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rose-tinted-juls · 1 year ago

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I'M SCREAMING OMG i should be packing rn bc i move into my new rent for uni today, instead what was i doing? reading this bc i couldn't stop thinking about a house a home and wanted to know what happens next. do i have to rush impossibly now with the packing? yes. do i regret choosing to read where do we go instead? 100% no.

1. THE PARALLELS!!!! i was honestly squealing after reading the first line and the last but let's talk about that later shall we so yeah, the "carlos sainz is a ..." sentences straight on killed me. from the very first second.

2. "charles's eyes are still bright, elated you had decidd to come alongside him. all he had to do now was fix every other mistake spanning over twelve months."

3. "however, his grasp, like the entirely of his actions over the past twenty-four hours, was different. charles' thumb gently stroked over your knuckle, his fingers gently resting against yours instead of the firm grip he usually held for the sake of actions. he'd taken a moment to look at you before entering the building, something he'd never done in the past, simply having dragged you into whatever location instead. it was as if his eyes told you a million things; that he had your back and the moment you wanted to leave, he was right behind you."

4. this conversation: "i didn't realise you'd be here, mariposa. come to make sure your husband behaves?" - "no. i came to see how his teammate is behaving. i'm a married woman, carlos." - *your marital status doesn't change the way i feel for you." I'M DEAD I'M SCREAMING I LOVE THESE TWO SO MUCH

5. "he tries to keep his breathing calm, your presense practically overpowering him." oh to be that woman who has that effect on carlos sainz jr himself.

6. "when you take a sip of the rich red, you're blissfully unaware of your husband's eyes; the ones which are never attached to you, but in that moment, don't want to focus on anything else." AHHHHH honestly jay you're killing me over here

7. also, "nobody misses the way he purposely sits between yourself and his teammate, fingers interlocked into yours tightly, the occasional kiss on the temple of your head. you were his wife, after all." EXCUSE ME. i don't even know why am i crying at this so hard i just do

8. "it didn't stop him from gently rubbing a makeup wipe over your features, knowing you'd regret your lack of attention to appearance in the morning." DOMESTIC CHARLES 😭😭 also this is finally something so husband of him why are you so late with this charles why couldn't you be like this a year ago 😭

9. "you can'thelp but hesitate when you pull back from his face, lingering within mere millimeters of his lips for a long moment; you could just lean forward, press your lips to his and give into all those nights you had dreamed of. but this wasn't a dream; this was your husband whom you needed to fix a relationship with first." SHE STRONG omg i could never be her, half broken relationship or not i would kiss charles leclerc no matter what.

10. CHARLES AND HER LITTLE SISTER 😭😭 and how she reminds him of baby arthur 😭 i'm not okay rn

11. "undeniably, carlos sainz looks good in any situation." *george russell voice* FACT. carlos is honestly unreal by how good he always looks.

12. again, the beginning and end of "carlos sainz is a best friend" and "carlos sainz is your best friend" ughh *chefs kiss* breathtaking writing once more

13. i FEAR that the photo carlos took of her sleeping will come back somehow and it will cause me pain i'm AFRAID

14. so back to the parallels. FINISHING AGAIN WITH A CONFESSING TEXT!!!! AND THIS TIME IT'S CHARLES ADMITTING TO BE IN LOVE WITH HER. I'M DECEASED AND IN HEAVEN FOR SURE. charles babe why are you so late and make things so much more complicated </3

another gorgeous chapter by the queen herself that i couldn't help but read asap. now i just have to find time to read the third part and my life will be complete. new fave c2 fic? easily. i ADORE everything about this fic and about its precious writer. there are no words that could properly express how much i love you, @forteafy <333

Where Do We Go? | CL16 & CS55

Summary: Charles will do anything to fix his marriage with you, Carlos will do anything to prove you're worth more. The question is where do you go between the two men fighting for your affection?

Word Count: 9.7k

Warnings: angst, a lotta angst, cheating, light smut, character death.

Note: You all really wanted a Part 2 to this one, and of course, I wanted to deliver! This is a little bit more angsty, we’re trying to save a relationship, after all. Or…are we? Also, a massive thank you to @formulaforza for proof-reading this for me and pulling me up on my addiction to italics; my brain is literally jelly right now. Enjoy, everybody!

You can read part 1, ‘A House, A Home,’ HERE!

Carlos Sainz is a best friend.

Best friends, however, do not text a love confession to one another in the hours of a rising sun, especially not when their declaration is to a woman who is wrapped up in the arms of her husband.

The confession had run cold through your veins; if it hadn’t been for the sheer exhaustion taking over your body from the events of the past 48 hours, you were certain you would have been up the entire night, contemplating the words he had sent to you. He wasn’t drunk; far from it, the man had driven you down the dusky streets to your home mere hours before. Was he lonely? Did he feel sorry for you? More importantly, did he mean those precious words that had lit up your screen?

Eventually, the desire for sleep, for the warmth of your estranged husband’s chest pillowing your back overtakes your body. You hadn’t slept in a bed with him since the last day of your supposed honeymoon; even then, you had slept with an infinite gap between the two of you, cuddling instead into a pillow, rageful tears in your eyes at the realization that this was now your life.

This was entirely different. Charles pressed into you as if holding you together; his warm breath danced across the nape of your neck, a hand pressed into your stomach, cradling you between the warm blankets and soft cushions you had picked out when decorating your room. You didn’t rouse during the night, the two before had been filled with tears, constantly awakening to call for your mother as if you were a child again, the harsh realization that she wasn’t around anymore.

When you did wake, the bed was empty.

You had subconsciously turned in the blankets when you arose, expecting to see the figure of your husband next to you. The pillow was still rumpled, his glasses disappeared from the nightstand, every single trace of him had seemed to evaporate. Clearly, one night next to you had been a big enough mistake in his eyes.

Instead, your attention turns towards your phone. Silently, you remove the device from its charger, the homescreen being flooded with sympathetic messages and photographs of you arriving at your father’s home. Luckily, no photographs of Carlos picking you up himself had been released; that would have caused a frenzy which wasn’t desired on either side.

However, his last text to you that evening before still stayed burned into your screen. In curiosity, you’d once again opened the text thread, seeing th

e words stand strong, his confession to his feelings presents for your eyes. He had laid it out so clearly, Carlos Sainz was in love with you.

But, were you in love with him? You loved your family; you loved the smell of fresh candles. You adored the sounds of the fastest cars in the world racing around a track whilst you watched with ease. Did you categorize your best friend into the love you so carefully crafted? Was the desire you felt for contact solely directed towards him?

You never had time to answer yourself that morning. Your subconscious state recognised the sound of footsteps; it was most likely Charles, on his way to his own room for some private time. Maybe he’d have his mistress with him, having snuck out of bed early that morning to possibly go and pick her up himself.

The footsteps get louder, the door to your room opens, much to your confusion. In the doorway, stands your husband. You’ve never seen him like this; a soft smile, hair pushed back by a bandana, glasses resting on the bridge of his small nose. He’s dressed in a soft, grey jumper and matching tracksuit bottoms, fluffy socks warming his feet. In one arm, he cradles a washing bag. Upon closer inspection, you see that it’s your washing from the case you had lugged in the night before, ironed and folded. In his other hand, he holds a steaming mug of tea.

He looks beautiful like this, almost ethereal. He looks domestic.

“Good morning.” He speaks gently, as if any sudden sound would hurt you. You looked…so precious, covered in blankets, your pajamas covering your modesty. “I’m sorry I had to leave early. I went to get your washing done and…pick up some tea.” He offers, holding up the bag of washing in confirmation. Charles offers you a smile as walks into the room, placing the pile of clothing on your vanity. Cradling the mug of hot tea in his hand, he walks back over to where you’re now sat up, surrounded by soft furnishings, offering you the drink which you gladly accept.

It's a mediocre cup of tea at best; the teabag hasn’t diluted properly, there’s too little milk and too much sugar. Yet, the fact he had made the drink himself caused your heart to soften, despite the past twelve months of actions. You offer him a soft ‘thank you,’ as the drink touches your lips. You’re half-expecting him to stand up and leave immediately. Instead, Charles sits himself down on the edge of the bed, making certain he doesn’t sit on your outstretched legs.

There’s a moment of bliss; you’re somewhat enjoying the drink cradled in your hands, your husband’s eyes trained on your movements. At one moment, he reaches out his hand towards your face. You flinch, not too sure on what was happening, before his palm simply tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. You can’t bring your own eye gaze to meet him, simply focusing on the hot drink in your hand. You can’t help but notice the way his shoulders fall, clearly not satisfied with the lack of eye-contact.

You can’t help it; it’s as if Charles believes with one night wrapped in his arms would solve the past twelve months. You couldn’t forget, not everything that had happened. Your husband had shattered this relationship, well and truly. He could only hope he’d realised in enough time to somehow win you back. Silently, he stands up from the edge of the comforter, walking towards the vanity, beginning to remove the clothing from its basket. It’s… humorous, to see him try and figure out where each category goes. It’s also a stark reminder of how this is ‘your’ room, not ‘our’ room.

Whilst picking out a rather revealing pair of panties, folding them up and placing them into your draw, he begins to speak again. “What are you doing this afternoon?” His voice is soft, but in the silent room it carries well.

You shrug, before realizing Charles has his back to you. “I’m…nothing much.” You cut yourself off, placing the cup of tea on your bedside table, letting your hands pull up the comforter a little higher. “My father is going to the funeral parlor today.” Are you…having a conversation with your husband? “How about you?”

“I have lunch with the Ferrari team this afternoon. Nothing serious, just a talk on the next part of the season.” He explains. Charles isn’t stupid; he knows despite your father’s input that you constantly worry about his job. Not because you care about his fame, wealth or power; you care about him.

“I was,” he takes a breath. “I was wondering if you would like to come along.”

You feel goosebumps prickle across your exposed skin. Charles Leclerc never invited you to his lunches. He’d always have a reason as to why his darling Mrs. Leclerc could never attend their lunch meetings alongside him. The only time you’d ever appear by his side, fingers harshly interlinked and a cold barrier between you both was when your father insisted upon it. He wouldn’t be there today, there was no way he’d be present for any form of meeting for a while now.

“You don’t have to, of course.” His explanation runs further. “I know it might be too much for you now. I just thought…maybe we could go for a drive after. Carlos and Xavi will be there, you’ll know some of the others from the Paddock…” His voice trails off in your mind. It had started to the moment he had said the Spaniards name.

Were you… ready to see Carlos? The day after a text message you had never thought you’d see. Would he acknowledge the message, was it a drunken mistake? Most importantly, did you want him to love you?

When you come back out of your trail of thoughts, Charles is still talking, carefully hanging one of your summer dresses onto a velvet coat hanger. He takes a moment to brush the fabric under his fingertips, feeling the soft cotton under his touch. He’s so gentle. The touch is almost identical to the way he had held you mere hours ago.

“I’ll come.” You cut him off, watching as his head snaps in your direction, eyes bright underneath his glasses. “Yeah. It will be…nice.” You finish your sentence, trying not to ramble or to float off topic. Charles’ eyes are still bright, elated you had decided to come alongside him. All he had to do now was fix every other mistake spanning over twelve months.

Carlos Sainz is a red-wine gentleman.

You’d immediately spotted him the moment you had entered the waterside restaurant; his back was to the entrance, but you’d recognise the powdered blue shirt and dark wisps of hair in any circumstance. You could have just walked over, stood next to him and ordered a drink, but your fingers stayed tightly interlocked with your husbands, a force of habit in public at the current rate.

However, his grasp, like the entirety of his actions over the past twenty-four hours, was different. Charles’ thumb gently stroked over your knuckle, his fingers gently resting against yours instead of the firm grip he usually held for the sake of actions. He’d taken a moment to look at you before entering the building, something he’d never done in the past, simply having dragged you into whatever location instead. It was as if his eyes told you a million things; that he had your back and the moment you wanted to leave, he was right behind you.

The moment you’re in the presence of company, the façade still comes alive, the act you had been creating for all this time is still a force of habit. Charles’ hand comes around your waist, greeting the many members of the Scuderia Ferrari team, thanking them for his time and attention to the matter. As always, you tactfully excuse yourself from the side of your husband, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek and removing yourself from the crowd. Usually, he wouldn’t so much as flinch from the chaste action, but you don’t miss his eyes longing for you to stay this time.

Instead, your heel-clad feet press through the tiles of the place, making advancements towards the white marbled-bar. You receive a nod from the friendly-looking gentleman mixing cocktails, a silent signal to let him know when you’re ready. Maybe you stand too close to Carlos, so much so that you can smell his cologne, you can feel his body warmth radiating through that shirt. It doesn’t take long for him to notice your presence, his eyes widening upon the realization that it was, in fact, you–the woman he had confessed his feelings to less than twelve hours ago.

“I didn’t realize you’d be here, Mariposa,” he taunts, pulling you into his side. You’re grinning immediately, happy to be reunited with your close friend after how he had left you last night, promising he’d be there if you needed anything. “Come to make sure your husband behaves?”

“No. I came to see how his teammate is behaving.” You let him ponder for a moment, but he realizes, the blush growing from his neck to his cheeks. “I’m a married woman, Carlos.” You remind him but make no attempt to move further away. The idea is completely eradicated when his hand comes out to rest on the small of your back. His eyes are still fixed on you. He knows he shouldn’t be doing this. It’s not fair to you. He couldn’t care less about his teammate’s position, the way he’s treated you all this time leaves a sour taste on his tongue.

“Your marital status doesn’t change the way I feel for you.” He thinks back to that moment in the ocean. What on Earth would be happening if he had kissed you at that moment? He could never be certain, but something tells him you’d be his date to this luncheon right now. Sighing, Carlos turns to face you directly, the bottle of wine he had originally come to pick up having been left on the counter.

“I’m going to ask you something, and you don’t have to respond.” He tries to keep his breathing calm, your presence practically overpowering him. “But...I would love to take you out for a date sometime. A proper date. With flowers and dinner and being able to make you smile.” Your heart is softening by the moment with the Spaniard’s pleads of everything your husband had never given you. “Would you like that?”

“I would.” You don’t even have to think of your response. “I would like that, Carlos.” At that moment, your estranged husband is the last thought of your mind; instead it’s overpowered by the fantasies of a date with the man standing in front of you. This time, Carlos can’t help the grin on his lips, reaching for the bottle of red wine on the bar. His careful hands carefully unlatch the stopper, the liquid hitting two crystal glasses, one of which he passes to you.

“Well, shall we toast the idea, no?” he holds up the glass delicately, to which you raise your own, grinning at the satisfying sound of clinking crockery. When you take a sip of the rich red, you’re blissfully unaware of your husband’s eyes; the ones which are never attached to you, but in that moment, don’t want to focus on anything else. Nobody misses the way he purposely sits between yourself and his teammate, fingers interlocked into yours tightly, the occasional kiss on the temple of your head.

You were his wife, after all.

Carlos Sainz is a brilliant cook.

The intimacy between yourself and your husband had oddly grown within the past week. To start, his messages became more frequent, checking in when he couldn’t be at the house. Your pantry had stocked overnight, begging for your home cooking whenever he could be there to sample it. Most importantly, the interaction. You’d been hesitant to even let your husband touch you in the beginning. You had kept it simple, a hug before you’d headed off to bed in your room, (sleeping in the same bed as him had been that one-off.) His arms would find their way onto your waist if you were cooking, his fingers would tuck a lock of hair behind your ear when you found yourself engrossed in studies.

Your husband had been elated when you had spoken to him two days before he was due to leave for Qatar, announcing you would like to attend alongside him; it was also your father’s wishes to attend that race, wanting to signal to his fellow associates that he was okay, that you could pass on a message from your family. Charles’ eyes had glossed over with happiness, taking your hand in his own, pressing a kiss to the back of your knuckles.

You were ready for your entrance to the Paddock 72 hours later; after arriving in Qatar, you’d barely seen anything from the transport from his jet to the hotel. Your eyes had grown heavy the moment your feet were removed from their shoes, two large beds welcoming you with their soft blankets and heavy pillows. (He’d made sure to give you the sleeping space that you needed.) Charles’ heart had softened when he’d seen you curl into one bed. When he returned from the bathroom, you were out like a light.

It didn’t stop him from gently rubbing a makeup wipe over your features, knowing you’d regret your lack of attention to appearance in the morning. Hesitantly, he leans forward, pressing a kiss to your hairline, one hand stroking over the back of your head before he returns to unpacking both yours and his suitcase.

You had been hesitant of attending the Paddock alongside Charles that morning, not because you were worried of the bombarding questions. No, this was the first time you had attended the paddock with a husband who seemed comforted by your presence. His heart felt gentle when he saw you look out of the front windscreen, eyes transfixed on the countless photographers standing by the barriers. Immediately, his hand finds yours, resting atop your thigh, the hot weather pleading for a cooler outfit.

“You don’t have to do this.” He removes his sunglasses, those ocean eyes finding your own. “You can wait here, or I can have somebody drive you back to the hotel now.” He promises, the worry flickering over his face. Your hand removes itself from his firm grasp, instead reaching forward and resting your hand on his bristled cheek.

“I’m okay.” You promise him, thumb dancing over his soft cheekbone. He offers you a soft smile, eyelashes fluttering as your face gets closer to his; you have no panic leaning over the console of the hire-car, gently pressing a warm kiss to the cheek your hand wasn’t resting upon. You can’t help but hesitate when you pull back from his face, lingering within mere millimeters of his lips for a long moment; you could just lean forward, press your lips to his and give into all those nights you had dreamed of. But this wasn’t a dream; this was your husband whom you needed to fix a relationship with first.

Charles isn’t going to lean forward and kiss you himself, not until the signals you are giving him are crystal clear. Instead, he presses his forehead close to yours, tips of your noses gently brushing against one another before he steps out of the car, and you’re quick to follow.

This time, he doesn’t walk in silence, ignoring your presence. Instead, as the two of you flash your paddock passes towards the security guards, he’s openly commenting on different happenings around Media Day, both of you falling into giggles upon seeing Toto Wolff’s broken arm; he was truly beginning to become an icon at the local emergency room. You’re happy. Subdued in a bubble alongside your husband, hands interlocked as you work your way through the paddock.

You’ve never experienced such a harsh blow to reality when you see an all-too-familiar figure lurking outside of the Williams Racing building. Her hair is shorter, her skirt is skimpier and a ghastly color. However, she still looks beautiful. She is undoubtedly the woman you’ve fought and lost your husband’s affection from, his mistress.

Charles seems to clock less than a moment after you do, both bodies freezing upon notifying her presence. You seem to have a quicker reaction time, despite being in the presence of a world-class Formula Driver. Immediately, you rip your grasp from Charles’ hand, showing him no emotion as you step away and into the Ferrari Building. You’re fortunate enough to avoid most of your fathers’ colleges, only once having to stop to give a sympathizing message of your mothers’ passing, the words being used are minute compared to the ache in your heart for her presence.

When you reach the top of the dark stairs, almost certain you can hear Charles’ voice below you. He’s searching for you now, but instead is overwhelmed by the amount of people in his presence. You’re able to sneak through the makeshift corridor, finding a large number ’55,’ pressed onto the door. You don’t even think, opening the door to a very tanned, very shirtless Carlos Sainz.

He's so… toned. The natural light from the window is reflecting beautifully onto his chest, broader than you’d last seen during your adventures at sea. His shorts hang low on his waist, making no attempt to shift his body despite your appearance. Instead, his dressing is overtaken by his concern for your face, immediately dropping the shirt fisted in his right hand, taking your gentle face in between both of his palms. You didn’t even realize the tears resting on your cheeks, the fear glossed over in your eyes that you’d ever trusted Charles.

Carlos doesn’t need to ask; he saw her on his own entry to the Paddock. Admittedly, he had to double-take; surely Charles wouldn’t have the audacity to bring his mistress to the other side of the world. He didn’t bother to glance in her direction too long, instead greeting the Ferrari team, excusing himself to go and get changed for their upcoming press appearances. In this moment, he’s held you against his bare chest, hushing you gently as one hand threads through your hair. Your mind is overwhelmed, from seeing your husband’s mistress, but from being pressed against his oh-so warm chest.

You don’t even realize, but your palms are resting on his chest, his skin so soft beneath your touch. Carlos gently hushes you, tilting your head up to face him, still cradled in his grasp. He could so easily reach forward, claim you there and then, but he realizes in that moment, under your soft touch and those doe eyes, you are the one who has claimed him. After a moment, he pulls back, motioning for you to follow him towards the couch, littered in Spanish-themed cushions and the enormous chili plushie you had bought him several months ago.

You can’t help the slight disappointment when Carlos eventually slips on his Ferrari Polo; however, you are interested when he reaches for his small fridge, pulling out a neat lunchbox, motioning for you to grasp it whilst he reaches for another. Curiosity takes the better of you, gently unclasping the lid of the Tupperware box. A beautiful aroma overtakes your senses, a carefully crafted meal nestled into the lunchbox. The Spaniard can’t help but grin at your reaction; sometimes something as simple as a homemade meal could lift your spirits.

And that’s how you spent the next forty-five minutes, sat on the sofa of Carlos Sainz’s driver room, the man sat on the floor as the two of you exchanged bites of food. There’s one particular moment where you offer him a spoonful of your lunchbox, watching as he arches his torso towards you.

It’s almost…sensual, the way his lips wrap around the top of the spoon, maintaining sole eye contact as he retracts his mouth from the utensil, letting his tongue trace around his lips for a chase of the taste. He knows what he’s doing; in his mind, all he wants is to show how adored you could be, to show he could be everything your husband never was.

It isn’t until Charles is finally free from the bombarding questions of his sponsors that he finally locates you in Carlos’ room. The man isn’t oblivious; he can see that the two of you have grown undeniably close. He can’t bring himself to say anything on the matter. He knows, in his heart of hearts, he has no right to make any assumptions; he was the one who had spent hours with a mistress, after all. Silently, he opens the door to the driver’s room, your figure perched upon the sofa, a grin plastering your soft features. You looked happy.

You looked like the most beautiful girl he had seen in his life.

You acknowledge his presence after a few moments, standing up from your place on the sofa, insisting the man tries Carlos’ cooking. It takes less than a few blinks of your eyes for him to submit, taking the spoonful off your utensil, making a comment towards his teammate that he would have to give him some lessons at some point. The man says nothing, simply nodding in a passive agreement.

