#the feelings have been great today but also the events now that I think about it
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Happy 10 Year Doctor Who Anniversary to me!! đGenuinely crazy that Iâve loved this silly little space show for a whole decade đ
#the impact this show has had on my life over the past 10 years is immense#realising Iâm gay choosing to do a teaching degree helping me to understand my autism helping me heal trauma making me cry and laugh and#act generally crazy#and not to mention the people it has brought into my life friendships irl and online (some crossing over both) the creators writers and#actors of the show and expanded universe I have had chance to meet and connect with I just would be a completely different person without it#also all the media it has led me too which have all brought me even more fun and joy#the feelings have been great today but also the events now that I think about it#a girl in my lecture was wearing 4âs scarf so I talked to her for the first time and my cy crush said sheâd love to watch it with me itâs#been a fun one!#hereâs to the next decade (and letâs be honest the many after that)#doctor who#classic who
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I see a lot of people joking about the adhd thing of "I have a appointment/phone call at 3pm, guess I won't do anything all day!"
But no one seems to make the connection that it's a time blindness thing. One of the symptoms of ADHD is not having a good and accurate sense of time. And not doing stuff prior to an event with a hard deadline is an obvious coping mechanism for that.
Can I go to the store? It's 10am and the appointment is at 3pm. How long does going to the store take? An hour? Three hours? Five hours? I DON'T KNOW!
I get anxious trying to do things before appointments because I'm aware that I don't know how long those things take, and that if I think I do, I may be very wrong. Too often I've been like "hey I can walk to the corner store and grab a drink, that'll take like 15 minutes!" and then an hour later I get back and whoops my rice has burnt.
Plus there's also the fact that ADHD people know that motivation and focus is a two-edged sword.
Like, let's say you decide to play a video game. You've got time, you can pause/save whenever, so this should be a perfect fit to make good use of your waiting-time. So you start playing and WHOOPS you get really focused for some reason today (because people with ADHD do not get to pick when their brain decides to focus) and the next time you look at the clock it's 2:49 and you haven't showered or dressed and the appointment is 30 minutes away. Fuck. (you could have set an alarm, but now you're asking people with the forgetting-things-and-time-ignoring condition to remember it set alarms)
And with motivation, it can be almost worse. Instead of playing a game, you so something useful or creative. You clean your room or fix your plumbing or write a story or draw a picture. And suddenly it's great. Your brain is firing on all cylinders. You've got all the motivation you can ask for, and you are FLYING. the ideas are brilliant, your hands are nimble, you're getting stuff done you've been putting off for weeks or months. And then the alarm goes off. Time to go to your appointment. Fuck.
You drive there, your brain still full of ideas and plans. But by the time you get back, the motivation is gone. You may still have the ideas but you don't have the drive to write them down. You can't force yourself to do it. Your sink is still in pieces. Your room is half-cleaned, and you have to shove all the sorted clothes into one big bin just so you have somewhere to sleep. You've left things half finished again, in a cycle that has been repeating your whole fucking life. It seems sometimes that nothing ever gets finished.
So next time you don't even start. There's not time. You've been burnt too many times. Why add another half-completed project to your pile of shame?
My point is that people seem to be going "lol I can't do anything all day if I have an appointment at 3pm" like this is a quirky "oh I'm so scatterbrained!" weirdness they alone have, and not a major complication of a disabling mental illness.
(and that's not even getting into the secondary effects. If you know that having an appointment ruins your whole damn day, you're going to avoid them. Even when it's things like "going to that party" or "meeting your friends for a drink/game" or "going to a movie with that cute girl from your math class". Things you should enjoy. Things that'd help you be social. Things that make you feel human.)
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LOVED YOU AT YOUR WORST - r.c series - SEVEN
pairings: ex!sweethearts; rafe x thornton!reader; rafe x sofia. chapter warnings: mentions of pregnancy, abortion, alcohol, drug consumption.
MASTERLIST
You never spent much time on The Cut, unless you were being dragged by duty, mostly charity events for the local populations, fundraisers for their schools usually.
You always showed up in something tasteful but subtly expensiveâpearls, understated Louboutin heels, and a blazer that whispered wealth without screaming it.Â
Your mother taught you that.
Now, you sat in Poguelandia, doing god knows what.
The name alone sounded like some bad beach-themed party game. But you kept the snark to yourselfâmostly. Sarah swore to you this was her new "thing," her big redemption arc, and who were you to judge? It wasnât where you pictured spending any afternoon, yet there you were.
Pregnant. On The Cut. Drinkingâwell, holdingâa very flat ginger ale out of a plastic cup.
You smoothed your dress for the hundredth time, light linen in a neutral tone that looked effortless but cost more than most peopleâs rent, while pretending not to notice Pope and Cleo staring like you were a rare bird that had wandered into the wrong habitat.Â
Were they always this... intense? Did people on this side of the island not know how to look away when someone made eye contact? Your motherâs voice echoed in your head. Theyâre not staring at you, dear; theyâre staring at themselves in relation to you.Â
Whatever that meant.Â
To their credit, they werenât mean about it. Just... curious, as if youâd wandered in from a wildlife documentary called Kooks in the Wild.
You moved your weight around in your seat, hyper-aware of every grain of sand sticking to your hérmes sandals. Every time you shifted, you felt the grains grinding between the straps and your skin.
Shouldâve worn the espadrilles, you thought ruefully, but even then, this wasnât the worldâs most glamorous venue. Sarah had begged you to stop by, though, and you owed her. It was also good for you to leave the house instead of being cupped up inside all alone.
âOkay, seriously, whatâs with the staring? Do I have something on my face? Is my makeup smudged? Be honest.â
Cleo snorted. âNo, youâre fine, princess. Weâre just surprised to see you.â
You were still holding your sad little plastic cup. âJust thought Iâd participate inâwhatever this is.â You gestured vaguely at the mismatched chairs and string lights that looked like theyâd been stolen from someoneâs backyard wedding. âCommunity service?â
It was supposed to come off as witty. You werenât sure it did.
Pope choked on his drinkâsweet tea? soda?âand Cleo chuckled outright. âYouâre funny,â she said, and for a moment, you werenât sure if she meant it.
âThanks?â It came out like a question, and you wanted to die just a little bit inside.
Pope grinned, leaning forward with a chip in his hand. âYou donât seem like the kind of person who hangs out in The Cut, thatâs all.â
You blinked, feigning shock. âYou donât think I spend my weekends inâwhat is this, a glorified surf shack? Iâm crushed.â
Cleo laughed again, whichâfineâmade you feel a little better.
âNah, itâs just... youâre different up close. Not like, scary kook different. Just human. Yâknow?â
âGreat. Thatâs exactly what I was going for today.â
Pope gestured to the bar. âYou want a snack? Chips? Cookies? We have...three options.â
You straightened, eyes narrowing like a hawk zeroing in on prey.
Food. Your stomach growled loudly, as if it had been cued by a stage director. âWhat kind of cookies?â
He blinked, not expecting you to care. âUh... chocolate chip? Maybe oatmeal raisin?â
âAnd the chips?â You pressed, leaning forward now.
âSalt and vinegar,â Cleo piped up, eyeing you curiously. âBarbecue too, I think. Why?â
âOkay, shit, great.â You clapped your hands together decisively. âIâll have all of it. All the chips, both kinds of cookies. Do you have anything else? Pretzels? Popcorn? Random condiments? Iâm not picky.â
Cleo stared at you, her mouth slightly open. âEverything?â
âYes, everything. Is that a problem?â
She blinked, her eyes darting to Pope like he had an explanation. He shrugged helplessly.
âWomanâ she muttered under her breath. âDid you not eat for a week, or...?â
The salt and vinegar chips were divine, borderline transcendent, as you shoved another handful into your mouth. The truth was, you werenât just hungryâyou were still terrified. Every bite, every easy conversation with other people that werenât Sarah, was a game of jenga to you. One wrong move, one offhand comment, and your secret could be out in the open.
Six more days until this would all be... over. Until the secret growing inside youâthe one youâd barely admitted to yourself most morningsâwould be gone.
The past three days had been the best youâd felt in ages, cravings and all, thanks to Sarah. Sheâd slept over, stayed up late talking with you, making you laugh, distracting you from the endless pit what-ifs and why-mes.
It was the longest youâd gone without crying in three months. The longest youâd lived without feeling like you could suffocate at any given moment. With her help, it had been easier to forgetâto pretend that things were still okay.
But Sarah wasnât there, sheâd left earlier with John B, something about helping him with a tour.
âYou good, princess?â Cleoâs voice cut through your thoughts.
You blinked at her, realizing youâd been crushing the chip bag in your hands like a stress ball. âWhat? Yeah, Iâm fine.â
âYou look like youâre about to fight that bag of chips,â Pope said, grinning.
You forced a laugh, leaning back and tossing the bag onto the table. âNo fighting. Just... intense snacking."
You reached for the chocolate chip cookies he had offered earlier, focusing on the sweetness, the comfort of food that tasted good for once. Sweet, crumbly, safe. If only the rest of you life felt like that.
Pope and Cleo knew something was up, they all did, probably.
Sarah had been glued to your side, and it wasnât exactly subtle.
Her sudden move to âstay overâ at your place had obviously raised eyebrows, especially since you two hadnât had a proper conversation in months before all this. And there was the beach clean-up, Kie and JJ had been there when you felt ill, and while youâd been too disoriented to keep up with the cover story once Rafe drove you away, Sarah had stepped in later to handle it.
Heat exhaustion. Overworked. Totally fine.
Still, to your relief, neither Pope nor Cleo seemed inclined to pry, perhaps it was pity, or maybe they were just decent enough to let you keep the little shred of privacy you had left. Either way, you were grateful.
âSo,â Pope said, leaning back on his elbows and flashing you an easy grin, âHow are you finding our place? I mean, other than our fine selection of snacks.â
You swallowed a bite of cookie, forcing a smile. âItâs...charming. Rustic. A real je ne sais quoi vibe.â You waved your hand vaguely, trying to mimic the way your mother used to describe terrible restaurants weâd never go back to.
Cleo snorted. âYeah, thatâs one way to put it.â
âItâs cute,â You offered, looking around, âI can tell you guys put your heart into it.â
Pope smirked, lifting a brow. "That's nice of you to say."
You gave a small shrug, feigning nonchalance, but you meant it.
For all the mismatched chairs and questionable decoration, there was something undeniably warm about the place. You weren't used to thatâspaces filled with love instead of decorators and florists, it wasnât bad. Just different.
âI mean it,â you said, brushing crumbs from your lap. âItâs very authentic. âPogue Chicâ or something.â
Cleo laughed, loud and genuine, her grin lighting up her face. âPogue Chic?"
Pope chimed in, âHey, donât knock it. Weâre trendsetters. Ahead of its time.â
You smiled, but your mind was already falling back to the sand clinging to your dress and the ginger ale that tasted like disappointment. Youâd never say it out loud, but you admired them, that ability to make joy out of scraps. It was something you didnât quite know how to do. Not yet, anyway.
Cleo leaned forward, her elbows resting on the makeshift table. âSo, are we going to see you around more? Or is this just a one-time royal visit?â
You hesitated, twirling the rim of your cup between your fingers. âI donât know. Maybe. If Sarah keeps dragging me here, I guess I donât have a choice.â
âYou always have a choice.â
You didn't know if it was the way he said it, the tone he used, or just your hormones fucking you up, but suddenly there were tears in your eye sockets. You blinked rapidly, tilting your head back slightly and praying that the tears stayed put.
