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nereidprinc3ss · 6 months ago

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do you believe me now? | 5

in which spencer reid and fem!reader are reunited, but the worst kind of sparks are flying. you meet a man named randall. derek morgan buys you a drink (sort of). it seems that some things can't be unsaid.

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this series is 18+ warnings/tags: r goes to a bar but doesn't drink alcohol, gets hit on by weird men, dramatic, angst, sorry in advance a/n: surprise! i'll see myself out. love you! lmk your thoughts on this bad boy! i KNOW you'll have some! i'm locking all my doors and the cops are on speed dial after posting this. stay tuned for part six tho

You don’t call Spencer for four days.

Spencer doesn’t call you for four days.

It’s scary.

There’s some texting—mostly him giving you updates on how things are going and when he expects to be back. Mostly you giving the messages a thumbs up and saying nothing else.

Finally, on Thursday afternoon, his ringtone (the Bill Nye theme) makes you jump as you’re sitting on your bed staring into space.

His caller ID photo—which is simply his passport photo, because you’d thought it was adorable—stares at you. You stare back. Contemplate not picking up.

But you’re not quite there yet.

And you cannot keep listening to Bill Nye the Science Guy.

The answer button is cold under your thumb, but not as cold as your greeting.

“Hi.”

You barely recognize your own voice.

It seems to send Spencer for a loop as well, because his reply is halting.

“Hey! Hi, um—how are you? I feel like we’ve barely talked this week.”

That would be because you told me my feelings for you are stronger than your feelings for me and I don’t know how to stop making every single word I say secretly mean I love you. We can’t have a conversation without me loving you. It will always be in the room or on the phone with us. To ignore the presence of it is impossible, and I don’t know if I can ignore the absence of yours, either.

“Uh… yeah. I’m fine. What’s up?”

There’s a pause.

“We wrapped up this morning. We’re getting on the jet here in a few minutes, and, um—I know it’s not ideal, but we missed Derek’s birthday and Penelope is insisting we all go to his favorite bar tonight. And he told me that for his birthday he wants to meet you. So… would you be up for that?”

“You want… to take me to a bar?”

“No. I mean—I know it’s not really your thing, but we missed Derek’s birthday three years in a row, and—and I understand if you don’t want to meet him tonight, but we wouldn’t have to stay very long and I really, really shouldn’t skip it. Derek has saved my life on more than one occasion.”

“You could go without me.”

More silence. Every second hurts, but you don’t understand why he wants you to come meet his best friend if he thinks the two of you are in different places emotionally.

But maybe he’s not going to break up with you just yet. Maybe he’s going to keep inviting you to bars and foreign film festivals and bookshops. Maybe he’s going to treat you exactly the same as he always has but with this new added layer of knowledge that the way he treats you isn’t actually love, and it never was, and you’re not sure if it has the potential to ever become love. Because if it did—wouldn’t it have already? What more do you have to offer than what you’ve already given him?

Breakup or no breakup, you feel sick.

When he speaks his tone is similarly chilly. It’s welcome. You want him mad. If he can’t reciprocate your adoration, then the very least he can do is have the decency to reciprocate your reproach.

“I could. Is that what you want?”

No. I don’t want any of this. I need you to know me well enough to know that. And if you can’t love me then at least get angry. At least show me you feel something other than passive contentment.

“Yeah. Sure. I don’t know.”

A pause stretches so long your heart pounds. You watch the elapsed time of the call tick by, second by second, and you wait for the anticipation to crack under the weight of silence, to give way to some terrible jump scare or to give way at all.

But the words that end the conversation (if you can even call it that) aren’t any great relief. They’re just sad, and chalk full of defeat.

“Alright. I’ll… I’ll call you later.”

You feel like you’ve swallowed an ice cube. All the words you’d like to say are frozen in your stinging throat.

“Okay. Um… I’ll let you board now.”

“The jet’s not…” but he trails off. When he speaks again he sounds just as hurt as you’d wanted—and it doesn’t make you feel better at all. “Okay. Bye.”

“Bye.”

The line goes dead, and your face is burning as tears fill your eyes for the hundredth time this week. That call was terrible and poisonous and you don’t feel like yourself.

Things have gone so wrong so quickly, and all you know how to do is ice him out so he can’t do it to you first. But it’s not going to make this better. No matter how mean you are to him, at the root of it all you feel unloved and scared and alone and Spencer knows things about love and relationships that you don’t. He’s confusing you with all this talk of feeling differently about each other and I’ll be home tomorrow I miss you and things get complicated when one person likes the other more and let’s talk in person and will you come meet my best friend tonight. All of it leaves you motion sick and ugly crying in the fetal position.

All you have to get through this is who you’ve always been, a little of the person you’ve become, and the love you harbor for Spencer which rattles around in your chest like a nail in an empty toolbox. At the moment it hardly seems helpful. It mocks you, pointing out the pathetic hilarity of your paradox. The only person who can comfort you, the person you want more than anything, is the reason you’re so upset in the first place. But you can’t help being drawn to him.

Maybe the love you have for Spencer is more like a magnet in a compass.

Even if he doesn’t feel it for you, you do love Spencer. And that goes beyond just loving the parts of him that like you. To hide from that love would be a gross disservice to yourself and all the work you’ve done to get here. It’s not as if you suddenly know exactly what the answer is—but you’re sure that hiding is the most childish, cowardly thing you could do and the furthest you could get from a resolution. Even if you can’t make him love you back, you refuse to allow yourself to fizzle quietly out of his life. This relationship deserves something more than that.

So maybe you don’t have a plan when you wipe your eyes and pick up your phone. Maybe there’s no strategy behind your actions as you text Garcia for the bar location. But if you keep running from everything you’ll never get anywhere. All you can do is show up. It seems like the next best step.

------

The pub isn’t too crowded—but for a Thursday night, you suppose it’s a bit busy.

Boot heels hooked onto the metal foot-beam of the stool you’re sitting on, elbows resting on the polished mahogany surface of the bar, you’re staring into an untouched mixed drink. Then you glance down the bar to your right, at the man who’d bought it for you.

Maybe your ensemble gave him the wrong idea.

Coming to this gathering had required bravery, and you came armored. Your ensemble projects significantly more confidence than you’re currently feeling. It was intentional, a form of self-protection—but now you’re wondering if it’s projecting a little too much confidence.

All done up, clearly still a little rough around the edges, and sitting alone at a bar was bound to draw the wrong pairs of eyes.

“Hey, darlin’,” the gruff man says, approaching when you inadvertently catch his gaze. “Are you gonna drink that, or should I? Otherwise I’m lookin’ at eleven dollars right down the drain.”

You avert your eyes, scanning the groups dotted here and there.

“I’m waiting for friends.”

“Does that make a free drink less appealing?”

He takes the stool next to you, off-gassing the scent of cigarettes and leather.

“I’m not drinking.”

“Really? I’ve never seen a girl who looks as sad as you do come sit at the bar to stay sober.”

You frown, looking back up at the man next to you. He seems like the Hell’s Angels type—tattooed knuckles, leather jacket, grey beard, and a weathered face that’s clearly spent decades with the sun. Fifties, maybe younger and just looks more rugged. What does it say about how I look tonight that this is the kind of man I’m attracting, you wonder. Maybe you look desperate and just as lonely as you feel. As he claims you do.

“I’m not sad.”

“Alright. I’ll take your word for it. But a happier girl wouldn’t be all alone.”

“I’m waiting for friends,” you repeat, letting the words drip like venom from your tongue.

“I’m Randall. See? Now we're friends.”

“I don’t need more friends. I like the ones I have.”

Something catches Randall’s attention long enough to catch yours. He raises his bottle vaguely, gesturing beyond your shoulder.

“Are those angry lookin’ guys in the suits marching right over here the friends you’re talking about?”

You turn your head, brows furrowed, and immediately see the gentlemen to whom your new pal is pointing out.

Spencer is storming across the bar looking close to furious (which for him, means an expression so placid it gives you chills) followed by Derek Morgan—a man who you’ve only seen pictures of and is even more impressive in person.

You hate how your breath catches, how your heart is already beating a little faster than usual at the sight of him even though you’re not exactly pleased with each other right now.

Suddenly the bubbles in your cocktail are once again fascinating.

“Those are the ones.”

“And why are they dressed for church?”

Church?

“They’re FBI.”

“Ah. My lucky fuckin’ day.”

You almost snort.

“Hey,” Spencer says sternly, hand settling on your back as he partially fills the small space between you and the strange man. “Who’s this?”

You shrug, sit up a little straighter, and take a shallow breath—not because you’re scared of this man but because Spencer is suddenly so close to you and you can feel his warmth and the air bending around him and the scent of him is genuinely dizzying to you.

“Randall,” you exhale unenthusiastically. But the odd thing is that you’re rather grateful for Randall’s presence. Because now Spencer is here and you have no idea what you’re going to say to him.

“Oh,” Randall says, sipping his beer unhurriedly before using it to gesture to Spencer. “You’re the boyfriend. You know, that’s funny, because she didn’t mention a boyfriend.”

“I didn’t mention anything. We weren’t having a real conversation.”

Randy holds his hands up defensively, fingers still wrapped around the neck of a sweating bottle.

“I’m just saying it’s in-ter-esting. Not trying to start anything.” He stands, pauses for another sip—Spencer obviously isn’t sure what to make of this man because he says nothing. “But listen, man to man—you better buy her some flowers or a real pretty fuckin’ necklace or somethin’ because a happy girl in a happy relationship does not come pout at the bar all by herself.”

“Get out of here, man,” Derek finally speaks up.

“Yeah, yeah.” He sets his empty bottle down and fishes in his pocket for a cigarette, sticking it between his lips. “But—just for the record—I have a wife. I wasn’t gonna do anything weird. Sometimes when you’re my age you just gotta live a little. Buy a pretty girl a drink. Piss off some Mormons, or whatever the fuck you are.”

This guy sounds like a bad Bruce Springsteen song. But part of you would almost rather hang out with Randall than be forced into a conversation you’re not prepared for with Spencer.

And whose fault is that, you remind yourself. You decided to come be mature. Suck it up.

“Goodnight,” Derek emphasizes.

Spencer doesn’t say a word. You can feel his eyes boring smoking holes into the side of your face, and you look anywhere else.

“I’ll be here next week after physical therapy like clockwork,” the stranger waves as he ambles away—but not before pointing at you. “You enjoy that drink, friend. And don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

What a weird man.

There’s silence for a moment—in which Spencer refuses to stop watching you and you refuse to acknowledge that.

“And here I was thinking Spencer made you up.” Derek has a beautiful smile and a warm, charming cadence as he holds out his hand for you to shake. “I’m Derek.”

You take the proffered hand and shake, offering him a shy smile and introducing yourself in kind.

“Happy birthday, by the way. Sorry for crashing your party.”

Really, he’s stunning.

“Thank you, sweetheart. And you’re not crashing anything. I told pretty boy here I wanted to meet you the second he started talking about a friend. But nah, he just wanted to talk and talk and talk about you—”

“Alright,” Spencer mumbles, blushing, eyes finally torn from your profile. You smile slightly, brows knitting as Derek magically melts some of the terrible tension.

“Pretty boy?”

Before either of them can explain, someone shrieks in your general direction. You startle backward in your seat, and Spencer steps closer, hand sliding up your back as Penelope, JJ, and Emily join your little huddle. For only a second you allow yourself to shrink into him—before you’re straightening your posture like your spine is a metal rod and his touch burns. It’s a knee-jerk defensive reaction for which you have no explanation. You can’t see him, but you don’t feel his hand on you again.

“Oh my god! Look at this beautiful person who I love!” Penelope exclaims, pushing past Derek to grab your face and kiss both of your cheeks. “Oh my god,” she says again, wiping sticky lipgloss away with her thumbs, “I totally meant to ask before I did that. But your face is just so kissable. I’m so glad you decided to come!”

“Hi, Penelope,” you smile half-heartedly, incapable of reciprocating her cheery mood. Fortunately, she’s cheery enough for a standard commercial flight’s worth of people, and probably thinks of Derek’s birthday as a national holiday—so she doesn’t pick up on this.

Emily and JJ offer you tamer although perfectly kind greetings.

“Ooh, what are you drinking?” Emily asks, leaning closer to examine the forgotten beverage in front of you.

“Not that,” Spencer mutters, grabbing the glass and sliding it away from you. You give him an affronted look—and immediately wish you hadn’t, since you’re meeting his eyes for the first time since he left. His words stall for just a moment as his eyes dart between yours before he’s saying, “you shouldn’t accept a drink if you didn’t watch someone make it.”

The audacity of him to be acting protective makes you scoff.

“That guy didn’t spike my drink. He was harmless.”

“People thought Ted Bundy was harmless, too.”

It’s such a ridiculous thing to say that you don’t even have a response—your eyes simply narrow and you shake your head. A claustrophobic silence falls over the small group.

“Okay…” JJ murmurs. “Um, do you guys want to go check out the jukebox with me? We have to play all of the birthday boy’s favorites.”

Several enthusiastic yeses go around, but you’re too busy having a stand off with your boyfriend to take much notice.

Soon, it’s just the two of you.

“Controlling isn’t a good look for you,” you finally say, spinning to rest your elbows on the bar once more and studying the bottles of liquor on the shelves beyond.

“Evasive and avoidant isn’t particularly flattering, either. I was under the impression that you had no intention of coming after that phone call earlier.”

You scoff again as your blood heats. Already the conversation is going worse than you’d expected—and your expectations were not high.

“Do you think the cab driver was a serial killer, too? Or maybe the bartender?”

He’s still behind you and slightly to the side—but he leans down, resting his own fists on the bar right next to you and speaking lowly, directly over your shoulder.

“Why don’t you try speaking to me like we’re adults instead of starting meaningless arguments in order to get under my skin?”

From him, that hurts.

It’s a branch on the tree of your greatest insecurity—the fear that you’re too inexperienced with relationships and that makes you too immature and he’s been lying every time he says it’s not an issue. Because of course it’s an issue. It’s why you fell in love with him, it’s why you don’t know how to fix it, and it’s why you’re incapable of actually expressing any of your feelings to him.

“Why do you think I’m here right now?” you whisper—as sharp and stinging as a poison dart. “I’m trying to be a fucking adult. I don’t want to be here.”

Silence.

“Then why did you come?”

His voice is so calm it burns like dry ice.

“Because! Because you asked me to, because—”

You can’t bring yourself to say it aloud.

Because I’m obviously still in love with you and I can’t just turn that off. I tried to do the right thing.

Instead you bury your face in your hands and let it hang in the air, unspoken. You know he knows. You just don’t know why he’s acting like you’re so unreasonable for being upset.

“Let me make this very clear to you,” Spencer murmurs, brushing your hair away from your ear so tenderly, speaking so softly you could convince yourself that he’ll say something kind. It’s the closest he’s been in days and now that he’s here you feel how much you missed him in your bones. And even though you sense a trap, you can’t help but sit up straighter. You’ll be complicit in your own undoing if it means you can have him close. His breath shakes slightly as he inhales and you brace as best you can. “Nobody is forcing you to be here. You told me you weren’t coming and then you decided to show up. I was ready to give you the space that you were too scared to ask me for. But I can only take responsibility for so much of what is ultimately your bad behavior and your adolescent volatility. You can only blame so much of your bad behavior on inexperience before I run out of patience because I don’t find thoughtlessness and emotional immaturity compelling. I told you that if there is a disparity in the way we feel for each other, that was fine, and I meant it. But if you can’t cope with how I feel about you then don’t let me hold you back. I am not holding you hostage. You can leave whenever you want. So don’t waste your time punishing me because you don’t want to be here. And if you do want to be here, good. I want that too. But act like an adult and make a decision. My leniency has limits, even for you. I am asking that you do not push it any further than you already have.”

You don’t know how long it’s been since your last breath by the time he finishes his address.

Long enough that you’re dizzy when you push away from the bar and shoulder through the throng of patrons as quickly as you reasonably can without outright running.

Long enough that when you burst out the door into the biting-cold night air, and finally take a deep, gasping breath, it burns and stings and aches and so does your head and your eyes as they well with hot, furious, heartbroken tears.

You speed-walk to the end of the block, hand clamped over your mouth to muffle your cries and all the curse words you’d love to scream.

Part of you knows you walked away from the bar in case he decided to try and follow you—but when you look over your shoulder the sidewalk is empty. You should’ve known better than to think he’d follow you after that. But at least it means you can have your breakdown by the relative safety of the bar, leaning your back against the dirty brick facade next to the entrance alcove and sliding down until your butt hits the cold concrete and you don’t even care.

Who the fuck was that man in the bar who looked like Spencer and sounded like Spencer but spoke to you like this is all your fault, like it’s your fault you love him and he doesn’t love you back, like it’s ridiculous that you’d be upset, like you’re cruel and petty for having feelings about it, about him—for having any fucking feelings at all? And to think that was the man who you let know you more intimately than anyone ever has. Every insecurity you’d ever admitted to him was hurled back in your face like it was nothing. Hell—he even handed you the ones you’d never mentioned. He proved every terrible thought you’ve been having about yourself right.

How could he be so unabashedly mean to you?

Spencer doesn’t have to love you. It seems clearer now than ever that he doesn’t. But part of you wonders if he suffered some sort of traumatic brain injury because that’s the only explanation for why he could go from treating you how he did before to treating you like he doesn’t even like you.

You feel like you might throw up.

“Called it,” a rasping, grumbling voice says from a few feet away.

You look up, and spot fucking Randall standing under a street light ten feet away, still smoking.

You go back to studying the tar spots on the sidewalk through bleary eyes. Pebbles sting as they press into your palms. Another one of the universe’s terrible jokes, you suppose. Just earlier you’d thought that you’d rather talk to Randall than Spencer and now here you are and here he is.

“That kid as much of a dipshit punk as I thought he was?”

Hearing Spencer described as a kid and a dipshit punk is so jarring you almost stop crying.

“He’s not a dipshit,” you sniff, voice thick with tears as you find yourself explaining Spencer Reid to this stranger for no reason at all. “He has an IQ of 187. He’s a genius.”

“Ah,” he scoffs dismissively, flicking ash from his cigarette. “Dipshit-ism don’t discriminate. Anyone can be one. Even your genius punk boyfriend. As a recovering dipshit myself I know what the work of a fellow dipshit looks like. And this has dipshit written all over it.”

You sob harder.

Randall speaks calmly around his cigarette.

“You know, I’m sorry for whatever you got goin’ on. But I’ve never not been the asshole when I got a hysterical woman in front of me. It’s nice that I can confidently say this time it is not my fault.”

The bar door opens, letting a warm burst of jovial music and chatter into the otherwise still night. Steps that are too heavy to be Spencer’s hit the concrete next to you—you look to your left and see Derek Morgan before he looks down and sees you.

“Hey—you okay out here?”

“Why don’t you go ask your Jehovah’s Witness buddy? He did this.”

Derek makes a face, locating the source of this interjection.

“Sir, I asked you to leave her alone once and I don’t appreciate being made to repeat myself. Are we clear?”

“Yeah, whatever. Fuck me for making friendly conversation, I guess. Gonna have to call my wife and tell her to pick me up down the street. I don’t want her on the damn phone while she’s driving.”

Randall wanders away again, still muttering to himself and smoking. Derek watches him go, staring daggers into his back until he turns his gaze to you.

Goodbye, Randall, you think. Great. Now I have neither of them.

“Hey,” he softens, crouching down to your level. “You okay?”

You sniff, wiping your cheeks and attempting not to smudge your makeup. It’s impossible not to feel awkward—you just met this guy and now he’s here trying to do emotional labor for you on his birthday.

“Yeah, I’m fine. This is embarrassing.”

“You don’t look fine. Can I do anything for you? Do you want some food? A drink?”

“You really don’t have to—”

“I know, I know. But look—Reid is always talking about you. You’re important to him, and he’s important to me. I’ve never seen him this happy and I’ve known that kid a long time. It is in my best interest that someone maintain you, and if it’s not him, it’ll be me. Call it a favor to him, if that makes you feel better.” Derek is sporting a slightly more modest Cheshire grin again by the end of his sentence. Listening to him speak that way about Spencer speaking about you, it’s impossible not to feel a teeny bit lighter. Even if you’re not entirely sure where you stand on all things Spencer related at the moment. “So I’ll ask you again. Is there anything I can do for you?”

You sniff again.

“Sure. A ginger ale or something might be good.”

“Got it. I’ll be back. And come inside if Randall tries to run up on you again, okay?”

Despite yourself you manage a laugh at the way he says the name. His warm smile flickers warmer at this.

“Will do.”

When Derek returns a few minutes later, the plastic cup he’s holding looks decidedly not like ginger ale.

“Penelope insisted that this is what you would want. I don’t even know.”

You smile slightly as you take the cup, full to the brim with bubbles and thick red syrup. A cherry bobs underneath the layer of cubed ice.

“Shirley temple,” you chuckle. “I’ll take it. Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome,” he says, flashing that brilliant smile again, and you look into your cup as you drink. Maybe your face warms just a bit. You’re still shy around men, you realize. Especially attractive ones. And Derek Morgan definitely qualifies as attractive.

“So,” he begins, and to your surprise, crouches down in front of you. “I have to be honest—I came out here in the first place because Reid sent me to check on you. But now I’m wondering what the hell he did.”

Spencer sent him. A considerate action that would theoretically signal his care for your feelings. You take another sip, staring into space and trying to digest this information, but it only jumbles with the rest to confuse you more.

Of course, you don’t know how to convey this to Derek in a way that’s not overly-familiar for just having met the man, so you go with an old standby.

“I’m probably just overreacting.”

“Uh-huh. I have sisters. I know what an overreaction looks like and if you were overreacting you wouldn’t be out here hiding. What’d he do?”

You can only keep up the facade of emotional stability for so long. Your chin wobbles in a horribly embarrassing way and you look down again.

“I’m not sure—I’m not sure if he really did anything or if I’m just being dramatic and I don’t want to make him seem—”

“Why don’t you stop defending him and just tell me what he did?” Derek urges. “Trust me—I love that kid to death. But I also know he can be a dick sometimes. You don’t need to worry about making him look bad in front of me.”

Part of you is glad Spencer has such a good friend on his side. And Derek is right—Spencer is an adult. You don’t need to worry about besmirching his reputation. So you take a shuddering sigh, staring into the red of your drink.

“He just doesn’t like me as much as I like him. Which isn’t his fault, like I said, but—he’s being such an asshole about it.”

Derek pulls a face, strong eyebrows making an impression as they knit.

“Did he tell you that?”

“Over the phone,” you nod emphatically. “And just now he gave me this whole fucking speech about how immature and horrible I am for not being 100% happy about it. And maybe he’s partially right, I mean—I know people feel things differently and maybe he just was asking for more time. I worry I fucked it up so bad because I couldn’t handle that—but at the same time he didn’t say he wanted more time. He was really fucking unclear and vague about what he wanted, and he asked me to come to this bar like it was nothing when I’ve been worried he was going to break up with me all week. So yeah, I guess he’s right and I have been a bitch about it because I was upset that he didn’t… like me as much. And I wanted him to feel bad because I was so embarrassed, and I also didn’t want to act like everything was normal if he was just going to dump me, I…” you realize you’ve been hardcore rambling and your face heats. “I don’t know.”

There’s a pause, and you worry you’ve done exactly the thing you didn’t want to, which was overshare to this man who seems like he’s significantly more normal and well-adjusted than you. You drink deeply, swallowing sugar and the rest of your words.

“That’s… bizarre. I don’t mean to invalidate your feelings, but… that just doesn’t make any sense.”

“Yeah,” you scoff, projecting annoyance so you won’t start crying again. “I was confused too. I thought he really liked me.”

“No, sweetheart, I’m saying—that doesn’t make sense because he does really like you. Really, really likes you, more than I’ve ever seen him like someone before. I mean, last week I finally finished that Tesla biography he’s been on my ass about for months and when I told him, all he wanted to do was talk about your thoughts on it. And then it wasn’t even about the book anymore. I have never, ever seen Reid pass up an opportunity to talk about Nikola Tesla. I’m talking never in my life. He finds a way to make every conversation about you. I can’t even follow the connections sometimes but he always finds a way.”

Your nose wrinkles.

“Sorry you’ve had to hear so much about me,” you mumble. Though you’re not really sorry. It feels good. A twinge of joy in all the murk.

“I’m not. Like I said, I’ve known Spencer for a long time and I’ve never seen him this happy. I’m not about to let him fuck it up.”

“If I make him so happy then why did he tell me we don’t feel the same?” you whisper, reaching into the puddle of syrup and ice at the bottom of your now empty cup.

“Is that exactly what he said?” Derek asks, after a long pause. You bite the maraschino cherry off the stem and nod morosely, grinding a long-gone stranger’s cigarette butt with your boot just to crush something. There’s another beat of silence. “Alright. You know what I think?”

You raise your head to meet his gaze, your own wide-eyed and expectant.

“I think you two need to have an honest conversation. You’re both confused and hurting—I promise Spencer is feeling it too. If you talk to him he won’t be unkind to you.”

“He already was,” you admit.

“I apologize if I’m out of line here, but you just told me you’ve been icing him out all week because you want him to feel bad. I’m willing to bet you don’t realize how sharp these claws are.” Derek grabs your hand as he says it and you marvel at how much he is the opposite of you. Everything he does and says seems so natural and reasonable and charming even if it would piss you off from anyone else—and you just met the guy. You can see why Spencer and Penelope speak so highly of him. “I think you’ve probably both had your moments these past few days. But that doesn’t mean neither of you deserve any more chances.”

He puts your hand back on your knee and pats it.

“Besides, Spencer‘s not good at mean. I bet he’s inside worrying himself sick over whatever dumb shit he said to you. He’s probably hyperventilating as we speak.”

“It was really out of character for him,” you concede.

“Yeah. He’ll be apologizing for a long while. It will get annoying. But he sure as hell won’t be doing it again, I can tell you that much. If he does, let me know. Emily and I will whoop his ass and call it a fitness evaluation.”

“I think that’ll be unnecessary,” you laugh thickly, pulling your sleeve over your hand and wiping away the few tears that haven’t quite dried. “But thank you.”

“Anytime. Now, it’s my birthday, and as a grown man I should not be getting involved in someone else’s relationship drama. I was supposed to be on the dance floor a while ago.” His tone is so warm and sugary by the time he finishes it could rot his perfect grin. It’s futile to hide the way your mouth twists into a reluctant smile as you look down and fix your hair—praying he can’t tell how fazed you are by his kindness. “You’re going to talk to him, right?”

“I’ll—yeah. Right,” you say quietly. But the sinking feeling in your stomach knows it’s a thing easier said than done.

“Good,” Derek grunts, taking your empty cup before pushing himself back up to his feet and offering you a hand. “Do you want me to send him out here or do you want to come find him inside?”

You balk.

“Like—right now? I have to talk to him now?”

Before he can give you an answer you think you’d rather not have, the bar door is opening. From your spot you can’t see who it is right away, but Derek turns over his shoulder and does a double take before looking back at you.

Spencer steps out onto the sidewalk, eyes scanning for until he realizes you’re a few feet shorter than usual. Sitting on a filthy public walkway is probably his worst nightmare, you realize, as you scramble to your feet and dust the crumbs of concrete from your palms against the back of your cold jeans. He begins to say your name, and it sounds like relief and regret, but you stop him.

“I have to go wash my hands.”

It’s monotonous and mumbled and comes out too quickly but you don’t have time to worry about that as you brush past both of the men on your way back into the bar, making an immediate beeline for the bathroom.

Your face burns with anxiety as you shut the door behind you, immediately drowning in the yellowish lighting which is so harsh but seems to illuminate almost nothing. Who paints a bathroom red? It’s suffocating. You feel like you’re inside an aorta.

Water runs cool over your hands as you sniffle, rinsing the bits of dirt from red indents made by pebbles and things, and the soap is too floral and powdery but you wash twice anyway. Maybe you’ll just stay in here and wash your hands forever.

There’s a light knock on the shiny wooden door and it makes you jump. Your name is muffled from the other side.

“You in there?”

Quickly you wipe under your reddened eyes in the mirror, trying to fix the slightly smudged makeup.

The door opens when you don’t respond, and there’s Spencer, looking weary and tense all at once. Is that your fault?

“Hey,” you sniff, trying to effect casualness, but it comes out too quickly and your posture is too stiff. Under his all-seeing gaze you cross and uncross your arms, look at him and look away. Your hands end up in your pockets. He’d say crossed arms are a sign of self-soothing.

“Hey.” His is more measured, and of course makes you feel embarrassed in comparison. The door swings shut behind him as he enters the small room and makes it feel that much smaller. “Are you… hiding from me in here?”

Yes.

The graffitied toilet stalls to your left suddenly look fascinating.

“Nope. Just washing my hands.”

This is not what Derek told you to do, you scold yourself internally. Stop being so scared. Be honest with him.

Silence rings. All the brutally honest things you’d like to say choke you until your throat hurts and your eyes get hot. Yet again you feel like a stupid little girl who’s too emotional to communicate.

You cross your arms. It’s an indulgence you feel you’re owed.

Spencer says your name again and it’s too much. He never says it this often. When he does it feels good but now it’s too formal, makes you too aware of your own inadequacy, and how he must be seeing you—a wraith of a girl in a dingy bar bathroom with clammy hands and smudged eyeliner, practically shaking with fear under an unforgiving light. Someone who is too scared and much too sensitive.

Spencer attempts to speak again.

“What I said before, it was—”

“Can you just take me home?”

It comes out on one exhalation and seems to stall him with all the effectiveness of a slap to the face.

You don’t know where it comes from, either.

Easier said than done, you’d thought a few moments ago. All the bravery Derek had tried to instill in you is gone, swallowed down the drain like soap scum. And now you’re choosing to let your fear win—because at least that’s a known quantity. The fear will never reject you. It will always be waiting with open arms.

Too scared.

The end feels imminent. You try to press yourself back together, fingernails biting into palms, trying to make something feel more tangible than the terrible knowingness that you’re careening toward an end which was supposed to be a beginning. It’s stifling and you wonder if Spencer is breathing it too.

You can’t look at his face, but you watch him pocket his hands in his pants and there is so much impossible space between you in such a tiny room.

“Yeah. I can.”

Something breaks. It’s small, and without fanfare. But it feels final.

It’s just a ride home. Just a ride home.

That’s all you have left, and you don’t know how you know it but you do.

Something so important is being left in this stupid, dingy bathroom. Something that was at one point beautiful and shiny and so arrogant in its newness that it seemed it would never become ugly. And now you’re abandoning it without dignity on the chipped tile floor and in the cobwebs on the walls. It was bigger than you, it was you—and now it’s going to be nothing.

A vehicle honks on the street. A boisterous group laugh explodes somewhere beyond the door. Water drips from a faucet.

“I’ll… I’ll bring my car around.”

“Okay.”

But he just stands there for another moment. Like he can’t get himself to move.

If only time would freeze before he could walk away.

But it doesn’t.

He sucks in a decisive breath.

“Okay,” he murmurs.

It’s that fucking phone call all over again.

Then he spins on his heels and leaves you there.

Your time is up.

part 5.5

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine

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arieslost · 8 months ago

Text

home to you | op81

oscar piastri x fem!reader

summary: oscar does what he should’ve done a long time ago.

word count: 2,978

warnings: healing sunburn right at the beginning, a touch of angst

masterlist — join my tag list here!

this is a PART TWO! read part one here :)

Your sunburn is peeling.

Oscar’s been watching you absentmindedly pick at it for the last ten minutes as you recount your day to him. He’s paying attention to what you’re saying, of course, but now he’s worried that you might accidentally hurt yourself.

“Stop doing that,” he says when you pause to catch your breath, reaching for his phone as if he could put his hand through and stop you himself.

“What?” You frown, and then look at your shoulder. “Oh, right. It’s weirdly satisfying though.”

“This is why you can’t go to the beach by yourself.” Oscar sighs. “You never put on enough sunscreen.”

“I know,” you reply quietly.

As much as both of you have tried, neither of you can help the awkward undertones that seep into every silence you share now. Oscar knows you love him, and you know that he doesn’t feel the same way.

You think he doesn’t feel the same way.

When he saw that look on your face that morning in the kitchen, it reminded him of the way he stared at you on prom night. Oscar didn’t get asked to the senior prom, but you did, and you had turned the offer down. Oscar asked you why, and you told him that you only wanted to go with him, otherwise you weren’t going. You’d dragged him back and forth from your table to the dance floor all night long, and it all would’ve faded into the mush of fleeting high school memories if your favorite song hadn’t come on. Oscar remembers every detail of how your eyes lit up, how you cried, “I love this song!” even though he knew you did, and how you’d grabbed his hands and started dancing with a refreshed energy. He felt like time had stopped and his world revolved around you, and it felt right.

So yeah, he knew the moment you gave him that look that not only did he still love you, but you finally, finally felt the same way. And, for the second time, he’d epically fucked it up.

He often wishes that he could go back and confess to you like he wanted to that night. You’d stayed over because you were too tired to drive home. You were both single. It was the perfect time. But now it’s four years later and he’s sitting in the hotel bathroom on the other side of the world, his girlfriend asleep in the hotel bed, and you on the other end of his phone screen picking at your sunburn that he could’ve prevented had he spent more time with you on vacation.

