to sleep with you. He sees you as a game and you don’t deserve a person who doesn’t appreciate you.”

She isn’t shocked by the news. The lack of surprise doesn’t mean she isn’t upset. Sure, she isn’t head over heels for Jay, but they still spent a year building a relationship and trust. The fact that he is lying and simply sees her as an object is understanding. In spite of that, Y/N finds herself not as upset as she should probably be. She racks her brain for why the news isn’t more detrimental to her and the answer comes up in the form of two cerulean eyes. The man who played in the mud with her even though she was a girl. The man who would hold her in his arms whenever period cramps were hitting her hard. The man who always knew her order, no matter her restaurant. She never fell in love with Jay because she was already all in with Rafe. He is always there for her and she is now realizing she only wants him there. The small well of tear that is about to crop up gets waved away by her newfound feelings.

“That’s okay,” she whispers, shuffling closer to him. He stares into her eyes with arched eyebrows, “Really?” “Yeah. Because so far, I’ve been falling for men who weren’t how they appear. But I think I found a man who is exactly how he appears.” His confusion doesn’t wave from his face, so she makes her point clear by leaning in. He clocks her movement and his eyes flutter shut as he follows her lead. As their lips meet, love is breathed into each other's lungs and it becomes all-consuming. His rough lips soften with the help of her lip balm. They break apart in a small pant and their forehead smooch together. She grins at him, “If it isn’t clear, I have fallin’ all in you.” “Did you just quote Shawn Mendes?” he chuckles. She feints irritation, “I guess I won’t say what I was about to say then.” He shakes his head and rests his hand on the back of her neck to keep her there. “No. No. No. Keep going.” Her smile returns. “I love you.” The future he has imagined for them starts playing at full speed and he can’t believe he gets to catch up to it. “I love you too.”

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @magicalyoura @rubixgsworl

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #outer banks #rafe cameron imagine #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks imagine #outer banks x reader #rafe #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #rafe x reader #outerbanks rafe #rafe imagine #obx rafe cameron

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phxntomsdusk · 11 months ago

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My forever - Will x GN!Reader

summary: you never planned on falling for your best friend, but you don’t regret it<3

warnings: none<3

tags: @ax-y10 (ask to be added)

word count: 2k

You and Wilbur had been friends forever. Meeting in primary school, and clicking almost instantly. Nobody could separate you two even if they tried, you were glued at the hip.

Of course, challenges came along the way. Friend group fallouts, family problems, summertime depression, etc. but you two always had each other, no matter what. And of course, with every cliche friendship, feelings got involved.

It started with the simple questions you received in the hallways. “Are you dating?” “Are you two a thing?” It was a constant reminder that everyone would assume you and him were together, even if you were just really close.

But it made you question yourself, could you ever date him? You always said he was your other half, the person you could always go to. You would never discuss it with him, it was saved for your journal to rant and curse out all of your emotions and thoughts.

You didn’t know Wilbur was doing the same thing, questioning himself every time he caught himself staring at you got a bit too long. How could he not stare? He was best friends with the most beautiful person he had ever met. But of course, he didn’t dare make a move.

Eventually, it became obvious to your friends that the two of you had a thing for one another, and they came up with a plan that just had to work.

Every weekend everyone would meet at your friend Chris’s treehouse, but this time, they would all find a way to leave you two alone with the lingering topic left for you to discuss.

“Hey, guys!” Your friend Kelly smiled widely at you and Will, helping you get inside the treehouse door and allowing you to sit on the small makeshift couch in the corner. Will joined after you, taking his spot right next to yours, and wrapping an arm over your shoulder like he always did. “Graduation is, like, a few weeks away. That’s insane.”

Your attention was brought to Chris, nodding at his words. “I know, right? We’ve all known each other for nearly 10 years at this point. We’re so old.” You earned a laugh from Will before he spoke up and leaned forward, moving his arm around your back. “Exactly. We’ll all be heading off to uni in a few months too, well, maybe not Zach.”