These kids, all of them, sitting here like they hadnât spent their lives scraping by, like they hadnât been hurt or abandoned or let down a hundred times over by people they loved and trusted. Yet somehow, they were still full of hope, full of life.
You envied that.
You wished you could bottle it, whatever it was that kept them laughing and fighting and welcoming someone like youâa result of privilege and mistakes and heartbreakâinto their home. It was humbling in a way that made your chest hurt.
âDoes that mean I can choose to order better snacks next time? Maybe some sparkling water? Flat ginger ale is a crime against humanity.â
Cleo snorted, still not fooled by your deflection, but she let it slide.
âGood luck with that, princess. Our snack budgetâs about three bucks and whatever we can steal from Kieâs pantry.â
Pope chuckled, tossing a chip in his mouth. âAnd youâre welcome to contribute if youâre so concerned about the menu.â
It surprised you, how easy it was to talk to them.
On paper, you had nothing in common. They were younger, grew up in a completely different world, and you were used to the polished conversations of country club luncheons and charity galas.Â
Here, things were different.
They didnât seem to care if you stumbled over your words, if your jokes were awkward or if you occasionally sounded like a walking trust fund catalog. They didnât care about your last name, your familyâs money, or any other things that had weighed you down for years.
That was disarming.
Youâd spent your entire life around people who mirrored your upbringingâkids who summered in the Hamptons or Barbados, adults who measured their worth in stock portfolios and vacation homes. Now, you were here, in this cobbled-together haven with salt-stained cushions, sitting with people whoâd grown up struggling for things you took for granted.
You thought it would feel more awkward or forced, but it didnât.
It was easy.
Pope sat on the counter, gesturing with a half-eaten chip. âSerious question. How do you even survive on Figure Eight? Do they hand you iced lattes and designer handbags when youâre born, or do you have to work your way up to that?â
You raised a brow, smirking. âOh, absolutely. The moment youâre born, they issue you a monogrammed diaper bag and a gold-plated pacifier. Itâs very exclusive.â
Cleo nearly choked on her drink. âSee, this is why we canât take you seriously.â
Your phone buzzed on the table, lighting up with your cousins name, interrupting the fun. You sighed, rolling your eyes before picking it up. âYes, Top?â
Topperâs slightly whiny tone spilled into your ear. âCan you believe Momâs threatening to rent out the beach house for the summer? Actual strangers, staying there. Whatâs next? Turning it into a hostel?â
âTragic,â you deadpanned, resting your chin in your hand. âTruly, a devastating blow for humanity.â
Pope fake-coughed, mumbling âwhite rich privilege problems,â while Cleo mouthed, âHostel!â and shook her head, laughing silently.
âI know. Anyway, Iâm coming over later.â
âWhereâs your invitation?â
You heard him scoffing, âIâm family, I donât need one.â
You pinched the bridge of your nose, feeling the beginnings of a headache. âTop, you canât just announce youâre coming over. I might have plans.â
âYeah, and Iâm your family, so those plans now include me,â Topper said, sounding entirely too pleased with himself. âBesides, Iâll bring food.â
Across from you, Pope was already gagging dramatically, holding his stomach as if the mere sound of Topperâs voice made him physically ill.Â
âI donât know ifââ
âSee you at noon,â he interrupted. âLater!â
The call ended before you could even argue, and you set your phone down with a resigned sigh.Â
âLooks like Iâm hosting a one-man Topper pity party,â you said, crossing your arms and slumping back in your chair.
Pope clutched his chest. âWill you survive?â
You only left once the sun dipped lower into the horizon, you gathered your things promising Sarah youâd drive safely and talk to her tomorrow.
Cleo, Pope and John B were mid-argument about the best way to fix something in the shack. You felt lighter than you had in weeks.
With a few more quips exchanged and goodbyes said, you walked back to your car. That night, the ache in your chest wasnât completly unbearable. You werenât okay, but you werenât drowning, either.
Youâd been terrified of this afternoon all day, worried youâd stick out like a sore thumb or say the wrong thing.
But the Pogues hadnât cared about your awkwardness, your polished self, or even the giant invisible cloud you carried everywhere these days. They let you just be.
The drive home was quiet, but this time you even hummed along to a song on the radio, which was strange because you couldnât remember the last time you cared about music or even turning on that thing. When you pulled into the driveway and stepped into your house, it didnât feel as cold and empty as it did last week.
You set your bag down on the entryway table and kick off your sandals, the floors cool beneath your feet. Heading to the kitchen, you decided to see if there was anything decent for tonightâs impromptu early dinner with Topper. The fridge greeted you with a sad bag of lettuce, half a bottle of sparkling water, and a single container of leftover pasta you werenât sure was still edible.
âGreat,â you muttered, closing the door and moving to the pantry.
The situation there wasnât much better. Sarahâs latest health-kick contributionsâa bag of chia seeds and some organic trail mixâlaughed at you from the top shelf. You frowned, pushing them aside to reveal a dusty box of crackers and a jar of Nutella.
âGuess weâre going shopping tomorrow,â you murmured, grabbing the crackers and Nutella to snack on now.
You placed them on the counter and glanced around. The sink held a few dishes from earlier âa couple of coffee mugs, a bowl, a plate.
You sighed, rolling up your sleeves, might as well get this out of the way.
Normally, youâd have had someone else to take care of thisâstocking the pantry, cleaning the dishes, even deciding on the menu for your lunches. But lately, youâd been scaling back. You hadnât let anyone go, of course. You could never do that; the staff had been with your family for years, and many of them felt more like extended family than employees. Still, youâd quietly rearranged their schedules, giving them more time off.
They didnât question itâprobably thought it was some new phase, another eccentricity of a bored, privileged young woman.
Truth was, you liked doing these things.
Focusing on something small, tangible, gave your brain a break from drilling itself into a million dark corners. Folding laundry, washing dishes, even the routine of chopping vegetablesâit kept your hands busy and your thoughts manageable enough. It wasnât that youâd suddenly become a domestic goddess or anything. Most of the time, youâd forget to pick up groceries or burn whatever you tried to cook.
It wasnât about being good at it. It was about doing something.
You looked around the kitchen, noting the little imperfections you wouldnât have noticed before. A small water stain on the counter from where your glass had sat too long, the scuff marks on the cabinets where your chair scraped when you leaned back. They werenât problems to be fixedâthey were just signs of life.
And right now at that very moment, life feltâŠokay.
The house didnât seem as cold or empty when you were doing things for yourself, even if it was mundane work. You finish up wiping down the counters, glance at the timeâdefinitely cutting it closeâand head toward the dining room to tidy up a bit.
Topper was not the type to notice if the place is spotless, but you always liked things to look... presentable, yourself included.
You heard the doorbell ring in the distance, he was early as usual, probably checking his watch just to make sure he wasn't a second late.
"Of course heâs early," you muttered to yourself, a little smirk pulling at your lips.
You walked towards the front door, ready to greet him, but when you opened it, your eyes immediately locked onto the large takeout bag in his hand. It smelled... amazing.
Topper grinned at you, an exaggerated flourish as he held up the bag.
âGuess what I brought?â
âYou brought... Korean chicken wings? Really?â
âHell yeah, I did!â He stepped inside, completely ignoring any formalities and heading straight toward the kitchen, âThey just opened.â
He placed the bag on the counter with the confidence of a man who knew heâs just won âBest Dinner Hostâ without even trying. You peeked inside, the crispy wings drenched in a glossy, sweet-spicy sauce that looked downright delicious.
Topper laughed and took a seat, pulling out the wings, not even bothering with plates. âYouâre welcome.â
You rolled your eyes but sat next to him, picking up a wing, the heat of it still making your fingers tingle. The crispy exterior cracked open with a satisfying crunch as you bit into it. It was everything you'd hoped forâtangy, spicy, perfectly cooked. You nearly moaned in pleasure, not even caring that your cousin was watching you with that cocky grin on his face.
âYou look like youâve seen the light,â He teased, leaning back in his chair as he grabbed a wing of his own.
âI mean,â you said, savoring another bite, âthis might make up for you barging in uninvited.â
âBarging?â He clutched his chest dramatically, mock offense radiating from every inch of him. âI'm saving you from a night of sad dinners, and this is the thanks I get?â
You gave him a pointed look, but the corner of your mouth tugged upward despite yourself.
âFine. Thank you, Topper. Youâre the hero of the day. Happy now?â
âEcstatic,â he said, grinning as he reached for another wing. âWhatâs new? Still slumming it with my ex and the Pogues?â
âFirst of all,â you said, wiping your fingers on a napkin, âslumming it implies Iâm suffering, which Iâm not. And second, Sarahâs not a pogue. Sheâs pogue-adjacent.â
âPogue-adjacent?â He snorted. âYouâve been spending too much time over there.â
âLike youâre one to talk,â you shot back. âYou basically live at Kildare Brewing these days. Thatâs like, one pogue away from full assimilation.â
He opened his mouth to argue but then stopped, realizing you had a point. âOkay, fair. But only because they have good beer."
You hesitated for a moment, unsure if you should even bring it up, but curiosity got the better of you. You hadnât heard about her in a while, and you knew by experience, that was never a good thing.
âSo... Ruthie,â you started, watching him over the rim of your glass as you took a sip.
Topper paused mid-chew, looking up at you like he wasnât sure he wanted to have this conversation. âWhat about her?â
âI mean, you two are still together, arenât you?â
He wiped his hands on a napkin. âWeâre⊠not talking right now.â
You tried not to look pleased, but a rush of vindication bloomed in your chest. You'd grown to hate her, plain and simple. Her recent proximity to your cousin had always baffled you. He wasnât perfect, but surely, he could do better.Â
âIâm surprised.â
âYeah, well,â he muttered, reaching for another wing. But then he stopped, like whatever he was thinking was messing with his head.
âWhat happened?â You asked, trying to sound more curious, concerned, than nosy.
You werenât sure if heâd tell you, but the look on his face made it clear something big had gone down.
He hesitated, debating whether to answer. Finally, he sighed. âShe... started a rumor about you.â
Your head jerked back in surprise. âAbout me?â
âYeah,â he grimaced like heâd swallowed something sour. âShe said you passed out at the beach cleanup and decided to spread some bullshit about you doing drugs.â
You just stared at him. âShe what?â
You werenât sure why you were so surprised.
You knew what she was capable better than anyone, especially when she was bored out of her mind.
âI didnât believe it,â he added quickly, his tone defensive, as if that made it better. âI told her to shut the fuck up about it, but you know how she is. She thought it was funny.â
âFunny?â Your voice was sharp now, âShe thought it was funny to spread lies about me? About drugs? What the fuck?â
âYeah, itâs so messed up. Thatâs why Iâm not talking to her. I told her if she couldnât act like a fucking decent human being, we were done.â
You blinked, stunned.
You werenât sure what shocked you moreâthe fact that Ruthie had stooped so low or that Topper had finally stood up to her. You shook your head, biting back another nasty comment about how awful she was. Youâd been saying it for months, and he hadnât listened.
No point in beating a dead horse now.