There’s a sharp call for Charles after he wipes his mouth on the back of his hand. He shoots both you and his teammate an apologetic look before he makes his way down the corridor, gently closing the door behind him as to give you a sense of privacy; the last thing he wanted was to have you plastered all over social media pages when he knew it would purely be used for publicity purposes.

You’re still smiling when the door closes, your back to Carlos’ front. “He seems to like you-“

You were destined to never finish that sentence. Within a split moment, there are warm hands, rough hands resting on either side of your waist, twisting your body within his grasp. He takes two steps backwards, enough pacing to have your back pressed against the closed door: the coldness of the wood contrasting violently with the heat radiating off your best friend.

He couldn’t hold any emotion. Carlos Sainz wears his heart on his sleeve. That much is adamant, from the way his text messages were drafted, to the way he tilts his head, meshing his lips to your own.

They’re surprisingly soft; there’s nothing soft in the way his hands grasp at your waist, the way his body is pressing so deeply into yours. Yet, as his lips continue to entrance yours, they feel like clouds; a gentle stroke of a paintbrush. His artistry continues when his kisses get deeper, one of his hands enclosing yours, bringing it to rest around his shoulders, pushing the two of you closer together. Your other hand is interlocked by his, being stretched above your head, pinned to the door you’re resting upon.

He's waited so long for this, before lunch, before your moment in the sea. He’s wanted this since the moment you walked into the Ferrari Paddock alongside your father, you must have been etched into his heart.

Carlos isn’t thinking; his kisses are becoming rougher, one hand blindly reaching for your leg, almost bare from the shorts you had opted from your wardrobe earlier. He guides it to rest upon his hip, grunting when he can feel his hardened crotch press between your legs. His reality comes crashing down when he feels the cool band on your fingers entangling in his hair. Your wedding ring.

Ragged breaths, panting, he pulls away from your lips, pressing his forehead to your own in a sheer plea of comfort. Both your breaths are synchronized, both grasping for some form of air in the room.

“You’re everything, Mariposa.” He whispers, closing his dark eyes, enjoying his moment, taking every opportunity to imprint the feeling of your body, of your lips into his mind. He prays this won’t be the last time he holds you this way.

Carlos Sainz is a fast texter.

In the moments after you had shared the intimacy, hidden away in his driver’s room, he’s gone into a sheer panic. He’d overstepped, he’d made an advancement on you at your most vulnerable. When he had left for the press alongside your husband, he didn’t have a single chance to pull you aside, not when you had left the moment after the duo had been pulled into their press conferences. Simply, you were not waiting around to catch glimpses of the mistress, still proudly flocking around the Paddock as if it was her home.

It had taken a matter of moments to request a car home, having slipped out of the Ferrari building, talking to one of your father’s colleagues about your departure. Silently, you paced out of the building, a direct beeline towards the car park, head down from the ever-present photographers.

You hadn’t expected a text from either your husband or his teammate, considering that they were both in press conferences until further notice. However, when you had felt and grasped the device in your shorts, you had immediately noticed the soft vibrations, pulling your device out of your pocket, your eyes being illuminated by the screen of your phone. Two text messages. One from your father, one from Carlos. Your attention is drawn to the latter, curious on what your best friend has to say.

11:32: Carlos Sainz:

I’m really, truly sorry if I’ve made you uncomfortable. I haven’t seen Charles yet to let him know you left. You don’t have to see me again if you do not wish.

11:36: You

It wasn’t you at all, I promise! I was aware that Charles’ mistress was about, I couldn’t stick about for that.

Carlos messages you back, almost immediately. You’re confused, considering he is due to be in press alongside Charles. He could be having a break; he could have completely skipped out on several media appearances.

11:38: Carlos Sainz

I wish you could have stayed longer. I meant what I said, every single word. Please let me know if you need anything.

11:41: You

I know, C. I appreciate it, even if I express it terribly. I’ll always be here for you, too. Always.

You never get to see the next message that Carlos sends to you. Instead, your phone starts ringing, an incoming call from your father. You’re certain that the chauffeur won’t mind you taking the call whatsoever, holding the device to your ear as your father’s tone fills the void, his words becoming numbing as he runs through the details of your mother’s funeral, the tears in his voice beginning to swell heavily.

Charles had left the Paddock as soon as he got notice of your departure. He hadn’t bothered to message, his sole focus being on returning to the hotel, to find out what on Earth had happened to you. He was fortunate enough to escape the wandering eyes of his ex-mistress, how on Earth she had gotten into the Paddock for that race was beyond him, especially since he had ceased contact from that day.

The car arrives swiftly outside of the hotel; immediately, Charles is rushing through the back entrance, beelining for the staircase; waiting for an elevator at this moment would be too much. Within moments, he’s fumbling for his key card, pushing the door open, his heart shattering at the vision in front of him.

You, his wife, sat on the edge of one of the king-size beds; your head is buried into your hands, heavy sobs racking through your body. He can see the goosebumps littering your skin, the solemn shakes running through you, the trauma of losing somebody you cared about so deeply, combined with a cocktail of emotions from your entrance to the Paddock had become too much.

He doesn’t care about boundaries, not at this point. Immediately, Charles has crouched in front of you, his gentle hands reaching to grasp around your wrists. There’s a flinch at the sudden contact; your skin had overheated from the sheer energy of crying; your husband’s cool touch was a stark contrast which made you shiver. Delicate touches pull your hands away from your eyes. They’re so red, so swollen. Had he ever made you react like that from his own actions. The Monegasque doesn’t want to question that right now, he can’t even bring himself to look into your broken eyes. Instead, he feels as your arms wrap around his neck, hiding your face in his neck, craving for somebody to just…hold you.

Your husband has no issue in that desire; he lets you remain like that, Charles on his knees whilst you cling to him, the tears dampening through his shirt. One hand slides across your back, kneading gentle circles into your skin. At some point, you move onto the bed, the man lying back on the soft furnishings whilst you rest your head on his chest, arms encircling you as if he could hold you together, until the storm in your mind passes.

When the tears subside, you finally find the energy to look up to your husband. He hadn’t reached for his phone, tried to find some form of entertainment whilst he held you to his chest for hours. Instead, his gaze had been fixed upon you, brushing a gentle stroke over your cheek, his fingers dancing against your skin, brushing away the tension from heavy lines and sobs. When your eyes do open, you’re greeted with a soft smile, Charles leaning down to press a kiss to the top of your head.

“Do you need some water?” His concern is to bring you back up to health; now the tears have stopped, he can do this. “I can order some food; would you like that?” His voice is so quiet, as if a simple loud sound could shatter through your veins. You can’t muster up more than a nod, your body becoming colder when Charles’ gently shifts away, sitting up so he can reach for the telephone. His voice is so mesmerizing, speaking down the line as he requests different foods; he doesn’t mind how much he orders, if he can coax you into even eating a little, the man will be satisfied.

The call finishes, but the man doesn’t sink back down into his previous position. Instead, whilst he remains sat up, Charles guides you to join him, your body still aching from your emotional breakdown. He murmurs under his breath as he pulls you into his lap, your body is tense until his strong arms wrap around your waist, the warmth instantly allowing you to relax, lean back into his firm chest.

“I’ve wanted to speak to you for a few days.” His voice is soft, but the phrase causes you to feel a sharp panic dance down your chest. Surely, this can’t be good. The relationship had evolved from barely speaking to intimate conversations within a span of two weeks. You try, try so hard to keep a clear mind as your husband continues to address you.

“How I’ve acted…how I treated you, all that time-“ He must stop himself, trying not to let his own emotion overpower his words. “I’m never going to be able to take it all back, and I will never be able to stop apologizing for it.” His whispers, his eyes growing misty with regret. “I will never forgive myself for how I treated you, nor do I ever expect you to forgive me. But…I want to try. I want to try and spend the rest of my days as you husband. I know…it won’t be overnight, but I’ll do anything, anything for you.”

The tears are rolling down your own cheeks now; never, in your wildest dreams, did you expect for Charles to speak those words of affirmation to you. His hand moves cautiously, to your face, wiping the tears which were pooling across your features.

“You’re so beautiful.” He whispers, letting one of his hands remain on your cheek. The man leans forward, pressing gentle butterfly kisses to your forehead, your cheeks, your nose…he pauses, mere inches from your lips. He wants to kiss you; he’d promised himself he wasn’t going to push you; his mind and his heart are complete opposites.

His mind goes into overdrive when you lean forward and press your lips to his own. They’re salty, slightly chapped, but undeniably something he has been craving for oh-so-long. Charles is immediately kissing you back, his grip around you tightening, keeping your body close to his own. Carefully, he shuffles the two of you back into a lying position, never once breaking the kiss, tumbling back onto the mattress.

Of course, you don’t miss his grumble of annoyance when the food eventually arrives.

Carlos Sainz is a gentle kisser.

An autumn breeze was strong on the dreaded day; the funeral had rolled around way too soon for your liking. Rows of family connections, close and distant friends lined the outside of the cemetery, eyes all transfixed on the black hearse rolling into view. Murmurs were pressed into silence, a bitter air all-too present as the ivory coffin was removed from the vehicle. Your elder brother and two cousins were to assist in carrying the piece into the church. Plans were soon suspended when the eldest of your siblings collapsed into tears, head in his hands upon the sheer realization that this was it.

Your father is desperately looking around, practically praying outside a place of worship that the eldest could pull himself together; it’s impossible. Whilst one of your arms is occupied, holding the hand of your young sister, the other gently wraps around his torso, comforting him in the ways he had done for you when you were nothing more than a young girl in messy braids and mismatched socks.

His wife stood on his right-hand side, adamant on consoling the man as you were, a caring hand running across his back. Your husband stood next to your sister, her childish eyes blinking in confusion; just like you, she had never seen her brother this inconsolable.

Charles feels a pain wash through him, he wants nothing more than to help his dear family through this moment. Maybe the act he was playing for so long was just a way of shielding himself from caring. Now he had bared his soul towards you, pleading for a second chance, the man wanted to be there for you, in every sense of the word.

He murmurs something incoherently, stepping away from your side, leaning towards your father’s ear. Whatever he mumbles is met with a sharp nod, a firm pat on the shoulder in confirmation. Your husband keeps a firm gaze on the coffin, not catching your own eyes as he walks towards the piece to join your cousins. There’s a quick whisper between the men, before the ivory is shuffled from the car, resting on their suit-clad shoulders. Silence falls over the attendants as your mother is carried into the church, immediate family following closely behind. Hesitantly, your eyes look to the crowding people, and as if by fate, you see his dark eyes, the fluffy curls brushed back to conform. He shouldn’t look that good in a dark suit.

Most noticeably, his gaze isn’t fixed on the church, on the six men carrying your mother. It’s transfixed on you.

The service is beautiful, if you can describe it like that. Flowers are placed atop of your mother’s coffin, the service of words correlating to her soul, the hymns sung were always her favorite when you had frequented church as a young girl. However, there’s a turning point. When the priest begins to speak of her dear children, tears pool in your lower lash-line. You want to take the time for yourself, to mourn, but louder sobs are emitting from next to you; the youngest child is beginning to realize her mother is truly gone.

You’re torn; pulling her towards you would only make you cry harder; you had already seen your father and brother fall apart, silently knowing you would have to be the one to wait by the door, thanking the copious guests for attending. Her tears are suddenly quietened when you see her gently shuffled into Charles’ lap; despite the estranged relationship for the past twelve months, he’d always had a soft spot for your sister, she reminded him of when Arthur was young. Whilst her tears turn softer, he runs a hand over her back, letting the young girl rest her heavy head in his sternum.

The open gap in the seating allowed for you to shuffle closer towards your husband, his free arm wrapping around your torso. You had to remain sitting up straight; his presence right now would have to be enough for your comfort. To any unassuming eye, you would probably look like a family, the crowds of attendants would have no idea of the true story behind your marriage. Even on the darkest days, the narrative was played well.

When the service draws to a close, final prayers are spoken. The first to rise are your father and brother, both clinging to one-another as they must leave the building. Silently, you pull yourself away from your husband’s grasp, smoothing the skirt of your dress. Charles remains seated, your sister practically passing out atop of him. Today had been a heavy day for a child, after all.

There are rows of people pausing to console you on your loss whilst you stand at the door of the church; friends you had known for oh-so-long, members of the Scuderia Ferrari team; you had never seen Fred Vasseur cry, but the redness of his eyes told you something completely different as he took one of your hands in his, squeezing it in apology.

The pews filter out silently, a large group of the guests making their way back to your father’s home, the wake soon to begin, a blessing and want of your late mother. Sharp footsteps are emitted through the church, the penultimate duo being your husband and sister. He was still carrying her, head resting on his shoulder, almost completely asleep. Charles smiles at finally seeing you, using his free hand to run across the back of your head.

“I’m going to take her back.” Charles explains to you. He understands you don't need the pressure of looking after her atop of everything else bound to come your way. “Let me know when you’re done here, please?” Silently, you nod, no hesitation needed as he leans forward, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, bidding you farewell as he paces out of the church, holding your sister tightly in comfort.

You believe that’s everybody, ready to collect your belongings and thank the priest for a heart-warming farewell. Before you can even think to turn around, there’s a light cough, emitting you to spin on your heel.

He’s there. Still clad in his designer suit, hair pushed back behind his ears. Undeniably, Carlos Sainz looks good in any situation. He holds your bag in one hand, the other reaching out to clasp around your wrist. You gasp at the warm skin pressing to your own, heat radiating through your body. The man leans down, letting his lips brush against your own, a sweet feathering brush pressing onto you. Carlos wanted to be there for you, more than ever on what would be the hardest day.

Seeing Charles take that position had made his blood boil.

His grip on you remains tight as he leads you out of the church and towards his own car, parked in the most secluded section of the lot. When his grip falters to hold your hand instead, he doesn’t aim to correct it, instead only holding tighter. He only removes his grasp to unlock his car, sliding himself into the driving seat, pushing the recliner back as far as it would go. When the space is present, he guides you to rest atop of his lap, arms tightening around your waist as he lets the door close, bodies pressed together tightly.

“Is this okay?” He murmurs, keeping your faces so close together. The built-up emotion, the desire since your last kiss had built a fire in your stomach, not so much as speaking before pressing your lips to his own. Whilst your own movements had become desperate, craving for some form of emotional release, his remained feather-light, one hand tangled into your hair, the other resting firmly on your waist.

His lips are soon ghosting over your cheek, fluttering across your jawline and landing on your neck, small whines emitting from your lips as he seeks to trace his tongue over your sweetest spot. The sensation across your body, the hot touch of his skin and an undeniable bulge now settling between your legs.

There’s a sudden realization that you needed to go home. Being with Carlos was the affection you desired, your heart knows however that right now, your family needs you. Hesitantly, you pull away from the man’s lips, feeling utterly guilty for the pleading look in his eyes as you rest your forehead against his own. He could never hate you for it, though. In his eyes, you could never draw that feeling from him. You don’t need to say anything, he knows.

“I’ll drive you back.” He murmurs, pressing one final kiss to your lips before allowing you to slide into the leather passenger seat.

The drive to your father’s home is almost silent; there’s an occasional rev of the engine, various horns from different cars along the highway. A part of you always prays that each drive with the Spaniard could last forever, you could drive into the distance and live happily ever after. The fairy-tale is soon dissolved when you pull to the driveway, hearing the engine of the car cease. Your eyes find Carlos’ side profile, still transfixed on the road ahead.

“Are you coming in?” You ask gently. He sighs, the grip on his steering wheel becoming tighter.

“I can’t see you that close to him, Mariposa.” He murmurs, finally finding the courage to look you in the eyes. “Not when I want to be that close to you.” One hand finds its way off the wheel, entwining your fingers together, peppering light kisses against your knuckles. “Please call me when you go back. I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too.” You whisper, leaning to press a kiss to his stubbled cheek. In that moment, Carlos Sainz is your savior. He’s your truth.

Carlos Sainz is a liar.

Your knuckles had turned white from the grasp on your phone, you didn’t want to believe anything you were seeing. What was supposed to be an impromptu browse of Twitter whilst waiting for your husband to finish in the en-suite, had turned into a deep dive through a certain hashtag, having seen information spread on a certain Ferrari driver.

It had started as a simple few tweets, some fans and gossip pages reckoning they had seen the driver in an exclusive club, some random blonde sitting on top of him. The photos came second, though the angle was skewed, the quality too weak to see who was there. The final nail was the video; Carlos’ hand placed on her waist, how he had done to you mere hours ago, his mouth pressing against hers, clearly nothing else on his mind.

Granted, you knew you had no right to feel the anger you did; after all, you were married, Carlos was a single man, free to do as he desired. Yet, your rage was fuelled by the romantic, now seemingly empty promises he had made you; how you were his everything, how he would treat you better than Charles ever did. He was no different than Charles Leclerc, and as your fumbled fingers reached to his contact, your rage felt inclined to tell him that.

The phone rings once, twice, three times. You’re set to hang up, leave a particularly nasty text message to the man before the line connects. Immediately, your eardrums are overtaken by the loud pulse of a nightclub, some feminine laughter almost directly on top of him.

“Are you okay?” He asks. Clearly, he’s now intoxicated, his accent is always thicker when he is. You hear another voice, telling him to hang up the phone and to come and dance with her. “Hey- are you there?”

“I’m here.” You snap; why do you feel this enraged? You must have done so when you first saw Charles with his mistress; that had become such a common occurrence that the fire in your stomach must have eventually drained. “And clearly, you’re busy with the woman climbing all over you.”

“Fuck- you left me hanging!” He retorts, drunken mind clearly pressing against any form of sober thought. “You went back to your husband. Left me with nothing. Fuck the funeral.” He snaps, clearly now becoming enraged with the entire situation, with the fact he had been caught out. The words pressed through the speaker of your phone and emitted a wave of sobs from your stomach, immediately pressing the red button on your device.

Carlos Sainz wasn’t in love with you. He just liked the distraction.

Of course, as fate would have it, the moment that your tears began again was the moment Charles had left the bathroom. He’s dressed in just a pair of boxers, chest bare and tone after his warm shower. The sound of the door opening caused you to turn to the source. His eyes widen, scampering towards you, cradling you in his arms, bare chest against your cheek. Silently, you sob into his body for the third time that day, wanting nothing more than for every form of pain to stop.

“Hey, come on.” He whispers, arms circling your body, pulling you tight against him. He thinks that seeing you cry will get easier each time, that the pain in the pit of his stomach won’t continue to eat him away. However, it never gets easier; he hates seeing you cry, every single time. “It’s been a long day, yeah? Let’s get some sleep, baby.”

The nickname sounds foreign on his tongue, though neither of you question it. If anything it causes more emotion to flicker through your body, the fact that your estranged husband was finally beginning to give you. Silently, he guides the two of you into the large bed, cradling you to his chest as he had done whilst in Qatar. Sleep and emotion overtake you, pressing a soft kiss to his shoulder as a ‘thank you,’ before drifting into a state of slumber.

The sleep means you miss a vital update from the Twitter threads you had been closely following earlier.

‘Carlos Sainz leaves exclusive club ALONE, despite dating rumors arising with mystery blonde.’

Carlos Sainz is your best friend.

You returned to the following day; the entire time remaining at your father’s house had consisted of nothing but tears. You had been especially concerned for your sister, watching the way she had clinged to Charles when the duo was saying their fond farewells. After a tight hug from each family member, your husband hand interlinked your fingers together, guiding the two of you to his own car, each free hand carrying along the suitcases.

The first hour of the drive home had been quiet, the buzzing streets had morphed into greenery, the sun beginning to set across the coast. Your eyelids couldn’t find it to grow heavy, having done nothing but sob and sleep for the past twenty-four hours. Instead, your focus turned to the radio, a familiar song trickling out of the speaker, one you hadn’t heard in almost eighteen months.

“Is this…” You ask, fingers reaching towards the dial, turning the volume up slightly. Behind his sunglasses, Charles grins. You hadn’t expected him to recognise the song, let alone be aware of where he recognised it from.

“Our first dance.” Your husband laughs, both nodding your head to the music. One hand on the wheel, he reached out his other hand to grasp yours on his own, a gentle squeeze passing through each hand. “We’ll have to dance to it again, properly next time.” He promises to himself, eyes focused on the road as he continues to drive you both home.

It’s almost dark by the time you have arrived back at your driveway. The stones are dipped in the darkness, the only illumination being from the headlights of Charles’ iconic vehicle. Your eyes flicker towards the doorstep, convinced the sleep is playing tricks on your mind; why on earth was there a figure standing on the doorstep to your house? They were slim, feminine, holding a cream envelope in one hand, a designer bag resting atop the other.

The familiar feeling of who she was began to nestle in your stomach. Surely, it couldn’t have been her; even your husband would not have the audacity to invite her to the house, right after you had returned home from what was quite possibly the saddest moment of your life. It couldn’t be her, even if every sign pointed towards the truth, you’d begin to search for the tiniest detail; her hair was too short. Your stomach snaps when you realize it’s the identical haircut from the Paddock mere days ago.

“What on earth-“ You hear your husband begin to speak, turning off the engine to the car. He looks over to your figure, but you show no emotion, no reaction on the exterior. Immediately, he has stepped out of the car, violently slamming the door behind him, causing you to snap out of the trance the woman had placed you upon.

Your eyes fixed upon Charles, his mistress trying to reach out into his touch. She’d pressed the envelope into his hand, continuing to speak. The words were clear through the thin glass of the car’s windscreen, divorce, pictures, evidence.

You couldn’t stick around to watch this activity play out. Immediately, you reach out for your phone, breathing uneven as you scroll through the contact list, searching for his name. Despite the last twenty-four hours, you were not too sure who else to call. It takes less than a moment for him to answer, your words rambling and falling over one another, pleading for him to come and collect you. He speaks firmly, commanding you to stay in the car, he would be there as soon as possible.

Charles is so deep in conversation, pleading for his mistress to reconsider, that he doesn’t see you slip out of the car, stepping down the driveway into the awaiting car of Carlos Sainz. He makes no intention to show you affection when first stepping into the vehicle, his only intention to get you out of the situation as soon as possible. Whilst silence filled the space between you both, you had sent a text to your husband, confirming your disappearance.

23:01: You

I’m so sorry, I can’t be there when she is, not anymore. I’ll be back at the house tomorrow. Thank you for everything.

There’s no response. If you’re completely honest, you were not expecting anything else, not whilst he was engrossed in conversation. The street is quiet as you pull into Carlos’ driveway. Saying nothing, the man simply removes his keys from the ignition, before leaning over your frame to open your door, ever the gentleman. Of course, his eyes catch yours as he leans back, creating a deep gaze for oh-so-long. Carefully slipping out of his gaze, you leave the car, walking up the steps to his apartment, the door opening for your arrival.