Your friend, Zach, let out an offended gasp. He was known as the dumbest one in your group, mostly because he had failed all of his classes through all of high school, yet somehow passed the year. “I definitely will get into uni! I’m going to Harvard.” He scowled at Will, earning an even louder laugh from him.

“As if, you’d be better off getting a job as a janitor for Harvard,” Chris spoke up with a teasing smile, before looking over at you and Will with a knowing look. “Guys, when do you think we’ll all get married?”

The question struck you with confusion. Why would he be talking about marriage? He didn’t even have a girlfriend, let alone someone to marry. “Why do you ask? I mean, I’d hope to get married by around 25, I don’t wanna be in my 30’s.” You shrugged and leaned back into Will’s hold, watching as he nodded in agreement.

“25 is a good age. But with the way I want to get into music, I may be touring by then. I’m telling you now, I’m gonna be famous.” He smiled and looked down at you, running his hand up and down your arm. “I bet Will and Y/N will get hitched by 21,” Kelly spoke up with a grin, giggling under her breath.

It took you back, both you and Will. Did they all think you were dating too? Sure, you were being touchy, but this was how your friendship worked. But they thought you would get together?

“Me and Y/N? Are you crazy?” Will’s words slightly hurt, earning a frown from you as you simply nodded. “Maybe not crazy. Just delusional.” You smiled at him, sitting up and resting your head against the back of the ‘couch’.

Chirs and Zach looked at each other with the same knowing look, before announcing they had to leave for a moment. You were confused as they got up, climbed down the ladder, and rushed inside of Chris’s house. Kelly soon joined them, leaving you and Will all alone.

The silence was eating at you, wanting to speak up and say something, but not knowing what to say. Until he spoke up for you.

“Could you see a future with me?” He looked at you with a curious and hopeful expression, almost as if he wanted you to say yes. You had never thought of it before, but now that you were, you definitely could. “I mean, yeah. Can you?” He thought for a moment, smiling and nodding at you. “Yeah. I can.”

The two of you sat in silence for a bit longer, simply smiling at yourselves. “Wanna go on a date? To try and test it out, maybe?” You looked back at him, a light blush on both of your faces. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

It was settled. You and Wilbur were attempting a date.

About a week had passed, and it was nerve-racking, you didn’t want to get too dressed up or be too underdressed. Should you do your hair? Makeup? Wear special jewelry? Would he even notice? He was taking you to the movies, why did any of this matter so much to you?

You settled on a simple band t-shirt, jeans, converse, and a necklace he had gifted you on a previous birthday of yours. It was a simple yet good enough outfit for a date.

He picked you up at around 6 pm, he always said nighttime movies were the best, and he wasn’t wrong at all. You were going to see Spider-Man, his choice of course. You were lucky he had enough cash on him to get popcorn and some drinks, even getting you a box of your favorite candy, because who doesn’t love overpriced candy?

“I never thought I’d be taking my best friend on a date. Especially one of the most cliche dates in history.” He spoke as you two entered the theater, sitting towards the back and getting comfy. “Me neither. I bet our friends are happy.” You smiled at him, taking a bit of the popcorn from the hun he held. “Oh. Before I picked you up Chris called me and gave me tips on how to kiss.”

The simple comment made your cheeks flush for a second, Chris expected you two to kiss? It wasn’t like you’ve never kissed anyone, you just never kissed someone this close to you. “Really? He’s a huge dreamer. I swear his dreams are more unrealistic than Zach getting into Harvard.”

Will laughed at your comment, and you noticed how pretty he seemed to truly be. The ways the corners of his eyes crinkled up when he smiled, the way his dimples would become extra visible whenever he smiled at you. Were you falling for him?

“You’re staring.” He commented quietly before his attention was brought to the lights being shut off and the intro playing for the movie. He wasn’t wrong, you had been staring. “No, I wasn’t.” Denial was the best plan at this point.

It was silent for the most part, besides the movie, but there was an awkward tension between you two. It was like you knew something but wouldn’t tell the other.