âItâs about time you saw what sheâs really like. Sheâs really bad fuckinâ news, Top. Always has been.â
He gave a low grunt, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the counter. âYeah. Took me long enough, huh?â
You didnât answer, just raised an eyebrow and sipped your water.
âSheâs always been weird about Sarah,â Topper muttered, almost to himself. âEven when we were together, sheâd find these ways to dig at her. Like that one time at Midsummersââ
ââWhen she âaccidentallyâ spilled her drink on Sarahâs dress,â you finished, rolling your eyes. âYeah, I remember. Sheâs always had this thing about trying to one-up her. Honestly, itâs so pathetic. But you never listen to me, so.â
âOkay, ouch.â He threw a crumpled napkin at you, which you easily dodged. âI listen to you sometimes.â
âDo you, though?â You gave him a pointed look.
âYeah, I do!â Topper protested, though the whine in his voice made him sound more like the teenager he used to be, back when heâd follow you around during family holidays like a puppy. âJust⊠selectively.â
âSelective listening isnât listening, dumbass. Youâre just proving my point.â
He narrowed his eyes at you but didnât answer, reaching for another wing instead. He took a bite, chewing dramatically, as if the exaggerated crunch would somehow end the conversation.
âLook, Iâve been saying for months that Ruthieâs bad news. Since she showed up at last yearâs Christmas party wearing a dress identical to Sarahâs, just in a different color. You thought that was a coincidence?â
Topper groaned, dropping the wing. âOkay, fine, youâre right. Are you happy now? Can you stop rubbing it in?â
You grinned, propping your chin on your hand.
âOh, IÂ could. But what kind of older cousin would I be if I didnât remind you how often youâre wrong?â
âYouâre not that much older than me.â
You shrugged. âOld enough to know better than to date someone that awful.â
âYeah, yeah, youâre a genius. I get it.â He looked over at you again, his gaze softer, this time, âBut seriously, youâve been off lately. If thereâs something going on, you can tell me, yâknow? Weâre family, even if I donât listen to you half the time,â he added with a small smile, though his eyes were searching, hoping youâd let him in.
It would be so easy to tell him the truthâthat you were pregnant, scheduled for an abortion in six days, and drowning in uncertainty and dread.
But he was still Rafeâs best friend, and the risk of this ever reaching him was too high. Instead, you forced a lightness into your voice.
âNothing I canât handle. And right now, I desperately need the bathroom.â
He looked at you skeptically, not fooled for a second.
âYouâre really okay?â he pressed, his voice dropping to a level that told you he wasnât going to let this go easily, "I texted and called before, you didn't answer. Thought you were resting from the scare."
Youâd been having such a calm, easy time with Sarah, you almost forgot about everything else. The thought of picking up the phone, letting all that anxiety and worry back in, just wasnât appealingâso youâd ignored his calls, but not on purpose. You were doing him a favor.
You plastered on a smile and gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder as you passed. âI promise, Iâm fine. Just felt a little light-headed and needed some peace."
His eyes narrowed slightly, unconvinced. âThatâs all?â
You forced a giggle, hoping it would sound more genuine than it felt. âYes, Dr. Thornton. Just needed to eat more or drink water or whatever the fuck it is youâre always telling me to do.â
âUh-huh,â he said, crossing his arms, watching you closely. âBecause youâve never just fainted before.â
âI guess thereâs a first time for everything. Besides, donât you think Iâd tell you if something serious was wrong?â
It took everything to maintain eye contact, your stomach twisting at the lie. He was family, and you wanted to trust him, to let him help you. But you couldnât. He hadnât even told you about Rafe and Sofia until you found out by yourself.Â
Topper tilted his head, considering you, then sighed and gave a reluctant nod. âAlright, fine.â
âOkay, if youâre done being weird,â You pushed back from the counter, grabbing your glass. âI gotta pee,â you announced casually, as if this was the most normal interjection in the world. The wings were good, but running away was tempting. And also, the pregnancy had made your bladder a ticking time bomb, and you really didnât want to risk any accidents. âIâll be back in a minute.â
You offered him one last smile, hoping it was convincing enough. He whined some sarcastic comment about your water consumption as you hurried away, but you barely heard him.
All you thought about was the blessed relief that awaited on the other side of that door.
You didnât usually spend this much time with Top nowadaysâyour own tendency to avoid âcloseâ family dramaâbut tonight had been oddly⊠nice.
Even if you wanted to wrap your hands around his neck half the time. Even if you hated lying to him. If heâd just pushed a little harder, maybe you wouldâve folded, let it all spill right there in the kitchen.
Every time you thought youâd come to a decision, another doubt would take over you, leaving you back at square one. You knew what you wanted, so why was this so hard?Â
Topper had looked at you with such genuine concern back there. The âif you need me, Iâm hereâ sentiment was the same one youâd grown up with, the kind of care only a cousin, practically a sibling, could have.
This was hard.
When you came back into the kitchen after taking your sweet time in the bathroom you immediately noticed something was off.
Topper was by the counter, staring at the half-eaten pile of wings by the table like theyâd personally offended him. He looked paler, tooâalmost like heâd seen a ghost.
âUhâŠâ You stopped mid-step, furrowing your brow. âWhatâs with the stupid face? Did the wings betray you or something?â
He jolted slightly, as if he hadnât even heard you come in. âWhat? No. No, the wings are fine. Great. Amazing, even.â
âOkayâŠâ You gave him a skeptical look, setting your glass down and crossing your arms.Â
Topper laughed, but it was this oddly nervous, stilted sound. He glanced at his phone, tapping the screen for no real reason, then shoved it into his pocket.
âYou know what, though? I totally forgotâI have something planned. Like, super important. In about⊠ten minutes.â
You stared at him, unimpressed. âYou forgot you had plans? Sounds fake, but okay.â
âSo unlike me!â He got up from his chair with such sudden energy that it made you take a step back. âAnyway, I should really get going. Donât want to be late. Uh, thanks for⊠hanging out. And for, uh, letting me use your wings as a form of therapy. Yeah. Later!â
And with that, he was sprinting for the door.
âTopper!â you called after him, confused and mildly annoyed. âWhat the hell is going on? Youâre acting fuckinâ weird!â
âNope, not weird! Just busy!â he shot back over his shoulder, not even looking at you as he opened the door.
You didnât have time to yell at him before he disappeared out the door, the sound of his Jeep starting up echoing from the driveway a moment later. You stood there bewildered, staring at the now-empty doorway.
Something was definitely up. He was many thingsâdramatic, stubborn, occasionally insufferableâbut shifty wasnât usually one of them.
You went back to the kitchen, glancing at the counter, ready to brush off his weird exit as just another of his dramatics, when your eyes landed on a random envelopeâ the one youâd been using to scribble down everything lately.Â
Extra small grocery lists, reminders, and, unfortunately, the number for the abortion clinic.
Rafeâs fingers curled loosely around the tumbler of bourbon, eyes set on nothing in particular. The lunch rush was winding down, country club regulars filing out.
Heâd been there for over an hourâfirst, the meeting, listening to those finance guys ramble on about numbers, projections, all that bullshit he usually liked to hear.Â
Heâd faked his interest well enough, but his mind had been miles away. Mostly thinking about you. And the company, of course, because that was his priority right now. Or, it should be.
The whole thing with you, three days ago, it was a slow-mind-burning headache he couldnât ignore, even if he wanted to. And he had wanted to, tried to, in fact.
He took another slow sip, hardly tasting the bourbon. Across the room, Sofia was working between tables, balancing trays and forcing her best country club smile.
All he saw when he looked at her was you, it only made him force down another swallow, running his thumb over the rim of the glass, mind somewhere between the company projections and the mess heâd made of things with you.Â
It was ridiculous that you were still in his head. He should be thinking about that deal, about locking down his place in the Cameron empire.Â
Rafe pushed the glass aside, signaling for the check when something caught his earâa conversation from a nearby table.
âYeah, she actually passed out the other day. Pathetic.â The voice was loud, sneering.
A dudeâs voice followed, fake sympathy dripping from his tone. âI heard she was a fuckinâ mess after the whole breakup.â
âOh, totally.â A different girl laughed, high-pitched and cruel. âSheâs probably on something. Can you blame her? Iâd be desperate too if he dumped me.â
It didnât take a fucking genius to know who they were talking about. Small town and all, of course, things got around, mostly turning into half-truths and petty rumors.
He stopped all his movements, jaw clenching. His fingers tightened around the edge of the table, the only thing keeping him from breaking something, preferably bones.
They were talking about you.Â
About some made-up version of you, the fact that these spoiled, airheaded brats thought they could shit talk about you like that, rip you apart for fun just because you werenât there to defend yourself made him sick.
He pushed his chair back and stood, crossing the room with long strides. He didnât care about the eyes following him as he walked up to their table, the laughter stopping the moment they looked up and saw the look on his face.
âWhat did you just say?â
The girl whoâd been laughing, a petite brunette with too much makeup and a self-satisfied smirk, blinked up at him, her smile faltering.
âOh, Rafe! We didnât see you there. We were justâŠjoking around,â she stammered, trying to backpedal.
âJoking?â He laughed, the sound making them flinch. âThat what you call it? Spreading some bullshit rumor because itâs all your pathetic little lives have to offer?â
The brunetteâs face went red. âI mean, we all heard about it. Iâm just saying what everyoneâs already thinkingââ
His fists clenched and his patience, already thin, snapped the second he heard the guyâone of those trust fund preps with an overdone tan and a too-tight poloâchime in.
âOh, come on, dude,â the guy smirked, leaning back in his chair, feigning nonchalance. âItâs not like sheâs worth all that trouble, is she?â
His entire body went rigid, and before he registered it, he was leaning down, letting them feel the weight of his glare.
âSay that shit again,â Rafe taunted him, something almost amused twisting at the edge of his mouth, daring him to keep talking. âIâd love to hear you repeat yourself.â
âRelax, manââ
He didnât even let him finish, eyes narrowed, his voice dropping to a near whisper, more dangerous than shouting ever could be.
âYou think itâs funny? Talking about someone whoâs not even here to defend herself?â
The guyâs face paled, and Rafe swore he was seconds away from landing a punch, from wiping that smug grin off his face. Just as he prepared his fist, ready to make good on his threat, he felt a hand on his arm, a small, insistent tug.Â
âRafe,â a soft voice hissed. Sofia. He barely glanced at her, shrugging off her grip.
âDonât,â he snapped, his voice sharp, dismissive.
He kept his eyes on the guy, who looked more uncomfortable by the second, squirming in his seat.
Sofiaâs hand still hovering near his arm, cautious now. âRafe, come on, this isnât worth it. Youâre better than this.â
She looked scared. Scared of him, scared of the situation. He wasnât better than this.
Heâd never been, and heâd been good enough at lying and pretending for her even to think that.
You wouldâve known better.
Fuck, you wouldnât have wasted time talking.
You wouldâve yanked him back by his collar, shoved yourself between him and the guy, shot him that warning glare, daring him to keep pushing you so youâd have to drag him out by force. You always knew when heâd get like this, that edge in his voice, that look in his eye that told you he was seconds away from snapping. You knew better than anyone how to pull him back when he hit that switch.
But youâd never bothered with gentle.
