#off to hang out with chloe today

[jasper-crow]

When you are just trying to have breakfast and your wife keeps taking candids and making you laugh.

And then the best fucking picture you get is making a dorky face eating a cookie

Still loving the necklace I bought though, and the belt really ties it all together like I'd hoped.

[bee-wg]

Year 4:

Beep Beep Beep Beep

“Oh my god, uncle! You’re gonna burn the house down!” Theo yelled.

“David, What happened? Is your hand bleeding?” Mom screamed

“Ahahaha, it’s nothing Chloe, don’t worry about it. I was just trying to make everyone a surprise breakfast,” Dad said.

“It’s nothing? There’s fire on the stove!” Mom said frantically.

“I got the fire extinguisher, don’t worry. Just a little mishap,” Dad said, trying to cheer them up.

“Uncle, you’re bleeding all over the fire extinguisher! We need to get him to the hospital,” Theo said.

“Hahaha, I guess I am a little clumsy,” Dad said.

Beep Beep Beep

“Someone please turn off the fire alarm, it’s stressing me out,” Mom asked

“What’s happening?” I asked, half asleep in my Pajamas.

Sometimes life surprises you, one moment, you were having a sweet dream. Then, you’re driving your bleeding father to the hospital in Pajamas. The new SUV does feel nice to drive, at least.

“I’m fine, guys. I think it must be the sugar. If I would’ve put more in it, this wouldn’t have happened,” Dad said.

“David, I love you, but don’t you EVER pull stupid stunts like that again,” Mom said, leaning on Dad’s shoulder.

Apparently, Dad wanted to surprise us with waffles for breakfast and thank Mom for all the delicious food she made. He was also hungry for a snack, so he broke Mom's one rule: Don’t mess with her kitchen.

The doctor said he could remove the cast in two months, about the time Theo and I graduate. He already got an internship in a restaurant, bringing home some fancy leftovers. 

Mom has not let off her sight from Dad since we got back. She gave him a firm warning and pinched his cheek. Now Dad gets ice cream and meals delivered to his mouth without lifting a finger.

I wish someone would do that for me. Imagine not having to leave the bed and constantly having sweets in your mouth. That would be a dream.

My thoughts disturb me sometimes. 

Since winning the competition, I have accepted that I will never be muscular again. The original plan was to savour everything I could for a year, then go on a diet. Mom and Theo have slowed down with the food so that I won’t eat until my stomach is about to burst, but they won’t refuse if I ask for something.

Now I am close to 500 pounds with my stomach always growling for more. I guess it’s just another fat ass behaviour I would have to accept.

Since losing weight is out of the question, I have figured out a way to keep my core muscle fit enough to support the enormous belly in front of me. It’s simple, I stick an 8-inch dildo from Seven’s house to my chair, and I would sit on it when I’m playing video games or watching a movie. When the itch gets too much, I can use my core muscles to lift myself up and down. This way, I get to work out and get off. It's not good for the chair, but who cares? It’s reinforced.

***

It was a regular lunchtime when Brad broke into my house again. Usually, he would greet my parents and head straight upstairs to perform witchcraft for all I care, but today, his footsteps are leading to my door.

Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. Brad is the kind of asshole that does not knock. I still have the dildo in me!

I panicked and pulled up my pants before getting off the dildo.

He came in right as I flopped my belly down to cover the fact that my pants were not fully pulled up.

“Sup,” I said.

“Sup, Jay,” he reached out his fist for a bump.

“So, you know our last season of football in college just ended,” he said. 

Brad walked to my left to sit on my bed.

I rotate my seat to face him so he doesn’t see my ass hanging out in the back.

“Oh, fuck!” I yelped.

Fuck, the dildo twisted in the movement, now poking my prostate. 

“You okay, dude?” Brad asked.

“Of course, continue,” I said with the best smile I could muster.

“The guys are celebrating, so it’s like the last party for the team, and I was wondering if,”

“Okay, yeah, I’ll go,” I said quickly.

“Oh, that’s it? You usually don't like to go out or like- move at all,” he said, then stood up.

His sudden movement startled me, and the dildo jerked deeper.

“Are you sure you’re okay, dude?” Brad said, walking closer.

“I’m all good bruh, don’t worry,” I said.

I can feel my hole tensing, almost swallowing the dildo whole.

“I just don’t want you to be angry at me for fucking your cousin. If you want me to stop, I will,” he said.

“You what the who?” I said, baffled.

“I’m fucking,”

“Ew no, don’t tell me. I’m fine as long as you never mention doing that with my cousin ever again,” I said.

He let out a breath.

“Well, that’s something out of my chest. I’m going up now. I’ll come here and pick you up tomorrow night,” Brad said, rushing out the door.

I let out a breath too.

The locks will never be open after this traumatic experience.

My ass is still tingling, so I quickly fuck myself with the dildo to get over with it.

***

The drive to the house has been excruciatingly slow because Brad is a cautious driver. It leaves a lot of time to think without food distracting me.

I am now extremely aware of the bright yellow Pikachu face stretching across my belly. There aren't many clothes that fit me, and it’s been a while since I went out, so I didn’t bother buying new shirts. 

I haven’t seen them in a while. They’re gonna think I’m fucking lame.

“Dude, snap out of it. Everyone there misses you. I didn’t invite the assholes,” Brad said.

“…I guess.” 

“You’re doing the arm-scratching thing again, haven’t seen you doing that in a while,” Brad said.

“I’m going to put on some music, and you’re going to stop thinking, okay?” Brad added.

“Yeah, okay,” I replied.

When we opened the door, Marcus the quarterback greeted us, and half my worries melted away. 

He is about 300 pounds, which feels skinny to me now. At least I’m not the only fat one.

Now that I look into it, not everyone has defined abs. I don’t know why I expected everyone to be runway models. Even Brad is softer around the middle.

“Dude! Where have you been?” Aiden yelled.

“Oh shit, you look humongous, my guy,” Braxton said.

We quickly got back into the groove we had two summers ago.

Brad booted up a party game, and we tried our hardest to destroy each other.

We also caught up on what each of us was up to this past year, or what to do with our future. Aiden wants to marry his girlfriend, Marcus wants to join his boyfriend’s band, and Brad wants to be a freelance artist alongside his side job.

When the night came, They ordered some Chicken wings and pizzas.

“Fuck yeah, trash food! No more diet from Coach,” Aiden said, taking away half the pizza.

“By the way, I bought extra pizzas to see how much we can push ourselves,” Brad said.

I have a bad feeling about this.

“Of course, if it’s too much, we can always count on Jay,” Brad laughed.

There are six of us, with twenty large pizzas. I am screwed.

“It’s just some pizzas, no big deal. I can beat Jay easily,” Braxton, the most muscular guy in the group, said.

“Hahaha, don’t underestimate him, my dude,” Brad replied.

Except for Marcus, all of them are wimps. They started groaning and bitching after a few slices.

“Damn it, how do you make it look so easy,” Aiden asked.

“There’s a technique to it, dumb ass. I trained for this shit,” I answered.

Aiden then passed out from the food coma after six slices. 

Two more people soon followed after him.

Brad is on his way to his second pizza. His stomach has never looked this bloated before. Marcus is trying his hardest on his fourth one, but the guy is barely hanging on.

When the seventh pizza box emptied, I was stuffed beyond belief.

The guys woke up and refocused their energy on me to finish the rest.

“There’s only two left, people. Finish it,” I said, pointing at the boxes.

“We’re not on your level, Jay. You’re like, a pro at this,” Aiden said.

“Yeah, man. Only you can do it,” Brad said.

Braxton handed the pizza box over, and they started feeding me slice by slice.

“Come on Jay, you’re better than this,” Aiden said and rubbed my belly.

These people have no personal boundaries like always.

I am beyond capacity after the eighth one.

This was most likely a fucked up plan by Brad to show they don’t care I’m a fat ass. I still believed they wouldn’t like me because of my size until a few hours ago, now it seems ridiculous to reject all those party invites last year. Well, maybe I was up to something because now they’re trying to suffocate me with pizzas.

When Aiden stuffed the last of the slices in my mouth, everyone cheered.

Tonight was absurd, but I got my friends back. When some guys were not happy for a fat guy to be on the team, they stopped hanging out with me. I thought I was a lost cause.

“Dude, you better come back next time,” Aiden said.

“I’m gonna beat you next time, Jay. Watch it,” Braxton said.

“Awesome to have you back, man,” Marcus said.

It reminds me of that summer when we hung out by the river every time the fast food party room got too suffocating, when my worries were carried away by the water. 

“Thanks, Brad. For doing this,” I told him once we got in the car.

“No problem, I’m always here,” he answered.

I must have gotten too sentimental, or pizzas are clogging my brain, but I opened my Instagram and tabbed Recent in the search bar.

It seems like he made some new decorations for the coffee shop. 

I scrolled down to see the picture of the beach.

“Stop scrolling like a creep, Jay. Just call him,” he said.

“What?” I asked.

“He’s still waiting for that coffee,” Brad said.

“You still talk to Ave?” I asked.

“This is fucking depressing to watch, Jay. You guys were best friends,” he said.

“You know, I was kinda jealous of you guys back in the day. I was the skinny guy who got bullied on the side, and you were the guy on the team who still takes the time of day to befriend me. I only had you, and you also had him. It’s frustrating seeing you throw that away,” he finishes.

He doesn’t understand though. I’m a hypocrite who ignored Ave when he got fat. I don’t deserve his attention.

***

It’s been two weeks since our graduations and Dad getting his cast off. Mom has been working full-time, trying to figure out what we could do as a family to celebrate. It’s proven to be difficult when there are two 500-pound whales in said family. We can’t fit into any amusement park ride, and we’ll sink into the bottom of the ocean if we go to the beach. So, the rational thing to do is a picnic. At least that’s what I suggested. But Mom insisted a camping trip was the best family bonding option. For two whales.

It’s fine, I thought to myself. We have done this plenty of times.

After stuffing Dad in the front seat and the emergency food boxes in the back of the SUV. Mom explained the bags of medicines she bought like a flight attendant with the safety instructions. She must have been traumatized by Dad’s injury. He’s not allowed to do anything remotely dangerous, like moving his hand to eat. Hence, the army medical packs.

Mom went through the bottles of fox spray, bear spray, mosquito spray, sun spray and pepper spray, and then we finally got moving.

On our way there, we had some intermissions at the gas stations to replenish snacks. Theo whined it, but this was all his fault anyway.  If only he hadn’t grown our monstrous appetite, and forced musical soundtracks to be played in the car for hours, I might have skipped over a few snack breaks.

Recently, my weight has stabilized at about 520 pounds. Thank God my exercises on the chair worked; otherwise, I’m going to blow up on my way to the camp. 

“Guys, Brad said safe trip, and he’ll miss us,” Theo said.

“He probably only meant you,” I replied.

Theo has been giggling for an hour straight, looking at his phone.

“I’ll miss you, Bradley. The signal’s breaking off. See you soon!” Theo said.

We set up the camp in a few hours. By the time we were done, the sun had already set, giving the mountain an orange hue. 

Today we’re going up to Sunshore Lake. It’s going to be a steep walk, but I’m ready to flex my athletic prowess.

It was not a good sign that I was already sweating before arriving at the entrance.

“David, this is a bit steeper than I remembered. Do you guys want to stay down here?” Mom said.

“Nah. Jay and I will do it. This is a piece of cake compared to what we used to do. Right, son?” Despite not having to walk for more than a year, Dad remains confident.

“Hell yeah, Dad. Let’s show them what we're made of!” I said.

I give up. We’re a third of the way through, and I can feel my belly weighing me down.

“Come on -huff, son, you -huff-can do it!” Dad said, looking worse than I do.

Theo looked at us and chuckled.

“Guys, I’m so sorry! I should’ve known this was too much,” Mom said, panicking.

“It’s- it’s all good, Chloe. Remember you married the- huff- Star athlete back in college?” Dad smiled at Mom and gave her a thumbs up.

“Need a hand?” Theo asked me.

“Isn’t that too much?” I motioned to our luggage on his back.

“Oh, that’s nothing,” he swung my arm behind his shoulder and carried me.

He’s been doing that more often than not when I couldn’t get up. Probably the reason he got all those muscles under his shirt. What happened to the noodle arm ginger?

“Thanks, man. I guess I don’t have to roll back down there,” I said.

When we were halfway through, Dad told us solemnly.

“I- I don’t think I can make it.”

“Noooo, David I’m sorry! I didn’t mean for things to end this way,” Mom said with tears in her eyes.

“I love you guys. You’re the light of my life. I am honour to be a husband, a father, and a-” 

“Dad, you’re not dying. We’re almost there,” I said.

“Is it too late to call an emergency helicopter?” Mom asked.

“David, I love you, but I really don’t want to touch you right now. Can you pull through yourself, baby?” Mom said, looking at the sweat ball that was Dad.

Theo burst out laughing, and I couldn’t help but join too, even if I was in an equally dire situation.

When we got to the top, everyone was exhausted. 

We cleaned ourselves up with towels, and Mom went to check the Kayaking information. 

Dad and I were too big for it, as expected, so we went to find a good spot for fishing.

“I’m so excited. I have never kayaked before!” Theo said, looking as refreshed as ever.

Before we set up our fishing gear, they eagerly ditched us.

The Lake looked as calm as ever. It's boring with little going on.

Mom and Theo are probably in the middle of the lake now.

Staring at the stale water, I realized Dad was not perfect. He’s a little stubborn, clueless sometimes, but that’s what I like about him. I don’t know if anyone would find my quirks appealing. if Ave would.

I’m just a Lazy food addict who basically lives in his mom’s basement, so maybe not.

“Jay?” Dad said.

“What’s up, Dad?” I asked.

“You think too much, buddy.”

“You were always an overthinker since you were a toddler,” Dad said.

“I remember you told me you wanted to play football instead of hockey because hockey will give you frostbites, and freeze you into those Neanderthals from the museums,” Dad said.

“Oh Gosh,” he still remembers.

“You know what?” Dad said, then quickly took off his shirt.

“Let’s go for a swim,” He said with a smile.

“But the fishing,” I said.

“Don’t worry about the fish,” He said, walking back and charging towards the water.

The cannonball created a massive splash, making me completely wet.

“Mother of God, it’s freezing! Did you see that, Jay?” He said with a laugh.

“Yeah, that was pretty cool,” I chuckled. It’s not every day you see a chunky beast jumping into the water.

“Come on, Jay, take it off and jump!” he said.

I have not taken off my shirt in public since middle school, when I started to notice my flaws. Even in the locker room, I would find a bathroom stall to change.

“Don’t overthink it, Jay! Trust me!” Dad said.

Don’t overthink, I thought.

I took off my shirt and back off. When I pick up the pace, my entire body is wobbling.

With all the strength I have, I jumped.

Shit, this was a bad idea.

The cold water hit me.

First, nothing but white bubbles clouded me. Then, schools of fish surrounding me appeared in my vision, hurrying away from the meteor strike. I moved my legs slightly apart on the lakebed, so I don’t step on the tiny crabs while they take refuge in the kelp forest.

“Holy Fuck, it’s freezing!” I said as I pulled my head out of the water.

“Hahahaha, watch your mouth, Jay. You don’t want to summon your mother here,” Dad said.

The view down there was breathtaking; it was what I expected, but not. The fish looked different from a simple change of scenery. I wouldn't have known if I had never jumped.

“I’m proud of you, Jay. That was a huge splash. Aren’t the views here amazing?” he said.

“Thank you, Dad. I wouldn’t have done it without you,” I said.

“You did it all by yourself, kid,” he replied.

We kept exploring the lake until our stomachs growled in protest.

After setting up the fire, we roasted some fish in the bucket and made S’mores from caramel marshmallows. 

Theo and Mom joined and we talked about the stories we had at school or some embarrassing stories of me Dad has kept.

The next day, we packed up our stuff to leave. The mountain is beautiful and all, but Dad and I are starving for some real food.

On our way down, I realized that I had been the biggest enemy to myself. There are so many supportive people surrounding me when my self-doubt overshadows them.

The signal bars slowly appear one by one. I opened Avery’s profile picture.

If he rejects me, I’ll be embarrassed in front of a person I really care about.

I shouldn’t overthink.

There’s nothing more I can lose when I already lost his company.

So I texted.

“Hey, Ave. I know I’m late, but would you mind if I take you up on your offer for the coffee?”

“...” a text bubble appeared.

“I thought you'd never ask.”

[onlyswan]

summary: in which leaving the past behind is not as easy as forgetting, and you want to be everything jungkook wants to know.

idol!jungkook x f!reader, est. relationship / angst, fluff / wc: 7.9k

playlist: strange by celeste / sinking by clairo / manta rays by chloe moriondo / ceilings by beabadoobee / iris (cover) by phoebe bridgers & maggie rogers

content/warnings: [deep breath] no one will know the violence it took to become this gentle / it’s their first winter as a couple / oc’s ex bf slaps oc / jk beats up the ex / blood and bruises / crying :( / mention of cheating (not in our main’s rs we don’t tolerate that in this household :]) / mention of s*x / jimin as both their older brother and friend :(

in which masterlist!

note: greeting 2024 with angst woopsie… i literally ugly sobbed writing a particular scene T_T… anwww i hope it’s a good read <3 as always reblogs and feedback are appreciated! i’d love to hear your thoughtsss 🥺

—

the word VICTORY flashes across the screen.

with a proud smirk adorning his lips, jungkook pushes down his headphones to hang around his neck.

he rises from his seat, resting his crossed arms over the partition dividing the computer that you’re renting from his.

“hi, baby. are you almost done?”

he chuckles to himself when he realizes that you didn’t hear him, not with the music blasting from your headphones. you direct your attention upwards when endless song by no reply is abruptly put on pause; the cushions of the headphones are pressed up against your cheek by your boyfriend’s doing.

“what?”

“hi, baby. are you almost done?”

“oh, yes…” your focus returns to the screen, fast fingers dancing along the keyboard without an ounce of hesitation weighing on them. “i just… need to… send the file to my email.”

jungkook blinks at the long rows of words you’re masterfully curating, thinking to himself — how the hell do you think and type that fast at the same time?

it was his suggestion to stay at a pc bang tonight so you could be together while you each do your own thing. he spent his half of his day-off playing games, and during that time, you worked on your research paper and finished an essay that isn’t even due for another week. you took a break every hour, munched on some snacks, and cheered him on while he was diligently playing. perhaps he could’ve done something more productive today, but it couldn’t have made him happier.

he holds out the last slice of gimbap in between chopsticks, lightly poking your lips, and his heart flutters when you offer him a sweet smile after welcoming the big bite with some difficulty, cheeks full and nose scrunched.

“is there anything else you want to eat?”

you shake your head, and unable to speak while chewing, you gesture for water as if you’re playing charades.

a kiss is granted to your forehead.

when he comes back with a bottled water, all your tabs have been closed and you’re wearing your white beret again, re-organizing your belongings in your backpack.

“ready to leave?” he inquires as he hands your order.

you hum as a reply, standing from your seat as you swing the backpack over your head to wear it with little to no effort.

jungkook thinks you’re so cool.

you visit the restroom as he settles the bill. when you come out, he’s already pulling out a credit card from his wallet. you decide to head straight for the door then, wait for him outside as the air inside the room has started to feel a little too stuffy after you stepped away from the computer.

you’ve always thought about it— how time stands still when you experience something traumatic, how that moment feels stretched for eternity… how utterly barbaric that is. you’re forced to memorize frames of the origin of your scars, relive it over and over again, eyes closed and open. moments of happiness, on the other hand, are fleeting. they are sand slipping through the gaps of your fingers. getting out of bed is scooping them in your hands and praying that they will hold on to you in the following rotations and revolutions of the earth. they never do.

there he stood at the bottom of the stairs, just as horrified as you.

his face is the last thing you want to see on a winter night.

because you still recall the amalgamation of emotions in his eyes two winters ago. his skin was flushed from the cold, but he turned redder with anger and your stomach coiled in shame.

“juwon?”

the name felt odd in your mouth. it’s like when you eat a food you haven’t had in a long time, and it doesn’t quite taste like you remember it.

and to be honest, you didn’t know what you expected to happen when he carried on to climb the remaining steps that led to you. but it definitely wasn’t… this.

the first hand to carress your bare body, as if it was in disbelief of its existence, and the rings you used to blindly adore— they collide with your cheek with a sound that resonates in your eardrums.

the slap thins out into a ringing noise.

“are you insane?!”

it continues to assault your hearing even as you scream and hit him back.

it ends when someone bumps against your shoulder in a haste, and the next thing you register is juwon lying on the ground with jungkook sitting on top him, balled fist throwing unforgiving punches at your ex-boyfriend’s face. juwon is held hostage by the shock and is unable to reciprocate jungkook’s aggression. he attempts to fight back but your boyfriend dodges easily.

“jungkook! stop, stop, stop!”

you run down the stairs with panic thundering in your chest, nearly in tears as you forcefully grasp at the back of jungkook’s coat to pull him away, but with his strength and the adrenaline flowing through his veins, your efforts prove to be fruitless.

“you fucking bastard! i’m gonna kill you!”

“that’s enough-” you cry out. “please!”

“how dare you lay a hand on my girlfriend like that, huh?!”

he is furious, gripping the collar of juwon’s sweater and slamming him to the ground.

“your girl?” coughing, juwon faces the side to spit out the blood in his mouth, which then shapes into an arrogant smirk. “didn’t you know? ____ was mine first. i was the first!”

the next punch he receives cuts his lower lip open, and a stronger metallic taste assaults his tongue.

“jungkook!”

before jungkook could inflinct more permanent damage, you resort to holding back his arm with both of your hands.

your gazes connect, and your heart drops to your stomach. he is seething with anger. your blood runs cold and a thick haze clouds your thinking. you can’t move your limbs. what do you do? what do you do? what do you do?

“____, let go. i’m not fucking finished with him.”

“please,” you beg, ignorant of the tears that have begun to slide down your cheeks. “that’s enough. look at him!”

“and why should i care?” he spits out as he shrugs you off.

“ah, jungkook! i said that’s enough! why won’t you listen to me?!”

your desperate tantrum falls on deaf ears. you squeeze your eyes shut when he re-assumes his stance, tucks his thumb over his folded fingers, exactly what he taught you about making a proper fist to avoid injuring one’s self when boxing.

“stop it! you’re scaring me!”

that throws a bucket of ice over jungkook’s head. the anger in his eyes is replaced by vacancy, and with that, juwon seizes the opportunity to finally strike him with a jab and escape from underneath him. jungkook finds himself pushed aside on the ground with a throbbing cheek, mostly likely to be noticeably bruised in the next hours.

“love-” you gasp, and you rush over to him but your path gets rudely obstructed by your ex.

“is this the guy you cheated on me with?”

he is extremely near that you can feel him panting on your face. two years later, your stomach coils in disgust. your glare is venomous, and if only looks could kill, if only looks could kill…

“just leave, won’t you? what’s the point of all this?” you roughly push him away with your remaining shred of energy, driven by exhaustion and frustration. “it was so long ago! get a fucking grip!”

he huffs in disbelief as he wipes the blood from the corner of his mouth. it also drips from his nose and eyebrow. strange enough, you do not feel guilt nor compassion for this man. not anymore.

“are you seriously crying just because he got punched one time…? isn’t that a little unfair? you loved me too. once.” he snickers, but he is visibly pissed off. he can no longer look at you in the eye. “shit, is he that much of a better fuck than me?”

your skin crawls. bile creeps up your throat. technically speaking, this is the consequence of your own actions, but you can’t help but to be resentful.

“you are…” your voice trembles, but your glare remains unwavering. “still as despicable and shallow as ever… and i don’t regret what i did.”

and it may have been a long time ago, but you still know how to hit him where it hurts the most— his ego.

you purposely bump against his shoulder as you make your way to jungkook, leaving him speechless as he stares at the ground. the night the two of you broke up, you were crying and begging him for forgiveness… what the fuck happened?

“let’s go home.” you demand quietly while refusing to meet jungkook’s stare— a mix of confusion, offense, and rage.

but the thing about juwon? he always needs to have the last word.

“you better keep a close eye. you might think you know ____, but whores never change. especially those who became one so young.”

“dude, how are you still speaking?!”

it’s too late when you realize that jungkook has left your side. he swings at juwon’s face with a force that sends the man stumbling backwards. he completely loses balance then collapses on the ground with a curse that almost misses your ears.

“don’t ever go near ____ again! don’t even think of it! if you show your face to me again, i might really end up fucking killing you. you hear me?!”

—

jungkook doesn’t recall a time when he felt a rage this intense and consuming. witnessing you get slapped, his vision went dark and he was shaking with fury. everything was a blur after that, but he knew one thing: this man violated the most precious person to him, and he won’t allow him to get away with that unscathed.

and that must be why he feels restless until now. neither one of you has dared to utter a word for the past couple of minutes. he can’t see your face as you’re walking ahead of him, leading the way with his wrist in your cold hand. however, he can hear your sniffles, and he can see you wiping your tears dry with the back of your hand. he thought he has experienced heartbreak, but this pain cuts deeper than anything he has ever felt.

“baby, let’s go back.”

he breaks the silence, standing infront of you to stop you on your tracks. he almost reeks of desperation as he intertwines your fingers together.

“please? there should be a cctv camera infront. we can sue him.”

“are you even hearing yourself? you’ll also get into trouble!”

his insistence only fuels the urge to cry and scream and break things. it’s an understatement to say that you’re ashamed. it was foolish of you, really, to assume that leaving the past behind would be as easy as forgetting. it may be out of sight but it is everywhere, and it sneaks up on you without tell and mercy.

“you attacked him out of nowhere! he can sue you for that too!”

“out of nowhere?” he repeats your words slowly, hurt flashing across his face. “i was protecting you, ____! who knows what else he could’ve done? and the shit he was talking about you? was i just supposed to stand there and do nothing?”

“and i’m protecting you too! why did you even have to punch him again?! he was obviously just trying to provoke you! god, i-” you release the air in your lungs you didn’t realize you’ve been holding. “thank god he didn’t see your face.”

that struck a nerve for some reason. he harshly rips off the mask that has been concealing half of his face all along.

“he hit you! look- fuck, you’re bleeding-”

oh, his rings must’ve grazed you.

jungkook brings out a clean white handkerchief from the backpocket of his pants, pressing it softly against your cheek. the sharp sting forces you to grit your teeth. it’s not only the wound… your skin is still warm and tender from the assault. you’re terrified to look at the mirror. you don’t want to feel sorry for yourself.

“and that’s what you’re really worried about right now?”

“okay, then i’m sorry for caring about my boyfriend and his career! i’m sorry, okay?!“

he dies a little inside when you harshly push his hand aside.

so this is what it feels like to be at the other end of your anger… shitty. it feels really shitty. after what happened, there is no sadness or fear. the twinkle in your eyes have been replaced with sharp daggers and it is gutwrenching to watch. it clicks for him then: you weren’t scared of him. you were scared for him.

he doesn’t allow you to go further than ten feet away. he seizes your arm before sneaking his hand on your waist to tug you closer to his body.

“you think i’m letting you out of my sight again? it’s not happening!”

you click your tongue in exasperation, left with no choice but to admit defeat as he hails the approaching taxi. you cover your face to hide from the blinding headlights.

ever the gentleman, jungkook opens the door for you.

“get in, ____.”

and the first thought that enters your mind: the air freshener is nauseating. it has to be something mixed with lemon.

you roll the window down as your boyfriend dictates the address of your destination to the taxi driver. not yours, but his. you send him an unimpressed scowl, but he only looks back at you challengingly under the warm dim light. the soft cloth is placed over your wound again, rudely snatched as you turn away from him. you hold it on your own as you watch the world outside the window, streetlamps with blurry light streaks and homes you will never set foot into. in the midst of your musing, you register the weight on your head, or its lack thereof. your beret landed on the ground in the aftermath of the first strike. what is there left to lose?

you thought you could be happy at last, but beside you is another soul you’ve stained with your bloody hands.

juwon was right, you never change.

—

“i still don’t think it’s right that i know the password.” you whisper as you push the door open.

“but i have a key to your house. what’s the difference?”

“i don’t know…” you begin removing your boots, carefully placing each one in the middle level of the shoe rack. “you live with six other people.”

“namjoon-hyung and yoongi-hyung are in their studios. the others went home.”

you enter the living room with jungkook hugging you from behind. his cheek rests on top of your shoulder, and he doesn’t want to let you go. the ride here was suffocating. he thought you wouldn’t talk to him for the rest of the night anymore.

you blink at jimin who is sprawled out on the sofa, a gray blanket that matches his sweatpants is covering his naked torso.

“why does he sleep here? doesn’t he have a bed?”

“the sofa is more comfortable.” he mumbles loud enough for you to hear as he opens his eyes halfway, but then he gives up and closes them again, curling in on himself to resume his slumber.

“okay… now i know what to get you for your birthday.”

for a brief second jungkook assumes that you’re joking, but you sounded way too nonchalant.

“a sofa?”

“a new mattress,” you blankly stare back at him, before proceeding to break free from his embrace to search for the bathroom.

he follows you like a lost puppy, whining. “why does he already have a birthday gift and i don’t?!”

“quiet!”

he winces. “sorry, hyung!”

—

you’re perched in the space between jungkook’s thighs, legs swung over one of them as he tenderly presses a cold compress against your left cheek. you’ve changed into the pair of pink cooky pajamas he wore a few times and has kept in his closet specially for you. sinking into his mattress, drowsiness has also begun to seep into the depths of your bones. it’s been an arduous week, and you’re exhausted of fighting in every sense of the word.

“he deserves more than what he got away with.” he mutters through gritted teeth.

“jungkook, enough.” you chide at him with a sigh. “let’s just forget about this.”

“your face is going to be bruised for atleast a week! how am i supposed to ‘just forget’? are you hearing yourself?”

your rhetoric question from earlier comes back to gnaw at your thread-like sanity. you feel backed into a corner. you can’t think of a solution that will put this issue at rest, much less make either one of you feel better.

“he’s not worth it.”

“you are to me.” he declares.

it’s impossible to argue with that. you want it to stay true. you want him to keep believing in you.

“i’m tired.” you whisper, removing yourself from his lap. “let’s go to sleep.”

he gazes at you with longing.

you are lying on his bed but you have never felt so far away.

“are we really not going to talk about this?”

“not now. i’m tired, jungkook.”

“baby…”

“juwon is a terrible person, but i had it coming…” you mumble. “that’s all there is to it.”

foreboding silence falls upon the bedroom. you can’t bring yourself to look at jungkook, so you close your eyes and pray that when the sun rises, this night will simply turn out to be a nightmare orchestrated by your wicked mind.