Your eyes were locked on the screen, occasionally laughing or commenting on a scene, but mostly sitting in silence. Until he spoke up.

“Wanna head to our spot after this?” He looked at you with a smile, one that somehow made your heart melt. By his spot he meant the parking garage at your local mall, the top had been blocked off due to the concrete beginning to give out in certain areas. “Yeah, I’m down.”

And of course, that’s where you went. The two of you sat on the hood of his car, staring up at the darkening sky as you spoke about anything and everything.

“Do you ever think the stars could, maybe, help find your soulmate?” He blurted out randomly, followed by a laugh. “Like, when you meet your soulmate, imagine if you saw your initials in the stars. That would be so cool!” You simply laughed along with him, shaking your head at his behavior. “You’re so weird.”

A comfortable silence fell on the both of you, you hadn’t even noticed he started to stare at you. It wasn’t weird or creepy, it was comforting and sweet. His gaze was soft, one of his hands gently grabbing ahold of yours. You moved your head to look over at him, meeting his gaze and smiling lightly.

There was a feeling between you two, you both felt it. But it wasn’t foreign, it had been the same feeling you’d developed over the last 10 years of knowing him. You two were in love with each other and didn’t even realize it.

“I think I need to be honest with you.” His words were quiet, and he adjusted his posture for a second and sat up. “Y/N, I think I’m in love with you.” He looked at you with a worried yet hopeful look, almost like he wanted you to say the same.

Did you feel the same? Well, he was almost always the first thought when you woke up. You would fall asleep on a call with him, making sure he was the last person you spoke to before sleeping. Maybe you did love him.

“I think I love you too.” Your voice was equally quiet, the two of you sharing a knowing look before he slowly leaned in and gently kissed you. It only lasted a few moments, but it was still meaningful. “Did Chris’s advice pay off?” He spoke in a joking tone, earning a laugh and nod from you. “Definitely.”

One week. One entire week since you two kissed.

Today was graduation day, you had barely seen him during the week of your schedules not lining up. Your cap and gown paired nicely with your outfit somehow, a smile on your face the entire day.

The ceremony was short and sweet, at least when you weren’t paying attention. Hearing your name be announced, earning your diploma, getting that final handshake. It was unbelievable. You were practically on autopilot during the entire thing.

It wasn’t very memorable until it was over. Everyone meets up with their family and friends afterward, getting congratulated for making it through the entire year. And then you spotted him.

Will was stood off to the side, awkwardly messing with his cap string before looking up to meet your gaze. A wide smile appeared on his featured, rushing over to wrap his arms around you.

“Y/N! I’m so proud of you.” He smiled widely at you, before pulling you into a sweet kiss. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, smiling into his kiss for a moment until the two of you parted. “I’m proud of you too, Will.” You two didn’t bother to even find your families, simply basking in each other's arms at the moment.

He continued to admire you, placing a hand on the side of your face and running his thumb over your cheekbone. “Can I say something kind of cheesy?” He smiled lightly, earning a nod from you.

“Y/N. I want you to be my forever.”

Your heart melted almost immediately at his words, letting out an audible ‘awe’ as you leaned up and hugged him closely. “You’re so cute.” You mumbled against his shoulder, smiling to yourself as you felt his arms firmly wrap around you.

“I mean it, I love you.” He whispered in your ear, planting a kiss on the side of your temple. He loved you, he did. You looked up at him with a lovesick expression, “I love you too, Will.”

#phxntomsdusk #phxntoms fics #wilbur soot #wilbur soot fluff #wilbur soot x you #wilbur soot x y/n #wilbur soot x reader

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dancinglikebutterflywings · 6 months ago

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Lazy Morning | Jung Wooyoung

-> Pairing: Jung Wooyoung x gf!reader

-> Request: No. This is a repost from my old account.

-> Synopsis: Sometimes lazy mornings in bed turn a little sentimental.

-> Warnings: Established relationship.

-> Word Count: 226

-> Requests: Open.