“You doing okay, Osc?” You ask, pulling on a hoodie of his that you stole from him before he left for his very first F1 race. “Aside from the races, I mean. I know you’re doing great with those.”

“Yeah, I’m alright.” The words come out with practiced ease. “I’d rather hear about how you’re doing though.” I miss you like you wouldn’t believe.

“I think I’ve told you everything like five times now,” you giggle. “I could tell you about the guy that came up to me in the grocery store this afternoon and took a painstakingly long time to ask for my number, but that’s not a long story.”

Oscar’s heart stops. “What?” He replies, teeth gritted, before he clears his throat and lightens his tone. “I mean, what?”

“Yeah, it was kind of strange. He started the conversation by asking me how you were doing, obviously, because you’re so cool and famous-” Oscar flips you off when you roll your eyes, and you laugh. “Anyway, I guess that was his icebreaker, because then he just abruptly segued into grilling me right there in the cereal aisle about my life and how he ‘couldn’t believe he’d never seen me before.’” You recount dramatically. “I’m telling you, Osc, it was nonstop cheesy line after cheesy line. I felt so bad for him I let him have my number.”

“So, he used me as an in and then harassed you until you gave him your number?”

You nod slowly. “Pretty much.”

“You better not actually be considering going out with this guy.” Oscar scoffs.

“Oh, no, I’m not!” You rush to clarify, and he can see a faint blush rising on your cheeks. “I mean, it’s not like I’m waiting for anyone-anything. He was just weird. I only gave him my number so he’d leave me alone… I blocked him when he texted me.”

“You’re horrible,” he starts laughing now, relieved that this guy never even stood a chance. “I love it.”

“You’re supposed to be encouraging me to get out there and find a boyfriend, loser. Brush up on the best friend manual.” You complain, pulling the hood over your head and hiding your face from him so he can’t see how much it hurts to think about finding someone that isn’t him.

He doesn’t notice anyway; he’s distracted by the sound of the covers moving and his girlfriend yawning.

You hear it too, and glance up at the camera. “You have to go?”

His heart breaks at how sad you look. “Yeah, sounds like she’s actually waking up this time. Sorry, honey.”

You shrug, and he knows you’re trying to appear unbothered. “It’s okay. We got, what, an hour and a half? That’s a whole extra 45 minutes or so.”

“You’re allowed to tell me how you really feel, y’know.”

“Damn it, Oscar. You just see right through me. I don’t know why I even bother.” You sigh, covering your face with your hands.

“I don’t know why, either,” he attempts to joke. “Look, I-”

“Oscar? Where are you?” His girlfriend calls, and you stiffen up at the sound of her voice.

“Be there in a minute!” He responds, turning his attention back to you. “I’ll call you again as soon as possible, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Bye, honey.”

“Bye, Osc.”

You hang up first.

“I love you,” he whispers to his blank phone screen, and gets up to start his day.

You say it back to your own blank screen and go to sleep.

Oscar comes to the steadfast conclusion that he wants you and only you at his side at his home race, and not as a friend.

Breaking up with his girlfriend still looms over him. He lies awake for way too long at night trying to figure out the nicest way to do it, but his thoughts always end up taking a detour to you and how he wishes it was you sleeping next to him instead.

Despite the struggle going on in his mind, he goes through the motions of PDA with her for all the cameras and other drivers in the paddock to see. Lando is the only one who realizes what his issue is.

“Mate, you have to figure this out.” The older driver said out of the blue as they were lounging in McLaren hospitality after qualifying.

“Huh?” Oscar frowned at him, tearing his eyes away from his texts with you. “I know I fucked up that quali, but it’s not like I can’t improve.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about, you muppet.” Lando rolled his eyes, and said your name like it’s obvious. “You just have to break up with the girl you’re with now so you can have the girl you really want.”

“You say that like it’s so simple.” Oscar mumbled, looking at the text from you that had just come in.

Just focus on the race, Osc. Quali’s behind you, it doesn’t matter anymore. I’ll be cheering you on, what could possibly go wrong??

“It is, if you think about it. Besides, you’ve been acting so weird lately she might already think something’s up.”

“Gee, thanks. That makes me feel a lot better.” Oscar groaned, sinking lower into his chair.

“Always here for you, mate.”

“I was being sarcastic.”

“I don’t care.”

That enlightening conversation gets Oscar to finally work up the courage to tell his girlfriend those dreaded words following the race– “We need to talk.”

He waits until they’re in the hotel room after dinner to say it so there’s no audience, primarily because he knows that she’s prone to throwing fits when things don’t go her way. The memory of her losing her mind when he took you to breakfast during vacation comes screaming back to him at the speed of light.

She doesn’t say anything at first; instead, she takes her time removing her shoes and taking the pins out of her hair. Oscar can’t stand the silence, so he starts speaking again.

“It’s about-”

“I think I know what this is about.” She interrupts him.

“You do?”

“I’d have to be stupid not to know, Oscar. You’ve been off for the past few days, it’s only with me, and every time I wake up you’re hiding in the bathroom on the phone.” She holds up a hand when he opens his mouth. “I know it’s her, and I’ve known since that vacation. You don’t have to tell me.”

“You’re… you’re not gonna yell?” He can’t hide the surprise in his voice.

“It won’t get me anywhere, will it?”

“It never did.”

She smiles matter-of-factly. “I guess I have to work on that.”

She packs her things without argument. Oscar offers to buy her a plane ticket somewhere, but she waves him off and thanks him anyway before walking out the door.

The Australian Grand Prix is in two weeks. Oscar doesn’t think before he calls you.

“I’m coming home. I need to see you.”

Your heart has been in your throat ever since Oscar called you this morning. He was so hasty that he didn’t even tell you when he was coming, so every little movement you see outside your window has you running to see if it’s him or not.

He doesn’t show up until almost 9:30 at night. You can hear the engine of his car as he flies through your neighborhood with practiced ease and nearly drifts into your driveway. Your stomach is jumping with nerves and excitement; you didn’t think you’d see him for another two weeks, and despite the awkwardness that your feelings have brought to your friendship, you want nothing more than to hug your best friend.

He starts impatiently knocking on the door as you nearly trip down the stairwell in your rush to let him in.

“Hold on!” You shout, fingers shaking as you unlock the door and wrench it open. “Are you trying to break my door?”

“Jokes later, let me hold you,” he says, reaching for you and meeting you in the middle of the doorway as he pulls you into his chest for a tight embrace.

You melt into him immediately, your arms wrapped around his neck and your nose pressed to the warm skin that peeks out of his hoodie. “I can’t believe you’re here,” you mumble, squeezing him.

He shivers, kissing the top of your head. “I’m here, baby.”

I’m sorry, baby. You think about that so much that it shouldn’t hurt anymore. It sobers your mood a little.

“Why, though?” You ask, pulling away a little to look at him. “Don’t you have things to be doing?”

“I may have forced them to clear my schedule by coming home without telling anyone.”

“Oscar!” You exclaim. “Why? You could get in trouble!”

“Can we talk inside?”

“Yeah, of course. C’mon.” You take his hand and lead him into your house.

He takes off his shoes, leaves his suitcase in the hall, and goes to your living room on autopilot, where he flops down on the couch and lets out a long breath. You sit next to him, knees bumping together as you look at him with a reasonable amount of concern. “You’re acting weird. What’s wrong with you?”

“I broke up with her.” He says, rolling his head to the side so he’s looking at you. “So, nothing’s wrong with me.”

“Bullshit, Osc, it seemed to me like you really liked her.”

“You didn’t, though.”

“Who cares what I think?” Your brain fully computes his words. “Wait- actually, no. I’m not even going to act surprised by the fact that you knew that.” You sigh.

“I care what you think. I care about you. A lot.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“I don’t think you do.” He sits up straighter now, turning his whole body to face you. “Like, in a romantic way.”

You blink at him a couple times. “No you don’t.”

“I don’t?” He repeats incredulously.

“You can’t. You don’t.” You say. “You’re lying.”

“I’m lying?” He says through a laugh. “You’ve known me your whole life. When have I ever lied to you?”

You press your lips together. The only time he’s ever lied to you is when he planned your surprise parties. “I’m gonna need you to do a really good job explaining yourself, otherwise I’m kicking you out. You can’t do this to me, Oscar, you know how I feel-”

“Yes, I do, and I’d love to explain if you’d stop spiraling for a second.” He interrupts, taking your hands to ground you.

You’re once again having the dilemma of wanting to push him away and pull him closer simultaneously. The pressure of his hands holding yours succeeds in calming you, so you allow it.

“The whole reason I knew how you felt in the first place is because of the way you looked at me in the kitchen. You didn’t notice, but I looked at you the exact same way at the prom.” He says, gauging your reaction by how your face contorts slightly as you try to remember the prom at all, aside from the fleeting memory of forcing him to slow dance with you. “That feeling like time stops? Like-”

“Like I got hit by a truck,” you recall, looking down as he runs his thumbs over your knuckles.

“Right.” He nods. “Look, the bottom line here is that I screwed up by not telling you then, and if I had, we would’ve been dating for years at this point and this conversation wouldn’t even be happening.”

You feel like you look like a fish out of water with how your jaw is opening and closing, searching for something to say in response. “Osc-”

“If this makes you change your mind, I get it.” He continues. “But the whole reason I came here is to tell you that I love you. I’m in love with you and I have been since we were 18.”

You go to muster up something to say in response when he says one more thing. “Oh, and I’m tired of only being able to see you through the phone. That’s the other reason.”

You can’t help it– that, paired with his polite cat smile, his flushed cheeks, and his confession has you dissolving into giggles. That quickly morphs into laughter that sends you leaning so far forward your head is practically in Oscar’s lap, but he doesn’t seem to mind because he’s laughing too.

“I hate you so much,” you gasp out, pushing yourself back up so you can look at him when you tell him the complete and total truth. “I’ve been in love with you since we were 14.”

“Shit, that means I have eight years to make up for, not four.”

“Sucks to suck.” You say, easily falling back into your age-old banter.

“You sound like Lando,” he says, wrinkling his nose. “And I was gonna ask if I could kiss you.”

“Ah, shoot. I ruined it.”

“Hmm, no. I’m gonna ask you anyway.” He shifts closer to you, brushing your hair out of your face with both hands. “Can I kiss you? Please?”

You start nodding before he even finishes asking, maybe too enthusiastically, but it’s Oscar. He knows you. He wants you. You don’t need to be embarrassed.

The press of his lips against yours is soft, gentle. You always thought that if you ever kissed Oscar it might be too weird, but the only thing you feel now is right.

It feels right to thread your fingers into his hair. It feels right to let him tug you closer, closer, closer, until you have no choice but to straddle him so you can be as close as he wants you. It feels right when his hands slip under your shirt and lightly run over the skin of your back, when his tongue meets yours, when you give his hair an experimental tug and he moans into your mouth.

The only thing wrong about it is that you have no choice but to break the kiss in order to breathe, but even then you don’t move far from each other, breaths mixing in the minimal space between you both.

“We could have been doing that for a long time,” Oscar sighs, throwing his head back against the couch.

“We have all the time in the world now that we stopped being idiots and confessed.” You point out.

“D’you think you can come to the race in a couple weeks? We can take it slow with this, no one needs to know… I just want you to be there.” He asks.

“Of course, Osc, are you kidding?” You run your hands over his shoulders and down to where his hands rest on your hips. “Though, if you win, I can’t promise no PDA or anything.”

“I’d expect nothing less from my girlfriend.” You can feel him tense up a little, like he’s expecting you to react negatively, but he relaxes immediately when your smile lights up your whole face and you kiss him again.

“I love you,” he whispers against your lips.

“I love you,” you whisper back.

No one else needs to hear it just yet. You only need to tell each other.

note: i sincerely hope this made up for any tears i may have caused with the angst in the first part. this is the first time i’ve ever been inspired to write a part 2, and i think it’s because i desperately needed it to end happily. thank you so much for all the love on falling for you; i never expected it to get as much attention as it did!

requests are OPEN, and my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation! feel free to pop in!

reblogs are greatly appreciated <33

dividers by @/saradika !

tags (i’m sorry if i couldn’t tag you!): @venusacrossthestars @67-angelofthelordme-67 @emails-i-can-send @nelly187 @cixrosie @fangirl-dot-com @sainzluvrr @imheretoread @mellowarcadefun @yourbane @monsieurbacteria6 @c-losur3 @papayatori @ssprayberrythings @namgification @maih23 @evlkking @witchycarmen @ilovethispookie @maxverstappenfan79 @sya-skies @niallerswolf @fangirl-dot-com @hood-jabi @vellicora @k-pevensie28 @cami26cami @arian-directioner @vildetry06 @hauntedphotographybookstaco @bigheartsthings @northpizzasposts @notturlover @riv3rbank @gesfjjsl @oliveisunstable @lily1sposts @sadbut-true0 @lilcowboy0 @alltoowelltaylor @kimis-gloves @superheroreader @alexmarie29 @anedpev @lalalaphie @waitingforsmartpeople @arrowenchantress @zillygoose @its-cat-eyes @gxllumsriddles @fionaschicken @mrsgeorgerussell63 @bre013 @lizzypiastri @blldsnjs @samantha-chicago @homosexualjohnwayne @opheliabluewolff @catbat011 @drivelikeiido @what-is-happening-helpp @decafmickey @tania2748 @steviesscoops @annahowardsworld

#full fic #op81 week #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri imagine #formula one x reader #formula one imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #op81 imagine #op81 x reader #op81 fluff

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vivwritesfics · 5 months ago

Note

Really love your works!! Hoping I could ask for a Carlos Sainz smut to angst. You are Charles’s little sister (of age of course) and he catches you having sex with his teammate. He becomes angry, warns Carlos off, he does as he’s told as he doesn’t want to lose Charles friendship, Carlos tells you that you can’t see each other anymore but in a really harsh way, you are heartbroken and angry at both.

Lightest of light smut like not even really smut but you're still getting a warning

It was just fooling around. No feelings, nothing real between them. Just two attractive people finding a break from their loneliness within each other.

It wasn't that deep.

Except, Charles didn't see it that way. (Neither did Arthur or Lorenzo, but they weren't there to catch them in the act, so their distress doesn't count). He saw his little sister beneath his teammate and he saw red. And not just because they were in the Ferrari Garage.

"Cha!" She cried, legs still wrapped around Carlos's naked waist. "Holy shit, get out!"

Charles didn't need to be told twice. He backed out of the drivers room and pulled the door shut behind him. The heel of his hands pressed against his eyes. "What the fuck!" He shouted, voice only slightly muffled by his sleeves.

Unwrapping her legs from around Carlos, she looked at him. "Shit," she hissed as she climbed out from beneath him and grabbed her shirt from the floor. "Shit, fuck, shit."

Before she could run out of the room, Carlos grabbed her hand. She stopped and turned towards him, fingers reaching out to brush through his hair. Kissing his head, she stood straight and walked out of the room.

Charles was out there, his expression furious. She'd only seen him like this once before, when she and Arthur had hidden his phone and broken it. "Charles," she tried, but he shook his head.

"Don't," he said. Charles grabbed her arm and pulled her behind him. "Just go back to the fucking hotel."

"No, Cha," she began, but it was too late.

Charles pushed open the door to the drivers room and strode in. "Carlos!" He bellowed, ignoring as she grabbed his arm. "You're sleeping with my baby sister?"

Carlos let out a breath. He looked past him, looked at her. At the slight terror on her face. He steadied himself before he looked in Charles's eyes. "She's a grown woman," he said, and her face fell further.

Suddenly, Charles pushed him. "She's my little sister!" He shouted. "She's my sister and you took advantage of that!"

Carlos didn't react. He stood still, unwilling to fight his teammate. But she was grabbing her brother and trying to pull him away. "Charles, stop it!" She shouted. "Leave him alone!"

When Charles's fist connected with his face, Carlos fell back. "Shit," he hissed, holding his nose.

"Stay the fuck away from her," he spat and turned on his heel, marching out of the drivers room.

Leaving her with him.

Cautiously, she approached. Almost like he was a frightened animal. "Carlos?" She asked quietly, but he shook his head, still pinching his nose.

"He's right," Carlos said. She didn't mean to frown. "I took advantage of my teammates little sister."

A scoff left her lips. "No, you didn't."

His stare bore into her own. "Yes, I did."

"Carlos-"

"I did! I took advantage of you and I shouldn't have!" He insisted and wiped at the red dripping from his nose. "I should have broken this off months ago," he spat.

She sucked in a sharp breath. "You're being dramatic," she mumbled as she turned to grab a tissue. "Charles is going to calm down eventually."

And, suddenly, Carlos was standing up straight. He strode past her and pulled open the door to the drivers room. "I think you should leave," he said and gestured for her to do so.

"Carlos-"

"Go!" He shouted. "I don't want to be with you anymore! I don't want to fuck you! Hell, I don't even want to see you!" He screamed, spit flying into her face.

A sob left her lips, hand immediately coming to cover her mouth. "Okay," she said quietly, blinking back tears. "Have it your way."

#carlos sainz #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz angst #cs55 #cs55 imagine #cs55 x reader #formula one #f1 #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 #formula one imagine #formula one x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine

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skzdarlings · 2 years ago

Text

06. sharing a bed series ; skz ; felix

masterlist.

sharing a bed series part 6/8. because it’s the cheesiest most classic trope and it’s FUN. -

pairing: lee felix/reader content info: sexual content. enemies2lovers, sharing a bed trope. bodyguard au. a dose of angst. open ending. past violence and parental abuse mentioned. ongoing perilous situation and forced proximity. not the healthiest dynamic lol. spanking, some rough play, hair-pulling, throat-grabbing, overstimulation, crying during sex, mention of past unprotected sex, a more dominant felix and a kinda bratty reader.

You kick open your bedroom door. As usual, no one is home except for you and Felix so you are free to scream and curse and stomp all you want.

“I can’t fucking believe you!” you shout among a flurry of other colourful words.

Felix enters behind you with his hands in his pockets, looking as nonchalant as ever.

Felix’s perpetual calmness is half the reason your father hired him. The other reason is that Felix was the best behaved boy in the world who grew into the most pristine, perfect man. Your father did not claw his way to the top of the industrial world by settling for anything less than the best. Lee Felix is the best. Your father trusts him with everything and anything, including wrangling his rambunctious daughter. Felix’s job is to guard and protect you – from others and from yourself. He is annoyingly good at it.

Felix is the prettiest, loveliest, sweetest man on the outside, particularly selected for his unassuming attributes. An obvious bodyguard figure draws unwanted attention. Felix, however, attended high school and college with you, posing as a fellow student and never looking out of place, always appearing gentle and ordinary and kind. Behind that, he is a lethally competent bodyguard. Your skinny, freckled, fair-haired watchdog can subdue any adversary.

Including the one tonight.

“I was just doing my job,” Felix says. He closes your bedroom door and locks it out of habit even though you are home alone. He is still completely uncaring to your crisis, as fucking usual, wandering around like he is a sensitive little lamb, smiling and content.

You throw yourself down on your bed with a dramatic heave.

“You broke his arm!” you cry.

Felix is standing at your desk, removing his work equipment. He is dressed like a civilian for the most part, denim pants with a windbreaker and a button-down over a t-shirt. He lays the jacket over the back of the chair and sighs, looking at his reflection in your vanity mirror. He runs a hand through his hair, still casual, feathering the dyed locks so they flutter back into place.

“I was just doing my job,” he repeats. He undoes the button-down and tosses it aside, then kicks his shoes under the desk.

Felix is all sharp lines and harsh angles, slender but athletic. His cheekbones are high, his angular face softened by his dark eyes and endearing freckles. That sweetness is juxtaposed by the gun harness strapped across his back.

You swallow. The harness hits the floor, then he grabs the back of the t-shirt and yanks it swiftly over his head. It joins the pile of discarded articles.

He sits on the desk chair with a distracted sigh, dutifully disassembling the gun for an inspection or cleaning or whatever nonsense Felix has decided is more important than your conversation.

“His arm,” you repeat. “You broke his arm. He was a completely innocent guy! I’m allowed to flirt with guys! Just because you’re my daddy’s good dog and he doesn’t let you get your dick wet, doesn’t mean I have to suffer too.”

Felix looks at you, his mouth a thin line with his unamused smile.

“Cute,” he says. He drops the smile and his distinctive deep voice drops another decibel when he says, “You can flirt. Just not with him.”

“His arm—”

Felix closes the gun and puts it on the desk.

“I think he was lucky I didn’t rip it off for grabbing you like that, don’t you think?” Felix says. He asks it so nicely too, tipping his head imploringly, like he really wants an answer. Not that he waits. Just as soon as the smile comes, it goes, replaced with a eye roll as he gets to his feet.

“Get ready for bed,” Felix says. “And, mmm, that’s not a request by the way. I’m phoning your dad to tell him we’re home safe.”

He doesn’t give you a chance to argue, just leaves the room while reaching into his back pocket for his phone. He closes the door behind himself, leaving you to fume by your lonesome.

Out of rebellious frustration, you do not budge an inch. You cross your arms and sit back on your bed, still dressed in your evening outfit. You can distantly hear Felix speaking in a formal voice and it makes you twitch with anticipation.

Felix being so professional is simultaneously his most annoying and most attractive quality. Annoying, because he really never falters on the clock. Attractive, because it wouldn’t be any fun pushing him to the boundaries of his rules if he wasn’t such a stickler in the first place.

When Felix returns, still wearing nothing more than his jeans, his expression immediately turns exasperated. He closes the door and puts his hands on his hips, staring down at you.

You stare straight ahead, arms and ankles crossed. You and Felix have shared a bed since the day he was hired, back when you were teenagers, as you were in the habit of sneaking out at night. You were not intimidated by the chubby-cheeked teenage boy, gleefully slipping past him while he slumbered – until suddenly you were being yanked back through the window. You learned the hard way that despite his appearance and disposition, he was an especially skilled martial artist.

As your father continues to accrue enemies in every market, you cannot live life on your own, not without endangering it. You still need Felix. You still share a bed. Everything you do, you do with Felix, whether you like it or not. Felix expresses little feeling on that front, a perpetual font of seeming sunshine when he isn’t breaking someone’s arm.

You know you are being mightily petulant by keeping him up, but you don’t care. If you can’t have what you want then neither can he. You can stay up all night, just staring and glaring at each other contemptuously. You are happy to let all that mutual disdain simmer through its achingly slow burn.

“Really?” Felix says. “Do we have to do this tonight?”

“I’m not doing anything,” you say.

“Right.” He laughs dryly but sits gingerly on his side of the bed. He smiles, his eyes crinkling sweetly with pleasure. His hair is getting longer again, sweeping his neck, and you watch as he delicately tucks some behind his ear. He leans on one arm, looking at you. “I’ll ask you nicely then, sweetheart.”

Ooh, that’s a low blow and he knows it. The word sweetheart always sounds so rich in his mouth, his accent softening the heart of it. Hopefully he misses the way you melt, but you doubt it.

His smile only deepens.

“Please, please get ready for bed,” he says. “It’s been a long day, yeah? And we’re both so tired. Come on. Let’s go. Just need some rest I think. Yeah, yeah, let’s go.”

You do not move.

You hear him sigh, a melodic sound. He runs his hand through his hair again.

“All right,” he says, soulfully. “All right. Fine.”

You hear the sharper inflection in his tone but you react a moment too late. Your bed is big, big enough you could starfish without even brushing his side of the bed, so it takes you a second to scamper to the opposite side.

That second is too long. Felix reaches out and grabs you by the calf, dragging you across the bed.

“Don’t you dare,” you say, kicking at him to no avail. “I’ll phone my dad!”

He is completely undeterred by your dramatics, only sighing when he hauls you over his lap.

“Go ahead,” he says. “I’m allowed to use, uhhh, what’d he say… discretion… mm… to discipline you if I think I need to.” He puts his phone within your reach. It is not a genuine gesture of goodwill so much as it is taunting you because you both know your father would take his side. “Well?” he asks. “Do you want to phone him?”

“I hate you,” you say.

“I know,” he replies. “Sorry.”

He sounds like he means it, though it’s hard to believe him when he flicks up your dress and swings his open palm across your ass. His hand comes down four more times before he neatly fixes your skirt again.

“Bed time?” he asks brightly, like everything has been solved with no problem.

You crawl off his lap while grumbling irritably, doing your best to ignore the smarting on your behind when you turn over to glare at him. He is just smiling at you, that thin-lipped way he smiles with dry humour.

“I hate you,” you say again.

He waves his hand, gesturing the vaguest, blandest sentiment of meh with its wiggle.

“I’m just doing my job,” he says for the millionth time.

“Really?” you reply with as much sarcasm as he usually gives. He hears it, tilting his head like a curious cat, as if he has no idea why you could possibly be upset with him – though the stupid little upturn to his lips tells you that he knows exactly why.

You hate him. You really, really do hate him. You have never hated anyone the way you hate him and you want to shout it from the roof. But you can’t do that. You can only say it to his face in private, in whatever way you can.

You reach without warning, cupping the bulge between his legs and finding a lot more than a denim crinkle. His gaze darkens, his hand covering yours warningly, though he doesn’t lift it away.

You adopt a saccharine sweet tone when you speak.

“Do you tell my daddy that when you discipline me you get hard?” you ask, batting your eyelashes.

He moves your hand to his thigh instead, shaking his head.

“Stop being silly,” he says. “Go get ready for bed.”

Your eyes follow him as he stands. He doesn’t get far when you grab his belt loop and tug him back. Felix has fast reflexes and is incredibly coordinated, so you find it hard to believe you sincerely bested him, but he stumbles as if you did. He stands where you want him, where he’s close enough for you to kneel on the bed and press your face right against his bulge.

He says your name in a warning voice, his already deep voice dropping more.

“I wonder…” you say, nuzzling your nose against the ridge in the denim, where you can feel him hard and getting harder still. “When my daddy asks you what we do all day,” you say, flicking your eyes up to his, “do you tell him your dick spends more time in my mouth than in your pants?”

His nostrils flare with his next breath.

You smile, victorious.

“He still thinks you’re his perfect soldier, doesn’t he?” you ask. “You can do no wrong. Little does he know…”

“I do my job,” Felix says. “And I do a good job. Okay? That’s all that matters.”

You start to open your mouth, one hand climbing towards his fly. You stop with a gasp when he fists a chunk of your hair, tugging your head away from him. It sends a hot shock rippling through you, flooding you with the recollection of all the times he grabbed your hair and pulled you closer, the times he cupped your head and put himself in your mouth despite knowing better, the number of times he fucked between your pretty lips and forgot to be proper, cursing so much it was practically poetry.

This time he guides you away and you whimper miserably. He does not loosen his grip, his fingers threading closer to your scalp so it both hurts less and holds stronger. He knows better than to just let go. He knows you perfectly. You glare at him.

“Look at me,” he says, because your gaze dropped to his bulge again. “I said look at me.” He tugs your hair so you obey, giving him your most annoyed expression. “You’re listening, yeah?” he says. He doesn’t wait for an answer. “You’re going to go to your closet. Get ready for bed. Sleep. You’re going to do that,” his voice turns frighteningly pleasant, “or I’m going to carry you over there and get you ready myself.”

“Like when we were leaving the club tonight?” you ask just as sweetly. “And you put me over your shoulder then, oops, something happened when we were in the limo, didn’t it?”

He lets go of you, exhaling tiredly in a high-pitched breath.

“Where did all your pretty rings go, Felix?” you ask, reaching for his bare hand, usually adorned with rings. “Did they fall on the floor in the limo when you decided you had to shove your hand up my skirt?”

Leaving the club, you were both wired. Felix was honestly justified in breaking that guy’s arm. You purposefully chose the creepiest, shadiest guy in the club to lead on, knowing Felix would appear two seconds later to rescue you. He always does. No one else ever pays you any personal attention and your life is too complicated for romance, so you thrive on the feeling of someone caring enough to always find you – even if it’s literally his job.

You also like getting mad at him for overreacting, but you like his overreactions. Him twisting and breaking that creep’s arm honestly turned you on. It also got Felix all worked up, a bit pissed because you were being irresponsible again but nonetheless heated. You thought for sure he’d take you home and go crazy and fuck you in the foyer. Instead he put up the limo divider and one-by-one removed his rings, giving you ample time to refuse before he covered your mouth tightly and slid his other hand up between your thighs.

Of course, despite bringing you to the edge several times, he never let you finish. Because he’s the worst.

And now you’re all worked up and he’s shirtless and being a stupid, pretty, two-faced bitch.

“I—” you start.

He rolls his eyes and says, “I know. I know. You hate me. Now go.”

You get up, stomping all the way to your walk-in closet. You can’t even slam the door because it’s a sliding one, but you make the biggest possible demonstration of closing it anyway.

You get ready for bed. You briefly consider dressing provocatively or even strolling out there naked, but in the end you decide to just dress in your ugly, comfy, over-sized t-shirt and march angrily back into the room.

Felix is gone when you return, probably off to double-check the house security one last time before joining you. You could try climbing out the window and down the terrace, just to be ridiculous, but he’ll catch up sooner than later and be even more annoying about it. So you get into bed and turn off the lights, laying down with a huff, blankets pulled up to your chin.

You get a bit dozy before Felix returns, the creaking door snapping you awake. You look over your shoulder and watch him finally shuck the jeans. He gets into bed in his boxers, removing his earrings once under the covers. He puts on the bedside table, then double-checks his gun is in the drawer, then and then only then does he lay down.

The big bed leaves an ocean of space between you. You roll over to face him. His eyes are closed but there’s no way he is already asleep.

“Felix,” you whisper, even though the big house is empty, “I’m cold.”

“There’s another blanket in the closet,” he says without opening his eyes.

You slide across the bed, close enough to reach out and put a hand on his chest. He opens his eyes and stares straight up.

“I need a cuddle,” you say. “Or I’ll have nightmares.”

“You’re not a child anymore,” he says.

That is maybe one thing you miss about the time before you and Felix started… this. When things were still innocent between you, he would often let you snuggle up with him. Now, he keep his distance. Now, he doesn’t hug or hold you.

So no one does.

“We’re still young,” you say, a dumb argument, but you’re tired and out of ideas.

“I was never as young as you,” he grumbles, more to himself than you. He seems to realize what he said and shakes his head. He pats your hand on his chest then rolls over, leaving his back to you.

You slowly return your hand to yourself, staring at the back of his head with an uncharacteristic prickling of tears.

Felix doesn’t talk about his life before this. You just know that it was somehow worse. Worse than being a watchdog. Worse than giving up years of his life to protect someone else. Worse than the times your father wanted to discipline you but learned that if he hit you directly you would just patch yourself up and move on, but if he hit Felix then you would break down and offer anything to make him stop.

You can see a couple faded scars from those times, faint lines that cross his back, remnants of old belt lashings. You touch one now, tracing your finger lightly from one end to the other. You watch a shiver roll down his spine. He doesn’t turn around.

Giving up, you roll away, back to your distant side of the bed. You close your eyes and will yourself to sleep, but it just makes you well up with tears. You sniffle, rubbing your nose messily on the back of your arm.

Fabric rustles. You suck in a breath when Felix slides up behind you, pulling you into the middle of the bed where he holds you snugly in his arms. You immediately roll to face him, throwing a leg over his hip and burying your face in his neck.

“Sweetheart,” he says, nothing else.

“I hate you,” you say, then press a kiss just under his jaw.

“I know.” He cups the back of your head as your kisses move down his neck. “I know.”

You make it to the middle of his chest before he turns you onto your back and gets up over you. He kisses you properly, thumbs wiping your tears as his mouth makes you forget about the reason you cried at all. All that matters is kissing him back, wrapping your legs around his hips and pulling him close as possible. His sounds of pleasure are so deep and rough and rumbling.

“Fuck me, please, please,” you say, pushing your fingers into his hair.

He groans, pressing his forehead to yours.

“You know we can’t do that,” he says.

“We’ve done it before,” you say, purposefully canting your hips to rub against him, reminding him you are still so hot and wet from his finger-fucking, that only stupid underwear keeps you apart. It has the desired effect, his brow furrowing as he holds himself still above you. You peck his lips and string your arms around his neck. “You know I’m on birth control now for that reason,” you say, a little sweetly, smiling up at him. “Remember?”

He drops his face in the crook of your neck and makes an even crazier sound, shaking his head.

“That was very, very irresponsible of us, you know,” he says.

“Mhm,” you say, sliding your hand down his body to his waistband. “It really was. But it felt good, didn’t it? Dangerous. Coming inside me like that.”

Felix is right; that incident was very irresponsible. You had already started your little cat-and-mouse game and ran out of condoms one night. Because the two of you only have sex with each other, when that happened, you usually just fooled around until he pulled out.

That time was… a lot. You were pressed so tightly together and you were being painfully quiet because you weren’t home alone. It was such a stupid time to mess around, but common sense leaves you when Felix is involved.

That feeling is mutual. Felix knew better too. If he got you pregnant… the fallout with your father would be catastrophic for both of you. Still, for that moment he was inside you, with your fingers laced together and pressed by your head, with your legs tight around him and his face in your neck, nothing else seemed to exist. You were two normal people who were allowed to do whatever they wanted with whoever they wanted. It was a breathless, momentary fantasy, holding him tight and telling him to come, shuddering at the noise he made as he did just that. You didn’t even panic after the fact. You let the moment linger for as long as it could, still pretending you were normal, still pretending it was fine.