“whatever that is, it doesn’t warrant what he did.” he plants a gentle kiss on your forehead, and it takes everything in you not to fall apart into a thousand shards. “and i’m sorry that i couldn’t stop it from happening.”

—

jungkook returns after his shower, not yet done with drying his dripping hair with a towel. you’ve drifted off to sleep in the time that he was gone, lips slightly parted open as you breathe out puffs of air in a steady rhythm. your hair is a halo and you’re an angel snoozing on a cloud.

he heard it loud and clear, and you haven’t denied it either, but there’s not a part of him that believes it. is he blindly in love with you? is this what he was warning him about? are you not an angel, but a siren?

wary of waking you up, he attaches a bandaid to your cheek. he flicks the lightswitch but he turns on the night lamp so you won’t have to manuever the dark incase you wake up in the middle of the night in need of the bathroom.

shit, shit, shit. he curses in his head when you begin shuffling as soon as he settles himself on the bed, but it’s just you unknowingly seeking for warmth in your sleep. he gathers you in his arms and your pillow is abandoned in favor of his naked chest. it always feels fitting, like his heart is the stuffed toy that you can’t go without at night.

he swallows the lump in his throat, brushing your hair away from your face to gently caress your soft skin. you look so serene. but your ex’s fingers can be traced on the red bruise that has tainted your cheek and his jaw clenches, hand momentarily balling into a fist to release the leftover anger still boiling in his blood. everyday, you feel the need to act tough because of people like him, and you are… but deep down, he knows, that you just crave to be loved.

“you loved me too. once.”

however, that has lost its meaning when juwon didn’t love you the way you deserved to be loved.

and jungkook admits it’s not as easy for him to do in a whole different dimension. he leads a kind of life not everyone survives, but that never stopped him for trying his damn hardest.

—

you’re awoken in the middle of the night by jungkook’s forehead accidentally knocking against yours. his snoring doesn’t cease, however, and you had to remind yourself that this is the same boy who continued sleeping despite rolling off his inflated sleeping bag on camera.

you slowly sit up as you rub the sleep from your eyes. you spend an unknown amount of time spaced out, barely blinking. afterwards, you force yourself to leave the comfort of the bed, taking the cold compress along with you. you drain the melted ice over the kitchen sink before opening the refrigerator to refill it with ice cubes. you can’t help but to allow your eyes to wander around, which then leads you to contemplate on whether to cook ramen or not… but then again, it’s already 3am and most likely, you won’t be able to sleep again if you do.

“yah! why are doing just standing there?”

the deep voice echoes throughout the kitchen. you yelp in shock, nearly dropping the ice bag as you tap on your pounding chest.

“i told you to stop doing that!”

jimin bursts into a fit of too delighted giggles, hunched over the kitchen counter as he places a hand over his belly. he’s fully clothed this time, fresh from the shower, judging from his hair.

“it’s not funny!” you whine. “one of these days i might be holding a knife when you do that!”

“ey, what would you be holding a knife for? jungkook never lets you lift a finger while you’re here.”

that’s just because he knows you’re not very talented in the kitchen.

the wide smile on his face then fades, expression morphing into one of concern as he studies your face bathed by the refrigerator light.

“what happened to your face?”

fuck, you’ve completely forgotten about that.

“it’s a long story.” you sigh, closing the refrigerator.

“it’s alright. i have all the time in the world to listen.”

“you know that i really appreciate that and i’m grateful but…” your smile borders on a wince. “no, you don’t. get some more sleep, please.”

your unexpected response causes jimin to scratch his head shyly. the two of you stare at each other for a few seconds before laughing at the same time.

“oh, that’s right!” you pause on your tracks when an essential item pops in your mind. “do you have healing ointment? for cuts and bruises and stuff?”

“it’s for jungkook,” you add.

“doesn’t he have that?”

“it’s not here,”

your sweet smile tells jimin everything he needs to know.

“ah, that kid really comes home to different houses now. he’s all grown up.”

“…and how many exactly?” you arch an eyebrow.

he purses his lips together, jokingly pretending to think hard. “the dorm… and then his family… then there’s you?”

“anywhere else?”

“nope!”

“sooo, do you have it or not?”

“i’ll go downstairs and buy it right now.”

he offers you a kind smile and pats on the head. a protest dies down in your throat as he goes straight for the front door.

“thank you!”

“you’re welcome!”

—

despite your active efforts to avoid making any sort of noise, the door produces a small ‘click’ as you cautiously close it behind you. you discover that jungkook has flipped over to face your side, his arm outstretched as if he was reaching out for you. you almost feel bad for leaving him alone in bed, so you sit next to him, positioned on the lower half of the bed since he took up your space.

a short snore escapes him, one that rises then falls so abruptly, like a note on the piano pressed on accident. you cover your mouth to muffle your giggle.

how adorable. you have grown to tolerate, and even adore, his snoring.

stolen kisses on his bruised knuckles, tiny and featherlight, apologetic most of all. their bad condition brought upon by boxing worsened when he used his dominant hand bare, knuckles of his two longest fingers ripped. it seems that he did the bare minimum by putting a stop to the bleeding then washing them clean, then nothing else. he didn’t even tell you, didn’t complain or show any sign that he was in pain.

you hold the cold compress over his bruises, switching between his cheek and knuckles, mindful of not touching the wounds as to not aggravate him in his sleep.

you’ve been stripped down bare— your pride and dignity dismantled into pieces that create a picture of you that you do not like… but could be the love and sincerity in your heart be enough to live by? even if no one is awake to witness it?

you’re saved from drowning in your thoughts by the front door being unlocked. for the second time, you tiptoe your way out of jungkook’s bedroom.

“this is for wounds, and then…” jimin returns the tube inside the paper bag to grab the other. “this one, for bruises.”

“thank you. i’ll pay you back.”

“yah!” jimin expands his eyes threateningly, which you mimic in challenge as you hug the paper bag to your chest. “i’m also your older brother, okay? i should do these things for you.”

you scrunch your nose, to express disagreement at first, but later on it only makes your smile appear brighter.

“doesn’t it hurt you to smile? please use them well too, ____. do you understand? that’s why i bought the biggest ones!”

it does hurt.

“thank you…” you reply shyly.

you’ve forgotten how it feels like to be taken care of by family.

—

“baby, where did you go?”

jungkook’s raspy voice is music to your ears.

he woke up a mere minute ago, caught in the middle of sitting up on the bed once it caught up to his sleep-muddled brain that you’re no longer beside him.

“nowhere,”

you sit at the edge of the bed without another word, putting his hands over your lap to apply the healing cream to his afflictions.

his eyelids flutter in sleepiness as he watches your every movement.

a small dollop at the pad of your finger, transferred over his torn knuckle and smeared with the lightest of touch. occasionally your finger pauses, unsure, calculating— the last thing it wants is to hurt him.

he kisses your lips— he feels suspended in time—hasn’t quite reconnected with reality and with his body. wide-eyed, you seem taken aback by the display of affection. his mouth then softly curves with fondness.

“i love you.”

“i love you, too.” you whisper timidly.

your actions have become hurried, but jungkook is far too drowsy to notice your discomfort.

for the final part, you rub the cream on the bruise on his cheek. you press a kiss on the corner of his lips. “all done. go back to sleep.”

“let’s go,”

he hooks his arm under your knees, eager to carry you over to your side of the bed, but he gets interrupted by your protest.

“wait, wait, wait- i need to pee first.”

“wha- hurry!” he complains with a peeved frown, which you fail to catch a glimpse of because he has squeezed you taut against his body. “i won’t be able to sleep without you here.”

—

eternally cursed with the ability to feel too much of everything.

you push your back against the bathroom door, breathing heavy and labored as you blindly pat around for its lock. the click serves as the cue for your salty tears to drip from the edges of your eyelashes, cascading down, down, down your chin. some of them crash on the collar of your pajama top, the rest on the white tiled floor. this room is a stranger to your shipwreck, but old habits die hard.

the intense pressure of the water collides with the porcelain sink. rain and thunder and the gusts of wind being your gasps for air. an isolated storm undetected in the city of seoul you’re forced to brave alone, on the floor, tucked into yourself to protect the beating sacredness inside your ribcage. the sobs claw their way up your throat rather than soaring like exhales do.

no one has ever raised their hand at you. not even your parents. not even when you broke your grandmother’s precious china, or lost their big paper bills to the wind, or cursed at them for embarrassing you infront of your friends.

you want to be mad and say that juwon deserved what he got. you want to say that you hope his nose is broken. but you don’t know how one is supposed to react when something like that happens. you don’t know if it justifies everything after that. if the roles were reversed and you slapped him, won’t no one bat an eye?

…and you know jungkook has questions you still haven’t figured out how to answer. you know he now has reasons to doubt you. you know in his eyes, you may now be a hypocrite and not the advocate he adored. these days, you don’t really want to be seen as anything less or more than who you are, but you so desperately wish to be someone he is proud to love.

you feel mocked for even daring to dream of it.

“i’m tired, i’m tired, i’m tired.”

incoherent mumbles further stirs the unbridled chaos.

“i’m so sick of this. why… why do bad things keep happening to me?”

you don’t expect an answer but you yearn for some sort of meaning. you don’t mind suffering but you wish it could only be to an extent where you don’t have to fear.

echoes of rumbles and thunder. you’re nearer the sky but farther from heaven.

—

it’s been more than a week. you’ve been waking up with a gaping hole in the middle of your torso. you climb out of bed, cover up your cheek with make-up, good as new, and go about your day as if nothing happened. life on its own is already too much of a burden for you.

jungkook checks up on you everyday, though, despite his busy schedule. mostly through the phone, and whenever he can, he goes straight to where you are after work to dote on you no matter the time. he kisses you on the cheek, claims himself to have healing properties, and says i love you. and during those periods of time you were together, he hasn’t said another word about the incident. and it has been driving you absolutely insane.

you glance down at him, sat on the floor with an ipad balanced on top of his propped up knees, wearing one of your anti-radiation glasses as he finds himself absorbed in drawing the view a foot away from him. you.

“why do you keep looking at me?” he scolds you lightheartedly. “go back to studying so we can go to sleep.”

“can’t help it,” you mumble as you reposition your pen over the paper. you’ve been reorganizing your notes the whole night for your upcoming tests, but your mind keeps flying everywhere else. “my boyfriend’s too pretty.”

“ah, it can’t be helped then. sorry about that.” he smirks cockily, pulling the dramatics by switching his eyes between you and his back. “should… should i turn around then?”

“did you box again?”

the accusation is spat out before you can think twice.

“oh, you did. your knuckles are all messed up again.”

he pouts, crossing his legs. “but baby, i have to train... i wrapped my hands properly!”

“still,” you sigh. “can’t you just let them heal for a little while?”

you turn to the cabinet on your other side to bring out the pouch of healing ointments you’re now suspecting he brought and didn’t accidentally leave behind.

you lay out your hand, and jungkook puts his on top of yours, dragging himself close.

you both smile when you see that he has laid his hands over your thighs like he’s getting a manicure. silly boy. you pull them closer by his fingers so you can reach his red knuckles.

“why are you trying so hard?”

your finger is stained with his blood. your voice is as gentle as your touches, and that’s why it hurts.

jungkook doesn’t know either. he’s been trying to extinguish his leftover anger and bitterness through work and boxing— suppressing the onslaught of negative thoughts threatening to poison what the two of you have. jungkook doesn’t want to know. he doesn’t want anything to change. right now, he can’t afford them to.

“there’s no one to fight.”

“turns out there is,” he argues.

he regrets it as soon as your hand trembles.

“it’s okay… to ask. we’re in a relationship. you’re entitled to know things like that.” your eyes are unafraid again, and it scares him, like you’re always prepared to let him go. “i won’t get offended, or anything like that. if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“i trust you,” he says simply. “so i don’t need to know. especially if talking about it makes you uncomfortable. it’s okay… we’re okay, baby.”

stillness washes over the room like a tide that swallows everything up, and for a moment jungkook is convinced that the two of you will never bring it up again.

but the words you utter next are a punch to the gut.

they almost sound like a plead.

“but i can’t live my life that way, jungkook.”

strands of your hair descend to your face, framing it perfectly, but your eyes become hidden from view. you rip a bandaid open and blanket it over his two knuckles, still wounded as before, if not worse.

“if you intend to be with me for a long time, then i need you to need to know…” because there will be things i’d want to tell you, but wouldn’t feel the need to.

“then tell me,” he replies, prompted by a renewed determination. “i don’t just intend to be with you for a long time. i want way more than that.”

—

jungkook fiddles with the hello kitty bandaid using his thumb, mind reeling and grappling to process the overload of information told by your storytelling voice. all of a sudden, he’s grateful that you decided to lie down on the bed for this conversation.

“juwon was your boyfriend before me, no?”

“no, no, no. he was…” your lips part as if you have something more left to say, but you eventually give up. “yup, no.”

“so you found out that he’s been cheating on you for-for two mo-”

“three-”

“three months, and you…” he blinks. “slept with a stranger and let him catch you?”

“i was really petty. i was seventeen after all… my pride couldn’t take it. my friends- they tried to stop me but… but all i could think of was how to make him feel the way i was feeling.” your voice sounds small, smaller as you squeeze yourself into his side and curl up to hide your face. “so i let him think i was the bad guy.”

he understands that you were vengeful, but he doesn’t know if you comprehend the scale of what you have done.

“he looked so sad and hurt that i started to feel guilty. i don’t know if i was still acting when i was apologizing to him.” you scoff with eyebrows knitted together. “i felt so dirty… i still feel like a bad person, you know?”

you took the face of juwon’s demons and he didn’t like what he saw.

“i had it coming,” — he now has a grasp of what you meant before.

“so how has he been doing this to me for such a long time? how does he stomach it? knowing what i was going through? that’s what i thought… it makes me so upset…”

jungkook doesn’t try to assess you as you speak. he only listens, until your voice cracks. his heart is split into two as tears flood your eyes, escaping past the corners and slipping down to soak the fabric of his t-shirt.

you sniffle. “and the sex wasn’t even that great. i regret it even more.”

he flinches, abruptly squeezing his eyes shut. not that great? okay… okay. the mental image of you being physically intimate with someone that isn’t him definitely doesn’t sicken him to his core. at all. nope, nope, nope.

“fuck, baby, please,” he groans as if he is in pain, putting an arm over his eyes. “hearing about you have sex with other guys is making me want to punch something again. fuck.”

“that’s what you took away from the story?”

“yes!” he exclaims with conviction. “we should’ve met a year earlier. i would’ve let you use me!”

you gasp, scandalized. “oh my god! jungkook!”

“argh-” he animatedly clutches at his chest that caught your fist.

“you’re crazy!”

“uhuh, about you.” he proudly replies, pulling you closer to his side, as if that was still possible.

the subtle upwards of the corners of your lips gives him a sense of relief. he tenderly cups your cheek, his thumb ghosting over the bruise that has turned a darker shade of blue and purple.

“listen to me, i- i’m not here to tell you what’s right or wrong. i’m not that type of person. but what i can do tell you is that this…” he briefly shakes his head. “didn’t change the way i see you at all. he hurt you. he cheated and you were hurt, ____.”

your eyes gleam with uncertainty, a fresh wave of tears threatening to escape. “are you sure?”

“of course i am. why wouldn’t i be sure?”

“because you’re crazy about me.”

the sweet innocence of your eyelashes fluttering elicits a chuckle from him. you’re so fucking cute.

“that’s the reason i’m sure.” he tilts up your chin to plant a kiss to your lips, mumbling. “i’ve never been wrong about anything i’m crazy about.”

“thank you,” you say quietly, melting into his embrace. you nuzzle your face against his chest, and at last, you grant your eyes rest. “i can finally sleep peacefully again.”

fuck, it’s been weighing on you this whole time and he didn’t know.

“i’m sorry i only dated assholes before you.”

“aish, why would you be sorry about such a thing?” he kisses the top of your head, gentleness contradicting his following sentence. “i’d crush each one of those assholes for you.”

and he’d beat himself up the worst if he ever becomes one of them.

you yawn, sniffling right after. “mhm, i bet you will.”

he carefully rolls over to the side so he can wrap both arms around you, and you keen in contentment.

“jungkook?”

“yes, baby?” he coos.

“i… really… love you so, so, so much. you are… the one person i’d die for before i hurt.”

goddammit, it’s an angel sleeping in his arms.

“that’s a relief to hear. you’re very smart and scary when you’re mad.”

“eh, jungkook! i swear i’ve grown up! i’m not like that anymore!”

“okay, okay!” he laughs at your childish whining and squirming as he ushers you back in his embrace. “i believe you! i trust you! i love you too!”

—

although you spend more nights together in your apartment for your safety and convenience, in all honesty, you like staying over at jungkook’s more. his smell evokes the sentiment of home, and when you stay long enough, it becomes a temporary part of you. you’re gradually more well-versed in the organized and unorganized corners of his room. you like that you know where he keeps the safety pins and you know to be careful when walking so you won’t trip over his dumbbells he leaves lying around. and it’s a little ridiculous but… you like that his mattress is on the floor and you don’t really know why.

your boyfriend is still blissfully asleep as you climb over him, landing on the floor without a sound like a veteran spy. however, you rush to step out of the room before the rumbling of your empty stomach could wake him up.

“yah, thief! what do you think you’re doing?!”

“fuck!” the pack of ramen hits the floor when your hands fly to your chest to clutch at your painfully pounding heart. “i swear to god, you’re going to kill me one day!”

and unsurprisingly, your chagrin is countered yet again with jimin’s all too pleased laughter.

“____, you look so suspicious! why are you using a flashlight? we have electricity! we can pay for it!”

“i don’t like it too bright, okay?” you grumble as you pick up your supposed midnight meal.

“let’s just turn on this one then.”

“uh-” the objection dies down in your throat when the light over the dining table was switched on.

“i’m hungry, too. grab two more packs of ramyeon, please.”

“who’s the other one for?”

jimin fills the pot with water from the sink while you pick up two more of the same pack from the pantry.

“just us. don’t you agree that one pack is too small for one person?”

“it’s just enough for me though?” you rip open the packs one by one to retrieve the packets of seasonings. “with your job, though, i’d definitely have a bigger appetite.”

“alright,” he pouts, pretending to be upset. “let’s have just two then.”

“no, no, no-” you chase his hand, tightly gripping the last pack that he stole. “let’s have three! let’s have three! i didn’t eat dinner!”

—

“my mom brought a lot of kimchi yesterday. there’s an entire box in the fridge. i’ll pack you some before you leave later.”

“put some more in,” you say cutely as you peer down at the pot of ramen beside jimin. “please?”

he chuckles, adhering to your request before handing the container to you.

“thank you!”

you hop on the counter infront of the stove, chewing on a mouthful of kimchi with a joy akin to a child receiving a sweet treat. leaving the ramen to cook for the next five minutes, jimin sits a few feet away.

“aigoo, are you that hungry?”

“this is so delicious!” you praise his mother’s cooking instead of answering the question. “i can really eat this on its own.”

“ey, don’t fill yourself up yet! we have a lot of ramyeon to eat!”

“sorry, sorry!”

your giggles fill the apartment with warmth during this freezing winter. jimin didn’t doubt it when jungkook said that you light up every room you enter, he just didn’t expect that he would also gain a friend.

“how’s your cheek?”

“as you can see,” you motion at your face. “yellow. soooo… uglier.”

“that means it’s healing well.”

“i know,” the apples of your cheek become plump as your lips curve. “it no longer hurts to smile.”

“that’s a relief to hear,” he returns your kind smile. “jungkook has been worried about you.”

that’s the end of what he can tell you. jungkook won’t be pleased if you learn that he cried when he talked about the horrible thing that happened to you.

“thank you,”

“huh? for what?”

“being jungkook’s happiness.”

from his peripheral vision, he perceives your surprise. however, he is too flustered to meet your eyes while he is speaking from the bottom of his heart.

“the past year was physically and mentally draining for the team. as you know, we… we were considering giving up and disbanding. and of course it’s hard on all of us, but i’m really, really worried about jungkook. but!”

he chuckles at the dramatic rise of his own voice.

“i’m less worried now that you’re in his life. and i’m not saying this to put pressure on you or anything! but you see, when he’s tired, he bounces back quickly because of you. he’s smiling more because of you. and i know it goes it also goes the other way around. mhmm… i-i guess what i’m saying is that i hope you can continue being each other’s strength? be each other’s cheerleader?”

you have begun to feel emotional as you listened to his sincere and heartwarming words, but you can’t help but to cackle at the fact that you just witnessed the park jimin say the word ‘cheerleader’ while daintily waving his hands around as they were holding pompoms. how awfully endearing.

“…or something like that.”

uncontrollable giggles vibrate his body, dramatically slipping down the counter and onto the tiled floor to enshroud himself in extreme sheepishness.

“ah, ____! this is driving me crazy! don’t laugh!”

“what are you doing lying on the floor?” you playfully scold him, recording with your phone in secret. “why do i suddenly feel like the older one?”

“what’s with the noise?”

you whip your head around, wide curious eyes greeted with a shirtless jungkook who is still rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“is that ramyeon…? i want some too.”

jimin groans when he feels your foot poke him lightly.

“mister, can we add more? my googie is hungry too.”

—

“hyung, ____ told me something recently that really put a lot of things into perspective.”

and with that, jimin pours another bottle of beer in his and jungkook’s ice-filled mugs. “let me hear it.”

“if you intend to be with me for a long time, then i need you to need to know. at first i didn’t understand what it meant? then after we talked, something clicked for me. ahhh, i see it now. ____ didn’t want us to trust each other blindly… because that… that isn’t a good… foundation? for something that i want to last for a very long time. you, me, the members… don’t we all trust each other because we know that we’re good people to our core and we’re good at what we do? isn’t that why we have come this far, and why we keep going? besides army, of course!”

jimin blinks lazily, glossy eyes from the alcohol underneath it all. “that’s right. we wouldn’t have started this anyway… without that kind of trust. i don’t think it’s a connection you can just build with anyone too.”

“oh, that’s it. that’s right!”

“living together for a long time doesn’t guarantee it.”

“exactly.” jungkook nods repeatedly, probably too passionately, a guaranteed ticket for a hangover later on. “we talked about that last time too.”

“right? so we should protect it… maintain it… never lose sight of our purpose…”

the lack of words that follow does not equate to silence. glasses clink against each other and teeth rip bags of chips open and noodles are slurped. they’re overseas and they can’t go to a korean restaurant and grill their own meat. the hotel steak would take forever to arrive and quite frankly, they had it yesterday and it was not good. this is not exactly ideal, but it has its own charm.

jungkook takes another swig of the bittersweet alcohol, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand afterwards.

“____ has become an important part of my life that i would do anything to protect too. how do i say it…?” he exhales to relieve the heavy weight on his chest. “i feel like i gained more purpose in life, hyung… to be honest, i might have a harder time because of that. i know it but… i’m happy. seriously, i’m happy.”

—

taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

—

[egcdeath]

the l word

pairing: joel miller x reader

summary: the five times you realized that you loved joel, and the first time one of you says it. 

word count: 9.1k

warnings: canon divergent, no apocalypse, 5+1 fic, hurt/comfort, a certain someone gets punched, brief mention of postpartum depression & abandonment, really brief mention of physical abuse in 3, fluff, domestic fluff, angst with a happy ending, found family

author’s note: happy very early valentine’s day! this is part three of the soccer parents au, you can read spectator sport (p1) and clean sheet (p2) here!

this fic would not be possible if it were not for the help of @freakinfairykind, who sent me the idea for scene 3 and listened to my thought vomit whenever i hit a roadblock! you can thank them for the brilliance that is what occurs in that scene :)! enjoy!

part four / series masterlist

Zero

After Nathan, you were sure that you would never fall in love again. Love was supposed to be beautiful and soft—a random bouquet of flowers, having a whole conversation with just your eyes, sweet messages sent to you when you expected it least and needed it most, and foot massages after a long day. For you, love had been nothing of the sort—settling for mediocrity, spitting out venomous words during arguments, and biting back tears on forgotten anniversaries. 

Love wasn’t kind or patient, or rainbows and flowers. Love was a storm cloud that followed you around when you were around him, pouring sadness and anger on you and striking you with lightning bolts of resentment. 

Maybe some people just simply weren’t meant for love. Maybe you were one of them.

One

After years of trying to hold together a failing marriage and hide the myriad of painful feelings you were going through for the sake of your daughter, bottling up your feelings had become your preferred coping mechanism to everyday stressors. 

For the most part, it worked for you. Sure, some days were harder than others, and the smallest confrontation or blip in the day would send you spiraling; but more often than not, you were able to compartmentalize whatever was bothering you and save it for a rainy day.

That was part of what worked so well about the relationship you had with Joel during the soccer season—you had the opportunity to unscrew the lid of the shaken bottle of your feelings just a little bit, taking some of the edge off by yelling about completely inconsequential things. But now, you don't have that outlet. And today was one of those days that you desperately needed it. 

Nathan had come by to pick up Chloe just a bit ago, and it was very obvious that she hadn’t exactly wanted to spend her weekend with him. Some of her friends were going to the mall and having a sleepover, and because Nathan wasn’t particularly fond of their parents, he’d very openly told her no. She begged and pleaded to stay with you (mainly so she could go hang out with her friends), which of course broke your heart a little bit, but also led to a pretty dramatic outburst from your daughter to Nathan when he’d picked her up.

“You’re raising a spoiled little brat,” he hissed at you, pointing an accusatory finger once Chloe was in the car. 

“At least I’m raising her. You only show up when it’s convenient for you,” you shot back. If Nathan wanted to stoop low, you could fall to his level. “Put your finger down. She’s watching us.”

“A little argument won’t hurt her,” he scoffed. “See? You’re proving my point: you spoil her too much.”

“Because years of watching her parents bicker wasn’t traumatic enough? Get in the fucking car, Nathan.”

He huffed, looking back at the car, then over at you. “Fine. But before I go, I’d appreciate it if you stopped talking poorly about me in front of her. Clearly she’s listening to you and acting out because of it.”

“Have you considered that you’re just a shit father and maybe that’s why she doesn’t like you?” you were already making your way back inside, feeling the avalanche of emotions beginning to stir inside of you, and a little frightened of what might come out next. 

“You’re still such a bitch. Every day I praise every deity that’s out there that I left your sorry ass.”

You were viciously fighting the urge to get the last word in, knowing that whatever would come out next wouldn’t be good, and you certainly didn’t want Chloe seeing you like that. You left him with a sarcastic thumbs up, then slammed your front door, taking deep breaths to attempt to calm yourself down.

You crumbled down in front of the door, still maintaining slow and deep breaths. It was no big deal. Nathan just says stuff like that to stir the pot. You just needed to find something to take your mind off of everything. Your mind went to the scarf you’d been working on crocheting, something you could mindlessly do for a little while while you cooled off. 

The scarf was going well. You were calmly crocheting the evening away when you checked your phone to find a few apologetic messages from your coworkers. Feeling confused, you went on to check your email, only to find that the promotion you’d spent the last few months of your life slaving away for had been given to someone else—someone who had worked half as hard as you, and even took credit for a few of your projects. 

Your hands shook as you set down your phone and attempted to pick back up the crochet hook. You were fine, right? Sometimes these things just happen. Sometimes you sacrifice hours of your free time, hours of time you’ll never get back with your child, or significant other, hours you’ll never get back of sleep, hours of-

You cut your mind off, tossing aside the scarf and taking a deep breath. You were gonna be okay. This just meant you could take your foot off the gas going forward, since your work, effort, and time clearly was not being valued. Maybe you would just sit at your desk and play games, then slap your name on projects and presentations like Naomi. Maybe you’d just-

Your phone began to vibrate on your bed and your immediate reaction was to silence it, but upon checking the contact name, you became slightly more inclined to answer. 

“Hey! I almost thought you weren’t gonna pick up,” the man on the other end chuckled. 

“Is everything okay?” you asked, although you weren’t sure you’d be able to handle anything else today. With how your day was going, Joel was probably calling you to break up.

“Better than okay. We finished up early, and Sarah’s already at her friend’s. You in the mood for some company?”

No, not particularly. In fact, if Joel came over, you’d probably end up going off on him over something you don’t really mean, successfully putting an end to the best thing you’ve had in a while. 

“Uh,” your voice cracked, and a rogue tear slipped down your face. You didn’t even know that you were on the brink of tears. “I’m sorry,” you uttered, digging the heels of your hands into your eyes. 

“Sorry for what? You don’t have to feel bad for not wanting me over,” he said genuinely, not picking up on your emotional state over the phone. 

“No, I do want you over,” you whimpered. “I just… I don’t want to lose you, too.”

“What? I promise you I’m not going anywhere. Well, I’m going home now, but I can also come to your place if you want me to.”

“Please,” you grit out. 

“You okay?” he asked, finally catching on to the fact that something was very off with you. 

“I don’t know,” you confessed. 

“Do you want me to stay on the phone with you?”

“No.”

“You sure you want me to come over?”

“Yeah,” you sniffled, desperately trying to fend off your tears.

“Okay, sweetheart. I’ll see you soon, alright?”

“Bye,” you hung up, burrowing yourself under layers of blankets and curling up onto your side. Maybe this tidal wave of emotions would pass by the time Joel got to your place. You closed your eyes as you took deep, shaky breaths, wiping away stray tears every now and then as they fell. You could pull yourself together. 

You kept telling yourself this as you dragged yourself out of bed to answer the door, but the moment you saw Joel with a box of chocolates and a bouquet of flowers, you completely lost it. He immediately tossed the items down and pulled you into a tight embrace, not exactly knowing what was wrong, but instinctually wanting to comfort you regardless. 

You didn’t even really know what it was either. Sure, you were pissed that you’d lost the promotion, and even more upset that Nathan had called your daughter a name while insulting your parenting skills, but it was far more than that. It was every little thing from the past two months that had upset you in some capacity that you had decided to push as far down as possible. 

You sobbed until your throat was raw and your eyes grew sore from crying so much. The whole time Joel wordlessly held you, rubbing soothing circles into your back and swaying you back and forth just the slightest bit. You almost felt like your tears would never stop, and the more you willed yourself to pull it together, the harder it was to do so. 

Finally, you pulled away, head hanging with humiliation by the emotions abruptly pouring out of you. You truly felt like a live wire. You should’ve just told Joel not to come over. 

“Want me to run you a bath?” he asked softly, tilting your chin up so he could look at you, and rubbing a thumb over your cheek. “Or is there anything I can do to make you feel better?”

“A bath is good,” you said quietly, averting your gaze. You almost felt like a toddler in the midst of a tantrum. The shame of being a grown woman who couldn’t even control her emotions was overwhelming, but Joel didn’t seem to mind much at all. He simply led you up to your bathroom and quietly filled the tub for you, checking it every now and then to make sure it wasn’t too hot. Once the tub was filled up, he helped you undress, then held your hand as you stepped into the tub. 