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©️ 2024 dancinglikebutterflywings - do not copy/modify/repost anywhere. Likes, comments & reblogs are welcomed and appreciated. Thank you.

As Y/N snuggles up to Wooyoung, resting comfortably against his side with her arm across his waist, she feels a sense of contentment wash over her. The warmth of his body against hers, the steady rise and fall of his chest as he breathes, mixed with the feeling of his fingers running through her hair, relaxes her even further.

They’re both enjoying a leisurely morning in bed, with no obligations until later in the day. Wooyoung has a couple schedules while Y/N has to run some errands.

With his other hand holding her hand that was resting on his waist, he intertwines their fingers and brings them to his lips, planting a soft kiss on the back of her hand.

"I never knew I could love someone as much as I love you," he expresses, moving her hand to his chest, laying it flat where she can feel his heartbeat against her palm.

Today marks their 2nd anniversary, making him feel particularly sentimental. Y/N shifts slightly to meet his gaze, his deep brown eyes locking with hers.

"I love you, more than words can express," he continues, a sweet smile gracing his handsome features.

“I love you, too” Returning his smile, she leans in to kiss him.

Before she can move away, he pulls her closer. Their lips move in perfect sync as the kiss deepened.

TAGGED: @staytiny2000 - @treehouse-mouse - @kpopmenace143 - @alexxavicry - @jedi-dreea

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berzahoes · 10 months ago

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you and me | izzy stradlin

summary: no matter what axl told him, izzy could never stop loving you.

an: it’s about time i wrote something for my man izzy <3 not an exact timeline of how things actually went but hey, that’s fanfiction for ya!

warnings: axl rose that should always be a warning

the moment izzy saw you, he swore he was in love. at the time, you were both in high school. he had long hair and beat up shoes that were years old. on the other hand, you were the nicest clothes and shoes while your hair was perfectly cut and brushed. he noticed that you always wore a locket, maybe a family member had given it to you as a present.

you were known as the nicest girl in school. nobody had anything bad to say about you until a certain lead singer saw how in love his friend was with you.

“she’s a prude. why waste your time on her?”

izzy would immediately defend you. “you don’t know her. stop saying shit if you don’t know her.”

it was after your high school graduation that you and izzy began to talk. your family had thrown you a party. as you were helping your mom bring in decorations from her car, izzy just so happened to walk by since your houses were close to each other. you noticed him and waved for him to come over. he couldn’t believe that the most popular girl from high school was about to talk to him.

“hi, jeffrey.” you said in your sweet voice that izzy loved.

“you know my name?” he asked.

“well, yeah. we went to the same elementary school. remember mrs. smith? she wore those big glasses?” you said.

“i remember now and i remember you doing a project about the ocean and you said your favorite animal was a betta fish and some kid made fun of you for liking a fish.” he realized how much information he remembered. was it normal to remember all that? he probably looked like a creep—

“it still is. it’s a pretty fish.”

izzy only nodded.

“do you want to come over later? i’m having a graduation party and i would love for you to come.”

“yeah, thanks. maybe i’ll drop by. i’ve been busy with my band.”

“you’re in a band? that’s cool! what kind of music do you play?”

izzy wished he didn’t even the band, but at the same time, he wanted to share what he loved with you. “it’s just a . . band. you know, rock, we play that.”

“cool, maybe i can come see you guys perform?” you questioned.

“if you don’t mind sitting on a old couch in a garage.” he joked.

“every band starts somewhere, jeff.”

“izzy, i go by izzy.” he was nervous about what you thought about his name. did you like it? did you hate it so much that it made you not want to talk to him ever again?

“well, izzy, i still mean what i said.”

during the party, you introduced izzy to your parents. izzy thought it was a bad idea since most parents took one look at him and instantly thought he looked like trouble. but your parents weren’t that type.

“mom, dad, this is izzy. we went to the same elementary school. he graduated too.” you said as izzy shook hands with your parents.

“nice to meet you, izzy. congratulations on your graduation. any plans for your future?” your mom immediately asked.