You started birth control soon after, telling your father it was to regulate your period. He waved it off, not wanting to hear more.

Your father has truly never suspected a thing. He doesn’t see the people around him as people, just objects, so it makes sense that he sees nothing in Felix but a soldier. He doesn’t know anything about Felix. Doesn’t know the pattern of his freckles or how his eyes crinkle up when he smiles. Doesn’t know he has a sweet tooth and will dump a thing of sugar in nearly everything. Doesn’t know what he finds funny, doesn’t know what makes him sad, doesn’t know anything at all.

You drag your calf up the back of his leg.

“Felix,” you say.

He gives you no chance to say more. One second you are in limbo, the very next he has shoved down both his boxers and your underwear and is already pressing into you. Only nonsense leaves your lips after that, your eyes closing as he works your body like a familiar and well-loved instrument. He knows it as well as you do. As you do his. It’s easy to work him up, to get him as close as you.

“I know what you’re doing,” he says, changing position so he’s kneeling. He puts one of your legs up against his chest, levelling you with an amused smile. “You’re trying to get me to finish first,” he says.

“What? Noooo…” Your giggle turns into a gasp. You can be as loud as you want but you bite your fist anyway, hiccupping with a choked back sob of pleasure when he finds an angle that makes you see stars.

“Yes, you are,” he says. “But you won’t win.”

“I will,” you say.

“Uh-uh,” he says. “Sure.”

He makes you come twice before he does. He even starts pushing you towards a third but you are so oversensitive that it makes tears fall. He cups your chin and looks at you, cursing.

“You’re so mean,” you say, smiling through your tears. “Getting off to me crying.”

“I’m—not—I just—”

“Liar,” you tease. “You totally are.”

He just giggles. Then he flips a switch and goes from cute to something else, grabbing your throat and fucking into your oversensitive pussy so good and hard that you cry out.

“Shhh, sweetheart, it’s okay,” he says. “Got you. Got you. I—”

You kiss him and he comes, sinking into you with dick and tongue and breath, filling you and surrounding you.

You hold him close, arms tight around him, his sweaty forehead pressed to yours. When he tries to lift away, you pull him back, making him laugh softly.

“Stay,” you say, and repay his torture by squeezing him inside you, knowing it will make him twitch and jerk with oversensitivity of his own.

“You never make it easy for me, do you,” he says with no animosity.

You shake your head and smile like you’re proud of that. He laughs then kisses you. The kiss is good and thorough and sweet, completely loving, affectionate. It gets your heart racing despite everything you just did. You rest your hands on his chest and gently push him back.

“I still hate you,” you say, because you have to say it, because the opposite would be too dangerous to ever say. You can’t even let that word enter your thoughts, certainly never let it leave your lips. If you held that word in your mouth for even a second, you would become addicted to it. So you glare at him with all passion you can muster and say, “I hate you so much.” You sniffle when he wipes your tears away. You turn your face. “I hate you more than I’ve ever hated anyone.”

“I know,” he says in a strained voice. He presses his forehead to your temple and exhales. “I know, sweetheart.”

#skz smut #stray kids smut #lee felix smut #felix x reader #skz x reader

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dollarbils · 8 days ago

Text

focused | j.o.

jenna ortega x fem!reader

context. your girlfriend’s been busy all day. all you’re craving is for her focus to be on you.

warnings. angst, smut, degrading words.

masterlist

she’d been glued to her laptop all day. consumed in this new script she’d received. of course you were excited for her, you’d seen the way her face lit up. but she’d been at it for hours, days.

“jenna, when are you going to give yourself a break, how long is this script?” she wasn’t fully listening, still engrossed by the letters on the white screen.

“hm?” she barely looked over at you, registering thad you’d said something, but nothing more.

“jenna please. i feel like i haven’t seen you in days even though we live together.” she seemed to have had picked up on your tone because this time she turned around, facing you.

“sorry, what did you say?” she asked you to repeat yourself for the second time.

“i miss you, love. it’s been ages since we’ve talked or spent time together.” she furrowed her brows in confusion.

“what do you mean? we see each other all day.” she chuckled, not taking the conversation seriously.

“i’m serious jenna, you’ve been glued to that screen for the past two days, i’ve barely heard your voice. it’s been keeping you up at night too.” instead of self reflecting, she went on the defensive immediately.

“that’s not true. i just really need to get this script looked over. i was told i could comment on anything id like to possibly get changed. do you understand how rare it is for an actor to get that opportunity?” she got up from the desk chair, waving her hands around as she yelled.

“no, of course i do. but that doesn’t mean you can’t at least take a break.” she rolled her eyes.

“i have taken breaks, it’s not my problem you’re so needy all the time.” the insult was misplaced and you felt embarrassed.

“i’m needy? jenna i haven’t had a conversation that’s lasted more than a minute in the last 48 hours. wanting more than that is not needy.” you couldn’t shake the feeling that had settled in, the fact that maybe you were too needy.

“oh my god, you’re so dramatic. just wait for me to finish and then i’m all yours.” her tone was condescending, and you soon found it ridiculous that you were fighting over this.

“it’s not only about me, you need a break too.” she didn’t seem to care.

“just give me five minutes.” you knew five minutes would turn into five hours but it didn’t matter anymore. and once five minutes had passed, you closed your eyes and drifted to sleep, no longer having the energy to fight her.

after some time, she came through the door, to find you sleeping. it’s not as if she’d wanted to upset you, but this script was really exciting to her. she hadn’t meant to ignore you.

“baby,” she shook you awake, not wanting to go to sleep without fixing this.

“jenna, i’m not in the mood.” she was slightly taken aback by your cold words.

“i’m sorry, sweetheart.” she sat upright on the bed, caressing your arm gently, coaxing you into forgiveness.

“please.” she repeated, and even without elaboration it was clear what she was asking for.

“okay.” you folded as the soft words left your lips. you pushed the covers back and let her take you in her arms. she kissed your forehead earning a sigh, as you relaxed in her warm embrace.

“what can i do to make it better?” she asked with genuine concern, however your response was a mischievous grin. she raised her eyebrows as she questioned the look you were giving her.

“i could use some head.” she laughed at your reply and kissing your smiling lips.

“i can arrange that.” she whispered in your ear, her hands burning the skin at your waist.

“my poor angel’s touch starved. tell me what you need, baby.” her voice was sick with power. she loved having you so desperately begging for her. although she did feel bad.

“fuck, jenna. i just need you to t-touch me.” her smile widened and she fumbled with your shorts, not planning on wasting any time with you.

“mm, can’t get off on your own huh? need my help.” she urged you to reply and when you didn’t she pulled your chin in order to face her.

“y-yeah, need you to help m-me.” her fingertips were brushing against your clothed clit, causing your words to break up in a stutter. she enjoyed how desperate you sounded beneath her touch, her words rendering you more and more flustered.

“so pathetic aren’t you.” her words were harsh because she knew it turned you on. you were nodding without realising what you were agreeing to, too focused on the filthy words leaving her mouth to ponder on their meaning. she chuckled into your neck, her warm tongue soothing the bruises she’d created.

“jen-jenna, please.” her hands pulled down your panties before she began to play with your wetness, spreading it around and earning choked whines from your throat.

“hm, who are you so wet for baby?” she teased but you didn’t have the strength to reply as she lowered her head between your thighs. her tongue laid flat against your clit, tasting your arousal while her fingers toyed with your entrance.

“f-fuck.” instinctively, your thighs shut around her head, making her hiss.

“open wide for me.” she instructed, looking up to see you fisting the sheets with your head thrown back. however when you had relaxed, you’d managed to comply with her request.

“that’s it.” she affirmed, her mouth latching onto your heat once again. you were soon returned to your previous state, your mouth an exit for all sorts of pornographic noises. you physically couldn’t keep quiet. and when you began grinding against her tongue, she groaned into you, the pleasure of devouring you finally expressed.

“oh my god, jenna please- please keep going.” she smirked into your pussy, flicking her tongue over your clit, and darting it in and out of your entrance. it felt so good. she was too good.

“fuck, jenna. so close, can i-i.” your eyes were shut as the pleasure built up, so close to your release.

“mhm.” she nodded, her face still buried in your arousal, bringing you to the edge and helping you ride it out once that chord has snapped. you felt yourself grow warm as the pleasure consumed you, clenching around her tongue. she came up to kiss you, her tongue sure to penetrate your lips so that you could taste yourself.

“am i forgiven?” she smiled and you couldn’t help shoving her playfully at the look she was giving you.

“yeah, i’d say so.”

#jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega smut #jenna ortega imagine #jenna ortega fanfic #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x fem reader #jenna marie ortega #jenna x reader #jenna ortega x female reader #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega angst

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amongemeraldclouds · 7 months ago

Text

not being romantic

Jess Mariano may be cute, possibly charming, but he is most definitely annoying. He certainly can’t hold a candle to your secret pen pal who’s smart, loves books, and aspires to be an author. Or can he?

Jess Mariano x f!Reader

Warning: no use of y/n, mostly fluff, some angst, cursing, suggestiveness. This fic is set after he left Stars Hollow.

✿ Masterlist | 3.3k words

The cafe buzzed with the rush of customers lined up for their afternoon caffeine fix. Coffee machines droned on churning coffee as sunlight streamed through the windows and the smell of baked goods wafted through the air.

You smirked at Jess Mariano before you called the customer to hand them their drink. You proceeded to add another point to your scoreboard, waving your arm for emphasis. He rolled his eyes at your dramatics and hurried up, adding whipped cream to the drink he was preparing.

Everything was always a game with him. Who could get the highest amount of tips? Who could guess the new customer's coffee order? Who could make the most convincing foreign accent?

Today’s game was: who could make the fastest coffee order?

“You’ve gotten better,” he observed as you grabbed a cup for the next customer. “Aren’t you glad to have had an incredible instructor like me?”

You scoffed, “more like an incredible loser if you don’t hurry up with that order. Just because you taught me, doesn’t mean I’d go easy on you, Mariano,” you taunt, narrowing your eyes for emphasis.

He shook his head with a smile, “I expected nothing less from you.” He made his way to the other end of the counter to call the customer and handed them their drink.

Another busy shift flew by and before you knew it, it was time to close down the cafe.

You grabbed the scoreboard, beaming with pride. “I won! You can now call me the Queen of Speed, Barista Extraordinaire. Bow down before your queen.”

Jess looked up from where he was wiping the counter with a flat expression. “I’ll call you the Queen of Clean if you help me with these last few tables?”

You frowned at him and stuck your tongue out, of course he had a whole arsenal of retorts with him at any given moment. You grabbed the towel and disinfectant spray from behind the counter and moved to wipe down the tables. “You’re no fun, but I’ll let it slide since you now owe me a favor.”

“As long as I don’t have to help you dispose of a body then it’s fine,” he replied, eyebrow raised.

You rolled your eyes, “if I ever need to dispose a body, it would probably be yours.”

“Are you confessing to something you’ll commit? I don’t think that’s very wise.”

“I’m not planning anything,” you sighed, pinching your nose. The conversation was getting more and more off topic by the second. “You, however, will be the dea*h of me.”

“I’ll add you to the waitlist,” he nodded as he set aside the towel and grabbed the key, ready to close for the evening. Of course that wasn't the first time that line was directed at him.

“You’re just trying to avoid what you owe me. Stop deflecting, Mariano,” you accused, heading towards him to return the cleaning materials. “I need your help with my toaster, it stopped working and I can’t afford to get it fixed or replaced. Can you help me with that?”

“Of course, anything for the Queen of Speed,” he replied.

“You forgot Barista Extraordinaire,” you added helpfully.

Jess just shook his head as if to say, I can’t win with you. He fought the smile that threatened to break across his features. Perhaps you too had your own arsenal of comebacks.

With the final turn of the key, the door swung in and you and Jess headed into your tiny apartment. It was a studio that’s three steps away from the kitchen, five steps away from the bathroom, and ten steps away from the bed. You liked to keep it simple, minimalistic. It definitely had nothing to do with the cheap rent.

“Welcome to my apartment. It’s not much but it’s home,” you said, gesturing around the place.

“It’s cozy and it’s very you,” he remarked.

You folded your arms and stared at him, “I can’t tell if that’s an insult or a compliment.”

“Let me see. Second hand furniture, potted plants around the area, and the artwork looks similar to your napkin doodles. Don’t think I didn’t notice them. It’s a mosaic of different things, but you managed to tie it all together and make it work. It’s just like you to make good out of a potentially bad situation,” he observed.

“Slow down there or you’ll end up hosting shows about house tours,” you teased. “And hey, I’ll take the compliment. Who knew Jess Mariano could be nice?”

He shrugged, “I just call it like I see it.”

You took the three steps necessary to reach the kitchen. “Here’s the troublemaker, by the way. Not you, well, aside from you,” you amended and pointed to the toaster. “Not sure what’s wrong, it just stopped working.”

He approached you and it struck you just how small the kitchen was, certainly not big enough for two. When you turned to speak to him, all the words left your mind as you realized you’re only inches away from him. Heat crept up your cheeks and you blinked.

Jess smirked at your reaction, keenly aware of the effect he had to you. That cocky bastard. He leaned in a bit closer and your breath hitched. “You know, if you just wanted me over at your place, there’s a lot of other fun things I can help you with.” You scrunched your nose and took a step back, immediately transported to the area you considered your bedroom. “If that’s your way of confessing your feelings for me, it’s not very romantic at all. Thought you’d have more game than that, Mariano,” you hedged.

“Oh, that’s because I’m not trying to be romantic. If I were trying....” he said, taking a step forward, closing the distance you tried to place between you. He brushed the hair away from your cheek, the touch so unexpectedly tender coming from Jess. You took in how soft his lips looked up close.

When he touched the side of your face, your attention returned to his soulful eyes. “...I’d do something like this,” he concluded, his breath against your lips like the ghost of a kiss. That’s all it took for him to steal the breath from your lungs.

You’re disoriented when cool air greets you again as he took a step back and the only trace left is the fading warmth from where his hand caressed your cheek. “But like I said, I’m not trying to be romantic,” he shrugged.

You cleared your throat, brushing off the lingering heat of the interaction. You ignored the pang of disappointment that hit you. Besides, someone else already had your heart, this was nothing but a silly little crush. “Well can you please try to fix my toaster?” you asked, trying to stay on topic as always.

“Sure, I have tools at home. I can take it with me and bring it back when I’m done.”

You nodded, “okay thank you. Let me just grab a bag you can carry it in.”

He scanned the room while you opened the cabinet to grab a reusable bag.

“Why do you have lots of mail?” He asked, thumbing through the pile of opened envelopes on your kitchen counter.

You mulled over the question, unsure how much you wanted to share with Jess Mariano and risk a round of his teasing. Then again, you could handle Jess. “Well, there’s this guy I really like. We send each other letters. If you really want to know what romantic is, Mariano, it’s hand written letters. No one bothers to write them anymore. There’s something sweet and sincere about it.”

“Who’s the lucky guy?”

“I’m not really sure. I got his first letter from the bookstore I frequent, the employee handed it to me and I asked him to hand back my reply. We just kept going from there, I think the mystery just adds to the romance.”

Jess shot you a worried look. “You mean to say, you’re corresponding with a complete stranger? For all you know he’s hiding his identity because he’s a stalker or a serial killer.”

“Please, he is not. He is smart, funny, and he’s writing a book. I just don’t feel like he’s that type of person.”

“You’re going off this based on your feelings? I don’t think that’s wise or safe.”

“Jess, it’s fine. There’s nothing to worry about,” you replied, having had enough of him for the day. After handing him the bag with the broken toaster, you shoved him towards the door and out from your apartment, wishing him a good night.

“That was quick,” you said as you headed out of the cafe and walked towards Jess’ apartment to retrieve your now functional toaster.

Jess shrugged, “it was no big deal, just had a few loose screws to reattach. Speaking of loose screws, how about that imaginary boyfriend of yours? Finally decide to reveal himself?”

You sighed, Jess had been on your case the whole week since you told him about your mysterious crush. Needless to say, you regretted telling him about it. “No, but he hasn’t written to me recently,” you pondered. “He must be busy writing his book.”

“Or planning your untimely demise,” he retorts.

“Jess, I swear,” you grit your teeth, “I’ll be planning your untimely demise if you don’t drop it. Why do you care so much? Are you jealous? Is that what this is about?”

“Well I’m trying to look out for a coworker, why does this have to be about me? But hey, I’ll drop it,” he relented. “Besides, I won today so you owe me a favor.”

You groaned, but don’t say anything further. He won fair and square, you were ready to accept your fate.

Jess continued, “My uncle sent some food last night and I have a lot more than I can finish myself. Help me with that before you leave with your toaster?”

“Jess Mariano,” you narrowed your eyes at him, “are you asking me out for dinner?”

“No,” he quickly said and then caught himself. “We’re not going out, we’re dining in. Besides if I were being romantic, I might bring you flowers, pick you up, take you somewhere nice. So this,” he said, pointing between him and you, “is not me being romantic.”

“And there goes Mr. Defensive,” you smirked. Of course he was not being romantic, not to you. He had a hundred and one ways to tease and annoy you but never to charm you. Still, you couldn’t help the way it killed you just a little inside.

“I swear if you tell me this is where the magic happens, I will smack your head,” you deadpan as Jess opened the door to his apartment.

“Why does that turn me on?” He teased. Your face twisted in confusion and disgust and Jess laughed triumphantly, having drawn out a reaction from you. You had no idea you were adorable, he thought.

“Just welcome to my home then,” he said.

You stepped in, admiring his cozy space. You imagined a messy home with leftover containers and soda cans strewn about reeking of old laundry and faded furniture. You had little to no expectations at all.

Instead what greeted you was a small space, similar to yours. The bed was made, blanket tucked in neat corners and the furniture, while undoubtedly secondhand, was well maintained. If anything, the mismatched pillows against the pale blue sofa and the sanded down wooden table gave it personality. It smelled like subtle household cleaners and carried the scent that is so distinctly Jess, a mixture of soap and sweat, plus a hint of cologne he would never admit to wearing.

“It’s very you,” you remarked, “and I don’t mean that as a bad thing.”

He shrugged, handing you your toaster, “I’ll take it as a compliment.”

“Thanks again for the toaster. Now there’s only one troublemaker here in this room,” you quipped as you move towards his kitchen to help him set the dinner table.

“That’s definitely you,” he replied, handing you the plates and utensils while he moved to heat up the food from the fridge. “Hand me the glasses over there?” He asked, pointing to the drawers on the opposite end.

You nodded, setting down the plates on the table and headed towards the drawer. “Well, I’ll let it slide just this time because you’re feeding me and I can’t say no to free food. Thank you Jess,” you said, a small hint of affection blooming in your chest.

You opened the first drawer and found only papers. You were about to close it to check the next drawer when the familiar edge of stationery caught your eye. It was exactly the type of paper you smiled at for hours on end, trying to memorize each word. Curiosity got the better of you and you lifted a half written letter to your eyes. A half written letter addressed to you.

A storm of emotions struck you then: confusion, hurt, and anger. All this time. The boy who weaseled his way into your heart, who called you cute in his first letter and wanted to get to know you. Who charmed you into the romantic idea of secret identities like spies undercover. Who shared your love for books and had the best recommendations that made you feel seen like no one ever has. Who spoke about his love for writing with a passion that inspired you.

All this time it was Jess Mariano.

All this time it was a lie.

Just another one of his games.

“What about those gla—” he stopped mid-sentence when he turned back and saw you reading his letter.

“Fuck,” he exhaled softly as heat crept into his cheeks.

You looked at him, fire burning in your eyes. “Is that all you have to say, Mr. Fantastic Writer?” You huffed, trying to quell the tears that threatened to choke you.

Jess opened his mouth and closed it, wanting to say a million words and failing. You watched the war raging in his head.

“Well then indeed, fuck!” You exclaimed in frustration. “And fuck you too. I know you love your games Jess, but you can’t just go around playing with other people’s feelings.”

You retreat and grabbed your things, shaking your head. “God, I feel like such a fool.”

You threw the door behind you and was a few steps away when you realized you left your toaster. Shame and betrayal marched with you as you opened his door again and found him still frozen where you left him.

“I’m just here for my toaster, which I actually need. Unlike you, I don’t need anything from you, Jess. I’ve read and heard enough,” you said, your voice wavered at the end and tears spilled down your cheeks.

You turned away from embarrassment, toaster in hand, and ran the rest of the way home. He didn’t deserve to hear your sobbing. He didn’t even deserve any of your tears. He was just a stupid boy that your stupid heart fell for. No big deal.

The next week passed in a blur. Unable to switch shifts with anyone else, you called in sick at the cafe and lived life between your university, the library, and your apartment. Never mind that you needed the pay, you could drown in instant noodles for all you cared. It didn’t matter anyway. A broken heart never cared for a full stomach.

That Friday, you were about to call it a night when the doorbell rang. The was odd, you thought, you weren’t expecting anyone.

“You’ve got the wrong—” you stopped mid-sentence when you saw the last person you ever wanted to see, Jess Mariano holding a bouquet of flowers and books. If it were any other day, it might have sent butterflies to your stomach. Now all it did was fan the flames of your anger because it was much easier to be angry than hurt.

You slammed the door close but Jess stopped it with his outstretched arm. “Are you trying to get yourself injured?” You accused and you hated it, how much you still cared.

“Please, I just need to talk,” he said, pain and sincerity etched in his handsome face.

You sighed and let him in, not wanting to cause a scene at the hallway. “You have five minutes,” you held up your hand for emphasis.

“Fine, five minutes,” he breathed, steeling himself. "Here’s a story for you: I met this girl working at a cafe. She’s smart and quick witted, she never runs out of comebacks. Her smile makes my day and I needed to see more of it so I came up with these games. And damn it, I looked forward to going to work every day because of her.

There was a nagging at the back of my mind to get to know her better. I wanted her to get to know me too, but I have a track record of screwing things up so I sent a letter. Just one couldn’t hurt, right?

Clearly, I underestimated her. One letter was never going to be enough. I loved hearing about her dreams, her stories, the inside jokes we created along the way. Without meaning to, I fell for her. I fell for you. It was never a game for me, all of it was real. Is still real.

When I heard you liked your secret pen pal too, I didn’t know if I should reveal myself or just disappear, let you forget me. Of course, I screwed things up again. I’m so sorry, I never meant to hurt you but clearly I have. Would you give me a second chance? I’m not good at this but I want to try."

He’s breathless by the time he ends his speech and you take a moment as the words settled in. No wonder he discouraged your interest in your secret pen pal, which also turned out to be him.

You sighed, “you really screwed it up.” Your heart broke all over again only to come back whole together because he did like you. All those silly gestures he brushed off really did mean something. And the boy you loved through letters and your cafe crush turned out to be the same person.

You pondered his question. The way he went about it was all wrong, but a second chance might be worth a shot. “Fine, we can start over, but you’ll have to make it up to me. You owe me unlimited favors.”

“I'll fix all the toasters you need,” he said, presenting you with the bouquet of flowers and books.

“Oh you’ll have to do more than that. I have a broken bulb on the ceiling, the heater needs fixing, and the microwave will definitely break tomorrow,” you taunted him, accepting his bouquet nevertheless.

He just smiled, “I have a lot to make up for, but I’ll do it for you.” He moved closer to you, bringing the bouquet to rest on the kitchen counter, so he can wrap his arms around you. “You’re worth it,” he whispered in your ear and you hugged him back, fighting off the delicious chill that ran through your back from his words. Being in his arms felt so right.

“You like me,” you sing, teasing him like a child and you enjoy the way his chest rumbles against you as he laughs.

“Don’t let it get to your head,” he said, kissing your cheek. “Besides, you like me back.”

You removed yourself from his hug, already missing his warm embrace. “I never said I liked you,” you teased.

Mock hurt danced across his features, “what’s not to like?”

You laughed at his arrogance, the need to touch him overwhelming everything else. “Fine,” you relented, “we can call it even.”

You closed the distance this time, “just to be clear, this is you being romantic?”

He smirked, wrapping his arms around your waist again. “Yes, this is me being romantic and I will show you so much more,” he said, bringing his lips to yours with a thousand unsaid promises you were about to discover.

✿ Masterlist

Author's note:

✿ When I came across a Jess Mariano fic, I just knew I had to write one too. Jess and his sarcastic ass in a (sort of) rivals to lovers trope, heck yes. ✿ Thanks to my lovely wife @pizzaapeteer for encouraging me to write this all those weeks ago ♡ ✿ Published this fic from a cafe, very on brand for the story.

#jess mariano #jess mariano x you #jess mariano x reader #jess mariano fluff #jess mariano imagine #gilmore girls #amongemeraldcloudswrites

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whore-4-drewstarkey · 8 months ago

Text

Jealous of The Past: Milo Manheim x Fem!Reader

Summary: Y/N brings milo back to her home state to meet her family for the first time all while attending her mom’s works annual family picnic celebration at an event venue. while attending however milo starts to notice a worker flirting with Y/N and gets jealous.

Warning: milo being jellyyyyyyy. fluff, angst?, suggestive comments/content (my favvv), awkward interactions, language, mean siblings, and i am sure i’m forgetting stuff.

A/N: let’s just say my mom’s work has a family picnic at an event venue i used to work at every year and the guy i like works there still with his dad…. and side note: he would lead me on all the time and then rejected me :,(. and i found out today that he blocked me on socials…. this is feeding the flame and encouraging me even more to write this to feel better about it :) I hope you all enjoy this like I did while writing it! PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT A PREQUEL!!! like when they first met and started dating :) ALSO, thank you all so much for being patient with me. means so so so much<3 feedback would be gladly appreciated:))

“hey mi, i just got off the phone with my mom…” Y/N spoke as she waltzed into her and milo’s living room, plopping onto the couch, she layed her head in his lap, her legs draped across the rest of the couch. seconds later, she noticed he’d been on facetime with his own mother, so she rolled over onto her stomach to face the camera.

“say hi to my mo- ow that hurt” he chuckled as she accidentally elbowed milo in the ribcage, while attempting the roll over, but stopped when he handed her the phone to say hello to his mother.

“sorry babe, put a shirt on then” she smirked as she placed her ice cold left hand on his bare abdomen, making him yell.

“stop it Y/N your hands feel like you’ve just done a polar plunge. mom tell her to stop” milo whined to his mom, shoving his face into view on the camera of his phone.

“hi camryn. it still feels so weird to say your first name. i still want to call you ms manheim” Y/N giggled at milo’s mom on the screen, waving to her.

“milo, shhhh. Y/N is talking, don’t interrupt her. go put a shirt on if you think her hands are cold. and hello dear! how are you? and i already told you, don’t ever call me ms. manheim ever again. you’re family at this point so call me camryn!”

“but m-“ milo began before Y/N put her free hand over his mouth to shut him up from complaining about her cold hands, only for him to try and bite it.

“ew milo, stop you’re turning into lou” Y/N chuckled as she wiped his own spit onto his chest, causing him to chuckle and plant a kiss to her temple. “and i’m doing good. i was just on the phone with my mom and she wants to ‘meet the man you’re living with that i nor anyone else has ever seen’. she’s very over dramatic” Y/N gave air quotes before she sits her hand back on milo’s abdomen, causing him to screech again.

“Y/N stop touching my stom- wait your mom wants to meet me?” milo began to complain but stopped mid-sentence when he registered what she’d said.

“wait, she doesn’t know that you two are dating? i mean as a mother i understand her concerns love, i do. i don’t think she’s being dramatic at all” camryn spoke in honesty to her sons girlfriend.

“well, she knows i’m dating a guy named milo. that’s it. she’s never seen him. but to be fair we didn’t want a lot of people knowing because i know it’ll get into the media and i just wanted to wait it out as long as possible before i’m shown off. because with media comes hate and i don’t take kindly to hate. and my mom has quite a loud mouth. can’t keep anything hush hush” Y/N began to explain to milo’s mother as milo just gazed down at his girlfriend who continues to lay in his lap. “it’s her works annual family picnic celebration. so to sum it up, she wants me to bring milo with me to have the family meet him. it’s at a private event venue and it’s the same one they go to every year. it’s always fun”

Y/N began to answer milo’s question next as she looks up into his eyes, “yes, mi, my mom wants to meet you. trust me though, she’s not the one you should worry about. you should worry more about my dad maybe? or my older brother and big sister. my little brother will love you though”

“ugh i don’t know how i’m going to survive this” he groaned out as he throws his head back. he begins to open his mouth again, as he bent down to look into the camera of his phone. “mom, as the brilliant and wonderful super mom you are, do you have any advice for me?”

“oh milito, same advice that i’d given you years ago, be your authentic self. you are a great boy. they will love you. but you should also be asking Y/N since she knows her family best” she smiled sweetly to her boy. she was so beyond grateful for the simple fact that he still came to her for advice when things got even the slightest bit tricky for him.

“baby, any pointers?” he cooed down at his girlfriend who still continued to lay in his lap. one of his hands lies draped over her abdomen, while the other plays with her hair.

“oh milito, where to begin” she mocks his childhood nickname.

“ugh Y/N you know i don’t have to let you lay in my lap. you’re so short and tiny i could easily pick you up and put you on the other end of the couch” he groaned for what felt like the twentieth time that night all while Y/N chuckles as camryn began to speak through the phone again.

“milo…. be nice to her” she chuckled as she narrowed her eyes at her son.

“okay okay, but….” and with that he slid one arm under her legs and the other under her arms and lifts Y/N and starts to move her, but not before she begins to whine.

“milo no, stop” Y/N frowned and began again “i just wanted to cuddle” she says as she pouts her lip and lays her head against his lower stomach as she wraps her free arm and hand around him.

“milo i said be nice. stop being a menace. i'm gonna let you two lovebirds go. and please give lou some loving for me. love you both. have a great night”

“love you mom and i will be nice. i’m always nice, especially to Y/N/N” milo says as he blew a kiss to the camera once he’s sat back down.

“bye camryn. love you loads” Y/N says as she has her head nestled into milo’s stomach, and proceeds to also blow a kiss to the camera before they hang up.

“okay Y/N, now tell me, how should i prepare for this? and when is it love?”

“just be yourself. but be careful with what you say”

“what does that even mean? what do you mean by that?” milo freaked out as he rubbed his hands over his face in worry.

“milo, calm down. so when you talk to my dad specifically, just don’t mention politics. he gets way too into it. he’s a great man, has a big heart, would do anything for the ones he loves, but is not great with the politics topic. regardless, he will love you, because he will see how happy i am and how much i love you” Y/N cooed as she sat up in milo’s lap to look up into his eyes.

“good to know. but i never bring up politics in the first conversations with anyone. what about your older brother? what do i need to know about him?” milo asked as his large hand moved down to rub Y/Ns upper thigh.

“he’s a big goof. he’s 8 years older than me, so he’s insanely over protective, so at first he’s gonna interrogate you and ask about our relationship. be open and honest, which i know you will be. once he sees your goofy side, he will fold. especially when he sees how much you make me smile” Y/N spoke as she caressed milo’s cheek, rubbing her thumb over his cheek bone. “continue with your sister” milo smiled as he leaned into her hand.

“now my sister is who you need to worry about most. she’s unpredictable. you and her definitely align politically, but she hates men, minus our dad, brothers and her boyfriend. she’s gonna try to dig deep. she will be blunt and ask some super personal questions, specifically about us. don’t answer the intimate questions. she will be so mad that i didn’t tell her that i finally slept with a guy and will be super offended. i don’t want her to take it out of you. she’s a fireball for sure. i won’t lie, i don’t know if she will love you or not, because it’s a 50/50. but she probably will” Y/N let out overwhelming information about her sister.

“oh. is she the only one who won’t like me?” milo frowned. he definitely isn’t used to people not liking him. everyone loved milo. he connects with everyone he’s ever met it felt like.

“i didn’t say she wouldn’t like you. i just said it’s a 50/50. my mom will also be intrusive about those super personal intimate questions. but i don’t like my family knowing my business. so avoid answering them. make a hand signal to me if anything. but i know she will love you. probably won’t shut up about you once she meets you. she watched a lot of your mom when i was growing up, on ghost whisperer” Y/N chuckled as she looks into her boyfriends scared eyes. “stop worrying. you’ll do just fine” she smiled as she leans in, and planted her plump lips onto his, giving him a few kisses before pulling away.

“and as for my little brother, you and him will probably get along more than i’d like to admit. he’s more serious, but you two think a lot alike. and you two have the biggest hearts and are both super selfless. ew i hate comparing you two. except he’s kinda a dick when he’s mad at me” Y/N chuckled as milo giggled as she spoke.

“okay i’m gonna do great, but you never answered my question, when is this?” milo asked.

“next weekend, in my home state of kansas. you’ve never been, have you?”

“next weekend?! that’s like no time to prepare. and when would i — an LA born and raised guy, who now lives in NYC — have ever gone to kansas of all places? no offense that is”

“fair point. and you’ll do fine. is your mom coming into the city this week at all? or do you want lou to stay with griff?” Y/N asked, and with the sound of his name, little lou ran from around the corner onto their shared couch into their laps.