“Would you like me to stay?” Joel asked as you settled into the tub. 

“Not really,” you admitted. 

“Okay. Just yell for me if you need anything. I’ll be downstairs.”

Somehow, the bath was everything you needed. It was just warm enough to relax your rather tense muscles, and just quiet enough to allow you to actually process your thoughts. You sat and soaked in the bath for a while, just inhaling the scent of lavender, and trying your best to let go of the feelings that you’d been holding onto for so long. 

Eventually, you felt ready to talk about things, and called out Joel’s name, who after a moment, showed up in your bathroom and sat down on a towel next to the tub. 

“How are you feeling?” he asked, reaching for your pruny hand. 

“Better,” you answered as you laced your fingers with his.  

“Well, I’m here when you feel ready to talk about it. And if you don’t feel ready to talk about it, that’s okay too.” 

“Okay,” you said quietly. “I’m sorry,” you apologized, the apology being more of a force of habit. 

“You don’t need to be sorry,” Joel  assured, “we all feel our feelings sometimes,” he pushed away a bit of hair that had fallen into your face. 

“I’m sorry you had to see me like this, I guess,” you continued. It had been a while since you’d shown any negative emotions in front of anyone, let alone a significant other. In fact, the last time you’d been sad in front of a significant other, you’d been laughed at and mocked. You’d been conditioned to see your own vulnerability as weakness, as a character flaw you needed to apologize for.

“Like what? Naked?” he teased, trying to at least make you smile when you’d clearly been feeling so down. “You know I don’t mind that at all. Seriously, though. There’s nothing wrong with being upset, and there’s nothing wrong with being upset in front of the people you care about.”

A tear slipped down your cheek. It had been so long since anyone had made you feel like you weren’t a burden for having a rough day. Joel gently brushed away your tears with his thumb, and kissed your forehead. 

“Thank you,” you muttered, feeling all sorts of feelings, particularly one feeling you couldn’t quite describe that had been lying dormant for years of your life. 

You eventually got out of the tub once the water had become too cold and you had become

somewhat of a human prune, and you found yourself curled up in bed with Joel, wearing a flannel that he’d left behind the last time he was over. 

“Feeling any better?” he asked once again, gently rubbing your back as a trashy reality TV show played quietly in the background. 

“Yeah,” you mumbled as you looked up at the ceiling, “it’s been a rough few months.” 

“Months?” Joel asked, scooting closer to you. “What’s been happening?”

“Too much to get into,” you sighed. “I guess it just all came out now.”

Joel turned down the volume of the TV, and turned his body so that he could face you properly. “If you want to talk, we have the time. I may or may not have drank a coffee on my way over here, so I’ll be completely alert for the next few hours.”

He gently grabbed your hand and squeezed it, a little reminder that he was here for you. 

“Today’s just been… bad. When Nathan picked Chloe up, she was upset so he called her a spoiled brat and said that it was my fault that she was one. Obviously I do a lot for her, and I know that I’m a good mom, but sometimes the way he talks about her scares me a little. I don’t want her to have self-esteem issues because her dad likes to name-call. I mean, she’s probably gonna have enough issues from our shitty relationship and messy divorce. That really upset me, but that definitely wasn’t the last straw or anything.”

Joel silently sat and listened, holding your hand and listening attentively.

“I lost the promotion, Joel. You know, the one I’ve been working absurd hours for? But it’s not just that, it’s just… there are months of emotions I haven’t had a chance to process. I guess it just all came out now after that.”

“I’m so sorry,” he said softly. “Nathan is an asshole. He shouldn’t be saying that kind of thing about his child just to make you feel bad. And your boss is stupid for not giving you that position when you’ve clearly earned it. Everything you’ve felt today is valid, but so is everything else that you’ve been holding in for the past… however long. It’s okay to feel your feelings in the moment instead of waiting for them to boil over.”

“I guess, it’s just… I don’t know. I’ve had to be strong for so long. I don’t know if I know how to not wait for my emotions to boil over.”

“Well, you don’t have to be so strong anymore. You’re not alone,” he assured you. “If you ever need me to watch Chloe because you need to go out to the middle of nowhere and scream, or just need someone to talk your feelings out with, I am more than happy to do so. Okay?”

“Okay,” you agreed, setting your head on Joel’s chest. 

You were getting that weird, dormant feeling in you once again. There was an odd warmth in your chest and butterflies in your stomach, that felt strange and familiar, but most of all, exciting. You had no idea what was going on, or what that feeling was, but you did know that you didn’t want it to stop anytime soon.

And honestly, it didn’t seem like it would. 

Two

Walking into Joel’s home to the sound of soft guitar chords made you feel a bit like you had woken up in a dream, or died and gone to heaven. It wasn’t often that you’d heard him play guitar. Sing? Sure! He loved to sing along to a song he liked on the radio, or do karaoke with you and the kids. But playing guitar was something that he seemed to like to keep to himself.

Joel had picked Chloe up from school, as you had an important work event that you’d anticipated going quite late, and as you’d predicted, it was nearly midnight by the time you got to Joel’s place. It was rare for you to see those two alone, without yours or Sarah’s presence, but you’d assumed the latter had gone to bed due to how late it was and the fact that they had school in the morning.

So hearing Joel play for your daughter felt… weird. But a good weird. Like he trusted her enough to be doing something that he often kept under wraps, even for you.

“I love this song!” you heard your daughter exclaim from the living room. You rounded a corner, not quite ready to appear yet, but curious enough to eavesdrop on the scene.

Joel chuckled at her reaction, “should we sing it together?”

“Maybe, I’m not very good, though.”

“I doubt that,” Joel said, continuing to play the introduction to the song on a loop. 

“I… fine, I’ll sing.”

The two of them began to sing along to the song, and you could’ve sworn that your heart did an actual flip as you listened. There was something very sweet about the whole scene, of Joel playing a song your daughter loved, of him assuring her that she was good enough, and singing something together. 

You should’ve felt bad for listening in on the scene, for invading on a moment that was clearly meant to be private, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to feel that way when your heart was so filled with… something that you couldn’t quite place.

The song came to a soft conclusion, and you figured there was no better time to finally step out from behind the wall than then. 

“You guys sounded so good!” you stated as you entered the room.

“Oh hi,” Joel greeted a little awkwardly, looking down at his guitar as if he’d been caught red handed. 

“Mom!” Chloe exclaimed, coming over to you and hugging you. “I missed you.”

“We were just killing time while we waited for you to get home. How was work?”

“Eh,” you shrugged, sitting down across from Joel as Chloe curled up next to you. “It was work.”

“Mom, did you know that Joel sings and plays guitar? He’s really good!”

“Really? I didn’t know that,” you acted surprised for your child, but looked mischievously at your partner. It wasn’t often that you had the chance to get Joel to play you something, and you refused to let the opportunity slip away from you. “Can you play me something?”

“He can!” Chloe accepted the offer before Joel could begin to protest. God, was this child your mini-you. “Go ahead, Joel.”

He looked to you as if he needed some sort of excuse to not do it, or encouragement to play (more likely than not, he was looking for an out), but you simply shrugged, far too enthused at the idea of him playing guitar for you. 

Just as the man sighed and began to put his fingers to the string, Sarah came down the stairs and plopped herself right next to you. 

“You guys are loud,” she stated, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. 

“Sorry for waking you up,” you apologized. “You were just about to miss your dad’s concert!”

“Oh good,” Sarah giggled, getting all comfortable next to you as she pulled a blanket over her lap. 

“I feel like this is a premeditated attack,” Joel held onto his guitar. 

“It’s definitely not. We just want you to share your gift with the world!”

“Alright, fine. Only because I like you guys so much.”

The three of you cheered from the couch as Joel began to play again, the soft acoustic notes of a love song you’d heard a few times before. As Joel played and sang, he looked straight at you, and you couldn’t help but feel like the lyrics were coming straight from his heart to you. 

That warm, fuzzy feeling in your chest that you’d become more and more familiar with over the course of your relationship began to reappear as you sat there, the moment a snapshot of the perfect domestic bliss that had become your home life. As you sat with your two favorite children in the world, and your favorite man, you realized that you’d never felt more content in your life. 

Three

When you agreed to come to a bar with Joel, you hadn’t expected it to be a quaint little hole-in-the-wall with great live music. 

The atmosphere was lively, the drinks were dangerously sweet, and best of all, it was cute watching Joel in his element. Part of you wondered if he ever saw himself up on the stage, playing for a little audience. Although, he was so bashful and shy playing in front of you and the girls that you wondered if he would like it at all. 

You finished off your first drink rather quickly, but you were feeling up for another, and prepared to head back to the bar. “Do you want another drink?” you asked Joel over the loud music. 

“I’m alright. Thank you, though,” he kissed your cheek, then looked back up at the stage, directing all of his focus there once more. 

You made your way back to the bar, where you ordered another fruity drink for yourself and patiently waited for it to be made, humming along to the cover being sung on stage. 

Being able to find out more about what Joel liked to spend his time doing was (unsurprisingly) quite nice. While he was vulnerable with his emotions, he was often a little more closed off when it came to sharing his hobbies and interests. You wondered how many of these live shows and open mics he was familiar with, how many local artists he was friends with. Would he ever feel comfortable enough around you to share those things with you? Well, you certainly hoped so. 

You looked around with a small smile on your face at the thought of learning more about your partner’s interests. Had he ever been the one up on stage? Maybe before Sarah was born and he was launched straight into the time consuming world of fatherhood. Although, he surely would’ve shared that with you by now.

You were drawn out of thought when eyes landed on a head of hair that looked a little too familiar for your liking.  

No.

There was no way.

This bar was definitely not his scene. In fact, if you’d suggested this bar, he would’ve laughed in your face and called you a hipster, before dragging you out to some stuffy restaurant where he’d complain about the portion size of both his meal and the bill. 

Your mind was just playing a mean trick on you. You’d had a somewhat stressful week, and sometimes drinking made you the slightest bit paranoid. Besides, it was just someone’s hair. Literally anyone could have that hair color, or hair cut, and although the world was small, it wasn’t that small. 

Just as you began to fall headfirst into your nerves, the bartender handed you your drink, and you walked back to Joel, head still in the clouds. 

You couldn’t shake that off feeling, even as Joel danced around with you and stole a sip of your drink, both actions bringing a smile to your face, but not quite quelling the growing discomfort in your stomach. 

You just needed to go clear your mind and freshen up. At least, that’s what you told yourself before telling Joel to keep your drink safe and power walking to the bathroom.

You stood at the sink, splashing your face with water as cold as the faucets would go. Nathan was not here. You needed to just relax, and enjoy the fun date that Joel had planned. You couldn’t keep letting this man ruin your experiences, even when he wasn’t present.

“You okay, hun?” a voice asked you while your head was bowed over the sink. When you looked up, your eyes nearly popped out of your head, as if you were some ridiculous cartoon character. 

Well. Your brain must’ve really been fucking with you today. Or the Universe just really hated you. 

Claire, Nathan’s new girlfriend, was asking you if you were alright in the bathroom of a bar that your new boyfriend had suggested. 

You were completely unsure of whether she knew who you were or not, although she seemed tipsy enough not to care. 

“Oh, I’m fine,” you smiled awkwardly at her. “But, uh, my mascara’s a little smudged. Any chance you have a makeup wipe?”

“Yeah!” she said, digging into her purse to check for the item. 

You’d never met Claire before, but as far as first impressions went, this one wasn’t too bad. She offered you the wipe, then stood next to you as you dabbed at your under eye. 

“You meet anyone fun tonight?” she asked, beginning to touch up her own makeup. 

“No, I’m actually here with my partner. He really likes the music,” you said casually, dabbing at the same spot so you could at least attempt to maintain your composure in an otherwise dramatically ironic and tense situation. 

“Oh no. Was he the one making you cry?”

“Cry? No! I was sweating. We were dancing,” suddenly, a slightly perverse question crossed your mind. “Does your partner make you cry a lot?”

“How do you even know I have one?” she giggled, sounding less accusatory and more confused. 

“I don’t I just-“

“No, not really,” she shrugged as she reapplied her lip liner. “He mostly just buys me shit and spoils me. What would I have to cry about? He’s a really good guy.”

Oh, you remembered that phase. Well, phases. The time after he’d slapped you during an argument immediately came to mind. Nathan could probably teach a seminar on love bombing, then making you feel guilty for having any negative feelings because of all the money he’d spent on you. 

“That’s good,” you nodded, tossing the used wipe in the trash and making your way to the door. “Thanks for checking in on me and helping me. Have a good night.”

“Hey, do I know you from somewhere?” she asked as your hand hit the door.

“No,” you replied promptly, maybe slamming the door behind you a little too hard. 

This was a lot to process, and a lot to take in. Despite having a fun time with Joel, you really just wanted to go home. Finding your way back out to him, you silently accepted back your drink and stood besides him stiffly. 

“You okay?” he asked, gently grabbing your arm. 

“Fine, just… just.. I have an upset stomach,” you explained. You were never a good liar, the concern in Joel’s eyes told you that you hadn’t suddenly become one. 

“I’m sorry, sweetie,” he said, rubbing your forearm gently. “Let’s go home, okay?”

You certainly didn’t protest as he began to lead you out of the bar, and you let out a sigh of relief at being able to leave before running into anyone else you knew.

Although, life was never that simple, was it?

As you approached the door, a familiar voice called out your name, sending a chill up your spine. Joel’s head whipped around from where it was coming from, and scowled when he saw who the voice belonged to. Ignoring him, the two of you continued your departure, a newfound urgency in both of your steps.

Once you were outside, you felt yourself puff out a sigh of relief. You’d managed to get out of the bar with only a brief conversation with Claire, and no direct interaction with Nathan. Now, if you could only get home, curl up with Joel on the couch, and tell him the absurd story of how you’d bumped into your ex’s new girlfriend in the bathroom. 

But the universe clearly wasn’t letting you off the hook just yet.

“Hey!” Nathan called as he stepped out of the bar, Claire trailing just a few paces behind him. “You’re such a fuckin’ bitch. Can’t even say hi to the father of your child.”

You were almost alarmed by the speed in which Joel marched over to your ex and reprimanded him. Not even wasting a moment, Joel shoved him back—a warning of sorts, with your knowledge that he was certainly holding himself back. 

“Leave her the fuck alone,” he barked. It was like no tone you’d ever heard him use before, not when he was upset with anyone, and not even when he was yelling at a referee for a bad call.  

“And who the fuck are you?” your ex shot back. 

“Does it really matter?” Joel pressed, not backing down despite the slightly shorter man getting in his face. “You’re not gonna go around trying to degrade women.”

“Oh yeah? You gonna stop me, Mr. Nice guy?” Nathan pushed Joel, but your partner barely budged. 

“You fuckin’ cuck,” Nathan muttered. “Why do you even care about this whore?”

Nathan took a second to think about it, glancing between the two of you before a light seemed to go off in his little brain. 

“Oh, I know. You’re that guy from the soccer games. You two together now?" His condescension was almost jarring to hear, and part of you worried about what your clearly inebriated ex might say or do next. “I see you’re still the community cumrag,” he directed at you. 

You hardly had a moment to process what was just said before Joel was swinging, clearly seeing red as he threw a hefty right hook at your ex, leaving a nasty crunching sound as he fell to the ground. 

“Don’t talk about her, or any other fucking woman like that ever again,” he squatted down to his level, and grabbed both of his cheeks. “Leave her the fuck alone, you understand me? Or next time you’re gonna wish it was just your nose.”

Nathan cradled his bloody nose and whimpered and Joel walked back to you, the fury on his face melting into something apologetic as you looked at him with wide eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he began, cautiously approaching you as if he was something to be afraid of. “I shouldn’t have done that. I overstepped-“

“Joel. Don’t apologize. Do you know how much that asshole deserved it? You did everyone a favor tonight, but especially me.” 

You had never had someone defend you so literally before. Sure, your friends had argued with Nathan a few times on your behalf, but punching Nathan in the face had truly raised your expectations for anyone who claimed to be doing anything to help you. You don’t think you’d have felt this alive or cherished in years. 

“Now let’s get you home and ice those knuckles.”

Four

You were usually a big fan of rainy days. The sound of rain pattering against the window or on the roof of your car, and the smell of petrichor on the pavement were sensations you wished you could experience all the time. But today, you weren’t quite so pleased to see the rain. 

You’d taken the day off to spend it with Joel, who had specifically asked for you to take some time off to be with him. You couldn’t blame him, as you’d been slightly neglecting him after things picked up once again at work. You’d had a whole outdoorsy day planned, with a morning hike, a visit to a conservatory, and a picnic at one of your favorite local parks. Unfortunately, none of those activities could be done comfortably in the pouring rain. 

Instead, you opted to come back to your place after you dropped your kids off at school, and have a domestic little day-in.

After putting some homemade cinnamon rolls into the oven, the two of you found yourselves on your couch, comfortably sitting together and reading your own books while the smell of warm cinnamon filled your house. 

Occasionally, you glanced out your window, the scene of rain granting you a sense of serenity. At one point, you noticed Joel’s gaze out the window as well, and you couldn’t help but comment on it. 

“Don’t you just love the rain?” you asked, setting your book down on your coffee table. It was more of an excuse to break the silence than an actual comment, but you said it regardless.

“It’s nice,” he agreed, his tone oddly somber for a comment on the rain. 

“You okay, big guy?” you asked before moving closer to Joel. 

“I’m alright,” he smiled, but it didn’t quite meet his eyes. There wasn’t any real concrete evidence that something was off, but something inside you told you that something definitely was off. 

“You sure?” you asked, squeezing his bicep. 

“Yeah, it’s just,” he paused, looking down at his book as if he was about to go right back to reading instead of telling you the issue. After a moment of hesitation, he spoke once more, “it’s the anniversary of Diane leaving.”

Oh. So that’s why he’d asked to be with you today.

You’d never heard Joel say her name before. Sure, you’d seen her name written under a polaroid or two, but you’d never heard Joel reference her ever. Now that you thought about it, you didn’t really know what their deal was. Amicable exes? Divorcees? Was Joel a widower? You felt awful that you’d gone this far into a relationship and still didn’t know anything about his last significant one. 

“I’m sorry,” you said quietly, not completely sure how to react. You mainly wanted to get a gauge on Joel’s reaction–just how upset was he? Did he want to talk about it? Or just get the importance of the day out in the open?

“It’s just… Today feels like that day in a lot of ways.”

You nodded slowly, still not exactly sure of how to approach the situation. You thought back to all of the times he’d been there to support you when you were having a rough day, and ended up asking aloud, “is there anything I can do to make you feel better?” 

“Maybe just listening, if that’s okay. It helps to talk about it,” he paused. “The rolls smell done. I’ll go get them,” with that, he was off to the kitchen, barely giving you time to react, or even protest his departure.

He clearly wanted to talk, but just wasn’t completely ready to do so at that moment. You could listen. You could be the best damn listener on the planet if that was what Joel needed from you. No matter what he revealed to you today, you were determined to make Joel feel comfortable, and know that whatever he was going through, he wasn’t alone—just as he’d shown you in the past.

By the time he came back to the living room, Joel offered you a plate with an iced cinnamon roll and acted like everything was normal. He sat back down next to you, stole a bite from your plate, then buried his nose right back into his novel.

You respected his right to process his emotions in any way he saw fit. All you could do was be a good partner, and offer whatever he needed from you to feel better, like he’d done for you so many times before. 

While you were fine with spending your day cuddled up on the sofa and reading, you were also aware that there were a good amount of house chores that were calling your name. Upon mentioning these tasks, Joel insisted on helping out, which was how you two landed in the laundry room, laughing at something stupid that had happened to you this week. 

While you loaded light clothes into your washer, Joel suddenly caught you off guard with a question that was a far cry from the banter you’d just been having only moments before. 

“Is it… are you okay with me talking about it?”

By it you could only assume he meant the giant elephant of a woman in the room. 

“Of course,” you turned to him, offering sympathetic eyes. 

“She left just a few months after Sarah was born,” Joel busied himself by pouring out laundry detergent and fabric softeners. “I just woke up one morning to an empty bed and a note in the kitchen saying she was leaving, she wasn’t coming back, and not to look for her.”

You were taken aback by the cruelty of such an abrupt ending, especially with such a young infant. You couldn’t imagine being put in those circumstances so unexpectedly. 

Joel casually poured the respective liquids into their proper places in the machine, then turned it on. “It was a day just like this. The nursery had a nice, big window that we put a rocking chair in front of. Sarah liked looking at the stars when she was younger, it always helped to calm her down. I remember holding her in that chair and bawling my eyes out while she cried too, and with all the rain against the window… it felt like the Earth was crying right along with us.”

You weren’t sure what to say or how to react, but it seemed like Joel was prepared to move right on, quickly changing the subject as he led you out of the laundry room. 

Baking cinnamon rolls had left a lot of dishes in the sink, but luckily for you, you had an extra set of hands to help you out. Joel was on rinsing duty, and you were on loading.

You quickly found your rhythm, as you often did with partnered tasks. You worked quietly while loading the dishes, letting the music from your speaker fill up the silence, but it was obvious Joel was lost in thought.

Eventually, he quietly began to speak again, “I kept trying to make sense of her leaving. I knew that postpartum depression hit her really hard, and that she was barely sleeping at night because of how often Sarah was crying. Sarah was a really sensitive, fussy baby. She’d told me how she’d felt a few times, and I always kinda thought things would just pass. Every new parent hits that roadbump where they just can’t see themselves doing this thing forever, right? Then, she just left. I thought maybe she just needed a few days away, and that she’d be back. But days went by, then weeks, then it had been a month, and it was still just Sarah and I.”

“Did she ever come back around?” you asked, setting down the last dish into the sink, then closing the machine.

“Never heard from her again.”

You closed the distance between you and the man, wrapping him in as tight of a hug that you could manage. 

“I’m so sorry,” you muttered into his shirt as he melted into your embrace. “I can’t even imagine how painful and stressful that was.”

As a mother, you couldn’t imagine abandoning your child; the tiny human being you spent nine months carrying, and would spend a lifetime loving. But as a human, you understood the stress of being the parent of a newborn. Waking up every few hours because your baby is crying and you’ve tried everything to get her to stop but she just… won’t. Paired with postpartum depression, which you were no stranger to, you could understand the circumstances that led Diane to feeling like she had no other option but to leave. But that didn’t, in any way, make it the right thing to do. 

As you held Joel, a sound you hadn’t ever heard from him escaped his lips, wracking his body. A guttural cry that had clearly been trapped deep inside of him for the longest time had suddenly escaped as he recalled an event that had clearly changed his life. 

You stood in the kitchen holding him for what felt like forever, when he finally pulled away, wiping his face a little bit. 

“Thank you,” was all that he managed to get out.

You laid next to him in bed after a rather emotionally loaded session of lovemaking, trying to catch your breath as the two of you recovered from the underlying emotional and physical aftermath of your fornication. As Joel spooned you, a question lingered on your mind. 

“Do you still love her?” you asked, keeping your eyes forward on the wall. You wanted to say you were sure he had moved on, but these types of situations were rather nuanced. There were just some bonds that regardless of time or circumstances, people continued to hold on to. 

“No,” he answered clearly. “I don’t hate her, either. I guess I just understand her. But that doesn’t make what she put me or Sarah through any better.” 

You slipped your hand down to where his were currently laying on your stomach, and you set one on top of his. 

“I’m not jealous, I’m just curious. Do you ever miss her?” 

“I used to,” he sighed, the close breath blowing some hairs on your neck. “I don’t anymore.”

Eventually, your laundry was dry, meaning you two needed to get out of bed and get to folding. 

“She has a new family, now,” he said out of the blue, as he folded up a pair of your pajama pants. “Husband, kids, dog, the full nine yards. Tommy found her Facebook a few years ago, but I still haven’t looked. I don’t really know why.”

You didn’t really know why either, but you knew exactly the feeling he was experiencing. Seeing your ex who you’d invested so much into and had a child with move on with someone was a particularly gut wrenching feeling. You could only imagine how much worse it was in Joel’s scenario, where Diane had abandoned him and their child, yet had a child and built another family elsewhere. 

“Does Sarah know?” you asked, putting a blouse onto a hanger. 

“Bits and pieces. She kinda just accepted that her mom’s not in the picture, but doesn’t know why she left or anything about her mom’s new family,” Joel finished up with his basket, then began to help you with yours. “Maybe when she’s older. Old enough to understand that it isn’t her fault and that these things just… happen sometimes.”

“I guess,” you frowned as you grabbed your last article of clothing and hung it up. “It shouldn’t have happened, though. Neither of you deserved to be abandoned.”

“It was gonna happen one way or another,” Joel shrugged, putting your baskets away. “Our relationship had been on the rocks even before Diane became pregnant. If it wasn’t then, it would be later. I’m just glad it happened early enough that Sarah doesn’t remember. You in the mood for a coffee?”

His words gave you a bit of whiplash, but you accepted the offer of a warm drink regardless. 

You sat at your table, stirring your drink as Joel sat down across from you. 

“Good, right?” he asked. “I think I’ve officially nailed the way you like your coffee.”

“It’s pretty good,” you admitted, taking a sip from a mug that Chloe had decorated in her school’s art class. 

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Good. It is one,” you hummed. 

It was clear that his mood was slightly improving the more that he talked about his experience. You wondered just how much of this information he’d shared with anyone else before you, as he told the story as if he were confessing something for the first time ever. 

“I’ve never told anyone this much about it,” he confessed. “I’m glad that of all the people I could’ve told, it ended up being you.”

“Joel, I,” the words popped into your head, but died on your tongue. “I care about you so much. I know this can’t be easy to talk about, so thank you for sharing this with me,” you squeezed his hands across the table. 

“Thank you for being so supportive. I also care about you a lot. So much that it scares me. Especially knowing that you could lose everything in a literal night,” he admitted. 

“Oh Joel,” you said softly. “I’m also scared. I’m always so scared that I’ll lose you and Sarah and this little blended family we’ve made. But if that’s the price I pay for… caring about you so much, I’m okay with being afraid.”

Joel looked at you like he had something to say, but instead sat there quietly for a moment, processing your words. “Do you want to watch an episode of The Bachelorette?” 

“Is that even a question? C’mon,” you stood up.

The two of you cuddled up on the couch once again, this time with a much lighter feeling in the room, partially due to what Joel had confessed to you, and partially due to the absolutely ridiculous content playing on your television.

“I’m sad that I had to go through what I had to go through, but I’m glad that it led me to you,” Joel said out of the blue, resting his forehead against yours.

You were glad that he found you too.

Five

It wasn’t every day that the forces of the universe seemed to be on your side, but for some reason, today was one of those days. 

When you’d been called into your boss’ office that morning, a pit formed in your stomach. You’d figured that the day you were going to be laid off was coming, especially following the whole promotion fiasco. As you walked into her office, you fully intended to be walking out without a job. 

Except, that wasn’t what happened. You had been promoted, and promoted into a position even higher than the one you’d previously been gunning after. 

Once you found out, you had to fight the urge to skip out of your boss’s office, singing and dancing with joy. Instead, you fought that urge by closing the door to your office, and calling Joel. 

“Hey honey, what’s up?” he answered casually. 

“Joel, they promoted me! And it’s an even better position than what I was trying to get before!” you squealed. 

Joel cheered from over the phone, making you somehow smile even harder. “Congratulations! I’m so proud of you. I can’t think of anyone who deserves this more than you.”

“Oh my god, stop it,” you giggled, putting your hands up to your warm cheeks. 

“No, I’m serious,” Joel countered. “I know a lot of hard workers, and none of them work as hard as you. You’ve sacrificed so much to get here and it’s finally paid off.”

“Thank you, Joel,” you had more to say, but you decided to keep it to yourself. Mainly, how did you get so lucky to end up with a man like him? 

“Are you busy tonight?” he asked. 

“I’m just dropping Chloe off at my mom’s, then I should be free for the evening. Why?”

“Why don’t you come over to my place so we can celebrate? You picked the right time to get a promotion. Sarah’s going to her uncle’s for the weekend.”

“Sounds good to me,” you hummed. “I’ll text you when I’m heading over.”

“Alright. Again, congratulations! So proud.”

You hung up and attempted to get back to work, but you were far too excited to focus for too long. You somehow made it to the end of the work day and to Joel’s house without spontaneously combusting from joy.

When you walked in, you were immediately met with the smells of one of your favorite candles, mixed with the mouthwatering scent of fragrant coming from the kitchen. 

“Joel, I’m home!” you announced, making your way to the kitchen only to find it very dressed up. The lights were dimmed, a crisp white table cloth rested on the table, and a gorgeous arrangement of flowers sat in a vase in the middle of the table, right next to a rather nice looking bottle of champagne. 

Joel was finishing up plating something spectacular as you came in. “Please, have a seat,” he directed. You didn’t need to be told twice. 

With the arrangement of the table, you almost felt like you were sitting at a fancy little restaurant, but better, knowing all the effort Joel had put into making the table look this way.  He brought over two plates, set one over at his seat and one in front of you, before leaning down and kissing you gently. 

“Congratulations. I am so, so, so proud of you,” he said after finally pulling away, reaching for the bottle of champagne on the table.

“If anyone in the world deserves good things,” he turned away from you so that he could safely pop the bottle. “It’s you. I’m glad you’re finally getting the recognition that you deserve.”

With the bottle opened, he poured you out a glass, then poured himself some. You lifted up your glass and Joel mirrored you.

“Cheers,” you said with a grin, tapping your glasses together, then taking a sip. Once you finished drinking, Joel leaned in for one more kiss before he situated himself back into his chair. 

“I think you deserve a promotion from best boyfriend in the world to best boyfriend in the universe,” you softly laughed, looking down at your plate. 

“Do I? I think anyone would celebrate the person they…” he paused for just a split second, and you probably wouldn’t have noticed it if you weren’t paying such close attention. “The person they’re sharing their life with if they made a big accomplishment like this.”

“Honey, you’d be very surprised. I can think of at least one person who would view this promotion as a bad thing.”

“Well, don’t think about them right now. This is an amazing thing, and we’re celebrating you today. Not an insecure man with a Napoleon complex and a small penis.”

You laughed out loud, nearly choking on a bubbly sip of champagne. 

“You’re right,” you picked up your fork and knife, reading to dig into the amazing looking meal in front of you. “Thank you for this, Joel. You always make me feel so appreciated and cherished. You’re truly one of a kind.”

He shook his head bashfully at the compliment, eating right along with you. It was almost cute how he never seemed to accept compliments, but certainly deserved them more than basically any other person that you knew. 