“honey, the boy just got out of school. the last thing he wants to do is think about college,” your dad said. “our daughter says she wants to travel for a bit before she goes to college. we told her that as long as she has the money and she’s with someone we trust, she can travel as much as she can.”

then you whisper something into izzy’s ear that had both of your parents wondering. when you finished, izzy chuckled and nodded.

“he let me say this, izzy is actually in a band.” you blurted out.

“a band? that’s great. you know, i was almost in a band once. . .” your dad spoke.

and that was your cue to take izzy someplace else so you ended up in your old treehouse that your dad built. the party was still going on as you and izzy layed on the wooden floor.

“do you want to go to college?” izzy asked.

you sighed. both your parents went to college so they expected you to go as well. but all of you wanted to do was travel. you were born and raised in lafayette, the only time you went out of state was for your cousin’s wedding in georgia that you didn’t remember because you were five years old.

“I don’t know. you know how our teachers always say you have to go to college to get a good job and good money? i don’t think that. i want to go anywhere, everywhere. i don’t need a math degree or read shakespeare,” you explained. “i want to go to los angeles, i want to experience it so bad.”

“then let’s go.” izzy said casually.

“what?” you turned to him.

“let’s go to los angeles, you and me.” he repeated.

“but what about your band?” you asked.

“we were never going to make it out of the garage anyways. maybe los angeles has something for me.”

so after a few weeks, it was decided. you and izzy were going to the city of angels. when you told your parents, they were hesitant, but you reminded them of your dad’s words. they helped you pack and even gave you extra money so you wouldn’t worry.

back at izzy’s house, axl was trying to talk him out of leaving, especially with ‘the prude’ as he nicknamed you. but izzy wasn’t listening to him. he continued packing as axl listed all the reasons why it was a bad idea.

“she’s not going to survive the streets of los angeles, izzy. look at her! she’s going to break and then she’ll come back crying to mommy and daddy.” axl stated.

“she won’t because she’ll have me.” izzy replied.

“then you’re both dead.”

soon, you and izzy were on your way to los angeles. your parents had payed for your plane tickets. when the plane touched down in lax, you smiled at the feeling of being out of indiana.

“you ready?” izzy asked, grabbing your hand.

you nodded. “ready.”

1982

you and izzy now called los angeles your home. it took months of working and saving up money, but you and izzy found a nice small house in a good neighborhood. your parents often called to make sure you were okay. you would sometimes find izzy on the phone with your dad.

when you and izzy arrived to the city of angels, you immediately started looking for a job. a record store owner hired you since the store had just opened and the way only had two employees. it was definitely a dream job for you.

it was a spring break when izzy’s friend, axl, decided to join you and permanently move to los angeles.

“you’re still here?” axl asked you when he saw you walk through the door of your house. he was sitting on the couch, feet up on the coffee table. he definitely took the phrase ‘make yourself at home’ too literally.

“yes, axl, i’m still here. this is my home.” you clarified as you walked towards your and izzy’s shared room. you dropped your purse on the floor then threw yourself on the bed. you were exhausted from work and all you wanted to do was sleep, but of course when axl rose is in your house, sleep is not an option.

“hey, you hungry?” you heard izzy ask from the doorway.

you could smell mac and cheese. “not right now, izzy. my feet hurt, i have a headache and i have the opening shift tomorrow.” you groaned.

“you have to eat something.” izzy encouraged.

“she doesn’t want to eat, let her starve i guess.” axl took the pot of mac and cheese from izzy’s hands so he could eat it.

“what is he still doing here?” you had enough and got up from your bed.

“don’t even start with me, bitch!” you heard axl yell as izzy closed the door to your bedroom.

“i’ll make him leave. he’s only here because we were rehearsing. we got a few gigs coming up. i promise he’ll be gone soon.” izzy assured you.

“he just gets in my nerves.” you sighed.

“i know. but he’ll be gone soon and you and i can continue where we left off this morning.” he started kissing you. then axl happened.

“you guys fucking in there?” he pounded his fists on the door.

“i’m going to fucking kill him.”

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