Sofiaâs eyes darted around the room, clearly embarrassed, maybe even afraid of drawing attention. He knew this wasnât fair to her, that she hadnât signed up for this part of himâthe anger, the unpredictability. It wasnât in his nature to stay silent, to ignore things and walk away.Â
He could almost see itâfeel it, like a familiar bruise under his skin. Youâd shove him hard enough that heâd stumble back, half-pissed and half-shocked. Youâd get in his face, not even close to scared, cutting through his spiral. âWhat the hell is wrong with you, Rafe? You wanna end up in jail over some loser? Grow up.â
If youâd been here, you wouldnât have given him a choice. Youâd have grabbed his arm and dragged him away, kept a grip on him until heâd snapped out of whatever dark place heâd dropped into. Youâd push him until he finally let go, forced him to come down from that blinding fury and face the mess heâd just caused. It was the only way heâd ever been able to listenâwhen you pushed him to wake up, forced him to look at himself and see just how reckless, just how stupid he was about to be.
But Sofia? She had no idea.Â
She thought saying âyouâre better than thisâ was going to do anything, that with a light touch and some empty words, heâd suddenly be calm, reasonable, soft.Â
But heâd never been that way, never with you, never with anyone.
She hadnât done anything wrong; sheâd just seen the version of him heâd wanted her to see. The version heâd put together, patched up and polished, all so he could convince himself he was something he wasnât.
With her, it was easy to pretend. He could smooth his sharp edges, show her just enough of himself to keep her interested without letting her close enough to see the mess underneath.
Heâd let her believe he was the kind of guy who could just calm down, let things slide. The kind of guy whoâd listen. Heâd wanted her to believe he was controlled, calm. Sofiaâs softness had appealed to him, but now, it only highlighted the differences between them.
With you, heâd never had the luxury of pretending.
Youâd seen through him from the start, never let him get away with putting on some act.
You hadnât let him pretend to be better than he was, hadnât let him off easy when heâd tried to brush things off or shut down. You knew every side of him, even the ones heâd rather ignore. Youâd always known exactly who he was, who he wasnât, and youâd never been afraid to remind him.
He didnât want to let it go, didnât want to give the guy an inch of leeway to think heâd won this. Rafe sighed and released his grip, his hand falling from the table as he finally stepped back. Sofia relaxed, giving him a relieved smile, but it only made him feel emptier.Â
âYou talk about her again and Iâll fucking kill you, you hear me?âÂ
The guy sputtered, looking down, embarrassed and shaken. He muttered something under his breath that sounded like an apology, but Rafe didnât care enough to hear it.
Sofiaâs hand was still on his tail when he left, and as soon as he walked out of earshot of the table, she followed him, crossing her arms. Her eyes narrowed with an expression heâd never seen from her âdisbelief.Â
âWhat was that?â
Everything.
Rafe didnât speak. He was staring past her, back at the group, mind far from the confrontation and miles away with thoughts of you. She seemed to notice, her lips pressing together.
âI canât believe you did that. You threatened to kill him, Rafe. Over what, a stupid rumor?â
A stupid rumor? She was making him feel like he was out of control, irrationalâeven though he couldnât explain why this mattered so much.
âYou wouldnât get it. Itâs not your problem.â
She flinched a little, her face falling, but to her credit, she didnât look away. âYouâre right. I donât get it. Tell me.â
He wanted to believe that it could work with Sofia.
Nice girl, pretty too. She laughed at his jokes, and she didnât call him out on his bullshit, because she didnât even know that side of him existed. On paper, she was perfect. But she wasn't you.
He looked back at her, her worried eyes scanning his face.
It was frustratingâseeing the fear, feeling her judgment when she didnât even know what she was judging.
To her, this was just some meaningless outburst, something he could turn on and off at will. This wasnât her fault. He knew that. He hated how this wasnât something he couldn't put into words, not in any way that would make sense to her.
âForget it, alright?â his tone was harsher than he meant.
Sofia shook her head, clearly not willing to let it drop this time.
âWhy would you get so worked up over something like this?"
To her, thatâs all this wasâjust noise, harmless, inconsequential.Â
She looked up at him expectantly, her brows furrowed in confusion, waiting for some reasonable answer.
And it pissed him off, how she kept waiting, expecting him to offer some calm, measured response when he didnât even understand it himself.
Sofiaâs eyes softened, but it only irritated him further.
âSheâs nice,â Her words drifted out casually like she didnât know sheâd just cracked him open. âShe defended me, last week, when I was serving brunch.â
He couldnât stop the self-loathing.
You had always been that wayâready to defend anyone, even when you were the one hurting. Rafe winced, hating himself for it, hating that you could still be so good even after everything. He swallowed hard, keeping his expression blank.
âDid she?â he muttered, trying to sound indifferent.
âYeah,â Sofia replied, watching his reaction with mild curiosity. âGuess I wouldnât have expected that.â
Rafeâs jaw clenched, that familiar hurt in his chest.
His mind was already conjuring all the times youâd jumped in, backed people up, and called out anyone who crossed a line. Even when it came to people you barely knew.
It made him feel like the worst person in the world, knowing that youâd been there for Sofia of all people, that youâd shown her that same loyalty. It made him hate himself even more.
His phone buzzed, saving him from the inevitable conversation, his hand brushed the side of his face as he glanced down at the unknown number flashing across the screen. He didnât hesitate, before swiping the answer button.
âHello?â
âMr. Cameron, this is Dr. Harris from the hospital,â the voice on the other end said. âWeâve been trying to reach Miss Thornton about the blood work results from her visit three days ago. Unfortunately, thereâs been an issue with our system and a few patientâs data has been deleted, except for the emergency contact information.â
Rafeâs stomach dropped.
He was still your emergency contact, not by choice probably. The hospital was calling about your blood work.
Was something wrong?
His blood ran cold. âIs she okay? Did something happen?â The urgency in his tone made Sofiaâs eyes widen again, her confusion growing.
âWeâre concerned about a possible infection. We need to run more tests to rule it out, but the symptoms suggest it could be more complicated. We must check thoroughly to be sure.â
âAn infection?â
âYes, but it could be nothing serious. We just need her to come in as soon as possible for a follow-up,â Dr. Harris explained.
There was a pause as if he expected Rafe to say something reassuring or offer to pass on the message.Â
Sofiaâs brows knitted together as she watched him. âRafe?âÂ
âIâll tell her,â he said, the words cracked in his throat. The doctor thanked him and hung up.
He stared at the phone waiting for it to ring again with more news, a reassurance that this wasnât as serious as it sounded.Â
You probably hadnât changed your emergency contact because it slipped your mind.
He couldnât stand the idea that something could be wrong, and he was not the one you called when you needed someone. All heâd ever done was mess things up between you.
âWhatâs going on?â
How the fuck was he going to tell you when you'd blocked him everywhere?
He couldnât call, couldnât text, couldnât even show up unannounced without risking the usual argument that would end with you screaming at him to get out, or worse, you looking at him with that unforgiving stare.
He knew youâd locked every door, bolted every window to keep him out, and he deserved it.Â
âItâs nothing,â he said, the lie slipping out automatically. He could feel her studying him, waiting for another explanation he also didnât have the patience to give.
Maybe Topper could help.
The irony wasnât lost on himâheâd given your cousin the mission of checking in on you, playing the careful messenger while Rafe kept his distance. That was supposed to be him.
But the reality was you hated him now, hated him enough that Topper was a safer option and yet, the private information still landed on his lap. As if he still had the right to be in your orbit, let alone the person trusted with this kind of news.
It felt wrong.
He knew you were going to hate him even more for still having access to your private details. It wasnât really his faultâthe hospital called him. He should have hung up the moment the hospital mentioned your name, told them they had the wrong guy. But he didnât. He listened.Â
âIf you need to goââ she started, trailing off when he didnât answer. Her voice softened, tentative. âItâs about her, isnât it?â
Rafeâs jaw ticked, and he looked away, out at the horizon where the sun was setting.  âYeah,â he muttered, not bothering to lie this time.
His thumbs hovered over the keyboard. He typed something out, then deleted it, then typed again.
Finally, he just went with the simplest thing he could think of and hit send.
Can we meet up? Tannyhill in 30. I think I know whatâs wrong.
He half-expected some lame excuse or joke from Topper. Instead, the text he got made the deep lines across his forehead make an appearance.
Shit, you do???
Did the fucker already know?
Did he suspect? Or was this just the kind of baited question someone asked when they thought they were the last to know something big?
He frowned, gripping the phone tighter.
If Topper did know, why hadnât he said anything?
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fixer upper
A/N: IM ACTUALLY SO EMBARASSED TO ADMIT THIS IS BASED ON âFIXER UPPERâ FROM FROZEN đđđ does that mean it counts as a song ficâŠâŠ.. (gif creds: @buckysbarnes)
Pairing: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader (Season 3)
Summary: The kids arenât saying you can change him, per se. Theyâre only saying that loveâs a force thatâs powerful and strange. 2.8k words
Warnings: fluff, babygirl steve, cursing, mentions of toxic (?) relationship, hopeless pining, pet names (sweetheart), shameless flirting
Steve can barely see through his rose-tinted daydream, but he's sure he recognizes your smile as soon as you enter the food court. And you lead a trail of whiny teenagers right to his register. This is the fourth time this week you've heard about Steve's lusturous hair and dazzling eyes. You have to hand it to them, they're not bad salesmen, just a tad young to elicit ethos. What the hell do they know about love anyway.
That's what happens when you're licensed and free on a Friday afternoon: babysitting duty. Now, in the event that Steve had been the one saddled with the party on his day off, he would've argued that they're not really babies and they should be self-sufficient. Knowing Dustin, however, this argument proves to be false almost every time.
But it wasn't Steve, it was you. Steve doesn't think he's heard you complain about one thing in your life.
Not even your deadbeat boyfriend called Brad. Who, as Dustin and Max and Robin love to remind him, is utterly replaceable and on thin ice every other week. Steve knows better than to get his hopes up after three months of having them crushed, though. He's learned to live with the strong sense of yearning he feels whenever you're within thirty feet of him.
Take now, for example: you're coralling half a dozen brats into a somewhat single-file line without even having to raise your voice. He should think it's impressive, but he's too distracted by your lip gloss and your voice and the way you did your hair today.
"I hope you give discounts to distressed young women," you tease, brows knitting when you look up at him. This is the part where he's supposed to respond with something charming. Sexy and charismatic, maybe.
"Oh, uh," he chuckles, "No, I mean, yeah. Sure"âOh, but you smile at him and all that pent up charisma flies out the neon-framed sliding doors. They chatter out their orders at lightning speed, and he can barely catch half of what they're saying when you look at him like that. You finally make it to the register and pay half price. And your cone is always on the house, of course.
"Isn't he such a gentleman?" Max says unenthusiastically. Lucas elbows her side before retreating with Dustin.
"He's also a great driver!" Will chirps, shuffling away to one of the booths with Mike and El who giggle the whole way there. You turn back to Steve who stares off at them incredulously.
"You see what I have to deal with?" you say with some degree of affection for the chaos.
"Aw, come on," Steve says, tilting his head with a shrug, "you love it."
"I think they keep forgetting I already have a boyfriend."
Not much of a boyfriend if you ask me, he thinks.
But what he says: "Ah, yes. The elusive Brad."
You roll your eyes and grin at him. You know Steve has a crush on you. Or else the kids and Robin wouldn't be so adamant on marketing him to you. It's sweet, really. And honestly, you don't think Steve's unfit to play boyfriend or anything, but you're also not disloyal.