“You always show me how much you care about me. It’s only fair that I do the same.”

“You’re so romantic,” you sighed. “How can I guarantee that I can keep you around forever?”

“Just keep being you, I guess. That’s all I’ve really ever wanted.”

How did you get so lucky? How did you manage to hit the jackpot on men with Joel, almost let it slip through your fingers not once, but twice, and still managed to end up with one of your favorite people in the world? 

However it ended up happening, you certainly weren’t mad at it, and as you sat together, you hoped for things never to change. 

Plus One

Given that you practically lived at each other’s homes now, you often spent your mornings together getting ready to take on the day. It was cute how you both had your own little routines and were able to coexist in a tiny little space. 

Today, you stood in Joel’s bathroom, washing your face as the mirror across from you began to become progressively more foggy from the heat of Joel’s shower. 

“My hair is gonna be so frizzy,” you muttered to yourself as you rubbed moisturizer into your skin. 

“Hey, you’re the one who wanted to come in here with me,” Joel shot back from the shower, turning the water off. 

“Whatever,” you grumbled, getting back to work on your face as Joel dried himself off and wrapped a towel around his waist. 

“You’re so cute when you’re grumpy in the morning,” he commented as he approached you, standing next to you at the sink. 

“I am not grumpy,” you argued, then paused once Joel gave you a very disbelieving expression. “Fine. I can get a little irritable in the morning. Especially when someone’s boiling hot showers make my hair get all frizzy.”

“I wonder who that someone is?” Joel looked around the room in faux confusion. 

“Ugh, shut up. You are such a dad,” you fought back laughter, but you couldn’t really help the smile that appeared on your lips. 

“Shutting up,” Joel acknowledged, grabbing his razor and some shaving cream to touch up some of his facial hair. You began to brush your teeth, focusing on yourself in the mirror to make sure that you were making your dentist proud. 

Your eyes eventually migrated and were meeting Joel’s in the mirror. You flashed him a big, foamy grin, and he immediately broke into hysterics, setting the razor down so he didn’t cut himself while laughing so hard. 

“Really?” he asked between laughs. “While I’m shaving?”

“Sorry,” you shrugged with a self-satisfied smirk. 

“You are such a dork,” Joel sighed as he calmed himself down, leaning against the counter as he began to work on shaving his face once more. “Ugh, I love you,” the words seemed to come out of his mouth involuntarily, if the horrified look on his face told you anything. 

It seemed like the whole house stopped after Joel said it, the dripping from the showerhead ceasing, the faint buzz of the air conditioner nowhere to be found, and the noises of your children downstairs coming to a halt.

You were shocked at the admission, and Joel seemed to be shocked that he’d said anything. 

Now that he’d mentioned it, you really did love Joel. You loved how he supported you, and how he treated your daughter like she was his own. You loved that he wasn’t afraid to fight for what he believed in, especially when that included socking your ex in the face. You loved his ability to be vulnerable with you, and the way that he seemed to always know what to say at the right time. You loved knowing that no matter how shitty of a day you’d had, Joel would always be there, ready to order your favorite foods and spoon you while decompressing with the worst, most trashy reality TV you could find. 

You’d spent all this time thinking that you’d never experience romantic love again, that romantic love was tumultuous and exhausting, when you’d been in love with Joel the whole time. 

You were one of those people who were meant to love and be loved. Joel had proven that much to you. 

“I love you too,” you confessed, toothpaste still obstructing your mouth.

Maybe love wasn't so bad after all.

[unsuredreamer]

I will always love you

Chloe Charming 💙 x fem! reader

requested! but i changed a bit

i feel like it's kinda shit, but you can let me know whatcha think!

"Look at them honey, they are perfect for each other. Just like us" Charming calmly exhaled. The both of them, along with your parents admiring how you and your best friend of the whole universe danced together. Two 8 year olds just holding hands and spinning around, hugging, trying to make up new steps.

"We can try to this song! My momma and dad always sing it" Little Chloe yelled trying to find the right rythm to their newest invention of a dance.

"What is it, Chlo?" You yelled in excitement still holding her hand. There was a whole party thrown for your birthday but you didn't want to dance with anyone else. This little girl and her blue dress seemed to be enough for you. Not even the biggest cake with lots of frosting would make you as excited as being told you'll see your favorite girl again.

"So it goes like, mhmh-wait I don't remember. Mommy!" She swiftly ran off, you right after her.

"Yes babygirl?"

"Could you sing that one song you sing with daddy? I want to dance with Y/n. You always say it's special, i want to dance with her to it. Make it special too!" The little girl grinned, her storm of blue locks forbidding her from seeing anything, making her throw them to the side every now and then.

"So this is love?" Cinderella hummed, giggling in the process.

"Yes! Yes! That one!"

As Ella continued humming the rest of the parents could not help themselves to not be in awe at the sight before them. You both truly were soulmates, platonic or not, there's no denying it.

-

"Fuck you! Why are you so rude to me?" Chloe yelled

"Well I wouldn't have to be if you weren't a stuck up princess all the god damn time!"

"I am a stuck up princess..?"

"Chloe no I-. Fuck!"

-

"Hey little bluey girl right here, you're looking really good today, wanna hang after school?" The other son of Hook, Thomas, has appeared before your 'friend' holding her chin up with his piece of rusted metal. It was not gold, let's not fool anyone. And it certainly did not pass down on him his fathers charms. Only this horrible accent of his.

What would that douchebag want from her? You thought watching from afar. Your blood boiling hot at the sight. Glaring daggers, you thought of all the ways to kill him. He doesn't seem to want to let go. Hitting on the poor girl since the begging of the year. Despite the desperate attempts of Red trying to scare him off.

"I'm sorry, I'm actually quite busy, I was.." The charming princess stopped and looked at her friend for help.

"Supposed to help me...with something" Red butt in sensing her friends pleads.

"It's alright I can help too, so what are we doing?" The bloke grinned not letting go

"It's girly stuff so we'd rather-"

"Well, I've been round women my whole life babygirl, so i believe i should know a thing or two" His grin getting bigger. What a shithead. Take a hint bro.

"I mean, It's-It will be-I"

"All good blu, I know you want me there" He winked getting closer to her. She was looking rather uncomfortably, slowly backing off. He was atrocious, she would never want to do anything with him. Would she?

Even if she was to be paid for it, she'd never wish to look at him. Chloe's eyes squeezed shut at the growing feeling in her stomach. Her heart beating rapidly in her chest.

"Hey back off bro" You claimed, right on time, pushing him away from almost kissing the princess of Cinderellasburg. Standing in between him and the girl he was basically harassing. You felt her hand find it's way to yours, squeezing it tightly. Her breath shaky on your neck, you felt the anger burst out of you like a volcano.

"Becauseee what?" He smirked, coming even closer "I'm just trying to flirt with my girl here" His eyes wandered around your body settling on Chloe's, her hand squeezing yours even tighter. As much as if cutting the blood flow from your limb was intentional.

"She's my girlfriend, so you better back off little shrimp before I gut you out just like my father did yours" You threatened, showing him your sharp canines in a fearful smile. They were all that was left after this little bibbidi bobbidy boo the young fairy godmother accidentally performed on you when you went back in time with the girls. She was not the brightest fairy back then let's say.

-

"Bibbidi bobbidy boo! OH! I'm so sorry!" Fay yelled "I'm gonna fix this, I'm gonna fix this!"

"Don't! You've done too much, leave it" You growled looking at yourself, full of fur with sharp claws sticking out.

"You look rather cute as a wolf!" Bridget butt in, smiling from ear to ear. Petting your back.

"Shut up!" You yelled, shrugging her hand off "I'm a beast not a wolf"

"Yeah yeah, whatever you say man" Ella snarled "I mean girl, sorry"

"Yeah, fuck off" You stormed out of the building glaring at anyone you saw on your way, your dear friend running after you. She wanted to help you, tell you you were not bad, and actually kind of nice looking as a beast. Maybe even give you a few belly rubs to make you finally smile " Go away Chloe"

"But Y/n, you-"

" I said go away!" You roared, scaring the poor girl. You did not want her to look at you in that state. You were a monster.

-

"Geez, you're crazy. But don't worry I won't take your owner, dog" Thomas laughed after his annoying bark walking away.

"Fucking dumbass" Red snickered under her breath, raising her eyebrow

"Thank you Y/n, really" Chloe smiled warmly

"All good" You just muttered coldly. Usually you'd be more harsh to the Charming princess, to Red, your brother, basically everyone. But you felt the anger slowly falter.

You began to act like that around your fourteenth birthday. Something happened to ypu and you hadn't quite known yourelf what happened. To make you feel so much anger. To make you act so heartless, cold, to be so harsh and truthful to the point it hurts others. It was like a switch in you, being played with for months and left on the side that made everything turn dark. Deep down you dont want to be that way, you know it. But it's like a shell has began to form around your heart, your skin getting ten times thicker forbidding your true character out int the broad daylight.

Were you cursed?

You did not want to be that way with Chloe, she was the dearest to you. But you've already hurt her so much. It made your heavy with guilt heart ache.

Why couldn't you look in her eyes? They were the most beautiful eyes you've ever looked into. But somehow you were too ashamed to look at her, to even glance.

She was pretty, too pretty for you.

too good for you.

As she looked at you with that kind look in her eyes, you could not fathom how was she even able to talk to you still. Be so nice, after you literally abandoned her. It was never your intention to let go of this beautiful soul, but something pulled the strings on you. Making you not be yourself. You hated that. You hated yourself.

-

"i hate what you've become, I miss the way we laughed together, and how you held me. Everything we've done"

"Okay" I miss you more Chloe.

"Come back to me please, break out of this Y/n. I'm waiting. I'm always gonna want you back"

-

Days have passed, you two faking being a couple for the sake of Thomas leaving Chloe alone. The whole school whispering about this unusual romance.

Her hand found yours in the middle of the corridor upon all of these eyes looking at you. You felt awkward. It was truly awkward as she whispered to you.

"Y/n, act normally. I can feel your hand sweat soaking mine"

Slamming her back on the lockers you couldn't help but almost graze her lips "Then let go of my hand and just kiss me, we'll be done with that whole show" You blurted out, not realizing what have you just said.

"Are you insane?" That was exactly what she wanted.

" I think i might be...about you" you muttered the last part under your breath.

"They are so gonna talk about it" The blue haired princess breathed, her cheeks turning deep red.

"Well, that's why we're doing this right?"

-

And yet another argument burst out between you two.

How could someone be so stupidly, obviously in love with each other and argue on top of that? Whilst also being in a relationship? Fake, yes, but still.

You have to make up eventually though, right? You need to.

"Chloe.." You blurted out.

"Yes?" She answered with hope in her eyes, she was tired of this too. She missed you like hell and the worst part is, she didn't even know why you acted this way. You just stopped talking to her, stopped hanging out, became more distant and kind of floated away. She tried to bring you back a few times, but no luck. As if something was holding you hostage.

Oh how you loved her hopeful eyes. Always cheery, always positive. She was like a beam of sunlight on a dark day. A singular ray lightning up the whole world for you. You loved dark days but she was much better than that. Much better than anything and anyone you've ever loved.

So why couldn't you say it to her? scream at the top of your lungs how much you love her.

"Do you want to go out with me? After classes, go for a little walk?" You asked unsurely, would she want to? After all you've put her through? And now, faking being her lover? That's like an arow straight through the heart. Injesting itself like a poison flowing in her veins.

"Sure" she gave you a small nod. Just a small nod.

That way, you spent all of your remaining classes rethinking all the bad things you've said to her. All the mean things you've done. And how you could make the plane turn right around. How you could show her you're sorry. Apologize. But your mouth was doing something completely different than your soul wished to come out.

"You know it's really annoying, knowing you can't stick up for yourself. Like a child."

Chloe tried to stay calm, walking by your side when you broke the awkward silence, but she could not let go of these growing feelings, buzzing in her head with every second her hand grazed yours as you spat those harsh words at her. Is she annoying? Is that what you imply? Suddenly she burst out as she couldn't contain herself anymore,

"Tell me! Tell me what did i do wrong?! I can't believe you've been this icy, son of a bitch to me for the past, what, two years?! It's like we've never been best friends. You know how bad it hurt me? Having you be so cold to me after all those years spent everyday together? You were the closest person to my heart and you walked away from it. I cried nights colliding with your freezing stare after tasting the previous sun coming out of you. You were like swording to me, and now i don't even enjoy that! Everything I do reminds me of all the things we have done together. The simplest walks and these hard quests our dad's used to prepare for us just to get us out of the castle. Coming home just to eat a nice sandwich from my momma, split in half, the other for you. Never have I ever eaten the other half, even after you stopped coming to hang-out. The gut wrenching, sickening feeling in my stomach forbid me from eating for days. Even Chad has been asking for you, yes, this annoying little prince whos been bugging us everyday, missed you too. You turned away from me, why from me Y/n? You were everything i had. And you took it away" Chloe spat out the last sentence, giving you one last look before turning away and running till her legs gave up. Not giving you a chance to reedem yourself. Collapsing on the ground crying her heart out.

It was broken. It was broken by you. But she wanted you to be the person to piece it back together. She's been hurt by you but she wanted nothing more than to feel your comfort. You were the bad person, but how wrong of her was to want only you in her life? To feel your love? To feel your touch?

"Hey boo, what's wrong?" Red whispered into Chloes hair after dropping on the floor right beside her. Clinging hard onto her knight, so the blue would feel that support. She didn't know if that was right but thats what she heard is supposedto help.

"Y/n.." Was all that the Wonderlandian could make up from Charming's sobs.

She knew the situation between you two was tense hence all she did was just be there for her friend. Holding her, listening to her on and on rambles, how you're the worst, but also the best. It confused her, how this many feelings could be stored in such a small body.

"And it's so frustrating! Infuriating!" Chloe yelled pacing around the room, throwing her hands in every direction. Her emotions changing 10 times in the span of minutes. If Red didn't take her sword that would be the thing she'd be gesturing with.

"Yea-"

"She says one thing then all of a sudden she's got me spinning, clasped in her touch. Messing with my head like I'm some kind of a toy?" she was irritated, confused, sad. "You know what? I'm gonna go and sp-"

"No, no, Chloe, chill out first" Red tried to calm her but her friend was already at the door, swinging it open revealing someone standing in the frame.

"Um-Chlo?" She froze in place.

"Y/n"

"I was about to knock, i promise i did not eavesdrop" You offered a small smile.

"Good. What are you here for?" Her harsh tone made you wince

"Can we talk alone?" You asked looking briefly at the princess of Wonderland. She just nodded her head walking swiftly out of the room. "Listen Chloe. I'm sorry"

"Woah, deep coming from you Y/n, after two years" She remarked, crossing her arms on her chest. Looking anywhere but you

"I really am, I know it wil not change anything. But-" You breathed in, "I try to stop these harsh words from coming out, but i feel like a puppet. Like someone who is just controlled by others. Like I'm not myself. And i haven't been since I went to these woods" You sharply exhaled. Chloe shifted closer to you, sensing your truthfulness. "I fell like I've been cursed Chloe" You gazed into her eyes, your own brimming with tears. She immediately pulled you into a deep hug. She knew it wasn't you, you have always been a sweetheart. How could she not be there for you?

"It's okay"

"It really is not Chlo" You pulled away from her comforting arms, taking her hand in yours. The brief, delicate touch made Chloe spin, her mind cloud and her sight to blurry. Her body got hot and her heart thumped in her chest. "I thought, about complimenting you at least 5 times a day but i couldn't muster up the courage to break through" You admitted.

"You did?" Your soft tone of voice made her swoon, she missed you so bad.

"I did love. I wanted to scream because my mouth did the complete opposite" You giggled, but there was nothing to really giggle at "You know, you are absolutely wonderful"

"You think so?"

"Chloe, you're the most amazing, talented, smart and beautiful girl I've ever known. Of course you are" you smiled, taking her head in your hands, swiping your thumb over her rosy cheek.

"I love you" The Charming princess blurted out "I'm sorry, I'm so stupid"

"Chloe, Chloe, calm down" You tried getting her to stop shaking her head but it was no use. She was like a storm, unmanageable. So you did the only thing you could think of a the moment.

Getting closer your lips touched hers. Making her stop everything and hum into the kiss. She was frozen, her heart rate hitting skies, when she finally realized what was happening. Your mouths moved in synchronization as your hands found her neck pulling her even closer.

The kiss was slow, savoring every single second as you tried to pour all of your feelings into it. Her lips so soft and her tounge entangling with yours. It made you want more and more.

But you had to pull away, keeping her chin high up in your palm. Her little smile and kind brown eyes looking up at you made you burst out with happiness from the inside. Her hands hooked around your neck playing with your hair.

"I love you Chloe" You promised, planting one peck to her lips. The girl closed her eyes and nodded her head, telling you silently she knew.

She always knew, that's why she waited for your love.

[runningfrom2am]

Okay! Ik ur not talking request rn but I’ve had this thought for a lil bit but rafe w hs Teacher!reader, who he likes to visit during her lunch time aka study hall time, and the students adore him and like since it’s hs the girls like find his so attractive( bc mf is) 🤭

okay this request is SO self-indulgent for me bc i'm like a year out from becoming a hs teacher myself like AH that's the dream so i love you so so much for this whoever you are i could give you the biggest hug rn thank you so so much for this idea!!

study hall - r.c.

pairing: husband!rafe x teacher!reader

wc: 1.6k

tags/warnings: fluff and almost nothing else. rafe is a perfect boyfriend bc,, duh? also not very canon of him honestly.

requests currently closed but feel free to send stuff in! it just might take me a while to get around to it :)

nav/masterlists

"Okay that's the lecture, we've got about a minute before the bell here... does anyone have any questions?" You finish up your slides, checking the time briefly as you close up the powerpoint from your laptop and turn off the projector.

A couple of hands shoot up and you gaze over the class waiting briefly for anymore. "Okay, we'll do Max, and then Lacy. Fire off." You point to the two of them in order.

"Can we get an extension on the essay?" Max asks quickly and you laugh. "It's not due for another week! How can you be behind already?" Judging by the reaction of the rest of the class chattering off their agreement, you nod. "Okay, okay. Fine. Yes, you can hand it in on the Monday instead of Friday, but that is giving you two extra days so I won't be giving any more extensions. Got it?"

Collectively the class sighs in relief, a chorus of thank you's and chatter following. "Okay, Lacy, you had a question?" You interrupt everyone to ask, thinking maybe someone else might have the same question and want to hear the answer.

"Is Mr. Cameron coming to study hall today?" She asks, round cheeks flushed as the other girls in the class whip their heads towards you to listen.

"Okay." You laugh, sitting down in your chair content that you won't need to pull up any slides to revisit anything. "Thank you for reminding me, I do have study hall today so if anybody does have any serious questions about the lecture or the essay please hang around after the bell." You say, avoiding most of the question.

You hear the voice of almost every girl in the class speak up at once, all resulting in more or less the same question about whether or not your boyfriend would be coming again to eat with you like he usually does on Fridays.

He was very popular among the girls you taught, which doesn't surprise you. You'd be lying if you said your boyfriend wasn't ridiculously handsome, but it was sometimes a point of contention with the other faculty you worked with. They thought it was extremely unprofessional that he would come in just for the girls to ogle at- but strangely it wasn't a problem when they had their partners come in for lunch at the same time. You knew it wasn't your fault and you weren't doing anything wrong, but just a result of upset from them designating study hall for students and many girls would spend time in your class instead during the lunch hour.

Just then the bell rang, and many students began packing up to leave either to go to other classes for study or to the cafeteria to grab something to eat.

"Alright! Don't forget the readings for next class, please, I may or may not be quizzing you on it just to make sure! Have a good day everyone!" You call out over the loud sounds of students filling the halls and talking.

You sigh with a smile and grab your water bottle, taking a sip to ease your dry throat after an hour of non-stop talking. You look up, humming in acknowledgement at the three girls leaning over your desk. "Question?" You ask, already knowing what they're after.

"Is Mr. Cameron coming?" Lacy's friend, Chloe asks and you smile, shrugging.

"Maybe, you'll have to stay for my study hall to find out."

"Come on just tell us!" Lacy groans, but before you can respond you're interrupted by a knock on your door frame.

"Ms. Y/L/N, I brought your lunch." You smile at your boyfriend standing at the door, lunch bag and coffee in hand.

"Hi." You chuckle, looking at the girls knowingly who already look like they're melting. You get up and greet him at the door, grabbing another chair to pull over to your desk for him to join you.

“Hi Mr. Cameron.” Lacy smiles, sitting down in the desk closest to yours and batting her lashes at him.

“Hi there.” Rafe says politely with an awkward smile, digging through the lunch bag he brought for you and handing you snacks out of it.

“Girls, go get your lunches, please.” You tell them, and they all somehow simultaneously roll their eyes.

“You just want us to leave so you can be alone with your boyfriend.” Chloe teases you and you laugh, shaking your head.

“No, I want you to go get your lunches so you can give your bodies the nutrients they need to learn. I’m not going to be held responsible for you girls missing meals.” You reply sincerely before taking a sip of your coffee. “And I promise, Mr. Cameron will still be here when you get back. Now, go.”

You gesture to the door and the girls sigh, getting up and filing out the door.

“You’re the only reason I ever have anyone in my study hall.” You giggle quietly once they’re gone. “There are no girls in study hall on Monday or Wednesday.”

“No way, Ms. Y/L/N is their favourite teacher, obviously.”

“Or my class is the hardest and my very hot boyfriend comes to eat with me during Friday study hall.”

“Your class is easy!” Rafe laughs, reaching up to brush away some hair that stuck to your cheek as you’re eating.

“You’ve never taken it, how would you know?”

“Well, if you were my teacher when I was in school… I’d be in here every day. “The boys don’t come on Fridays because they’re jealous of me…” He says smugly, leaning in to kiss your cheek.

You blush as you playfully push him away, glancing towards the open door to make sure no students saw. “Yeah, you’d be in here because you’d need help with Shakespeare, and they do too.”

Rafe gasped in mock offense, then shakes his head. “That’s messed up. I’m offended.”

You shrug. “It’s tough stuff if you’ve never read it before.”

“We’re back!” You both look up at the door as Lacy and her friends make their way back in, lunches in hand this time. “Did you miss us?”

“Welcome back, ladies. Did you bring some homework with you?” You ask, raising an eyebrow at them.

“Duh, Ms. Y/L/N. Who do you think we are?”

“I just wanted to make sure. Study hall is for studying, not chatting.”

They all get comfy in their seats around the desk across from yours, phones immediately out with no work to be seen.

“Hey, Mr. Cameron?” Chloe asks, leaning on her upturned palm as she grabs his attention and he hums in acknowledgement. “What’s your first name?”

“Rafe.” He answers, not thinking for a second that maybe it’s not allowed.

“That’s a great name. Like, really cool.” Lacy sighs, smiling at him.

“Why, thank you.” Rafe grins, nudging your shoulder. He eats this attention up every time, and it’s fun to joke about when you’re at home- but sometimes you think it’s bad for his ego.

“Can we call you Rafe?”

“If you want.” He shrugs.

“No, nope. He’s Mr. Cameron to you, sorry to disappoint.” You chuckle.

“But he said we can call him that!” Chloe whines, looking at you pleadingly.

“Sure, but the school board says otherwise. As long as we’re on school grounds you don’t even know his name, got it?”

“Yes ma’am.” They agree, giggling to themselves. “It’ll be our secret. Scouts honour.”

“None of you are scouts!” You laugh.

The girls just look at each other and shrug.

By now other students have filtered in, and luckily with tests coming up in all your blocks, a lot of studying is actually happening and less harassing of your boyfriend.

“Hey,” Rafe whispers, leaning closer to you which draws the attention of the girls in the front row who are straining to listen. “Can we take the yacht out this weekend? Maybe go for dinner or something on the mainland?” He whispers, smiling at you hopefully.

“Yeah, that would be nice. We could make a weekend out of it, I don’t have much grading to do.” You agree quietly and he seems excited, smiling and patting your leg before returning to his book that he had just picked up off your desk to skim through while you ate.

Come Monday morning, you’re getting ready for the bell to ring to signal the start of the first block. Once your whiteboard is ready with the notes for the day, you smile to yourself in anticipation as you sip your coffee. The bell rings, and students are quick to make their way in and to their desks.

“Oh. My. God.” Lacy stops in her tracks at the door, holding her arms out in front of her friends on either side of her as she stares at the whiteboard, and then looks over to you. “You’re joking!” She almost screams, clapping excitedly and running up to your desk to examine your hand while all the other students look up to the board in confusion, hoping for some answers as to what Lacy and Chloe are squealing about.

On your board, you had changed your name in the corner to a short statement:

‘You can call me Mrs. Cameron’

taglist: @rafeoccasionally , @bookishbabyyy , @madelynie , @whore-4-drewstarkey , @slut4drudy , @winterrrnight , @totalswag , @sadfury , @fullfledgedemo , @rafemotherfuckingcameron , @urfaveluvr , @chenslucy , @hxnnah-397, @s-we-e-t-t-ea , @tahliac11 , @saccharinesammie , @ietss , @maybankslover , @redhead1180 , @suzyheartsrafe , @wpdailyminimeta , @aegons-bitch, @rafegirly , @lovelyxtommy, @thelomlisrafecameron , @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles , @flonkertn , @whtvrrafe

[queen-of-reptiles]

𝙿𝙰𝙶𝙴𝚂

description: Lauren runs through the same park everyday, at the same time everyday, but when she is an hour later one day, she finds her routine changing, so she can get one more look at the beauty hidden amongst pages of notes.

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lauren hemp x female reader

disclaimer: this is all fiction! Do not take any of this seriously

warnings: so much fluff omg, so much fluff, fluffffff

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y/n just posted

liked by, y/f/n1, y/f/n2, and 388 others

y/n man fuck whoever told me to study law 🤓

view 103 comments

y/f/n1: girl ik, I've just eaten a tub of ice cream, cried and banged out an essay on civil justice in the 80's. 😝

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y/n: lmao loved the add on of cried 😌

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y/f/n1: felt like it was needed ☺️

y/f/n2: I don't get how you make everything look so aesthetic??? 😩😩

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y/n: because I am deffo failing this course so might as well make it look good ! 💙

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y/f/n3: Didn't you get an A in our last test? 🤨

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y/f/n4: I am a drama kid, and even I know she's fucking dramatic 😭

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y/f/n3: Such a drama queen this one!

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y/n: I hate both of you stfu 🙄

y/bff/n: That's my best friend, she real bad bitch, she don't got no money, cause at law she's shit... 😏

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y/n: how long did that take you? 🤨

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y/bff/n: too long honestly...

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y/n: 😭😭

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Lauren was running an hour later than usual, they had quite an exhausting game yesterday, so on her day off, she usually slept in until half eight ad was running in the park by nine.

Today it was ten am, and as Lauren jogged through, music pushing her through, she paused in shock. The most beautiful girl she had ever seen was lying on a picnic blanket, basking in the warm summer sun.

Rings littered her thin fingers, as well as several necklaces which hung from her neck and over the notebook she was writing in. Jeans and a sweet flowery top covered her, the mom jeans hanging on her body.

She had wired headphones in, which Lauren found odd, but the girl didn't seem to notice her as she stared, too focused on writing whatever she was writing.

Lauren briefly though about going over, but then she realised she was messy haired, red faced, and sweaty and thought better of it. So instead, she jogged on.

But suddenly Lauren found herself changing her routine, and every day off she had, which changed, she went to the park at 10am, and every time, other than Thursdays and Tuesdays, the girl was there, buried in pages.

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After Lauren's complete fail, the next day off they had, Chloe, Alex and Jill came with her to the park, the four in relaxed outfits and hoping to sit and relax together, as well as help Lauren with this painful crush.

As they got there, the mysterious girl was already there, writing out pages and pages once again, and Jill let out a light whistle, nodding at Lauren in agreement.

The girl was hot. Chloe and Alex both sat down near her, dragging the other two with them, y/n looked up and she waved nicely at Lauren, who waved back with a smile.

Chloe sighed in relief that Lauren had at least reacted normal to that, and as y/n went back to studying the four friends started a conversation as they relaxed in the sun.

Eventually the group got up to play some football, y/n having not moved since the turned up, Chloe had hit the ball slightly hard and Lauren blanched as she ran.

The quick blonde, only manged just to get to y/n, pulling the girl who had stood up to stretch out of the way of the incoming ball the football instead hitting one of her notebooks and sending loose pages everywhere.

"Oh my god." y/n gasps.

"Sorry!" Chloe calls. "I am so sorry!" She adds again, but y/n waves a hand kindly.

"Luckily I have my guardian angel!" y/n calls, smiling at Lauren gratefully, who blushes at the sweet nickname. "Thank you." y/n adds as she bends down to pick at her papers.

Lauren kicks the ball across to Chloe who restarts their game of up, with the other two, but Lauren stays by y/n leaning down to help pick up her scattered papers.

"Oh you don't have to." y/n starts but Lauren smiles and shakes her head.

"I want to." Lauren promises as she hands the girl her papers. "Do you maybe want to get coffee sometime?" Lauren suddenly asks, as if she had been forced to say it.

Truth is, if she hadn't of said it then, she never would have. y/n looked up at her and furrowed her brows slightly, as if trying to figure something out.

"Like a date?" She asks and Lauren nods.

"Unless you don't want to." Lauren adds.

"No I want to, I was just trying to figure out why Lauren Hemp is asking me out." y/n admits and Lauren winces.

"You know who I am?" She asks and y/n shrugs.

"My best friend is a city fan, though I am more partial to Arsenal I must admit." y/n teases and Lauren pretends as she's been shot dragging and heart-breakingly beautiful laugh from the student.

"How could you?" Lauren asks jokingly and y/n laughs again.

"Quite easily, I suppose I will have to make it up to you." y/n hums. "How about a date tomorrow, after coffee today?" She asks and Lauren grins.

"Uh, yeah, yeah that would be great." Lauren smiles, a bright gleam in her eyes.

"Cool, well can I get your number then?" y/n asks and Lauren jerks forward, quickly tapping her number in and sending a message to herself.

"Do you want to go get coffee now?" Lauren asks, y/n sighing in relief and nodding.

"Please, I look at anything else about civil justice proceedings, my brain is going to self-destruct." y/n says and Lauren chuckles and looks up to tell her friends.

However, she finds no one, the three having dispersed with shared grins as Lauren and y/n started talking, finding no reason to interrupt they left.

y/n packed away her notes, throwing her highlighters into her pencil case and standing up, she smoothed out her summer dress, the article stopping just below her knees.

"You're so pretty." Lauren said without thinking, and even though she had just said it aloud, it sounded so calm and meant.