It's homely. Clearly lived in. Shoes are thrown across the entrance mat, coats hanging in the rack. Although it is primarily basic, a little bare, there’s touches around the complex which warm your heart; a photograph of the man with his sisters and father, a helmet you immediately recognise as Lando Norris’ resting atop of a bookshelf. There’s fine wine glasses resting atop of his coffee table; clearly ready for their usage before your untimely call.

The details become irrelevant the moment you feel his warm arms circle around your middle; the rising of your hoodie lets his body heat radiate onto yours. Carlos doesn’t need to say anything, his face comes towards the joint between your neck and your shoulder, using his nose to brush your hair away, exposing the skin he craves to mark.

“Mariposa.” He whispers, hiding his expression in your soft skin. “I can explain her, I can explain who she is, I didn’t-“

This time, it’s you who rolls around in Carlos’ touch, your arms entwining around his neck, pulling his lips to touch yours. The Spaniard does not need convincing, his grip on your waist immediately tightening, pushing your bodies closer together, if that was even humanly possible. This time, when his lips begin to trail down your neck, there’s no hesitation left in your mind, letting the man dance across your skin, leaving small bites, trails of his tongue against you.

You realize it’s you, making a small whine as he pulls away from your body, catching his breath whilst his tanned arms reach to the bottom of his shirt, exposing his chest once more. This time, your fingers fumble to find the hem of your hoodie, pulling the clothing atop of your head, exposing the laciest bra Carlos had ever seen. There’s a grunt from the back of his mouth as he darts forward, one rough palm scooping your breast from the lingerie, his mouth immediately finding your nipple, tongue tracing across the sensitive skin whilst his stubble rubs against your exposed flesh.

He doesn’t let up, not even when your legs go weak. His mouth remains firmly attached, using his arms to instead scoop you into his grasp, your whining sheer pornography to his ears whilst he carries you into his bedroom.

He will simply ruin you for every other person, and god forbid if he lost you now.

You realize hours later, somewhere between your post-orgasm haze and the combined warmth of Carlos’ hoodie and his firm arms that best friends did not have intense, body-numbing sex in the middle of the night, specifically when one of them was married, the other one a close friend of her husband. Yet, it somehow feels normal, as if this had been the longest impending explosion. Of course, you had explained to the man the reasoning for calling him out so late, for him to simply hush you, promising you would have never been a burden to him. The further questions of what is to come next are pushed to the back of your mind.

Your sleeping state misses two key moments. The first? The slight camera shutter from a phone as Carlos places his device back on the nightstand, snuggling down into the blankets, his dream to hold you whilst he slept finally arising.

The second? Your phone finally buzzed with a response from your husband, unable to sleep without knowing you were in the large house alongside him.

02:51: Charles Leclerc

I’m in love with you.

This is everyone who asked to be tagged! @Mac-daddy-210 @aundercover @barnestatic @omgsuperstarg @chimchimjiminie16 @caelum-the-part-time-nihilist @magicalcowboyarbiter @gaslasysblog @junetto @beatrizmel-472 @motorsp0rt @crowdthena @screemqueen @lewislvr @styles-sunflower @itspaddockprincess @adeptustemptations @amalialeclerc @meetmyblondemuffins @formulanando @lorarri @christianpulisic10 @gaypoetsblog @thisbitxhs-blog @goldsainz @ru-kru @magical-spit @hrlzy @nooshytushie @gaslysainz @marvel-at-stucky @sugarvibez

#juliana's fic rec #my fave fanfic #cl16 fic #cs55 fic #my fanfic commentary #I'M CRYING THIS IS SO GOOD

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tyl3rsinclair · 9 months ago

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You ever have something you wish you could go back and change. It gets frustrating, you can’t change it. she was a teenager, she was stupid. Her whole life changed after just one night. She was at a party; partying is a big thing for teenagers. Most crimes happen then. She was drunk, so was him. The next morning was normal for him, he just went around his life, not worrying or having a care for anything. He barely remembered it and they weren’t together yet. 9 months go by and boom, the first was born. She was on her own, she lived with her parents. They didn’t have a big house, one floor, 2 beds. Her parents were not in the slightly bit happy. She had high school and now she has a kid? How would she have a normal life after this. You can’t fix it; you can’t fix having this child. You're a dumb kid. You can’t change it; people can forgive her for that. But not for most of the things she decides to do in her life. The first born was a pretty baby, had a round head. Big hazel eyes. She really looked like both her parents, that’s how she figured out who the dad was. The sweet first born was 8 months old when she was in her mother's arms, confused and the new, confusing place. The baby was slightly jumped by the mother pounding the door, she was welcomed with a familiar face. “This is your baby” Were the first words said. You could hear the movement behind him, the others that were there. It wasn’t his house; it was a family member. “How do you know? -” His friend retorted standing up looking at the smaller girl. He didn’t think twice though, he knew it was his child. He took the child from her arms and looked at the sweet baby. His friend was in shocked. A girl once from over a year ago shows up at his family members door saying it’s his child with no proof. But he was a nice man, even if it wasn’t his child he would still look after the baby girl. A few weeks down the line, both parents were sleeping in that same family members house. But the mother was showing no care for the baby. A few months down the line, again she gets pregnant. Dumb mistake again but we all make dumb choices, don’t we? She disappears from him again for months staying at her mothers again. Before then the second and last baby from him was born. Quiet baby, a week after the baby was born, she and him got an apartment together alongside the friend that was in disagreement about the whole thing. But still he loved his friend, he would do anything to help him, and he returned it helping. 2 weeks down the line and there was another loud fight, most of the fights the friend could hear was the female's voice. The male although deaf in the ear was very quiet. The women had always been loud and rude, she never realised anything she done was wrong, she always believed she was right. You would never ever hear her say that she’s wrong. The next half an hour was loud, the friend didn’t want to get involved his friend didn’t want him in danger. The police were called. For what? Because he didn’t agree with her. “He was yelling at me, threatening to beat me!” That never happened, he was out on bail. He wasn’t allowed to go near there. The friend was still living there. One day the second born baby puked, normal baby. She picked the baby up and shock the little one still leaving some puke on him. And put him back. That was one of the many things she done that showed she didn’t care she never had. The friend, disgusted by her actions pick up the baby and properly changed her. A few other months later, the dad was back, and they were moving and the friend came up to his friend “So should I come in the car with you guys I think my stuffs back already” The friend said, he had no were else right now to go the dad was confused, not understanding what his friend meant. “She said you weren’t staying and that you found a place” The friend was even more confused. He was taking the rest of the boxes of stuff there.

Sorry i couldn't post the whole thing i'll link the second part

Second part

#parents #daddy issues #lgbtw #lgbtq #scotland #writer #story #short story #spotify #heartstopper #sketch #my stuff

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troyhanning-holmesglen · 2 years ago

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9. Quarter Times article: Passion is everything

Follow your passion and you never work a day in your life…

That was my thinking heading into the Sports Media world. Combine that with a ‘anything school-related is the death of me’ mentality, and you get a green faced 18 year-old signing a hex debt bigger than he can even imagine. Three years later, or to be more accurate to my experience, seven internships later, and that same 18 year-old would go on to write articles with over tens of millions of views, help build a company to up to 30,000 subscribers, hire up to a dozen interns for work, and still never once manage to get past 70% on a paper.

Three years later, I’m less baby faced now but more hardworking than ever… just not in Sports Media.

I completed my third year internship at Rainmaker, one of the most advisable suggestions I could ever give to a soon-to-be graduate. Rainmaker was not one, but the most creative- friendly, tutelage-providing, opportunity-handing places a undergraduate could dream to work in. They possessed a culture of top tier work performance while prioritising the teaching of eager freshmen.

That extended from graphic designs, social media coverage, networking clients, operating the variable control panels for a show, choice of televised segments and much more. If people want to learn while also creating meaningful work that excelerates their experience - and CV - then Rainmaker is the perfect place.

But sports media is not for everyone, and after thousands of non-bilable hours purely for fun, I know now that it is not for me either. For anyone reading this who is in love with sports media, like I once was, please don’t expect that you will have the same crashed realisations that I did because everyone is different. I faded out because I lost the passion despite success. If you have the passion but are struggling to find the success - remain confident that if you are following a plan consistently and are always saying ‘yes’, it does come. But also understand that if you want to be ‘the face’, like I believe many people secretly do when they enter this field, know that you have to sacrifice a lot and that no one will hand you anything.

But if you're like most people who get excited about being a meaningful contributor to the creation of a show, program, channel, network, or whatever the industry manifests in the coming decades, then this course and these lectures will provide that path to you better than any university, youtube channel, book or friend can. Unfortunately for me, the latter never appealed to me. And the previously established plan drained me of passion… turning a dream into frivolous work.

I’d like to shout out to all my classmates, I’m rooting for all of you over the next couple decades. And a gigantic thank you to all my lecturers, who put up with all my nonsensical emails from beginning to end but always gave me a chance to make up for my innocent mistakes.

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spaghettificationandpretzels · 3 years ago

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The Reaper and the Death Angel Part 20

Part 19

Series Masterlist

Contains: Fluff. Forensics and discussion of cold cases involving children. Smut (oral sex M receiving, body worship, complements fingering, CONSENT, mild dom Jax, mild sub reader, begging, aftercare.) Loosely follows the plot of season 1 episode 9.

6.1K Words

Comment if you want to be tagged

The beginning.

"I'm plan to get on my knees and suck your dick tonight, the smoothy will make it a bit more pleasant for me." His eyes went wide and he took a gulp from the glass, "this is really good."

You nodded, and he licked his lower lip. You straddled him, kissing him deeply while his hands moved down to grip your ass. You pulled away just as he started to grind you down onto him.

"See you tonight my love."

"Hale and ATF here for you."

You pulled one glove off and walked over to the intercom, "I'm doing a post, they can wait out there until I'm done or they can leave. I'll be another half an hour."

There was a belief pause before Travis spoke again, "Agent Sthal is being pretty insistent, she said that she's more than happy to talk to Holt if you don't come out."

That wouldn't go down well.

"Send them in, tell them to come to the exam room. Thank you Travis."

A few moments later, Hale and Stahl were at the door, "Dr l/n we'd like to talk to you about a few things."

You kept your focus on the remains in front of you, "we can talk through the door or you can come in. I have a job to do that doesn't involve helping you."

"We'd like to have your full attention."

You turned to glare at her, "best I can do is let you in. These remains belong to a child, nothing you could ask me is more important than making sure this little boy gets his story told."

You walked over and buzzed them in, Hale's hand immediately going to cover his nose, "if you have a problem with the smell of rotting flesh, you shouldn't be here." He gave one last look of disgust before dropping his hand.

"What is it that you wish to discuss? I'm a busy woman and I don't have the time to wait around for you to get your stomach under control." Sthal stepped forward, hands on her hips with a condescending look on her face. You put on a new glove and went back to the exam.

"What do you know about the Sons of Anarchy?" You pressed your lips together to avoid speaking out of turn.

"They're a motorcycle club. Samuel is my Brother and Jackson is my romantic partner. I'm on friendly terms with all of them, but I'm closest with Mr Ortiz and Mr Lowman, a member of the Tacoma charter. I get along great with Gemma and the other women, you're not going to find a problem with me."

Hale looked at Sthal as if to say, "I told you so."

Sthal wasn't interested in anything you had to say, "I would really like your full attention for this, it's very important." If looks could kill, she would be dead a thousand times over.

You dropped the tool in your hands and removed both gloves walking over to the door and gesturing for them to follow you. You took them on the short walk to bone storage before storming in.

"You want my full attention? You think whatever you want is more important than all these people waiting for justice. When I'm not thinking about the bones on my table, I'm thinking about the bones in here." You walked over to one wall and pulled out three trays.

"I would like you to pick one of these remains to be identified. If you can do that, we can go to my office and I'll talk to you." They were all clearly the bones of children, Hale reached out to the smallest set and you picked up the card.

"Sorry, not that one. The police mishandled the evidence and I don't have the time to talk to you and fix that mistake." You realised that while Sthal deserved this treatment, Hale probably didn't. He reached out to another box, and you shook your head.

"Nope sorry, the prime suspect for this one refused to give anything away. I don't have the time to collect evidence and work out a deal with the DA to get this little girl's killer." Sthal crossed her arms over her chest, "are you done?"

Deep breath

"No June, I'm not done. You have nothing on the Club, coming after the women, is just low. Now get lost, or I swear to Lucifer that I will make sure the forensics community knows how little you care about the dead." It took her a while to realise the mistake she had made, that didn't stop her from trying to recover ground.

"We'll come back later when you have the time." You glared at her one last time,

"Yes, that would be best."

The rest of the post was done by the afternoon, you were sitting in your office when Holt walked in.

"I saw ATF here today, did you cause a kerfuffle?"

You shrugged, "I don't know, Hale's growing on me but that women makes me want to punch her in her smug face." Holt nodded.

"I will ensure she is dealt with at the door next time, if it has to do with Jackson and his past time, then I can't have you dealing with personal matters during work hours. She can reach you at home from now on, I will inform Travis that only Hale is to be buzzed in from now on."

"Thanks, professor."

He paused at the doorway, "no problem, Dr l/n."

Hodgins popped in just after Holt left, "DNA's back, we got the guy. The DA is on the way." He left and your head dropped to the desk in relief, another case down, another one to find.

"A Mister Winston at the door for you."

That's a pleasant surprise.

"Send him in Travis, and remind me to bring you an extra bit of cake tomorrow for all your hard work today."

Opie arrived at your door a minute later, "hello Ope. Please sit, can I get you anything to eat or drink? There's plenty of stuff around."

He sat down at your desk, "a coffee is fine, thanks." you got the coffee ready and put it down in front of him, then sat down in your own chair.

"What brings you here today?"

Opie leaned forward and rested his arms on your desk, "I just wanted to sort out dropping the kids off here so Donna and I can have the day to ourselves. Thanks for the offer by the way."

You pulled up your calendar, "I have tomorrow, both days this weekend, next Monday and all of next weekend as well."

Opie thought for a minute, "tomorrow would be great."

After a few clicks, that was done, "all fixed, you can drop them off after 9:30 in the morning, I'll get them their food for the day so you guys can just leave the house in the morning without worrying."

You looked at the expression on his face, he seemed upset, "there's more, isn't there. I'm here to listen and I promise, these walls and steal traps. Nothing you say here gets out." Opie took a deep breath.

"What are your thoughts on all of this?"

His eyes were downcast, "I think you should do what makes you and your wife happy. The Club took you from her for five years Ope, it's going to take her time to come around."

He nodded, thinking about what you said carefully, "Jax and the other guys want out of guns, I'm not going to tell you to lie to Donna and say things are going to get better overnight. But with the peace with The Mayans, there's no reason to worry her either."

He took a long sip in contemplation, "and if she doesn't want me to be involved in the Club?"

You looked at him dead in the eyes, "then you leave the Club or you figure out how to leave her while still keeping your children happy. This isn't all about you and Donna, it's about them too. They need their parents to be happy and they will grow to understand if that means you being apart."

You finished his coffee before he responded, "Jax said you would tell it to me straight. You've given me a lot to think about. Thanks for listening."

You smiled at him, "no problem Ope, and for what it's worth, I think Donna will come around with the Club."

You got up and gave him a hug before walking him out. You would talk to Jax and about Clay and Tig were handling Ope later, over the last week or two it had become clear that Tig was poisoning Clay to be even more blind to the truth than he already was.

But now wasn't the time to think about that, from work, you were going up to Stockton to see Otto and then home to get ready for tonight.

****

"Hello Otto, how's life been treating you?" you put the box of supplies in front of him and sat down at the visiting tables.

"Alright now that you're here, how's Luann doing?"

Whenever Luann hadn't visited that week, which was rare, he always asked after her, "she's going great. One of her films won award, and the studio has been nominated for a women's rights award for her treatment of the staff. If she gets it, it will mean access to a much higher end of the market."

He gave you a strange look, "do you happen to be the person who put the nomination in?"

You looked at him sideways, "you know I'm not going to answer that. She treats her staff really well, she's deserving of some recognition. I've seen some terrible things in that industry, the only way it changes is if we give more power to the people who do the right thing."

He nodded, "yeah, you're right. How's Abel going?"

You smiled, "excellent, he'll be getting out of the incubator in a few day, then he'll be home a little while after that. We're all very relieved." Otto smiled and went through the box you had brought him.

"You know this foreign food is making me very popular, I'm going to have to start some import store if you keep it up."

You giggled, "hey if French chocolate gets you all the friends you could ask for, I'm happy to provide it." He laughed, rubbing his face at the dry humour.

"A little birdy told me that you and Jax were finally together."

You shook your head, "I swear you guys are worse gossips than Marines and that's saying something. Yes, Jax and I are now together." He smiled at you and the bell rang.

"I see you same time next month?"

He nodded, "yeah, be safe and bring pictures of Abel when he comes home." With one last hug, you left.

*****

'Thanks for dinner Sammy!" Sam was already walking away, leaving you and Jax at the table.

"How was Otto?"

He leaned over and grabbed one of your hands on his, "good, he misses everyone but overall, he's doing ok."

Jax nodded, "thanks for going to see him. We try to go when we can but with everything going on we haven't had the time." You ran your thumb over his knuckles.

"You really should, the more you see him, the more he knows that people on the outside care, the easier it will be for him. And I understand if this point offends you but you can't give the cops a way in. Loneliness is an amazing weapon."

Jax thought for a minute, "I know, I'll get something going with the guys so someone is always ready for a visit."

He watched your facial expression change, "shall we head upstairs? I do have plans for the rest of the night."

Jax gave you a cocky smile, "I can't wait to see these plans."

You smiled under your eyelashes, "I'm sure you'll have fun."

****

You led Jax to the middle of the room and got a pillow off the bed, dropping it to the side.

"Can I ask you a favour? You can say no."

He nodded, "sure Darlin." You kissed his chin.

"I really want to suck your dick, but I also really just want to touch you."

He tilted his head in confusion, "you are touching me."

You barely suppressed a smile, "not like that, I want to…….. admire your architecture." he thought for less than a second before grabbing the hem of his shirt.

"Let me, please." He dropped his hands and you slid yours over his body, gripping the edge before Jax helped you pull it over his head.

The expression on your face made the blood run to Jax's dick, it reminded him of the same look you gave him when you first met but this was laced with so much desire. You leaned in, brushing your fingertips over his skin, he could feel you regarding him like he was some kind of prize artwork.

"You're so warm, your skin feels like a blanket warmed by the sun in summer." Jax felt his face get hot, it's not like he wasn't used to women worshipping him but this was different. You were running your fingers over his every ridge and angle, pausing to press a kiss on specific points.

You brushed your thumb and then your lips over a scar on his side, "how did you get this one?"

He smiled down at you, "feel out of a tree when I was a teenager." You kissed it again before moving onto another area of his chest.

Jax felt painfully hard and it was clear you hadn't even begun yet, not that he had any plans on stopping you. You moved to his arms next, touching the tips of your fingers to the dome of his shoulder.

"You have such nice arms, can I confess something?"

He smiled, "sure Darlin." You pressed your nose to his skin then nipped it gently.

"You are very very biteable. I don't know whether it's the build up of frustration and desire or the fact that you're so attractive that it makes me angry but I can barely contain myself."

He raised his eyebrows at you, "is that so?"

You shook your head, "you're insufferable Teller." You moved to the other arm and then his back, caressing then kissing his shoulder blades, then his tattoo and finally, up his spine.

You ran a hand along his pants, "can I?" He moved his hands to help and you knocked them away, removing his sweatpants but not his boxers before moving the pillow and kneeling on it.

Looking down at you while you pressed kisses to his legs made him feel like this was an act of worship, and yet, he felt like he should prostrate himself at your feet, rip open his chest cavity and hand you his heart for you to do with it whatever you wish.

Mercifully, you finally touched your fingers to the elastic of his boxers and he nodded, you pulled them down and his cock sprang against his stomach. You put one hand on his hip and the other hand around the base of his dick.

"If I pinch you, it means stop. If I tap, it means slow down. Other than that you can enjoy yourself. You'll have to give me some direction because I want to make sure you are having fun, ok? If you're going to cum, just tap my cheek."

Jax put a hand on your head and used the other hand to stroke your face, "just do whatever you want, I'll tell you if I don't like something."

You started small, kissing the head while your hand moved up and down the shaft. As you took the head in your mouth Jax groaned and you went a little deeper, "yeah that's good."

You pulled away, shooting him a sly grin when he looked down at you. You turned your head to the side, licking him from base to tip and back again before going back to sucking the first third of him into your mouth.

"Fuck, just like that." You did as he asked, taking a deep breath before going a little deeper. As the hand on your head became more insistent, your movements became quicker. Jax was now moving your head back and forth in earnest, moaning and grunting with each movement.

"You're ready good at that. Holy shit, I can't belive I waited so long to make you my old lady." You laughed and the vibrations made his knees shake. He felt you pinch his hip before you pulled off him.

"Can I touch myself?" His breath caught in his throat, he started to go over the parts of a bike engine in his head in hopes of not cumming like a teenager.

"You're going to kill me y/n."

You laughed again, "that didn't answer my question Jackson, can I touch myself while I suck your dick?"

He groaned again, and moved back slightly so he would have a better view of your whole body, "please Darlin, although I can't promise how long I'll last with that vision." You smiled at him and he watched one hand move down your body while the mouth went back to work.

He tried, he really did but all it took was the shake of one of your moans and he was lightly tapping your cheek. He was expecting you to pull back but you pulled him deeper into your mouth and one of your hands drifted to lift his balls towards his body.

The orgasm nearly threw him off his feet, desperately grabbing for anything as one of your hands braced against his hip. The gentle push of your small hand against him helped him stand on unsteady legs and then you were kissing back up his body.

"Thank you Jackson, I really enjoyed that." He stood there stunned, you enjoyed it, you were thanking him.

"Is your phone off?"

You tilted your head at him on confusion, "it's never off, why?" he put one hand on your upper arm and the other around your waist and pulled you to him.

"Because you're not leaving this bedroom until I'm done with you. I don't care what's going on." You stood on tippytoes, brushing your lips against his.

"And what you planing on doing? There won't be any begging from me it that's wht you're after." He shook his head with an arrogant smile on his face, his hand drifting down your body to your centre.

You try to suppress a moan as his fingers glance over you, "really, because I beg to differ with how wet you are already." You attempted to glare at him but it only came across as desperate.