Your scoop melts down the side of the cone between your fingers. Steve nearly hurls himself across the counter handing you a thick stack of napkins.
"Shit, thanks," you huff, lapping at the stream of sticky ice cream. His stomach churns as his face screws into a sickly smile.
"Yeah. No problem."
"No, really"âyou wrap a napkin around the cone, shoving the rest into your pocketâ"I don't know what I'd do if I had to pay the entire bill everytime one of them had a craving."
"Really, it's not a problem," he shrugs it off like it doesn't come out of his paycheck. "I like helping out pretty girls when I can."
You giggle and tilt your head. "Steve Harrington, you're my hero."
He's almost embarassed at how fast his face flushes red hot and frantic. He reaches for the back of his neck on impulse, and any attempt he makes at seeming suave is foiled by Robin patting him on the shoulder.
"If you think that's heroic, there was this one time he singlehandedly saved Hawkins with this sick baseball bat with nailsâ"
He huffs, "Robinâ"
"No, seriously! Don't be so modest, Steve, you're selling yourself short!"
"I'm not trying to sell myself at all!" he says, turning her around and guiding her towards the door to the back room.
"Great seeing you!" she hollers over her shoulder just before disappearing behind the swinging door. You wave with a chuckle. Steve tuts, fixing his sailor hat and shaking his head.
"Did you really do all that? Save Hawkins, I mean?" you ask. And you seem genuinely interested which is why it guts him. The one girl who actually gives a shit is coincidentally unavailable.
"Yeah," he says, shrugging, "but only to clear my conscience. It's like penance, or whatever."
You giggle, not sure if he's being truthful or playing it off. He meets your eyes and he's sure his heart stops dead in his chest for a beat. Nobody pulls off mall lighting like you.
The kids come skipping back to the counter, declaring they've all got different wants and needs around the mall for the next few hours.
"Okay, hold on, I promised I'd have you guys back before my date," you say, Steve overseeing the conversation from over your shoulder.
"Well," he interjects, "when's your date?" All the attention shifts to Steve, and he suddenly wishes he could swallow up the words and take them back for good.
"Two hours from now. Across town," you say, looking a little guilty knowing he's about to make the kindest offer of the year.
"I'm off at five, so I can just"âstop talkingâ"take them home after my shift."
"Steve, really, you don't have toâ"
El grins, eyes wide as she whispers in Max's ear.
Steve shakes his head, "Sweetheart, believe me, I want to. Besides, you've already been through enough with the rascals. Go have fun."
You turn to the kids, almost pleading with them to accept Steve's generosity.
"Is that okay with you guys? I don't wanna leave you stranded," you admit.
They nod in agreement, throwing out a couple yes's and sure's. They're bright-eyed and bushy-tailed as ever, but you still feel bad dumping them on Steve like this.
Dustin interrupts: "This really just goes to show how Steve is a great candidate for marriage and other domestic relations. He can be odd at times and he might care too much about his hair, but you can tell by his actions that he would be a very reliable husband, a generous life partner, andâ"
"And a great friend," you giggle, trying not to let Dustin get too carried away. You have sat through enough of his speeches for one day. "Now, quit trying to set us up!"
Steve rolls his eyes at the boy. "Seriously, at least wait 'til she's single. Then she can reject me for me."
You whip back to face him with a sour look on your face.
"Steven! That's notâthat's rude to yourself," you huff, "Say three nice things."
He chuckles, crossing his arms over his chest and squinting at you.
"You're pretty, I like your shoes, and you smell nice."
"About you!"
"Ohh," he feigns surprise, "No." But you reach across the counter to whack him on the arm with a shocking amount of force. The kids chuckle from behind you. Steve can't help but smile when you raise your brows proudly. "Fine! I am deserving of love, I am great company, and my hair looks particularly shiny today."
"Good," you nod, "I agree. And I have to go, see ya!"
"With which one?" he says, watching you jog out of the store waving. "Wait! Sweetheart? Agree with which one??"
Steve sighs sharply, hands perched decidedly on his hips as his gaze falls flat on the militia of pre teens staring him down.
"What do you want?" he says.
"You're hopeless," Max says, mouth pressed in a hard line before she wanders off, arm-in-arm with El.
"Yeah, dude. And kinda desperate," Mike shrugs.
"Hey," he grumbles. Who knew such harsh words could come from such little humans. You'd think they'd be harmless at this age. You'd be wrong.Â
"You're a total virgin," Dustin says, very matter-of-factly.
Steve cocks a brow, honestly trying not to laugh at the severity of Dustin's demeanor when he says it. "I don't even think you know what that means."
Dustin blinks. "Well, I think you haven't had sex in long enough that you qualify as one."
"Shit."
...
Much to Steveâs surprise, it only takes butthead Brad two more weeks to absolutely shatter your heart. No one knows the complete details other than it happened at a frat party and you had to walk back to the dorms alone. But Steve doesnât need complete details to know he wants to shatter Bradâs jaw with his fist.
But he also vowed to use means other than violence to get his point across. He should be awarded for the amount of restraint it took to see your bloodshot eyes and not speed immediately off towards Asshole University like a Brad-seeking atomic missile.
Of course, heâs thankful you felt comfortable enough to call him. In fact, he was the first one you rang. And he knows this fact because you told him while you were sniffling away tears a week and a half after the break up.
Now, youâre sitting in the passenger seat of his beemer, curled into your sweater, and listening to late night soft rock radio while he focuses on the dark highway ahead of him. You hadnât wanted to do anything else but sit in his car and think. His heart clenches everytime you wipe away a tear with your soggy sleeve.
He pulls off the highway during an ad break, finding a secluded diner surrounded by nothing but trees and gas stations. He pulls into a parking spot near the back of the lot where the overhead lights arenât blinding, but you arenât completely in the dark. He leaves the car on so the cold doesnât seep in, engine still purring softly from under the hood.
âWho needs âem,â he says in attempt to lighten the mood. âBeing single is way cooler. Take it from me. You get a bed all to yourself and you can fart whenever you want.â
Youâre frowning, but you know he means well. You just canât help the fat tears rolling down your cheeks.
âOh, come here,â he whispers, leaning over the center console and dipping his hands over your shoulder and around your waist. His arms feel so strong and so warm where they envelop you entirely. Steve always was the best hug you ever receieved.
You canât help but chuckle wetly into his collar after a moment.
âGod, he was such an asshole, wasnât he?â
âUh, duh! Doesnât take a genius toâŠâ Steve laughs, pausing and brushing the hair away from your damp cheeks. âI know, sweetheart, and you deserve heaps better. You were always way too cool for that loser.â
You blink up at him in the low light. Thereâs a kind of twinkle in your eye that makes the tips of his ears hot. This time, you reach for him, weaving your arms beneath his jacket with a deep sigh. Your breathing slows against his neck, and he rubs your back while your arms tighten a little around his waist.
He canât help but wonder what youâre thinking whenever you look at him with your doe eyes, seemingly sweet and far too inquisitive. He knows youâre probably just looking, maybe thinking of something else. But the hopeless romantic in him rattles his rib cage and shouts you might actually consider him this time.
âWanna go get shakes? On me,â he whispers. You sniffle, wiping your aching nose on the cuff of your sleeve.
âI can pay for myself,â you tease, popping open the car door when he cuts the engine.
âNope! Sorry, I donât let girls pay, remember? Super sexist, I know. Plus the whole pretty privilege thing. Honestly, I should just be paying you at this point,â he says, hooking his arm around your back and feeling yours reach for his shoulder as you march towards the diner.
âI agree, rich boy,â you chuckle, âReparations are in order for wrongdoings on behalf of your sex.â
He chuckles. Heâs absolutely head over heels.
The waitress seats you at a cozy booth in the corner and makes a casual comment about the cute couple, asking how long you two have been together. Steve flounders at the question, flustered and pink in the face.
âOh, weâre actually⊠not together,â you say, laughing awkwardly when she pouts and, again, remarks on how cute youâd be together. You order shakes for the both of you before perching your chin in your hand. Steveâs still reeling when the waitress walks away.
âFunny. We canât even escape the third-degree from complete strangers,â you tease, winking at him from just a few feet away. Jesus, heâd think you were trying to kill him if you didnât seem so lighthearted and playful.
âYeah, pretty funny,â he sighs. And heâs probably being so obvious. Or maybe thatâs how he is all of the time, so his heart eyes seem subtle. Or itâs obvious all of the time.
The waitress slides the shakes in front of you, and the bright red cherries sink further into the whipped cream.
âYou know,â you murmur between sips, âI always thought you were pretty cute.â
He nearly chokes on his mouthful of chocolate malt, clearing his throat and trying not to crumble in on himself.
âOh. Yeah, I get that a lot,â he huffs, âMostly from little old ladies, butâHey!â
You flick him and say, âReally! I know itâs not couth considering⊠Brad and all, butâŠâ
âYouâre being facetious,â Steve accuses.
âNoââ
âSarcastic!â
âSteveââ
âIronic?â
âTry serious!â you hum, âIâm just saying, youâre very handsome. I was shocked to learn you were single when we first met.â
Steveâs blushing and puffing trying to maintain eye contact.
âWhat can I say? Iâm just,â he huffs, âIâm not really worried about it.â
You tilt your head. âYouâre not?â
âNah. I know the right girl will find me in the end. Even if it takes a while. I donât mind waiting for the right one.â
You settle back in the padded seat, wincing when it squeals beneath you. It makes you feel a little dejected, but you suppose heâs right. Especially because he seems so confident. So sure. Itâs admirable. You want to be that sure of soulmates and love and the future.
âI feel the same way,â you whisper. He finishes off the rest of his glass with a smile.
âThough, it doesnât exactly help having a bunch of little shitheads telling you to go get laid all the time,â he laughs.
âOh, yeah, tell me about itâ you lean in, âJust break up with him, steve is so much nicer. Dump that loser. Steve has a big crush on you.â
âThey said that?â Steveâs not dumb, heâs sure you know by now, but he thought it was all conjecture. They will be hearing about this next time they want free ice cream.
âYeah, that was like their main point. But I know with all the love in my heart theyâre all full of shit.â
You shrug, and he chuckles dryly. He canât decide whether you knowing is for better or for worse.
âYeah,â he sighs.
Steve drives you home. You fall asleep in the car, and he keeps the radio low so as not to wake you. By the time he pulls into your driveway, he doesnât care about the time or the fact that he lives far. He does, however, care about the way you smile lazily and peck his cheek in thanks.
âAnytime, sweetheart.â
He says it but he wants to tell you what heâs feeling. He wants to ask if youâre over Brad. He knows youâre not and thatâs okay, but he wants to ask if he can hold your hand to keep it warm. He wants to ask what kind of flowers you like and if it would be okay for him to drop them off on your doorstep tomorrow. He has so much he wants to say and do, but he doesnât want to suffocate you.