"Charmer." y/n blushed, smiling softly as she held out her hand. "Come on." She smiles and Lauren takes her hand.

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lauren_hemp just posted on her story

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y/n just posted on their story

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y/n just posted on their story

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twitter/ X

username1: has anyone seen Lauren's story???? 🤨🤨

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username2: YES - is she out on a date?

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username3: it looks like it !!!! 😏😏

username4: Lauren and a girl have been seen out in Manchester!!!

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username5: She is in my class at school!!! 😱😱

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username6: her @ is @y/n - She is so pretty! 😊

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username7: nahhh she's not 🙄🙄

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username8: yeah what if she is just using Lauren??? 😡

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username9: stfu it aint our bsuiness! 🖕

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lauren_hemp just posted

liked by, chloekelly, leahwilliamsonn, and 487, 288 others

tagged y/n

lauren_hemp So proud of you baby <3 you deserve this after all the sleepless night and pages of notes! Also happy one year love - best WAG I could have asked for!

view 13, 711 comments

username1: has it been a year already??? WOah !!

username2: feels like just yesterday we were hunting her down ...

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username3: who would have guessed how much we would love her too! ☺️☺️

leahwilliamsonn: Well done y/n!!

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y/n: Thankooooo xxx

y/bff/n: SOOoooooooOO PROUD! 💙

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y/n: love youuuuuu 💙

y/f/n1: It seems like only yesterday you were crying with dominoes saying you were going to drop out. 🥹

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y/n: what a time, what a time. 😊

username4: This is all just so cute! 🥹

chloekelly: This happened because of me just so everyone knows 👏👏

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lauren_hemp: yes lets all thank Chloe for nearly knocking out my girlfriend 🙄

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y/n: thanks Chloe! Thought she would never come and talk to me. <3

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lauren_hemp: I would have! 😶

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chloekelly: nahhhhhh ☺️

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username5: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA 😂

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END

loved this one as it is just cuteness honestly !!

-

Queenie xx

[thewanderersminuet]

I think that I could live without lungs (but I've grown tired of iron)

Rating: T

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug

Relationship: Toxigriffe

Tags: Paris Special, Feelings Realization, reverse crush, rated T for some mild language

Summary:

Toxinelle was having a very bad day.

Thank you so much to @wackus-bonkus-maximus for betaing for me! Title is from Burn and Fade by Anna Nalick

Read on AO3

Toxinelle was having a very bad day. 

First, it was school. As always, Chloe just wouldn't leave her alone. Today, she got a hold of Marinette’s sketchbook and loudly criticized every design. Marinette tried to take it back, but all she got was a detention and a ripped sketchbook.

Then she had to go out and listen to her new partner make the most obnoxious jokes. She wasn't sure which was worse, the puns or all the times he proclaimed how awesome he was. 

It was definitely the time he called himself pawesome. 

The cherry on top of this whole day had to be their most recent scuffle with Hesperia. Which they lost. 

Badly.

Her shoulder throbbed. She had been too busy arguing with Griffe Noire over her Lucky Charm to see the hit coming her way. Even Griffe winced at the sound her shoulder made when it hit the pavement. 

She dropped into an alleyway and slumped against the wall. The bricks against her back were hard. The sky above her grew dark and dreary, and the alley was completely deserted. 

It was the perfect place to let out some frustrated tears. 

She hugged her knees to her chest. She had no idea why the Supreme chose her. She wasn't cut out for this.

“Ah, there you are.” An irritatingly familiar voice interrupted her wallowing.

Toxinelle jumped up with a glare. Griffe, as always, was unfazed by her expression. He looked down to rummage through the grocery bag he’d brought. Pulling a bag of frozen peas out, he extended it towards her.

“Here.”

“What's this?” She eyed it as if it was a bomb. It might very well be; she wouldn't put it past him.

Griffe rolled his eyes. “I'm trying to help. That fall looked nasty.” 

“Why would you be trying to help me?” She turned her suspicious glare to him instead. 

“I'm a supervillain, not an asshole. Do you want it or not?” 

Hesitantly, Toxinelle reached out to take the peas. She turned away from him as she pressed the bag to her shoulder, letting the cold soothe the muscles.

“Thank you,” she mumbled. 

Griffe just hummed and took a seat against the wall. 

“I swiped some snacks from the corner store, want any?” He pulled a snack cake out of the grocery bag before holding it up to her. 

Toxinelle was flabbergasted. She could count on one hand the amount of times Griffe and her had met up, and not one of those meetings was… pleasant. They weren't friends, they were being forced to work together. 

So why was he trying to hang out with her? 

“It's going to rain,” she said. 

Griffe looked up at the sky just at the right moment for a large raindrop to hit him right between his eyes. Between the utterly undignified yelp he let out, and the look of pure bewilderment on his face, Toxinelle couldn't help herself. 

She laughed. 

For a moment, Toxinelle felt more relaxed than she had in a long time. Griffe grumbled but she could see the corners of his lips threatening to curl up into a smile. He held the bag back out to her. 

“Take this for a minute.” 

She took the bag and sat down next to him. Griffe pulled his baton off his back and pressed a button. To her surprise an umbrella popped out the end. 

“Ta-dah!” He grinned as he set it between them, making them a small shelter from the rain. 

“Show off,” she scoffed, but couldn't bring herself to keep the smile off her face. 

She knew exactly what she wanted as soon as she opened the bag and found her favorite candy bar. Still, she took her time pretending to make a decision. The longer she seemed focused on something else the longer she could put off trying to figure out how to make small talk with Griffe. 

Eventually though, she had to stop pretending. 

Silence stretched between them for an uncomfortably long time. They both took their time eating their snacks and listening to the rain hit the umbrella. Part of Toxinelle was surprised Griffe could physically be quiet for this long. 

Griffe finished his snack cake and sat back to examine the wrapper. Toxinelle noticed there was a promotion for Mecha Ultra Strike III. 

“Do you play?” she said quietly, halfway hoping he wouldn't hear her.

He blinked and looked over at her, as if he was just as surprised she’d spoken as she was. 

“Not to brag,” A grin stretched across his face in the way that told her he was absolutely about to brag. “...But I'm pretty good.”  

Toxinelle scoffed again. 

“I bet I could beat you.” 

He laughed and for a moment she feared he was laughing at her. 

“Oh we have got to figure out how to set up something on a rooftop.” His grin lit up his whole face and Toxinelle felt her face heat up. “I so want to take you up on that challenge!” 

Toxinelle decided her candy wrapper was suddenly very interesting. 

“Oh,” Griffe said, causing her to look up. “It looks like the rain stopped.” 

Disappointment settled in her gut. Did that mean he was going to leave? 

Wait. 

Why did she care? 

Griffe groaned. 

“You know what really pisses me off about that fight today?” 

Toxinelle blinked at him, confused at the subject change. 

“It's that Hesperia always gets other people to fight for him!” Griffe continued on without waiting for an answer. “I bet if he came out and fought us himself we'd have his Miraculous back no problem!” 

“Yeah…” Toxinelle relaxed. She was so used to beating herself up for failing. “He sucks.” 

Griffe laughed at that.  She tried to turn her head away to hide her smile. She hadn't said anything funny, but she still made him laugh. She felt weirdly proud. 

All too soon, however, Griffe stood up, putting his baton away. She tried to keep the disappointment from showing on her face. 

“I know neither one of us really wants to be working together,” He looked back at her. “But whether we like it or not, we're in this together.”

Reality seemed to narrow down on Griffe. Toxinelle wasn't aware of the fact that she was squeezing the bag of peas until they popped, sending frozen peas everywhere. She didn't have time to be embarrassed before he laughed again, and she found she couldn't think of anything else. 

He gave her a cheeky grin and a salute before taking off. It was only after he left that she realized her jaw had been hanging open. 

She was in trouble.

[watchmegetobsessed]

JUST HOW FAST THE NIGHT CHANGES (part 1)

A/N: i have no idea where im going with this, im literally just running into the darkness here, so be patient hehe, but here is high school reunion harry!

PAIRING: Harry x High-School-Best-Friend!Reader

WORD COUNT: 3.4k

SERIES MASTERPOST | SUPPORT ME!

You stare up at the banner once again, your eyes stopping at that one letter that’s crooked. You didn’t notice it up close when you were painting it and now it’s driving you crazy, even though Bee assured you she didn’t even notice it.

But she wouldn’t notice if you shaved your head either, so it doesn’t help the situation.

“It’s fine,” you whisper to yourself, reading the ‘Good Luck Harry!’ sign over again, the crooked letter H making fun of you before you turn your gaze away.

The whole gang is here, all of Harry’s closest friends from class. Bee is taking care of the snacks in the corner, Joshua is playing on his phone sitting on the rundown sofa, Beckham is next to him, shouting directions Josh is probably not taking and Chloe is blowing up the last balloons left while Lucas is helping her tying them, but his eyes keep wandering over to Bee just a few feet away.

It all looks and feels like a usual gathering in Chloe’s family’s basement, the place you’ve hung out at almost every day after school the past few years, but today is a special day. Harry is stepping on the road to fame tomorrow so this could easily be the last time the whole group is here together. 

“Nothing will change, maybe I’ll be out after the first round, who knows?” Harry told you several times when he saw you get sad about a possible future where he is not here or at school with you every day.

You just smiled at him every time and ignored the ache in your chest.

While Bee is the closest to you out of your group of friends, Harry has a special place in your heart. You practically grew up together, you went to the same kindergarten though you weren’t quite friends, then you became classmates and by the end of second grade your little gang was formed and your crush on Harry started your interest in boys. With his bright, light green eyes and mop of curls he woke those butterflies right up in your belly with just one smile. 

“He’s here!” Chloe’s mum calls out from upstairs and you get everyone in order, lined up under the banner as you wait for Harry to join the little party. 

You hear his muffled voice, he asks Chloe’s mum how she is as always before the door at the top of the stairs opens and his footsteps rush down until he finally comes into view.

“Surprise!” you all shout, earning a shocked expression that quickly turns into a goofy grin as he walks down the last few steps, joining the group.

“What is this?” he asks, looking around the basement.

“This is our way of wishing you good luck for tomorrow,” Chloe smiles brightly, rolling on her heels.

“Your farewell party,” Joshua adds with a snort and you poke his ribs.

“It’s not a farewell party!” you tell him off.

“Don’t act like I’m gonna be dead from tomorrow,” Harry laughs.

“If you sing horribly, you will be dead to me,” Beckham deadpans as everyone laughs. 

“Come on, you guys. Nothing will change, I promise.”

“You won’t forget about your best mates, will you?” Bee pouts her lips before wrapping her arms around Harry. 

“Never,” he smirks, squeezing the girl tightly. 

Even though it’s supposed to be a party, it feels like just another afternoon, hanging out after school. The boys are playing video games, this time Chloe is trying to learn to use the console as well while Bee is cheering on her. You’re sitting in the bean bag with Harry, just watching them, not feeling like participating this time.

“Hey, you alright?” Harry bumps his shoulder against yours. He probably notices how you’ve been zoned out on the screen for the past ten minutes without even processing anything that happened in the game.

“Yeah,” you nod, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip. “Just… thinking.”

“About what?”

You shrug, but you know he will make you give him an answer either way.

“I’m a little scared.”

“Of what?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Shouldn’t I be the one being scared?” he chuckles, but you can only give him a weak smile. “I already told you, nothing will change.”

“You can’t know that.”

“Okay, I have no idea what the outcome of the audition will be, but I know I don’t want to lose my best friends,” he says, looking around with a smile.

“But you won’t have time for us when you’ll be an international rockstar.”

“I’ll always have time for you, Y/N,” he softly says and the way he said it has the butterflies dancing around in your stomach instantly. He didn’t say he’ll have time for the group, he talked about only you.

“Promise?” you ask, peeking at him.

“Promise,” he nods and wrapping an arm around your shoulders he pulls you against him and you happily move into him.

Nervously playing with your fingers you think of the object that’s tucked away in your pocket, this feels like the right moment to bring out. Hopefully Harry won’t think it’s childish. Digging into your pocket you pull the bracelet out and look up at Harry anxiously.

“I have something for you.”

His eyes snap down to meet yours as you adjust in the bean bag so you can hold the bracelet out.

“I made it for you, so you’ll never forget me, not even when you’ll be a superstar.”

The bracelet lies in your palm and he takes it, holding it closer to his face to have a better look at it. It’s a simple bracelet made from colorful beads, one of them has his name’s first letter, another one has yours and a smiley face between them. Originally, you wanted to put a heart there, but you thought that would be too mushy.

“You don’t have to wear it if you think it’s ridiculous or something…” 

“I love it,” he says as he rolls it over his hand and onto his wrist, holding it up in front of the two of you. Your heart skips a beat and heat rushes to your cheeks, you can only hope he hasn’t noticed the effect this gesture had on you. 

Harry turns to you, the corners of his lips curling upwards as his eyes keep moving between yours and you can feel a moment happening.

You can’t stop your gaze from peeking down at his lips for a second and you actually catch him doing the same. Your heart is hammering in your chest so wildly, he might even hear it. He angles his body so he is more turned towards you and the basement stops existing around you for a split second, convinced that he is about to kiss you.

And then Beckham starts shouting at the screen, jumping up from the couch, completely destroying the moment. 

Curling your lips into your mouth you quickly turn away and glue your eyes to the TV, but process nothing of what’s happening in the game. You can only feel how Harry’s thigh is pressed against yours and you swear you can feel him stare at the side of your head, but you’re too scared to look. 

Maybe you read the whole thing wrong. Maybe it was nothing and he had absolutely no intention of kissing you.

It couldn’t have been real, he is Harry and you’re Y/N, he is about to be famous and you’ll be stuck right where you are. There’s no way he would have made a move. Not now, not here and not on you.

The party stretches a little longer than it usually does and eventually what ends it is that Harry needs to wake up early in the morning, so everyone heads home.Beckham gets picked up by his sister. Joshua lives just down the street so he is off on foot and Lucas, Joshua and Bee take the bus. You see a hint of annoyance on Lucas’ face when Joshua says he is going with them, he must have hoped to be alone with Bee.

You and Harry are the last ones to leave, on your bikes as usual. Your house is always the first one and though it’s a little longer for him to stop there, he always tags along, makes sure you’re home safe before heading home. 

This time is no different, but through the ride you can only think about how this might be the last time the two of you share this ride home from Chloe’s. And it feels horrible. 

Harry has told you several times that he won’t stop being your friend, whatever happens tomorrow at the audition. That he’ll always be there for you. But deep down you know nothing will be the same and these are promises he might not be able to keep because of reasons out of his control. When his career takes off he won’t be able to just come home and hang out only because you miss him. He might be on the other side of the globe, in an entirely different time zone so phone calls wouldn’t work with your schedule either.

It breaks your heart to imagine a life where Harry is not in your friend group. Where he is not your best friend. 

When you spot your house down the road you fight the urge to slow down and turn around. He would think you’re silly, but you just want this moment to last forever, because right now, you have him, but after tomorrow, he’ll slip out of your hands and you can’t do anything about it.

Harry waits as you roll your bike into the garage and meet him at your front door.

“Call me when you know the results tomorrow,” you say with a small smile and you try your best to make it look genuine. 

You feel terrible, but part of you is hoping he won’t get in, because that means he’ll come back home and life will continue to be the same as before. You’re such a horrible friend…

“Of course, you’ll be the first one to know if I embarrass myself in front of the whole country,” he chuckles, trying to make a joke out of it as always. He’s been playing it cool, like this audition is no big deal, but you know him enough to notice the signs that give away just how nervous he is.

You’re looking for the right words, to say something, anything to him, but at last you have nothing so you just move forward and wrap him in a tight hug. He lets go of his bike, it falls to the side with a thud as he locks you in his arms with just as much enthusiasm.

“Good luck, Harry,” you mumble against his hoodie, squeezing him tight one last time before letting him go.

“Thanks, Y/N,” he smiles as he steps back to his bike.

You stand there and watch him roll out to the road, he glances back at you once more, lifting a hand up in the air in a wave before disappearing down the road. 

Harry’s phone buzzes with a text just as he exits the gym, his yellow North Face jacket swallowing his muscular form as the cold London air hits his sweaty cheeks. He makes sure his beanie is covering as much of his head as possible, a pair of sunglasses added for more privacy, though he just knows some fans will recognize him on his way home.

He makes his way down the street as he pulls his phone out of his pocket, a smile stretching across his face when he sees a message from Beckham in the group chat.

BECKHAM: Alright, place is reserved from 7, don’t be fucking late because I won’t have the server’s disapproving looks. Can’t wait to see you all.

More messages start to flow in, everyone joking around about arriving hours late just to get on Beckham’s nerves. Harry’s eyes twinkle with extra shine when he sees some special names up on the screen, Chloe, Bee, Joshua and Lucas all chime in, Joshua even writes that Beckham should have just namedropped Harry and everything would be fine. God, he can’t wait to see his old mates again!

He can’t believe it’s been ten years since his class graduated. Technically, he wasn’t part of it since he finished school privately once his career took off, but they were kind enough to include him in the anniversary as well and he wouldn’t miss it for anything. He made sure it could fit in his schedule before he goes back to touring. 

He types in a quick reply.

HARRY: Beck, use me all you want. I’m giving you the right. But I’ll be there on time.

The conversation keeps rolling and Harry watches the text pop up one after the other, but he really is just looking for one name.

A name he hasn’t seen since a text weeks ago.

While the whole class is happy to come together and the group chat is almost always buzzing, you haven’t been active at all, only let them know you’d be coming at the beginning, but it’s been radio silence since then.

Harry has been fighting the urge to text you for weeks now. He would be lying if he said seeing you again after all this time does not affect him in any way. He has mixed feelings about the last decade when it comes to you. 

His life changed so much and so fast after the audition that he couldn’t keep up with his promise. Not all of them, at least. Before he could process what was happening around him, he was out of school and on the road with his new band, one album came after the other and he could never be part of his friends’ life the way he wanted to. 

He tried to come home as often as he could, but they all knew it would never be the same again. He kept in touch with the group for a long time, with you too. But as you all started to grow up and go on your separate paths, fallout was inevitable. 

But it hurt the most when it came to you, because you were always more special to him than the rest of the group.

The two of you stayed in touch for a while, you were still talking when you started college, but it consumed so much of your time and Harry’s career was skyrocketing, you simply couldn’t keep up with the pace anymore. 

He kept an eye on you though, following you on Instagram, seeing the posts you uploaded, glimpses of your life, major events, things Harry would have loved to be there for you, but he couldn’t. After a while, he wasn’t even sure you’d want to talk to him, after all, he didn’t keep his promise and you drifted apart and he still hasn’t gotten himself over that.

He swallows the disappointment down as he locks his phone and slips it back into his pocket, quickening his pace.

Harry somehow stayed the closest to Beckham. It’s been over a year since the last time he saw him, but they kept in touch through texts, so they made plans to meet up before heading to the restaurant where the reunion will be happening. 

Knowing he’ll definitely have a few drinks, Harry gets in a taxi and makes his way to Beckham’s place where he lives with his girlfriend. 

At the beginning Nadine was way out of Beckham’s league. She’s a lawyer, the kind of woman you look at and know that she has her life together, always had. Beckham, on the other hand, was always a lost soul, well, right until he met Nadine. She brought the best out of him and pushed him to start an IT career. It’s been two years, now they live together and Beckham is no longer the lost boy he used to be. 

He pays for the ride and hops up the stairs of the townhouse, ringing the doorbell. Moments later Nadine opens the front door.

“Harry, hi! So nice to see you again! She smiles from behind her stylish glasses. They have only met twice, but she always greets him as if they’ve known each other forever. “Come on in, Beckham is getting dressed. Do you want something to drink?”

“No, I’m alright, thank you,” he returns her smile upon walking into the foyer. A phone starts ringing somewhere in the kitchen and Nadine sighs.

“I have to take this, I’m sorry. Make yourself home though!”

Before he could say something she’s gone so he walks into the living room, his eyes instantly landing on the dozens of photo frames hanging on the wall. Bits and moments of the pair’s life as a couple and before they knew each other well. Harry sees a lot of unknown faces, but he spots the familiar ones too.

His gaze lands on one particular picture that has the group in it, taken in the basement at Beckham’s 14th birthday. Piled up on the couch, everyone is laughing and grinning, he recalls Lucas said something funny before the photo was snapped. He is on the left end of the couch, pressed up between the arm and you and you’re partially sitting on his lap since there wasn’t much room. He remembers this moment, how he could smell your shampoo, the urge to curl his arm around your waist to pull you more against him, but he was too scared to make a move. If he remembers right, he felt like you got nervous when Chloe pushed you and your back pressed against his chest fully. His heart was drumming in his chest, his nose brushed against your hair and he knew his cheeks were turning red when one of your hands ended up on his thigh. He thought of asking you out that evening when the two of you biked home, but chickened out at last.

He still wonders what you’d have said, if things would be different now if he ever manned up before his life changed entirely.

“Hey man! Sorry to make you wait.”

Beckham walks in, fixing the cuffs of his shirt before holding out a hand to Harry that he takes with a friendly shake.

“It’s alright.”

Beckham’s eyes wander to the picture he just saw his friend eyeing and a knowing smile stretches across his face.

“Nervous to see her again?”

“No,” Harry chuckles, but he can’t fool him. “I’m not even sure she’ll want to talk to me,” he adds quietly.

“It’s not like you guys had a big fight, don’t worry about it. I’m sure she’s glad to see you again.”

“She told you that?”

“Nope,” Beckham chuckles, patting Harry’s back. “Come on, let’s get going.”

Harry has been extremely excited to meet his ex-classmates. He was eager to see how much they all changed, where their life is going now, he knew it would be fun to see all the different paths they took even if he hasn’t seen these people in over a decade. 

The sense of familiarity that takes over him upon arriving is so comforting. Suddenly, he feels fourteen again, messing around at school with his mates, planning to play football after classes or getting ice-cream.

They are situated in the back of the restaurant, around one long table. There are some people that are a bit late, everyone starts off with a drink, greeting old friends and the conversation starts to flow instantly. 

Harry’s company is in high demand, of course, and he is happy to catch up with anyone and everyone that comes up to him. He makes sure to ask them too so it’s not just him talking. He wants to avoid being the center of attention, tonight shouldn’t be about just him, but everyone else equally.

As time passes by he finds his gaze wandering towards the entrance every time someone walks in, looking for one particular person. Ten minutes, fifteen, twenty, you’re late to dinner and he fears you might not even come at all.

“She’s just running late because of work,” Chloe comments when she catches him eyeing the door again.

“Huh?”

“If you thought you were playing it cool, you’re not,” she chuckles, sipping on her cocktail. “She’ll be here any minute.”

He hums, chewing on his bottom lip as he forces himself not to stare at the entrance. 

As everyone starts to settle around the table Harry slips out to use the restroom quickly. Just as he is walking back, smoothing his hand over his shirt, his eyes move over to the door once again and this time he finally sees you walk in.

And he can feel his world turning upside down.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[tumblingxelian]

Chloleka thoughts.

Chloe was vexed, she was not making the progress with Juleka she'd hoped to. Getting into Roses good graces was easy enough, as was sending her off to dither away her time with Ali, leaving Juleka to Chloe.

But the dark haired maiden always had somewhere to be if Chloe started angling for a real date!

It was almost discouraging enough to send her back to pining after Ladybug... But those crimson eyes flashed in her memory and a shiver ran down her spine.

Chloe wanted to see that again; to be the subject of that intense devotion. She couldn't imagine anything more attractive.

& it seemed fate was finally on her side today, because when Chloe passed Juleka by she saw, and more recognized, the app the girl was using.

"Is that Style Queens, Beautify Yourself APP?" She asked, leaning on Juleka's side to peak at her phone.

The girl didn't pull away. Progress!

"It is," Juleka hummed absently, seemingly caught between two different choices of lace.

Chloe could sympathize.

"It makes sense you'd be interested in fashion, I was never much for the gothic-techwear aesthetic before you, but your outfits have always had a strong sense of style."

She dared a peak and saw a slight flush on Juleka's cheeks before her crimson eyes steeled into what Chloe believed to be suspicion.

Fortunately, Rose had her uses.

"Juleka's always been interested in fashion, as much as she loved playing music with the band. She even wants to be a model!"

'Really now~'

A whole new avenue just opened up to Chloe, a whole new arena, a hunting ground where a tigress like herself could stalk their prey. No longer crammed in between confined school walls filled with soft children.

"You know, there is a little event for youthful fashionistas coming soon, I could get you tickets."

Juleka's stare was now more intense than ever, and Chloe just wanted to drink it up even as the girls expression flickered between nervousness, intense suspicion and obvious longing.

'Look at me like that, look at me like that. Look at me like that!'

"I'd like that, but-"

"But nothing," Rose interrupted, "Juleka this could be huge for you, or maybe nothing, I don't actually know anything about fashion."

'Obviously,' Chloe bit her tongue until she tasted copper, forcing the words down and drowning out the echo of her mothers voice, just this once.

Chloe rolled her shoulders and regrettably slipped away from Juleka's taller frame, hand over her heart. That was apparently a sign of sincerity, right?

"I fortunately know a great deal, and can assure that it would be a boon. What's more, Adrien will be in our company in case you fear me doing anything devious. If nothing else, it will be a look into the world you're seeking to join, no?"

Juleka's head tilted to the side, long bangs falling aside to reveal both eyes and Chloe was rooted to the floor. Finally she spoke, "All right, I'll attend... Thank you Chloe."

'I won? Of course I won. I won!'

She blurred forward and managed to score a kiss on the cheek before bouncing back on her feet.

"Exceptional darling, I promise you shan't regret it! I'll make all the arrangements!"

--

To Juleka it seemed like the day of the event had come up on her like a speeding train.

Dressed in ungodly expensive clothes purchased by Chloe, she was riding in a limo. Yeah that was a thing that was happening. For some reason.

Rose's absence was felt mightily at her side. The other girl had some kind of Achu related event to go to, leaving Juleka with two other blondes in her stead.

Adrien looked relaxed if a little strange to her... Not on guard, not even that different, just subtly uncanny to what she'd come to expect from him, even the smile felt slightly unreal.

Chloe, much to Juleka's surprise wasn't hanging off her arm. In fact, the girl had pointedly sat on the opposite side of the limo to her and Adrien. Instead, she was with Nathalie and both were prodding intensely at phone and tablet alike, concentration evident on their features.

At some point Juleka had started biting her lip, the pain was a distraction but just as she felt the skin breaking she wrenched her jaw open.

"Something wrong?" Nathalie's cold stare levelled at Juleka, leaving her wanted to disappear behind her hair.

"Just, nervous..."

"Don't be darling, you're exceptional," Chloe purred. "Put an exceptional person where they are meant to be and they shine without effort."

For his part Adrien added, "I get being nervous, but you're in good company and well styled. You'll fit in better there than I will," he motioned to his very casual, boyish war. Barely a step above what he usually wore save the strong but subtle trim and longer sleeves.

"Your appeal," Nathalie began, "Is in your boyish charm. Suits and more flashy wear are for special occasions."

Adrien rolled his eyes fondly, "This stuff tends to go over my head, so its helpful to have Nathalie remind me." There was something teasing in his tone.

Feeling a little more at ease, Juleka un-clenched her muscles, and leaned back just a little more. "I just want to make sure I act right and not just dress right."

"Well there's your problem," Chloe dropped her phone and looked thoughtful. "Appearance, manner, behavior, they're all the same, everything is a performance. For campaigning daddy plays affable cars salesmen & family man for the public, then with his peers-"

Nathalie coughed, firmly.

Chloe just huffed and pressed on, "Take me for example, Chloe the Mayors daughter is different to Chloe the hotelier, and to Chloe the student."

That raised a lot of questions in Juleka's mind, not helped by Adrien nodding.

"Yeah, its all about almost being another person. You aren't you when performing, you're Juleka, the up and coming model. You have your own role to play, a persona that goes beyond the clothes you're wearing but that at the same time is them. Hold to that and you'll do fine."

Swallowing, she toyed with one of the rings Chloe had purchased for her ensemble for this event.

"So then is it all smoke and mirrors?" Would people even see her?

"Close," Chloe purred, something glinting in her hand and reflecting light across the limo.

The blonde leaned forward and grasped Juleka's hand and gravely intoned, "Its all in the style."

When Juleka returned home, she had been intent on collapsing on her bed and tuning out the world for awhile. It had gone well, better than she had ever expected, but that didn't men she wasn't exhausted.

However, there were too many questions left buzzing in her brain for her to stop quite yet. Crimson eyes darted to the array of cards and twin packaged sitting on her desk.

'I have no idea what to do with this,' she was excited, and nervous, replaying the days events in her head from a new angle.

During the event, Juleka had been surprised that Chloe didn't stay close; which was not to say she was totally absent.

The blonde had been blurring in an out like a busy little bee and not passing up the odd chance for a flirty finger trailing along Juleka's skin.

But most of Juleka's time was spent with Adrien; not quite on his arm, but not quite not on it either. Like she was a peer and someone of equal importance in the fashion world. All while Chloe & Nathalie weaved around them like human shrapnel in tornadoes.

At the time, Juleka didn't think much of it.

But now, cards given to Chloe were given to her, emails were pinging on her phone and when she arrived home, Juleka found two different enticement packages had been delivered by two separate modelling studios.

She still wanted to scream in joy and panic.

Instead, she had called Adrien.

"Two already? Wow, I know those names, you really turned heads today Juleka, congratulations!"

"Is it," She swallowed. "Was it me though, or because I was with you, or Chloe, I mean her father-"

"I can stop you there, being around me is only so so helpful, if it made peoples careers Chloe would still be in modelling. As for her father, nope, he has near zero pull in these circles, and Chloe's not going to risk throwing around his name when it won't help. Or worse, use Style Queens name without Audrey giving her the greenlight."

"I see, sorry... She seemed to be very... Active..."

Adrien chuckled, "She was just acting as your buffer, which she's done for me plenty of times. It may have helped create an air of mystique, that you were already someone notable, but that's all, the rest was you."

Juleka looked at the collection of card, the list of emails and twin packages. "I'll have to thank her, and... Maybe ask her what to do with all this."

"Probably a good call, I won't be of much help; I only deal with the Agreste and Style Queen brands usually. Chloe's more keyed into the movers and shakers everywhere and plenty inclined to scent blood in the water, or sort the bigger fish from the parasites as she might say."

"I'll keep that in mind and call her, and thank you for today."

"No problem, we're friends and hey, you've been a good influence on Chloe this last couple of weeks. Its been... Nice."

Which was the other reason she called, probably the real reason she called. Forcing the words out, Juleka was proud she didn't stammer, "Chloe knows I can't date her over this, right?"