"Balls in your court Teller."

The hand still on your upper arm softened and he shifted it to your face, leaning down to kiss you. He pulled away, kissing a path over your cheek to your ear, "show me what you like." You raced to put your hand over his, fumbling for a moment to lay your fingers over his.

Jax's hand was mostly limp, accepting your guidance with ease. As he got more confident, you pressed less and less and finally, you moved your hand to grip his forearm.

"That feel good?" You nodded, flopping against his body as his fingers moved on you. Jax felt like a king, all that talk and you weren't able to hold up your own weight as he touched you.

Jax chuckled, moving to whisper in your ear, "if you don't think I'm going to pay back your appreciation of my architecture, as you put it, you're wrong. I'm just going to wait until you least expect it."

Your head fell back against his chest, "I'm immune to your charms Mr Teller." his fingers sped up and any other words caught in your throat.

"Bed?"

You kissed the side of his face, "please." there was a quick shift and your knees hit the edge. You sat down, grabbing Jax's arms to pull him down as you laid back. Once you were both positioned comfortably, his fingers returned to your slit.

"Oh fuck, keep going please."

He smiled and his voice took on such a cockiness, "that sounds a lot like begging." You sat up a little, latching onto his shoulder with your teeth before kiss your way up to kiss his face.

"That's not begging, that was a simple req……." you couldn't finish the rest of your sentence because two of his fingers were sliding inside you.

"Sure Darlin, you can say that all you like but we both know the truth. You'll be begging soon enough." You tilted your head, sucking on the point where his neck met his shoulder.

He crocked his fingers, looking for the rough spot inside you. He observed your reactions carefully, watching each grasp and moan. He would slow as you got close, focusing more on kissing any skin available to his lips.

"Come on y/n, don't make this hard on yourself. All you have to do is ask and I'll give you what you want."

He felt your teeth glance over his collarbone, "fuck off you insufferable man, you won't be winning this one." he smiled down at you, pushing himself up on his elbow so he was leaning over you.

"I promise I'll make it worth your while. It must be getting hard to hold out, I can feel you shaking." His condescending tone was undermined by the way he started to kiss you, soft and full of love.

"Please Jax, I'll do whatever you want. Please."

He pulled back, running his free hand over your face, "see, was that so hard?" his hand moved from your face to his hard cock, stroking it in time with his fingers.

"Jax I'm close."

He bit his lower lip, nodding slightly, "me too." He rubbed his thumb on your clit just a little harder and that was it, you exploded over his hand. You were vaguely aware of Jax groaning, his fingers stuttering inside you just a bit. He kept touching you as you came down, until finally pulling out when you got too sensitive.

"That was fanfuckingtasic, thank you."

Jax groaned again, "if you want to leave this room, you have to stop thanking me after doing stuff together. It's making it very hard to think about anything else when you take that sweet tone."

You giggled, pecking him then biting his lower lip, "I'm a very appreciative person, Beloved, you're going to have to get used to it." he smiled at you, soft and warm.

"You stay here, I'll clean us up."

Jax got up and you took the time to admire him, "you have a very nice derriere. Jax stopped his journey to the bathroom to laugh.

"Derriere. What is this, the 1890s?" He kept walking, laughing softly as he cleaned himself with one cloth and brought another warm, damp one to clean you before getting back up and putting the used fabric in the hamper.

He climbed into bed, pulling you to him so your head was against his chest. You both laid there for a while, Jax stroking your hair gently.

"You're going to be there tomorrow with me when they take Abel out, right?"

You tilted your head to look up at him, "of course, Holt gave me the whole day off." Jax smiled softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

His burner beeped and checked the text before tossing his phone back down, "is everything ok?"

He nodded, "yeah, Clay and Tig just went in to meet with the Irish." One of his fingers started to trace your cheekbone, his fingertip gracing over the highest point.

"You know it's only early, right? They will out before ten at this rate and then you can relax, until then, do you want to watch some TV?" Jax nodded, reaching over to grab the remote.

"You can choose this time, I'm sure there's something you'll find interesting."

Jax smiled, flipping through the channels and recorded shows, "oooooo, the history of stolen art. That sounds fun." You shrugged at him and he put it on, putting the remote down, he placed the hand across your body and rested it on your hip.

"You good?"

You giggled a little, pushing up to kiss him gently, "I'm great, you?"

Jax pressed his lips together, leaning down to whisper in your air, "never been better, but you know what's going to beat this? The show you're going to put on for me because I won our bet." You giggled, pressing a kiss to his shoulder.

"Well then Jackson, you better get to planing."

He chuckled softly, "I meant what I said, I regret not telling you how I felt sooner." You thought for a moment before replying.

"I knew you had feelings for me, so it's on both of us." Jax looked at with an unreadable expression.

"I knew you had feelings for me too." There was a pause before you both broke out into full-blown laughter.

"The day that Hap got shot, he called me off his face on pain meds to tell me that you were always talking about me and that when I walked in, in that dress, you reverted back to twelve and said I was the prettiest girl you had ever seen." Jax went red.

"Well Hap must have called me after you because he said you got all weird every time someone asked you how you felt about me, and he was totally convinced you loved me." You buried your face in his chest.

"Bobby blabbed too, and Billy was very insistent that you were totally into me."

Jax smiled, latching his hand in yours, "I'm not surprised, he called me yesterday and made it clear that if I ever hurt you I'd be getting shot."

You laughed softly, "I'll have to pull him up on that, he can't behave like that."

Jax chuckled, pulling your hand to his mouth to kiss your palm, "it's ok, he seemed pretty happy about the whole thing. I've been invited to your next get together."

You looked at Jax with mock fear, "oh shit, that's not good. Marines gossip worse than school girls. You'll be answering questions for hours. I'll have to find a photo and point everyone out so you go in prepared."

You were going to expain more when Jax's phone rung, he picked it up and looked at the ID before tossing it back down.

"It's Clay, if it's important, he'll call back." Sure enough, Jax got another call a minute later. After listening to Clay, he shot out of bed, looking for clothes to throw on. He hung up, getting your own clothes from a drawer, "one the Irish has been shot by the Nords, get your kit."

****

When you got to the Clubhouse Juice and Chibs were leaning over a bleeding man, you put the kit down and surveyed the scene, "what have we got?

Chibs spoke up, "the slug hit an artery, Juice is stopping the bleeding but this is outside my area of expertise." you got supplies out of the kit, handing some things to Chibs and putting an ungloved hand on Juice's shoulder.

"You're the only reason he'll alive right now because your finger is tamponading the bleeding." You waved Gemma over.

"You need to give him these, being shot in the area will give him an infection so we need to try and stop that. He needs to take two now and then two every four hours, he has to finish the bottle or the infection will come back with a vengeance."

Gemma shook him awake, "the doctor's here to fix your up, she's Jax's old lady. You're in good hands."

Camron lifted his head slightly, "are you Irish doc?

You shook your head, "nope, but I've seen and treated more gunshots than you've had hot meals, so you'll be ok." You stuck him with the painkiller cocktail and he passed out.

You went back over to Juice, pouring iodine solution over Hayes' injuries. "On three, you're going to pull your finger out and I'm going to close the artery with this clamp." He nodded and you started counting, on three, Juice pulled away and you slipped in to clamp the bleeding wound.

"Great work Juice, you saved his life." Juice smiled at you and left to clean up. Over the next hour, you walked Chibs through what you were doing, with him eventually taking over while you instructed.

After it was done and Hayes was being taken to the cabin, Jax came over to speak to you, "what do you think?"

You thought for a moment, "it's hard to say, it's a pretty bad area to get shot in. If the antibiotics keep the infection at bay, he should be fine but they aren't always foolproof and I don't have access to the cocktails that hospitals do."

He nodded, "and everyone else?"

You took a deep breath, looking around to his if anyone was in earshot, "Chibs is fine, he'll be able to deal with similar problems from now on. Maybe give Juice an extra thank you or two, I don't think he's doing too well with all the mess." Jax nodded, leaning down to kiss you.

"You should head back home, I'll be dealing with this for the rest of the night. Or, you can stay here tonight, just in case you're needed again."

You kissed him back, pulling away as Clay approached, "good idea My Love. I think I'm going to have another shower, my go-bag is in my car." Just before Clay pulled Jax aside, you kissed him one last time and went to start getting ready to settle in for the night.

It was around four in the morning when you heard Jax come in, after a very brief shower, he flopped on the bed, mumbling about telling you the whole story in the morning and then he was asleep.

****

"KNOCK KNOCK"

"Jax, y/n ATF are here to talk to you." You lifted your head off the pillow, Jax was wrapped around your body, rubbing his eyes with his hand.

'We'll be out in a minute, tell them to wait." You dropped your head back down, "well there goes our morning plans, I'll call the hospital and tell them we'll be there for Abel later in the day.

After little fanfare, you dressed and went out to the picnic tables to talk to Agent Sthal and her partner.

"I know you're a busy woman, but we won't take much of your time." Everyone was standing around watching, "where were you last night between 8pm and 12am?" You glared at her.

"With my boyfriend, is there a reason you're asking about my whereabouts?"

She huffed, "there were reports of a shooting in the vicinity of one of the Club's hangout, we were wondering if you knew anything about it."

You rolled your eyes, "why would I know anything about that, and if I did, why the fuck I would I even be talking to you? Can you please stop wasting my taxes and go and do something worthwhile." She crossed her arms over her chest.

"I would have thought this was the last place you would be, I'm surprised you haven't asked Jackson to leave the Club, considering everything they're involved in."

You shot up, looking directly in her eyes so she could see how angry you were, "how dare you say something so offensive and hurtful. I love Jackson entirely for all that he is, including the Club. I would never ever try and change something so fundamental to the way he is. The fact that you even thought to mention it shows you know nothing about me or anyone else here. Now leave me the fuck alone before I bring you up on harassment, you have no reason to keep questioning me."

Everyone was taken aback, Jackson went from looking shocked to boastful and Gemma was standing off to the side with a knowing look on her face.

Sthal for her part, wasn't happy about being embarrassed. You preemptively got a card out of your wallet and slid it towards her.

"After that statement, you and any of your ATF colleges can go through my lawyer. Now, unless you want me to file a complaint, you are going to apologise for saying such a terrible thing." She was practically snarling at you.

"I'm sorry for offending you, I just thought you'd hold yourself to a higher standard." When she saw the look on your face, she realised her mistake.

"You should be hearing from your superiors in the next few hours. I'm going to call the ATF director on my way to see Jax's son right now. I hope you're happy about the damage you just did to your career.

She and her partner walked away and once they were off the compound, the crowd erupted, "that was fucking beautiful Lass, you're a lucky man Jackie Boy."

Jax shook his head, leaning in to kiss you hard on the lips.

"Yeah, I am."

You kissed him back, grabbing his head in your hands, "let's go see Abel and then you can thank me for dealing with the pigs with such grace." Everyone laughed and you were off.

****

"You ready?"

Jax's smile lit up the whole room, "I've held him before but this just feels different."

You slid to the edge of your chair, "because this is the first time you've been able to just hold him. Before this, you had to worry about something going wrong."

Jax nodded softly, "yeah, it's nice just to be able to hold him." The doctor came out with Abel wrapped in the blanket, gently passing him to Jax.

Jax was lost for words, he looked over at you and the expression on your face. There was a voice in his head screaming at him not to fuck this up.

"I hate to break it to you, but I'm your old man." You leaned in, putting a hand on his leg.

Jax tilted his head towards you, "and that very pretty lady over there is your mum." Jax knew it from the moment he saw you holding Abel the first time that it was true, all your statements about what kind of parent he needed to be only reinforced that.

"You really mean that? I mean, that's what you want?" He could hear the cautious hope in your voice.

Jax handed Abel to you, "without a doubt."

You sat, looking down at his sweet little face and couldn't find it in yourself to protest, "Sam will be happy to hear that, he's always talked about being the coolest uncle in the world."

After sitting with Abel for a little while and a quick talk with his doctors about transitioning him to home over the next two days you and Jax left with plans to see how the renovations to his house were going.

*****

The house was mostly done, and a quick walkthrough left you sitting at the kitchen table. Jax had become more distant as the day went on, his thoughts seemingly drifting elsewhere.

"What's wrong my love?"

He took a deep breath before replying, "Do you know Brenan Hefner?" He watched your facial expression change.

"That stupid fuck? I wish I didn't, he's as dirty as it comes. A shipping container with three bodies showed up at the port and he stopped any investigation. I was waiting at the port for hours before one of his cronies came out and said that it was a misunderstanding and nothing was wrong." Jax put his head in his hands.

"Hayes asked us to take him out, do you know if he's mobbed up?"

You nodded your head, "he's not made but he's got friends. But not many, so it won't be an issue. Will Happy be the one to do it?"

Jax shrugged, "I have no idea. But I hope so, I'm worried that Clay's going to tap Opie to do it."

You rubbed your head, "If he does, he does. All you can do is be there for Ope. I'll give you my thoughts after I see them tomorrow." Jax reached his hand across the table to grab yours.

"I don't know what I'd do without you."

You gave a quick laugh, "crash and burn?" Jax returned your laugh.

"Yep."

Part 21

I would really really appreciate feedback on the smut, it's the first time I've written it for this character and the first time I've written anything super explicit in a modern setting.

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tarosin · 3 years ago

Text

The great adventures of y/n tommy tubbo and ranboo - the best mcc team

this is an extra to the great adventures series

the moment you found out ranboo got into mcc you instantly ran into the room you were sharing pulling him into a hug you were honestly so proud of him and he was going to be with tubbo

“BOO I'M SO PROUD OF YOU YOU'RE GOING TO DO AMAZING”

unfortunately, you weren’t going to be in mcc this month but that didn’t stop you from being over the moon for your friend. when it was finally time for mcc you wished your friend good luck and apologised for not being able to watch his pov as you weren’t about to break the tradition of watching Tommy after all he was your first and biggest supporter. 3 hours later the event ended and everyone who was watching ranboos pov heard you faintly screaming at Tommy over discord whilst tubbo sat laughing and ranboo was concerned, he heard from Tommy that you would often yell at him however he didn’t believe that he was being honest

“FUCK YOU TOMMY STOP LAUGHING YOU HIT ME IN TO GET TO THE OTHER SIDE ON PURPOSE THEN LAUGHED ABOUT ME NOT BEING IN…..fine when I get in I’m requesting to be on Scott's team…I’m still mad at you but you did great I'm so proud of you congrats Tommy I’ll see you soon goodbye”

at the start of the next month, you received a message from Scott

Scott: so I have a few things to tell you 1 - how would you feel about becoming head twitch mod it’s only fair you’ve been my mod for a while and 2 - welcome to mcc make sure to fill in the form asap!

y/n: 1 - of course I’d love to be head twitch mod and 2 - heh??

not long later you received a form at the same time as your friends, you decided not to tell anyone and somehow you managed to keep it a secret, Scott agreed to lie to the others about whos team they’re on as he knew how excited everyone was going to be. today was the day your big secret would be released, you Tommy tubbo and ranboo were sat outside when the notification went out announcing the team honestly you’ll never forget the look on their faces when they realised

MCChampionship_ tweeted: 👑announcing team green guardians 👑

@tommyinnit @tubbolive @ranboosaysstuff @y/n

Watch them in MCC on Saturday, August 28th at 8 pm BST!

“Y/N WHAT THE FUCK”

“congrats y/n”

ranboo didn’t say anything he just tackled you into a hug like you did last month when you found he was in mcc. Tommy and tubbo were still processing what they just read

“Scott fucking lied to me”

“aye I told him to”

“what the fuck”

from then the four of you would constantly stream with each other on the mcc training server, you were a strong team when you weren’t yelling at each other.

time flew by soon enough it was the 28th of August. Tommy genuinely couldn’t believe it his best friend was in mcc and on a team with him and he genuinely believed you all had a decent chance in winning as you were a strong team. Tommy invited you over to stream mcc he claimed it was because there would be three people trying to stream in the same room, in reality, it was because he wanted to see your reaction and be there for your first mcc.

Tommy let you stream from his room he had spent the previous night getting advice from tubbo on how he managed to set up so he could stream with ranboo in the same room.

“you ready y/n”

“of course I’ve been watching and learning from the best”

you and Tommy set up and joined the discord call and the mcc server, it was finally time. similarly to ranboo this was something you had wanted to do since Tommy told you all about it on your way home from school one day. 30 minutes later it was time for the games to begin and this is where the chaos began.

“you know what I hope it’s build mart”

“what the fuck y/n”

“fuck you I’m good at build mart- oh you’re joking it’s fucking parkour tag”

this is when you realised that two screaming teenagers in the same room both trying to stream the event wasn’t the best idea, you and Tommy would constantly scream at poor ranboo who was just trying to hunt the other team

“RANBOO CATCH THEM”

“really y/n?! I thought I’d let them win this round”

unsurprisingly your team was doing great you had won 7/8 rounds but there was still one more round, determined to be the one to get dream you decided to be the hunter

“y/n don’t worry if you can’t get them we’re doing well”

“Y/N IGNORE RANBOO ME AND TOMMY DON'T WANT TO LOSE”

“not putting pressure on me at all thank you boys”

being close friends with technoblade gave you an advantage you didn’t expect due to the fact he helped to “train” you for your first mcc which ended up being the reason you were able to catch them all and then helped the others avoid being caught

“tubbo he's to your left TUBBO I SAID HES TO YOUR LEFT WHY ARE YOU GOING LEFT TOMMY RUN RUN RUN RUN ranboo you’re doing great”

“NO WAY”

you had just successfully won the round against dream sapnap George and quackity and you would never let dream live this down

“do you guys think dream will let me be in one of his manhunts now”

“no”

“fuck you tubbo you’re just mad you couldn’t catch all the runners in yellow yaks. you couldn’t catch jack manifold”

so far everything was going well you were currently in 4th place and your team had high hopes. you all felt the need to confirm to your chats that you’re all not actually mad at each other and not to worry about everything.

the next game was survival games ranboo wasn’t ready for this due to the last mcc where he died pretty early on, it started well you all stuck together as a team until the game was nearly over and you got distracted by a chest and ran away from the others whilst they were fighting another team this ended up being a happy accident in disguise you got the notification that Tommy tubbo and ranboo were killed fighting another team

“oh fuck”

“WE COULD HAVE WON WAIT Y/N DID YOU DIE”

“no”

tubbo could practically hear your smile as you explained to them that you ran off and was currently under a tree watching the others fight, you used the fact they died in the game to your advantage they would tell you if anyone was coming to attack you whilst you ran around collecting loot avoiding the others shooting arrows

“AYO STOP FUCKING SHOOTING ME ITS MY FIRST MCC LET ME WIN”

“Y/N HAVE YOU GOT LAVA”

“I DO AAAAAA PISS OFF LET ME WIN”

“USE THE LAVA YOU CAN EASILY TAKE OUT HALF OF THE REMAINING PLAYERS”

to everyone’s surprise, it worked due to the border being smaller so there was less room to run soon it was you vs punz at this point you were determined to win

“GO Y/N GO GO GO HIT HIM YOU CAN DO IT”

“you’re doing so well y/n”

some may call it beginners luck but you ended up winning the fight against punz

“LETS FUCKING GO Y/N”

“I DID IT OH MY GOD”

the next game was hole in the wall and long story short you sucked, ranboo on the other hand did not. it didn’t take long for you to fall every single round. this helped the others though as you were able to yell which side the wall was coming from

“fuck this stupid game the wall hates me”

“y/n you're supposed to jump through the gaps“

“you know what no I’m going to get on a sapnap alt stream by glitching through”

this didn’t work you died again

“well fuck there I go I guess you’ve got this though guys Tommy you’re doing decent”

“I'm doing great thank you- oh I died FUCK YOU FOR DISTRACTING ME”

“blah blah blah GO TUBBO AND RANBOO”

you couldn’t believe it ranboo was one of the final people remaining, unfortunately, ranboo jumped too late resulting in him falling but nonetheless you were proud of him

“unlucky boo you all did great”

the next game was battle box the four of you had been practising this a lot so there was a lot of pressure to do well especially since you were now in the top 3 on the leaderboard, the strategies you made from practicing paid off you managed to win the majority of the rounds, however, there was a lot of screaming and arguing during the last round

“RANBOO STOP STEALING MY KILLS OR I'M GOING TO START HITTING YOU WITH A SWORD”

“he’s been stealing mine too y/n”

tubbo was honestly playing well during this game and you were amazed

unfortunately, the arguing resulted in you losing the round as you were all focusing on arguing which meant you missed the other team rushing to wool

“unlucky boys”

“7 wins out of 9 rounds honestly isn’t that bad we should still be third we just need to stay strong with the rest of the games”

during the break before the last four games, the four of you sat making plans for the next few round

“I want to get to the other side last I think that will be our strength”

there was still a rather long break left so you did what anyone else would do run around the server and yell this was a huge mistake as it messed with the soundproofing resulting in tommys mic picking you up and vice versa

“so I guess we’re streaming like this now”

“FIX IT”

“well since you asked so nicely tubso…no”

tubbo ended up doing the same to the soundproofing in the room he was in with ranboo were in meaning all four of you were now having a scuffed stream as you ran out of time to fix it because before you knew it, it was time to play sky battle

“right we should go left”

“tubbo will get iron Tommy will make the bridge and y/n will do…something”

you did the same thing techno did in the pride mcc and hid occasionally breaking blocks from underneath people so they would fall the others were doing well the game was a mixture of you all encouraging each other and you all cursing each other out whilst ranboo ignored you all and spoke to his chat

“chat I know you can hear double everyone if I could fix it I would but tubbo y/n and Tommy are being too stubborn to fix everything and we don’t have time”

“Y/N WHERE ARE YOU”

“making people fall to their death can we talk about our feelings now because this is stressful as hell”

“NOT THE TIME”

you all did decently you weren’t amazing at this game but that was expected it was something you all weren’t the biggest fan of but somehow you were all still in third place and that was something you weren’t expecting especially for your first mcc

it was now time for sands of time you all needed to do well

“bruh I wanted build mart what the fuck is this”

“we’re not going to win this game boys”

and tubbo would be corrected that that statement, you ended up having a visual glitch making it difficult, Tommy would constantly get trapped in a dungeon like last time things weren’t loading for ranboo you had no idea what tubbo was doing and quite frankly you didn’t want to find out unless it was going to be good news and considering all you could hear was tubbo yelling anything that came to mind you could guess it wasn’t going well. you tried to rage quit a couple of times only to be yelled at by the others every time you disconnected from the server

“Y/N STOP LEAVING”

“I CAN'T SEE SHIT”

“you’re doing well y/n stay calm we’re going to be fine”

“OH I CAN'T PLAY THIS GAME I'M DYSLEXIC”

“CLEARLY WE'RE NOT FINE TUBBO IS STRUGGLING TOMMY IS LOCKED IN A DUNGEON AND I CAN'T SEE SHIT...HAVE YOU GOT THE LETTER N YET”

“no, they’re spawning one in for me”

“could them maybe I don’t know speed up the process”

yeah you ended up losing that game and got knocked down the 4th good news is it was only by a couple hundred points

next up was ace race

“do yous reckon Scott's tested this map”

“aren’t you his head twitch mod”

“you’re right I'll message him and find out”

luckily you all managed to do pretty well, Tommy was off to a great start you tubbo and ranboo weren’t far behind you all agreed to follow each other rather than the crowd which paid off as when everyone else went the wrong way rather than following you all managed to go the right way thanks to ranboo yelling he thinks that he knows where to go and thankfully he was correct which put Tommy first tubbo second ranboo third and you fourth, you all ended up lapping people on your final lap and honestly, none of you guessed this would happen but you weren’t exactly complaining. a few moments later you all crossed the finishing line and were the first team to finish giving you the bonus points you needed to push you to second place

“did you know since I first got into mcc I would put y/ns name down for who I wanted to play with”

“TOMMY OH MY GODDDD”

a few seconds later you showed up on Tommy's face cam as you ran over to him giving him a hug

“you’re doing great y/n we might get into dodgebolt”

“dude we’re winning this shit”

soon enough it was time for the last game (unless you got into dodgebolt) and luckily it was to get to the other side

“we've got this we have actually got this we’re going to get to dodgebolt”

you stuck with Tommy for almost every round mainly because speed bridging wasn’t for you. you were all doing great you were the first team to finish for multiple rounds however you were also the last team to finish for a few rounds

“boys I'm not sure if we’ll get through”

“We all had fun”

“if we get into dodgebolt we’re going to be against dream”

“WILL YOU ALL FUCKING FOCUS”

“no- OW TOMMY HIT ME WITH A PEN”

“IT WAS THE CLOSEST THING WOULD YOU RATHER I CHUCK MY COMPUTER MOUSE”

“will you two quit fighting we’re about to find out the final scores.”