“ugh lou, you hear that? Y/Ns dragging your dad from you! i’m gonna miss you so much i might cry” milo exaggerated to his dog, lou, who just licked away at milo’s face.

“and i think griff can watch him. my mom has filming to do in LA still” milo continued.

“ugh. you sound like my father when he talks to his dog bax. there’s something you two can bond over” Y/N groaned as she pushed her left hand to milo’s abdomen to help her stand up.

“hey, wait! where are you going? i thought you wanted to cuddle?” he asked as he gently grabbed her wrist.

“i do i do. i just need to go shower. my mom called before i could even take one. i need to wash my hair”

“can i at least come with?” milo asks cheekily.

“come on” Y/N smiles as she grabbed the hand of his that was wrapped around her wrist just mere seconds ago.

“okay, so my mom said to text her or call her or whatever when we land. she offered to pick us up, but i told her we’d be fine and that we rented a car”

“is this flight almost over? because to be honest babe, i’m not comprehending anything you’re saying. i just want off this plane” milo pouted, as he laid his head against Y/Ns shoulder. in return, she started to scratch his head of curls.

“yes love, that’s why i was telling you the plan for when we get off. we have like 15 more minutes. are you feeling okay?” Y/N softly asked her boyfriend who lies against her left shoulder. milo had always let her have the window seat, as that was her favorite, even though he’d typically sit there when he flew.

“yeah, just nervous about this flight, and meeting your family tomorrow” he sighs out softly.

“you’re gonna do just fine, sweet boy. when we get off the plane and get our rental, we will head straight to our hotel. and we can just cuddle” Y/N cooed as she kisses the top of his head, hearing a hum of agreement in return on his part.

“here we are. i booked the suite for us. even though we’re only staying for a few days, now i don’t know about you, but i’m gonna go shower, change, and get ready for bed because i’m exhausted” Y/N smiled as she sat her luggage down next to the bed the two would be sharing for the next few nights.

“you do that babe, i’m gonna get the clothes i’m gonna wear tomorrow out” milo spoke sweetly as he pecked her cheek. Y/N grinned as she opened her suitcase to grab her toiletries, clothes and skin care items before heading to the large bathroom connected to their room.

once Y/N was finished with her shower, and wrapped up in a complimentary robe, she began to do her nightly routine, only to be met with milo, who was getting ready to take his own shower.

milo stood shirtless, only in his boxers as he looked down at Y/N, “i’ll only be ten minutes. please give me another rundown when i’m done with my shower?”

Y/N softly laid her small hand slightly above his waist, on his bare side, looking up at him, “of course. i may have left some things out anyways” and with that milo leant down and pecked Y/N on the lips softly, before proceeding to undress fully and enter the shower.

shortly after Y/N did her nightly routine, she walked out of the bathroom and to milo’s suitcase, digging through it for a t-shirt of his to wear to bed. once she found it, she tiredly put on her underwear and then his t-shirt and climbed into bed, where she laid waiting for her boyfriend.

“okay, so you said you may have forgotten some stuff? what else do i need to know babe?” milo asked as he walked into the bedroom, ruffling his dark curls with a towel, in nothing but his boxers. he turned around and walked briefly back into the bathroom to hang the towel and quickly ran back into the bedroom and on top of Y/N as she quietly giggled below the tall man.

“my love, no offense but you are too heavy, get off of me. not all of us can be six-foot plus. scoot over” she keeps giggling as she attempted to shove his large frame off of her.

he scoffed lightly, turning to look at her in disbelief, “six-foot-three baby. don’t sell me short. and i can’t help you’re tiny. you’re like so short”

“quit griping and teasing me and get under the damn covers already” she sassed back. he silently obeyed with a smirk plastered on his face. he was wrapped around her finger. she knew it. and so did he. but milo didn’t care one bit. once he was under the covers, he wrapped his arm around her, and snaked his hand down her side, brushing up his shirt she’d been wearing, to rest against her bare side, pulling her closer to his bare chest.

“will you please give me another run down already?”

“milo, you sound like a broken record player”

“Y/N come onnnnnn” he teased her.

“ugh, okay fine. so we need to be there by two-thirty. that’s what time i told my mom we’d be there. which means she’s gonna expect us to be there right on the dot. i’m also assuming everyone in the family knows i’m bringing a guy so they will all be there right at two o clock to gossip and to be there when we arrive” Y/N mumbles against milo’s chest as she spoke of the next days plan. she softly scratched right below his sternum just the way he enjoyed before she continued again, “another thing you should know, i used to work there at this event venue for two years when i was nineteen up until i was twenty-one. so don’t be surprised if people come up to me and start talking and asking a bunch of questions”

“okay noted. and what’s the dress code for this thing again? i set out my light washed jeans, birk slide ons and my brazil tank. will that work?”

“yes. that will be perfect. especially since it will be decently hot tomorrow afternoon. kansas city weather can be crazy in the early fall. also, do me a favor”

“what would that be babe?” milo asked as he arched a brow.

“wear those damn glasses. you always look so good in them” Y/N smiled as she snuggled her face further into milo’s chest.

“i will for you i guess. love you, ya sweet, short, queen. also, what did you decide to wear?”

“heyyy i can’t help that. but at least you called me a queen. i love you too mi. and i’m gonna wear that light green tie front blouse with my medium washed levi’s curvy styled flared jeans and my green retro new balances that you bought me a few months ago to match yours” Y/N said as she propped her chin up on his chest. he leaned down to kiss her lips softly a few times, before pulling away. “i love that top on you. okay go to sleep now” milo mumbled against her lips as his free hand that hadn’t been against her side, moved to grip her thigh, moving it up to rest against his lower stomach.

“okay mi, we’re almost there. take the next exit and then you’ll drive down this road for like two minutes and you’ll see the entrance to the ranch”

“okay, but the tesla is doing the driving” milo chuckled as his right hand gripped Y/Ns left thigh as the rental drove itself to their destination.

“quit being such a smartass” Y/N giggled as she glared to her left to look at her lover.

“okay but you love it. you can’t tell me you don’t” milo smirked his signature smirk back at his girl. Y/N just sighed and smiled, shaking her head in defeat.

just as they were pulling into the location, Y/N family were becoming more and more impatient as they waited to meet her boyfriend.

“mom, when is Y/N gonna be here?” mikeala, Y/N big sister asked their mother.

“i told your sister it starts at 2 o’clock. she said she’d be here at 2:30. it’s 2:25. so any minute. you know how she is when she’s getting ready. just like your guys’ grandfather, takes her sweet time”

“so, what do you think her boyfriends like?” james, Y/N older brother asked their mom.

“i’m not sure. i hope he’s nice and good to her. especially if she’s staying with him. but, i won’t lie to you, i don’t know much about him at all. she wouldn’t say much when i asked. wouldn’t even give me a last name” Y/N mother, Y/M/N spoke with an ounce of concern.

“i bet he’s just like most men, horrible” mikeala mumbled out.

“hey, we’re not all bad” will, Y/N younger brother blurted out, even though he was typically quiet.

“will, you know how your sister is gonna be, don’t even bother” Y/N father, Y/F/N spoke as he walked up to the rest of the family.

“oh wait, i think that’s them maybe?” Y/M/N spoke, as she saw a glimpse of Y/N through the tesla window.

“is that-“ james began to speak before will continued his thought. “a tesla? yes, it is” will finished his thought.

“go fucking figure. he’s probably a nepotism baby if she met him in New York City. that’s all i’m saying” mikeala grumbled out, as the rest of the family waited for Y/N to make her way up through the entrance of the venue to where they all were.

“mikeala, be nice. and you three, need to give your sister some room. she hasn’t been back in almost a year. let your father and i talk to her first, then you three can have at it” their mother said to Y/N three siblings as her and milo began to make their way to the entrance.

“babe, wait. what if they don’t like me? then what?” milo spoke out in concern as he gently grabbed Y/N wrist, pulling her back behind a vehicle before they could even enter the event venue.

“mi, for starters they’ll love you. and if they don’t i really don’t give a fuck. got it? i love you regardless” Y/N smiled up at her tall boyfriend. she then stood on her tippie toes, grabbing his neck gently, to pull his tall figure down to her short one for a passionate kiss. he smiled into the kiss as his hands found her hips in the midst, giving them a gentle squeeze. “i love you always” he mumbled against Y/N lips, proceeding to kiss her a few more times before pulling away.

“better?” she questioned him, as he proceeded to nod in confirmation as she dragged his tall, lanky body to the entrance, as they both giggled with smiles as they made their way to Y/N parents. right before doing so, Y/N stopped abruptly, pushing milo back and around a corner, turning to milo blushing. “hold on, you got some of my lip gloss on your lips. the last thing i need is them making comments”

“oh my gosh. will you wipe it off for me please?” milo asked as his cheeks began to become flushed. he let out one of his hoarse giggles in the process.

“lean down baby” she giggled as she met him halfway, by standing on her tippie toes, milo holding her hips to balance her like he always did. Y/N brought her thumb up to his lips and wiped them off until she felt satisfied, all while milo kept trying to not smile or laugh, which would interfere with Y/N wiping them off.

“okay there you go. all good. i would kiss you again but then we would be back at square one” Y/N blushed up to milo.

“accurate statement so i’m gonna give you a kiss here instead” he chuckled as he leant down and planted a singular kiss on the base of her jaw.

“okay, come on lover boy” Y/N smiled in awe as she dragged milo back to the way to where her parents were, approaching them with milo’s large hand in her small dainty one.

“mom! dad!” Y/N cheered as she let go of milo’s hand for a few minutes to give them both big hugs.

“Y/N hunny. you have to come out and visit more often!” Y/N mother spoke as she engulfed her youngest daughter into a warm hug. she pulled away and continued, “and you must be the mystery boyfriend?” she questioned to milo, who stood, towering over Y/N from behind. and everyone else from the looks of it.

“milo! milo manheim. mrs. Y/L/N it’s so nice to finally meet you.” he smiled widely to Y/N mother as she brought him into a hug.

“mom, you remember ghost whisperer?” Y/N smirked to her mother.

“of course i do. what an iconic show that was all those years ago”

“well his mom is camryn manheim. she plays delia in the show” Y/N began to smirk widely as milo gently laid his large hand against the small of her back, blushing as she proudly showed him off.

“no way! how’d you two meet then? and milo call me Y/M/N. i insist” Y/N mother spoke once more to milo as he smiled in return.

“i was working as a side hustle at that theatre as a bartender slash concession stand worker and he came through my line it just happened. we bonded over something and became friends. he’s a very friendly guy.” Y/N giggled as she wrapped her arms around his left forearm.

“dad, you’ve stayed so quiet. milo, meet my dad. dad, meet milo” Y/N smiled as two of her favorite men finally met. milo took a step forward and firmly shook Y/N fathers hand.

“nice to meet you sir” milo spoke kindly.

“you too. you can just call me Y/D/N like everyone else” Y/D/N spoke back to milo. “so milo, what do you do?” he continued.

milo blushed and chuckled before he continued to speak, Y/N right next to him for support. “well sir, i’m an actor. growing up i was always on set with my mom and i just gradually fell in love with the art of it all and got recruited for a movie at sixteen when i was doing theatre. it’s pretty fun”

“that’s lovely. i bet your mom is very proud” Y/M/N spoke up sweetly.

“that’d be an understatement mom. she is always telling mi how proud she is any second she gets. she’s the sweetest” Y/N smiled as she looked up at milo.

“well, it’s nice meeting you milo. now Y/N, your siblings are dying to meet him. wouldn’t stop talking since they found out last week you were bringing him” Y/D/N spoke to his youngest daughter.

“oh my” she sighed with a light chuckle. “mi, you ready?” she continued as she looked up at milo.

“as i’ll ever be love” he gently squeezed her small hands with his large ones.

Y/N began to tug gently at milo’s large hand once more as she navigated her way into the pavilion where her three siblings were impatiently waiting. she’d noticed mikeala and james were arguing over who got to talk to her first as she chuckled.

“yo, would you two stop?” Y/N laughed as she stopped once she approached them, milo standing right behind her with his hand instinctively laid at her side.

“dibs!” mikeala yelled as she walked over before james could, while will just stood quietly waiting for his turn.

“Y/N you bitch! how are you? how’s life been? what’s New York City like? and who is this? did you finally sleep with a guy?” mikeala, Y/N big sister went on.

“woah woah woah mikeala slow down. i’m good. life has been so lovely in the city. i want you to meet my boyfriend milo” Y/N began answering her big sisters questions, ignoring the one she had already warned milo about. she soon turned, grabbing milo hand instinctively, looking up at him lovingly, “mi, i want you to meet my big sister, mikeala”

“hey, nice to meet you mikeala. heard a lot about you. names milo manheim. wow baby, i feel like im in an interview” milo waved to Y/N sister and whispered the last part to Y/N.

“wait as in the great, amazing actress camryn manheim? she’s such a legend to women all around. also i hope they were good things spoken about me from Y/N” mikeala spoke as she unknowingly mentioned her sisters boyfriends mother.

“yeah, like her. but honestly, i just call her mom” milo nonchalantly spoke without even thinking about a single thing.

“i’m sorry, what?”

“i’m camryn’s son?” milo spoke with question.

“Y/N, you mean you’ve been keeping this from me? for like how long?” mikeala freaked out.

“i’ve known him for about 13 months, but we’ve been dating for 10? does that sound about right?” Y/N answered her sisters question as a new question arose, turning to look up at milo.

“yeah, because you moved in a month after we became friends. we met in august, so that means it was in september when you moved in and then we started dating three months later in december and it’s now september. it’s all too confusing” milo explained to his small girlfriend.

“you didn’t answer my other question Y/N. tell me all the deets. when did you finally sleep with a guy?” mikeala leaned into her little sisters ear, attempting to whisper, but failed as milo heard. milo giggled when he heard mikeala as she kept pushing her little sister to fess up, but she wasn’t going to budge.

“mikeala, i told you already, i am waiting. i’m not giving that up easily” Y/N spoke with a slight chuckle as she leaned back into milo’s chest. milo just draped his long arms over the front of Y/N body, as Y/N held onto his forearms, all while he held her up with his tall figure.

milo smirked as he opened his mouth, “i’m a good jewish boy”

once mikeala turned around, milo leaned down to Y/N ear and whispered gently, “um that’s… a lie on your part. what i said was the truth”

“she doesn’t have to know” Y/N giggled in a whisper, just as mikeala was turning back around to face them. and in that moment milo had placed a kiss to Y/N cheek softly.

“okay on to the big bro, although you’re taller than him mi” Y/N chuckled once again at her own joke.

Y/N stood back up from leaning against milo’s chest, and walked her way over to her big brother, as she continued to drag milo through it all. milo simply obliged, even though he was so nervous through it all. so far, he felt like her family liked him a little bit, but he wasn’t done meeting them all yet.

“james! i missed you!” Y/N freaked out when she saw her big brother. she let go of milo’s hand and jumped into james’ arms, as her big brother gave her a warm hug. milo, who was standing just behind her smiled wide. he knew she’d missed her family a lot. so it made him over the moon happy, to see her having a blast seeing her whole family again after so long.

“how are you sis? who’s this? i heard you got a boyfriend?!” james started to press his youngest sister for answers to his questions, all while glaring up at milo. sure james was tall, but milo was still taller than him. milo was pretty used to that by now; having a height advantage.

just as Y/N pulled away from her big brother, milo slyly placed his left hand against her lower back all while putting his right hand out to shake james’. grudgingly, james shook milo’s hand, as Y/N stared her big brother down. he was always protective over her. she’d always been so overly trusting and naive. he was constantly worried she was gonna get her heart broken all over again. boys always did that to her. they’d make her feel comfortable, then rip her heart out like it was a sport. she would give them her all and they’d give nothing in return.

“nice to meet you james. i’m milo, but uh i think you have probably already been told that” milo sighed as he scratched the back of his neck.

“so i’ve heard” james let out somewhat aggressively. Y/N glared up at her big brother the moment he did that.

“james knock it off. seriously. i know what you’re thinking” she began as she stopped to look at milo for a second. “baby, give me a minute with my asshole of an older brother. okay?” she spoke softly up at milo. milo smiled weakly, as he grew increasingly more anxious by the second. before he could even get a word of confirmation out, Y/N had placed a gentle kiss to the corner of his lips, making me smile shyly, knowing james was watching.

“james… don't be a dick. i know that you’re just trying to look out her me. i get it. i get that i've been hurt a lot in the past by so many guys. but when i tell you, mi isn’t like them i mean it” she began to lecture her over protective brother. “when i tell you this man pretty much saved me from going homeless in new york city all while i was having a damn mental breakdown i mean it. he has a heart of gold james. so quit treating him like he broke my damn heart when he never did” Y/N kept on to her brother as she continuously jabbed her index finger into his chest with each sentence. “now how about you go say hi properly to my boyfriend”

james walked back over to where milo was nervously waiting for Y/N to get done speaking to her older brother. as soon as she was in arms reach, he gently grabbed her hand out of anxiety. “mi, you good?” she gently asked him as she looked up at him through her long lashes. he in return smiled widely to her with a nod.

“okay, i’m sorry i was just being a dick. can’t help but be overly protective over my baby sister. she just means a lot to me and i worry she will get her heart broken once again. but she told me how you helped her. thank you for that” james smiled sincerely to milo.

looking down at Y/N who had her body leaning into his side, milo spoke softly to his girl, “you told him? i thought you didn’t want anyone to know?”

“he was being a dick to you and so i knew the only way to get through to him was to tell him about how you let me move in when i couldn’t pay my rent” she shyly smiled, slightly embarrassed to admit her own struggles just a mere twelve months ago.

“well, hey, i don’t know why you’re still so embarrassed by it. lou loves you. you’re his mom now” he spoke as he wrapped his arms around her short figure, pulling her closer to him. “speaking of which i miss him” milo continued as he pouted at the mere thought of not having his dog with him.

“i’m sorry, but what? you have a kid?” james slowly began to freak out internally.

“oh woah, no. well, yes, but no. not a human kid. but a- i- i’m a dog dad” milo began to stutter and explain who lou was to her brother.

“a dog dad?”

“uh yeah. lou is the best son ever. he doesn’t back talk me and he loves me unconditionally. what more could you ask for in a son?” milo began as Y/N giggled into his chest when she leaned into it.

“whatever you say man. damn, you sound just like our father when talking about bax” james laughed, as he patted milo’s shoulder before walking away.

“oh my gosh. that was awful” milo began as Y/N pulled away, dragging milo over to the last person he had to meet from her family, will, her genius little brother.

she let go of milo, and ran to will, forcing him to give her a hug against his own will. if it were up to him, there would be no such thing as hugs. he hated them with a passion. “william! how’s school? you still have all A’s right? what’d you get on your geography test? oh also meet milo”

“hi, milo, nice to meet you” will began to shake milo’s hand only after shyly conversing with his sisters boyfriend. will began to speak again, “i got a 98% by the way. and i still have straight A’s. i must graduate college with a 4.0 or i’m gonna lose my mind. i’ve only ever gotten one B in my life in high school and remember that knocked me down four spots on the class rankings”

“geography huh? is that your minor? right? i think that’s what your sister told me” milo questioned will about his college degree choice.

“it’s my minor. well one of them. i have another in spanish. and im majoring in environmental engineering”

“damn bro you’re a genius. sorry, Y/N told me you don’t like it when people say that. and if you ever need any help studying geography, i gotchu. you can either call your sister or she can send you my number and i can help you”

“milo’s really, really good at pointing any and every country in the globe out and correctly naming it. i wish i was joking will, but im not. now in the spanish he only knows a smidge and then nothing about science” Y/N laughed as she spoke to her baby brother.

“oh wow. thank you. i’ll be sure to take you up on that offer eventually. im gonna go get some of that barbecue while they’re still serving it” will smiled politely to Y/N and milo, before walking off.

looking up at milo, Y/N began to speak to him, “william is just super shy. i can already tell he likes you a lot. i can sense with my baby brother that you made him feel comfortable. thank you for that”

“just being myself. my charming, charismatic, somewhat flirtatious self that i’m really trying not to be. i’m so sorry for that part. last thing i need is your family disliking me for being a natural flirt”milo laughed to Y/N.

“hey, don’t apologize for being you. those are all the reasons why i love you and many more” Y/N smiled up at him as she scratched the back of his neck. “oh really? but wait, how much do you love me?” milo smirked his charming smile down to his girlfriend. he continued, “enough to kiss me while you’re family is eyeing us down?”

“you know how much i hate pda, but you also know how much i love you” Y/N smiled as milo’s large hands gripped her waist, pulling her into his tall body, pressing her lightly against his figure, helping balance her as she stood on her tippy toes. she’d moved her small hands from scratching the back of his neck to cup his scruff covered cheeks. milo met her half way, as he leant down to meet her lips mumbling into the kiss while smiling, “mmhm that i do”

pulling away, Y/N spoke, “so do you wanna play the annual bingo they host at these? it’s kinda like a family competition on who gets the most wins within the family”

“oh no, how competitive is your family? because i know how you get when we’re playing catan with our friends” milo chuckled as he still held her hips in his hands as he looked down at her with only pure love within.

“on a scale of 1-10, i’d say about an 8.4. but i think will and my dad are the worst. and im pretty sure you’re the one who’s competitive when it comes to catan” Y/N spoke as she grabbed milo��s hand and dragged him to the huge tent where the bingo game was being played.

“there’s no way you just got your third bingo. Y/N he’s cheating!” mikeala whined to her little sister about milo. milo had just won his third bingo in the last fifty minutes of playing the game. only three other people had won bingos and it was starting to irritate Y/N family with how good of luck milo had had for the game of bingo.

leaning over to Y/N ear, milo whispered, “i thought you said only will and your dad were the hardcore competitive ones? care to tell me why you left out your sisters name baby?”

milo pulled away from Y/N ear, gripping her lower thigh and began to rub it, as she had her legs laying across his lap as they played the game of bingo. she always had to be touching milo in any way anywhere they went. even if it was just in the comfort of their home. they were inseparable. or maybe it was milo who had to be touching her. either way, the two of them both loved each others touch. it always brought comfort to one another. Y/N had always worried about pda in front of her family, but for some reason she realized when it came to milo, all of that anxiety went out the window. she felt at peace when he did it, rather than the anxiety she’d always felt with her ex lovers.

“okay, so maybe i forgot to mention she’s quite competitive as well. she did play volleyball, that’s probably where she picked it up” Y/N smiled as she began to twiddle with the fingers from milo’s hand that had been rubbing her thigh.

“wowww, you don’t say. i didn’t notice that you forgot to mention it” milo teased as the two exchanged smiles. mikeala just looked across the table at her lovesick sister, making her want to vomit. she’d been waiting her whole life to see her sister in love, but now she was already sick of it, just like most siblings would be.

“i’m gonna go get us some drinks, what do you want? corona?” Y/N asked as she began to stand, milo grabbing his wallet for Y/N to take, already knowing she didn’t have cash for the tip. she’d never carried cash. she knew that and so did he.

“yeah that works for me. here, just take my wallet. cash is in it for the tips. you and i both know you don’t carry cash” he smirked up at her followed with a wink.

“ugh, fine. also behave. please don’t say anything stupid. i’ll be right back. if i’m not back in 5, just come looking for me? means i probably ran into someone i know” Y/N giggled as she ruffled milo’s hair, giving him a quick scratch to the top of his shaggy head of curls. “deal.” and with that Y/N walked off to get them drinks, leaving him all alone with her whole family.

“could you two be more disgusting? i swear, my boyfriend and i weren’t even this bad. and even when we showed any ounce of affection you know what Y/N would do?” mikeala began with slight attitude, making milo slightly anxious.

“my guess, she probably pretended to vomit, and say how gross pda is and how much she dislikes it and how she would never be like that” milo let out as he leaned back into his seat with his long legs spread.

“wro- wait. how do you know that?” mikeala laughed with shock.

“yeah, how’d you know that fact?” will asked curiously, as Y/N parents, and all three siblings stared his way, waiting for an answer.

“i- uh- well, i, we were friends before we started dating. so anytime we went out, with our friends, and saw couples being couples she’d rant about how gross it was. or when we’d watch some stupid reality tv show before we’d go to bed, and she’d go on about why she hated it so much and how she’d never be like them” milo stuttered, not expecting such a question from her family.

“then why does she do it with you? it’s just weird”james questioned. Y/M/N followed up, “it is, only because she’s never been like this with anyone else”

“hmh” milo questioned to himself as her family continued to speak.

“wait how did you and Y/N meet again milo?” Y/D/N quirked an eyebrow to milo as he interrogated his youngest daughter’s new boyfriend.

“uh so she was working at the concessions at one of the disney owned broadway theaters in time square area. she’d complimented my shirt, weird enough, and i- i- uh made a flirty comment. not gonna lie here, it comes naturally with the manheims” milo nervously chuckled as he lifted his hands up in defense. he soon continued his story, “and then she fired back with some witty, sassy comeback, teasing me about my previous sentence. we had a short conversation after that, and that’s when i found out she was an aspiring photographer, and was working there at the theater as a side hustle. she just, i don’t know, felt so easy to talk to. i felt a connection within that first interaction. knew i couldn’t leave that night without leaving my number for her” milo looked down at his hands that lay in his lap, nervously picking at the beds of his thumbs as he waited for Y/N to return.

“hmh, sounds just like my daughter with the witty, sassy comeback. pretty sure she learned it from me. also, where the hell is she?” Y/D/N laughed gently as he sat back in his chair.

“i’ve heard that one for sure. and i’m not sure, it’s definitely been over 5 minutes, which means i’m due to go find her. her wish is my command always. if you’ll excuse me” milo politely commented as he stood up from the chair to go find his girl.

milo began walking from under the large tent to the pavilion just across the way, where the bar was located, but didn’t see Y/N in sight. he then continued to the larger barn looking building, where all the food had been being served on the inside. he continued walking on the outside of the building until he reached the concessions, but still had no sign of her.

worriedly, he pulled out his phone and started typing away a text message to her.

Mi<3: baby, where are you? you’ve been gone for 10 minutes. i can’t find you anywhere, getting a bit worried.

as soon as he sent the message he heard her phone go off from behind the concessions. groaning, as he threw his head back, he unlatched the gate that was meant to keep guests out, he began his walk to behind the concessions. he’d only groaned because he knew he was breaking the rules and he hated doing that. but he’d do absolutely anything for Y/N. milo stopped as soon as he heard a deep male voice.

“glad you got my text Y/N! how’ve you been?” the tall, tan guy asked milo’s girlfriend, as the two hugged. the guy for sure towered over Y/N but definitely not to the extent that milo did. the young guy continued as the two pulled out of the hug, “as soon as charlie texted me telling me he saw you with your family, i knew i had to shoot you a text to meet up here”

milo knew he shouldn’t have been ease dropping, but he just couldn’t help himself. he needed to know what was going on.

“i’ve been great, real great. but you would’ve known that if you hadn’t blocked me on instagram after rejecting me, after i confessed my feelings to you when you’d been leading me on for that past year. but whatever that was over two years ago” Y/N sassily spoke her witty comeback. it took everything in milo to not laugh at her bluntness to what seemed to be an ex lover of hers.

“about that, i’m so sorry. i- i just got so nervous when you said you liked me, that i didn’t know what to do, especially because you were twenty-one and i was nineteen. i thought maybe we could try something again?” Y/N ex lover began to speak what he’d wanted to say.

milo, who’d been standing around the corner, couldn’t take another second of this. he wouldn’t openly admit it, but he was insanely jealous of the whole situation… and maybe slightly pissed. not at Y/N, but at the guy, thinking he could break her heart just a couple years before, and still have the audacity to try and get her back. not on his watch.

and on queue, milo walked straight in to Y/N rescue, wrapping his arm around one of her shoulders and around her chest diagonally from behind. looking down at her, as she looked up to her savior, in more ways than one, smiling widely to him with only love in both of their eyes.

“hey, sorry, i know i wasn’t supposed to walk through that gate baby, but like i was getting worried, same with your family, and heard your soft voice from behind the concessions.

“it’s okay mi, it literally isn’t that big of a deal. robert, the owner wouldn’t really care much anyways” Y/N raised her hand, to gently scratch milo’s scruff covered cheek.

“oh, sorry, names milo. nice to meet you” milo smiled widely to the young man who stood across from him and Y/N, as he put his right hand out to shake the guys.

“xavier, don’t worry about it. so are you like…?” xavier, Y/N ex lover began after he willingly shook milo’s hand.

“milo’s my boyfriend. milo, this is my old coworker, xavier. also, where’s your dad at? i can’t leave here today without seeing him. i adore your dad so much” Y/N chuckled, remembering how his dad had always treated her like family.

“y-yeah, he’d love to see you. he asks about you every now and then. and boyfriend? huh.” xavier shrugged with a frown.

“yeah, i met milo a little over a year ago living in new york city. and i’ll be sure to find your dad before we leave. my parents are probably freaking out right about now since ive been gone so long and now milo has as well. it was good seeing you” Y/N smiled to xavier and sent him a little wave.

“you too. good meeting you milo”

“you too bro” milo smiled weakly as him and Y/N began to walk away, and back through the gate, all the way over to where her family was still playing bingo.

however the rest of the time the two were there, milo became more silent as the clock ticked. still, he held her legs in his lap, rubbing her thigh. for some odd reason he just felt so jealous knowing that her ex fling, really tried to get back with her. he didn’t know why he felt jealous though. really, he had nothing to be jealous about. he knew that. but yet he still couldn’t help the feeling. and it was driving him insane.

“milo” james called his name again as Y/N patted his thigh.

“oh, sorry. what was that?” milo asked as his cheeks began to turn red from embarrassment.

“i asked how you liked today. hopefully we werent too intrusive and annoying” james laughed at his little sisters boyfriend.

“oh, i really enjoyed meeting you all. it’s so nice to finally meet the people who made Y/N who she is and who she’s always talking about. and trust me, none of you were annoying” milo gave a tight lipped smile. somehow when he smiled it always looked upside down. but that was just another thing Y/N loved about her man.

“wait, you talk about us?” will exclaimed from across the table to his big sister.

“uh yeah? is that a shock to you? you have no idea how much i’ve missed you guys. i was going actually insane before i met milo.”

“she was always constantly showing me photos and videos of you all. she won’t admit it but she was homesick” milo smirked, informing Y/N family of how she was feeling.

shoving his broad shoulder, Y/N began to whine at milo, “stop it mi, i’ll never hear the end of this from them. like ever”

milo chuckled, “fine fine, she didn’t miss home at all. lou keeps her busy”

“who is lou?” Y/D/N asked milo in a stern voice with an eyebrow raised.

“oh shit, i mean dang, you never told them about lou?” milo turned to look down at Y/N.

“i guess not?”

“oh my. lou is my dog. Y/N is always babying him and he keeps her occupied when she’s home from work”

“um no, you baby the hell out of that dog” Y/N fired back at her boyfriend.

“i have no idea what you’re talking about” milo shrugged his shoulders, knowing she was right in this conversation.

“uh okay mr. ‘i have to buy him a louis vuitton collar and leash because it matches his name’. and not only that but you tuck him in every night.”

“yeah well you baby him, and you bought a purse he’d fit in for when we go grocery shopping”

“he has a designer collar and leash?” will raised his voice slightly at the shock.

“sounds like you both spoil him. Y/N, milo sounds like your dad with how he treats louie” Y/M/N chuckled as she shoved her husbands shoulder while laughing lightly.

once it was the end of the picnic celebration, Y/N and milo made their way to the tesla rental and buckled up. sitting in silence as milo put in the directions to their fancy hotel, Y/N sat nervously bouncing her leg. she could tell something had been bothering milo, but wasn’t exactly sure as to what it was.

as she continued to bounce her leg and chew on her lip, she felt milo’s gentle touch on her thigh, stopping her from bouncing her leg any further.

“what’s wrong?” milo asked gently, as his thumb rubbed against her leg while his eyes lay on the road.

“just wondering what’s wrong with you” she spoke softly, causing milo to dryly chuckle.

“nothing. i’m fine. just tired, a bit overwhelmed by today” he breathed out. she knew he was lying, though she didn’t want to press him anymore about the topic while he was driving.

as soon as they got back to their hotel, milo laid the rental car keys on the counter of the small kitchen that came with their suite. trudging over to his suitcase to shrug his birkenstocks off, he spoke softly, “i’m going to go shower”

Y/N just sat there on the bed, in deep thought as to what the root of why he was acting weird. moving her hand up to her eye, she wiped a lone tear she hadn’t even realized had fallen from her tear duct.

screw it. she wasn’t gonna just sit out here and wait for him to finish, while she just kept overthinking. hurriedly, she walked into the bathroom quietly, taking off her clothes so she could join him in the shower and force him to tell her what was on his mind. they never fought. she didn’t like this. even if it wasn’t technically fighting.

quietly she walked into the walk-in shower, closing the glass shower door behind her, shocked he didn’t hear her. either that or he was ignoring her, which was her biggest fear.