"She knows," Adrien said without missing a beat. "That won't stop her flirting but she knows the difference between Paramore and agent. So don't worry about her trying to hold this over you, it wouldn't... Fit with how things work. She's already tethered her name to you and mine. She won't toss that aside over a date one way or the other."

Juleka mentally filed 'all' of that away for future reference in her increasingly large 'Chloe' file and nodded, only to herself.

"I see... That helps, given history I don't know what to expect."

"I can tell you this much, once Chloe decides she likes someone she digs in her claws and doesn't let go. She can handle a millions rejections & bounce back like nothing happened because attempt one million & one is sure to work, and if it doesn't then surely the next."

"I... I don't get it."

There was an odd tone to Adrien's hum as he answered, "We're used to fighting to be seen, something you can relate to. So she won't take a no personally, if she did, she'd be a quitter and nothings less exceptional than a quitter."

Juleka's Chloe file was going to need extra storage space.

"Oh- sorry I have to go, maybe we can do a shoot together down the line, later Juleka!"

"B-" He'd hung up before she could finish speaking and Juleka stared at her phone, and then back at her dream laid out in front of her.

Then she dialed Chloe.

It wasn't until after a long conversation about not tying herself to any one company, which companies to scuttle and which to eek close, followed by dinner with her family that Juleka realized something.

She hadn't called Rose yet.

[princess-of-the-corner]

ML Class President race / Darkblade realization, but imagine if Sabrina had gotten the diary off, had taken those picture of the records inside. But the first page they save was proof Marinette is Ladybug".

Like I don't think Chloe would want to believe it in that exact moment but at the same time... Why hide it in a trapped journal? When did Marinette get turned into a knight? Is this why Ladybug didn't seem super into it when Chloe was hanging off her showing her adoration!?

Plus Sabrina herself might briefly get a burst of willpower so if Chloe does try to say something without thinking she just grabs her arm like "Do you really wanna do this?" In a kind of panicked, "We almost all died by Akuma today, is this really a good idea" kind of way.

So basically, Chloe knows, but very specifically S1, Darkblade era Chloe.

You know now I'm just thinking about

1.) why didn't Sabrina just smash the box to get her hand out? Why didn't Marinette think of that possibility and just go full Light Yagami and set the box to go up in flames?

and

2.) Swinging at Derision again: if Chloé was such an awful bully targeting Marinette like she did, why does she need to break into Marinette's dairy to get dirt on her?

But also like.

Season 1 Era Chloé already idolized Ladybug. I think it wouldn't take her too much to believe it since she'd see Marinette acting all in charge during the Darkblade incident before disappearing and click into the other incidents.

So I think she might get a crisis of '???? Why??? Do you save me from Akumas??? When I'm awful to you????'

[chronically-ghosted]

a cute megalomaniac (recovery road - chapter i) series masterlist | AO3 Link | chapter ii

chapter rating: T (series: E)

word count: 6K

chapter summary: dieter's first day on set

chapter warnings/tags: mentions of rehab/addiction/withdrawal, language, no one gets along

a/n: My FC for Heidi is Sarah Goldberg and Timothy Olyphant as Mark (low hanging fruit, I know)

It’s getting hot inside the car. 

If he was going to sit this long in the fucking car, he should have left it running. Summers in LA are sneaky. Desert air is cold in the dark, but piercing in the day. He had purposefully parked in the shade, but it was still too much. He feels sweat break out across his hairline and he knows that won’t be a good look. He needs to look completely put together, completely at ease, relaxed. Unflinching. Unrufflable. Like he does tai chi every thirty minutes and can harmonize with the universe during rush hour traffic. 

He’s got to keep it together. 

But he can’t take his fucking palms down from his eyes. The heel of his hands dig into his eye sockets and for all the pressure it builds, it feels good. The pressure flushes out every other thought in his head and he needs to go into this clear-headed. If he fucks up again, it’s not just his ass on the line. 

He wants to believe things are going to be different this time. He wants to believe he’s going to be different. He’s worked his ass off to get here– sweated and shook and vomited into his own lap as the withdrawals tightened every muscle in his body– and now he just needs this one chance. Chloe – patient, perfect Chloe – was counting on him. If she said he could do it, he probably could. 

His left hand, fourth finger, twinges and that’s what brings his hands down from his face. He looks at the ring there. That gold beautiful ring. A promise made real. He swallows. 

Today, it’s a table read. Done it a thousand times. He’s actually early, for fuck’s sake. He glances down, triple checking he’s not wearing slippers or that mangy robe. Jeans. Black shirt. Easy. Chloe warned against the rings, but he’d sooner part with those than his right hand entirely. Sure he fucked up, sure he was a fuck up, but there were parts of Dieter Bravo that just had a right to exist. People wouldn’t recognize him without his rings. 

He did cave about the earring though. 

You’re almost thirty-six, darling. Nobody but rockstars can wear earrings at that age. 

When he went into rehab, he was thirty-three. He had lost two years of his life in that prison and he was not about to do it again. He had left his sobriety token at home, but he wished he had it now, just for something to squeeze, something to soothe his feverish palm. Again, Chloe had quietly nudged him: “do we need to get you a fidget spinner, baby?”

He wanted to joke, “that’s what the adderall is for,” but given that his doctor was forced to prescribe him something else for his ADHD after they found a dozen empty pill bottles under his bed, it probably wasn’t all that funny. 

He breathes, counting down just like the nice lady at the rehab center taught him to. 

Your self-destructive habits formed out of necessity. It’s time to reshape them. 

Today, it’s just a table read. He can do this.

He pops his sunglasses out of their holder on the console and slips them over his eyes. He takes one more glance out of the rearview mirror, half-expecting to be staring down the long lens of a TMZ reporter. He grabs the script from the passenger seat, curls it under his fingers— and still doesn’t move.

He likes this script. He likes the writer, seen their work in the past and it rocks. It’s good. It’s a good part. It’s actually better than good. It’s Oscar bait, the internet buzz says, and he has the lead part. An aging musician struggling to rebuild his life after a drug addiction ruined his band’s final tour. The scriptwriter didn’t actually say that he had Dieter in mind when he wrote the part, but Jesus– suffice it to say, he understood the material. 

The aging musician was going to help a young upstart find her way in the music scene. She joins the band. They flirt, they fuck, they fall in love, and everything is ruined by their own egos. End credits. Lights up. Oscar in his hand. 

He didn’t recognize the name of his co-star when his agent sent over the cast list. He honestly didn’t even ask about her. He had known the director, Heidi, for years, had worked with her in the past, and thought she had a real eye for scenecraft and a knack for finding that beating heart of a moment. He trusted her with casting the right part for his opposite, just as she had casted him. But it wasn’t even about his co-star– he was ready to dig in and see what the director could pull out of him. 

And fuck, if it worked for RDJ, then it could work for him. 

This had to work for him. He feels the pressure return behind his eyeballs. 

“Fuck it,” he hisses and nearly kicks the door open. The script curled up in his hand like a baseball bat, Dieter Bravo strolls across the hot parking lot to the studio sound stage and into the rest of his life.

He is used to being stared at. He is used to all eyes on him, but not like this. This feels too much like that last party when the cops showed up and found all of his illegal prescriptions. It makes him itch.

The empty stage is filled mostly with crew and staff, setting up lighting and testing the sound recording. They’re all busy, getting ready for next week to start filming, but they still have time to send him a worried glance. Because if he fucked up, they’d all be out of a job. They had enough courtesy to not actually whisper in front of him, but he knew exactly what they were saying just after he’s out of earshot:

“Oh, fuck, this is a Bravo flick? Shit, I gotta get another gig.”

“That asshole is here? Oh my God, this thing’ll be shut down in two weeks!”

“Fuck that guy and his stupid hair.”

Okay, that last one might have been projecting. He catches his own gaze in a pane of glass while he waits for the director’s assistant to return. His hair, despite his best attempts, would not lie flat, would not stay unrumpled. Another thing Chloe thought a man of his age should have a better grip on. 

He hasn’t seen another cast member and now he’s worried he got the time wrong and he’s missed it and he’s already started all of this off all wrong —

“Dieter! Oh my God, you’re here!”

Heidi, the director, beams at him so bright he actually feels himself go warm. She has her arms out open for him and he rushes to her, picks her up in his arms and twirls her. Her hair is back to her natural silvery blonde, cut short and kept out of her face with a tornado of bobby pins. He’s never seen her without her jean jacket, even at premieres. 

Early on in their careers, he found he had too much respect for her to try and sleep with her and they formed the closest thing he could call a healthy relationship over the years. She was like his sister, since his own didn’t seem like she’d ever pick up the phone again. 

It also helped that she was a raging lesbian, happily married, and wouldn’t go near his dick for all the money at Warner Brothers Studios. 

“Dieter, you look so fucking good, dude.” She pats his face and scrunches up her nose, those black headphones knocking around her neck. “Fuck, it’s been too long.”

“I know, Di, I know.” He always liked that their nicknames sounded alike. Dee and Di. A team. “How’s Lucy?”

“Pfft, you know her. Taken the kids up to Canada for the summer. Says the trees are more ‘real’ there,” she says, rolling her eyes. “I miss the little buggers, but shit, it’s nice to have a quiet house.”

He laughs, the knot in his chest easing. “Before school starts up again, you’ll have to come by the new place.”

“Oh, shit, that’s right. You just moved back into the neighborhood, didn’t you? I heard about that. You and, uh . . .”

He hides the blush in the tips of his ears with his hand, acting like he’s scratching an itch on the side of his head. “Yeah, Chloe and I are still together. Been married for a little over two years now.”

At that, Heidi’s bright green eyes snap open wide. She nearly launches herself at him to grab his hand, gawking at the only gold ring on his finger. “Shutthefuckup. You got married?! You asshole, why wasn’t I invited?”

He swallows past the hard knot in his throat. “It was a small thing. Could hardly call it a party.” 

Heidi, as she usually does, takes not a lick of his bullshit. “Uh huh. Well, shit, I guess we have to double date now.” 

“I’d like that.” He grins.

Her shock softens, and she punches his shoulder softly, her smile wide across her face. “You fuckin’ dork. I can’t believe you got married. Who knew Dieter Bravo would settle down?” 

He doesn’t know what to say to that, doesn’t know what’s going to come out of his mouth if he tries to answer, so he just shrugs. Her eyes linger on him for a second more, before looping her arm through his and leading him away from the stage. 

“So have you read the script?”

He nods eagerly. “Yep. The whole thing. Front to back. It’s fucking incredible, Heidi.” 

“Yes it is! There’s so much to work with. It’s a little hoity-toity for my taste in some places, but I think there’s a way to balance the shmaltz with genuine emotion, you know? It’s so raw and real, I know you can get to those places.”

“Yeah, like I haven’t already,” he jokes off-handedly. They’re standing in the big open bay, where the crew can wheel in giant cranes for lighting or special effects, when Heidi freezes. A frown is growing over her face as though realizing something for the first time. A wind blows in and he thinks he can smell the desert in it.

“Oh, fuck, Dee,” she murmurs, not even looking at him. “This script, the material . . . you just got out of fucking rehab, and—”

He shakes his head, a bit frantic. He’ll get on his hands and knees if that’s what it takes to keep him on this project. “Heidi, this is fine. I’m fine.”

He takes her by her shoulders and makes her look him in the eye. 

“I want this part. I want this part so fucking badly. I know I can do it too. I’m going to do this project and it’s going to blow your fucking socks off. You can count on me. I’m responsible now, I promise.”

At that, her green eyes soften. “Responsible and married? Who the fuck are you and what have you done with Dieter Bravo?”

Early on in their careers, she had been right by his side, doing line after line of coke off hookers and strippers. But then she grew up. If she can have a family and a beautiful wife, then why can’t he? 

“Dee, look,” she says softly and touches the hand around her shoulder. “I’m not worried about any of that. I always knew you were something special, if you could just get out of your own way.” She glances away, shame making her mouth tick. “But I should have checked in more. I knew you were still in rehab, even after those times I called. I should have stayed in touch. I’m sorry.”

Something about her pity was unbearable. “Don’t. Please. It’s in the past. It’s over and I want to move on. This time, it’s going to be different.”

Heidi nods, smiling. “For sure, dude. We’ll do this together.”

He can fucking breathe again. She sees this and takes him by the arm, letting him get his feet under him. The air is warm, and Heidi’s hand is firm against his forearm. 

“I know the email said to meet at the sound stage, but everyone’s working out here, so I just put us in the back of the studio. Much more quiet. C’mon, I think I saw Mark’s car up front.”

She leads him to the next building, chattering on and on about the composer they got. How the music is gonna fuck so hard, they’re even trying to convince the studio to let them record a full fake album for the movie — “if you don’t wanna sing, Dee, that’s totally fine but I am begging you to do at least some of the guitar,” — and the building door opens.

It’s a squat building, probably more offices than anything to do with production, but it’s where Heidi is taking him, and a man, much younger than he is, stumbles out of the doorway, giddily laughing over his shoulder. He looks to be a PA of some kind — wiry, a little strung out, probably with dreams of writing the next Citizen Kane someday — but he’s looking at something over his shoulder. 

Or rather at someone. 

A woman, barely that but with all the cosmic designs of one, steps out after him. Her white cowboy boots hug just below her knee, her smooth legs, rich with the sun, curl up into a men’s white collared shirt. She walks and only a flash of denim shorts peek out the shirt tails.

She isn’t laughing, but smirking. Knowing something this poor PA has no concept of. Her black aviators push her lush hair out of her face and her fingers glitter with silver jewelry. She’s smiling at the PA like a leopard seal smiles at lemmings. 

She chews something in the back of her teeth and then blows a bright pink bubble. The PA’s smile falls off his face, watching, wide-eyed, as the gum snaps in her mouth. 

Dieter immediately and, without question, dislikes her. Dislikes her so much, he can feel it burn in his chest.

Her wicked eyes slide from the PA, over his shoulder, and land squarely on Dieter. She blinks. Heidi walks up to her and shakes her hand. 

“Oh, hey, kiddo, you found the right place.” 

That sharp-toothed glint in her eye is gone as she eagerly chats up Heidi, and the PA might as well have disappeared off the face of the earth. 

Heidi waves Dieter over and it takes a full two seconds for him to remember how walking works. The sun is hot on his back. 

The woman — the girl — is looking him up and down, calculating and cool. As if she, unlike him, hasn’t quite made up her mind about what she thinks of him. 

Heidi waves a hand in between you two. She says your name and his mind suddenly locks onto it. He suddenly knows who you are before Heidi says it. He skimmed it on the cast list, barely memorable, at the time insignificant because he didn’t recognize it. Still doesn’t, but that name is embedded in his brain now, nailed down spikes and taken up residence. 

“This is your new co-star, Natalie Lorraine. The other lead. You two will be working very closely together for the next couple of months.”

You’ve stopped chewing gum. Either you’ve swallowed it or tightly packed it to the back of your gums, because there’s no slur, no crumpled edge to your words, when you extends your hand and says:

“Hi, Dieter. Nice to meet you.” 

Your hand is soft in his and your lotion reminds him of lilac. 

Today is just a fucking table read.

He tries to unclench his jaw when he says, “Nice to meet you too.” 

He’s on his third bottle of water and he’s eyeing the trashcan in the corner, wondering how many plastic bottles he could throw away before it looks weird. He’s got the script out in front of him on a long, white plastic table and a few people have stopped by to say hi. He had gotten up to stand and shake their hand, and several of them had blinked up at him, as if they had forgotten how tall he was when he wasn’t hunched over, fighting a hangover. Heidi was gathering the last of the castmates before the table read and had been gone for twenty minutes or so. Maybe — 

In the corner, she laughs, the sound brilliant and loud. In a world full of perfect, practiced laughs, hers is noticeable but not entirely bad, and a few people turn to look at her. She’s got a hand on Mark Bronson’s arm, clearly delighted at something he said, and he is obviously starstruck. 

Dieter actively fights the scowl on his face. He’s known Mark for a while. Good guy, little vices, always put in the work. Been married to the same waitress he met out in Oregon on a shoot a decade and a half ago, and never once stepped out. Dieter had been thrilled to see him, to catch up on old times, purposefully making a joke that referenced the one time they were on that old cop show together when they first got to Hollywood. “Nobody would really believe we’re gangsters, now, eh, Dee?” Mark had said with a grin. “Too fuckin’ old.” 

Mark had stayed and talked and that again eased the tension in his chest. If Mark actually hated his guts and that easy smile and loose handshake were fake, then the Oscar really should go to him.

But as more people filed in, he excuses himself to catch up with one of the directors of the art department and Dieter takes the opportunity to grab as many bottles as a reasonable person would from the cooler. He likes ice cold water. The colder, the better the burn. 

But here Mark sidles  up to that girl, laughing it up like they were old friends. Traitor, he muses glumly, and thumbs the white plastic cap. He’s thought about Googling her — who the fuck is this girl — but didn’t know how to justify it if someone caught him.

The back door to the room opens and Heidi steps in.

“Alright, five minutes. Take your final smoke breaks, your pee breaks, your whatever breaks. Hopefully not all at the same time, but I ain’t here to judge.” 

He keeps his eyes trained on the water bottle as bodies weave around him, chairs squeaking as they are pulled out and sat on. The atmosphere is relaxed, easy, everything he wanted. So why is he so fucking tightly wound?

“Thirsty?” 

It takes him a second to unstick his gaze from the bottle. He knows you’re talking to him. 

He glances up at your face from under his lashes. You aren’t exactly smiling at him, but there’s a light in your eyes that feels . . . playful. What a normal, innocent question. But when he doesn’t respond, you lean forward on your elbows, your rings interlocking on your fingers. Your gaze drops his and nudges the two empty plastic bottles around his script.

“And there’s two more full ones under your chair. So are you—”

“I like to keep hydrated,” he says, cutting you off. “It’s summer in LA and . . . uh, it’s hot.” 

“Uh huh,” you reply, slowly. “Can I have one? You know, since it’s hot.”

His mouth twitches — get off your perky ass and get one yourself — but then he’s liable to see your bare legs again. And he knows a comment like that would get him some stares, which would not be good. 

He swears you know all of this too by the way your eyes glitter at him, daring him. That’s the worst– he’s figured it out. You look at him from under your thick eyelashes like you want to play a championship round of Truth or Dare, but it would only ever be Dare. You want to see him dance on hot coals, eat a sword, kiss a snake. You want to watch him squirm and it’s so obvious, he clenches his jaw.

He swallows and bends down. He holds out the water bottle by the very end to you, but you somehow manage to brush your fingers up against his anyway. He doesn’t physically recoil but he feels like he needs to go wash his hands.

“Thank you,” you say as you unscrew the cap then drink heavily from the bottle. It’s halfway empty when you put it on the table. Your tongue laps up the water from your lip. 

He grunts as a response. You’re opening your mouth to bother him further when Heidi calls the start of the read. Dieter pulls his reading glasses out of his pocket and sees you’ve done the same. Silver, though, to his black, they’re perched on the edge of your nose, and you’re looking down at the script as if trying to divine lighting rods. You’re focused, the playful, tempting air gone, and there’s an intensity to your eyes that wasn’t there before. You look . . . almost normal. 

He slides his glasses on and looks back to his pages, the tips of his ears burning.

The table read goes well. 

Sort of. 

There’s a handful of scenes Heidi has picked out for the majority of the cast to read together. Mark does well as the manager who is trying to hold all the egos together but struggling with demons of his own. He’s funny when he needs to be, but serious enough to flip a line read that deepens his character. God, he’s so fucking talented, Dieter thinks as the table laughs at one of his character’s jokes. 

The other members of Dieter’s band in the movie are made up of three guys, two girls. They have a natural chemistry that makes it seem like they’ve been friends for years. Dieter makes a note to try and get to know them better as people off set to hopefully find his own rhythm with them. A few smile at him as he’s doing his own line reading and he feels good about it. 

Everything is fine and easy . . . until there are a few scenes specifically between him and you.

You’re putting too much emotion into it for just a table read and it’s making him uncomfortable. These things are just to get to know everyone, to see how the cast can play off each other, but you’re out here acting like there’s cameras ten feet back. Have you ever even been to a table read before? Shouldn’t you know this?

After you deliver a heartfelt monologue about feeling lonely in the world, he hears a few sniffles. The two girls of the band are red-eyed and Mark is intentionally stone-faced. Even Heidi looks affected. 

What the fuck is going on? Is he the only one not swayed by your bullshit? 

All of a sudden, you take his hand from across the table, your eyes pouring into his, and he’s caught off guard. 

“Tell me you understand,” you say, your voice wet with emotion. “Tell me you understand why you can’t ever leave me.”

He wets his lips and sits up straighter in his seat. He squeezes your hand, opening up the light in his eyes. Fine, two can play that fucking game.

“I’m no good for you, baby,” he croons. “There’s a million of me out there and only one of you.”

“But you’re the only one I want. The only one I need.” 

Fuck, you’re good. But he’s better. He turns your hand over, exposing your wrist to the cool air and thumbs your pulse gently. He smiles wistfully at you.

“What we want can kill us. I love you, darling, but that’s not enough.”

The room is silent.

He glances down and read the next stage action:

They meet in a passionate kiss.

His eyebrows raise and he glances back at you, halfway expecting you to throw yourself at him from across the table. 

But, no. Instead of looking at him with love in your eyes, you are fucking furious. Your mouth is pulled into a tight line, and he can see you mentally picture strangling him.

“Alright,” Heidi calls out, her voice gruff. “Alright, let’s move on. Page one-fifteen.” 

The room fills with the fluttering of paper and a few people sniff, rubbing their eyes.

You yank your wrist out of his grip but don’t move to turn the page. And neither does he. 

Oh, you’re mad that I did the exact same thing you were doing, but better? Sorry, hot tits, you have no idea who you’re fucking with. Welcome to the real world.

You look like you want to sink your fangs into him. You’re kind of cute with your nostrils flared, in that megalomaniac kind of way.

A woman to his right asks what page they’re starting on, and it forces him to break eye contact with you. He tells her and thumbs to the correct page himself, where Mark is having an argument with one of the guys in the band.

He glances up at you. Tension still lines your body but you aren’t looking at him anymore. In fact, you’re making a clear point not to. His chest soars. 

He is definitely counting that as a win.

He opens the back door to the studio lot and breathes in the evening air. Day one, knocked down and dragged out back. He feels so fucking good. 

After the reading, Mark came over and congratulated him again on getting the part. He makes sure Dieter has his number before saluting him and announcing he’s heading home for the night. The band is hanging out in the corner, but the talk dies down as he approaches. One of the guys looks positively horrified as he smiles and waves at them.

“You did a great job today,” he says to their half circle. He’s never seen anyone’s eyes so wide in their heads. “Have you all worked together before?”

“We’re an actual band and you’re really Dieter Bravo,” one of the girls blurts out. Her friend, presumably, elbows her and she blinks as though slapped. “I mean, we play real music. We’ve been on the radio a few times, but you’ve probably never heard of us . . .” She trails off, glancing helplessly at her friends to make her shut up.

The other young woman with hair so red it had to have been fake, rolls her eyes. “We’re The Sixers. We started out here in LA and we’ve been on the Strip a few times. Our agent said that it would be great publicity if we were in a movie.” 

“Oh, shit,” Dieter mutters, as surprised as they are, “The Sixers – yeah, I have heard of you before. I’m fucking old as hell, but I still listen to the radio.” 

“You’ll have to give us some acting pointers,” one of the other guys offers up, his hands in his jean pockets. He seems less obviously starstruck but still trying to play it cool. 

“Only if you help me to remember how to play the guitar,” Dieter grins. 

“You know how to play?” The first girl gawks.

He winks at her. “When everyone else around me is too drunk to notice I’m terrible.” 

They laugh, the girl’s face whiter than a sheet, and then the redhead introduces everyone. “That’s Nick, Cooper, and Samuel. Our resident ghost here is Marie, and I’m Roxie.”

He vaguely wonders which of those are stage names, but is absolutely sure that’s not Roxie’s real name. But she seems like the kind of person who’d like it that way. 

“You all are in good hands with Heidi,” he nods to where she’s chatting with Mark and the art director. “She’s a visionary and really knows her shit. You’re lucky you get to have her as your first director.” 

“Have you worked with her before?” Cooper, a guy with legitimate beatnik hair, asks. 

Dieter nods. “Several times, actually. She’s fantastic.” 

“Have you worked with her before?” Roxie asks as you walk across the room to pick up your purse. Dieter can feel that burn in his chest again as you bend over. He shakes his head. 

“Is she new to the scene? Is that why she can’t afford any pants?” Roxie mutters and both Cooper and Samuel chuckle. Marie glares at her. 

“I heard she was a child actress in the early 2000s,” Marie says as if trying to re-right the ship. “Was pretty successful, but then dropped off the face of the earth. Until now, I guess.”

“Maybe she went the Bella Thorne way of child actresses,” Nick murmurs, shamelessly watching your ass as you turn to speak with Heidi for a moment. 

Roxie snorts. “She’s not that slutty. No one is that slutty, to sleep with even the likes of you, Nicholas.”

“Oh, yeah, you’d like that, wouldn’t you –” 

Roxie slams a hand over his mouth. “I will junk-punch you so hard if you say what I think you’re going to say.” 

They’re like siblings, Dieter muses. Five very talented, outrageous siblings. 

“It was great to meet all of you,” he says and Marie’s eyes flutter back to him. “But I gotta split. We should all go out some time. Meet up outside of work.”

“Oh, I think we’d looove that,” Cooper sing-songs, his eyes on Marie. She flushes bright red and pinches his shoulder, while Samuel laughs. “Ow!”  

Despite himself, this could actually be a fun shoot. He waves but none of them really see it, having devolved into a squabble that makes him grin. 

You’re gone, he notices, and the art director has left too, but Heidi is sitting alone at the table, going over her notes. 

He slides into the seat next to her and she lifts her head, smiling.

“Hey, Dee, you fucking crushed it today. Everyone’s been coming up to me to say how impressed they are with you.” 

He huffs and rolls his eyes, leaning back in the chair. “Yeah, and did they follow it with, ‘especially after how much of a fuck up we thought he’d be’?” 

Heidi playfully frowns at him. “C’mon, man, give yourself some credit. You earned the right to be here. I didn’t have to approve your audition.” 

His throat tightens. No, she really didn’t. He shakes his head.

“You’re right. As always.” 

Heidi grins, pleased, and drops her head back to her notes, marking things in a red pen. 

“So what did you think of your co-star?” 

Be nice, Dieter. “She’s . . . fine.” 

Heidi smirks, but doesn’t look up. “Wow, I don’t think you’ve ever used less words to describe someone, much less a woman.” 

He doesn’t like the way she says woman, as if there’s this cosmic reckoning that’s started and he just doesn’t know it yet. Sam and Diane, Bones and Booth – a destined sort of thing. 

He rolls his jaw. 

“She just acts . . . uppity, is all. Like she’s better than everyone else.” 

Heidi snorts. “Okay, tell me how you really feel.”

“I don’t like her.”

At that, Heidi pauses and looks up, genuine concern on her face.

“Really? You don’t like her? She came recommended by an old friend of the studios and I know she’s a bit much, but I didn’t think you’d actually dislike her.”

He back-pedals as fast as he can. This day is so close to being perfect. 

“I mean, I don’t not like her . . . I just . . . I don’t know her.” If he is being honest, the best time to tell her exactly what’s been on his mind all day is probably right now. “And, fuck, Di, isn’t she a bit . . . I don’t know . . .” He swears he can hear the old Dieter laughing at him. “. . . young?” 

Heidi grimaces, taking his concern seriously, and he loves her even more for that. 

“It was a studio note. Execs say it makes the central conflict feel more . . .”

“Predatory?” His eyebrow lifts, disdain evident in his drawl. She frowns at him.

“Transcendent.”

There is nothing about that girl that is transcendent, he thinks bitterly. 

He sighs and leans closer. Heidi notices his change in body language and leans forward too.

“I just cannot fuck this up, Di. I have to come out on top with this. It’s really important.”

That pity flashes across her face again and his stomach curdles. But she soothes a hand over his, her eyes serious. 

“Dee, I know. I really do. I’m not going to let anything bad happen here. She starts acting up, she’s out. We don’t need her that badly.”

He couldn’t be sure if she actually had the power to kick a co-star off the set, but he wanted to believe she did. More importantly, she wanted him to believe she did. 

“Thanks, Di,” he sighs. “I don’t know what I would do without you.” 

She chuckles and pulls her hand back. 

“Go home to your wife at a normal hour.” She pauses, making a face as if she tasted something sour. “Your wife – God, I will never get used to that.”

“Hey, I got used to it, after my best friend left me for some brunette out in Bali,” he teases as he stands up. 

Heidi scoffs. “That wedding was sick as fuck and you know it.” 

“You know, I never did bill Lucy for the piercing I got there. Sober Dieter would never have made the decision to look like a Keith Richards knock-off.”

“Oh shut the fuck up and go home. To your wife.” 

He’s laughing as he waves her good night. 

He opens the back door to the studio lot and breathes in the evening air. Day one, knocked down and dragged out back. He feels so fucking good. 

He’s thumbing through his keys when he smells smoke. Acidic smoke. Like those disgusting American Spirits he used to choke down. 

You’re leaning by the trunk of your car, one heel kicked over the other, smoking a white cigarette through your fingers. That would be fine with him except your car is parked tightly in the space next to his and you’re blocking the way to the driver’s seat. He’d rather crawl through the trunk than have to bend around you.

You’re biting on your thumbnail and staring directly at him with unabashed contempt. 

“Your reading was stilted,” you announce and then take a long drag. 

“Excuse me?”

“Your reading today,” you say slowly as though talking to a particularly stupid child, “it was stilted.” 

He pops his jaw. 

“That’s because it was a fucking . . .” He remembers to breathe. “That’s because . . . it was a table read. Have you ever been to one?”

“Yes.” You tap the ash off your cigarette on the heel of your boot, drawing his gaze to the flush of your thigh but he’s not going to fall for it. “It can be a great opportunity for actors to find their chemistry. To find their rhythm.”

“I know that.” 

“Then where was yours? Huh?” You lift your eyebrows. Did you ever not want to play Dare?

“What are you talking about? I had a fine time with the band. We’re actually going to hang out outside–,”

“I mean with me.” 

That burning sensation returns to his chest. You look at him as if you could sear a hole right through him. Your cigarette is left smoking, forgotten, between your fingers at your hip. 

“The only time you ever gave me anything was after I touched you, and even then your performance was so saccharine, it made my teeth ache. I’m out here to prove I belong here, on this big budget film, and you’re stonewalling me. What do you have against me? What did I ever do to you?” 