3..2..1

“oh my god”

“what the fuck”

“ranboo and y/n are about to play dodgebolt”

“LETS GO WHAT THE FUCK”

you all did it you successfully kept 2nd place somehow now all you had to do was win dodgebolt against dream George sapnap and quackity. safe to say you and ranboo were nervous as fuck and rightfully so as you all lost the first game

“let’s be serious we need to focus now”

you all won the next round

“LETS FUCKING GO WE'VE GOT THIS”

it was now the third round Tommy and tubbo were now out it was you and ranboo against dream and sapnap

“bruh were fucked ranboo”

ranboo took aim and somehow hit sapnap whilst you took a moment to type a message in chat

y/n: it’s my first mcc how do you feel knowing you’re about to lose

it was now your turn to take aim and Tommy yelling in the background wasn’t helping you and the yelling made you shoot before you were ready luckily ranboo picked up an arrow and was able to hit dream, it was now 1 vs 2 if you won this round you would all be the champions and that’s exactly what happened you all quit yelling at each other hell you muted the discord call so you could focus all you could hear was Tommy next to you occasionally supporting you

“come on y/n final round. you’re about to win your first mcc I’m so proud of you”

“you’re doing amazing Tommy thank you for everything now let’s win this thing”

and just like that, it was over Tommy took the final shot and hit sapnap

you all unmuted the four of you yelling

“TOMMY TUBBO RANBOO I'M SO PROUD OF YOU GUYS”

“WE DID IT WE FUCKING DID IT”

“OH MY GOD”

“WELL DONE EVERYONE”

this time Tommy ran over to you pulling you into a hug he was genuinely so proud of you and the others

“you did it y/n you won your first mcc that’s amazing”

“I couldn’t have done it without you or the others I love you all”

after talking to the other teams and ending stream

you and Tommy stayed on call with tubbo and ranboo

“you two need to make your way back here”

“me and y/n could probably catch a train if we’re very quick”

you nodded and quickly grabbed everything you needed thankfully your good luck hadn’t come to an end yet as you and Tommy were able to catch one of the last trains, Tommy had an arm around you as he noticed you were getting tired after all you did just go through the stress of your first mcc to over 170k viewers you ended up falling asleep on his shoulder a few hours passed and you were at the last stop Tommy lightly tapped your shoulder

“hey y/n were here tubbo and ranboo are waiting for us over there…let’s go celebrate this win shall we”

an: do not publish my work :)

taglist:

@emma0nline @fuzzycloudsz @wtfwriter @bearytime @milkydisaster @dumb-chaotic-bi-energy @uselesssapphickitten @l0ver0fj0y @etheriaaly @xx-smiley-xx @hawarun @kylobensgirl @cawcaw-pretty-thing @reverse-iak @renleicrashed @augustine-is-joy @c1loudee

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kireimarkeu · 4 years ago

Text

To You; l.dh

+another repost! did not make any changes to this work :) p.s this is one of my fav fics i have written :)

summary; bored in quarantine, your boyfriend decides to film himself telling you how much he loves you.

3k words

this was like… ½ edited LMFAO so there might,,, be mistakes…??? this was so tiring to make omfg, enjoy!! lol

also i mixed the name donghyuck and haechan bc i couldn’t choose one lmfao ok!!! bye gn enjoy!! :)))))))

warnings: there’s a word f*t in it

+Day 1 3:34PM

Haechan adjusted the camera, making sure he could be seen. Once he was sure the camera was reflecting him properly, he leaned back against his gaming chair.

“Um,” your boyfriend started, looking everywhere but the camera. “This is awkward,” he says, looking back at the camera.

“I started this, since we won’t be able to see each other for a month- because of quarantine,” he explains, “I honestly have no idea what I’m doing right now,” he laughs.

After a few minutes of pure silence, your boyfriend opened his mouth to continue speaking, “I just feel like— I never really show much love to you?”

There were times where your boyfriend would purposely avoid saying ‘I love you’ or avoid holding your hands whenever the both of you were outside. Honestly, you didn’t really mind, knowing Donghyuck was never the type to show affection.

“It’s hard,” he says truthfully, “The boys knows how much I love you, and it sucks that I don’t know how to show you— or tell you, that I love you.”

Haechan bit his lips nervously, “and, I think this video is- or will prove that I love you?”

He wasn’t sure if he was even making sense at this point.

Your boyfriend groaned, throwing his head back, covering his face with his hands. After a while, he looked back at the camera, “you know what, babe? Just watch the whole thing, okay?”

+Day 4 11:47PM

“Hi,” he smiles, letting out a huff, “this is kinda late, I spent the whole night playing games,” he says guiltily, playing with his fingers, looking away from the camera.

He knows that you didn’t like it when he would stay up until ungodly hours just to play games with his friends. You hated how he would put his health aside just to play games.

He brings his hands up to brush his wet hair.

“Uh,” he sighs out loud, pouting. “I feel bad for staying up late last night, so I’m going to spend the whole night with you today,” he laughs.

Another moment of silence pass.

“I don’t know what to say,” he whines.

He sat there in silence, staring at the ground, figuring out on what to say. Should he tell you about his day?

“Well, I woke up at 5PM today,” he tells you, “I ate dinner with my family— mom cooked chicken today!” he says happily, “Then, I went to call you for a bit because I missed you a little too much,” he pouts.

He scratched his head, “then I showered and now this-“ he says, pointing to the camera.

“Um, it has been 4 days and I miss you too much,” he says truthfully, “facetiming isn’t working, I think I’m going crazy,” he laughs.

+Day 5 7:38PM

He was talking halfway, talking about how much he admires you when his phone started ringing.

“Oh?” he turns around to grab his phone from his bed. A smile formed on his face when he saw you facetiming him.

He turned to the camera to show his screen, “Baby, you’re calling me,” he giggles before quickly answering to your facetime.

“Channie~” you whine cutely when your boyfriend answered your facetime, “what are you doing, hyuckie?”

Usually, your boyfriend would complain whenever you would speak in a cute voice, but he secretly likes it. He secretly likes being babied.

He looks at the camera that was recording the both of you.

“Nothing,” he lies, “why did you call me, loser?”

You huff, raising your arms so he could see you laying on the bed. “I’m bored, hyuckie~ entertain me~”

He leans back on his chair, “wanna play games with me?”

Your face beam at his words, “Okay! I’ll get my X-Box ready now.”

Your boyfriend was the one who bought for you the X-Box. Well, it was an old version, but you loved it, nonetheless. It wasn’t like you played daily— you only played with boyfriend.

“I’ll call you in 5, baby,” he tells you, already walking over to turn on the tv.

“Kay, bye-bye, love you, Hyuckie,” you say in a baby voice, bringing your phone closer to press your lips on the camera.

Donghyuck scrunched his nose in disgust, “yeah, yeah,” he says before ending the call.

He quickly grab the camera that was still recording, he moved the camera closer to press a kiss, “I love you too, y/n.”

+Day 7 3:01PM

“Do you remember when you gave me the teddy bear— Oh my gosh, I feel like a youtuber,” he cackles. He shook his head, focusing back to what he was saying.

“So, do you remember when you gave me the teddy bear?” he asks, “wait,” he says, standing up to grab the tiny teddy bear that was sitting on his bed.

You had bought him the bear during your 200th day with him. Donghyuck didn’t really give the reaction you wanted.

“Do you not like it?” you had asked him, disappointment laced in your voice. You didn’t dare look at him, upset with yourself that you had bought something that he didn’t like.

“No, no!” he quickly replied, wrapping an arm around your shoulder to pull you into his chest, the other holding the tiny bear. “I love it,” he says.

You knew it was a lie. He didn’t seem to like it.

“I love it,” he says, “I know I didn’t show like I did at that time, but I need it with me every time I go to bed.”

He scratches his head, regretting his actions that has had happened months ago.

“No one has ever bought me a bear before,” he explains, “and when you bought it for me, it just felt— I felt, I felt happy? I felt fulfilled? Do you know what I mean?”

“I really wanted to tell you that I loved your present, especially when you had bought me another present a few days later,”

‘it was to make up for the previous present’ was your reason.

It broke his heart when you said that while handing him a couple bracelet. He wanted to tell you how much he loved your gift, but it was so hard for him.

“I hated myself for not being able to tell you the truth, it’s hard—and it still is,” he sighs, “I hope by doing this, I can assure you that I love you..?”

+Day 10 9:34PM

He was in the middle of filming himself when his mother comes in.

“Donghyuck-ah, what are you doing? Do you want some fruits?” his mother asks, looking at his son, not noticing the camera perched on the dressing table.

Instead of answering his mother’s question, he grabs the camera to film his mother.

“Eomma, say hello to y/n,” Donghyuck says.

His mother raised her eyebrows in surprised, “hello my dear y/n~ how are you?”

Your boyfriend giggle from behind the camera, “tell her how much you miss her,”

“I think I miss you more than Donghyuck does,” she jokes. “What is this for, Donghyuck-ah?”

Haechan placed the camera back on the dressing table, turning to look at his mum.

“I’m making a video for y/n until quarantine is over,” he explains as his mother walks in, wrapping her arm around her son’s shoulder.

His mother’s heart warmed at his son’s words.

“You’re growing up way too fast, our Donghyuck~” she cooed, pulling your boyfriend’s cheeks as he whined in pain.

You would also pinch his cheeks almost every time the both of you are together. Whenever you had Donghyuck’s cheeks between your fingers, he would whine, pulling away from your grip.

“Eomma! I want strawberries!” he shouts after his mother left his room.

He turns his attention back to the camera, “Anyways—”

+Day 17 2:35AM

“I really like your eyes,” Haechan confesses dreamily, “your eyes are the colour of shit,” he jokes, “but they’re so shiny, baby,”

The first time he realizes he’s in love with your glimmering eyes was when he brought you out on a date to star gaze. You were staring at the sky, a smile plastered on your face, amazed at how beautiful the sky was.

When you noticed your boyfriend staring at you, you turned to face him. Your eyes captured his heart. How could someone have such bright eyes?

“Oh! And when you smile, you make my heart beat like crazy!” he chuckles.

The first thing that caught Hyuck’s eyes when he had a crush on you was your bright smile. He believes that was the main reason that he fell for you. How you would always have a beaming smile plastered on your face everywhere you go.

He thinks it’s adorable.

The small dimples that was on the side of your lips whenever you smile.

And your adorable little laugh he adores so much.

Or the little birthmark you had on the corner of your mouth.

After talking about you for a while, he let out a satisfied sigh, “I’m so whip for you, you know?”

After 17 days of making videos for you, it started becoming easier for him to show his love for you.

“Everything you do makes me go crazy, do you realise that?” he asks you, “do you realize that everything you do makes me happy? No, you don’t have to do anything, your presence makes me melt.”

He laughs at how he was flirting, “you’re probably laughing too,”

His laughter died down, letting out a tired sigh, “well, it’s late and I’m going to go to bed before you nag at me some more,”

He let out a yawn, “goodnight y/n, I love you so much, you don’t know how happy you make me,”

+Day 20 2:56PM

This time, it was different.

He was filming himself at McDonalds drive-thru.

“Guess who’s this for?” he asks the camera, his gaze on the road. “Yes, you.”

He turns to look at the camera for a second before paying attention on the road, “you didn’t ask me to get you anything but I wanted to get something for you,” he explains.

He was lying, this was just an excuse to see you, even for a second. Even if it’s 6 feet apart. Even if there was a glass between the both of you.

“I think you know the reason why I’m buying this for you,” he says, referring to the food. “To make you fat! You’re right, y/n,” he jokes.

That was also a lie. You tend to eat less whenever you’re stressed.

After he found out that you had a project, he knew how stress you would be, and decided to get food, making sure you eat healthily.

Your boyfriend would never fail to remind you how much he loves your body. No matter shape or size. He has always made sure you feel loved with who you are.

“I think you know the real reason why I’m coming over,” he adds. When he reaches a red light, he turns to look at the camera with a pout, “I can’t help it, I miss you too much, y/n,” he says in a baby voice.

He grimaces at his actions, shaking his head disapprovingly, “I am never doing that ever again.”

A few minutes later, he reached your house. He had texted you to that he was waiting for you outside.

It took you a while to come out, but when you did, you had one of his hoodies over your body.

He loves it when you wear his clothes, it makes him feel all giddy.

‘One day, I’m going to wear all of your clothes’ he would say whenever you steal his clothes.

You walked over to his car, “what the hell are you doing here, dummy,” you ask him, maintaining the distance.

He grabbed the bag of food from the passenger’s seat and passed it to you from the window of his car.

“Brought you food, you unappreciative bitch,” he tells you while you walk up to grab the food from him.

You open the bag to see your favourite food, “my favourite food, too?!” you squeal, “Haechan best boyfie~”

He rolls his eyes, “yeah, yeah, go and finish your project,”

You nodded, the smile not leaving your face.

“I’ll facetime you later?” he asks.

“At 11,” you confirmed.

He nods, signalling for you to go back in. You blow a kiss to your boyfriend before turning around to go back in.

He quickly fishes out his camera, filming you walking back in your house.

“Look at my baby all happy because I brought her food,” he says, “enjoy your food, pretty,”

+Day23 6:07PM

“Day 23,” he breathes out. “I didn’t expect it to go by so fast,” he blurts out.

He puffs his cheeks out, “I don’t want to stop making videos for you, but you would just make fun of me for being soft,”

He had started growing content on making videos for you every day.

“But at the same time, I can finally see you after a month, babe!” he says happily. “I can finally hold you in my arms, we can kiss until the world ends, we can also do it,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows.

Well, he can’t lie he did miss doing it with you.

He sighs, “anyway, when we can finally get together, we can watch movies, then come back to my place and we can cuddle!”

He missed that.

Personally, Donghyuck preferred going over to your place but you preferred going to his place because he had games and a huge bed, and it was just comfortable.

“Ahh,” he groan, “I miss you like crazy! I think I have to end this video early because I wanna facetime you right now,”

He grabs his phone on the table to call you.

“Okay, bye babe, I love you, I’m going to talk to you now!”

+Day 25 4:03AM

“Hi,” donghyuck greet the camera.

Anyone could realise he wasn’t in the best mood.

It took Donghyuck a while to start talking, “we had a fight earlier today,” he says, his voice lace with disappointment and… hurt?

You had texted him just an hour ago, ranting about your homework. When Donghyuck replied to you a minute later, you got angry at him because he was staying up again at ungodly hours.

He didn’t understand why you were so angry because you were awake at the same timing as he is.

“I’m going to give you space, because it’s what you need right now,” he says. “I hope you know I still love you no matter what,”

He bit his lip hesitantly, “I know you don’t like it when I stay up with the boys, but I don’t like you staying up to finish your work either, baby”

He closes his eyes shut for a moment, taking a deep breath. “I hope you don’t get too stressed over school, eat healthily, and make sure you rest from time to time, babygirl,”

He lets out another sigh before reaching for the camera, “I love you,”

+Day 28 7:36PM

Haechan purses his lips, staring at the camera, “today is a bad day,” he starts.

Today he had woke up a little earlier than normal after talking it out with you a few days ago. He decided to get up early and help his mom with cooking, which only resulted him in getting scolded by his mother for making a mess.

After that, he decided to play games with his friends, however despite playing for 5 hours straight, he didn’t get a single win.

Now, he has tried to contact you, but you have not replied to him. Probably busy with school.

He let out a huff, “take a break y/n,” he whines, “focus on me too~”

Letting out a pout he shakes his head, “kidding babe, get those A’s!”

“Well, now I don’t really have anything to do so I’m going to facetime you again, bye babe!”

+Day 30 10:18AM

“Hyuckie!” you call out, running to your boyfriend. When you reached him, you threw your arms around your boyfriend’s neck, making him stumble back a few steps as he grabs on your waist.

You hid your face in his neck, breathing in his scent. He smells so good.

“You’re not going to let go of me until I say so,” you mumble, tightening your grip around his neck.

He chuckles at you, “I won’t let go of you until you say so,”

Donghyuck was satisfied with having his arms wrapped around your waist, his face covered in your hair.

After a few moments of the both of you just holding each other, you finally pull away from your boyfriend.

“Y/n,” he says, making you hum.

“Wait,” you stop him, making him stare at you with wide eyes as he froze on the spot.

“Can you kiss me first?” you ask. His eyes soften at your request. Your fingers trace his bottom lips, “I miss your pretty lips.”

He smiles at your words and nodded. Pulling you closer by your waist, he pressed his lips against yours. Your hands rest on his chest while you both share a needy kiss.

After a few minutes, you pull away, breathless with crimson red cheeks.

Haechan raised his eyebrows as he resumed, “I made something for you,”

You gasped, “what is it?”

He fishes out a CD player. The CD held videos of him explaining how much he loves and appreciates you throughout the whole month.

He passes you the gift.

“Watch this at home?” he tells you.

You grab the CD from his grip, “okay? What is this all about?”

“Just promise me you’ll watch it at home?” he asks again, staring down at you.

“I will! I will!”

After making videos of himself for 29 days straight, Donghyuck have concluded that he was so utterly in love with you. He was so in love with you that he didn’t know how to express how much he adores you.

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xeulousluv · 3 years ago

Text

Almost

AN: Hello everyone, I am fairly new to posting on this app, so therefore I am still learning how to use it. Hehe :) Anyways, I hope you are having a great day!

Warning: Nothing really, maybe a little bit of angst?

Zayn and Y/n broke up and all he’s left with are the videos she took during their senior year of high school.

September 1st, 2010:

The camera was set up in her hand as she was slightly fixing her hair, a huge smile plastered on her makeup covered face. He always thought she looked better without makeup, but sometimes you couldn’t beat the insecurities.

“Here we are, the first day of senior year! How are we feeling, Zayn?”

Next to her stood himself, a much younger version of himself. Two years to be exact. He was almost unrecognizabel, with his usual high school attire adoring his body. A white tee-shirt, black skinny jeans, and not to mention his varsity football jacket hanging off of his shoulders. She looked lovingly at her boyfriend, her eyelashes beating against the softness of her rounded cheeks.

“I’m ready to get out of here, the last three years were the upmost worst years of my life.” Zayn spoke truthfully, he hadn’t expected to make it past the ninth grade, but with the help of Y/n, he managed to make it all the way to his graduating year. Y/n gave him an offended look before responding, “Hey! If it weren’t for these last three years, you would’ve never met me, let alone had the courage to talk to me. Am I really that bad?”

She laughed out while speaking, all so he knows that she is joking and would never accuse him of thinking such things. Though, he was already two steps ahead of her and was laughing along at her sad attempt of looking offended. “Of course not, baby. You are what kept me going.” With that, Zayn kissed her temple and she let out a small giggle before stopping the camera.

September 5th, 2010:

Random small talk was heard on the computer sitting in front of Zayn, before her face showed with a bright glow. She was so beautiful it almost hurt. She was laughing at something her friend Emery said, though it was completely inaudible, he just let the smile take over his face hearing her laugh again.

“I don’t exactly know why I turned this on, but hello! We successfully made it through the first week of school, and let me just say, it was not fun. The teachers still hate me.” Again, Y/n laughed towards the camera.

“I remember this one time last year when Mr. Lambert threw me out of class because I wouldn’t stop laughing. In my defence, he was talking about the safety of condoms and Zayn kept mocking him. That was a detention worth going to.” Zayn remembered that day clearly. He sat to the left of Y/n, Mr. Lambert’s first mistake, and would whisper in her ear how he would show her the proper way to wear a condom when they got to her house that night. To say he did end up showing her was an understatement.

The camera then turned to her friend before she continued on with what she was saying, “Anyways, Emery here, has informed me about this back to school party for seniors at Anthony Stilettos house. So, we are heading to the mall so we can get a nice looking outfit for tonight. I’ll see you guys later!” And with that the camera switched off.

He thought that was the end of the video, but when she popped back on his screen, he was pleasantly surprised. She wore a black dress that just reached her knees, the end of it rippled and flew each time she took a step. Her hair and makeup was done, and her shoes matched her dress, she really was the most beautiful person he has ever met.

Without saying anything, Y/n moved the camera to where the view was now on Emery. She wore a simple tight red dress that fit her like a glove, she was placing bobby pins in her hair before realising a camera was watching her every move. Emery turned away from the mirror Y/n had in her room, and started making random poses into the camera. The video finally ended with Y/n facing the camera back to herself while laughing at it.