“mi” Y/N began as she wrapped her arms around his torso from behind continuing again, “what’s wrong? what did i do?”

milo jumped slightly, indicating he hadn’t heard her enter, telling her he’d been in deep thought the whole time he’d been in there. he turned around to look down at her. “you didn’t do anything. i’m just kinda mad? which is so fucking weird for me to say, as i’m a loving guy. i don’t like this feeling”

“mad? what? why? and it’s okay to feel emotions milo, even if it’s a little negative” Y/N cupped his cheek, as his back blocked the water from hitting her.

“because xavier was and still is an ass. to think that he thought he could win you back after breaking your heart not once, but twice, just pisses me off to no extent. i mean honestly, who does he think he is to treat not just any woman, but a woman who is so down to earth, selfless, caring and kind like that? and i may have been a bit jealous” milo let out with slight aggression, not to Y/N, but to the situation he’d watched unfold earlier in the day. he’d of course whispered the last part though, slightly ashamed to the fact he’d let some lousy guy get to him like that. Y/N knew he meant no harm to her with the raise of his voice, which wasn’t too loud thanks to the water of the shower head drowning out part of the volume level he’d been speaking in.

“for starters my love, thank you for your kind words. i’ll be sure to tell your mother you were nice to me” Y/N smiled up at milo, joking to him since his mother was always joking with him to be nice to her, even though he always was. milo responded in a tight lipped smile with a silent chuckle as his hands gripped her waist a little tight, but not enough to make her uncomfortable. she soon continued, “xavier is a dumbass and will always be a dumbass who is very full of himself”

“accurate statement. and i don’t even know the guy. he had such a punchable face Y/N. i dont even know what you saw in him” milo groaned as he threw his head back. Y/N in return just wrapped her arms from around his torso to his neck.

sighing, Y/N looked up nervously to milos brown orbs, “to be honest, i’m not quite sure myself. I really think i just liked the attention and the feeling of being wanted and longed after. It was never something i was, well, am used to”

“well, i hope you know i will always want you. You will always be longed for by me. so please, babe, get used to it” milo chuckled, as he moved a hand to cup her cheek as he looked down into her eyes.

“also, what’s this about jealousy?” she quirked an eyebrow up to milo, and in return throwing his head back groaning.

“you heard that part?”

Y/N nodded her head in return to his question as he groaned once more. “i just really didn’t like another guy hitting on you. especially knowing you two have a past. just makes me mad. i don’t even know why”

“well, lucky you, i don’t want him and never will. you know i once met a guy, who taught me my self worth was much more than i’d even imagined as well as what i deserve in a man? he fixed my broken heart in more ways than one after xavier broke it into millions of pieces. he taught me what it’s like to actually be loved unconditionally. and i wouldn’t trade him for the world. you have absolutely nothing to be jealous of love. if anything, everyone should be jealous of you and how kind hearted and loving you are. i love you and i wouldn’t trade what we have for the world. I am so lucky to have you. i hope you know that. also, remember, it’s okay to feel these emotions babe” Y/N cupped milo’s right cheek as both of them let tears slip from their eyes.

“god, how the fuck did i get so lucky? i love you always” milo sighed as he leaned down to kiss Y/N, as the water ran down the two of their bodies. Nothing in their world mattered in this moment but them.

taglist: @girlkissersco @whoopsyeahokay @libertyinnit @moonyseyelash @bat-h-tic @emsch15 @softpretzel49 @multifanxtvshows @manheimsmuse @keziahcore

#milo manheim x reader #milo manheim x fem!reader #milo manheim one shot #milo manheim fanfiction #milo manheim #milo manheim imagine #milo manheim x Y/N #milo manheim angst #milo manheim fluff #milo manheim x you

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verstappen-cult · 11 months ago

Text

HOW YOU GET THE GIRL | CL16

— 03. THE DRAMA

PREV. PART | NEXT PART — [ SERIES MASTERLIST ]

summary: in which charles has an embarrassing crush on alex's childhood best friend and everyone meddles. content warnings: faceclaim is taylor hill but you can picture her as you’d like! some cursing and a tiny bit of angst because why not. time jump of a month approx.

INSTAGRAM POST

📍 LONDON, ENGLAND — JUN 27, 2023

Liked by alex_albon, landonorris and 897,455 others

yourusername i kinda like it here. ⛳️

view all 7,637 comments

user66 uh excuse me? the second slide???

user67 IS THAT CHARLES ???? user68 I THINK SO

alex_albon i feel betrayed.

yourusername stop being so dramatic

user69 my parents are together i still can’t believe it

user70 oh my god okay it’s happening

user71 everybody stay calm OH MY GOD user72 are they together? user71 girl go on twitter and see

landonorris let’s play and see who’s better

yourusername me ofc

charles_leclerc ❤️

user73 relationship goals

user74 lol we don’t even know if they’re dating user75 they kissed in front of thousand of people AND on live tv what are you talking about

user76 he’s too good for her

user77 who is she anyway. user78 stop being so childish, he’s never gonna date u

user79 who wouldn’t want to date her i mean just look at her

user80 all these people saying charles is too good for her like ??? SHE’S too good for him

user81 she will get bored in a few days mark my words

danielricciardo Ok but who won?

charles_leclerc i won! yourusername charlie don’t lie maxverstappen1 I don’t believe anything he says ever since I won fair and square playing FIFA and he threw the controller at me. landonorris he did that to you too? pierregasly that’s nothing. he threw a padel racket at my head, i still don’t remember anything from that day. charles_leclerc ffs shut up yourusername leave him alone you bullies

user82 i love how all the drivers are calling charles out lol

Y/N’S iMESSAGE

“that’s not how you make pasta!” you’re dying with laughter at seeing charles trying to cook.

“i asked you if i could cook!” charles can’t help but join you in your laughter, leaving the burned pasta aside.

“because you said you knew how to!”

“you better not believe anything i say.” he takes a sip of wine. the one he brought alongside the beautiful flowers that are now adorning your terrace.

“not even when you say how much you like me?” you pout, looking at him beneath your eyelashes.

charles walks the short distance to where you are sitting in the kitchen counter and you happily make room for him between your legs, arms finding your waist in no time.

“you should a hundred percent believe that.”

“mh i don’t know,” you tease, playing with his soft hair. god, you love his hair so much. “i think you should show me.”

“oh i’m definitely going to do that.”

INSTAGRAM POST

Liked by sabrinacarpenter, gigihadid and 566,328 others

yourusername 💐

view all 8,771 comments

user83 that’s one hell of a bouquet

user84 charles knows what he’s doing

gigihadid Can’t wait to see you this weekend!

❤️ by author

user85 i wanna be her so bad :(

user86 If it weren’t for Charles nobody would know who she is. He put her on the map.

user87 this is a grown ass man by the way user 88 i swear to god men are so in love with charles is getting kinda scary

carmenmmundt What a beautiful picture 💛

user89 tired of her comment section being all about charles

user90 fr like they forget she’s her own person user91 I just know she doesn’t like this at all, she’s always speak up about these kind of things user92 if this were to happen the other way around everyone would be insulting her

user93 CHARLES IS WITH HER RN OHMYGOD

user94 what are you taking about user93 LOOK AT CHARLES STORIES HE LITERALLY JUST POSTED THE PICTURES user95 if it wasn’t for the close up of the flowers we wouldn’t even know they’re together user96 he def did it on purpose

user97 the boys, the girls, the gays, they all like Y/N

INSTAGRAM STORIES

landonorris has replied to your story

landonorris: *chandler bing’s voice* can I BE any more obvious? charles_leclerc: just stop watching friends, i beg you

maxverstappen1 has replied to your story

maxverstappen1: Uh, so that’s why you wouldn’t travel with me. Interesting. charles_leclerc: can i use air max for the next race? 🥺

pierregasly has replied to your story

pierregasly: you guys make me sick charles_leclerc: Y/N says to shut up pierregasly: 🤮🤮🤮

yourusername has replied to your story

yourusername: i like this soft launch/hard launch thing charles_leclerc: i bet you like me more yourusername: debatable charles_leclerc: i can make you change your mind 😏

TWITTER — JUN 28, 2023

TWITTER — JUN 30, 2023

TWITTER — JUL 02, 2023

ALEX’S iMESAGGE

TAGLIST (bold means i couldn’t tag you) — @leclerc16s. @willowpains. @berrnuu. @minkyungseokie. @1655clean. @sassyheroneckgiant. @scott-mccall-could-lift-mjolnir. @nessacarty1. @a1leexxa. @storminacloud. @lovstappen. @littlehoneyfreak. @paintedbypoetry. @thatoneembarrasingmoment.

note: hiii besties, take this as an early new years present! this was supposed to be posted after dec 31st but couldn’t leave it in the drafts. there is at least one or two more chapters, so if you still wanna be added to the taglist let me know! <3

#꒰꒰ 📁 ─ verstappen cult files ꒱꒱#f1 x reader #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fluff #f1 imagine #f1 grid x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x you #f1 fanfic #charles leclerc smau #charles leclerc blurb

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urf1lterr · 11 months ago

Text

moonlight | m.yg [1]

next chapter: soon

summary: when it’s finally the week of your big sister's wedding, you’re more than excited for it to be over as responsibilities come flying your way. however, you can’t seem to stop thinking about a particular groomsman with blonde hair.

pairing: groomsman!yoongi x bridesmaid!y/n

genre: wedding!au, strangers to lovers au | awkward, fluff, angst, mature

word count: 7.4k

status: in progress

author’s note: reposting this bc i miss him. i’ve been wanting to do this for sooooo long but never had time- still don’t but oops.

Sleep is what you really needed right now, especially when you already lacked it in your daily life. But no, that wasn’t really an option right now, not when you had to wait for your sister to pick you up from the airport and get dinner afterwards.

Realistically, you could’ve slept on the plane ride here, but you hated the seat you were in. At first, you sat in the aisle seat because it was always the fastest way to exit afterwards, but you had to give that up when a man probably in his late 50s basically ordered you to move to the middle because older people need "more" room.

You weren’t happy, but you weren’t about to argue because of this.

All you wanted to do right now was go to your old bedroom and change into some comfy sweats and an oversized t-shirt before pulling your blankets over your head to sleep in peace. You knew it was not going to happen any time soon, but a girl can wish.

As you finally saw your suitcases at the baggage claim area, you grabbed one, almost falling by how large and heavy it was. You cursed at yourself for overpacking, but you were staying in town for two weeks and could not risk the chance of not having enough clothes. Luckily, your other suitcase was fairly smaller.

Walking to the other side of the terminal, you saw the exit to the pick up area, immediately moving your legs faster because you couldn’t wait to get out of here. There were too many people walking slow, it surprised you how calm you’ve lasted.

Once you reached a bench in front of the area, you noticed that the weather was not that great. It was raining, which you loved- but your sister planned most of her events outside so this is probably going to make her cry for hours.

And you really don't wanna be the shoulder she cries on- she is very dramatic when she sobs.

Pulling out your phone, you noticed you received three texts. One from your sister, mom, and boss.

[mom] 5:57pm: were you able to land safely? don’t look tired and try not to be introverted, namjoon’s mother is joining us for dinner. put on some makeup, love you!

Rolling your eyes, you shook your head. You weren’t surprised in the slightest, you knew how your mother was. She didn’t mean any harm, but she loves to impress others. By looking a bit tidy, she thinks people wouldn’t think lowly of us. However, she fails to understand that we’ve known your future brother-in-law’s family for almost six years now, you don’t believe they will call off the wedding by seeing their future daughter-in-law’s little sister bare faced.

Plus, his mother is the sweetest. If anything, she always told you how much she loved seeing natural faces compared to the overdose of products people nowadays use in which she refers to “tiktok trends.”

[jae] 6:01pm: the office is going to miss you! tell ur sister congrats again, and then do it again for me once she’s actually married lol. don’t you dare ask if there’s work for you to do it in the next two weeks!

Laughing to yourself, you quickly replied with a small “thank you, i will tell her,” along with a “darn, now i cant use work as an excuse to get out of wedding duties. but if there is work needed to be done just text me.”

[violet] 6:13pm: almost there!! look out for a black suv. hope u don’t need to go home, kinda planning to go straight to dinner bc our reservation is at 7 and joonie doesn’t want to be late! he’s scared they’ll judge us, see you soon <3

Of course he would think that, coming from the man who thinks texting and walking is rude- it's debatable!

That’s when you looked at the time, noticing that it was exactly 6:20pm. There was still time to make it by 7, you were sure of it.

As you were about to reply to your mom and sister, you heard the sound of tires screeching with constant honks. You looked up, noticing a very expensive-looking suv pulled near the curb, still beeping.

Was this your sister? I mean, it was black like she stated it would be.

Your question was finally answered when you noticed the passenger window being rolled down, revealing two young looking men with bright smiles eagerly waving, the driver still beeping with his other hand causing many people around to glare as they walked by.

You noticed the man with very shaggy hair, wearing what seems to be a white t-shirt, black slacks, and sneakers as he opened the door. “What’s up, y/n,” he smiled, making his way towards you.

“Taehyung? What are you doing here? I thought Violet was going to pick me up- is she in the backseat?” You questioned as he automatically went to grab your bags. “And what is this moron doing here? I thought he got his license taken away last month?”

Looking back to the SUV, you saw your cousin in the driver’s seat with what seems to be him fighting off a man with a bright yellow and green vest knocking violently on his window side.

“You cannot park here, you’re holding up traffic!” the man yelled, causing your cousin to roll his eyes before rolling down the window maybe two inches before yelling back.

“You’re the one holding up traffic standing in the middle of the road!”

“Don’t make me call security! Park in the parking lot!” The man dragged on, hitting the side of the car repeatedly and motioning his arms to drive away at the same time.

"Aren't you security?!" Your cousin honked before glaring at the man. “And you scratch my car, you pay for it!”

You stopped watching their little altercation as Taehyung began rolling your suitcases towards the trunk of the car, making you follow along. “She wasn’t able to come, apparently she had to go pick up some materials she ordered for the centerpieces,” he stated, setting the bags inside before closing the trunk. “And I am not sure why he is driving, I think everybody forgot he shouldn’t be and I am too lazy to do it, I was not able to take my nap today because Namjoon made me paint the photo booth all morning- it was exhausting.”

Opening the passenger door for you, you quickly jumped in as he shut it before jumping into the seat behind you. Turning to your left, you could still see your cousin arguing with the man before Taehyung told him to drive already.

“No! I hope you have a shitty day, you asshole!” Your cousin screamed before speeding away down the street. After literally two seconds, he looked your way while smiling brightly. “I missed you!”

Giving him a dirty glance, you slap his arm. “Ow! What was that for?” He whined, rubbing his arm with his free hand.

“Jungkook, why the fuck are you driving?” you declared. “You’re not allowed”

“Says who,” he rolled his eyes.

“The state,” Taehyung says from the backseat.

Jungkook scoffs, shaking his head. “They can’t do anything, I pay my taxes.”

Groaning, you rub your forehead. “This has nothing to do with your taxes, you imbecile.”

He gives you a confused look for a quick moment before moving his eyes back on the road again. “You don’t need to use big words to attack me, y/n. This isn’t law school.”

You heard Taehyung sighing at how annoying his friend was being. To clear things up, Taehyung was actually a close friend of your side of the family through Jungkook, the two of them being inseparable since kindergarten.

You just so happened to know him well since he always followed Jungkook everywhere he went, same vice versa, as you saw your cousin basically everyday due to only being one year apart and both your mom’s being sisters. But with Taehyung, you happened to be the same age, same with their other friend in their trilogy, Jimin. In which you were surprised he wasn’t here because Jimin loved going to dinner with them.

“Why are you driving?”

“I got my license back,” he smiled, nodding heavily when he saw the questionable facial expression you were making. “I swear! I went to the DMV and everything. I got it back after paying like $3,000.”

Choking on your saliva after hearing how much he had to pay, you gasped, “Why so much? What exactly did you do?!”

Jungkook awkwardly moved both his hands on the steering wheel, obviously not wanting to answer your question as you heard his friend chuckling in the backseat. “Yeah, tell her Jungkook, what did you do?”

Throwing a small box of tissues he had left near the middle cup holder to Taehyung, Jungkook began his excuse. “I’m not really sure, apparently it’s illegal to drive through rain puddles,” he shrugged.

You shifted your head a bit, “that’s not illegal.”

“It is when you purposely speed through them to get people wet,” Taehyung giggled as Jungkook groaned in annoyance.

“Dude! You weren’t supposed to tell her that part!” Jungkook whined.

“That is so rude,” you pinched his arm as he tried moving away from you, knowing your first reaction to things were mostly violence. “How would you like it if someone did that to you?”

“I actually wouldn’t mind it,” he stated. “Saves me money from going to a waterpark.”

Sometimes, you wondered what goes on in that big head of your cousin. Not much common sense, that’s for sure.

“Anywho,” you spoke up, trying to change the dumb conversation you just had. “What’s the plan for tonight? I heard something about a dinner, but other than that I have idea what’s going on. No one told me anything.”

Jungkook shrugged, glancing at you a few times as he answered your question. “I know we have dinner with some of Namjoon’s friends, his mom, your parents, and then you sister’s friends. But afterwards, no clue.”

“Why are you and Taehyung going then?”

He scoffed, looking offended. “I’ll have you know, we are very much indeed Namjoon’s friends,” he proudly said before giving in once he saw how that did nothing. Maybe acquaintances but definitely not friends. “All the groomsmen were invited.”

Ah yes, you almost forgot Jungkook, Taehyung, and Jimin were appointed groomsmen which was a big shock considering they were not close to Namjoon like that.

But to be completely honest, your sister did have six bridesmaids while Namjoon only had three real groomsmen he wanted. So, she was able to convince Namjoon to allow the other three to take apart on their special day because they were basically like family.

And because he had no one else to call.

Although, it didn’t take much convincing, Namjoon did love the guys and they all bonded really well whenever they did interact.

“So, Jimin’s going?”

“He should be,” you heard Taehyung answer. “He couldn’t come with us to pick you up because he had to drop his little brother off at baseball practice- but I think their mom is going to pick him up once he’s done.”

You nodded, understanding the situation. To be honest, you were happy the three of them were going. It’s not like you wouldn’t know anyone tonight, maybe only a couple people, but the rest of your family never knew how to make you feel comfortable the same way the boys did.

Maybe its because you basically grew up with them and how you were all close in age, but you felt more open and less forced to act a certain way when they were by your side.

Throughout the car ride, you had to constantly bicker with Jungkook about slowing down and to avoid potholes as it kept getting in the way of you applying concealer and powder from your seat. You especially yelled when he almost made you smash your mascara wand in your eye, causing Taehyung to hide his laughter as he scrolled through twitter.

Finally, after small loads of traffic and listening to Jungkook’s ‘go crazy, go stupid’ playlist in which consisted of old Taylor Swift and Hannah Montana songs, you made it to the restaurant. The problem was, the rain was hectic. You’re surprised Jungkook didn’t crash into a pole trying to see through his windshield wipers.

Once you parked, Jungkook sheepishly smiled. “Okay so we have a small problem- nothing serious,” he stated as you gave him a look for him to continue. “We don’t have an umbrella.”

“What-” you and Taehyung said at the same time. “I can’t show up in there all wet, it’s pouring outside!”

“-and I can’t risk getting my shirt wet, I didn’t bring a sweatshirt and I am wearing a white top- my chest will be see through if it gets wet!” Taehyung cried out. “I don’t want people violating me.”

“Calm down, drama queens,” Your cousin rolled his eyes. “Y/n, cover your face with your arms to protect your makeup- that’s the only thing you should save. Taehyung, wrap your arms over your chest, don’t you dare lift them until we are sheltered. We got this guys!”

You scoffed as he cheered you both on. At least you all will be drenched together, you thought.

Getting ready to jump out of the car, you looked down at your outfit. You were wearing an oversized dark brown crewneck sweater, black thick leggings, and your white platform sneakers. At least you were kind of warm and didn’t have much to damage from the rain.

Looking back at how far the restaurant was from your parking spot, you three basically had to run the side of the building to get to the front. It wouldn’t have been a problem if it was regularly raining- but as it was lashing down with some now background sounds of thunder and lightening, you knew this was going to be a bad idea.

Jungkook gave you two a confident nod before aiming towards his door as Taehyung and you gave each other a worried look, eventually doing the same. “On the count of 3!” Jungkook yelled from his side.

Once we were all ready, hands on the door handle, you heard Taehyung start, “1-”

“-3!” Jungkook screamed and ran out the door, hearing the door lock as he ran his distance.

Taehyung and you looked at each other in shock before chasing after him. As you took more and more steps, you could tell that this rainstorm was probably one of the worst you have ever encountered.

But to be fair, you should have checked the forecast and remembered to bring your own umbrella.

After what seemed like minutes, the three of you finally made it to the front of the building in which you were blessed with a roof for your protection. At this moment, you have never been happier.

Moving your eyes to the two boys standing near you, you noticed how even though Tae’s hair was swamped, he managed to barely get his chest wet. Jungkook’s hair began curling up on the sides, but only that and his shoulders were fairly drenched.

You tried straightening out your sweater while looking up at Taehyung. “Do I look alright?”

“Yeah, you totally don’t look like you just ran through the rain.” he nodded, even though you could feel your hair soaked.

“Your makeup still looks intact,” Jungkook added, “but your hair- eh.”

You glared at him as he lifted his hands up in defense. He shouldn’t be talking, his hair was soaked too.

Trying to make yourselves look presentable, you didn’t notice someone rushing near you three, only when you felt a pair of arms wrapping behind you, causing you to squeal.

Moving your head to see the owner of the arms, you immediately hugged them back. “Jimin!”

“Y/n!” he giggled, but suddenly pulled away. “Ew, you’re drenched.” Nodding towards Jungkook, he quickly understood what happened. “Why didn’t you just tell me you guys were here? Jungkook, I texted you that I had an umbrella if you needed one.”

Taehyung and you turned to glare at Jungkook as he turned red and stammered, "I’m sorry, I-I didn’t see the message!”

"Hold on, man. Didn't you just dropped off your brother? It's pouring," Taehyung.

Jimin shrugged, "Do you think the MLB teams stop their games over some rain."

"In some cases, yes."

“Y/n! You’re here!” you heard that familiar voice squeal behind you, followed by a pair of arms once again hugging you. “I would totally not touch you, but I haven’t seen you in three months!”

Smiling, you held your annoying sister until you heard a cough. You let go to see your parents standing near her, your mom pushing her to the side, making your sister almost fall to the ground, before wrapping her arms around you. “Y/n! How was your flight? You never replied to my text, young lady,” she crossed her arms. Oh, how you love when your mother’s mood changes constantly.

She suddenly touched your face lightly, “Your face looks lovely! You’re hair though- uh its alright! The rain is our excuse!” she beamed.

Same old mother, but at least you knew she did not want you to take things seriously.

You felt your dad lightly wrap an arm around you, giving you a short greeting, probably not wanting to hold up our reservation as well but not because he didn’t want to be rude, he wanted to eat already.

Noticing no one else was outside, you sister began speaking. “Namjoon, his friends, and mom are inside sitting at the table already. I told them not to wait up on us so we don’t cause much of a disturbance inside.”

Nodding, she then began guiding everyone inside with your parents following directly behind her while Jimin, Tae, and Jungkook walked right along with you. It was a short walk inside, but you noticed that the table must have been all the way in the back, maybe in another room by how far in you all were going.

Being right, you could see that they reserved a private room which was extremely crazy- this must’ve been so expensive for a casual dinner!

The first person you noticed was your future brother-in-law sitting at the middle of the wide circular table, a seat empty right beside him for your sister you assumed. You identified his mother pretty clearly as she sat on the other side of him.

Your parents quickly sat on the seats right next to where your sister just sat. You moved your eyes to see most of the bridesmaids, who you knew for the longest as they all either went to school or worked with her, sitting right near you parents and across from them.

There was only one seat next to the last bridesmaid that was opened, so you assumed it was for you as it was across from your sister’s seat. Looking at the boys, you frowned, realizing you would be separated as they only had empty seats on the other side of the table where Namjoon’s mom sat. At least you could look at them from across the table.

Jimin fake pouted before they all walked to the available seats. You finally noticed the three other boys sitting beside them, only recognizing one of them, Hoseok. You were happy to be seated right next to him as you two have met many times in the past, but you couldn’t help but wonder who the other two were and why you weren’t introduced to them earlier.

Hoseok was actually a close friend of both Namjoon and your sister, in fact, he was the one who introduced them many years ago. He was probably one of the few close male friends your sister even had who she trusted with all her heart who didn’t want to sleep with her.

You also befriended him as he was the only one who wouldn’t complain but encouraged you to hang out with them during their high school days when your sister pulled the ‘hormonal teenager who hates everybody’ phase.

“Nice to see you, y/n. Thanks for coming, I know you must be exhausted from your flight, but it means a lot that you were able to make it,” Namjoon kindly greeted you, in which you smiled in return.

“It’s okay,” you shyly reply, feeling your nerves kick in because you suck at public speaking, even when it’s with people you’ve already met.

“Now she’s shy,” you heard your cousin stifle in a low laugh before Jimin kicked his leg, in which he groaned in pain, trying not to make any noise as he clutched his knee.

As you gave Jungkook a dirty look, you began turning, quickly taking a look at the guests you didn’t know. One seemed to look slightly tall, or you assumed he was by how long his torso was. He was very good looking, just not your type.

But the other one was already looking at you, his eyes quickly moving away when he realized he was caught, not seeming to care though. He had very beautiful eyes and bright blonde hair, but he looked very intimidating with his blank- almost cold expression.

“You look dashing, y/n!” You heard Namjoon’s mom exclaim, making you turn extremely red. God, you hated when people gave you compliments, especially when others were around. You did not like the attention it brought.

“Thank you” you looked down, trying your best to make your face cool down. You wish you were in the rain right now.

“I take full responsibility for her hair not looking the best,” Jungkook spoke up, making you immediately cover your face with your hands, praying he stop talking. “I forgot the umbrella.”

You heard him groan again, maybe from one of the boys kicking him for his irrelevant comments.

“I know the struggle,” You heard one of the unknown guests Namjoon had, the one who looked tall, begin. “I tripped while trying to walk in and landed on a puddle.” This caused you to giggle, happy that he was willing to embarrass himself to deflect the attention off you. “But it’s alright, luckily I had extra pants in my car.”

“Now that you mentioned that uh- fascinating information,” Namjoon awkwardly started. “Y/n, I realized you never met my other groomsmen-”

“Groomsmen? How dare you” You heard the same friend fake gasp, causing Hoseok to groan right beside you. “I am the one and only best man”

“So, that’s Jin,” Hoseok finally spoke up, rolling his eyes at his friend who you realized probably loved the attention more than you actually knew.

“Oh, hi” you shyly waved as he gave you a cheesy smile.

“Sorry about him, he’s a little over the top,” Namjoon sweetly mentioned to you, causing Jin to scoff. “-but in a good way!”

Just by observing their attitude towards each other, you can tell Jin was the friend who made Namjoon be more confident and open-minded enough to try new things. He seemed like the hype man of the group.

“And that’s Yoongi,” Hoseok added, pointing to the man on the left of him, the one who looked like he did not want to talk to anybody. You began to realize this Yoongi guy was more reserved than the rest, giving you a small nod as you awkwardly looked away.

“Sorry about him, he seems quiet- but he does talk! Quite a lot actually,” Jin added, causing Yoongi to nudge him.

“Same with this one,” Violet giggled, looking your way causing you to glare at her. Way to put the spotlight on you.

Luckily for you, your mother just knew so many topics to talk about that she carried a conversation fairly quickly right after your sister’s comment.

You would have listened to it all the way, but to be honest, you were mentally exhausted. Work had you up till 10pm last night and with it being such a jammed pack month already, you completely forgot to pack until this morning. Having to check in two bags, you had to arrive at the airport three hours early to make it in time to depart from all the long lines.

You don’t think anyone beside your dad and Namjoon’s mom were listening to your mom because as you looked around the table, you realized people were either making faces at their friends or just looking anywhere else but the speaker.

That’s when you noticed Taehyung making a silly face your way, causing you to smile at him. But when you did so, you saw from the corner of your eye the restrained individual placing his eyes on you that didn’t leave until he was about to be caught again.

Yeah, you wished this dinner would be over soon.

"That was probably one of the best steaks I have ever digested," Namjoon smiled while wiping his mouth with a napkin.

"Did he just say 'digested'?" you heard one of your sister's friend, Mina you believe, whisper to her other friend, Hani, who just shrugged.

After about an hour of awkward conversations that consisted of when Violet and Namjoon would be making babies and who would take custody if they both randomly die, dinner was finally over.

To be honest, you were glad that you were mostly not chosen to speak. That was until your mother thought it would be a brilliant idea to bring up your personality compared to your sisters, in which she made sure to mention the one time in 4th grade when you threw a tantrum and bursted into tears because you didn't want her to leave you alone on the first day of school.

Violet made sure to clarify how immature you were as a fourth grader, in which you thought if it would really be bad punching her in the face right then and there. You were sure makeup could cover the bruises.

"I should probably get going, I think your father is getting off soon from work," you heard Namjoon's mom say, slowly standing up before giving her son a warm hug.

Following the signs, everyone began standing up, getting ready to say their goodbyes. That was until your sister suddenly spoke up, becoming an announcer.

"Wait I forgot to mention, tomorrow is day 1 out of 7!" she cheered as her fiancee placed an arm on her lower back. "Don't forget to bring your shoes!"

"What's tomorrow?" You thought, but apparently out loud as everyone glanced your way, causing you to look back at Violet.

"You don't know?!" she gasped, looking back towards your mom. "Did you not tell her?" Watching as your mother softly gave her a small smile, your sister's eyes made their way back to you in disbelief. "It's our first dance rehearsal."

"Dance rehearsal?" You squinted your eyes, not believing how in the world she planned to make people learn a dance in under a week. "You do understand your wedding is in 6 days right after tomorrow, right?"

"We couldn't plan practices earlier because you and Jin don't live near here and we didn't want you both going out of your way to get here for it," Namjoon commented. "That would've been too expensive."

Realization hit you, you have to dance...in front of people.

Looking up, you tried showing a relaxed expression, but you're sure you only pulled out an uncomfortable one at the thought of having to publicly dance when you are in fact the worse dancer ever.

Truth be told, you wish you can easily agree and go with the flow, but knowing yourself the best you know you cannot pull this off. There is a reason why you dropped dance class in high school and it was because you kept making your partner's toes bleed from stepping on them so much.

But before you could speak up, or as if you were going to, your sister beat you to it. "You're doing it, no exceptions," she pointed a finger at you.

"You can be my partner!" Jimin exclaimed, wrapping an arm over your shoulder, trying to cheer you up. "I'm a great dancer."

"I beg to differ," Taehyung crossed his arms. "Have you seen these hips? Been shaking them since I was eight years-old."

"Just Dance doesn't count," Jimin hissed, making Tae scoff.

"It does when you're undefeated!"

Before the two of them could continue their bickering, your sister intervened. "None of you are dancing with her, I've already assigned partners," and right when they were going to ask who she added, "and you're not finding out until tomorrow. I don't want you trying to ask us to privately change your partners tonight so deal with it."

That definitely made them shut up before she carried on saying farewell to everybody.

You being you, you stood there stiff as everyone hugged each other. Never knowing how to really say 'bye', you often just waved. It was your thing.

You felt large arms wrap around you, causing you to gasp for air from the tight hold. "It was so nice meeting you, y/n!" You heard Jin burst out before pulling away. "Hoping we end up as partners, you seem so chill."

Certain that that was not going to happen, you sheepishly nodded. Not that you did not want him as a partner, to be fair, you probably would have chosen him as one of your top choices if it were up to you only because he seemed friendly and welcoming.

However, he was the best man.

Everybody knows the best man always gets paired with the maid of the honor, in which you believe was Naile.

Once he moved passed you to say his goodbyes with your parents, you noticed Yoongi finishing his farewells with Namjoon's mom before turning in your direction.

Shifting your eyes somewhere else in the room, you felt a weird feeling in your stomach.

For some reason, interacting with someone else who is also quiet but now intimidating made you extra nervous, fearful they might randomly lash out on you.

Just before Yoongi could at least give you a small nod, like he had done earlier, Namjoon announced that we should all be on our ways as the restaurant probably wanted us gone by now.

Running up to Jimin, you followed your friends and cousin out the door. Not noticing the pair of eyes following your every move up until you were out of sight.

Finally, now you can go home and sleep.

Waking up this morning was hard for you, especially when you knew how stressful it was going to be.

Maybe it was because you knew what was to come but didn't at the same time. It was safe to say you were panicking the whole drive to the small park your sister booked for the morning.

However, your sister was nothing close to nervous, in fact, she was beaming in joy throughout the car ride, constantly telling you she was excited to be a day closer to her wedding.

"Don't freak out too much about practice, okay?" Violet began as she parked the car. "None of them have experience dancing, except Hobi and maybe like Jimin and whatever Tae thinks is dancing, but other than that we all suck."

"Thanks for the pep talk, I feel so much better," you sarcastically declare before opening the door and getting out.

"I'm serious! I know you well enough to see how anxious you are about this," she argued. "But I made sure to pick an easy dance we all can learn within a few days"

You only sighed. There was nothing you could really do at this point so there was not much convincing she was doing to make you feel better. Plus, it's her day. You kind of have to do whatever she wants whether you like it or not.