He runs his tongue against the back of his teeth, guilt smothering the fight you aroused in him. He drops your gaze and puts his hands on his hips. He’s too old to be scolded like this.

“Nothing, alright? You didn’t do anything,” he says quietly. “It’s not you–”

“Of course it fucking isn’t but thank you for saying so,” you snap. 

You take one more drag before flicking the white butt onto the pavement at the edge of the gathering darkness.

“This is going to be a long shoot if you can’t get your head out of your ass.” You step forward and he instinctively takes a step back, but you come close anyway and shove a finger at his chest. “I don’t know what your deal is and I don’t care. We’re going to get through this even if I have to grab you by your hair and pull you to the finish line. Got it?” 

Your eyes are shining, fierce, powerful. Your mouth could crush rocks. 

He nods. 

Maybe it’s the trick of the failing light, but he thinks your pupils are a little too unnaturally wide. 

“Great. See you Monday.” 

You turn away from him, stalking back to your car and hurling your purse into the side seat. The car, a Chevy that’s possibly older than he is, roars to life with just as much vitality as you possess. He leaps back a second before the wheels squeal as the car lurches backwards and darts off into the dark. 

He stands, watching the car pull away onto the road until it’s gone. He can still hear the engine screaming in the distance. He thumbs his keys, shaking his head. 

For the first time in months, he would literally kill someone for a cigarette.

[reputationbarbie]

❝on my cloud, i got some space for you.❞

read the rest of the series before this chapter or you’re getting spoilers.

A/N: alright, i listened to the poll. this isn’t edited so ignore any mistakes. please leave feedback in the comments ★ ˙ᵕ˙ liv

Chapter Summary: the sweetest baker is surrounded by love on the anniversary of her parent's passing.

Chapter Warnings: language, alcohol, slight age gap (F!MC and Joel are 6 years apart), symptoms of anxiety and depression, panic attacks, grief, fluff, comfort, lmk if i forgot something.

Series Tags: chef! Joel, single! father Joel, no outbreak! Joel Miller, slow burn, dual-pov, fluff, flirting, friendship, eventually established relationship, eventual smut, original character, black!fem!MC, no y/n.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ series masterlist, joel masterlist ⋆ spotify playlist ˖ ݁ 𖥔.

My throat croaks out a couple of notes as I hum along to the song in my ears on Wednesday. The calming smell of lemons wafts through the room reminding me of my mother. She always used to bake lemon cookies and cakes. Now the smell of sugary citrus envelopes me like a hug. 

I take a break, reaching for my water bottle when I feel a tap on my shoulder. Abandoning my attempts to take a sip, I take out my earbuds.

When I turn around I see Chloe standing behind me, looking past my body at what I’m making. “I'm not trying to be rude but are we rebranding or something? Everything's lemon-flavored,” she points out with her thumb towards the front of the store.

Perspiration instantly begins collecting on top of my skin. “Oh, shit. No, I’m sorry,” I apologize, wiping my hands on my apron. “I don't know why I did that,” I murmur and my eyes drift behind her.

I’ve been in an odd daze all week, unable to focus and even Joel has noticed. I’m pretty sure he told Ellie to take it easy on me this week since she hasn’t been around much. Then again, she has been hanging at the Austin a lot more since the whole Thanksgiving fiasco. I can’t put my finger on it, but he promised he was going to take off and help support me all day today. I wonder if he likes lemon cakes. 

Chloe waves her hand in front of my face, snapping me out of my thoughts. Her brows knit and concern washes over her face. “Are you okay?” she questions.

I nod, stepping past her to wrap up in the kitchen. “Yeah. I don't know what's up with me today. I just feel weird,” I remain vulnerable with her.

Chloe approaches the island I’m standing at, putting her hands on the table and leaning forward. “Ginny, love,” she looks at me as though I should already know what’s going on.

I pick up a sanitization rag and wring it out to begin cleaning the tabletop. “What?” I snip. I hate suspense.

She bites the inside of her cheek, hollowing out her mouth. An awkward silence fills the room and I curse myself for sending the others home so early. “You usually don't work today,” she points out.

I work every day, that’s the perks of owning your own bakery. “What are you talking about? it's just Friday,” I point out when the double doors to the kitchen smack open, letting in a cold gust of air.

Leo stomps in with his arms crossed, wearing black shoes and a matching tie wrapped around his neck. “Why are you working?” he chastizes, as he gets closer.

My once slow movements of cleaning pick up in frustration. I begin furiously scrubbing a stain in the metal that will realistically be there forever. “Why do people keep asking me that?” I groan.

My eyes return to focus on the stain. The fucking stain has to come out. Right now, right now, right now. “Imogen,” Leo sighs kindly. He puts his hands on my waist, pulling me backward from the procrastination. “Let’s go chat, hmm?”

I sigh, passing the cleaning products to Chloe and following Leo into the front of the bakery. He heads straight for my favorite booth, secluded in the back of the bakery towards the widows. 

“You're scaring me,” I divulge, sliding into the Tiffany blue pleather seat. 

Leo’s eyebrow raises before he seemingly realizes his facial expressions, reeling it back in. Men. “Relax. Have you talked to Joel today?” he questions.

“Yeah, this morning. He said to call him if I needed anything today.”

Leo leans forward across the acrylic table. “Ginny, it's December 18th,” he rasps and his words hit me like a truck.

December 18th. The day that my parents were crushed between two trucks on Interstate 290. It was unexpected and their business ties to Europe left me suddenly alone and having to clean up their shit for myself.

It took months to secure an end to it all. Although I wasn’t as close with my dad as I was with my mom, I still miss him just as much.

They say after traumatic events there’s an increase in marriages, divorces, and disappearances. As soon as I got the call, I quit and became fully invested in doing only the shit I wanted to. One of which included opening my bakery. I divorced nursing, disappeared further from the north side, and married baking.

You knew. Of course, you knew. That’s why you’ve been feeling weird all day. My head innately tilts as I stare off into space. 

My spiral of cataloging my every movement to assign guilt to them begins. I should’ve known and now half the day is gone without me honoring my parents. “I’m calling Joel,” Leo’s crip voice snaps me out of my thoughts. 

My head begins to shake. I don’t want to worry him for no reason. I just need to take some time away from the bakery, that is all. “No. It's not that big of a deal. I don't want to bother him,” I plead with Leo to spare the poor single father.

Leo ignores it and pulls out his phone, unlocking the device with the face sensor. “You're not bothering. Poor guy is probably just giving you space and waiting by the phone,” he explains.

Leo’s fingers tap on the tempered glass before he puts the device on the table. I look down, seeing it’s already on speaker and the ringing fills my ears.

Joel answers after two trills, per usual. “Hey. Ginny need me?” he suggests, voice dripping with honey.

I open my mouth to decline but before I do, Leo speaks up, “Yes.” If I weren’t so short I’d reach over the table and smack his head. So instead, I scold him, “Leo!” Why the fuck would he speak for me?

“My bad, Joel. She didn’t know we spoke before I came in. Yes, she does need you. I have a meeting at 1 and I need you to come by. Maybe cook her something,” he requests and the corners of my mouth quirk up in a smile. Despite what I said on the first day of our meeting, I love everything that Joel specifically cooks. 

Leo pauses and her eyes look me up and down judgingly. “She doesn’t look like she’s eaten today,” he adds and I scowl at them both.

This time, I’ve had enough of Leo’s bullshit and I kick him beneath the table. He lets out a groan, shooting daggers in my direction with his eyes. But, skipping breakfast due to anxiety isn’t a cause for concern.

Joel doesn’t skip a beat, immediately answering, “Be there in 10.”

“Thanks, man,” Leo exhales, probably glad to be relieved of his suicide watch duties for the day. Maddie and Leo stayed with me during the emotional rollercoaster of this day last year, and although they’re my best friends, I don’t expect Leo to want more. Especially when I have a partner now.

He clicks the red circle on the screen and I practically collapse on the table between us. “God, Leo. I'm going to kill you,” I groan into the hard material.

“He's your boyfriend. He's supposed to be the one comforting you and not me, right?” he questions and I can’t say I disagree.

“You’re right,” I complain one last time before lifting my head and fixing the mess of curls around my head. “Okay, you can go. I’m just going to change my clothes.”

“Are you sure? I can cancel this meeting,” he placates. No, he shouldn’t. And that’s okay. I don’t want his life to stop just because mine is currently.

I try my hardest to plaster on a fake smile, but it causes me mental anguish. “Positive. I’m going to get comfy so Joel can snuggle the shit out of me,” I tell him my plans. 

He grimaces, probably from my gushy words. His dark brown eyes search my face for any sign of discomfort. Once he’s satisfied, he nods. “Alright, I’ll call later. I’d stop by but you’ll be getting fucked as a distraction,” he smirks, before standing from the table and darting out of the bakery.

My jaw drops in shock. I most certainly won't be screwing my boyfriend on the anniversary of my parent's death. But maybe tomorrow, like early tomorrow. As soon as the clock hits midnight. 

How can I even be horny at a time like this? There’s gotta be some unnatural demon inside of me. I drag my hands down my face, trying to pull myself back into reality before standing from the booth. Walking over to the counter, I lean over to talk to Chloe. There are still patrons in the bakery and I don’t need them hearing about my personal life. “I’m going to retire upstairs. Let me know if you need anything. Joel should be here soon and you can send him up,” I list, quietly.

Chloe nods before taking my hands in hers. “Don’t worry, I got it. This is why I’m your manager,” she eases my anxiety.

I nod, bidding her goodbye before walking towards the back of the bakery. Tears start to collect in my eyes again and I repeat my favorite mantra. No crying in public, Ginny. You just have to get upstairs then you can let it out.

But it doesn’t work.

By the time I’m climbing up the staircase, the tears are already streaming down my face causing an uncomfortable burn on my cheeks. When I reach the top, I slide the barn door open to my living quarters at an alarming rate.

The wood smacks into the door frame and I rush into the space, careful not to let the mewling kittens out behind me. I softly shut the door, watching out for their tails with strained vision.

Okay, you’re alone Ginny. Let it out.

I don’t know what I expected to happen. I couldn’t foresee myself ever falling to my knees and sobbing on the living room floor, but that’s exactly what occurs. My chest becomes tight as I choke on my own spit, babbling niceties about my mother and father.

I don’t know how long I’m crouched on the floor when I hear my living room door slide open. My knees feel sore from the hardened floor beneath me but my tears don’t stop, creating a wet stain on my grey top. “Damn, sugar,” I hear Joel say before he slides the door shut behind him. 

I look up to find him rushing towards me, joining me on the floor. His typically messy hair looks freshly cut and I can tell he's used the start of the day to visit the barbershop. His green flannel shirt is opened nice and low, hugging his biceps deliciously. “Deep breaths. Know it’s hard but you can do it,” he encourages, rubbing warm circles onto my back. 

His words barely register and as I try to get my breathing under control, hiccuping in between breaths. With each uneven breath, I attempt to keep a hold on my digestive system and not let out a sad fart. Or worse, vomit in his lap.

“After Sarah died, I had panic attacks too. Still get ‘em sometimes,” he divulges. 

His hands trail up my spine to the back of my neck. His thumb traces soothing designs into my skin, effectively grounding me. My rocketing heartbeat slowly starts to steady and I allow myself to close my eyes knowing that Joel is here to catch me if I fall. His arms envelop me from behind, pulling my body so I’m sitting in his lap.

He softly caresses my hair and I tune him out as he begins whispering affirmations in my ear. I stare off into space and I jerk slightly in his hold when Joel presses a soft kiss to my neck.

I know where I am, but the last 30 minutes feel like a blur. Disassociation is a bitch.

When I finally feel aware again, Joel is still murmuring into my neck, but this time he’s talking about our future. “We’ll always be here. Me 'n Ellie through whatever,” he promises, pausing to take a breath.

I nod to let him know that I’m actually back this time. He rubs my back and I hear a soft meow coming from the floor. Toph is looking up at me with her green eyes, seemingly afraid. “We’ll have to get a bigger place for the 5 of us,” Joel adds, and I chuckle, scooping the orange kitten into my arms.

“Thank you for coming and just,” I start before gesturing to his body with one hand. “Being you,” I finish before a hiccup roars through my chest.

Joel positions himself more comfortable on the floor so he’s sitting in front of me. “I mean it. Every word,” he emphasizes, pressing a quick kiss to my wet cheeks. I smile at him, grateful for his presence.

Toph paws at my chest, snuggling into my body. Like always, Katara becomes jealous of her sister's attention, and she comes slinking behind the couch up to Joel. She struts up his leg, plopping down in the middle of his lap and shutting her eyes. 

“They’re fuckin’ somethin’ else,” Joel sneers, stroking Katar’s grey fur. I snicker in agreeance, setting Toph down in the sunlight on the floor in demonstration. Joel accepts the permission to remove my cat from his personal space, following suit carefully.

I glance at Joel’s face, admiring the constellation of freckles beneath a layer of dark circles. His hair is pushed back neatly with pomade and god, he looks edible. My heart quickens when I realize, I probably look a mess with makeup running down my face. 

He catches me staring and he licks his lips before asking, “What do you want for lunch?”

My brain mentally catalogs all the groceries Joe’s bought and stocked in my fridge. He figured if he’s going to make every meal, he might as well have what he needs. He insists he’s content with us staying in our respective lanes. After all, he’s just as excited for the dessert surprise at the end of the meal as Ellie is. 

Figuring I can’t be picky since I’m not cooking, I decide to let him choose. “Whatever you want. I’m going to go clean myself up and get changed,” I inform him, frowning at my appearance.

Joel seemingly notices my self-judgment and sits up, pulling my face closer with my hands. “I think you’re gorgeous, sugar,” he compliments before pressing a chaste kiss on my forehead.

My skin tingles from the warmth and I can't help but smile into the sign of affection. However, my insecurity doesn't drown, grabbing my hair and pulling me back from the gorgeous man I call mine. “You’re a liar, but it’s fine,” I murmur, using his shoulders to stabilize myself as I stand.

His strong arms wrap around my body holding me close. “I wudn’t lie to you,” he promises, and I nearly become weak in the knees from that accent.

I hum in reply, deciding it’s my turn to steal a kiss from him. I haven't tasted him in a couple days when I visited him and Ellie, and I’m starting to feel like I'm forgetting a piece of him. My body lowers until we’re at eye level, and the air between us zaps. 

He never fails to make me feel this way. Thunder rumbles in my stomach and lightning strikes low in my abdomen. It’s confusing, but I welcome every second of it.

Joel becomes impatient with my hovering and he brushes our lips together. The kiss is sweet and I smile into it before parting my lips. He swirls his tongue around mine while cradling my body into his. 

We continue for a few moments before I need to come up for air, and I disconnect immediately looking down at his reddened lips. I press one final peck to them before getting up, for real this time.

Joel pats me on the behind as I walk out of the room before he stands himself with a grunt. Toph trails behind me into my bathroom, brushing up against my leg with a purr as I look in the mirror.

My reflection makes me want to start crying again. My throat fills with ache as I try to stuff the oncoming tears out. Sometimes I feel like I’m the only unattractive person I know. 

I push the thought out of my head and for my headband, securing my hair away from my face. After pumping face wash into my hand, I hum while massaging my face. The sticky layer of tear stains rinse down the drain and I feel a sense of relief.

Once my face is clean, I reach for my towel to dry it off when I feel something particularly fuzzy. I open my right eye, peering at the counter to see Toph's tail underneath my hand. “Fuck off, cat. No counters,” I scold my shadow, lifting and setting her on the floor with wet hands.

She wines as her paws hit the floor, and I grab a clean towel from the drawer. Why did I get two cats?

After patting my face dry and discarding the towels in the hamper, I walk out towards the kitchen. As I tip-toe down the hall, I can hear Joel shuffling about. When I round the corner, I lean against the wall with my arms crossed. It’s nice to admire him in moments like this, although he’s bound to look up towards my bathroom any minute.

As if the universe hit the play button on my vision, his eyes snap to mine. “Come,” he waves me over with a welcoming grin.

I stroll over behind him before I snake my arms around his waist. My front presses into his back and I catalog every flex of muscle in his body. His arm begins sliding with precision, perfectly cutting the potato in front of him into thin slices. “Fries?” I question out of curiosity. 

“And a burger your way,” he glances over his shoulder at me before returning to his chopping.

I press myself up on my tiptoes, placing a kiss on his shoulder blade. This man is perfect for me in every way. Caring for me, cooking for me, and giving me countless orgasms. My relationship with Ellie is just the cherry on top. Even if Joel and I ended things, I’d still want to be in her life.

The realization hits me like a truck and without thinking I stammer, “God, I lo–”  before cutting myself out.

My body chills to ice and the oxygen is sucked from my lungs in an instant. Joel pauses his movements and stands frozen in place. I take a step back from him, turning away from him.

I need to do something to distract him from the fact that I almost just said I love you.

I reach for the kettle to set some water on for tea, fumbling about with the top of the lid. “What’d’ya say, sugar?” Joel asks from behind me.

I shake my head, feeling the hole he’s staring in my head. If I confess right now, he might leave me like everyone does. He’ll call me a crazy person and forbid me to see Ellie.

Joel’s warm hand covers mine and I jerk, before peering down. I blink rapidly at the water spilling over the top of the filled pot. “Fuck,” I swear, turning off the water and dumping a bit out of the metal container.

I shake my hand dry before my eyes meet Joel. “You sure you okay?” Joel questions with furrowed brows.

I nod, putting the lid back on the kettle. It’s a mistake, him seeing me like this. All overwhelmed and in disarray. I obviously can’t even string together a cohesive thought.

My hands fiddle around with the stove, pressing buttons until the electric burners turn red. I set the kettle down on top, turning back to face Joel. 

My face turns scarlet when I see he hasn’t moved. He has instead settled into a position with one hand resting on top of the counter and the other on his hip. “I won’t call you a liar. But whatever it is, ’m here when you’re ready,” he offers lowly. 

And as if nothing happens, he moves back to preparing the potatoes. I finally exhale the breath I didn’t know I was holding. Thank god he’s not hell-bent on embarrassing me today.

Deciding to take the glorious out he’s presented me, I slide into the bar seat across from him, ready to watch my favorite pass time: Chef Joel Miller cooking in my kitchen. His brows furrow and his tongue sticks out of the side of his mouth when he’s intensely focused.

A lightbulb goes off in my head and I realize, I haven’t checked up on his Michelin Star journey. “Have 3 stars to your name yet?” I ask as he turns to fill a pot with water.

“Not quite. Heard rumors we’ve already got 2 visits though,” he explains and his voice bounces off the large window in front of him.

I nod and the corners of my mouth turn up. All I want is for those around me to succeed and he’s one step closer to his goal. “That’s great, that’s only one more left. It can’t be long now,” I chirp.

Joel leans on his left leg impatiently and I focus on his back. He inhales a long deep breath and I can tell he’s not as confident. “Yeah,” he grunts.

I brush a stray curl out of my face before observing, “You don’t sound so sure.”

He sighs before turning off the water. “I am. Thought about what you said that day and ’m worried my employee's customer service is being affected by my words, Gin.”

Fuck, he’s never called me Gin before. What I said must’ve been weighing on him. Shit, shit. Code red, Ginny. “Joel, it's fine. You’ve made the changes and the reviewers will see that,” I blabber out.

Joel carries the pot over to the stove. “I know, ’m just stressed and all,” he says while fiddling with the same buttons I was moments ago.

My body begins involuntary twisting and turning in the bar stool. Joel takes notice of the fact that I've used the tea water as a diversion, switching off the kettle as he goes. I snort and shake my head at how well he knows me.

“Wait until you actually get the stars,” I emphasize the horror of his future.

Joel picks out a pink towel from the drawer beneath his waist, quickly whipping his hands off.  “Yeah, I’ll be busy as hell."

“And it’ll be nice to have Ellie back in the bakery more,” I add excitedly.

Joel sighs and shakes his head. “I’ll have to get her into an afterschool program of some kind,” he responds.

My brows knit on my forehead watching him begin to prep the burger patties. “Why?” I ask.

He sets a bottle of seasoning down with a thunk and I know he means business. His deep chestnut eyes connect with my hazel ones and I know I’m no longer talking to my sweet, timid, Joel. I’m interacting with Chef Miller. “Cause you shouldn’t have to be responsible for her,” he grits through his teeth.

My lips purse and I cross my arms, slightly offended that he’d suggest I can’t handle hanging out with Ellie. “I think I can manage,” I theorize.

“I’m serious, Gin,” he argues.

“So am I. Ellie is the closest thing I have to a daughter. We already–” lied to the principal and staff at her school about our relationship. “Erm, she’s already here until close. What’s a few extra hours?” I finish as smoothly as possible, but I’m not sure Joel is buying it by the look on his face.

He raises a brow and his head tilts ever so slightly. “Are you sure?” he asks and I roll my eyes. If he asks again, my answer may be different.

There’s no reason for Ellie to join an afterschool program when she’s already comfortable here. “Positive. You are my boyfriend, Miller,” I conclude, quite finished with this conversation when the aftertaste from my words hit. “Partner,” I correct myself, looking down shyly.

“I love it when you call me that” I hear him say, causing a chuckle to slip from my throat.

We sit in comfortable silence for the remainder of the time Joel spends cooking. He occasionally glances up at me while bustling around the kitchen. Every time we make eye contact, my skin sets ablaze and I have to look away.

It seems childish to look away when your partner catches you staring. But he’s so goddamn sexy, I can’t help it. If I don’t look away, my carnal desires will replace my grief, and I’m not ready for that.

I wonder if Joel ever felt extremely horny and inappropriately happy in his grief. There’s only one way to find out.

I clear my throat, rapidly blinking away the fuzz of my thoughts. “Joel,” I murmur to get his attention.

He looks up from the set of plates, giving me a half smile. “Hmm. You ready to eat, sugar?” he asks, probably assuming I’m rushing him for food.

I don’t move from my spot to not give him the wrong idea. “Yeah but uh,” I start, pausing to pick at my nail polish.  “Can I ask you something?” I question softly.

Joel pops a French fry he dropped on the counter into his mouth. “Anythin',” he utters.

He slides my favorite meal over to me and I just about see stars. It takes everything I have in me to focus on the task at hand and not swallow the burger whole.

“How long did it take you to stop feeling guilty about being happy? You know, after…” I trail off, not wanting to bring up Sarah’s passing so bluntly.

His eyebrows raise and he leans back as if he was physically impacted by my words. Shock etches over his tan face and I immediately pick up a couple of french fries, awkwardly stuffing my mouth full. “Two years and Ellie was the first person I let in. Then you came along shortly after,” he confesses.

I quickly chew my food before gulping harshly. “Oh,” I murmur.

“Oh?” Joel counters with a tilt of his head.

I nod, picking up another fry. “Yeah, it’s not bad. It’s just that I don’t think I have two years,” I think out loud.

My eyes scan the counter for Joel’s signature barbeque sauce, anxious to dip try it with the crispy potatoes. “Be patient, sugar,” he scolds.

Joel seemingly notices my attention is elsewhere and suddenly, a tiny bowl of the brown condiment is set in front of me. I blush and give him a silent thank you with a half smile. “Never been too good at that,” I admit.

Picking up the burger, I examine it to see which side is the best for the first bite. “Oh I know,” I hear Joel say before our eyes connect. He tilts his head with a mischievous smirk on his face that sends fire into my cheeks. 

I shake my head at him before taking a huge bite of the juicy burger. The flavors dance on my taste buds reminding me of summer barbeques. “Mmmm, this is orgasmic,” I compliment my sexy chef.

He swallows his bite before asking, “Changed the seasoning. Taste alright?”

I nod, already ready to inhale the entire meal. “Joel, I didn’t know your burgers could get better. This is amazing,” I express.

“Well, if my toughest critic says it’s good, I’ll trust it,” he jokes and I chuckle.

Delicious food, passionate sex, and god's gift to humanity. I am the luckiest woman on earth.

The door flies open sending my eyes flying open and me jerking into Joel’s stomach. He groans before smoothing my curls with his palm. “It’s just Ellie,” he informs me she’s back from school.

I sigh, cuddling further into his body now that my anxiety has eased. “Hey,” his teenage daughter grunts when she comes into view.  

Ellie begrudgingly kicks her shoes off and drops her backpack to the side. If her body could talk, it would scream. “Bad day at school?” I observe.

She nods, picking up Toph who’s sitting in her spot on the couch. “Mmhm,” she grunts out just like her dad as she takes a seat.

“Well,” I start, tossing her the remote. “I’ll let you pick,” I offer her the once-in-a-lifetime chance.

She snickers, “No, you won’t.” She gives me a pointed look and asks, “What are my options?”

I purse my lips. She’s right, I’m just shitty she knows me so well. “Grey’s or SVU,” I answer.

Ellie nods, extending the remote in her hand to click through the app. Joel begins practically petting me again. “Sugar, you sure? Don’t wanna see you cryin’ no more,” Joel growls lowly as if seeing me cry and him not being able to control it pissed him off.

I can understand if he needs control over something, but today isn’t that day. “Positive,” I reassure him.

He nods, before placing his hand under my head and gently lifting it. “Sorry, sugar,” he grunts as he stands.

He turns towards the L-shaped couch with his hand on his hip, accentuating his slender waist and I practically start drooling. “What do you two want for dinner?” he questions, looking back and forth between us.

I prop my head up in my hand and look at Ellie who looks particularly glum. She’s curled into the couch, holding Toph like the animal is her lifeline. I sigh, feeling the urge to punch someone for hurting my baby creep into my veins again. “El, you can pick. I already had my favorite for lunch,” I urge her.

“Grilled cheese and tomato soup,” she requests, not even looking up at her father.

Joel clears his throat and raises his eyebrow. Ellie looks up and her eyes dart back and forth between me and Joel. I raise my eyebrow at her because she should know what he’s looking for.

It only takes Elle a few seconds when she gets it. “Please?” she adds, looking at Joel for confirmation.

He nods and walks off to the kitchen, away from earshot. I look over at Ellie whos depressed body language hasn’t changed. My hand pats the couch next to me. “Why are you so far away? We both know this is the best TV-watching spot,” I invite her over.

When she comes over, she’s usually right next to me giving me all the school gossip. But maybe it’s because Joel is here. She slides over, sinking into the cushion. “What’s up, El? You look all…” my voice trails off and I mimic her body language.

She huffs and rolls her eyes. “Dina,” she answers.

“Okay, what about Dina?” I ask. Fuck, teenagers are hard. I wish they’d just tell you the problem the easy way.

Ellie’s head snaps in my direction. “She has a crush,” she snips.

My eyebrows raise and I tilt my head. “And I’m guessing by your body language and your fucking tone,  you’re not her crush,” I lightly correct her.

She looks behind me and I assume she’s checking to see if Joel is still making us food. “No,” she states and her entire body shrivels. The rejection washes over her face and I want nothing more than to hug her.

My respect for her boundaries overrides my need for comfort. “Who does she have a crush on?” I counter.

Ellie gnaws on her lip for a moment like she’s reluctant to tell me. I understand, after all, Dina is working downstairs for me right now. “Jesse,” she tells me.

I rapidly blink, stunned by the news. “Jesse, delivery boy, Jesse?”

Ellie nods and my mouth forms an ‘o’ in response. I nod, understanding the gravity of this queer love triangle. Her shoulder hunch over even more and I decide it’s time to cheer her up with some words of encouragement.

“You know when I was a teenager, I had a crush on a girl who was dating our guy friend,” I divulge some of my past. Although she doesn’t know it involves Madi and Leo, she doesn’t need to know that to get the point.

“Really?” Ellie asks dumbfounded.

 I answer tight-lipped with a nod, “Mmmhm.”

“What happened?”

“I let it play out between the two of them. If it’s meant to be, it’ll be,” I tell her.

Ellie’s face scrunches and she looks weary of taking my advice. “Look, you don’t know if Dina likes you back right?”

Ellie shakes her head no. “Right, so don’t mess with the universe. If you’re meant to be, you’ll be. You never know, maybe a girl will come into the high school and shock the shit out of you,” I theorize.

Ellie rolls her eyes and scoffs, “I doubt that.”

“Keep your options open, El. Until you put a ring on someone’s finger,” I advise her. She’s a hot commodity and I’m going to tell her that every time she needs reminding. 

Joel’s head comes into view as he bends down to press a kiss on top of Ellie’s head. She lets out a blech noise, shrugging as far away from him as possible.

I laugh at the interaction while Joel simply shakes his head. “Dinner’s ready,” he alerts us.

When I peer over my shoulder, I see a delicious spread laid out. As always, Joel has beautifully plated 2 servings of grilled cheese and tomato soup. “Ooh, that looks good,” Ellie compliments her dad, setting Toph down and shooting up from the couch.

She darts into the breakfast nook, diving for the sandwich first. Her head tips back and she groans with satisfaction. “Good?” I slightly shout from the couch.

She nods her head, already moving on to try the soup. Joel chuckles and extends his hand to me. He knows I typically climb over the back of the couch and ever since my foot got caught on the couch that one time, he’s insistent on helping me over.

“Thank you,” I purr lowly, leaning in to press a quick kiss on his lips. 

When I lick my lips, I taste savory remnants of tomato from him tasting the soup. I blink rapidly at him stunned, feeling a similar wave of emotion as earlier. My butterflies erupt in my chest and my heart skips a beat, stumbling over the current.

Yup, that's definitely love.

I love Joel Miller and everything that comes with him. I love his deep raspy morning voice and the way his nostrils flare when he can’t quite get a recipe right. I love his southern twang and the furrow in his brows when he’s angry. 

The type of love I feel for him possesses every fiber in my body and takes over my brain. It wraps around my nervous system, acting on its own. It takes away all control I have and I don’t mind at all.

I adore Ellie and consider her to be one of my daughters. We’ve become so close these past few months and I can’t imagine a day without them in my routine. They’re the only two people I can stand around me all the time.

Joel clears his throat, bringing me back to the present. Reality smacks me like a truck and I blush. “You alright there, sugar?” Joel questions, voice laced with concern.

The corners of my mouth curve into a smile. “Yeah, I genuinely don’t know what just happened. I look at you and my mind goes blank. I think I'm going nuts,” I chuckle, slightly lying. 

When I look at him, my eyes turn into hearts and pop out of my head with my tongue rolled out like the red carpet. When our eyes connect, he makes me feel like I’m the only person he’s ever been interested in romantically. Which can’t be possible considering Sarah came from somewhere.

We join Ellie and the kittens playing by her feet at the breakfast nook and a comfortable silence falls over the table. My mother always said you know the food is good when it’s silent, and we’re not much for dinner conversations around here.