October 7th, 2010:

It was homecoming. Their final homecoming, and of course, Zayn asked her to be his date. He didn’t go all out like the previous years, this particular year was asked right after they finished giving each other their all. They were bunched up together, all sweaty and breathless, and that is when Zayn asked her to go to homecoming with him. He thought it was gross because of their previous activities, but Y/n thought it was sweet, endearing even. It was personal and intimate, she wouldn’t have had it any other way. Plus, she was tired of all the attention that comes with getting asked to homecoming.

Her dress was a beautiful shade of baby yellow, Zayn wore his usual black suit but with a yellow tie and a yellow rose pinned to his coat pocket. The night couldn’t have been anymore magical.

“Z, are you ready to go? Emmy and Dallas are waiting in the car.” Her soft voice echoed through the speakers, she was worried about being late. But more so, excited about what the night had planned for the couple. Zayn was fixing his hair, like he does any other day, however today, he wanted to look his absolute best. “Just one more second, love. Gotta look perfect before leaving these four secured walls.”

Y/n rolled her eyes into the camera before another smile took over her face. It only got wider as he finally announced that he was ready.

“Baby, you look handsome! You don’t need all that hair gel, make one wrong move and we’re calling you Uncle Jesse.” Zayn scoffed, his hands finding their place on her hips, him being pressed up against her back. His chin resting on her shoulder, they looked so in love. They were so in love.

October 31st, 2010:

Fall was Y/n’s favorite season, meaning Halloween was by far her favorite holiday. She squealed into the camera when Zayn walked out in his Peter Pan costume. “Baby, you look so fucking adorable!” She cooed, though Zayn was having none of it. “Do we have to go to this party? Can’t we just stay in and watch scary movies, I promise I will protect you if you get too scared!”

He knew it was no use, Y/n had been going on and on about Anthony’s costume party for the past week, so when she started laughing, Zayn internally groaned. “Brave of you to assume I will get scared during a horror movie. How about we go for just an hour, then you and I can come back here and watch whatever movie you want?”

At that, his ears perked, he could go for an hour. That gives him all the more time alone with his love. “Hocus Pocus? That’s my favorite.”

“Yes baby, we can watch Hocus Pocus, do this for me, and I’m all yours for the rest of the night.” A grin was stretched across his face as she leaned up and gave a peck to his lips. Adoration shining brightly in her eyes as she looked up at him. “You are so lucky I love you, Y/n.”

“I love you, Zayn. More than you will ever know.”

December 31st, 2010:

“Hola, my favorite people! Happy New Years Eve, I hope you guys are having a good day. My family is having a little party to bring in the new year, even though you won’t be watching this until later when I decide to post it, I hope you guys have an amazing holiday. Be safe now. Bye!”

Christmas and New Year’s was hard for Y/n. She had major separation anxiety for everyone she grows close to, so not being able to see the people she loves for a whole two weeks was taking a toll on her. Not to mention, Zayn went back to Bradford for the holidays, so he wasn’t there to keep her calm. All she had was the emails and messages he would send her.

However, that night was different. She didn’t know what it was, but the air felt more intoxicating. There was something she was missing and the young girl couldn’t put her finger on it.

Emery got ahold of Y/n’s camera without her noticing, pressing the ‘record’ button and smiling.

“Hi, as many of you may know, my name is Emery White. Before questions start racing through your head about where Y/n is, she is currently in the kitchen talking to one of her neighbors, and she knows nothing about this so, shhh!” Emery held her index finger up to her mouth, even though she is talking to a camera.

“So, the time is now 11:58, meaning it is almost New Year’s and I got a message from a good friend of mine to get her camera and start recording. Oh wait, she’s coming over! Act normal!”

“Emmy? Why do you have my camera, wait no, when did you get my camera?” Emery turned her neck to look at Y/n, and smiled while looking at her friends confused face. “It’s almost midnight, I figured we could record the big moment for your journal thing.”

Y/n looked at her watch and sure enough, it was 12:59, and the people around her were counting down. By the time Y/n looked back at her friend, Emery had switched her position to behind the camera, her smile now stretching to her eyes. She gave a confused smile towards the camera before shaking her head.

10..

9..

8..

A tap was felt on Y/n’s shoulder making her turn around, not believing her eyes, she had to do a double take. There he was in all of his glory. Zayn stood in front of her with a bouquet of random flowers, her eyes widening in complete shock.

3..

2..

Before she could fully process his presence, Zayn had planted his lips against hers in what he would call, one of their best kisses. His arms went around her waist while hers were around his neck, keeping him as close as humanly possible. She was the first to pull away from the kiss, tears forming at the bottom of her eyes but never fell. Zayn pulled her back, this time her face went into his neck as he whispered out a small, “Happy New Years, baby.”

May 22nd, 2011:

Senior prom, a day Y/n has waited her entire life for. Getting all dolled up for one night of perfection sounded glorious. Unlike most people, her dress doesn’t reach the floor but goes a little ways past her knees. It was a light shade of green, she wasn’t usually one for the cliche pink and blue, and her stomach was laced over showing her belly button peircing. She felt on top of the world, the most gorgeous she has ever felt in her entire life.

Zayn was in a nude tuxedo, a lightish green tie tucked into the blazer. “It’s prom day, baby, how do you feel?” The now well-known camera placed in front of his face, though he paid no attention to it, but really the girl behind it. “Like I have the most beautiful girlfriend in the world. How did I get so lucky, hm?”

The blush was evident on her face, he could see it perfectly now even with the camera facing him and not herself. He could still see the light in her eyes. Looking back on it, he couldn’t imagine living his life without her, how could he let her go?

It wasn’t like they got in a fight or anything, Zayn and Y/n were going to different colleges and he didn’t want to do the whole long distance thing. He felt she deserved better than that. So even though the breakup was absolutely not a mutual agreement, Y/n somewhat understood and let him walk away.

“You’re such the charmer, Zayn. Always got me blushing for no good reason.”

“I would be a bad boyfriend if I didn’t.”

Now turning the camera to face both of them, Zayn placed a kiss on her lips before turning off the camera and letting their night go on as best as it could, for it would be one of the last good memories they have. Except at the time, neither of them knew the last time would actually be the last time.

June 4th, 2011:

“Hey everyone, I just want to start off by saying congratulations, we made it. Graduating today was the most amazing feelings, and I’m sure you all can agree with me. The past four years have really taught me a lot, I know I sound like the Mallory Barnes, our valedictorian that gave the speech today, but I’m serious, you all have been amazing. Teachers included.”

Y/n wasn’t in her usual attire. She was in a comfortable baggy hoodie, and that’s all you could see as her camera was propped on the desk in the corner of the room. Her hair was in a messy bun, no makeup, and her glasses were sat perfectly on her nose. What no one could notice was the slight puffiness to her eyes, the way they were red and tired. But Zayn noticed, however. When Y/n first uploaded this to her instagram, Zayn couldn’t bare to watch it, so seeing it now definitely brought back a feeling he tried too hard to push away.

“In the past four years I have learned about friendships, I learned about love, and I learned about heartbreak. I have got to say, high school brought me some really great friendships that I will cherish forever. I am finding it very difficult to say goodbye, but we are bound to go off and do bigger and better things. The future awaits for us.”

“I just want to thank you guys for the amazing memories, and I hope you guys make your dreams come true.” Y/n sighed into the camera, she was really bad at saying goodbye, though you would think it would be easier considering no one likes high school. However, Y/n loved every single second of it, maybe not the learning but the memories made.

“Now, I am going to get really sappy for a minute and say a massive thank you to the man who has loved me for the past four years. Zayn, I know we haven’t talked in a few weeks, and you’re probably not even watching this, but just know that I am so proud of you. I don’t know how I could not be. I really hope you make something wonderful of yourself. You were by far my favorite part of this journey. Thank you for sticking with me and for loving me. And even though we aren’t together anymore, I love you.”

“We almost had it all, didn’t we?”

AN: Yeah, I don't think I like this babahahah. Love the concept but someone out there could definitely write it better.

#zayn mailk #zayn x reader #zayn malik fanfic #zayn malik angst #angst fanfic

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joyfulhopelox · 4 years ago

Text

Sidewalk Chalk

Pairing: Basketball Player! Yoongi x reader (non-idol! au, childhood friends to lovers! au)

Genre: fluff

Warnings: none

Summary: As a child you had always loved to play in the park. Loud and obnoxious you made an array of friends, but you soon discovered that the lonely boy sitting on a swing on the playground is much more fun to draw with. Bonding over chalk drawings in the heat of the summer, little did you know that he would become your rock for many summers to follow.

Word count: 9k

rating : g

A/N: This is square 7/25 for the @bangtanwritingbingo (Square: Chalk Drawings). Thank you @min-yoon-kween and @sunshinejunghoseokie for trying even when the house was burning i appreciate you guys so much. I am also really grateful to my best friend who told me off for my general writing mistakes and for keeping me together.

A massive massive massive thank you to the amazing @ttaetae for her amazing skills of pulling a crappy banner i made and making it a masterpiece. You have saved me!

I have not written so much fluff, but it was needed after all the angst and all the angst that will follow after this.

Copyrights @joyfulhopelox for the work

As always please leave feedback and/or talk to me as i love to hear from you! Enjoy <3

The sound of the birds chirping in the early hours of the morning, as you walked through the park, was the perfect soundtrack to your day. Smiling softly to yourself, you took a deep breath in, savouring the scent of the late summer blooms. Your feet carried you slowly towards your destination. You were in no rush. Today time was just a concept, and you would make the most of it. You caught yourself checking the clock multiple times before you left the house and decided that you would leave your watch at home. Today was your day. Nothing would ruin it, not even the rain forecast for later in the day. The sound of children laughing was a telltale sign that you were quickly approaching your destination. Excitedly you sped up only to stop abruptly. Under your foot lay the faded outlines of a chalk drawn hopscotch. Smiling brightly to yourself you looked carefully around you, your eyes taking in the scenery, there was no one in sight. Placing one foot on the starting line, you proceed to hop through the numbers laughing quietly to yourself. You were definitely over the age where that would be considered appropriate, but you did not care. Sidewalk chalk games have always been your favourite.

“I see you have found something more important than meeting your own boyfriend.” The voice startled you and with a yelp you stumbled right before your feet could touch the squares with the numbers 9 and 10 in it. Turning towards the source you pouted at the man standing in front of you. The wide smile and soft features were unmistakable and your pout quickly dissolved into a beaming grin. “Yoongi.” You laughed, your feet carrying you towards said man. As you approached him, your pace quickened before you broke out into a run jumping into his arms at the last minute.

“Y/N.” He grunted, the impact knocking the air out of him. His displeasure was not real though and once he gained his footing back his arms wrapped around you tightly. Looking down at him, your heart swelled with affection. His eyes were half closed, the bright smile taking over most of his face, his black hair long enough to brush over his pale complexion. He was handsome and he was all yours. Squeezing him in your arms again to gain his attention you pecked his cheek. “Hello.” He couldn’t help but laugh at your redundant greeting but nevertheless responded. “Hello love. Have a good morning?” The arms wrapped around your waist tightened, you realised he was still carrying you. Worried for his back you wriggled yourself to get him to let you go. His arms only tightened around you, not ready to let you out of his arms just yet.

“Yoongi.” You whined with a pout. “Let me go! Your back.” You patted his shoulder. He knew you were not actually angry at him, if the laughter lines at the corner of your eyes were any indication. “Just a bit longer love, I haven't seen you in so long.” Your pout lessened and you laughed at him, “it’s only been 2 days silly.” Despite your words your arms wrapped around his neck once more as you buried your head in the nape of his neck. Inhaling deeply you took in his warm scent, a smell that has become so familiar to you, it made you feel like coming home.

“Exactly,” he laughed, and you could imagine the sight of his gummy smile in your head. After so many years, the thought of it still makes your heart race. He was not very liberal with his smiles, but when he did share them with you, it was the most beautiful and uplifting sight. The intensity of it took your breath away. Suddenly you felt the world around you shift as he started spinning the two of you round. You screeched holding onto him as if your life depended on it. This was another uncharacteristic Yoongi behaviour, this playfulness only rearing its head few and far between. As a public figure he always had to be careful of his outward appearance and behaviour, his moves always calculated and thought of beforehand so as to avoid any potential scandals. However, with you he always let his guard down. The aloof Min Yoongi morphed into a child, ready to do anything you asked of him. Even if it was building a fort at 4am to cuddle under and listen to the sound of the rain pitter-pattering outside. “Yoongi stop!” You cried out, the colours of the trees around you morphing into one as dizziness started to set in. He did not stop until the echo of voices reached your ears, signalling the approach of a group of people. Putting you back on your feet, his hands lightly gripped your elbows making sure you did not fall over. Once he was sure you were firmly planted on the ground, his hands dropped to yours and with a silly grin he enclosed his palms over yours.

“Come on, we have company.” You chuckled, but followed him, his bigger strides keeping him a few steps ahead of you. The sight of his back brought back so many memories. Over the two decades you had been close, it had become a sight so intimate to you, that more often than not it appeared in your dreams as a refuge, your safe haven. The voices behind you could be heard coming closer, and Yoongi turned his head to glance over his shoulder. Wide eyed he glanced at you, a quiet signal. You needed to hurry up, and so with a giggle you picked up the pace, breaking into a small run trying to reach a place where it was just the two of you.

Hand in hand, your steps in sync, you walked down the empty path, enjoying the quietness of the early morning, the sun beating down on the pavement, eyes closed in contentment. You remembered the first time you felt this complete, the day when Yoongi finally asked you to be his girlfriend. As friends you always spent time together but as soon as you decided that the furtive glances and subtle hand touches were more than feelings of friendship, something in your relationship shifted. Your days meeting in the cafe were not about two friends catching up with each other anymore, instead, they could be considered a bud waiting to bloom, the bud of your romantic relationship. Your conversations were not as easy going anymore, still lighthearted, but this time, him and you were establishing the grounds of your affection. An affection which you would build on for however long you were meant to last. In your heart, you knew that you had always loved him, even before this significant shift in your connection.

“You are making that face.” His voice broke you out of your daydream. Brought back to the present, you narrowed your eyes at him in mock offense. “What is with my face? I thought you liked this face.” Sticking your tongue out at him, you started swinging your intertwined arms higher and higher in the air. Yoongi scoffed at your childishness, but he couldn’t deny the warmth spreading through him. You were beautiful, even when acting half your age, and he wouldn’t have chosen anyone else to fall in love with. Your loud disposition was what drew him to you in the first place. Or better yet, your loud disposition was the reason you barged into his life. The thought of your first meeting made him smile, his grip on your hand tightening. “See, now you are making a face.” Your rebuttal came quickly and he couldn’t help but laugh. As he looked at you, his laugh dissolved into a fond smile. “You always have to have the last word, don’t you?” Before you could think of a response, he pulled you to his side, his hand released yours, only to wrap his arm around your shoulders.

“I was just thinking.” He hummed, glancing at the sky, its brightness making him squint. He regretted not taking his pair of sunglasses from home, but before he could dwell on that thought a poke to his side brought his attention back to you. The sight that greeted him instantly slowed his pace to a stop, and he realised it was not you who poked him, but the pair of sunglasses that you were offering to him with a hopeful smile. “Knew you’d forget them so I kept a pair on me.” In that moment, the brightness of the sky couldn’t even compare with your smile, the latter becoming the sole reason his heart started doing somersaults in his chest. By instinct his hand went to check his back pocket, its weight becoming more and more apparent. He stopped himself before he could draw your attention. Instead, he took the glasses you offered him and placed them on the bridge of his nose, his face instantly relaxing.

With a grateful smile, he wrapped his arm around your shoulders once more. “What were you thinking about?” His eyes drank in the sight of your wistful smile, your eyes gazing off into the distance - the face he’s mentioned before, the face you made when you reminisced. He’s seen that expression multiple times when you’d both be sitting on your balcony, a glass of wine in your hands, your back leaning onto him, both covered in blankets. On those nights you would talk about anything and nothing at all. You would share amusing stories of your daily life, he would share his creative processes with you, sometimes you would play stupid games and sometimes, the sombre atmosphere left no room for entertainment. On those days, both of you would make sure to stay away from any alcohol until after you had gotten all your emotions out. Those nights you would cry for each other, your hearts intertwining along with the stars, your bodies moulding into one, until the stress and pain from the day would release its grip on your souls. He knew that look all too well, it meant that somewhere in your head, you were reliving a story, and so he waited patiently knowing very well he would hear it soon. After a few minutes of silence, the only sounds to be heard were the crunch of the gravel scattered on the pavement under your shoes, you turned towards him, a content smile on your face.

“Do you remember when we first met?” At your words he looked thoughtful for a second too long, before he responded with a cheeky grin. “You mean to say I should be able to remember the time when dinosaurs existed on this planet?” You huffed in aggravation before pushing into him slightly with your shoulder. “Honeyboy,” you warned playfully, “don’t make me stuff sand down your trousers.” He guffawed at the words he heard for the first time exactly twenty years ago. “As if you had enough courage to stick your hands in that mess.” His words should’ve annoyed you, as they did before, instead you beamed at him, the butterflies in your stomach causing a storm of emotions to burst inside of you. He did remember- that was his exact response to you at the time. The knowledge that not only did he have a vague idea of what you were talking about, but he also had a vivid recollection of the exact exchange that took place at the time made you dizzy.

Indeed, that summer day on the playground, twenty years ago, you threatened him with sand in his overalls if he refused to offer you his friendship. That thought would make you blush for years to come, but at the time, it was what instigated a beautiful friendship.

The children playing in the sand screeched and laughed, each trying to create a sand castle better than their friend’s. In the midst of it, you were the loudest of them all. Loud and obnoxious, you commanded the attention of the whole group, self proclaiming yourself the queen of all the sand castles, even though yours was the one that lacked the most. Yet, no one dared to question it, they went along with what you were telling them. The group of children surrounding you soon got bigger and bigger, as your loud disposition would attract the attention of all the newcomers.

“Come on, let's play at the monkey bars!” your pudgy finger pointed towards the abandoned steel poles. You had been eyeing them for a while, not because they posed an interest to you, you could care less about them. But the lonely boy leaning on one of the bars immediately commanded your attention. He was digging a stick in the soft ground at the base of the pole, and you have seen the look adorning his face before. It was the same look you would have when your parents would take you to their grown up things, it was boredom. And on a playground that was sacrilege to you. Without waiting for a response from your newly made friends you ran towards the bar, making sure to stop a few feet in front of the boy.

“Hello?” You called out to him your voice wavering for a second, wondering if it was smart to approach a stranger like that. But as soon his eyes lifted from the intricate designs his stick had managed to draw, your resolve steeled. He looked sad, lonely, and you would not let that happen. Approaching him with a determined gaze on your face you stopped a few breaths away from kicking him in the face with your knee. “Hey, do you wanna play with me?” You smiled at him, the lack of a front tooth making it look like a comical sight. The boy carried on staring at you, not uttering a word, so you tried to extend the invitation again, this time slower, assuming he did not understand you the first time. When he remained still for a few more seconds after which he returned to his masterpiece, your anger increased, and you stomped your foot on the ground.

“Hey, don’t make me stuff sand down your trousers!” You threatened, prepared to bend down to gather a handful of the said offender. The boy scoffed under his breath and you prepared to throw an insult back at him, but the sight of his smirk made you close your mouth quickly. “As if you have enough courage to stick your hands in that mess.” His stick motions to the still damp mound of sand by your feet to emphasize his words and as if to prove him wrong you bend down your hands sinking into the softness of the sand. Giving him a threatening look you dare him to continue mocking you. “Are you stupid?” His voice is harsh, but underneath all that your seven year old brain could detect the bravado. Faltering, you gave him a thoughtful look. “I will have you know i got a golden star at school the other day, so i’m not stupid!” You responded just as harshly. How dare he call you stupid? “If you don’t want to play with me just say, fine.” You stick up your nose in distaste, ready to leave the rude boy behind when he goes to stop you, the sound caught in his throat. Your eyes scrutinised him ready to give him a piece of your mind when you spot the leg that he is hiding behind himself, a thick cast around the ankle. Your eyes widen as realisation dawns over you. Of course, how could you have been so stupid and so brash. Your mother warned you to not rush head first into being judgemental and for the first time you understood what she meant. Embarrassed at your own behaviour you blush, your eyes darting around trying to find a distraction. When you spot the empty grey pavement a thought crosses your mind. You turn around quickly, throwing him a “wait for me” over your shoulder before you rush towards your mother.

Running back towards his dejected form, you could see the tension slip away when he spies you returning. Once again stopping short from kicking him you blush, the sudden courage you had earlier completely gone. Bashfully you extend your hand towards him, a pack of colourful chalk in your hands. Staring at it confusedly, he didn’t know what to do so instead he asked, “what is that?” he pointed towards it and you scoffed . “It’s chalk, now who is the one who is stupid?” He stared at it in awe before he shifted his attention towards you, “and what are you going to do with it?” You don’t respond to him, but instead you grab his arm, your fingers were clammy and could barely enclose over his forearm but with tremendous stubbornness you managed to get him standing upright. Not letting go of his hand you slowly encouraged him to take a few steps at a time until you both reached the strip of pavement you’ve spied earlier. You made it a point to not respond to the boy’s questions until you were both settled, your bums on the pavement and you’d pulled out two pieces of coloured chalk. One pink and one blue. He extended his hand to reach for the blue but you pulled it away tutting at him.

“Not this one stupid, this one.” You handed the pink one and he stared at it in distaste. “But pink is not for boys, pink is for girls.” He complained and extended his hand out for the blue chalk again. “Blue and pink are two colours. That is all. My mommy says you shouldn’t think inside a box, you should expand your….” You stopped, your face scrunched up in concentration. “Skyline…or something.” Dejected at not having remembered the word you took a deep breath in and carried on. “ Anyways, so it doesn’t matter if you are a girl or a boy.” The boy looked at you in awe, his eyes blinking repeatedly in fascination. “O-kay.” He’s quick to relent and soon enough, the outline of a house could be seen in pink chalk in front of him. The excited screams of children could be heard from across the playground and suddenly someone is yelling a name. “Y/N!” The boy looks confusedly around him, expecting a response from the crowd of children that took up his spot near the monkey bars. Instead, you looked up and waved at the person yelling the name. “Are you coming?” They waved you over and for a second the boy thought you’d get up and leave him, like most of the people have done when they’ve discovered he was not only shy but also a cripple for the time being. He could feel his heart drop at the thought, nevertheless, you glanced at him briefly before shaking your head. “Nah.” The group didn’t even bother calling for you a second time, their attention grabbed by the colourful metal bars awaiting them.