Following her to a medium-sized building, you noticed how nice this park really was. There was a huge duck pond on one side with a beautiful garden all around.

Where does she find these places?

As you two opened the doors, she led you down a hallway until you were walking into a pretty large banquet room. You saw mostly everyone was here, besides Jin and Namjoon, but other than that everyone was here.

"Where's my man?" Your sister questioned, setting her bag on one of the side tables as you closely followed behind her.

"Trying to figure out where he put his dancing shoes," Hoseok stated, lying back on the chair he was sitting in. "Hi, y/n."

You softly waved, seeing that Taehyung and Yoongi were sitting right next to him. Tae was too busy playing some game on his phone to notice your presence as Yoongi just gave you a brief glimpse before going on his phone as well.

"What took you forever to get here?" Jungkook asked, pulling up a seat right next to you on one of the empty tables you sat in. You felt Jimin sit next to him, waiting for your answer.

"Violet couldn't leave the house without shaving her face," you whispered, hoping she didn't hear that or else she would come up with something 10x worse to joke about you.

"I did notice something was different about her," Jimin joked, making you all laugh.

After talking for some time as your sister kept trying to call her fiancee, you heard the slam of a door with the sounds of footsteps nearing.

It appeared that Namjoon probably found his shoes with the help of Jin as they both ran in together, breathing a little heavy as your sister put her hand on her hip.

"Ready," he smiled, trying not to provoke your sister anymore.

Knowing your sister, she was probably going to hire some dance teacher to teach you guys proper techniques. What you did not know was that this instructor was going to make you freestyle your own ending steps with your partners.

Or at least that's what the instructor mentioned after they showed up fifteen minutes late due to "traffic."

But now that they have said it, no one knew who their partners were.

"Time for the moment everyone's been waiting for," your sister stomped her feet and motioned everyone to come near her. Once we did so, she asked, "who wants to know first?"

Jungkook raised his hand quickly. "Me!"

"I think we should make this a little fun," Violet smirked. "Let's write the pair's names on paper, randomly mix them in a bowl and then draw."

Namjoon nodded, not really caring too much about how this was going to be done. He just wanted to begin lessons, already knowing that he wasn't quite the best when it came to body movements only for the world to see.

You were despising every second of this. As the clock kept on ticking, you kept thinking about who your partner would be.

It's not like anyone here was truly horrible- or so you thought.

Plus, you had a high chance of getting the three boys you loved to death. However, your sister did say Jimin and Taehyung were out of the picture, so your only hope was your cousin.

But in your opinion, you weren't familiar with Namjoon's friends. Jin seemed like a sweetheart, but maybe the close proximity of dancing with someone who was practically a stranger was getting in your head.

The main person you were worried about was Yoongi.

It's not like you completely disliked him, you never dislike anyone unless you had a reason to. It was that you didn't know him.

You didn't know Jin either, but the difference was Jin made an effort to communicate to others. Yoongi just sits there with a blank expression, making you question if he is judging or ignoring you.

It's quite intimidating, really.

And with you being extremely quiet too, well... two quiet people don't really work well- or in a situation where both have to actively dance.

"Jimin and Leia!" you heard Namjoon announce.

Damn.

"Sorry, y/n," Jimin mouthed, making you swat your hand in reassurance that you were fine. I guess he's known you for so long to understand how frightening this was for you.

But you're a big girl, you'll get through this.

"Taehyung and Yuna!" Your sister roared.

Okay, maybe not.

Finally, after Hoseok and Jin were called, your nerves were getting to you. Now was not the time to overthink, whatever happens- happens.

Jungkook wasn't making this easier as he kept waving his arms around, mouthing the words "we're definitely partners." And for a split second, you began to believe him.

Well, that was until-

"Y/n and Yoongi," Namjoon called out, making your face fall. Violet began clapping her hands while her fiancee proudly smiled.

Feeling your face turn red, you continue staring at Namjoon as he slowly tilted his head to the side for you to go to your new partner, in which you responded with continuing on your stare.

It felt like hours before you felt someone's presence beside you, causing Namjoon to fix his attention back to announcing who's Jungkook's partner was going to be.

Moving your head slightly to the right, you could make out the bright blonde hair immediately. Yoongi was sitting next to you, oh my-

"I guess we're uh- partners?" he lightly squinted his eyes before looking directly at your own.

You felt weak at the knees by this eye contact, how are you going to make it through the week?

"R-right," you began, mentally screaming at yourself for stuttering "I mean right! Yeah, how uhm..cool?"

"Not really," he sighed, making your eyes widen. Was he really not that happy by this decision? "I don't dance much"

Relief hit you by his answer, okay maybe he doesn't hate you. "Don't worry, I'm on the same boat."

"Namjoon knows I don't do any of this," Yoongi cringed to himself. Does he mean dancing? "I'm sure your sister knows you aren't great either, they should have just partnered us up with someone who wasn't going to make us look humiliating."

Ouch, that stung.

You shut your mouth, not sure what to reply. You understood his point, but at the same time you didn't. It was beginning to become clear now that maybe he wasn't happy with this setup.

"Are we ready to begin?" you heard the instructor exclaim, causing you to look past Yoongi in which you were grateful this small conversation would have to be cut. "Please come forward and spread out, only your partners should be near you!"

Rubbing your fingers, you slowly followed after Yoongi who took the lead towards the middle of the spaced out "dance floor," or the only area in this room that did not have folding tables. The two of you ended up on the side while the others placed themselves throughout the middle and front of the teacher.

After listening to him ramble on about the needed chemistry between partners and showing how our hands must be placed on his practice dummy, who was Namjoon- which Violet did not like, it was time for everyone else to follow.

"Remember, the men are the leads! Take your lady's hand with your left and place your right on her hip! I want to feel the sexual tension from here!"

"Or a comfortable tension," Namjoon interfered.

Looking up at Yoongi, you saw him dully take his left hand out to grab your right one. By his lack of emotion, it triggered you to malfunction and embarrass the hell out of yourself.

He could feel how stiff your body was once he grabbed your hand, beginning to place his right hand behind on your mid back.

"Closer!" the instructor popped out of nowhere, causing you to flinch and almost trip over Yoongi's shoes. Yes, you just stepped on his shoes- he probably hates you now. "Hand on hip! You'll get the rhythm faster."

"No thanks, I'd rather not," Yoongi plainly stated, but was pushed inches away from your face when the instructor pushed you both forward.

You tried your best to look anywhere then at him, but it was incredibly hard. You did catch him throwing out a few glances a few times, but he would always divert his attention somewhere else when he noticed how uncomfortable you reacted to it.

"Do y-you think we should do what they are doing?" You asked, referring to steps that were just given to follow. Everybody else were figuring out the new footwork, but your partner just stood there as if he wanted to die already.

He simply just ignored you, only looking at what Jungkook and his partner were doing. In which, your cousin was swinging the poor girl around while she tried to slow him down in fear.

God, you wish this was over already.

"So...how did you like it?!" Violet questioned, sitting down on the bed in your old bedroom while you hid under the blankets. "It was fun, huh?"

"You call that fun?" You groaned, sitting up. "I want a new partner."

"What? No way! Yoongi will be hurt you wanted to switch."

"How if he was the one who questioned why we weren't switched in the first place?"

Violet gasped, "He said that?"

Nodding, you wiped some hair away from your face. "He also refused to put his hand on my hip. Is my body too gross for him or what?"

It did hurt your feelings he wouldn't listen to the basic suggestions, but if he didn't want to then there was nothing you could do.

"Maybe it was a respect thing- like to make sure he wasn't crossing any boundaries?"

Thinking about it for a second, she could be right.

"We just don't mix well, he would just ignore me any time I asked questions or spoke up," You sighed. "Please change my partner-"

"-I can't, we already began rehearsals," She cut you off.

"But we only learned basic steps! I can dance with a whole other human being and get it down with them! Please, please-"

"-no-"

"I can tell he despises every minute of this," You whine. "He's not into it and I'm just holding him back! You already know how scary this is to throw myself out there for this dance, at least let me be with someone who seems comfortable with me. It'll make me less anxious."

Your sister gave you a look, taking her time to think hard about this. She wanted you to feel fully comfortable, but it would be so unfair to switch partners the next day after announcing them.

"You know I want you to feel at your best, but the decision has been made and I-"

"If you let me switch I'll clean your room for a year," You rambled.

She rolled her eyes, "nice try, you don't even live nearby!"

"I'll send you money to buy your favorite meals twice a month!"

Violet gave you a stern look. "Y/n, no means no. I-"

"I'll say a speech at your wedding!"

That made her shut up.

This shocked you too because you avoided this topic from the start when she told you she was engaged. You hated talking, better yet- talking in front of people? No way, impossible to do!

"You would never, you can't even order your food without stuttering."

She didn't have to come at you like that..

"I promise!" you begged, jumping in front of her as she rolled her eyes.

Hearing her sigh, you felt weight being lifted off your shoulder. "Fine! You can have Hoseok, he's a quick learner anyway."

Almost making your sister fall off the bed as you tackled her in a hug, you cheered. "Thank you! Thank you! Tha-"

"Shut up already," she scrunched her face, pushing you off harshly. "I'm only doing this because you seem to feel really uncomfortable being near him and my sister instincts are going off."

You nodded quickly, trying to be on your best behavior so she doesn't change her mind.

"It kind of sucks though," she shrugged. "Namjoon and I thought you would be the perfect fit, you two are so alike"

"Being antisocial doesn't automatically mean we'll hit it off."

"Sorry, wouldn't know what that's like," she smiled and stood up from your bed. "I'm gonna go check on mom and the centerpieces, you should text Hobi a heads up for this week."

Once she left the room, you pulled out your phone to text him. You hope you weren't being a total bitch for doing this, but you doubt Yoongi would get offended.

He was the one who suggested it.

#min yoongi #min yoongi x reader #yoongi x reader #yoongi imagine #bts imagine #yoongi fanfic #yoongi smut #suga #suga imagine #strangers to lovers #bts x reader #bts suga #bts yoongi #agust d #bts fanfic #bts

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louloulemons-posts · 1 year ago

Text

Missing You

Eddie Munson X Fem!Reader

Summary : Eddie misses his favourite girl.

Word count : 0.7k

Warnings : Toothrotting fluff, Eddie being clingy, pet names, minor mention of sex, minor angst if you squint, a kiss, reader calls Eddie Edward lmao, fluff fluff fluff.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

“See you later Wayne,” Eddie shouted out to his uncle as he headed off to his night shift. He heard the older man speaking to his favourite girl as he went.

“Hey Wayne,” said her sweet voice.

“Hiya Sweetheart, you have a good night okay.”

“You too, don’t work too hard.” Wayne’s soft laugh echoed through lightly and he heard the front door shut again.

Sliding her shoes off and putting her bag down on the couch, she called out for her boy, “Eddie.”

“In here baby.” Soon enough his bedroom door was pushed open and there stood his love.

“Hey pretty girl,” he smiled softly, she was slightly disheveled, hairs sticking out wildly, but still so beautiful. “Whatcha working on?” she motioned to the guitar on his lap. “Just trying to figure out this piece, but it doesn’t matter, come to me.”

He placed the red guitar on the bed next to him, and held out his hands to her. Walking into his space he rested his head on her stomach, wrapping his arms around.

“How was work?” he mumbled.

“Same old, Saturday shift so busy,” she smiled, running her hands through his curls. “Missed you,” he spoke gently.

“You okay?”

“Can’t I miss you?”

“No you can, just wondering. Let me get changed and we can cuddle okay?”

He whined as she pulled herself from his hold. “The sooner I get changed the sooner you can have me back,” instantly he let her go, so fast that she stumbled slightly. “Jesus babe,” she laughed.

Taking her clothes out of her designated draw, Y/N spoke, “What do you want to do tonight? Steve and Robs are heading to the movies after work, we could join them?”

“I thought we could stay here, hang out.”

Popping her head through the shirt she cocked her brow, “Okay what’s up with you?”

“Nothing!”

“Edward,” she sighed, walking back over to him, now in sweats and an old tee, “baby what’s up?”

Taking his face in her hand she met his beautiful chocolate eyes, like a baby cow she’d tease. “I just miss you.”

“Eddie I’m right here. We see each other nearly every day. At school, we hang after school, I come here.”

“But it’s never just us anymore! It’s us and other people : Dustin, Gareth, Robin, Wayne, god damn babe, even Steve Harrington,” he exclaimed, flailing his hands dramatically.

“Are you trying to tell me you’re horny?” and asked, softly rubbing her thumbs on his cheeks, “Babe we can fix that.”

“No! It’s not that, I mean I love doing that, but I just want you .. just us, to spend time together. I miss you,” he closed his eyes, embarrassed by the outburst.

Gently she sat down on his lap, legs wrapping round his waist, pulling his head to rest in her neck. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“What? Eddie no! You have nothing to be sorry for. I can’t think of anything I’d rather do than lay in bed and cuddle with you.”

“Really?” he asked, coming out of her neck to look at her face. Nodding, smiling slightly, “Really, I love spending time with you Eds, you’re my favourite person. Honestly I’ve been missing you too.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I feel like with work, and school and friends. We’ve been seeing each other but we’re not really SEEING each other, you know?” she explained.

“Exactly! I just miss us.”

“Hey, you listen to me Edward Munson, we are still us, we just need to be us in private rather than with other people. I have an idea,” she said, as he gently played with the hem of her shirt. “Hm?”

“I’m gonna go call Robs, get her to cover for me, then I’m gonna call my mom and tell her I’m with Robin.”

“Why would you do that?” he asked as she stood up from his lap. “Because we are having a sleepover, and tomorrow we’re gonna hang out all day, and you’ll be so sick of me!” she grinned, kissing his cheek.

Turning around to run to the phone, she was pulled back by Eddie who stood up. Taking her face in his hands he kissed her softly, “I love you so much my sweet girl.”

“I love you Eddie Munson. Now put your guitar away, I’m you to be ready for cuddles when I’m back.”

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Thank you so much for reading, feel free to leave any requests 🤍

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gisele0127 · 1 year ago

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Being Kunigami’s girlfriend after the wildcard :(

Warnings: Spoilers!, angst to fluff, grammar mistakes, not proof read, kind of rushed.

2 posts in one day😉☺️

You miss your boy. You miss how rensuke would look at you. You miss all the nicknames he’d call you. You miss how affectionate he used to be. You miss all the the dates he would take you on. You just miss your old boy.

Rensuke misses you too. He hates himself for what he has become. He’s afraid.

Rensuke has gotten buffer, his hair longer and messier. But most importantly his face. He looks so sad, so defeated. His eyes starting to have bags his whole demeanor has changed.

Rensuke remembers when he lost and got kicked out of blue lock. He hates himself. He hates how he let you down, how he let his sisters down, and how he let himself down. He doesn’t know how to face you when he goes back home. He knows you’ll be sad, he knows that he will cry in your arms when he finally sees you. But then the wild card happened. He thought he didn’t have to face you just yet. Maybe he can redeem himself one last time.

You don’t know what happened exactly during the wildcard. But when blue lock got their 2 weeks off so did Rensuke. You didn’t even know he was back until his little sister texted you. “Hey y/n, can you come over please Rensuke is acting super weird” your heart dropped. Why didn’t he text you the second he got out? You got so anxious thinking about it, you were nervous the whole walk to his house. You knocked on the door and Mrs. Kunigami opened it. “Oh y/n I missed you so much. Ren has been acting super weird and looks so…different. Do you know what’s going on?” Your heart drops again. “Uh no I’m sorry. I didn’t even know he was back until you guys texted me”

The walk to his room was nerve wracking. Why were you so nervous? You’re finally seeing your boyfriend after months. You walk in and you’re surprised to see your boyfriend who takes care of his appearance look like total shit. He didn’t notice you come in until you whispered “Ren baby, are you okay?” He looks startled to see you in his room. “What are you doing here I didn’t tell you to come over? What do you want?” You’re surprised by his reaction, because you expected your boyfriend to spring on to you and kiss you. You’ve been waiting for this moment for weeks and this is how it turns out? You turn visibly upset.

“What the fuck Ren? This is how you greet me? What’s wrong with you? I came because my own boyfriend is back and I haven’t seen him In months. I thought you’d be happy to see me. I missed you so much.” Your eyes start to turn glossy, you’re frustrated. He looks at you then scoffs. “Get out. I don’t want to see you right now” Now you’re extra pissed, why does he have an attitude? Ren never has an attitude he’s always so patient. Your anger gets to you and now you’re the one yelling “are you seriously kicking me out?! I want to spend time with you before you have to go back why are you acting so different. Why do you look so different?! You look like total shit and you’re acting like a total fucking douche!” Okay maybe you’re acting a little over dramatic but this better knock some sense into him.

“Get the fuck out. I don’t wanna see you right now, not tomorrow, not ever again. Don’t talk to me again. We’re over.”

Woah. Did he just break up with you? This is the last thing you expected. You turn pale your heart is beating fast. “Wait Ren! No you can’t mean that. Hey just talk to me babe! I’m your girlfriend that’s what you’re supposed to do!” He looks at you and with such disgust he says “ex girlfriend”. That’s when you walk out, into the living room where his family is sitting on the couch. Yup they definitely heard your argument. You can’t see the looks on their faces because you’re tearing up but you walk out.

You get back home, mascara ruined and your dad asks you, “where’ve you been?” You don’t answer him. You don’t want to because what are you supposed to say? You just got broken up with? Hell no it’s embarrassing enough that his family heard yalls argument. You go into your room and scream and cry. The last thing you expected just happened to you.

3 days pass by. Not a single text from Kunigami. To be quite honest, now you’re the one looking like shit. You haven’t gone to school, you can’t show your face anywhere. Your dad is worried but he’s on a work trip right now so he can’t comfort you. “Ask Kunigami to come over, he can always cheer you up.” Right. You still haven’t told your dad.

You hear a knock on the door. You don’t bother getting it, it’s probably just a package arriving. Another knock, harder and faster. By this time you’re annoyed. You go to the door yelling “coming!!” You swing the door open ready to tell someone off but right in front of the entrance to you house is your newly ex boyfriend. Kunigami Rensuke.

You’re flustered, not expecting him. Even more flustered because of what you’re wearing. Spandex and Kunigami’s old shirt. “Uh hey, is there something I can help you with?” You ask awkwardly. “I need to get all my stuff back” he says with no emotion. “Oh sure come in, uh lemme go grab some of your stuff from my room” Kunigami waits patiently on the couch, truth be told you had none of his stuff packed. You wanted to keep all of it.

After about 10 minutes you’re about to finish getting all of his stuff ( he had a lot, it was practically his second home ). Just as you stand up you feel big muscular arms wrap around your waist. You’re startled and mad. Who does he think he is? “Kunigami let me fucking go” you say with so much venom. “What happened to Ren?” He asks. “I’m not going to call you that anymore, we’re not dating remember?” At that he perks up, and lets you go. This time y’all are both facing eachother you get a good look at him and see his puffy eyes. Has he been crying?

You send him off his way and after 5 minutes since he’s been gone you hear another knock on the door. Ugh what does he want? You open the door and before you could say something he comes running in hugging you. “I miss you so much I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry baby. I’m so sorry. Please just let me explain myself please.” You know you should’ve said no, but you can’t this is the man you love. The man you want to spend the rest of your life with.

You let him in. You both are sitting on the couch awkwardly. “Uh what did you have to say” Kunigami stands up and sits closer to you, looking into your eyes. “I’m sorry about how I’ve been acting. I’m so sorry. You know I love you right? I’ve loved you ever since I laid eyes on you. I love everything about you. I messed up. I should’ve told you what’s been going on, I should’ve told you everything from the start. Baby, I lost. I got kicked out of blue lock. I’m sorry. I let you down. But they gave me another chance, I could redeem myself. I took it obviously, my dream couldn’t just end there. But baby it was so hard. So fucking hard. I had to train till my body gave out. They wouldn’t let me talk to anyone. I was so lonely and isolated. I struggled for others people entertainment. I’m sorry. There’s so much more I wish I could tell you but that’s not the point. I can’t use that as an excuse for how I treated you. I was a shitty boyfriend. I’m sorry. I regret everything that I said. Every single thing. I was just ashamed of myself. Embarrassed. Baby I should’ve never broken up with you. I’m so scared right now. I just broke up with the girl I want to marry, the girl I want to spend the rest of my life with, the girl who I love most. I’m sorry. Please just take me back.”

He looks back at you because you haven’t said anything. You’re crying. Shit did he say the wrong thing? “Babe?” “Fuck you ren” you stand up and go to your room. So this is it? Kunigami will never forgive himself. Just as he’s about to open the front door, you come running and you jump on his back.

“HEY where are you going??!!” Kunigami looks back, and sees you carrying tissues. Oh. You left to get tissues. He didn’t notice he was crying until you force his face down kissing his tears away. You lean your forehead into his. “We will talk about this in the morning okay? I’m too tired to think” Kunigami is speechless. What? “You’re not mad?” “Im absolutely pissed right now, but I know you’ve been through a lot so I’m letting you go easy just this one time”

He smiles just as he’s about to say something you kiss him. The kiss is passionate and hungry leaving both of you off of breath. “What was that for?” “Just missed my beautiful boy. Come give me cuddles we haven’t cuddled in months”

He smiles thinking about how lucky he got.

#rensuke kunigami fluff #kunigami x y/n #kunigami x reader #kunigami x you #kunigami fluff #bllk kunigami #blue lock x you #blue lock fluff #blue lock x reader #blue lock angst #rensuke kunigami x reader #kunigami smut #kunigami rensuke #bllk scenarios #bllk fluff #bllk headcanons #bllk x reader

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brighttears · 5 months ago

Text

The Mirror

Joel Miller x f!reader, Found Family Joel x Ellie

Summary: In Jackson, Joel and Ellie have settled down, and you’ve joined their little family. You and Ellie have bonded over poking fun at him, having no idea how much you’re really hurting his already wounded self esteem. Tommy and Maria step in, and eventually, he finds the courage to speak up for himself.

Word count: 10k

Warnings: implied age gap, angst, mentions of Sarah, very sad Joel hates himself, is made fun of for his age and briefly weight, Ellie and you are pretty mean, brief pissed off Joel, Joel cries. Happy ending!!!

A/n: hello from my official first story back, finally finishes this request i started before i dipped out for a bit. Worked very closely with them, @anotherpedrolover to get it just right :3 This is less of an x reader and more of just playing around with Joel and his relationships, which has been super fun. Hope you guys like ~8k words of our favorite poor little meow meow suffering teehee

—

It’s become a ritual for the three of you to sit in the living room many evenings, starting with you and Joel encouraging Ellie to read more, followed by a speech by her on hypocrisy and fairness, whereafter the two of you gave in just to calm her down. It’s quite nice, though, sitting around and reading silently.

You were the one to suggest it, once you felt like you did have room to suggest things, a few months into moving in with the two, having met them nearly a year beforehand here in Jackson. Ellie met you first, then almost literally pulled him to meet you.

Neither he or Ellie had been that social, keeping mostly to themselves, Tommy and Maria being the only exceptions. You were different, though, that’s what Ellie said, and that’s what Joel came to see, too. He’s not exactly sure what to call that thing, the thing at your core that pulled him in. But it doesn’t matter much, because now you’re here, and he’s never loved a woman as much as he loves you.

As he glances up at you, leg hanging over the side of your chair opposite him, face focused on your book, he can’t help but smile at the spark of warmth he gets at the sight.

Naturally, Ellie has her legs stretched out over Joel’s lap, him resting his book over them as he sits on the couch.

She didn’t start being this affectionate until a few months into Jackson. Not all that gradually either, the first few bear hugs genuinely shocking him, but he couldn’t be more pleased with the development. He’s had to get used to affection again himself, coming both from Ellie and you. Now that you live together, he finds himself entwined with you, in one way or another, every single night, and he has found himself indulging more than he has in anything in ages. Nowadays, he eats every touch up like a stray dog. Things like this, Ellie’s lazy legs over his, makes him feel like a father again. Things like twin idling hands over every part of each other you can reach makes him feel like a husband. Nights like these, all gathered in the living room, makes it feel like you’re a family.

However, his bladder refuses to let him soak up the moment anymore, so he breaks the peaceful silence, sliding Ellie’s legs off of his lap, “Alright, kiddo, I gotta interrupt ya for a minute.” As he gets to his feet, Joel groans automatically, nearly limping on a stiff knee for a moment as he turns around the couch and towards the hallway.

Watching him walk away, Ellie pouts, before a mischievous grin spreads across her face. “Look, look, I’m Joel.” Once she sees him looking at her, she groans, dramatically loud, pushing herself out of her seat slowly, then proceeding to walk even slower, one heavy foot at a time with her back curved and an imaginary cane in her hand. “Aauuh, my back, my knees, aaaugh,” she says with a gravelly voice, face twisted down. Immediately, you’re guffawing. Joel shakes his head as he watches, then looks down to pinch the bridge of his nose with a hint of a smile on his face. Though the impression is pretty funny, he doesn’t love the fact that it’s supposed to be of him.

“I’m 58, not 80, asswipe.”

“Come oooon,” she laughs, “that was spot on.”

“You do groan like you just got punched in the gut every time you get up.” You chuckle.

Despite how much he loves the sight, looking at the way you and Ellie grin and laugh with each other suddenly hits a chord in Joel. You’re laughing with each other, at him. It feels like neither of you give a damn about him in this situation at all. He’s just something to make fun. And, is that really how you see him? Senile?

Joel shakes it off, making himself chuckle, not wanting to ruin the fun, labeling himself as overly sensitive. “Can’t even take a piss in peace.” He mumbles as he turns and walks away, leaving you and Ellie in giggles behind him.

In the bathroom, he stares at his reflection. Gray, wrinkled, dark circles under his eyes, littered in scars. He guesses it really is the best thing, for you all to be in Jackson, because he doesn't have many more years left out there on the road. He’s lucky he hasn’t gotten himself or Ellie killed, god knows there were more than a few close calls, like when she had to shoot that kid, or had to nurse him back to health when he didn’t see that last guy coming at the university and got himself impaled. He’s too old for that. He’s too old.

You’re much younger. It confuses him often, why’d you want to be with an old man like him, but he has decided to take what he can get at this point. You haven’t left yet, so he’ll enjoy it while he can. But how many years does he have left of that, if you do stay? With you and Ellie?

He can barely recognize himself. When did he get this old? His joints ache in changing weather. He has to put significantly more effort into getting up, and yeah, he does groan like he just got punched whenever he does. One day, if he even gets that far, he will need a cane. He won’t even be able to go on patrols. In just a few years, he’ll be useless. He won’t be able to keep anyone safe at all. Hell, he’s probably at this point now. Slow and deaf and weak.

At least Ellie will have you. But… eventually, you’ll have to take care of him, too.

It all becomes too much. He looks down, and turns the light off.

—

Tonight is game night at Tommy and Maria’s, the game of choice being Monopoly, both Ellie’s favorite and least favorite, depending on whether or not she wins, though you’re all pretty competitive. She’s in the lead tonight, standing over the table to aggressively shake the dice, then, when they land in her favor, pretty much ending the game, throwing her hands up in victory with a very loud succession of yes’s. Joel, who had been right on her tail, throws his hands up with a dramatic “Aaawww,” a smile under his mock disappointment.

“Another loss for Joel,” Ellie tells him, smiling, then bows, “thanks to yours truly.”

“That was the luck of the dice, Ellie.” Joel points out, leaning back in his chair.

“No, that was me beating your ass. You can’t keep up with me, old man.” She smiles, throwing up more air punches. Everyone’s laughing, and Joel tries his best to, but there’s that line he hates. Tommy, however, can't miss the look under his brother's half hearted chuckle.

“Hey, Joel, help me get some wood for the fire.” Tommy cocks his head to the back door, and the two leave you, Maria, and Ellie inside to chat and put the game back away.

They start at the woodpile, taking a few logs to the back porch, but at the door, Tommy pauses, setting his small stack down. “Hey, Joel.” Joel places his logs down, then straightens to look at him. Tommy purses his lips, pausing. “Looks like they’re gettin’ along pretty well.”

“Yeah,” Joel looks down with a light smile. “Sure are.”

“They sure do like to take the mick out on ya.” Joel tries to hide behind a chuckle, but Tommy sees through him like a pane of glass. “Doesn’t seem like you’re havin’ as much fun with it as they are, though.”

“Ah,” Joel waves his hand dismissively, still trying to smile, “it’s all in good fun. I don’t mind.”

Tommy sighs, stepping forward to put his hand on his brother’s shoulder, making him look at him. He draws his brows together, keeping his voice quiet, “You can be honest with me, Joel. I know it’s botherin’ you.”

Joel looks down at his feet. “You’re right I mean, I don’t love their fun bein’ at my expense, but… if they’re havin’ fun and gettin’ along, who am I to stop them?”

“Nah, Joel. It shouldn't be like that. You gotta set up some boundaries or somethin’.”

Joel shakes his head. “It’s no big deal. As long as they’re happy, I don’t care.”

Tommy sighs. “Yeah, well, I care, and I know they do, too. I know it’s hurtin’ you, and I know they would stop doin’ it they knew.”

Joel raises his gaze to look at his brother with genuine eyes. “If they’re happy, I’m happy.”

Pursing his lips, Tommy shakes his head. “You don’t look very happy.”

Brushing it off, Joel chuckles, looking down at his feet again. “Well, I’ll work on that, then.”

Tommy's expression remains the same, almost pleading. Quietly, he urges, “You should tell them, Joel.”

After a moment, Joel replies quietly, “Yeah, yeah.”

Knowing full well that he won’t, Tommy sighs. After a pause, he sighs again, then picks the logs back up and goes back into the house.

Joel keeps his gaze on the ground, considering his brother’s words. He imagines the conversation, the hurt and disappointment on the face of two of his favorite people, the shame he’d feel, and the resulting quiet in the house.

Tommy has talked to him about his bad habit of putting himself last, but he has yet to understand why that’s a problem, why he would deserve it being any other way.

Though he tries to keep it out of his mind, he thinks about it every day, how he lied to Ellie after Salt Lake City. Sometimes, when he looks at her, that’s all he sees, and he sees the same thing in the mirror. He betrayed her. And he can’t find a way to tell her. So, doesn’t he owe her his own suffering? He can repent without telling her by letting her be as mean as she wants, even though he knows she doesn’t mean to be. It's better than how she would treat him if she knew what he did.

He feels so disconnected from her already, but he can’t stand to lose her. That’s why he did what he did in the first place, both the killing and the lying. He just can’t.

He deserves this. He’s a liar, he's weak, he's old, he’s not fun like he used to be. He can’t keep up. So, why should he say anything? What makes him deserve to stand up for himself? Why would he deserve any respect at all?

He just can’t lose her. Or you. Even if this is how it is from now on, being made fun of, it’s better than nothing.

Joel takes a deep breath, picks up the thick, heavy logs, and walks back through the door, wiping the sour look on his face as he enters back into the sound of banter and laughter.

He does pretty well, his training of keeping himself hidden away with a composed mask paying off. Still, it’s on his mind.

It’s impulsive, really, when he poses the question casually to Ellie, “You really think I can’t keep up with you? Gettin’ too old?”

“Pff,” Ellie chuckles, elbowing him. “Don’t get me wrong, you can hold your own, but look at those gray hairs. You could be my grandpa.” To Ellie, it’s funny, but Joel’s guts twist. He laughs it off.

He slinks to your side then, sliding his arm around your waist. You offer a sweet smile and a kiss to his cheek. He leans into it, but swallows hard.

“Hey uh,” he tries with you, “Little Ellie said she thinks I could be her grandpa. Makin’ be feel like a manther.”

“Manther?” You crinkle your brow, a hint of a laugh on your lips.

“Yeah, you know,” he cocks his head, self conscious. “Like I’m uh, too old for you.”

You chuckle, pressing another kiss to his cheeks. “I like the gray.” That’s all you say before turning back to the conversation. Though you lean into his side, it doesn’t make Joel feel any closer to you.

He is an old man. And that’s about it.

He doesn’t deserve either of you. He’s not enough.

He has no idea what he’s doing here.

—

It’s a slow, quiet morning in Jackson, Joel still sleepy as he sips his coffee, sitting at the breakfast bar as you pour a cup of your own across from him in the kitchen. Despite the seeming dullness of them, mornings like these are one of Joel’s favorite things. Simply peaceful, no dreading the day, he’s allowed to be only half awake. With the love of his life to share it with, and Ellie to come join you whenever she decides to pull herself out of bed—because she’s allowed to take her time, now, too. Joel looks at you, standing with your back against the counter with a mug in your hand. There’s a light smile on your face, but you’re looking at the floor, which is curious, and then you wink, but he barely has time to register it before Ellie comes jumping up from the other side of the counter, yelling “BOO!” right in his face.

“Jesus fuck—” he yells on impulse, almost flinging coffee on himself as he lurches back in his seat, eyes wide, instantly completely awake. You and Ellie immediately erupt in laughter, Ellie leaning over the counter at him with a wide grin. “Jesus, Ellie.” He sighs deeply, closing his eyes and taking a breath as he leans back in his chair.

“Gotta keep you on your toes, old man.” Ellie giggles while you continue in your fit of laughter.