Joel reaches forward and pours me a glass of wine before pouring himself some. “Guess you two are staying the night?” I ask, pointing out that whenever Joel drinks with me, they usually end up crashing.

Joel raises his eyebrows as if he’s daring me to contest, taking a sip of his wine. “If that’s okay with you?” he questions, probably trying to hide the fact that he’s not going to leave me alone tonight.

I pick up my spoon, dipping it into the soup. “It is, but I was thinking I’d come to yours tonight. El has school in the morning,” I attempt to compromise.

Ellie rolls her eyes and groans, “That sucks, my bed here is more comfortable.”

Joel begins prepping to eat and I’ve never seen someone be so meticulous about such a thing. He lays a cloth napkin into his nap and I raise my eyebrow, wondering what hell of a closet he dug those out of. 

“It’s not your bed, Ellie. We don’t live here,” Joel corrects her and I shovel the soup in my mouth. It’s the perfect amount of savory and sweet. 

Joel picks up the sandwich and takes a bite, nodding at the taste. While his mouth is full, I decide to insert a suggestion, “No, but El, next time you’re here, you should bring some clothes just in case. That way you don’t have to wear my clothes whenever you want to stay over.”

Ellie responds without skipping a beat, “Sounds good.” 

I turn my attention back to my meal and my mind mentally drifts off. Christmas is soon so maybe I can tell him then. I don’t want to trauma bond with him right now and Christmas is a happy time. “I cleared a drawer out for you already,” Joel announces and I nearly choke on my sandwich.

“You what?” I blurt, my mind swirling with information.

In my peripheral, I see Ellie’s head going back and forth between me and Joel. “That too much? I’ll fill it back up. ‘s just some of my long sleeves,” he stammers.

“No!” I shout a bit too loudly, my body becoming hot when I realize the gravity of my tone. “I mean no, the drawer isn’t too much. I think it’d be too much if I moved in right now,” I add.

Joel nods, content with my answer, returning to his meal. “When you two move in together, can we move here?” Ellie asks, refusing to read the weight of awkwardness in the room.

Joel clears his throat and he straightens his posture a bit. Sensing his uncomfortability, I step in to talk for the both of us, “We haven’t talked about that yet, El. But when it comes to it, I’d be happy to have you here.”

“Yay!” Ellie celebrates and I take a bite of my grilled cheese. It has the perfect amount of pull and my eyes are probably sparkling with admiration for Joel at the moment.

I chew and swallow before adding, “We’ll have to move eventually though. We need a house that we’ve all picked.” I would never sign a dotted line on a new place without Ellie and Joel’s approval at this stage in our relationship. I think we’ll be together for a long time, so I want to be considerate.

Ellie perks up again, “Really?”

I nod, glancing at Joel who has completely stopped eating at this point. “Mmhm, by then you’ll be 18 and you can have this place,” I continue my conversation with Ellie, knowing he’ll holler at any time he feels I’m overstepping.

Joel’s jaw clenches as I fight a snort, assuming he’s started stewing. “The bakery?” she asks, voice laced with confusion.

I set my spoon down and give her a knowing look. “No, El. Do you like baking?” I quip.

She shrugs, dipping her sandwich into her bowl. “Eh, it’s not my calling,” she admits before taking a bite.

“Exactly. I was talking about the apartment. You can have it when we eventually move out,” I foretell, motioning between me and her father with my hand.

“Gin,” Joel pulls my attention to him. When I glance down, his hands are balled tight into a fist, one wrapped tightly around a stainless stem spoon.

If he squeezes any more, he’ll bend my cuterly. And it’s completely unnecessary. “Joel, I’m not letting your child pay $1,000 in rent when we’ll have at least one empty apartment that’s completely paid off. Try again,” I dare him to argue.

Joel sighs but his body stays wound up. “She’s gonna be spoiled.”

I whip my head in Ellie's direction. “I don’t think you’re spoiled, are you, El?”

“Not in the slightest,” Ellie says through a shit-eating grin.

My head whips back toward Joel who isn’t the slightest bit amused by our display. “See, she gets the apartment, we get a new house,” I pause waiting for his face to change. When it remains stone cold, I add my secret tactic by purring, “alone,” into his ear. 

When I straighten my back, his eyes look like they’re about to pop out of his head. Anticipation flickers in his eyes and I know I’ve hooked him to the idea.

Joel’s body slowly starts to relax, but Ellie puts the cherry on top. “And everyone’s happy. Maybe Dina would move in with me. Holy shit this is gonna be awesome,” she practically bounces, and the wood beneath her creaks.

“Slow your roll, kiddo. You’ve still got 4 years,” Joel warns and I kick him lightly under the table for taking the excitement out of everything. I want her to keep a hopeful possibility of romance with Dina and he’s ruining it.

Ellie opens her mouth but I step in before the pair can start arguing. “Speaking of totally awesome, what do you want for Christmas, El?” 

“I’m getting something for Christmas?” asks dumbfoundedly. 

“Umm, yeah. Why wouldn’t you be?”

Ellie shrugs and a rain cloud of trauma drifts in over her head. I watch as the sorrow rain falls on top of her head and my heart drops to my ass.  “I don’t know. Guess I’m just not used to it.”

I bite my lip, trying to keep it together for her. No child should have to go a December without a gift. I try my best to plaster on a fake smile to perk her up. “Well, I already have most of your gifts but I thought I’d ask you,” I tell her.

As if on command, the cloud of depressing memories is swapped for a blazing sun. “Really?” she gleans.

“Really. I love Christmas. It’s the busiest holiday for the bakery though.” I mentally curse the upcoming bustle, taking a sip of my wine.

Ellie chomps the last of her sandwich down, chewing slowly like she’s in deep thought. A sparkle comes over her eyes when it looks like she’s finally got it. “Well, some new paintbrush sets would be nice. I saw some watercolors on Instagram that are cool,” she hints.

“Send them to me,” I request.

“Okay,” she smiles, reaching into her back pocket to pull out her phone.

I smile at my hunky boyfriend, ready to point out the receipts of Ellie’s personality traits. “See, Joel. That is not a spoiled child. Madi would’ve asked for a Gucci bag and a stamp on her passport when we were younger.”

Ellie’s head perks up from her phone. “Wait, that’s an option?” she clarifies sarcastically. 

“No,” Joel barks at the same time as I offer, “Ask Madi.” 

Joel frowns in my direction and I quickly add, “We don’t have that type of money but Madi does and she’s always ready to spend it on someone. If you want something really expensive, she’s the one to ask.”

Joel's elbows come down on the table quite hard and he puts his head in his hands. “Gin,” he groans.

“What? Madi’s like her aunt or whatever now. She’s obligated by girl code to help her out,” I inform him, picking up my spoon. At this point, the utensil is useless. The food’s so good, I’m ready to drink the rest of the bowl down.

“Spoilin’ her ain’t helpin’,” he scolds me.

I blow the steaming liquid in front of my face. “No, but Ellie knows the value of money to know the difference between dinner at the estate versus dinner at the breakfast nook,” I say before taking a bite.

“Yeah, this sucks,” Ellie sarcastically grumbles, before picking up the soup and slurping the last bit of it.

I snicker, dipping the last of my sandwich into the soup. I never thought I could be this content after my parents passed but here I am, enjoying the anniversary of their death with my two favorite people.

I peer under the table at the sleeping cats and smile. I need to focus on the two people that I have a future with and a life with, not the two who are long gone. It’s what my mother would want for me, anyway. The girl that hooked me onto the man that I love. Fuck. I’ve got to find a better time to tell him.

[pinkpastels113]

Bechloe accidental first kiss

Beca, of course, had always thought about kissing Chloe. She’s beautiful, warm, and quite frankly the whole reason Beca is having such a great time at Barden. Beca’d come to the realization that she had a crush on her best friend ages ago, and every day that came after that was just another day that Beca had to stifle the urge to do just that.

She thought about how soft Chloe’s lips would be- she always saw her reapply her chapstick religiously- and dreamed about how cute it would feel like to stand up on her tip toes and wrap her arms around Chloe’s shoulders. She wanted to have Chloe hold her as more than a friend, in places more than just the couch in the Bella House.

Beca is not completely sure that Chloe likes her back- no matter what Stacie or Emily or anybody else says- so that’s why she hasn’t yet made her move. She’s not a complete wimp- she’d made out with Jesse in front of all those people in Lincoln Center after all- but she is not going to be rejected by her best friend, damn it. Beca doesn’t think that she can’t take it, the awkwardness nor the loss of friendship. Chloe is her favorite person, ever, in the world, and Beca doesn’t know what she would do with herself if she ruined that.

The only problem was, Chloe is touchy. She touched Beca everywhere, on the arm whenever she laughs, the hand whenever she wants to listen to some music that Beca had mixed, the waist whenever she wishes to get by. Normally Beca is used to it, but sometimes she still gets caught off guard and jumps whenever she is not paying attention.

Such as today.

"Okay, okay," Chloe says, trying to catch everybody's attention. "We have the decorations here, Jessica and Ashley are going to put on the music, and Beca is laying out the cookies. The Trebles are going to be here in about an hour girls, let's move it."

Why Beca had agreed to take care of the baking, she does not know. Certainly not because Chloe had tried her mom's chocolate chip cookie recipe last week and begged Beca to recreate it, that's just too pathetic.

Beca sighs, folding in the chocolate chips. She has one more step to go, and then she can shove them in the oven and never think about it again. Chloe can take them out. It was her idea anyway.

Finished with gently laying in the chocolate with the dough, Beca goes to look for the scooper. She opens the drawer where they usually keep it, but it's not there.

"Hey, Chlo! Where's the scooper? I need it for the cookies."

"Hm?" Chloe glances back over her shoulder from the living room, where she is taping a string of Christmas lights from the ceiling. "Oh I think I have it in my room. I used it last night for some ice cream."

Beca raises her eyebrows. "For some ice cream? Really? That's like... a pretty big spoon, don't you think?"

Chloe huffs, rolling her eyes. There is a smile on her lips and Beca is proud that she placed it there. Teasing is too much fun. "Well I have a pretty big appetite, especially for sweet stuff like ice cream. You know that."

"Uh huh." Beca is already washing her hands and making her way into Chloe's bedroom. "I should have put salt in these cookies then, so you wouldn't eat them all."

Chloe's room is a mess. Books on her bed, clothes on the floor, bra hanging over a desk chair. Beca tries not to stare at it as she turns around in a circle to locate the ice cream/cookie scooper. Knowing Chloe, it could be under her bed for all Beca knew. She was just about to bend down and pull the comforter over when something catches her eye.

A journal. On Chloe's pillow.

It was open to two pages, left side scribbled on, right side with a drawing. Ethically, Beca knows that she shouldn't, but curiosity gets the better of her when she sees something written in Chloe's loopy lettering that might be her name. Stepping over a novel from some Russian author, Beca picks the journal up.

She barely had time to register that the drawing was of her bent over her laptop when Chloe pinches her waist. "Hey I found it-"

Beca practically jumps out of her skin at the sudden contact. "Jesus Chr-"

Chloe's mouth brushes the corner of Beca's. They both freeze. Beca's hands slip on the journal balancing in her palm and it tumbles down to her feet but neither seems to notice. They're too busy trying to understand what just happened. Beca's face is turned towards Chloe's and her heart is making itself known in her ribcage with the speed at which its beating. Her brain sizzled and sparked like a backup generator kicking into gear in a blackout.

They're still standing two inches apart. Beca's eyes look into Chloe's and Chloe's look back, both surprise and a little bit of fear reflected in those bright blues. Chloe seems to hesitate, before pulling her hand away from Beca's body. When Beca didn't make an effort to move, or push her away, Chloe swallows, and opens her mouth.

"Look, Beca, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that."

Beca blinks. Dazedly. "What?" Holy crap, Chloe Beale just kissed her. "About what?"

Chloe gestures between them. "That." Her breath is warm and smells like candy, and god, her lips look so soft. "We shouldn't have kissed. I scared you, and you hadn't been paying attention, and I really do want to kiss you, like so so freaking bad, but like not like this, and I'm sorry that if this means that our friendshi-"

And this time, Beca kisses her. Because Chloe just confirmed that she likes Beca back, and Beca is not a wimp. She kisses her like she imagined she would, and her arms wrapped around Chloe's shoulders and her feet goes to stand on tip toes and Chloe's smile is indeed soft and sweet and tastes like candy and Beca is so glad that she agreed to bake her cookies tonight.

Chloe pushes Beca down onto her bed. Her teeth nips on Beca's bottom lip before trailing to her neck and Beca can feel herself shiver. "You really shouldn't have been going through my journal, either, y'know."

"Yeah well, I have a pretty big appetite, especially for mysterious stuff like journals. You know that."

Chloe laughs, right into Beca's skin. Her fingers brush on Beca's thighs and Beca starts, again, because she really doesn't think she can ever get over Chloe suddenly touching her in all the right places. "I do now."

[garbinge]

Charming Life (7/?)

Opie Winston x Teller!SisterOC Joanne ‘Jo’ Teller Jax Teller & OC Joanne Teller 30 Day Fic Challenge (18/30)

Chapter Index 

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: All my fics are 18+ regardless of content. Siblings fighting again, light angst, but other than that mostly fluffy.

Charming Life Taglist: @drabbles-mc​ @livingdeadblondequeen​ @justreblogginfics @chloe-skywalker @kmc1989

“Hey.” Opie’s voice caused Jo to turn around, almost knocking over her salon chair. 

“Hey.” She laughed and steadied herself. 

“You alright?” He frowned, taking a step closer to her. “Yea, sorry just a weird day.” 

“Micky?” Opie frowned and asked. 

“No, why? What do you know?” The girl got nervous, quick. 

“Nothin’, no. Just see you get like this when it’s gotta do with that piece of shit.” 

“For once my problems have nothing to do with him.” She laughed and ran her hands through her hair again. 

Opie frowned looking for an answer from her and she just shook her head. “Jax and I got into it, feel like we haven’t fought like that since we were teenagers and I was yelling at him to turn his music down or he was pushing me down the stairs to get the passenger seat the rare times Gemma took us to school. This was bad, Ope. He said some awful shit.” 

“I remember way worse fights than that.” Opie laughed and wrapped his arm around Jo as he recalled the fight he witnessed first hand. “Think he asked you what it’s like to be so perfect and it snowballed from there.” 

“I pushed him in Gemma’s azaleas, she still hasn’t forgiven me for that.” Her head was pressed against Opie’s chest. 

“He’ll come around.” He was now rubbing her back with his arm. “How you holding up about Luanne?” 

“I’m fine, more worried about my mom. She asked to watch Dil today, think she’s trying to break the cloud around her.” Jo spoke still soaking in every minute of this embrace with Opie. 

“You off work?” Opie asked, hoping it meant he could spend some time with Jo. 

“No, I have a 4:30 client. Who always shows up late and wants a full head of highlights, shit take’s forever.” She sighed. “What’re you doing tonight?” She peeled away from his chest to look up at him. “Want to hang then? I can pick the kids up and have ‘em sleep at my place. We could watch a movie.” She shrugged. 

Opie sighed and dipped his head. “I’ve got club shit tonight. Don’t worry about the kids, Bobby’s sister is watching them.” 

Jo looked up and raised her eyebrows. “You’d be better having Bobby himself watch them.” She teased. “I’ll pick them up, they can stay at my place. Dil loves having them around, I think she breaks them out of their shell.” 

“She does, Ellie was mumbling that song Dillon is always singing around the club the other day. I’m lucky to get her to say more than 5 words a day.” Opie laughed. 

“See. I’ll pick ‘em up after this client. I’ll see you in the morning.” Jo leaned up and placed a quick kiss to Opie’s lips. It was still an unsure thing, the two hadn’t really discussed anything, which was typical, but one thing that was certain without words was something shifted with them. 

“Everything’s going to be okay.” Opie caught Jo’s head before she pulled away too far. 

“I really hope that’s true.” She closed her eyes and before another word could come from her mouth, another kiss was being placed on her lips, this one more passionate than the one she left on Opie, this one he was holding her close like taking any time away from doing exactly this would paralyze him, but his touch was light and tender on her so as not to make her uncomfortable. The kiss was long, and Jo practically melted into him again. She felt the butterflies in her stomach full force, still almost a dream to her that this was her reality. 

_____

As Jo pulled into TM the next morning, she saw Gemma walking from the office to her car. 

“Hey!” She called to her mother before stepping out of the car. Gemma turned and frowned. 

“What’re you doing here so early?” 

“Wanted to check in on you, plus I’m meeting Opie, going to grab breakfast with everyone.” She pointed to her backseat which had all 3 kids. 

Gemma smirked and thought to ask more questions but held off. “I’m headed to give Wayne a ride. Just needed to drop off some paperwork I brought home last night.” 

“How you holding up?” Jo genuinely asked her mother. 

“I’m fine.” She answered quickly and clearly lying straight through her teeth. 

“Here if you need anything.” Joanne spoke just as the rumbles of motorcycles began to sound from down the street. 

“Looks like your breakfast date awaits you.” Gemma’s eyebrows raised and she smiled again before peering into the car to see the kids. 

Jax and Opie pulled up. Opie offered a quick wave as he moved to debrief with the rest of the guys, leaving Jax by himself. Jo would have easily ignored her younger brother if it wasn’t for Dillon undoing her belt and opening the car door to run towards him. 

“Uncle Jax!” She called out as she ran faster than Jo’s head could wrap around what she was doing. 

Without a second guess, Jax was kneeling to the ground to pick the girl up, all smiles on his face. “What’s up Dillybear.” She was now settled in his arms. “Going to breakfast, I’m going to get waffles, french toast, bacon, sausage, maybe hashbrowns,” she started listing off every breakfast food there was before catching her mother’s eyes and frowned. “and a cup of fruit yogurt because mom makes me.” 

“Yea mom can be annoying, can’t she.” Jax said knowing Jo was in full earshot to hear it. 

“So annoying, I hate the yogurt cup.” She crossed her arms and pouted. 

“Dillon, c’mon get back in the car, we’re gonna head out soon.” Jo’s voice was stern. 

“Do I have to eat the yogurt cup.” She tried to negotiate, a tactic she probably picked up from Gemma. 

“Yes, but if you eat the yogurt cup you’ll get chocolate chips in your pancakes.” 

“Deal.” The little girl was squirming out of Jax’s arms and running back to the car. 

“I don’t appreciate you negating me to my kid.” 

“It wasn’t a big deal, relax.” Jax laughed it off, annoyed himself. 

“Nothing’s a big deal to you because you don’t have to deal with it, it’s Jax’s world and we’re all just living in it.” 

“You really want to start this right now?” Jax looked like he was eager to fight with her. 

“I didn’t start shit, Jax. You started this by keeping that shit to yourself.” She pointed at him, it took everything in her not to step up and let her finger lay into him. 

“Can you just trust that I’m going to fix shit?” 

“You can’t seem to trust me, why should I trust you?” She pinned it back on him. 

“Call me when you grow up.” Jax was walking past the girl, shaking his head. 

“Jax!” Jo turned and it caught everyone’s attention but that didn’t bother her at all. “Call me when you actually want to be a brother!” 

It wasn’t a monumental diss, but it sure did get her point across. 

____

Breakfast was silent besides the kids murmuring and giggling to each other. It really was true, the three of them really brought out each other's personalities. While Kenny and Ellie became more vocal and out of their shell, they showed Dillon that she didn’t always have to be into the adult conversations. It was something that came with being an only child, she’d find herself in the mix of the adults, but now she had kids around her age more frequently to keep her occupied from that. 

“You wanna talk about it?” Opie casually brought up the tension as he picked at his plate. 

“No.” Jo was aggressively stabbing her pancakes. 

“Can I have your bacon?” Dillon was peering over at Opie’s plate. He let out a chuckle and looked to Jo for her permission to which she nodded. 

“Here, each of you get a piece.” He handed each kid one. 

“See you just have to ask, they normally say yes.” Dillon thought she was whispering perfectly but it just earned her another chuckle from Opie. 

“I’m so full.” He leaned back in his chair and looked at the kids. Dillon was so quick to copy him by leaning back as well and rubbing her belly.

“Ahhh, me too.” 

“You’re a funny kid, you know that, Dill.” Opie was smiling looking down at her. 

“Can we get pancakes every Sunday.” Kenny was leaning forward on the table, while his feet dangled. 

“If the schedule allows it, I don’t see why not.” Opie said with a shrug. 

“No, like all of us.” Ellie spoke up, still a shy voice, but learning to break out of it. 

This made Jo look up and she saw that the girl was looking between her and Dillon. 

“Yea, Ellie girl, I’d like that a lot.”

[rachelsshowerthoughts]

Aware AU:

Nino peaked his head back inside the class where Adrien was slowly but surely extricating himself from the last few over eager fans with Sabrina's help.

'Wait, where's Cloe?'

Naturally, Nino nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard a familiarly sharp voice whisper.

"You are waiting for Adrien." It was not a question, it sounded more like an order.

But once Nino's heart stopped slamming into his chest and he actually looked at Chloe he saw a certain degree of squinting confusion and what he guessed was restrained suspicion given her thoughtful posture.

Shrugging he answered, "That I am... Dudette, said I'd show him the arcade across the street during the free study period."

'This is probably the part where she threatens me to stay away from her trophy husband... Or reveals they're actually secret space elves just reunited after a thousand years. Who knows todays' been weird.'

Instead of either of those things Nino got to watch a veritable rainbow of emotions run the gamut across Chloe's face. The girl was always harsh but she wore her heart in her sleeve, so that didn't surprise him but the sheer range of emotions and just how quickly they shut down was new.

Suspicion, anger, worry, nervousness, excitement, sadness? Then back around to suspicious but no longer directed at him but towards the great doors that led into school.

"Good..." She finally said, voice not quite matching its usual confidence or haughtiness. "That is... Good. I shall go and make sure the coast is clear... For you two I mean."

With that painfully stilted exchange she strutted off and Nino had to take a moment to process her exact words.

"Uh, you know we aren't skipping class right?" he called after her.

Chloe flicked her ponytail and called back, "Its not our frail school rules that concern me!"

'What the heck does that mean?'

The door to class slid open and Adrien's cheery and very customary service sounding voice rang out.

"Its been so nice meeting you all, but I can't be late for a very important," He let the word linger a second, and one could almost hear his fans sucking in breaths full of dread that he might say date.

Before Adrien smiled wanely and finished with, "Trip," with that he gave a charming wink and spun away from the door. Sabrina sealing it shut as she followed him out.

The perfect poise dropped for just a second, shoulders slumping, breath easing as he sighed. Then Adrien's body seemed to almost zap itself back into form as green eyes searched the halls, once, twice, three-

"Nino!" He called said, voice nearly bubbling with laughter and nerves as he held his hand out to shake before blushing and starting to pull it away.

"Sup man," Nino held out his hand for a fist bump and was rewarded with that and the nervousness Adrien was showing diminishing.

"Thanks for waiting, and uh, sorry about all that."

"Eh not your fault." Nino pushed himself off the wall and motioned for Adrien o follow him, Sabrina at his side like a loyal assistant. "Though you do know you could have said no right?"

Adrien chuckled nervously, "That'd not go down well, and I certainly wouldn't want to upset anyone."

'How is it in any world you are friends with Chloe?' He wanted to ask.

Instead, Sabrina piped up, "Chloe's sorry about the fan swarm, we knew it was going to happen, so the best we could do was try and keep it, well contained."

"Its fine," Adrien said with a wave of his hand. "I know you guys were looking out for me, though where is Chloe? I thought she said she needed to check on something?"

"I think that was me," Nino said as they approached the school doors, "Asked me what the plan was and then went to see if the coast was clear?" He let that hang, hoping for some elaboration.

What he got was Sabrina sucking in a breath and Adrien's face flickering shifting into a worried grimace before back to its usual smile. "I'm sure its just-"

"That simpering bitch!" Chloe's voice snarled as she finished storming her way back up the schools steps and at the sight of them shot forward. Her arms snaking around Nino & Adrien's she dragged them back inside. Sabrina gamely following along and pushing the heavy school doors shut.

"Woah, where's the dog?" If Nino was being to charitable with his guess on her language, the fact he wouldn't strictly put it passed Chloe to unleash a hellhound to keep people in or out of school was compensating.

Untangling herself from their arms, Chloe motioned to the windows, a vicious scowl on her face and her chest heaving like she was seconds away from mauling someone.

"Chloe, I can wait, but what happened?"

The blonde girl took a few sharp breaths as she massaged her temples and finally said. "I'm sorry Adri-kins, but the wicked witch of the west and your father land bound simian are still here."

'... What?' Nino would really like this day to start making sense.

Adrien's expression though grew stormy and all it took was a quick peak through the windows for him to drop the model manners entirely. A pained groan escaping his mouth as he rubbed his face.

"Gods, seriously, its been three hours. Doesn't she have a job?"

"I think this is her job," Sabrina said, more neutrally, but the mousy girls glare was surprisingly intense.

"Well she should get a new one, other than being on Gabriel's fucking leash. Oh who am I kidding she probably likes it."

"Chloe!" Adrien crowed, sounding more disgusted than offended.

"Sorry!" A word Nino never expected to sound as genuine or as panicked when coming from Chloe.

Curiosity beyond boiling, Nino took a peak out the window and saw a woman in a purple pantsuit with dark hair, an utterly gargantuan man in a dark blue suit, both standing next to a limo like there were expecting someone. And they were parked right in front of the schools steps.

"So uh, what am I looking at here?"

Turning around he saw Chloe starting to turn red before Adrien's hand clapped down on her shoulder and she visibly deflated.

Then Adrien glanced at him "That's Nathalie, my fathers assistant and my...." His brow knitted together, "Manager I suppose."

Chloe sniffed haughtily, "Keeper would be more accurate. Warden perhaps?"

"That'd be the Gorrilaz," Sabrina offered as she slid up to the other girl.

"Whatever the case," Adrien said with a tired sigh, "She and my bodyguard were sent to keep me from coming to school today. They almost got me, but Chloe caused a scene and I slipped by. I figured they'd go home, but apparently not, and the second I leave school grounds..."

Sabrina clapped her hands, "The big guy will put those child nabbing classes to work.

"Pretty much yeah," Rubbing the back of his head, Adrien sighed, "Sorry, not sure I can join you at the arcade today, thanks for the invite though. and please don't le me hold you up."

Chloe cut in sharply, "No apologies. Its hardly your fault, Gabriel's a miserable control freak and Nathalie's his loyal henchwoman."

"I know, but I still put Nino out."

"Well-" Chloe stopped herself as Sabrina whispered something in her ear and Chloe just let her head lol back groaning. "Ugh, more phatic communication? Fine, whatever! Nathalie's still a bitch though, I stand by that!"

Adrien just rolled his eyes fondly, before turning back to Nino.

In that moment several things re-worked, re-aligned and re-slotted themselves in his brain, and a red alarm signal began flaring.

Showing none of it, Nino rolled his shoulders and grinned, "No big deal dude. Though how are you planning on attending again if your dads that dead-set against it?"

Adrien chuckled, "Good question," his head turned to Chloe who straightened up and smirked.

"Don't fret Adri-kins, I have it all in hand, in fact... This might even help, Sabrina, fetch Madame Bustier, I need to make a phone call."

As Sabrina raced off, Nino glanced at Chloe, eyebrow arched, "Your dad?"

"Hah! My father stand up to Gabriel? You must have him mistaken for something with a vestige of a spine, like a jellyfish or a mollusk." She pulled out her phone and began flicking through the contacts, "No this will be someone much more useful. Adri-kins, I'm going to be tied up with this for the rest of lunch, sorry."

"I'll live, I still need to actually..." He began patting his backpack and sighed, "Right, uh..."

Nino casually slung an arm around the blonde's shoulder, "Let me direct you to the cafeteria my man, where a menagerie of semi passable dishes and the occasional disaster awaits."

Adrien brightened far more than he had any right to, "That sounds amazing." He glanced back at Chloe who just made a "Shoo shoo" motion, before hitting dial and turning back to the door.

There was something vicious and victorious in her expression and posture. 'Well, at least that's familiar,' Nino decided as he led Adrien down the hall and passed Sabrina and Madame Bustier as they raced by.

'If nothing else, its not like this day can get any weirder,' he decided.

_____

"Sir, it seems Adrien had Chloe play lookout and she's warned him we're awaiting him."

A sigh echoed through the phone, "This would not be happening if you had just done your duties in the first place."

"I know sir, it won't happen again," Nathalie said, looking at the already cringing security guard with every measure of disdain she could muster.

"If nothing else..." Gabriel intoned, "I think what comes next should be rather demonstrative as to why its safest Adrien stay home. Remain on standby, and expect to move soon."

Nathalie felt something uncomfortable settle in her stomach before she murmured, "Yes sir," and hung up.

Then, she folded her arms and waiting for what was to come, while elsewhere in Paris, a butterfly flapped its wings.

oooooh noooooo!

(Also, fuck yeah kids, stick it to the old people!)

Nino: *concern*

Adrien & Chloé: *'casual' conversation*

Nino: *concern INTENSIFIES*

Akuma shows up. Nino: fuck, I jinxed it.

Later

Nino: "So, sorry your first day at school was so crumby."

Adrien: "Are you kidding!? Today was awesome! I love school!"

Nino: *internally* "Don't jump to conclusions, it might not be as bad as you think it is, sure this all looks and sounds awful but it probably isn’t murder-worthy-"

Adrien: "So, now that Chloé's fixed it so I can actually attend, we can do that arcade thing tomorrow? If you want! I bet Chloé would like it too, we weren't allowed- I mean, neither of us have ever been!"

Nino: "Sure man!" *internal* "Remember, don't jump to conclusions, murder is illegal, you're to young to go to prison-"

Also, Sabrina & Chloé: a glimpse into future badassery.

(Sidenote, I don't know what ships you're doing for AwareAu, but my personal favs are usually Chloé/Kagami, and Sabrina/Luka. Chlogami probably doesn’t need any explanation, but Sabrina/Luka is my fav rarepair. I know they don’t interact much in canon, but I love them? Like. Just, Sabrina always seems so tense and anxious, Luka so calm and laid back, but both are people who give a lot of themselves to others, I feel like they'd balance each other out. Also, I love the thought of Roger's face when he learns she's dating one of Anarka's kids. 😂)

I do like the implication that the Gorilla (I headcanon his name is Henri) "let" Adrien slip by. Like "whoops, he totally got past me! No idea how that happened!".

(the Fan thing reminded me of an old AU I thought about, Mob!AU, based on Adrien's fans in Gorizilla. Basically, after he starts going to school, his fans start flocking to the school, making it really hard for him to get in and out of the building, and the whole class banding together to sneak Adrien in and out without being spotted, and all the shenanigans they get up to doing that.)