“Oh yes, my name is Y/N!” You suddenly turned towards your companion, your beaming smile uncovering your missing tooth once more. “What is yours?”

The boy looked wearily at you, the thought of you staying with him despite his handicap warming his soul. He throws you a small smile, his chocolate eyes scrunching slightly at the action and you swore that in that moment you felt enraptured. “Yoongi.” He didn’t say anything else, his attention back to his dream house. Sure, it may have been in chalk but he was determined to have that. Admiring his work, his eyes trailed towards your form and he could feel a tender smile bloom on his face. Yes, he was determined to have that.

“You were the biggest sap I have ever met.” Back to the present, you and him had managed to make your way through the trees, the winding path taking you further into the park. The sounds of the city seemed far away from you now, the only sounds surrounding you being the busy chirp of birds and the rustle of the leaves in the wind. Yoongi laughed and prepared to prove you wrong, but if he was honest with himself, you weren’t. Taking his lack of response as a win, you grinned cheekily at him. “Do you remember the time you wanted to convince me to climb a tree with you? Because you were told that fairies lived in that tree?” You spied the redness colouring his cheeks, the memory was a blessing and a curse for him. He did ask you to climb into the tree with you, but your memory of that event was not entirely correct. He had asked you, not because he heard that fairies lived in that tree, but because he heard that if you climbed in it with your crush, you’d end up spending the rest of your life together. He was twelve at the time, barely getting out of his prepubescent phase where girls were disgusting to him. He had the shock of his life when he managed to escape such beliefs, only to be smacked head on into it with his best friend. His best friend who went on adventures with him, his best friend who’d sit on the swings listening to his stories of pirates and of dragons - no princesses because they were gross. His best friend who happened to be you. Suddenly, his stories included princesses and princes who saved them from the dragon; most often than not, his plan to be a prince would backfire and he would end up being bossed around and turned into the princess who needed to be saved. He took it all, and played the part with starry eyes, because it was you who asked this of him. Any other person and he would have kicked them in the shin. But for you, for you he was willing to face the wrath of his parents for being out late at night, he was willing to skip basketball practice, only to spend a few more hours with you.

“Correction love, I was made into biggest sap possible.” He narrowed his eyes at you behind his glasses, “who decided that being emo was the way to go, prepared to get your ears pierced and god knows how many tattoos, even though you are terrified of needles?” You couldn’t help but laugh at the memory, the exact conversation that you two had with each other, still ingrained in your brain. It was the first time he had admitted to feeling anything more than platonic love towards you.

You were both perched on top of your bed, your knees drawn to your chest, his, crossed at the ankles, his eyes pierced yours in the fiercest of stares and you drew your legs closer to yourself in an attempt to ward yourself from his stare. It was one of the first few times you had witnessed Yoongi this upset, and it scared you. Only because you had dared mentioning the tattoo you were planning to get, excitedly you even drew a design for it. Yoongi’s reaction was not what you’d expected. to be honest, you didn't even know what he would say, his emotions and mood swings could be extremely volatile- but it was definitely not this. “Yooooongiiiii,” you whined, his stare made you more uncomfortable as time passed and no word was exchanged between the two of you. His only response was a huff, but in your eyes that was better than the silence he’s been offering you for the past half an hour. “Look, it is not that big of a deal, I get this and then I will stop, I promise.” You pleaded, your eyes getting wider and wider, in your signature baby face. A face that Yoongi knew he could not win against, but this time, he would try his hardest. Seeing that your efforts yielded no results you sighed, the sadness that you’d tried to contain taking over you. Attuned to you and your moods more than he’d like to admit, Yoongi noticed the shift in your emotions straight away, and he shifted closer to you on the bed with a worried look. Neither of you uttered a word, the traffic outside your window being the only sounds that penetrated through the walls of your bedroom.

“Look,” you finally broke the silence, the angst in your sixteen year old heart too much to contain. “I just want to prove myself to him, okay?” Sensing Yoongi’s body weight shift on the bed, you hurriedly continued, “-and I know what you will say, I don’t need to right? But, you don’t know what it’s like. I have had this crush for so long now, it hurts physically.” Your voice broke and along with it so did Yoongi’s heart. He had tried his best to support you in all your endeavours, including your romantic ones, and yet, the older he got, the harder it was for him to dampen his own. “I do know.” He muttered and your head snapped up to look at him, he was facing away from you, a dusty rosy pink colouring his cheeks.

“What?” You whispered, your brain trying to recall if at any point Yoongi has expressed his interest in any girl, or boy for that matter. But no matter how hard you’d tried, there was nothing, not even in passing. So once he reiterated what he said before, this time louder, you looked at him bewilderment. “How, what, Yoongi, why did you not say something about this? Who is it? Do I know her? Is it a he?” In your excitement at this new reveal, you forgot all about your anxiety and hurt, yet, your incessant questions were causing him distress. Shifting away from you on the bed he rubbed the back of his neck, “forget I said anything.” But you would not have it, somehow, the thought of Yoongi having a crush on someone felt like Christmas. Maybe one day, both of your crushes would return your feelings, and then you would go on dates, you and him, and other people. Your brain froze at the thought of sharing him with other people, dread settling over you. You could not fathom not having Yoongi there for you. You have been together through thick and thin in the decade that you have known each other. He was there when your parents split up, he was there when you experienced your first teenage heartbreak, he was there to stop you when the hurt of having such a broken family made you resort to underage drinking. He was there to tell you how stupid you were and how you were not only hurting yourself, but you were hurting the people around you. He was there to remind you that you were not alone when you were faced with the hardest decision, to stay with your mother or leave with your father. He was there when high school entrance exams had a toll on you and you stopped eating, he was there to pick you up when you did not get into the same high school as he did. He was also there for the good times. But now that you thought about it, most of your good times involved him one way or another. When he took you to see a film that you had been gushing about yet he hated the genre, when he taught you how to ice skate, when you went to see his first basketball match, when he got you a puppy for Christmas so you would not be alone. He was there ingrained in your heart painting it in pink. The realisation that maybe it was not that one high school classmate that you liked hit you like a ton of bricks. It wasn’t him that made your heart race and butterflies race in your stomach. No, it was your best friend, Min Yoongi.

“Yoongi.” You hesitantly reached out to him, your hand brushing the sleeve of his hoodie. “I just…” He ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. He couldn’t tell you, not because he was afraid he would ruin a friendship, you were both stronger than that. But he could not bear the thought of placing his emotions on you, of influencing you that way. Mentally you were already burnt out, having pined over someone for so long and not having your feelings returned, that he was afraid you would just jump at the first opportunity of an escape. He did not want his affection for you to be your getaway car. It would only hurt you and it would ruin him in the long run.

Grabbing onto his hoodie, halting him from biting his thumb, an action you have come to realise was comfort for him when he was stressed, you pulled yourself more towards him. “I love you.” You whispered, your voice drowned by the sound of a car honking outside and for a second you prayed that he hadn't heard you, but judging by the way his whole body stiffened, a rock underneath your palm, you knew it was wishful thinking.

“You know, I didn’t think you’d heard me that day.” You mused your attention back to present Yoongi, the Yoongi that has already admitted to you on more than one occasion how much he loved you.

“What made you think that?” His gentle voice was matched by the movement of his fingers playing with yours. “It took you almost a year to reply or even acknowledge it.” You smiled wryly at him. Even though that had been in the past, the memory of the uncertainty and apprehension you lived through for a whole year was still fresh in your mind. After months of not knowing how to approach him, every awkward interaction strained the bond of your friendship, you argued with yourself whether or not it was fair on him for you to push and demand an answer, just for your peace of mind.

Yoongi’s fingers grip yours tightly in an attempt to soothe the ache he could read on your face at the memory. He couldn’t deny that he tried to ignore the drift that happened between the two of you that year, thinking it was best if you both got used to relying less on each other. After all, university was looming over the two of you, he was about to leave on a basketball scholarship, and as much faith as he had in your friendship, he did not want to burden you with his feelings. The only solution that he’s come up with was to let the relationship naturally drift apart.

“You were a bit of an asshole, you know?” You smiled at the thought, the one and only time he had ever made you cry throughout your friendship. So caught up in your thoughts, that neither of you has noticed the sight of the one place that was dear to both of you. The basketball court where his life has begun. “Should we go in?” you motioned towards the closed gates. “They’re locked.” The lock was indeed on the wired gate, but you grinned wickedly, a sight that told Yoongi you were about to suggest something that he may not agree with. “When did that stop us?” You laughed as he groaned in disapproval whilst taking his glasses off and placing them in his jacket. You were not wrong, it had never stopped you, and he had his fair share of keeping you out of detention on most days for jumping the school gates.”We are not school kids anymore, Y/N.” His tone sounded as if he was scolding you, but the glimmer in his eyes told you otherwise. You pull on his hand lightly, bringing him closer to you. “Please?” You whispered as you stood on your tiptoes, your lips only a breadth away from his. Yoongi faltered, he knew he couldn’t say no to you. He smirked, that did not mean he couldn’t request bribery though.

“Y/N, we’d be trespassing.” His tone was serious, but the pull at the corner of his mouth told you another story. You knew very well where this was going, but you would not give in that easily, two could play at this game. With a huff you grabbed the lapels of his jean jacket pulling him flush to your body, your noses touching. You licked your lips, the tip of your tongue ghosting over his. “Please honeyboy?” You pleaded, your glossy lips forming into a pout. Yoongi gulped, it took all he had to not sweep you off your feet and kiss you senseless. “Please.” You rubbed the tip of your nose against his softly and he had to close his eyes to calm himself down. “Love,” he warned and you knew that with one more push he would be all yours. “Yes, love?” You let go of his jacket only to trail your palms up his torso, feeling the muscles contract underneath your touch, to wrap your arms around his neck.

“Fuck it.” Yoongi grabbed your waist pulling you to him with such force you let out a yelp. Your bodies smacked against each other, your lips clashed in a searing kiss, a battle for dominance where there was no winner, just pure pleasure. You moaned into the kiss, his soft lips attacking yours roughly, his tongue slid into your mouth caressing yours. Out of breath you pulled away from him, you could still feel the phantom of his lips against yours. Panting slightly you smirked, “I won, now let's go.” You pulled away from his embrace and grabbed his hand pulling him along with you. Gobsmacked, Yoongi followed you, his eyes never leaving the back of your head. It’s been like this ever since you met, you would somehow convince him to get into trouble with you, and he would follow you like a lost puppy. No, he thought, like a lovesick fool.

“Come on, help me.” You giggled as you grabbed onto the fence ready to pull yourself up. Yoongi sighed but did what you asked, and soon you were both running towards the centre of the court, you a giggling mess and him laughing at your giddiness. As soon as you reached your destination you plopped yourself down gesturing wildly at him. “Come on slowpoke.” Yoongi shook his head at you but increased his pace until he hovered over you. He sat down next to you, the object in his back pocket poking him in the back. He sighed, worry washing over him. Needless to say he had no time to dwell on it as you wiggled yourself next to him, settling your head on his lap. “I missed this place.” You sighed, closing your eyes in bliss. The heat from the sun was less harsh than earlier as it was nearing late afternoon. You had walked the whole day stopping in places and getting ice cream and street food from vendors stationed in the park. It was a weekday and so not many people were milling about, giving you the perfect opportunity to enjoy yourselves. With Yoongi being a well known basketball player, it was easy for him to get recognised. Whereas, it wasn’t too much of a problem usually, you just wanted some time for yourselves.

“Hey,” he called out softly, his fingers playing with the tip of your ears. You whined and swatted at his hand. “Do you remember my last high school match?”

Your laughter died in your throat, and you opened your eyes slowly. That memory always brought tears to your eyes, the whirlwind of emotions you had gone through that day left a lasting impression on you. “You mean when you yelled in my face that you loved me and called me stupid in front of your whole team?” You smile wryly at him and he has the audacity to grimace. “In my defense, you were poking a sleeping bear.” His fingers traced the line of your nose until they reached the tip. “Sleeping bear indeed. That is a good self portrait.” You stuck your tongue out at him only to break out in peals of laughter when his fingers find the side of your hip.

“Stop, stop, stop.” You grabbed at his hand trying to get him to stop but his attack was relentless. “You know the words love.” He playfully reminds you and you bite your lip. “Okay, okay, okay, I'm sorry oh mighty honeyboy. I didn't mean to poke fun at you or your skills.” You mock saluted, and he pinched you lightly as a warning, his eyes narrowing.

For a few moments it is silent, both of you enjoying the remnants of the sun, hands intertwined together until you break the stillness by asking the question that hung over the both of you. “Would you have done it all the same?” Yoongi knew what you meant, you were asking him if it were not for the loss of his team then, and the loss of his scholarship, would he have confessed to you that day?

“Yes.” He sighed, there was no need to avoid the inevitable. “Maybe not then, maybe not until years later, but I would have.” You lifted your head up briefly to glance at him, “would you have waited so long? Why?” Your voice is soft, any traces of mischievousness gone.

“Because I had loved you for a long time, even before you said anything.” He sighs, he’d never told you this. After he confessed that day, you never talked about it again. You took it at face value, never once questioning his feelings for you, or their duration for that matter. Your eyes widen in surprise. “Wait, you had?” Yoongi nods at your question, his eyes finding yours as he continues, “ever since you took my hand that day.” He smiles softly at you and you couldn’t stop the watery laugh that escapes. “Well, I enjoyed my aggressive confession, and I would not trade it for the world.” Yoongi could only laugh, the embarrassment present in his voice, he had not meant to be that aggressive but his team had lost, he was injured and you were a crying mess yelling at him for not being more careful.

“Why could you not be more careful? Who cares if you win or not? Did you have to step in at that time?” Eighteen year old you was an emotional mess. For the past year and a half yours and Yoongi’s relationship had suffered tremendously, you experienced your first heartbreak when he chose to ignore your confession, and your second heartbreak when your first boyfriend became too intimidated by your friendship. itting there on the sidelines, watching with your heart in your throat as Yoongi tried to placate the ball only to get hit in the chest with so much force he laid there on the ground for a good two minutes;Needless to say that had been your breaking point. You knew you weren’t being fair, this match was everything to him. This match determined whether or not he would get the scholarship for the university he wanted to get into. Now that they had lost, he also lost the chance to get it. You knew all that, but the sight of him sprawled on the ground unmoving was too much for you, and as soon as the referee had called for the end of the match you ran as fast as you could.

The team gathered around the two of you, after you have managed to break the ranks and slot yourself between them to reach him. You didn’t care that everyone could hear your argument, all you could see was him and his recklessness. Yoongi did not move a muscle, his impassive face not giving away any of his feelings and that only fuelled your anger even more. “Yoongi! Stop being stubborn, talk to me!” You pulled at his jersey, desperate for a reaction. You didn’t even notice the tears that had started to trail down your face, too caught up in lecturing him. He did however, and with a sigh he ran his hands over his face. He really did not want to cause a scene in front of his teammates, but you were not giving up, and the sight of your tears hurt him more than the kick to the chest he’s gotten.

“You know this matters for me Y/N, why are you being like this!” He finally acknowledged you, the tone of his voice still calm and collected. “Because I care damnit!” You pull harder as if that would make him answer you truthfully. Instead of paying attention to you, Yoongi just looked down at his shoes, dreading this conversation. He’s done so well to avoid talking about this, and even though he noticed that this was something you haven’t forgotten, he hoped that when you finally got your first boyfriend things would change, and you would forget about him. He knew it was selfish of him but he couldn't help being relieved when he was offered the easy way out.

“Why?” His voice is a whisper, but you heard it, the sounds of the crowd not even reaching your ears, all you could see was him. Sniffling you let go of his top, defeated you wiped your tears with your hoodie - his hoodie to be precise. “Because! Does it matter?” You don’t whisper, your voice rings loudly, tired or not, you can’t let your chance go to waste. That was the first time he addressed your feelings and you would take it and fight until the end.

“Yes, yes it does!” He raised his voice, the frustration at your stubbornness finally getting to him. “Why would you do this to you? To me? I tried my best to be diplomatic about this! And you are making it so damn difficult!” You flinch at his tone, he’s never raised his voice at you before, but you were not one to back down. Not now, when you finally have the chance to express your true feelings towards him.

“Because I am not a pushover! And because I am not scared! And because I believe in us! And…” the sob that escapes you turns into a hiccup and you paused to wipe at your tears again. Yoongi’s face softened, regret washing over him. He knew he was at fault, for your tears, for your insecurities. But knowing and witnessing how much it had affected you was a different story. “And because I believe in you. So then why would you do this?” If Yoongi had any mind to carry on pleading ignorance, after your confession, it had all gone out the window. Your words hit him like a ton of bricks, the love he harboured for you invading his thoughts and his heart like a tsunami. There was no way he could deny anything now, so he prayed that he would not have to be faced with the truth, one last attempt at avoiding it.

“Why would you leave me stranded like that?” Your shoulders slump, the fight leaving your body, and suddenly your knees feel like gelatin. You stumbled slightly, when a pair of arms wrapped themselves around you, pulling you tightly towards their chest.

“Because I love you, stupid.” The familiar scent of your best friend surrounded you and for the first time in a year, you smiled.

You’re brought back to the present by the warmth of a hand on your cheek. “Love, it’s getting late, and there is one more place we need to visit.” If you hadn’t known Yoongi for so long you would have missed the slight waver in his voice. But you were attuned to every little change in disposition so even the smallest hesitation that you could hear in his voice allerted you. Opening your eyes, you study his face, his pouty lips, the slightly uneven shape of his eyes, his nose, the way his hair falls onto his forehead. This was the man you loved and you would not have had it any other way. You reached out a finger slowly, his eyes following it closely, confused at your actions. When you were close enough to the tip of his nose you quickened your movement, poking his forehead without a warning. The astonishment is clear on his face and you can’t help but chuckle. “Right, where to mister?” You rise slowly on your feet, looking at him with curiosity. He didn’t mention a last spot before and you couldn’t think of any other places that you may have missed.

Taking your hand he guided you out of the court, watching you like a hawk as you descended the gate. Once out, he took your hand in his and beamed. “Where it all began.”

Reaching your final destination, your feet sunk in the soft sand, taking you nearer to the colourful monkey bars that stood proud in the middle of the playground. Twenty years had passed since you have met each other, yet nothing had changed. The sandbox was still full and remnants of castles blown by the wind were scattered around it. The sound of children playing games and running around still as much the soundtrack of the playground as it had been back then. The monkey bars looked old and rusty, however their colours were shining brightly in the light of the setting sun- clearly having been painted recently. The only difference from two decades ago stood out like a sore thumb. It was you and him. Still hand in hand at the playground, so similar to your seven year old selves and yet so different. This time you were not two children, setting out on a path of beautiful friendship, you were not even young lovers, giddy with the thrill of your first love, you were two grown ups, having gone through trials in life and love, ready to take on the world and whatever life handed you together.

You let go of his hand, the loss of heat instantly making you shiver, and you grabbed onto the top of the bar, struggling to lift your legs up. Yoongi laughed at you but at your whines he hurried to help you, grabbing you by your thighs, giving them a push. Now wrapped around the bars like a monkey, your head hanging upside down, you let your head drop and closed your eyes. The utter bliss that surrounded you alongside the warmth of the setting sun made you smile in contentment. “Hey Yoongi.” You called out for him, but after a few seconds had passed and you received no response you opened your eyes scanning your surroundings confusedly. He was nowhere in your sight, and for a second doubt gripped at your heart. Had he left without telling you?

Scouring the playground you let your legs drop to the ground. You did not know whether it was the impact of your feet touching the ground, the thrill of jumping off the monkey bar or the fact that as soon as you turned around, he was there less than a feet away from you, a gentle smile on his face, his hand extended towards you- but your heart felt like it would explode. With the feelings coursing through your veins too much to contain, your lips twitched. You wanted to scold him for disappearing out of your sight, you wanted to run into his arms and kiss him senseless, so confused at your own thoughts that you stayed rooted on the spot gaping at him like a fish out of water.

“Love?” The tender look never leaving his face, the corners of his lips twitched. He took a step closer to you, with each step the heaviness of his pocket reminding him of his mission. Taking your hand in his gently, he ran his thumb over your knuckles, the action sending shivers down your spine. Blinking repeatedly at him you closed your mouth, reminding yourself to breathe, as it seemed that you had forgotten how to. The sight of him encased by the low light of the dawn, his light blonde hair reflecting the golden hues creating a halo around him, was enough to take your breath away. The pads of his fingers gently traced up your hand until they reached your wrist, wrapping around it and gently pulling you along.

You did not question him, your feet moving of their own accord. You followed him blindly out of the playground back towards the cement pathway, as you had for the past twenty years of your relationship. Coming to a stop on the pavement where you once shared your hopes and dreams in chalk, he grabbed both of your hands. His distress was instantly evident in the way they trembled, the clammy grip he had on you, similar to the one you had on him all those years ago. Giving him a reassuring squeeze, you waited for what he had to say, your brain going into overdrive.

“Close your eyes.” His voice is soft, so unlike the tough persona he displayed for the public, yet so much like the Yoongi that you have grown up with. You slowly close your eyes, and for a few seconds all you hear is silence, until a rustle draws your attention. You can’t feel his hands on yours anymore and you drop them to the side, patiently waiting for him to allow you to open your eyes. Your ears perked up at the sound of scraping, the softness of the sound rhythmic as if it followed the beat of your heart. As soon as the noise started trailing Yoongi’s voice broke you out of your trance, and this time, the tone of his voice demanded attention, so when he told you to open your eyes you did so without hesitation.

Your eyes locked onto his, the love and adoration in them washed over you in waves, making you tremble with the intensity of it. His head tilted to the side, the smile pulling at the corners of his mouth and you knew in that moment that this was it for you, he was your forever and he would always be. “Y/N,” his voice carried over to you snapping you out of your daze, his head motioning to something in front of him. Slowly your eyes followed the movement and a small gasp escaped your lips, tears welling up in your eyes.