“Yeah, yeah.” Joel rolls his eyes, sighing again as he leans wearily over the counter, trying to catch his bearings and calm his pulse.

Still laughing, you and Ellie high five. “That was good,” you giggle at her, then look at him as he rubs his eyes, a faint smile still on his lips. It’s hard to be in a bad mood when the two of you are laughing like this. “You’re too easy, Joel.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.” He chuckles lightly, “So much for a peaceful morning. Christ, one of these days you’re gonna give me a heart attack, Ellie.”

“Aw, you can handle it.” She replies, going around the bar to slap his shoulder, still grinning. “Besides, I know CPR.”

Joel looks at her, attitude in his voice when he asks, “Do you?” Because he knows full well that she does not know CPR.

“Yeah. It’s like that song, you know, the one that goes, being alive, being alive,”

“You mean stayin’ alive?”

“Yeah, whatever, that.”

“That’s a song, Ellie, not CPR. And you don’t even know the damn song.”

“Well… she knows CPR.” She points at you, “Right?”

You nod, an amused smile on your face, “Yes, I do.”

“Then you’ll be fiiiine.” Ellie slaps Joel’s shoulder again, and he gives her a look, brows raised.

“Well, I would prefer not to have to get CPR at all.”

“Well, I’m surprised you haven’t gotten used to being boo’d by me by now.”

“Boo’d?” Joel scrunches his raised brows.

“Yeah, you know, BOO.”

Joel looks at her, hiding amusement with a mask of the fuck are you talking about. Then he shakes his head, going back to his coffee. “I swear to god, you two.” He mumbles into a sip, holding in a chuckle.

“Aw, come on, you love it.” You say with a smile. He raises his eyebrows at you, answering flatly, “Sure I do.” Which only makes you and Ellie laugh more.

With Ellie in the kitchen, the morning is no longer quiet, now filled with banter and conversation. Joel stays mostly quiet with his coffee, observing. He really was enjoying the peacefulness, and it takes a while for his pulse to calm, but what’s important is the two of you; you’re his favorite show. He loves nothing more than to see you two happy. And you fit each other very well—you can actually keep up with her.

You’re his favorite person, and probably Ellie’s favorite, too. The two of you are thick as thieves, and have grown to love making fun out of him. But it’s good, it’s good that you’ve bonded over it. That’s what matters. Because you two are far more important than he is.

—

Joel is exhausted tonight, though the patrol wasn’t too much. A few Infected at the tree line, not much more, but his sleep hasn’t been the best lately. It’s starting to get chilly again, and he has been looking forward to getting home to a warm house, and to hopefully catch Ellie before she goes to bed.

When he enters the house, he can hear familiar, faint giggling from upstairs. He smiles at it, hanging his coat on its hook by the door before starting up the steps. The quiet chatter is coming from Ellie’s room, and his smile only grows as he pushes the door open with his knuckle.

The two of you whip your heads to him, sitting cross legged on the floor.

“What’re you two gigglin’ about?” He asks with a smirked smile.

“Nothing.” Is Ellie’s immediate reply, a mischievous smile plastered on her face.

“Nothin’, huh?” Joel’s heart falls, but he keeps it to himself. “I take it I won’t get to hear about this then, huh?” He tries to keep the smile on his lips, though his chest is starting to ache.

“Yeah, it’s just between us girls, you know.” You smile like Ellie.

“Oh. Ok.” He clears his throat, feet shifting out of the doorway. “I guess I’ll uh, leave you two to it then.” All you do is smile at him, a dismissal of his presence, and he backs out of the doorway and leaves for his bedroom.

As he unties his boots, Joel’s heart gets heavier and heavier. He kicks them off, changes, and slides into bed, wanting the day to be over. But his mind won’t obey, keeping him from sleep once again.

It used to be between him and Sarah. They’d have all kinds of late night talks, granted it wasn’t a school night. He knew everything, all the teachers she liked and didn’t, every crush, why the book she was assigned for homework was stupid. And he’d talk about work, everything that was going on, the deadlines that kept getting impossibly tighter, how the apprentices were doing.

They’d talk about where they wanted to go on vacation, what colleges Sarah was daydreaming about despite her youth, whether or they should get a dog or a cat, what it would be like if Sarah’s mom was still around.

Everything.

On the road, he and Ellie would talk about plenty of stuff. They got close. He remembers when they were riding to where the Fireflies were supposed to be, before he got stabbed by that bat and almost died and then Silver Lake. And then how thought everything was solved right after, and how it wasn’t, and then Salt Lake City happened.

It’s a completely different world. From 2003, from just a couple years ago.

Now, Ellie’s here, in this big community. She’s in school. Living in a house. About as normal as one can get these days.

But it’s not like it was when he had another young girl living with him. He misses that. He misses Ellie.

But at least she has you.

But he wishes it was him. At least, partly, him.

But it’s not.

He closes his eyes.

—

“Joel!” Ellie cries out, violently ripping Joel out of sleep, and he’s instantly on his feet. When he hears your voice crying his name out, too, every cell in his body is in a panic, almost falling as he races down the stairs. What could have happened? Have Infected broken through the gates? Is someone attacking you? Did one, or both of you, get injured? Is he about to lose one of you? This place is supposed to be safe!

When he finally sees you, he’s befuddled.

You’re both smiling in the kitchen, bacon searing in a pan next to one of scrambled eggs.

“We made breakfast!” You announce, both of you giggling.

Joel swallows, standing at the bottom of the stairs. “Are y—is everythin’ alright?”

“Yeah, we just wanted to let you know that we made breakfast.”

Once the shock has worn off, anger bubbles up. He feels it register on his face, but tries his best to reel himself in, swallowing hard. You made him breakfast. You made breakfast for all three of you. That’s a very nice thing to do. All you were doing was waking him up. You weren’t trying to hurt him. You didn’t know how it would affect him, how it would nearly make his life flash before his eyes. That’s his problem, not yours.

“Y—don’t—just, come wake me up next time.” He states, trying to keep a hold on his sternness.

“Jeez,” Ellie raises her brows, “someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed.

Joel sighs through his nose, looking at you, but all you do is shrug with a smile. He swallows.

Suddenly, there’s a knock on the door, followed by a familiar voice. “Mornin’, just us.” Tommy calls out, he and his wife smiling back at a confused Joel when he opens the door.

“I invited them for breakfast this morning, remember?” You say as you come up beside him, a hand instinctively rubbing his back.

“Oh, I uh,” Joel glances between you and the couple at his door, “must’ve forgot. Come on in.”

“Forgetting a lot these days,” Ellie teases as she sets plates out on the table. Her tone is teasing, but Joel can’t help the tightening of his jaw at the reminder of his failures. When he flicks his eyes back up, he’s me with Tommy’s, and he knows he’s been caught red handed by the concern in them. He switches his gaze right back to the floor, making his way to a seat at the table.

“Wow, look at this spread,” Maria comments, smoothing the cloth napkin under the silverware over her lap, a move that only makes Joel think again, what am I doing here? Cloth napkins alone are something that hadn’t crossed his mind in just about two decades. And despite Maria’s innocent move, paired with her eventual attempt to make him feel more welcome into the community, the resentment he feels for her hasn't quite let him go. So… civilized, so proper. Better than him.

“Well, make sure you serve yourself first, Joel likes to hog bacon.” Ellie returns as the five of you settle down at the table.

“I do not,” he counters, tone mild, though slightly wounded.

“Do to.” She raises her brows as she spoons eggs onto her plate, “You’re gonna need to get a bigger pair of pants soon, swear.”

To his dismay, you’re chuckling when he looks at you. And when he sees the obvious concern in his brother's eyes, he decides it might be best just to keep his head down. So, he hardly says anything at all, despite Tommy’s repeated attempts to bring him into the conversation. He’s busy arguing with himself in his head, still partly angry, but feeling guilty, too. He wants to be pissed. It was a rude awakening, but it was meant to be harmless. It makes him feel like he doesn’t belong here, like his head is still stuck out there outside of the walls. But he should still be on alert, nowhere is really safe, not even Jackson. What if you were hurt? What if something had happened? He needs to be ready. And you two were being reckless, calling wolf like that. But you were just trying to call him to breakfast. It was innocent. You’re both innocent.

And then the fact that he forgot that Tommy and Maria were coming over this morning. He almost can’t believe himself. His mind, his sharpness, clarity, and memory, that he’d relied on for survival, is he losing it? Fucking senile. Fucking weak. Fucking stupid. Selfish, just by being here.

It goes around and around like that, and in the end, he can barely finish his food. Ellie’s earlier teasing doesn’t help, either. She’s right, he has gained some weight since arriving in Jackson, but who can blame him, after being close to starving so often? Well, Ellie can, apparently.

But she means nothing by it, right? And you’re not laughing because you agree, right?

“Hey,” Tommy startles him out of his spiral, cocking his head towards the kitchen when Joel looks up at him, “come help me with the dishes. Least we can do for these ladies making a whole meal for all of us.”

Nodding, Joel gets up to help gather plates and follow his brother to the kitchen. Tommy stays quiet for a few moments as he wipes the plates that Joel washes, but he knows he’s in for a lecture sooner or later.

“Joel.” He finally says, keeping his voice low with the help of the running faucet to keep the conversation quiet. “You gotta say something.”

“About what?” Joel mumbles, keeping his eyes focused on rinsing a soapy plate. He hears his brother sigh.

“You know what I’m talking about.”

“It’s fine, Tommy.” He nearly snaps back.

His brother turns to him, “No, it ain’t.” When Joel doesn’t look up, he sighs again. “Look at me, Joel.” Finally he does. “It’s just not right.” Tommy shakes his head, tone both with genuine concern for his brother with a lilt of anger towards you and Ellie. When Joel notices it, he straightens, almost puffing out his chest. Holding himself back from shoving his finger in Tommy’s chest, he replies sternly, “Now don’t you go blaming them for my fuckin’... sensitivity—”

“Stop, Joel.” Tommy takes a breath, taking the last clean plate from his hands and slowly drying it as he speaks. “It just hurts me. To see them treating you like that. And I know they don’t mean it like that, and I know that they don’t know. And that's why I’m tellin’ you, you have to speak up for yourself. Please, Joel, if not for your sake, then for mine, and for theirs.” He points his finger back towards the living room.

Joel huffs, looking back down as the faucet runs over the clean plate. “I'll deal with it.” He says eventually.

Tommy lets out his own huff, pausing. “Alright.” He replies quietly, pausing again before making his way back into the living room. After a moment of watching him go, Joel turns back to the sink, shutting off the tap and swiping up the towel to dry off his hands. “Can’t catch a fuckin’ break.” He mumbles to himself, thinking about what a wonderful way this is to start off his day.

—

This weekend, it’s the second Miller household’s turn to host game night, and after a very loud game of Uno, the five of you have settled down in the living room for a drink—except for Ellie, that is, who, like every time a bottle is opened around her, begged for a glass and rolled her eyes when she was told, no, you cannot have a glass of whiskey on the rocks.

The brothers are stood chatting about the latest fixer upper with their elbows on the mantle while the girls are huddled up on the couch.

“Figure we got about a month left.” Joel concludes, and Tommy nods in agreement, and then their attention is brought to a burst of giggles. It turns the corner of Joel’s lip up, and he inquires, “What so funny over there?”

The giggles stop, and all three of your heads switch over to his question.

“Private,” is all Ellie says, and you have to stifle a giggle.

Having been told that twice now, Joel’s heart falls, but irritation quickly bubbles up. Flustered, his lip twitches, and he hardens his brow.

“Ellie,” he starts, adjusting his arm on the mantle, voice sharp like the glass in his chest, “it’s rude to have a private conversation when we’re trying to all have family time here.”

“Jesus,” Ellie rolls his eyes, only piquing Joel further, “manners!”

“Manners—“ Joel starts, ready to set fire to the entire living room, wounded and now humiliated in front of his brother and his wife, but she interrupts him, “Yeah, manners, we’re over here trying to have a private conversation which you are interrupting. Goes both ways, old man. Don’t get all mad at me cause you’re still so un-domesticated.”

Her tone isn’t serious, but her words make him feel hollow. He shifts on his feet, torn between anger and shame, then glances at Tommy. His brows are upturned, his lips a thin line. Joel’s chest tightens, now frustrated and only further embarrassed at snapping. He hasn’t done that in a while. He’s trying. He’s trying to learn how to be calm. How to breathe. How to be polite. Keep his cool.

But his lip twitches, and his mind goes blank.

“Ellie, knock it off.” He nearly growls. Her eyes widen, brow raised. “Woah, there,” but then you cut in, softer voice almost pleading, “She’s just being a teenager, Joel.”

“Yeah,” he nods, “I know what teenagers are like. Doesn’t mean we have to put up with the bullshit.”

“Joel—” Tommy tries. Joel turns to him, face scrunched, “Don’t Joel, me, Tommy. Am I the only one gettin’ fed up with this shit?”

“What shit?” Ellie cuts back in, face scrunched just the same.

Joel takes a step forward, unable to stop himself. “The shit where you disrespect everyone who—” he pauses. Everyone who’s put their life on the line to put up with you, is what had tempted his tongue. Thank god his teeth had the instinct to bite his tongue when they did, because it would have been something that he didn’t mean, that he didn’t even believe. He glances around at every set of eyes turned to him, all looking like they’re bracing themselves. He falters, lets out a breath, then heads straight for the kitchen. “Fuckin’ bullshit.” Comes out under his breath.

Opening the fridge to set an ice cube that he doesn’t need into his near empty cup, he takes a breath, forcing it out through his nostrils. “The fuck is his problem?” He hears Ellie whisper from the other room, and that’s when the anger slips away to make room for the crushing guilt, and he finds himself unable to move, chest knotted and heavy.

“Hey,” he hears quietly at his side, turning to see Maria leaning against the doorframe.

Snapping back into reality, he closes his eyes and clenches his jaw, knowing ignoring her is unacceptable. He’s just not in the fucking mood.

“Hey.” His voice comes out gruff.

She comes around to his side, forcing him to turn with his back towards the living room. She glances back at it, then lowers her voice. “Tommy talked to me about—“

“Course he did.” Joel grumbles, closing his eyes and swiping his hand over his forehead.

“Yeah,” Maria cuts back in, tilting her head with sharp eyes. Then, she closes them, bowing her head for a moment before coming back up with a forced, calm expression, a strategy he envies deeply. “He did,” she begins again, “because he cares. Therefore, I care. Ellie was rude. And I apologize for that.” Joel closes his eyes and shakes his head, but as soon as his mouth starts to form a rebuff, she cuts him off again. “Can you just let me finish, Joel?” She doesn’t wait for an answer, lowering her tone. “She is the one who doesn’t have manners, she’s the one who has never lived in a civilized community. Not like this. Not like the world before. Because of that, she also doesn't understand boundaries. So,” she sighs, tilting her head again, “being in the position you are, it’s your responsibility to teach her. She doesn’t know what she’s doing because she never learned. You have. You’re a good man, and a strong man.” Joel is taken aback by her words, not expecting a compliment from her, especially not paired with the earnestness in her eyes. “You deserve kindness and respect. Not to say you need to discipline her, just… let her know. How you’re feeling. That she’s hurting you.”

Joel is so tired of saying he’s fine when he isn’t so many times in the last week that he decides to just keep his mouth shut for a moment. After a moment, he nods, staring down at the dregs of gold left in his glass.

“Thank you.” He eventually mumbles.

“You're welcome.” She returns with a tight lipped but genuine smile. Then, she pats his arm, and walks back to the living room, announcing, “Hate to be the one to say it, but it’s bedtime.”

As they bid their goodnights, Joel is almost absent, besides the feeling of tension in the air like static whenever Ellie nears him.

In his head, there’s shame, first and foremost—for snapping at Ellie, to have a problem that Tommy had to talk to his wife about. For not seeing what Maria saw, too wrapped up in his head to see the bigger picture; by letting her down, again.

But there’s something on his mind, too. An idea of how to fix it. Having his head grabbed and forced to look through the lens of being responsible, not just a victim, flicks a switch in his head. The first occurrence of a drive to actually talk to her about it. Now, it’s for her. He can do that. Because he’ll do anything for her.

—

The next night, Joel pauses in front of Ellie’s door, careful to stay out of the line of light coming from her bedside lamp. He raps his knuckles softly on the door, “Hey, you got a sec?”

“Yeah,” Ellie calls back, followed by the soft thwap of a closing book, “come in.”

His steps are hesitant, almost awkward as he makes his way to the bed, permissed to sit when she brings her legs up to fold under her.

“Listen, baby girl,” Joel starts, eyes on the floor as memories of talks with Sarah that always start with that very phrase. “I gotta talk to you about something.”

“Mhm?” She nods, innocence in her eyes that make his gaze land straight back on the floor.

“We just… uh, boundaries.” He attempts at purpose in his voice. “You gotta understand, when, uh, y’know, you can’t just go around teasing people all the time.”

“I don��t tease everyone, I just tease y—“

“Yeah, I know. But you can’t make that a habit, alright? It can hurt people's feelings, sometimes.”

This is the best Joel can do, unable to openly speak on how he feels, tell her that she’s hurt him. But Ellie won’t let him off that easily, her tone softening, sounding almost like she’s just a kid, which she is, but barely ever shows. “I hurt your feelings?”

It comes out so small, fidgeting with her fraying sleeve, and that’s what he focuses his eyes on, afraid that if he meets hers, he’ll freeze at the sight. That he’ll see guilt. But he has a purpose. He can’t let himself trip.

The words pauses and strains in his throat a couple times before he can manage them out. “Yeah, sometimes.”

There’s a pause.

“I’m sorry.”

“I know kiddo, I,” he pauses to sigh as guilt washes through his chest, I deserve it ringing in his head, but then he thinks back to Maria’s words. Then, it hits him. Ellie also needs to learn how to speak up for herself. To know that when someone hurts her feelings, she should confront them—using her words instead of her fists—and that she shouldn’t feel sorry for doing so. “It’s alright, I know you’re not trying to be mean. And I—“ he stops himself again, fidgeting his fingers as he lets the shame pass through and out of him before he speaks again. “Sometimes, I…” he nods, like a nervous tick, eyes safely on the floor as he forces the admission. “I struggle. And I know you know that. And I’m sure it’s been hard on you, too, Jackson… it’s a big adjustment. Haven’t seen anything like this in a long, long time. Having all these people around—friendly people. Sit down meals with real portion sizes. And just… a home. And I love it, I do. But, uh, it’s just… I’m not used to… being… settled down. I’m used to runnin’. Used to fightin’. I startle easy, honey. And sure I shove food in me. And I am getting’ older… but…”

“Takes a lot to get to 58.”

He looks at her then, pausing, then nods. “Yeah. Yeah it does.”

“I know I’ve never actually said it, but… I respect you. Really.” She nods.

After a long moment, processing and recovering from that unanticipated sentiment, Joel nods back. “Now, listen—“ he starts, leaning his elbows on his knees, “I’m not asking you to say yes sir no sir, just… cut me some slack, sometimes. Alright?”

Pretending to think on it, Ellie rolls her eyes around the ceiling with a frown before looking back at him and nodding, a small smirk spreading across her face, making Joel’s lips tug up almost automatically. “I think I can manage that.”

“Now look, I,” he waves his hand out, “I don’t want this to be, you know, like you can’t have fun, I like you talkin’ and messin’ around. Highlight of my day. Sometimes.” He shrugs lightly, getting a small chuckle out of her. “I just… would be nice to… be included.” He nods at her, chest tightening at the vulnerability. “Y’know?”

“Yeah. I get that. How about we just team up on your girlfriend?” She smirks.

Joel shakes his head, chuckling. “Or maybe we’ll just team up on you.”

“Psh. As if you could cut through this thick skin of mine. Do you have any idea what kind of zoo FEDRA school was?” She laughs, brow raised.

“And I’m sure you gave ‘em hell.”

“Well… towards the end, yeah.”

“So you toughened up, huh? Weren’t born like this?”

“Well…” she shrugs. “Not really.” Ellie looks down, tracing spirals on her sheets. “I was real sensitive as a kid.” This makes Joel pause. He imagines her, younger, quiet, reserved, but not in a cagey way—soft. Soft enough to get picked on. He’s not quite sure what to say, but she breaks the silence. “So I get it. And I know it’s not… that bad, but… I don’t want you to think you’re anything less than my favorite person.” The edges of her lip tug up, peering up at him, and Joel’s heart aches, not in pain, but something else that he can’t quite put his finger on. For a moment, he’s frozen, but then he blinks, and retreats his gaze to the floor. “Well, that’s an honor.” He replies quietly.

Ellie chuckles, even though it wasn’t a joke. “Well, you’re very welcome. Guess I shouldn’t call you old man anymore, so, what, just, Joel?” Her face twists up, making him chuckle at how unacceptable that seems to be.

“Joel’s fine.” He smirks.

“Ugh, that’s so boring. How about… cowboy? That’s not disrespectful, is it?”

Joel chuckles again, shaking his head. “No, I wouldn’t say so.” He smirks at her, “Kinda has a nice ring to it.”

“Right?” Ellie replies brightly, and the look on her face makes Joel feel like there was never anything wrong in the first place. He pauses on her smile, one rising to his lips at the sight. That’s my girl.

After a moment of trying to memorize that smile, he sighs deeply, then pats her leg. “Alright, kiddo. Time for bed.”

“Yes, sir.” She replies, a smirk on her lips. He smirks back, rolling his eyes.

A smile sticks to his lips as he walks back to his bedroom, relief flowing through him, and this time, after writing I love you on a sticky note to stick on your pillow, it’s not so hard to close his eyes and drift off to sleep.

He did something, something a father does. He did right by her. Like he used to do right by Sarah.

—

That relief didn’t even last to the morning. Instead, doubt ripped at him. Fear that he’d stepped too far, telling her that she’d hurt him. It’d been hard to meet her eyes all day, afraid to see guilt in them, but she was out and about all day anyway, avoiding him, he assumed.

He can’t stand the thought of losing you or Ellie, but isn’t he starting to already, even if it’s just in his head? He doesn’t feel anywhere near as close to either of you as he once did. Though you still have good times together, though there’s still plenty of love, and you’re still all very much a family, he feels like he’s drifting farther and farther away from it. Like he’s starting to just be looking in through a window, putting on a mask.

More than anything, he wants to keep his family. Desperately, he wants the closeness, the unity, the love. The family. Not just the household, the family.

He loves the two of you like he’s loved no one else, not quite like this. With the world the way it is, it’s a different breed of sacrifice than for the one he had before. And he needs the two of you to know that, how much he loves you. But he wants to feel loved, too.

With that last realization, something snaps inside Joel.

I want to feel loved, too. He almost whispers the thought out loud, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes as the tears slip out. Though he’s alone in his room, both you and Ellie are home, and he can’t let himself get caught crying. He sniffles and looks back up, staring into the dark of the night through the window, but it only reminds him of how alone he feels, fueling more tears. It almost startles him, and he shut his eyes quickly—he’s still not a cryer. He must not have realized just how much he was hurting until now, recognizing that he doesn’t feel nearly as loved as he loves.

You deserve to feel loved, comes a ghostly voice in his head, and it sounds like Sarah, and then he sees her, peering up at him like he should know this, because there’s her face looking at him with those big brown eyes and that light smile and all the love in it, and he clenches his teeth and tightens his body, quieting his shaking sobs.

“Fuck.” He breathes out with a hiccup. “Get your shit together.” And he does try, taking a deep breath and looking at the ceiling, but the tears keep coming, beading at his chin.

Weakness. That’s what’s pouring from his eyes. He was weak, and that’s why Sarah died. He was weak, and that’s why Ellie ended up unconscious in that hospital in the first place.

Too deaf and too slow.

Even when he was two decades younger, he failed.

All he does is let them down.

And look at him now, crying, because he can’t, he can’t tell you the truth, because he’s a coward, and he’s weak.

“Fuck,” heaves out of him as he presses the heels of his hands in his eyes, until it hurts, until he’s seeing stars, and his teeth hurt from the clench of his jaw.

He deserves it. But he’s still hurting them. Everything he does is wrong, even when every instinct in him says it’s right.

I let you down, I let you down, he tells Sarah, he tells Tommy, he tells Ellie, he tells you.

That’s who he is. At his core, he’s a disappointment. No matter how hard he tries—

“Hey,” he hears you at the door, and quickly tries to compose himself, almost slapping his face to wipe the wetness off of it with a quick sniffle. “Hey,” he responds, glancing at you, then planting his gaze on the floor, heart starting to race, being caught red handed again. Immediately, you’re at his side on the bed, but he keeps his gaze turned away, trying but failing to be inconspicuous. But your presence alone in the moment is enough to sprout more tears from his eyes, not from guilt but just from that thing you do to him, making him feel safe enough to be honest, vulnerable. To cry. And then your thumb is on his cheek, brushing the tears away. He clears his throat, still turning away, but he knows he can’t hide now.

“What’s wrong?” Concern drips from your gentle voice, and he squeezes his eyes shut.

“Nothin’, I’m alright.” He clears his throat again, though shame starts to boil him, from the crying, and now the lying.

“No, you’re not.”

He sighs through his nose.

“You’re a shit lair.” You try to jest, but it’s just another knife in his chest. Back in the most gentle of tones, you sound almost like you’re begging, “Joel, tell me.”

He swallows thickly, eyes still on the floor. “I don’t know, it’s just, uh,” he tries to clear his throat again, but his face falls, brow drawing up as more tears streak his cheeks.

“Joel, Joel,” you reply instantly, pulling his face to meet your eyes, and he watches your face fall like a ball of lead when you see his pain, then begging him in a whisper, “please, tell me what’s going on.”

It pushes the confession out of him. “I—I don’t wanna make you feel bad, but I just, I just,” he huffs a sigh, “I just feel like the three of us, aren’t as close as we used to be. With—with Ellie, I know that we were on the road, so, we kinda had to be, and with you, ya know… I don’t know. Things have just, changed, and uh,” his voice breaks, but he tries to regain control with a shaky breath, turning his gaze to the floor. “Jackson is a good place, for Ellie, and for you, for all of us, and you and Ellie are close, and that’s good, it’s good. I don’t wanna be ungrateful, I don’t—” you, sensing his back turning on his own feelings, urge him again, voice gentle as a petal, “Joel, tell me.”

He pauses, looking back at you, then confesses, “I just feel like I’m, not who I used to be, to you two.”

You’re visibly taken aback, brow drawing up. “What do you mean?” You nearly whisper.

He closes his eyes, lip starting to wobble. “E—Ellie talks to you, and that’s good,” he nods, “it’s good, it’s, great, but uh… she doesn't talk to me like that, and uh, I used t’, I used to have… those conversations, with Sarah” Joel’s head drops as soon as her name leaves his lips, and your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him immediately to your chest. His heavy hand slides up your side, holding you halfheartedly. There’s the sorrow and shame and pain, but feeling your body against his offers some comfort. It’s followed closely by more sorrow, now allowed, and the words continue to fall out. “An’ uh, you an’—an’ I, I dunno, it’s just, changed, an’, like I said, it’s good you’re close to Ellie, it’s my favorite thing to see, but, but I—”

Before he can finish, you bring him to face you again, cupping his cheeks with your thumbs brushing over the wet streaks, eyes full of sincerity. “I love you.”

Joel closes his eyes, nodding again, leaning into your touch. “I know, I know you do.” He looks at you again, “An’ I love you, too, an’ I need you to know that, an’ that’s why I, I haven’t said anythin’, but I… I don’t want you to feel bad,” he shakes his head, “I—” he stops himself abruptly, sighing deeply and shaking his head again. “Nevermind. Forget it. I’m bein’ a child.” Joel stands up, on his way to retreating straight through the front door and into the cold night, but your grip on his arm surprises him.

“Joel.” When he looks at you, you pause, expression dripping with sympathy, but the first emotion that comes out of him is disgust.

“Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you pity me.” He answers immediately, pulling his arm away and looking at the ground. “You know I can’t stand that shit. Doesn’t even fuckin’ matter. It’s nothin’. Just… lost my… composure. It’s fine. It’s nothin’.” He goes to leave again, but is caught just the same, this time you coming to your feet to pull his arm.

“No, it is not, Joel. You don’t get like this if it’s nothing.” You tug his arm again, trying to take his attention. When he looks at you again, he pauses at the pleading in your eyes. “Joel.” You whisper, “Tell me.”

He swallows thickly, and reluctantly comes back to sit on the bed.

It’s another sharp battle in his mind as he does, the familiar self hatred, but now there’s the guilt of shutting down with you. There have been many conversations, and a promise made. He can’t break it. He can’t break your trust again. So, he speaks, though the words feel thorny in his throat. “I love you. I love seein’ you happy. More than anythin’ I love seein’ you and Ellie happy. You two are everythin’ to me. I want you, always. Life would be nothin’ without you, and without Ellie, and I jus’—I jus’ want you two to be happy,” his voice breaks again, “and that’s why I—I didn’t want to say anythin’, I don’t want to ruin your fun, y—you can joke around, I want you to, even if it’s at my expense I—I just kinda wish I was… included.” Pain lilts his last word. Suddenly feeling childish again, he drops his head. “I shouldn’t be whinin’.” He shakes his head.

“Joel—”

“You’re right, anyway, I’m old, an’ fuckin’ sensitive,” the sourness of the word is obvious in his voice and on his face, “I’m weak an’ everythin’ you two say is true, I,”

“Joel—”

“It’s true, and I shouldn’t be gettin’ this worked up about jus’ some jokes, I’ve just gotten fuckin’ soft,”

“Joel—”

“I’ve jus’ been lettin’ myself go, I guess, I fuckin’ deserve it, shit, I deserve much worse, for all the shit I’ve done,”

“Joel.” Your forceful tone breaks him out of his rant. “No. You don’t, and I’m sorry—”

He hangs his head, “No, I—”

“Joel.” You move his head to look at you again, “no, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize, and I should have—you’re not weak, and you don’t deserve us making fun of you. I just didn’t see it, and that’s my fault, we were being mean,” Joel tries to protest, but you speak over him, “we were, you’re just so damn good at hiding how you feel, and I just wasn’t paying attention. And that’s my fault. And I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be giving you such a hard time all the time. And that is not what I meant by saying you’re sensitive. That is not a bad thing, Joel.” You sigh, looking into his eyes with yours full of love. “Sensitive doesn't mean weak. It’s humanity. I love that you can be soft. And that’s not a small ask. You are not a bad person. With what the world is now, there are plenty of people who have done much worse. Joel, you still have a heart, and it’s full, and you’re giving, you’re self sacrificing, Jesus, Joel, you’ll do anything for people you love. And yeah, it gets messy, but it’s love. You have been through so much. But you still have your heart. And I love it more than anything, Joel. More than anything. I love you,” you pause to kiss his forehead, “I love you to pieces, Joel, I adore you, and I want you to know that. And I haven’t been showing that. And that’s my fault. None of this is on you, love.”

“I just want you two to be happy…” Joel whispers, looking into your eyes.

“We want you to be happy, too.”

“I just don’t wanna ruin your fun—”

Ellie’s voice interrupts, “We want you to have fun, too, Joel.” You both snap your heads to her standing in the doorway, looking almost small, fingers brushing the edge of the door she’s cracked open.

“Ellie…” Joel hangs his head, voice dripping with shame. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

She comes almost charging in, sitting at Joel’s other side to wrap her arms around his shoulders. He leans into it immediately, turning to wrap his arms right back around her. She buries her face into the crook of his neck, and he holds her tighter, sighing shakily. “I’m sorry, baby girl.”

“No, I’m sorry.” She says, muffled into his shoulder. Then, she whispers, “I just didn’t know. Thought you just knew that you were the shit.” This gets a small chuckle out of him, warmth filling his chest as he holds onto her, her small arms wrapped around his shoulders. She buries her face further into the crook of his neck, and Joel sighs deeply, knowing that Ellie is the most precious thing on this planet.

After a moment more in the embrace, they pull away slowly. Joel looks at the floor, sighing, and smooths his hand over you and Ellie’s knees.

“I love you two more than anythin’.”

“And we love you, too.”

Joel sighs. “I know.”

“Not enough, though.” You tell him, folding your hand into his and squeezing it. “Like Ellie said, you're the fucking shit.” You smile, though there’s still the upturn between your brows and wetness in your lashes. “And you deserve to be shown that.”

Joel sighs, looking back at the floor. “I don’t want this t’… mess everything’ up, I want you guys to have your fun,”

“Oh, we can’t stop having fun.” Ellie smiles, “But it’s not fun without you.” Joel smiles back with a small chuckle, squeezing her knee. She puts her head on his shoulder and sighs. “We love you, Joel.”

“I know. An’ I love you, too.”

A silence falls, a blanket of calmness, but it feels warmer than ever. Though he broke down in front of both you and Ellie, he’s relieved that he did. Honesty is freeing. It’s all out on the table, and the only thing he got out of it was love. No anger, no shaming, but kindness, care. Love.

As he sits, a contented smile raises to his lips. He feels the warmth of his family. He sighs. His family.

—

Coming home from his last late night shift of the week, a tired Joel stamps his snowy boots on the mat inside the door, breathing out a relieved sigh. The house has felt warmer ever since the heart-to-heart the other night.