He doesnât know that you wouldnât mind him asking.
more like this
masterlist
#the babygirlification of steve harrington#steve harrington x fem!reader#steve harrington#steve harrington fic#steve harrington x you#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington fanfic#stranger things#x reader#fluff#stranger things x reader#x fem!reader#friends to lovers#stranger things season three#scoops ahoy
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ideal weekend, lando norris
summary: while fans stress about the fact that, following their breakup, the actress won't be there to witness the driver's first ever f1 win, y/n gets asked about her ideal weekend off in an interview and accidentally manifests it [actress!reader]
warnings: i think only very bad editing (i tried) and me bringing up yet another footballer i feel affection for for literally no reason
fc: madelyn cline
started this as something completely different from what it ended up being but i think i like it. i'd love it if you let me know what you think tho (((:
y/n.y/l
đmiami
Liked by rudeth and 1.059.326 others
y/n.y/l yet another victim of a @/maxverstappen1 win. had so much fun but i think i'll just stick to acting đđđ« thank you @/redbullracing for having me!!! <333
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username at a red bull event? what happened to once a mclaren girl always a mclaren girl????
username this event was basically work for her ?? you ppl need to stop taking everything so personally omg
username professional SUPER FAST driver, part time actress â€ïž by author
username you're in miami the same week of the miami gp. coincidence? i think not đđ
username GORGEOUS GORGEOUS GIRL
redbullracing Glad you had fun Y/n! Maybe we should start considering you for a guest appearance in our garage đ
mclaren Thanks for the offer, Red Bull! But we've already got dibs on her đ
username UM I HOPE THIS ISN'T A JOKE ??
username don't play with me like this admin!!
mclaren Don't worry. We won't hold this against you đ§Ą
y/n.y/l ily guys đ§Ąđ§Ąđ§Ą
username Ok cool now go finish season 4
username Why are u in Miami shouldnât u be filming obx 4 đȘ
y/n.y/l side quest
username not the Y/n x F1 content I was hoping for but at this point I'll take what I can get
maxverstappen1 Next time I'll give you a head start. Enjoyed having you with us, Y/n đ«¶
y/n.y/l there will definitely not be a next time but thanks tho!!!đđŒ always a pleasure seeing you â€ïž
username pretty đ©·
username Why is Max literally thisđ§đŒââïžâ€ïž by author
landonorris Um what's this?
y/n.y/l đ¶ not what it looks like
username seeing you two banter like this makes my heart ache đ
username i'm never moving on from y/nlando sigh
username OBX S4 WHEN QUEEN
29 April 2024
mclaren added to their story
y/n.y/l
Liked by maxfewtrell and 1.890.345 others
y/n.y/l me and FORMULA 1 RACE WINNER lando norris
view all 3.830 comments
username JUST WHEN I THOUGHT TODAY COULDN'T GET ANY BETTER OMFG
username formula 1 race winner lando norris has a nice ring to it đ â€ïž by author
username What a race, and what a win for Lando!!!
username IM LOSING IT YALL I JUST CHECKED OUT OF CURIOSITY AND BRIGHTON ALSO WON TODAY Y/N MANIFESTED HER IDEAL SUNDAY
username minus the relaxing part lol i know for a fact bestie was stressing in that garage
carlossainz55 It's great to see you back at a race! Missed having you around! â€ïž
y/n.y/l thank you carlitos â€ïž wish i could've got to see you up there with lando
charles_leclerc ouch ? đ«€
y/n.y/l noooo, i didn't mean you!!! x
maxverstappen1 ouch?
y/n.y/l i did mean you. sorry /:
username are we back in 2022 and i didn't realise?????? not complaining at all tho
mclaren You and FORMULA 1 RACE WINNER Lando Norris look amazing! 𧥠â€ïž by author
username admin definitely ships
username children of divorce rise !!!!!!! â€ïž by author
username u think u're so funny liking this @.y/n.y/n but we're actually hurting we want our mum back!!!
username seeing you celebrate with lando was everything đ„čđ„čđ„č
username when i tell you i sCREAMED !!!!!!
username Everything in the world has been healed due to this post
oscarpiastri Awesome that you could come watch. Missed you â€ïž
y/n.y/l missed you more pastry boy â€ïžâ€ïž
username we were robbed from this friendship !!!đȘ
username can't believe how emotional I am seeing you two together at his big win
francisca.cgomes â€ïžâ€ïžâ€ïž â€ïž by author
username just realised i am not as over y/nlando as i thought i was. in fact i am not over y/nlando at all.
username well seeing you with FORMULA 1 RACE WINNER Lando Norris just hit me right in the feelsđ
landonorris Thanks for being there to share the moment with us â€ïž â€ïž by author
landonorris Also I think after this you might now have to come to every race ever
y/n.y/l clearing my schedule as we speak đ«Ą
username i am so ready to be delusional
05 May 2024
#actress!reader#social media au#f1 imagine#f1 smau#f1 x reader#lando norris smau#lando norris x reader#lando norris x y/n#lando norris social media au#lando norris imagine#instagram au#ln4 smau#ln4 x reader#ln4 imagine
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good enough â joe burrow
summary â âweâre not good enoughâ is starting to sound and feel like âiâm not good enoughâ for joe
warnings â fem!reader, whole lotta angst, mentions of panic/not feeling great, takes place after the game against the eagles, lots of italics so sorry, maybe some ooc joe?? halfway proofread so donât come for me.
note â i listened to the song jâs lullaby (darlinâ iâd wait for you) by delaney bailey and whewww it fueled the angst
ANOTHER FUMBLE RECOVERY. another turnover. another at-home loss. he couldnât fight this game anymore, he couldnât fight the refs, he couldnât deny the very blatant fact that they werenât good enough.
so he sat, watching jake perform the last moments of the game. he watched as they lost, the score 37-17. he knew the stakes coming into the game. the eagles were a prominent team, a good opponent. he was expecting a good game out of it, not a blowout.
the post-game press conference was going to be a nightmare.
what kept him sane as he walked in the tunnel wasnât a thing or an event, it was a person. you. he knew you watched the entire thing, he knew youâd be upset, as was he. he also knew that if one person said the wrong thing heâd snap.
he just needed to see you. just for one second.
he walked into the tunnel, his head hanging as cameras flashed. he clenched his fists; they wanted a picture of this?
âjoe,â he picked up his to the sound of your voice, and if he didnât know better, he would have collapsed right then and there. he walked up to you, putting the rest of the energy he had into his getting to you. he gently wrapped his arms around you, inhaling your perfume, reveling in your warmth.
you pulled apart from him like gum from the concrete; he didnât want to let you go. he didnât want to go to the press conference and face the failures, his failures.
âdonât you dare go there,â you gently warned, your voice like a cool stream over a sore wound. your hands held his clenched fists, which eventually opened to envelop yours. you were right, but it was too late; he was already there.
âiâll see you at home,â he swallowed. his eyes twitched, the glass beneath them shattering as he made eye contact with you. he took a breath; he was not going to lose it.
âi love you,â you reminded him, letting go of his hands.
âi love you,â he hummed, mustering up some energy to offer you a smile. to you, it just looked like a more relaxed expression. he trailed off, being whisked away by staffers. he gave you one last look before he disappeared to the locker rooms.
â
his drive home was silent. his hands wrung the steering wheel as the conference played over in his mind.
âweâre not good enough, weâre not good enough. we gotta get better,â
âwe gotta take responsibility for how weâre playing individually,â
âi donât think anybody was good enough today,â
the underlying message that the reporters didnât catch, thankfully, was that he wasnât good enough. he should have been better. it was all his fault.
youâd catch it though. he knew you saw through him the moment you saw him. he loved it about you, that he didnât have to say anything for you to get him. it wasnât always the case, but it was this time.
he pulled into the driveway, throwing the car into park and sitting there for a moment. he stared at the wall of the garage, losing himself in the defeat and disappointment of the night. he blinked, throwing himself out of whatever funk he was in, and shut the car off. his body ached, his head was heavy, and all he wanted to do was sleep. it was only 6 pm; going to bed now wouldnât hurt right?
he grabbed his bag and walked up into the house. he opened the door to the smell of vanilla and woodsmoke, his eyes directed to a candle that was lit in the kitchen. he didnât see you in the living room or the kitchen, and for a second he thought youâd left. he swallowed, nerves bubbling in his gut as he kicked his shoes off by the door.
âbabe?â he called, his voice hoarse and scratchy. his expression relaxed as he heard you pad down the stairs, seeing you in sweats and a t-shirt.
âhey,â you smiled, coming off the stairs. you crossed your arms over your chest, watching as joe stood there. he didnât know what to do, clearly this game proved that. he just wasnât good enough. the voices from past recruiters filled his mind as he zoned out again, whispering sweet lies to him about his performance.
heâd never be good enough.
thereâs always someone better.
he wasnât even good enough for you.
his breath hitched as he focused on you, the world around him coming back into focus.
âwhat?â he cleared his throat, seeing the confused expression on your face.
âi asked if you were hungry,â you repeated. seeing him this dazed worried you, especially given the circumstances.
âdonât really have an appetite,â he responded, moving past you and towards the stairs. his emotions were a sour cocktail, and he was tired of it being the only thing settling in his stomach. he wanted you told hold him, to comfort him, but he also needed to figure out what exactly happened out there. his brain was leaning towards finding a solution, even if there was no use in the state he was in.
âi figured,â you hummed, letting him stroll past you up the stairs, âiâll be here when youâre ready,â you added. youâd wait for him, all day every day. youâd let him go through his process, do his routine, and heâd come back to you. he always did.
joe paused on the stairs, something stopping him. he didnât know what it was, maybe it was your voice in his head breaking through the noise, telling him to not shut you out. maybe it was your divine-like patience. you always made time for his moods and his failures. did he make time for you? amidst his struggles, did he ever take a second to make time for your moods and your struggles? was he being a good boyfriend?
âbaby?â
âwhy are you still here?â he asked you, his tone sharp, despite him meaning to sound that way.
âwhat?â his tone caught you off guard, making you rapidly blink to help you process.
âyou should leave,â he continued, âyouâŠâ he was panicking. why was he pushing you away? he needed you.
âwhat are you talking about?â your fear struck you, but you still fought yourself. he couldnât mean what you thought he meant, right? you swallowed, watching as he battled himself. watching as his eyes avoided yours, as his fists unclenched and then clenched again. he was shaking too.
âyouâre always here for me, when have i ever been there for you?â he asked, âiâm not a good boyfriend, iâm not a good quarterback,â
âjoe, stop,â your voice stopped him, a stern expression reminding him much of his mother. while you were serious, there was undoubtedly a kind warmth behind your eyes. he panted, his eyes filling with hot tears.
as silence sat between you, joeâs breathing lessened. he walked back down the stairs, dropping his bag at the foot of them. he stood there, deflated, as you approached him. you took his face in your hands, feeling warm tears hit your fingers. your thumbs whisked them away, trying to give joe some semblance of comfort during a time where there wasnât much of it.
joe wrapped his arms around your waist, nuzzling his face into your neck. he pulled you in close, the weight on his chest lessening as he let you pull him in. he let your warmth take him over, spreading like a wildfire over his bones. he felt your fingers through his hair, your hands running down his back. you were the personification of comfort and safety, and he was trying so hard to drink it all in.
âyou are not a bad boyfriend,â you hummed, and in response he squeezed you tighter, âyouâre not a bad quarterback,â you added, running your hands down his back. he pulled away from you as tears fell from his eyes. he wiped them away with the palm of his hand.
âhow?â
âdo you remember that time i was followed by some guy? i called you, and without any hesitation you answered and came to help me,â
âthatâs just what a boyfriend is supposed to do,â
âhold on, iâve got more,â you patted his chest, âthe time when my mom had a cancer scare. you left practice early every day to make sure not only that i was ok, but if i needed anything. the time i got promoted at work and you surprised me with my friends over for dinner. the time i was spiraling so badly after a bad encounter with someone at work you picked me up, made me a delicious dinner, and made sure i felt appreciated and loved,â you listed them off, and there were many more. you guys werenât perfect, by any means, but he was enough. heâd always be enough.