“Love.” That was enough to break the dam that held your feelings together and you all but dropped to the ground, sobs surging through your body. In panic Yoongi made a move to get to you, scenarios of you rejecting him playing out in his head. You did not try to stop him, basking in his warm embrace, lifting you up and giving you strength as he usually did. You closed your eyes letting another fresh trail of tears run down your face. “Love, please you are scaring me.” His voice broke, and he could feel the wetness gathering at the corner of his eyes. Your only response was to grab onto him tighter, hoping that if you brought yourself close enough to him, you would become one, and he would be able to understand how much love was running through your veins at the moment, how much respect and adoration, for the man that has constantly been by your side, the man who decided that playing with chalk that fateful day was what he had wanted, the man who decided that your loud mouth was worth loving and kissing every morning and every night. You broke away from his embrace to glance once more at the pavement. Feeling a new wave of tears gather in your eyes making your vision blur, you quickly wiped them away.

“Yes.” You sniffed as you looked up, your eyes locked with Yoongi’s teary ones. “Yes you silly man.” His smile widened little by little, until all you can see are his cheeks and his teeth. “Really?” the elatedness was apparent in his voice and in that moment you do not see a twenty eight year old man, you see the seven year old whose hand you took; the child with a broken leg you dragged along to play with you. The child whose hand you would take each year; the child whose hand would become your anchor, the hand you would get to hold forever. Nodding erratically you wrapped your arms around his neck, your lips finding his.

As you kissed under the setting sun, two united souls, the sidewalk chalk writing next to you told the story of your future.

‘Will you marry me?’

Main Masterlist

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nowimyurdaisy · 4 years ago

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Just Best Friends pt 2

pairing: Jess Mariano x reader

warnings: bit of suggestiveness at the end. and maybe some grammar mistakes.

summary: part two of Just Best Friends

authors note: hope you like how I ended it. I know it is short, but it's short and sweet 😊.

part 1 part 2

He sprints as fast as he can. Where the heck am i going? y/n’s go to y/n’s you need to tell her. Tell her what? that your in love with her? She doesn’t like me that way, right? She literally told me to ask rory out. Oh well to late, he thinks realising that he is standing on the front doorstep of, your house.

Ding! You hear your doorbell ring. Who could it be at this hour? It’s 9 pm most people in Stars Hollow are at there houses getting ready for bed right about now. You pause the movie and get up to answer the door. You open it, standing there is Jess. “Jess?” you ask in shock, what is he doing here, you where sure him and rory where probably getting all lovey dovey right about now.

“I had to see you” jess says out of breath.

“Ok, come in” you say confused. “Is there something you want to tell me? Or am i just supposed to guess why you showed up at my doorstep, when you where just on a date?” you ask.

“I, I, um, ok here it goes” he takes a deep breath, “I like you”

“Of course you do silly, we are friends” you reply, rolling your eyes.

Ok, this isn’t going well, he thinks, “no y/n, i like like you, i’m” he breaths in, “in love with you” he spits out.

“What?” you say dumbfounded with this confession. “Yo-your in love w-with me?”

“Yes” jess says squeakily looking at the ground, worried that this reaction meant that you didn’t like him like that.

“I’m in love with you too” you say after a few seconds of silence. His head snaps up, staring into your eyes. Which makes your heart flutter as always, except this time with hope of being more than friends.

“C-can i kiss you?” jess says taking a step closer to you.

“Yes” you breath out. Leaning upwards, as his lips capture yours.

You humm, kissing each other passionately. He walks to the couch and you both collapse on it, continuing to kiss, as he places soft kisses along your neck.

“Jessss” you moan his name.

“y/n?” he moans, detaching his lips from your skin and looking you in the eyes. “I love you” he says softly.

“I love you too, jess” you reply and kiss him again, turning off the movie and focusing on him. Kissing him passionately and him kissing passionately back, as things escalate quickly. You both fall asleep later in your bed with smiles on your faces.

join my taglist :) (i mean only if you want)

#jess mariano x reader #jess mariano #jess mariano x y/n #rory gilmore #gilmore girls x reader #gilmore girls #omggggg #Just Best Friends #jess kiss 💋 meeee #😘😘

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sorry-i-ship-drarry · 4 years ago

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30. Scared, potter ?

Prompt used- Grabbing onto their arm | FLUFF | Draco finally reveals how he fell in love with harry | can't believe I've already reached 30 days with these prompts.

Laughter cackled into the room with people draco had enormously grown to love. It's weird how fast time flies when you are surrounded by people who care about you regardless of how many shit days you may have and draco was a happy victim of it. All his life he had never cared for anyone else, treated them as if they were nothing untill he himself felt like one of those people, what it felt like to be nothing and he hated every second of it and when finally life gave him a second chance by a simple act of fate, he rose out the person who was completely opposite of who he used to be and he was proud of it and more proud were the people who once had hated him. It was a miracle how draco was sat amongst these people now, but he could not be more happier to reach where he is today and everyone he have right now. 5 years of learning, progress, trying to clear his name, he had finally became the person he wanted to be and love, it was just a small Miracle that happened by his side, so unpredictable but exactly what he needed and if there was one person who struck through it all was none other than, harry james Potter. His so called arch nemesis.

He met harry by a very simple mistake actually. One day he was serving coffee in a muggle coffee shop to pay his rent and the next day he knew he had almost been fired for spilling coffee over someone, and obviously that someone had to be harry. They got to talking about how different lives were, how difficult and yet they had the most complex similarities. It took harry exactly 9 months and 3 days during draco's final trials to get a job for him in the auror office, claiming if they didn't take him it would one of the most stupid choice they'd ever make because they'd lose a brilliant mind. Draco's first instincts were obviously disliking harry for doing something like that for him and maintained distance as much as he could but showed his gratitude in different ways like anonymously sending harry his favourite deserts every Friday and cup of coffee every morning. It wasn't until they both had been paired up for a mission related to a death Eater that they collided once again. According to the recruiters, it was important they had someone who was familiar with the death Eater ways, draco and a person they feared the most who vanquished the dark lord, harry. One scene to another, the tension building up one day led them into fighting and eventually resulted in them not talking until during the end of the mission when Draco got fatal injury, not because of the case but because of a muggle driver basically hitting draco. Eventually harry had to assign the mission to officials under him and draco being on bed rest, since it was a muggle injury and treating it the wizarding ways could've possibly been a hindrance in his 100 percent recovery.

And now this is where they are, sitting on top of the grimauld place, on its roof , lit up by almost 70 golden fairy lights, sheltered by a silver tent with a bunch of their friends and families assembled for the rehearsal dinner, or so the muggle called. It was just a last party from harry potter and draco malfoy.

Neville clinked his work lightly on his champagne glass raising it " Time for toast"

Draco cleared his throat grabbing attention from everyone across the table. Harry looked at him, bewildered since he definitely didn't knew Draco planned this.

" I'd like to take a few moments from all of you for this. I- I am blessed to have you all in my life and I met most of you when my life hit rock bottom and through it all, you guys have supported me unconditionally and I'm forever in debt for that"

They all raised their glasses in appreciation.

" and to you harry, tomorrow morning I will be pronouncing my vows and I know we've practically written them together, I can assure you no words are ever enough to what I feel for you. I've met you by a simple act of fate and it is my choice to choose my destiny to spend the rest of my life loving you just like you love me.

I met harry 6 years 3 months and exactly 25 days ago. I was merely counting the days of my life to make it through all of it and by far that day had been a huge blessing. A lot of you have asked me when did I realise I was in love with him and I've Always said that it was somewhere along the way but the truth is I have been saving this answer my whole life for this specific day. 3 years ago when I got hit by a car and had stitches up and down my body, 2 fractures and almost a broken nose, thank goodness for that though, I love my nose, harry being the absolute gentlemen he is, dropped the damn case to take care of my lousy ass. So this one day during my 1 month bed rest, harry had been late and I was absolutely glad he was because of ego issues, I heard my bell rang, I got up and took sometime to reach the door and by the time I had even checked who it was, the person had left, leaving a parcel in my letter box. Being me, I went downstairs to pick it up and just as I started to go back upstairs, a floor below mine I almost rolled down the stairs and guess who was the knight in shining armour, harry. He ranted the hell out of me for choosing to do that and simply grabbed my hand, put it around his neck and carried me back up. The entire day he kept bashing on about what would've happened if he wasn't there. That's when I fell In love. It wasn't magical or something as people describe it, I felt what I had been deprived of my whole life, care and love. The way he just went on and on about it, just showed me how much he cared and the same exact night he stayed over claiming he is never leaving my fucking ass alone, guess he took that too seriously by the way, I fell in love that night of him scolding me. And that's the answer I've saved up all these years. And I'm pretty sure harry is still never leaving my fucking ass alone if in future I get injured, just the consequences and situations would be far different " and draco raised his glass again.

" to harry and draco " Ron grinned, his arms wrapped around Blaise's waist.

" to harry and draco " everyone cheered

" to us " they silently whispered smiling at each other, with a look in their eyes, that was simply just their own, their love.

" I actually can't believe you took an entire minute to make this speech with basically no phrases such as electricity running through or how admirable harry looked. I means it's all sorta sparky " Ron joked. A few people around him laughed too including harry and draco.

As time went on, when everyone was almost done with dinner and simply hanging away slow dancing, chatting, making jokes, harry intertwined his fingers with those of draco's under the table and rested his head against draco's shoulder. Draco looked on his side to see his fiance finding his comfort in his neck. Smiling to himself, draco pressed a long kiss on top of Harry's head, bringing their hands to his lips and kissing over Harry's knuckles before resuming laughing at yet another one of Ron's jokes.

By midnight everyone had started to go downstairs in the house to crash over and a few of them leaving. Finishing up with the cleaning harry and draco too finally departed to their seperate bedrooms as per before marriage rituals. It was almost half an hour later when Draco heard a soft knock on his door. He opened the door cautiously to find harry standing there with a small smile.

" breaking the rules as usual " draco smirked as he turned around to let harry in behind him.

" well, that's just who I am. Besides your room have a nice balcony. Could use it " harry said as he shut the door softly and followed draco.

Draco finally turned smiling at his fiance, just staring at harry until he pulled them into the balcony, letting the moon wash over their bodies, making Harry's eyes sparkle more and draco's hair looking softer than usual.

" can you actually believe, we're getting married in less than 24 hours " draco said as he looked at the sky.

" it doesn't seem so different, does it ?" Harry asked as he stepped closer to draco and grabbing his hands to intertwine their fingers again.

" it doesn't " draco smiled as he kissed Harry's forehead. He too smiled at Draco and finally hugged draco, his arms hanging loosely around his waist , his head rested against draco's chest to hear the faint loveliest sound of his heartbeat. Draco put his chin on top of Harry's head, his arms too hanging loosely around Harry's back and just staying there like that.

" can I ask you something ?" Harry finally asked after moments of silence while watching the moon, different memories, different thoughts running in their own heads.

Draco hummed in response. Harry looked up at Draco, staring blankly as if he was trying to find something, but there was no freckle or a mole or anything left on draco's face yet for him to discover. He knew Draco better than he knew himself and it was just a small proud achievement.

" during that speech, you said something about saving your answer for this day, did you know we'd ever reach this far ?"

Draco pouted looking behind harry deciding on how to phrase it.

" I didn't. If this were to ever end, the secret would've died with me but I knew the only time I'd ever reveal it would the day before our marriage. And I did "

" so you Always wanted to get married ?"harry asked curiously in a Playful way.

" I think yeah. I never had anything close to having what we have, I'd had been a fool not to imagine whatever comes next " draco smiled at harry fondly, his hands tightening around his waist.

Harry looked at Draco amazed. Despite being together for so long, being with each other was Always a different adventure each day and this was their kind of adventure.

" when did you knew you loved me ?" Draco finally asked not looking away from harry.

" well- I think it was during the time you joined DMLE. Those deserts every Friday and the cup of coffee, they had the same handwriting on the Little notes you put into the desert box and on the coffee cup, I knew they were from you long before you told me, courtesy of stalking you all around 6th year "

" So you were obsessed with me " draco teased smirking.

" whatever helps you sleep at night " harry chuckled before he pressed his head against draco's chest again and stayed there in silence until harry had finally gone to his own bedroom, as silently as he had came.

The next day when harry and Draco finally stood against each other on the alter, after the vows, the ring ceremony, the speeches, the minister finally claimed

" I now pronounce you husband and husband, you may kiss each other "

Harry smirked at Draco holding his hands

" scared potter ?"

" you wish, Malfoy " draco smirked back.

And then they kissed, promising an eternity of love that even this life wasn't enough..

Requests open. This might be one of my favourite ones.

Day 29- sweet, sexy and practically fainting | Day 31- would you come back to me

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house-of-cakes · 4 years ago

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Jamais Vu

Masterlist || Series Masterlist

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Chapter 17: Gimme! Gimme! Gimme

Jungkook x Reader: enemy to lovers AU

Word count: 2164

Warnings: Swearing and mentions of slight bullying

Premise: “There’s an opposite to déjà vu. They call it jamais vu. It’s when you meet the same people or visit places, again and again, but each time is the first. Everybody is always a stranger… Nothing is ever familiar” – Chuck Palahniuk, Choke

AKA Jungkook goes in search of the girl who got him expelled.

I feel so bad posting late that I wrote a bonus chapter 😅 the extra chapter will be out this weekend.

If you would like to give feedback or be tagged in this story please send me an ask/message 😊

Tagged list: @inspinkyring @betysotelo18 @kardia-apo-marmelada @casspirit0705 @preciouschimine @therealsugababe @lucedelsole97 @deolly @lexy9716 @thesweetest-peas @sannsia

Bright flashing lights…catchy retro theme songs…the loud cheers of victory from teenage boys and girls defeating their opponents – these were the ingredients that made up Y/N’s favourite place in the world. While Namjoon found comfort on the stage, she felt most at home under the glowing neon lights of Reload.

A few years ago, Y/N had found the arcade a by chance after she had “run away” from home. She had just had an argument with her mother about her appearance and after countless moments of nagging and insults she had finally snapped and left home without permission…it was her first act of rebellion.

Y/N’s mother was fixated on looks and how a “lady” should behave and present themselves. She always claimed that Y/N she be focusing on her physical imagine instead of having her face hidden behind a computer screen. It killed her mother that her youngest child spent all of her free time working in a place she deemed to be so juvenile. Y/N knew this for a fact and if she was being honest it only added to the appeal of working there. The job didn’t pay much nonetheless she loved it just as much as she did the Magic Shop.

A young boy runs through the arcade and finds Y/N sat on top of an air hockey table (a privilege that only she was allowed). Her attention is focused on her phone, trying to keep tabs on her best friends who are working a job without her. It was not very often that she could not attend an appointment however her elderly boss had caught a cold and there was no one else to cover the busy Friday night shift.

“Noona.” The soft whimper of the young boy catches her attention. “What’s wrong, buddy?” She jumps off the table and kneels so that she is eye level with the child “A-an older-r b-boy…” his words are choppy as his small body shakes with sobs “Stole my game.” “That wasn’t very nice of him. Can you point him out so Noona can have a chat with him.” The little boy continues to whimper but with some comforting words of reassurance and 5 free game tokens, she is able to convince him to point in the direction of the most popular first-person shooter game towards the back of the arcade.

“Thank buddy, that was very brave of you. I promise you in 10 minutes the game will be free for you to play.” She wipes the last of his tears and ruffles his hair for good measure “Come find me soon, ok?” The boy sniffling boy nods as Y/N quickly makes her way to the other side of the room.

At the game Y/N stands off to the side of the machine and pauses to analyse the teenage boy and his skill. The teen would get easily flustered each time a surge of villains would rush after his character and he would frequently let out a string of cuss words whenever he missed his mark, he was an amateur and it showed.

Suddenly his life bar at the top right of he screen started flashing, indicating that his game would soon end if he was not careful with his energy. This must have been enough motivation for him to focus better because his kill streak went from 3 to 9 in almost an instance. A wicked plan formed in Y/N’s head as she he went in for the last shot of the level.

“Hey!” she called out to him causing him to flinch and miss his target. This caused a fatal error as the enemy on screen took the opportunity to shoot his character right in the face. The teen let out a sound of frustration as the screen read ‘Game Over’ in giant letters and request more tokens to continue. Y/N waited for him to insert the coins before making her presence known in front of him.

“You stupid bitch! You made me lose my game.” He grumbled and lift his gun to continue playing. Y/N reached over to the power point behind the game and switched it off.

“Get the fuck out of my arcade.” She spat and point towards the exit “Reload has a strict no bullying policy so don’t think for a second you’re getting a refund on those tokens.” The teen didn’t bother arguing, he has realised his mistake when he figured out who she was and walked away looking rather embarrassed he had been called out in front of everyone on a busy Friday night. He was sure his class mates would all be talking about it come Monday morning.

The screen of the machine flickered back to life as Y/N switched the power back on, she waited to make sure that the unexpected reboot did not affect the game. The download bar reached the end of the bar and loaded the high score screen. She read over the listed and frowned when she got to a name that had been annoying her lately – Nochu.

This Nochu person had climb two positions high on the leader board since the last time she had checked this game and the achievement displeased her. That name was popping up on the leader boards of many games recently and while she did not feel her abilities were being threatened, she was annoyed that she could not put a face to this person.

Hours later back at the Kim residence, the two cousins enjoy the cooling weather on their porch as Jin attempts to tune his guitar by ear.

“The Basement wasn’t closed tonight.” Jungkook states when he scrolls through his Instagram feed and comes across a new post by the club “I never said it was.” Jin pays no attention to his cousin, instead he fiddles with the knobs at the head of guitar and plucks at a string once he believes he’s tightened the key enough. The sound rings out and the pitch is too high. “So why did we go to Reload instead?” Jin repeats the process with the chord again, the pitch is closer to where its supposed to be however the sound is still off. “None of the guys had a battle or a performance tonight.” He explained as he plucked at the string again and again, trying to pin point why it sounded wrong “And Y/N had to work, so we decided to hang with her instead.” “So we went for Y/N?” Jungkook tone was accusatory “No one forced you to tag along.” Jin fired back, he had stopped trying to tune the guitar to face him “She’s always supports the guys at the Basement, sometimes we repay the favour by making an appearance there to help drum up business.” Jungkook scoffed “You told me Reload was popular because she attracts people with her skills…if that’s the case why would she need you guys?” “She doesn’t need us at all.” Jin moved his guitar from his lap and lent it against his seat. He was frustrated with it and this conversation was adding to the stress. “That’s the thing about having a good relationship with people…you do things to support them, even when they don’t ask.” “Oh yeah? If she’s so good why is she only ranked second on all the high scores.” Jin rolled his eyes at his cousin, he was being petty again and completely missed the point he was trying to make. “Mr S.K?” Jungkook nodded in confirmation.

Jungkook was becoming a regular at Reload and it was evident to him that Mr S.K was clearly the real champion of the joint. The guy had dominated every game of the arcade by holding highest score and while Y/N’s name always sat below his, her score was always miles away from meeting his. To Jungkook this was clearly another instance of Y/N receiving praise and adoration where it was not merited… it was Mr S.K who deserved to celebrated and yet it was Y/N who stole his popularity. If he had to come up with an explanation as to how this occurred, he would bet all his money it was because Y/N was considered to be “beautiful”.

“Mr S.K has held the top for as long as anyone can remember. There’s no mystery to who he is…He’s obviously the owner of the arcade.” Jin windshield wiper boomed out and filled the stillness of the night as his cousin’s face fell.

Jungkook pondered on the last few weeks, there was so much background information he didn’t know and for some reason his brain chose to fill in the gaps by somehow hating on Y/N.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a car blaring loud music as it sped up and down the street.

“What the fuck is going?!” Jungkook exclaimed as he stood from his seat and made his way to the top of the porch stairs to get a better look at car. “Ah my Angel is home!” Jin jumped up and went to stand next to Jungkook. “Does she always carry on like this? She drives like a dipshit.” “Nah, that’s not even her driving. You see a while back she got caught at the illegal races, her parents made her sell her car as punishment... She must have gotten into a fight with her mother, this is how she always gets back her.”

The car finally stopped doing laps down the street and pulled up into Y/N’s drive away. The pair watched as Y/N jumped out of the passenger side of the car and wave to the driver as they pulled away from the house. She was still unaware that she was being watched by them

“Hey Brat!” Jin called out, capturing her attention “Didn’t your mother ever tell you not take rides from strangers?”

Jungkook’s breathe hitched at the thought of Y/N allowing herself to be in a car with a stranger, especially someone who drove like a lunatic. He didn’t catch a glimpse of the driver but surely, she wasn’t reckless enough to put herself in such a dangerous situation…was she?

“She did, that’s what make’s it all the better.” Y/N bantered on smugly, Jungkook couldn’t figure out if she was joking or not. “Well it’s past your bed time young lady, you march right on inside and get right to bed.” Y/N let out a sound of fake indignation and clutch her hand to her check overdramatically. “To think I raced all the way here with a surprise and this is how you treat me? You really are such a punk!” “A surprise?!” Jin’s eyebrows shot up in excitement, the façade dropped immediately. Everyone knew she gave the best surprises. “Gimme! Gimme! Gimme!” he demanded and waved her over to them. Y/N laughed at his eagerness and rummaged through her bag as she closed the distance between them.

“Sorry I didn’t have time to wrap it.” She purposely handed him a grey game cartridge face down so there was some kind of element of surprise to the gift. His eyes widen comically when he turned it over and read the title of the game. “Y/N…is this…??” For the first time in Jungkook’s life he had seen his loud mouth cousin speechless. “Yah! Don’t make a big deal of it.” She tried to brush it off “Consider it an extremely late birthday gift.” “Not a big deal? This is the original Super Mario Bros 3! I played this game every day as a kid then this idiot blew it up somehow.” He nodded his head in Jungkook’s direction who rolled his eyes in response.

The incident happened years ago and he still hadn’t heard the end of it, he pretended like it didn’t bother him but deep down he felt so bad for accidentally destroying something his cousin held so dear to him.

“I’ve been trying to find it ever since! This must have cost you a fortune.” “Like I said…it’s no big deal. I was cleaning out storage at work and found it packed away, we never got round to fixing game console for it so the boss-man was nice enough to let me have it.”

That was a bold-faced lie.

Y/N had known about the sentimental significance this game had to Jin and went in search for it many months before his birthday. She only managed to get the game after she traded a set of mint condition baseball cards, she had acquired as collateral when a client fell through their end of a deal.

“Y/NIEEE this is why you’re my angel! Thank you so much.” He pulled her towards him and wrapped her up in a big bear hug. Jungkook felt out of place as he watched Y/N shriek and attempt to struggle out of his grip as he showered her with love…he could help but feel jealous of the fact that she could fix a mistake that he had made so long ago.

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