“He’s gonna love it.” Comes your voice from upstairs, raising his curiosity, so he hangs his jacket and starts for the stairs.

“I hope so.” Is Ellie’s quiet reply, but he can still tell it’s coming from his room.

When he walks in, you flip your heads around, Ellie’s hands on a frame being hung on the wall across from him.

“Hey.” He says, confused.

You turn to him with a smile, “Welcome home, Joel. Ellie has a surprise for you.” Ellie attempts to smile, but is obviously shy. She finishes hanging the large frame and steps back, eyes staying on Joel.

Instantly, he can recognize what it is, and his breath hitches. On the wall is a pencil sketched portrait of him. Almost in shock, he walks closer. The likeness is amazing, but still with the penciled brush of her distinctive style. “Damn, Ellie.” He says quietly, trying to keep composed. “This is amazing, sweetheart.”

“That’s what I said.” You say, a smile in your voice. “I guess she’s so used to seeing your face so much she’s pretty much memorized it.”

That hits home.

“Thanks.” Ellie replies, still shy. He glances at her, then pulls her close to his side as he looks back at the drawing, unable to keep his eyes off of it.

“When did you…”

“It took a few days.”

“Ellie…” tears start to well up in his eyes, so he clears his throat. “Damn.” He sniffles.

“I’m glad you like it.” She replies, face squished against him with her arms wrapped around his middle.

“I love, baby girl, I love it. I love it.” He kisses her head, squeezing her tighter. After another moment of staring at the piece, he looks down at her, met with a smile, and he chuckles at the remaining shyness, tickled at the idea that she should be anything other than extremely pleased with herself. This little girl is talented. “Thank you.”

“You're welcome.” She replies, smile widening.

He looks back at you then, at the smile on your face, pride in Ellie, adoration at the moment he’s sharing with her. “C’mere.” He says, offering his other arm out, and you oblige almost with haste, laying your head on his shoulder with his arm around your waist.

“It really is amazing, Ellie.” You tell her.

“Took me a few days, and a lot of erasing, and swearing, but I think it turned out alright.”

“Alright,” Joel chuckles, “Ellie, I—” when his eyes find the ghosted outline of that scar hidden in his hairline, he can’t finish his sentence, the start of a sob catching in his throat. He sniffles and sighs, rubbing her arm. “Damn. Means the world to me, Ellie.”

“Well, you mean the world to me.”

He looks down at her again, but all she does is press her cheek into his side. He half chuckles, half sniffles again, chest full to the brim with gratitude and joy and love. The feeling of being loved.

You both love him, and he knows it, he does, but it’s been foggy. But this gift from Ellie, knowing how hard she worked on it, and that she didn’t even need a reference, she just knows his face, is just something else.

He can get in his head about things, you’ve helped him to realize that, but he hasn’t quite gotten the hang of getting out of it.

But this does. He sees his graphite reflection, coming from Ellie’s loving little hands. He’s important. He means something. His purpose and meaning is love, it’s family, it’s you and Ellie and Tommy.

And everything everyone has done to try to help him see it. Tommy’s urging, Maria’s wisdom, your care and concern, and Ellie’s work.

Reflecting on it, the love becomes more and more clear.

All the smiles he sees from you Ellie, her first impulse still to laze on him in the couch, the touches and kisses from you as natural as the air itself. Tommy, able to read him like a book, nearly begging him to stand up for himself, because Tommy thinks he deserves better. Maria stepping in, not to scold, but to empathize. Your immediate amends, the tugging of his arm. Pulled in by the ones he loves every day.

Whether he thinks he deserves it or not, the most important people do. And he has it. It would be foolish to push it away. And he just doesn’t need to anymore. He has his home here. And he wants it more than anything. And he’s earned it. So he’ll take it. In Jackson, what else is there to do but live in this love?

In his graphite reflection, he sees the love that belongs to him, and feels the warmth of it at his sides.

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katyawriteswhump · 6 months ago

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(You’re just) too good to be true

For @astrangersummer week 3 prompts, flowers and/or hugs. Thanks to bananas and yesdanger on discord for the extra prompts to get me going. I have tried to get as many in as possible.

Summary: Steve wakes up in hospital after everything is over and can’t quite believe how well everything has turned out…

Rating: T. WC: 1460 CW: None. Other tags: Steddie, platonic stobin, angst, sickfic, hurt/comfort, temporary amnesia, fix-it fic, everybody lives.

…

Steve flutters his eyes open and spies Robin sitting by his bed. Mascara streams down her face, and her hair’s a literal disaster zone.

“Steve! You’re awake!” She grabs his hand. “You’re gonna be okay. The doctor should be here any minute.”

Doctor!?! Where the heck am I?

His throat proves too dry for words. Robin garbles way too fast for him to understand and she’s wringing his fingers ever tighter.

If she’s touching me, I guess it can't be rabies.

His memory triggered, the shitshow slams back. First, the bats, the bites. Then everything that happened after, until they journeyed again into the Upside Down to try to kill Vecna.

Oh hold on, scratch that.

To fail to kill Vecna.

Staring blankly through Robin, he fixates on the terrible parts. Eddie lying bloodied and dead in Dustin’s arms. Dustin sobbing his eyes out. Max was pretty much lost too, and Vecna was alive, gone to ground, and…

What happened next? Why am I in a hospital bed? Jesus, I was fine!

There’s one of those IV thingies in his arm. He shivers though can’t tell if he’s cold or hot. The doctor arrives, jostles him, talks at him, shines lights in his eyes. He’s not in pain, but his brain is all woolly, and he’s confused and weak and lost.

He needs a hug more than ever in his life. Robin peeps at him over the doctor’s shoulder, bouncing like a spooked bunny-rabbit, then she’s gone.

It’s all too much.

He quits, sinking back into the darkness.

…

When Steve next pries an eyelid open, he spies Eddie breezing into the hospital room. Eddie joins Robin, who has moved to the window to pick at her nail polish.

Eddie is gone, which means… Oh, no, no, no, no, no! I’m dead too? Or dreaming?

His throat is achy and tight. He closes his eyes again, hot tears welling. More memories trickle back.

“Make him pay,” Eddie had said.

He recalls that last, lingering look between them. The one that slammed him like a freight train, because... Wtf? For some strange reason, that moment doesn’t feel like the end of a story anymore.

It feels like a beginning. Which is just dumb.

Eddie is no more.

He peeps again, watching a dude who is very definitely Eddie pouring bottled water into a vase of flowers on the windowsill. Robin seizes the bottle from him: “What are you doing, shit-bird? Those are silk—his mom brought them. They don’t need water.”

“Riiiight.” Eddie pulls a silly face, which Steve finds freakish levels of adorable. Suddenly, he wants to crush Eddie to him, tell him that he’s insanely happy he’s here, even if this is some crazy dreamworld, and…

… he wants to shove his tongue into Eddie’s mouth and kiss him stupid.

Huh?

Steve licks dry lips. Most bewildering of all, he somehow knows how awesome kissing Eddie is. As if they’ve done it before.

More than once.

Eddie sneezes dramatically. “If those flowers are fake, I’m allergic to WASP chintz. Which checks out, I guess.”

Robin laughs, though it’s sad and nervy. He catches a glimpse of Eddie’s bambi eyes, and they’re anxious, haunted, too. Then Lucas and Max walk in.

MAX? She’s in a coma!

Steve’s head throbs miserably from trying to make sense of this mad place.

He quits and drifts back to the darkness.

…

When he next peeps, Robin and Eleven are sitting by his bed, sharing a packet of cool ranch doritos.

Which makes less sense than ANY OF IT.

Robin’s gotten real picky lately about sharing food. At least, with anybody but him. He’s vaguely pissed, because these two hardly know each other. The way they’re huddled on the same chair, like close buddies, suggests otherwise.

Yeah, he’s vaguely pissed. And kinda jealous. He sort of hates himself for being needy... but he really wants that hug.

Then another memory flashes back. Some alien desert landscape, with Eleven blasting Vecna with everything she’s got. Eddie sprinting toward him—tailed by what looks like a medium-to-large demogorgon with at least a dozen extra flailing limbs—and Robin yelling, “Steve! El’s got this—help Eddie!”

He finally forces his eyes wide enough for them to see he’s watching. “R-Robin?” he croaks.

“Steve!” She leaps to her feet, nearly knocking El and the chair flying. “You’re really, actually awake this time? Please say yes.”

There’s noise and confusion. The doctor arrives again, checks Steve’s vitals, then bitches that there’s too many kids in the room: “It should be family only,” she says.

“We’re his family,” argues Robin. “His parents only come during official visiting hours.”

Robin is allowed to remain. She helps him sip water, and then he says, “Look, I think was dreaming earlier, or off my head on meds, because I saw you with Eddie, and I know that’s impossible, because…” He swallows hard, mumbles the hateful words: “He's gone, right?”

“Oh my God, you don’t remember?”

“Jesus, Robin! Remember what?”

“We won, Steve. Everyone lived. We even got Crissy back. Vecna’s the only one who’s history. If you hadn’t got hurt, it would’ve been the perfect revenge.”

This time, he manages to take more of her story in. He gets lost in the part where Robin and Dustin figure out time travel—some crazy shit about the proximity of alternate dimensions causing rumples in the space-time continuum. The rest of her tale unleashes a slew of badass memories that squish all the terrible ones into the dirt. Instead of Eddie being dead, he recalls…

“You and Eddie totally slayed this nasty-ass demo-squid-monster,” says Robin. “It got pretty intense, and when you survived, you had, like, an EPIC hug. Aaaand might’ve kissed. Then, later, you threw yourself at Eddie to save him from flying debris, then you rolled into a crater, and he wound up on top, and…”

Steve suddenly recalls that moment vividly. Eddie straddled his hips, and his own hands landed not entirely accidentally on Eddie’s butt. Once they’d gathered their breaths, Eddie leaned forward, swiped hair from his face, and whispered:

“About what you said to Wheeler. If you still want to win her back, that’s fine, I’ll back off, but… just so you know, six kids is cool with me, Stevie. Not like we need to adopt. When you’re around, they simply rock up.”

“So, yeah,” Robin says, ripping Steve from these mind-blowing revelations, “it took us half a dozen attempts to get things right. In the final boss-fight, it was just you, me, Eleven and Eddie. We were lost in the Upside Down for weeks, before we exploded Vecna into a billion disgusting pieces. Because you're you, you were closest, got caught in the blast. You lost a lot of blood, but all important appendages are still present and correct, including, um… any important appendages you were particularly worried about. Not that I’m saying you were, but… Ugh!” She facepalms. “This so isn’t where I meant to go with that.”

He faintly smirks. “You dug that hole, not me, Buckley.”

“No need to gloat. You’re gonna be fine. Everyone is going to be just fine.”

It’s still too much to take in. One question bugs him the most: “Eddie and me, erm… How far did we..?”

“I didn’t stand there and count the bases, Dingus! He’ll be back in five. Ask him. But, you know, there was talk of picking out rings, getting matching tats and—”

“You’re kidding?”

“A bit. Seriously, by the third week, you two seemed chill. Happy. I really hope you remember it all soon.”

He takes a beat. Warmth pools in his chest, because everything Robin says sure as heck feels true. He gives her hand a little pulse, and their fingers intertwine.

“Robin,” he says. “At the risk of sounding downbeat, it’s all a bit too perfect. I’m kinda worried I’m dead.”

“Oh! You’re really, really not. I’m all sticky and gross 'cos I was here all night, but… would a hug help?”

He nods, levers himself up a little, suppressing a wince at the effort. He wraps the arm unencumbered by the IV around her, and she awkwardly cuddles him. He rests his cheek on her bony shoulder, and breathes deeply, while she rubs juddering circles in his back.

She’s sweaty and clumsy and real.

“You’re not dead, I promise,” she whispers. “If you were, I’d be so mad with you, after all that effort to fix things. Besides, you still got hurt, and we were all out of time travel opportunities. Long story. Anyhow, it's been hell, till the doctors said you’d be okay, and even then… We’ve been so scared.”

Her trembling shakes through him. He tries not to sniffle, but he can't seem to help it. Everyone survived. Eddie’s alive. Eddie and he are…

His heart gives a crazy squeeze that says everything he needs to know.

“As soon as you’re out of here,” whispers Robin, “this summer is gonna be the best ever.”

(also part of my steve whump fic series on AO3)

#steddie #steve harrington #stobin friendship #platonic stobin #eddie munson #steve x eddie #steddie fic #steve harrington whump #a stranger summer #eddie munson lives

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back2bluesidex · 1 year ago

Text

Where Do Broken Hearts Go - Chapter 1 (18+)

Pairing: Model, ex-boyfriend!Jungkook X Child psychologist, Fem!Reader X Lawyer, Single Dad!Hoseok.

Summary: Jungkook stripped your emotions naked, left you bare in the chilly wind of despair and self-doubt with an unending heartache. You tried your hardest to move on from him, to live for yourself but failed miserably. Each night you had to come back to your empty home where memories and broken dreams were scattered all around the floor, until one day a little angel and her unbelievably beautiful father came into your life. Finally, when you find yourself healing, maybe falling too, Jungkook had to show up! Again!

Theme: Angst, pining, heartbreak, break-up, SMUT (MDNI)

Warnings: lots of crying, reader is broken, she is suffering so bad, a flashback explicit sex scene, big-dick Jungkook, kind of size kink, he hits it from behind, shower sex, unprotected sex (wrap it up), creampie, Jung Hoseok enters the scene, he is so attractive that you might faint, subtle and flirty Hoseok, an adorable little girl, Namjoon makes an appearance.

It's not really mentioned but just so you know, Hoseok and reader has a slight age gap like 5 years. (which is not at all an age gap to me because my first boyfriend was 8 years older than me. haha. you didn't just read that.)

Word count: 4.2k

Taglist requests are closed.

Minors and karens are not allowed in this blog

A/N: First chapter is here. I wrote 4k+ words for a single fic and that's unbelievable. Anyway, I hope you guys like it, and I hope it's worth the wait.

Main Masterlist

Chapters:-

Prologue/Masterpost || Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 5 || Chapter 6 || Chapter 7 - Finale

“Reaching in 10 minutes”

That’s what Jungkook texted you half an hour ago.

It’s nothing new. He has always been late to your every date, every plan, every meetup. What is new is the lack of explanations and excuses following his delayed arrivals. He only apologizes and you hardly hear any sincerity in his atonements.

You sigh, staring out of the huge window of the private cabin.

Jungkook can’t meet you at your (supposed to be shared) home due to his “privacy” issues. So, you had to reserve this private cabin of an over-expensive continental restaurant. It’s funny how all of these feel so formal. It feels as if you are meeting one of your wealthy clients and not your boyfriend. This is how far Jungkook has drifted from you.

Your feet bounce on the floor, reminding you that you are indeed very nervous.

It’s a “leap of faith” situation for you today. If it works out then everything will start afresh, if it doesn’t… you will have to fall and break without having any idea on how to mend yourself.

“Sorry. I’m late.” Jungkook’s muffled voice rings behind your ear.

You were so lost in your thoughts, or fear, that you didn’t even hear him entering the cabin.

He heads towards the seat opposite of yours, without any further greetings, any kiss or even a hug… not even a single glance.

“As if it’s the first time.” you scoff. Jungkook chuckles nervously, removing his mask and snapback.

“Let’s order something. Heard their soy sauce chicken is a hit-”

“Y/N, I can’t stay for long. Can you make it quick?” Jungkook cuts off your words. His tone is so curt, so foreign that you doubt if it’s actually him underneath his skin or not.

“Jungkook… What's wrong? Why are you making things so formal? For fuck’s sake it’s me. Your so-called girlfriend.” Your voice quivers but you scream nonetheless.

“Y/N! Quit being dramatic and lower your voice. We are not at home.” Jungkook hisses, teeth gritting, eyes narrowing.

“Home? You mean the apartment you left because your agency said it’s risky to share a space with your girlfriend of three years? The same place you refused to meet at because paparazzi are keeping tabs on you as you are rumored to be dating someone else?” you reply with the same ferocity.

Jungkook closes his eyes and rubs his face with both of his palms. Taking a sharp inhale, he says, “Can you please tell me why we are here? I don’t think you called me all the way here just so we can fight?”

You roll your eyes, less in sarcasm, more in an attempt to make your tears disappear.

You sit straight as if being prepared for the sword that is going to pierce through your heart, “Jungkook, do you.. do you love me?”

Jungkook visibly stiffens. His eyes go wide as if someone has asked him to jump off of the building. You see him collecting himself and clearing his throat only to lie, “O-Of course I do. But suddenly why?”

Even though you want to believe his words, you know those are as hollow as his eyes and maybe his heart as well.

“Then..” you pause, reaching for your purse. Pulling out the pitch black velvet box, you look at him. Jungkook’s eyes are wide again, filled with horror and confusion. He probably knows what you are doing and he does not seem to be the least bit happy.

You stand up from your seat and round the table to reach Jungkook, “don’t you think it’s the high time we get engaged? It’s been three years since we started dating, our families approve of each other and” you pause, being unsure of whether you should say it, “and we have always wanted a future together.” You open the box for him to see, a tight-lipped smile lingers on your face only to punctuate your proposal.

Jungkook looks up at you with his big, doe, mystical eyes and then looks down on the ring you have spent a fortune on. Your heart hammers in your chest, but it is not the flattering kind. Your heart races in a fear that you are not ready to face yet.

Jungkook’s face falls and he looks away from you. He plays with his fingers and avoids any kind of eye contact with you. You stand there like a doll made of steel, staring at him holding the ring.

“Y/N. This is not- I can’t. I mean, this is so sudden. I am at the peak of my career and I can’t think of getting engaged or married at this point of life.” he runs a hand though his dark hair out of frustration, “Why are you rushing everything like this?” Jungkook’s eyes are still trained on the table, not on you.

“Because I am afraid, Jungkook. I am afraid you might leave me behind if I don’t try to hold onto you now.” you finally let your tears fall. Uncontrollable sobs leave your mouth.

Jungkook whips his head towards you and then stands up slowly. He holds you by your arms and opens his mouth to say something, “Y/N. I-”

“But I guess it’s too late now. You were long gone. You were gone far before the day you were seen with her. I should have understood Jungkook. I should have…” you run out of breath but still continue, “now please answer me honestly, you love her. Don’t you?”

Jungkook starts avoiding your eyes again. His grip on your arms loosens and you somehow know the answer already.

“I never cheated on you, Y/N. I never lied to you.” He offers with eyes shut tightly.

“But you never told me the full truth either.” your voice comes out weak.

Jungkook remains silent for a while and then he continues with a frail voice, “That night. I mean, the photo that went viral, I was sending her back to her hotel. She flew all the way to the States to confess to me.” This is a new revelation to you, since you never really demanded any explanation from him. Honestly, you didn’t have the guts to face the truth. Rather you decided to try one last time. And that is what brings you here, defeated and rejected with a truck load of pain burdening you down.

“And? What did you say?” you press on, being determined to end your suffering today even if it means you will have to return home with a broken relationship and a broken heart.

“Nothing.” Jungkook gulps.

“You could not say no because you feel the same and you could not say yes because you still had me, is that right?” You know you awfully sound like you are in a session with one of your patients but you don’t care. You need to get to the root of this unbearable pain and cut it off for once and for all.

Jungkook nods. Even though his eyes are hidden from yours, you know, those are full of guilt and shame but not a single speck of love and affection for you.

You close your eyes, let the tears fall unbound, shut the box tight and take two steps back from your soon-to-be ex-boyfriend.

“I know this is a stupid question but I- I’m just confirming” another sob leaves your mouth unintentionally, “do you want to break up? With me?”

Jungkook pinches the bridge of his nose. He is probably finding a way to say yes without having to hurt you more than you can bear.

“Y/N..” he murmurs. This is most likely the last time you are hearing him call you by your name.

“Jungkook, please, just yes or no.” You take another step away from him.

“Yes.” Jungkook breathes out. His eyes are still shut tight.

Even though you knew what his answer would be, it still hurts much more than it did in your imagination.

You feel as if your head is underwater, you can’t breathe, can’t fight, can’t scream. You need to be saved but the person you want to reach out to is the same person who pushed you into this unfathomable water.

Your vision gets blurry with tears again, you can’t see Jungkook anymore. And you guess it’s better that way.

“Okay. That's all I think. That’s all for our three years of history. I hope you lead a happier life from now on. Goodbye….. Jungkook.” and with that you left without waiting for him to say anything. You left him and a part of yourself with him.

You are again sitting at your dining table, holding your phone tightly in your hand. You are again re-reading a headline just like you did a month and two days ago. You are again trying not to cry but you are failing miserably.

“Calvin Kline fame Jeon Jungkook confirms the rumors by kissing rumored girlfriend actress Han Jiwon at a club downtown - The agency is yet to provide a statement.”

It's cruel, how you have to wake up exactly at 7 in the morning despite crying for the better part of the night.

It's even more cruel, how your vacation application (which you have been pursuing for more than a week now) was declined harshly because there's a "priority client" and you, arguably the most competent child psychologist of the clinic, have to take over the case.

You reach for your phone and turn off the alarm.

Opening your eyes, you stare at the ceiling blankly. It's been two weeks since you last saw Jungkook at the restaurant. It's been two weeks since your relationship came to an end. And it's been four months since you are sleeping on your own but you still crave for his warmth beside you.

Love can be a funny thing. At one moment it's fulfilling you, injecting your heart with a sickening sweetness and at another one it's ripping off your urge to continue living, it's stuffing you with insecurity and self doubts that you hardly knew the existence of.

You wonder what Jungkook is doing now. Is he sleeping by himself or is he waking up beside Jiwon? Is he kissing her shoulders softly like he used to do to you or is he hovering above her, spreading her legs and inserting his large shaft inside.

Your thoughts are shaken off with the vibrating sound of your phone.

It's Miseon. The receptionist of The Mindscope ( the clinic you work for) and probably the only person you can call a friend in this entire world.

"Morning." You greet.

"Hey. Heard that your application was declined?" Miseon chrips from the other side of the line.

"Yeah. For some priority clients. Kim asshole Namjoon will be deep-fried in burning oil in a giant ass frying pan in hell." You grumble.

"So you are coming back to work today I guess."

"Yes I have to."

"Will you be okay tho?" You can hear concern in your friend's voice. She's the only person apart from your family to know about your and Jungkook's relationship. So, she called you immediately after seeing the tabloids twelve days ago. You cried on her shoulder when she visited you.

"Yeah. I guess. I have to start doing the actual work anyway. My eyes are in pain for the prolonged hours I spent staring at Microsoft Word for these two weeks. Ugh. Now I hate documentation even more."

Miseon chuckles, “Okay, see you at the clinic then.”

“Yeah. see you.”

You drag yourself out of the bed and head towards the washroom. If this is a new start, then you better accept it.

As soon as the warm soothing water touches your body, memories come rushing back, flooding your mind with despair in the process.

“Jungkook… I’m gonna get late” you whine, head tilting back with pleasure.

Jungkook’s hand snakes around your waist, fingers reach for your sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Five minutes won’t hurt, baby.” he whispers in your ear as his index and middle finger draw slow circles on your wet clit.

His other hand teases one of your wet nipples, twisting and tugging it as harshly as he wants.

A pool of slick gushes out of your hole making jungkook groan at the feeling. He dips his middle finger in your hole and collects some of your wetness, he then uses that to rub more smooth circles on your clit.

You choke on thin air, moaning his name again and again you start to roll your hip on his naked cock.

His giant cock fits perfectly along your ass crack, as if it was made to fit inside you.

You roll your hips harder to elicit a reaction from your boyfriend.

“Such a dirty girl, huh? All for me.” Jungkook’s husky voice pierce through your sober mind and you find yourself dazed with love and pleasure.

Jungkook increases the pace of his fingers and you get more and more wet each passing second.

“Kook.. I- I need you.” you manage to breathe out.

“Don’t be vague, Y/N. Tell me what you exactly need.” Jungkook replies smugly.

“I need your giant cock to ruin my pussy, daddy.” you reply, squeezing the tit that has been deprived of your boyfriend’s attention.

“Whatever my baby says.” and with that jungkook slips inside you in one go. You barely get any chance to adjust because he starts moving right away.

He fucks you slow. His fingers never stop teasing your clit and soon you two reach your climax. He fills you with his cum and you coat his cock with yours.

“Let’s get cleaned now, hm?” Jungkook places a kiss on your shoulder as he turns on the shower.

Your back slides down the shower wall. You shake violently as loud sobs leave your throat one after another.

“You are so cruel, Jungkook. You are so fucking cruel.” you scream. Your throat hurts but your heart hurts even more.

You should have read the signs. When he kept on talking about Jiwon, aka his new friend from the agency, you should have perceived that shine in his eyes.

You should have confronted him more when he said he would have a drink with her after his shoot.

You should have asked his whereabouts when he ignored your calls and texts because he visited her in one of her drama sets.

You should have done a lot of things but most importantly, you should have loved him a little less and loved yourself a little more.

Counselee Information: - Name: Jung Sua Age: 7 (seven) Gender: Female (F) Guardian: Jung Hoseok Relationship with the guardian: Father of the counselee Reasons behind seeking help: 1. Changes in behavior 2. Quieter and more reserved than before 3. Frequent nightmares 4. Mild panic attacks

“So, what do you think?” Namjoon questions, leaning on the plush chair, placed at the end of your table.

“Nothing complicated. You could have handled it yourself. There was absolutely no need of rejecting my vacation applications again and again.” you spat, being very unimpressed with the dimpled smirk on your boss’ face.

“Oh my god. What’s wrong?” he dramatically leans forward. Placing a hand on his chest, Namjoon continues, “I thought you will be in a better mood after two weeks of work from home. But you seem even more annoyed than before.”

“For your information, I asked for a damn holiday not work from home aka prolonged hours of documentation. I really need some time off, Namjoon. I am not kidding.” Your voice sounds so defeated that Namjoon has to sit straight.

A serious expression takes over his features as he replies, “I know, Y/N. You are definitely not the type to take leaves for fun. But I am helpless here. The client has asked for you personally. He has done his own research and concluded that you can help his daughter better than everyone else in this clinic. I could not do anything.”

You nod understanding his point of view.

You are always more than ready to help these little, innocent souls out. It pains you to see these babies experiencing something as horrific as panic attacks.

But this time you need therapy more than anyone else under your radar. Even though your exterior doesn’t show the unbearable pain your interior is going through, you still need some solace. You are really unwilling to work at this moment and you doubt if you can help anyone else when you are not mentally fit yourself.

But you hardly have a choice. And maybe, just maybe, you will get a chance of distracting yourself from Jungkook's thoughts. Maybe you will be able to take a breather. Maybe you will heal in the process. Maybe?

“The appointment is at 11 am, right?” You ask the man sitting right in front of you.

“Yes,” he answers.

“It’s 10:49 already. Get out and let me prepare myself.” you mutter, closing your eyes and leaning back on your chair.

“Okay okay. Don’t be so aggressive.” Namjoon chuckles before leaving you alone in the cabin.

You go through Jung Sua's records once more to verify if there's a health condition you should be aware of. But there isn't anything.

Just when you close the file, a knock rings on the cabin door.

You sit straight. Ready to welcome a new friend.

Yuna, your assistant, knocks once more before pushing the door slowly. She walks in first and then holds the door open for the guests.

And the cutest seven years old, you have ever seen, walks inside. She's so small that she can be easily mistaken for a five year old. Her chubby cheeks and immaculately done pigtails makes her look like a doll.

You almost coo at the sight.

Even though you mostly work with kids, for the past year you were working with only teenagers. It's been long since you had the pleasure to serve yourself for a kid less than ten years old, let alone a seven year one.

"Hello there, Miss Sua. How are you doing?" You say in a jovial voice, trudging towards the baby.

Sua tenses a bit and looks behind her, looking for shelter from her father. He stands right behind Sua, offering her to hold one of his hands. Sua takes that readily.

You come forward and sit on your knees to maintain an eye level with your new friend.

"Don't worry. I'm your new friend. My name is Y/N." You offer her your hand. She hesitates a bit and then looks at her father for confirmation.

You follow her cue and tilt your head up to take a look at the father of your counselee.

Only if you weren't the embodiment of damsel of distress these days, you could very well have a love at first sight.

The man flaunts a pair of incredibly beautiful yet intimidating eyes, a chiseled jaw that can cut you into pieces, perfectly styled dark hair that falls on his face, and a pair of heart shaped lips which enhances the overall beauty of his face. The fitted dress pants and the black dress shirt give hints of the lithe, well-structured body that lies inside.

He smiles at you, you do the same. And then you feel a softer, smaller hand wrapping up your fingertips lightly.

Her cuteness makes you giggle.

You stand up, taking her hand on yours, you start walking towards a cozier corner of your cabin, where you usually counsel kids. Her father follows you closely behind.

There's a small and round glass table along with three chairs. One is meant for you and two others are meant for the counselees and their guardians.

You turn towards Sua’s father. Smiling a little and you say “You need to take the seat first, so that she can be assured it is safe here.”

“Sure” he replies. His voice is smooth and light, a contrast to his dark and manly features.

He sits down on the bigger chair and pats on the smaller one, “come on Sua, com ‘ere.”

Sua leaves your hand and wiggles towards her dad. She easily plops down on her seat.

“Yuna, can you prepare the game room please?” You ask your assistant.

“Sure, Y/N” She says before closing the door as you get comfortable in your own chair.

Sua regards you with her big, round doe eyes. She looks at you so intensely as if you have grown two horns in your head.

You chuckle a bit, “Sua, don’t you like your new friend? Don’t you like me?”

Sua stays silent.

“Sua is very friendly. I am sure she will like Y/N very soon. Isn’t it, baby?” Sua’s father chimes in, squeezing one of her little hands with his bigger, rougher ones.

You are so accustomed to your patients and their guardians to address you as “doctor”, that you had to take a moment after your name rolled out of Mr. Jung’s mouth.

The change is welcomed anyway.

You divert your eyes from Sua to him, only to find him smiling at you warmly. You mirror his smile. His smile is so damn gorgeous that you can’t help but feel contaminated with it.

“Sua, what do you like to play the most?” you focus on Sua again.

“Mario kart” she replies briefly, staring down at her feet.

“Okay. That's a great game. But what would you like to play outside? For example with your classmates during lunchtime?” You place your next question.

“My classmates don’t play with me.” She was quick with her answer.

Your smile drops instantly and you already start mapping out all the possible sources of the issues she is facing.

Nodding to yourself in understanding, you proceed, “Okay, let’s not talk about games anymore. You tell me what you like more, oranges or mangoes?”

“Mangoes.” she replies.

“Okay” standing up from your seat, you walk towards your table and call Yuna. She comes within a few seconds.

You instruct her to take Sua to the game room and treat her to some delicious mango juice. Even though Sua hesitates for a bit, her father’s encouragement works really well.

As soon as Sua leaves the room, you find yourself quite nervous under the intimidating gaze of Mr. Jung.

This setting is nothing new. You have been into one-on-one conversations with your counselees’ parents for more times than you can count. But none of them were as young and attractive as Mr. Jung.

You inhale a long breath before continuing, “so, Mr. Jung, since when did you start noticing these changes in Sua?”

“Almost a month ago. I can’t pinpoint an exact date but she has gradually become very quiet over this last month. She used to be very chatty. She used to tell me every little thing in detail about her day, her friends, what she had for lunch, what colors she used in drawings and so on. Now-a-days her answers have become vague and insignificant.” Mr. Jung sighs.

“Hmm. and the nightmares?” you ask, scribbling on the ipad.

“Around the same time. She woke up at 2 in the morning, ran to my room crying and breathing heavily. She didn’t tell me what it was about but kept on saying she was afraid. The same thing happened two more times.” He completes.

“Umm. The next question might be a little personal but the information is required for future counsellings. I ask for your understanding.” you sit straight. He nods.

“You said she came running to you when she had nightmares. Hence, I assume you were alone in the room. What about Sua’s mother?”

“I am a single dad, Doctor. Sua’s mother and I were in a casual relationship when she conceived with Sua unexpectedly. Both of us were just starting our careers so it was tough for us to think of getting married. On the top of that we didn’t like each other enough to proceed with that option. So, we decided to co-parent. But…” he pauses, takes in a long breath and then continues, “she disappeared after giving birth. She left a note behind as an apology, saying that she is not ready to be a mother, asking me not to contact her anymore. My mother and sister helped me in raising Sua so beautifully. They are the only ones to become something close to a mother figure for her. That’s all.”

You feel something warm flooding in your chest. You don’t know what it is, it can be respect, can be sympathy, can be even admiration for this man who you don’t even know properly.

A genuine smile takes over your face as you mutter, “You have done a great job Mr. Jung. You have raised a beautiful daughter all by yourself. You have worked hard.”

Mr, Jung’s dark eyes flood with some emotions you can’t quite name. He stares at you intensely, so much so that you feel he is reading you inside out. You can’t help but stare back at him.

“Call me Hoseok. So that I can call you by your name too. Is that okay, Y/N?” his voice is deeper than earlier, his smile is lopsided, more like a smirk.

You find yourself easily smiling along with him, something that has been quite tough for you to do for the past few months.

“Sure. Hoseok.” Your reply comes out without any further thought.

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