âyouâre a good quarterback. if you donât want to look at the numbers, look at your heart. you have such a passion for these young guys, for the vets. you lead them well and confidently, you make sure they know theyâre appreciated and give them their first game ball if necessary, like you did with andrei. but because none of us are perfect, we make mistakes, but it makes us better. it doesnât define you as a person,â you continued. you watched the gears turn, and while it would take some time for joe to see that himself, he knew you were right. he knew what you were talking about, he saw what you saw, and it calmed the frayed nerves in his body.
âi donât deserve you,â he whispered, âi really donât,â
âyou deserve the world, joe burrow,â you countered, giving him a soft smile. he gave you one back, sniffling.
âiâm sorry for telling you to leave, i justâŠi donât know,â
âi know, just donât push me away. iâm not here to make things worse for you, i hope you know that,â you allowed a laugh at your last words, making joe chuckle too.
âi know that,â he agreed.
âdonât push me away,â you repeat, resting your hand on his chest, it movie with the rise and fall of his chest.
âi wonât,â
âgood,â you smiled, ânow, i say itâs time for a comfort show,â you grinned, which made his face light up. the both of you walked over to the couch, sitting down on the plush white cushions. you settled a blanket across your lap, while joe grabbed a blanket of his own, laying his head in your lap.
âspongebob?â he turned his head up to look at you, a hopeful look in his eyes.
âsure thing, squidward,â you teased, kissing him on the nose. you turned it on, then nestling into your spot on the couch. you ran your fingers through joeâs hair, occasionally catching his neck before going back into his hair. joe melted into you, cuddling into your warmth and your safety. he watched the episode, giggling at a couple parts, but the most important thing is that he was with you. that you were the glue that held him together. the feeling of your hands in his hair sent prickles down his spine, and in a good and comforting way. every prickle sent warmth across his body, relaxing his taut muscles.
you bent down and kissed his temple.
âi love you, joe burrow,â you hummed.
âi love you more, y/n l/n,â he hummed back. it wasnât too long before sleep bid him closer, and took over his body. he slumped into you, his soft breaths telling you he fell asleep. you kissed him again, smiling against his warm skin. he was safe and he was loved, and thatâs all that mattered.
joey looked so sad after the game đ„ș hopefully this makes a bit better. ALSO! i do have a couple more fics lined up that might be released this week so STAY TUNED!! i just wanted to write an angsty fic ngl
tags: @wickedfun9 @joeyfranchise
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đđ Holding Us.
Spencer Reid x Fem!reader
Summary: You finally had a perfect date with the guy you like, you even kissed and everything seemed perfect. But suddenly he starts acting weird and you think you know this behavior.
Words: 2,5k.
TW: mentions of trauma, death, injuries. drugs and addictions!!! especially spencer's history with them. angst and also comfort???. spoilers for season 2. english is not my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).
Note: Next time I'm probably going to write something that might be all fluff, but drama and angst are calling to me.
⥠Enjoy! âĄ
The taste of green tea, accompanied by ginger, entered your throat again and you couldn't help but let out a sigh. Your reading glasses fogged up and you mentally cursed yourself for not remembering to take them off sooner. Your mind was elsewhere and the bandage on your right hand made it impossible for you to go about your business normally.
You settled into the jet seat and tried to ignore the pain you felt in your arms to continue reading normally and turn the page, but it was still impossible and not even your favorite hot drink worked as medicine. All the recent events were replaying in your mind like a movie, and being attacked by a serial killer on your first case after a long flu break was worthy of a dramatic script.
Fortunately, Spencer was your partner at the time and helped you just before the unsub could use his knife on you badly and end your life in the blink of an eye. You had cut your hand deeply in the middle of the struggle and Reid appeared to save you when you were lost, even with his few physical skills, he fought the man as best he could and shot him without even hesitating.
You didn't even get a chance to thank him because it all happened so fast and he'd been acting weird since you came back to work after your break. In the ambulance, he barely looked at you when the paramedic finished patching you up, asked if you were okay, and then went back to acting like you were a pest to be avoided at all costs. You kept wondering if you'd done something wrong, because just four weeks ago the two of you had the best date of your lives, even kissed, and now you weren't even acting like friends.
You began to wonder how much could have changed in a week. Everything was fine until you officially went back to work and tried to act normal. You got sick after the date, Spencer was a gentleman and brought you soup and flowers for days, even though he knew you wouldn't let him see you. And then, overnight, you found out that he'd been kidnapped in a case while you were away, and assumed that was why his constant messages and calls had stopped. You came back thinking that you could be a support to him after such a traumatic experience, but instead he avoided you.
âIs everything okay?â Hotch's voice startled you, almost causing you to drop your cup on the floor. He was sitting in front of you and you thought he was asleep like everyone else.
âOh, you scared me.â You put your hand over your heart and put the teacup down on the table to look at him.
âYou haven't answered my question.â He insisted, settling back in his seat and giving you a look that compelled you to tell him everything. âIs everything okay?â
âYeah, I was just thinking about what happened and how I didn't get a chance to thank Reid.â You admitted somewhat awkwardly, not wanting to make it obvious that your feelings went beyond friendship, although deep down you knew it was clear. âI've seen him acting strangely, I think he's avoiding me.â
âYou should try to talk to him and ask him what's wrong. He saved your life today, that's not something you do by avoiding someone.â Your boss said in a reassuring tone, noticing your great nervousness about the subject. âI don't think he'll have a problem talking to you, and now he seems as thoughtful as you are.â He finished, pointing with his head.
You took the moment to look at Spencer and noticed that Hotchner was right. He looked as pensive and confused as you had been during the minutes you had all been traveling. He was frowning slightly, fiddling with his fingers and looking out the window, even though it was night and there wasn't much to see because of the darkness. You couldn't help but wonder if he was thinking about you.
âI hope you're right.â You murmured, taking another sip of your tea and looking at the papers the man was going through. âStrauss will send me home after this, right?â
âYou can't do much with your injured use hand, you need a few days.â
âI'm fine and my other hand is fine, I have not even had to take painkillers. I've got it under control.â You replied tiredly, trying to ignore the pain you felt by making a gesture. âPlease don't send me home. I can't anymore, I have to work or I will go crazy.â You added, practically begging him.
âDon't get used to it.â He warned you in a serious tone before continuing. âBut I'll talk to her and you stay out of it. You'll just profile and theorize until your hand is right. Nothing more than that and where my eyes see you.â
âYou're the best boss in the world, really, I'll buy you a mug that says that.â You said, getting up from your seat and holding back the urge to hug him, knowing it was too much.
âAgent.â He called out to you in a serious tone before you could do anything. âBe careful and tell me if you are in pain...just don't tell anyone I intervened for you or I'll fire you.â
âUnderstood, sir.â You replied in the same formal tone before heading for the bathroom.
Something inside you knew it wasn't normal for the stitches in your hand to hurt so much, so you slipped into the plane's bathroom as quickly as you could, thankful that most of the team was asleep enough to notice your groans as you moved forward and closed the door behind you. You carefully removed the bandage, seeing that a few stitches had opened up, and pulled the painkillers you'd been given to ease the pain out of the bag, but before you could take any, a couple of knocks on the door made you jump and pray it wasn't your boss.
âWho is it?â You asked in confusion.
âIt's me, Spencer.â
You didn't even have to think before you unlocked the door and yanked it open with your good hand.
âDo you want to come in? I was just leaving...â You started to babble as soon as your eyes met his and all the nervousness of a teenager in love appeared.
âI wanted to know if you were okay, I saw you come in complaining of pain.â He explained calmly, lowering his gaze to your hand and watching it with concern.
âOh, don't worry. I'm fine.â
âMay I check?â He asked cautiously, and you nodded a little nervously.
You went further into the bathroom so he could do the same, and he did, taking the back of your injured hand after washing his hands to make sure everything was okay. He touched you so gently that you almost forgot the pain you were in without even taking the painkillers.
âOne of the stitches opened up, that's why it hurts. But it's not infected, so they should just sew it up and you'll be fine.â Spencer reassured you while you looked at him carefully.
Incredibly, this was the first time since your return that he had said more than one sentence to you, and he was less than a meter away from you. It made you feel like a fool to be mildly excited about it.
âAnd how are you? You were the hero who took the worst of it and saved my life.â You pointed as you watched him carefully apply a new bandage to your hand.
As soon as you asked, he pulled away and unconsciously put his hand to his stomach, where the unsub had elbowed him pretty hard in the middle of the struggle. âI'm fine. Nothing I can't handle.â
âSure?â
He nodded and ran his fingers gently over his stomach, wincing as he tried to hide the pain. You always thought he wasn't very good at hiding things. As soon as he looked into your eyes and saw your worried face, he repeated that he was fine. You raised a skeptical eyebrow, not believing him for a second about his supposed well-being. You had spent enough time with him to know when he was hiding something, just by looking into his eyes.
âYou're a terrible liar.â You said, looking at him with narrowed eyes while he repeatedly shook his head. âThen let me see.â
Spencer's eyes widened at your request, but the blush that appeared on his cheeks betrayed that there was more than embarrassment in his expression. He hesitated for a moment, but finally agreed, knowing he wasn't going to get out of this one. He slowly lifted his shirt, wincing as he did so, revealing the large red bruise on his stomach, just above his hip.
Your gaze fell on the large red bruise on his stomach and you gasped, covering your mouth in shock. It was much larger than you had expected and the color much more intense. You reached out tentatively and gently touched the bruised skin, causing him to flinch involuntarily.
âAre you in much pain?â You asked in a worried voice, trying to decipher his expression.
âIt hurts a lot.â He nodded slowly, wincing as you touched the sensitive area, sending a shiver down his back. âBut I'll be fine, really.â
âOkay.â You whispered, not knowing if it was time to move away from him or not. Not knowing what to do, you spoke again and didn't move. âI wanted to thank you for what you did, I haven't been able to before.â
He seemed surprised by your appreciation, and even more so when you stopped touching him and took a step back.
âI would never let anyone hurt you.â He said seriously, as if it were an oath.
You looked at him for a few seconds to make sure he meant it, and then you looked down at the ground. Something inside of you was screaming at you that this was the time to talk to him and put all your doubts on the table for him to resolve. You needed answers or you would go crazy, and maybe this was the time.
âSpencer.â You called out to him and waited for him to look at you to start talking. âI wanted to ask you what's wrong, if I did something or I don't know, apologize if it was like that, because it's terrible to see you avoiding me.â You began to speak quickly because you were nervous. âAnd if it's about the other night...our date and all that. I'm really sorry if I made you uncomfortable and pushed you into something.â
âNo, you didn't do anything.â He stopped you immediately and tried to touch your face to make you look into his eyes, but he couldn't because of a sudden pain in his stomach and he had to lean against the sink. âThe date went well, very well. It was actually wonderful.â
âWhat's wrong with you, why are you acting like this all of a sudden?â You asked him. You asked him, taking a few steps toward him and noticing that his eyes were on the painkillers you had left on the sink. Then you noticed how dilated his pupils were. âAre you in a lot of pain? Do you need these?â
âI'm fine, I'm not acting out in any way.â He replied, completely ignoring your last question, but still with his eyes on the meds.
âCome on, I know you. I know there's something wrong with you, and you don't have to hide it.â You persisted, trying to understand what was happening to him. You could tell by his body language that he was tense and defensive.
âI said I'm fine.â He cut you off.
âNo, you're not, I realized something is wrong.â You tried to approach him because of his erratic behavior. His hands had begun to shake and his fingers were inches from the box of painkillers. âYou can trust me, I know you and I'm here for you.â
âYou think you know me that well already?â His tone made you feel uncomfortable and invasive. You could tell he was bothered by your implications. âOne date doesn't get you that far.â
Ouch, that was a low blow.
âI didn't say that, Spencer.â You said, trying not to sound defensive. You didn't want to start a fight when you were just worried about him. âI just want to help you.â
âI don't need your help.â
You were silent for several seconds, your eyes following his to the painkillers. âBut you need these, don't you?â
The trembling of his hands intensified with your question, you could see his pupils seem to dilate even more at the sight of the drugs in your hands, and his breathing became irregular. He nodded several times after your question, desperate to get his hands on them.
âSince when?â
âWhat?â He asked confusedly as you took the painkillers from his hands.
âYou know what I'm talking about.â You looked him straight in the eye with seriousness and much more concern than before. âI know an addict when I see one.â
Your words had hit him like a big bucket of cold water, freezing him in place. He barely blinked a few times before he spoke.
âI don't know what you're talking about.â
âWe both know.â You took a few steps toward him and took his hands, stopping the trembling in them. âAnd that means you're not alone in this anymore.â
He could hardly believe what you said. His mind had convinced him that if you found out, you would yell at him, turn your back on him, or report him, and instead...you were comforting him?
Spencer felt unable to look at you, the guilt washed over him. He tried to pull away.
âYou...I'm a drug addict, and you're not even mad?â
âI'm not one to judge you, but I am one to help you.â
His eyes widened slightly at your words. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. He desperately wanted to protest, to tell you that he was hopeless and completely lost...but how could he? You seemed so determined to stand by his side and support him, even after learning such a painful and shameful truth.
âYou won't...leave me?â
âI would never leave.â You gave him a small smile and felt him drop his head on your shoulder and relax. âIt's going to be okay.â
Finally, he closed his eyes and let out a choked sob without pulling away. Your words had hit him at a low point, and the reality of the situation had come crashing down on him after he had tried to ignore it for so long. He slowly embraced you, feeling that he would collapse without your support.
âEverything will be fine.â
And you were so sure of it that you saw yourself in the mirror every day.
#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds#matthew gray gubler
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NCT Dream who has a crush on you (high school edition.)
AN: This is Dreamies' POV from my other scenario! You can check it here to understand the context more. <3
Mark Lee
His first encounter with you was when you went to the faculty room to give your homeroom teacher your class' papers which you collected. Turns out Mark was there to talk to his homeroom teacher. Both of you made eye contact, and Mark being Mark, smiles at you in which you replied with a timid one. Mark found you cute but never had the guts to approach you because you two never bumped into each other the following days. Up until now, he still daydreams about that cute junior of his.Â
Huang Renjun
You've been classmates with Renjun for a long time and at first, he doesn't notice you at all, really. Until the following year, he just found himself drawn to you. Glancing at you or whenever you passed by him, his eyes just follows you. He's too shy to approach you but he's very entrailed by your beauty. What you don't know is that when you're busy staring at him doodling something at the back of his notebook, Renjun's actually sketching you! Your eyes, face, and your smile. Slowly, you became his muse.Â
Lee Jeno
OH. OH!!! This is a painful mutual pining apparently. Jeno likes you WAYYYY back then, but he just keeps it all by himself because he thinks he doesn't stand a chance on you. You two have interacted a few times, during group projects where you two are groupmates but that's it. He can count in his fingers the many times you two talked, and sometimes he blames himself for being quiet and awkward that he couldn't muster up the courage to talk to you. :< he's scared that you might be weirded out by him! (no you're not oh my god jeno!!!)
Lee Donghyuck
Sometimes, Haechan just wants to confess to you at any moment when it's just the two of you. When he's walking you home, or when you two are in a convenience store holding ice cream, or maybe during prom, where he was your prom partner. BUT Donghyuck's afraid of ruining your friendship so he just takes care of you in the most possible way without you thinking that he likes you. It's great thing that you're oblivious with his actions. Not noticing that he always have heart eyes on you.Â
Na Jaemin
Probably the one that knows you have a crush on him because the way you act around him is different from the way you act around guys. And yes, he was celebrating deep inside that the feelings are mutual. Probably won't make a move quickly because he doesn't want to rush things but hey, it's a perfect opportunity for him to get closer to you. He often tease you and is very flirty with you!! He couldn't help it, not when you act shy around him. Oh he's just controlling himself to not hug you right there!
Zhong Chenle
"Hey Chenle, yn's here," Chenle's teammate pointed out. Chenle will curse internally, not his crush watching his game. He thought that your sport is on the same schedule with his match, but looks like it's done already. Chenle was quick to concentrate but he seems more pumped up today compared to his other game, probably because you're there. He has to impress you. That's why he's more active than usual. Scores the most and hypes the crowd too. His team mates keep on teasing him that it's because of you. He denies it though lol.Â
Park Jisung
I think that Jisung became part of the dance club not only because he has passion for dancing but because he wants to impress you. He's at that phase where he thinks dancing can impress the girl he likes and yeah, he's right about that. So whenever he dances for a school event, he makes sure that he does his best because he never know whether you're watching him or not. ALSO, I think that he's quite popular because of his dancing but he's a shy student when he's not dancing, so he avoids contact whenever you two ran to each other!!!
#nct dream#nct imagines#nct dream fic#nct fic#nct x reader#nct#nct dream imagine#nct scenarios#nct fluff#nct dream reactions#nct dream imagines#nct drabbles#nct mark#nct jeno#nct renjun#nct jaemin#nct haechan#nct chenle#nct jisung
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đȘŒ HI USER YUELLII OMG I LUV JEALOUSY TROPES MAYBE THAT SAYS... SOMETHING ABOUT MY CHARACTER BUT I LOVEEEE JEALOUSY TROPES. AND WITH NEUVILETTE????? SOEMONE WHO PRIABBLY DOESNT EXPERIENCE JEALOUSY OFTEN IF AT ALL???? im sold. IM SOLD. PULLING OUT MY CREDIT CARD. IWOULD LITERALLY KILL TO READ UR THOUGHTS ON IT
The Four Stages of Jealousy : THE IUDEX.
STAGE I. â Identification.
There is a threat, that a person may feel losing someone to someone better than them. "I want what you have, and I hate that you have what I want."
Neuvillette wasnât quite sure of the sudden twist in his stomach as he stood at your doorstep, a bag of pastries tucked under one of his arms and a box of tea bags carried under his other.
Saturdays, three oâclock sharp in the afternoon held meaning: A time in which heâd arrive at your boutique, treats in hand and a pleasant look on his face. Heâd try on one of your hats, maybe, for it was a prime time for tea, taken advantage of by the two of you, alone together every Saturday afternoon. It was an evening of the week where he was most happiest, though that mightâve been only an assumption. But the tranquility he usually felt standing at your doorstep was never one he could ignore.
Unfortunately, said tranquility seemed to be lacking this time around.
What he expected as another nice time alone with you ( especially since it was on your undocumented scheduleâbut who cared for documents, when he looked forward to this meeting every week? ) was instead being interrupted by a certain someone. Namely, a certain Champion Duelist. And maybe, Neuvillette would not be so bothered, had she not been sitting in his seat.
( Said seat was also unspoken, or âundocumentedâ between the two of you, but still. He sat there every weekâtherefore by repeated pattern alone, that antique chair in front of the table should be his. )
( And sure, this mightâve been your boutiqueâs seating area, where everyone comes to sit during the day; But on Saturdays during tea time, heâd like to think that seat was practically reserved for him. )
âNeuvillette!â you practically gasped, facial expression turning into one of lightened excitement at seeing him. There was a blissful ignorance in your voiceââignorantâ in the way he was truly glad you didnât know he was mentally annoyed at the mere fact his seat was taken. But nevertheless, the tightrope of his heart fluttered at the sound of your voice, which always sounded so enthusiastic every week he came back here. Perhaps you were just excited to see him as much as he was excited to see youâthe thought alone brings a shiver to his spine.
He approaches forward with a polite smile of his own when you pat the empty spot adjacent to you on the loveseat. Ah, so the theft of his usual antique chair leaves him to sit beside you. Maybe the uninvited guest was welcomed, now that he thought about it.
âWhat brings Miss Clorinde with us today?â he finally asked, addressing the most obvious outlier first. When he set the bag of pastries down on the table, he watched as the Duelist eyed it with interest.
Clorinde hummed. âI was here for a small chat, then I was told that Monsieur Neuvillette would be âarriving soonâ. And here you are.â At the recount of events, Neuvillette noticed how Clorinde threw a playful look at you. This playfulness did not stop, unfortunately for him, when she leaned forward to peek at the paper bag he brought in. âThen I stayed, because I thought: âWhat could the Chief Justice possibly say thatâs interesting enough for weekly conversations?ââ
You gasped at her teasing insult. âClorinde!â you scolded with slight laughter. âMonsieur Neuvillette is a great companion for tea conversations! Heâs very interesting, indeed, I promise you!â
âThank you,â Neuvillette coughed through his words. Heâs beginning to feel a bit awkward hereâŠ
âOh?â Clorinde piped up again, just before Neuvillette could even get another word out. âThereâs a lot of pastries in here, and also a new box of tea?â
âHe brings them for us to share every week!â you exclaimed happily, grabbing the bag off the table and kindly distributing a treat to everyone. And thatâs when suddenly, Neuvillette wishes he only bought one for the two of you, because he watches as you set down the pieces of Conch Madeleines in front of the Champion Duelist, despite Neuvillette knowing those were your favorites. Meanwhile, instead, you gave him and yourself the remaining other pastries. But surely, you wouldnât just give up your favorites like that⊠Unless you favored Clorinde. Ah, but maybe he was overthinking it. âIsnât he the sweetest?â
Clorinde sends him a casual smirk, likely to tease him. âSweetest, certainly.â
He wasnât sure how to respond to any of this at all.
When he eventually had to leave, Clorinde still stayed there to chat with you, and he felt empty walking out of your boutique. Emptier than usual, actually. It was certainly confusing, due to the fact nothing inherently bad happened, and he certainly didnât want to say Clorindeâs presence bothered him, or anything over-the-top like that.
Hm.
Neuvillette didnât get to talk to you as much as he wanted to today.
STAGE II. â Confrontative.
Where negative thoughts start to bloom as "envy." Jealousy begins to indicate love for the person, and the individual is afraid of losing that object of their love.
Itâs the following Saturday when he sees you again, and he canât quite understand why he feels an air of relief upon seeing that Clorinde is not there today.
âNeuvillette!â You greet him with the same smile and same excitement as always, and the rush of paradise courses through his body before he sits across from you in his usual seat: the antique chair right in front of you. He sets down his paper bag of fresh pastries; And upon doing so, he canât help but smile when he noticed there are only two teacups on the table. One for you, and one for himself. âYou seem a little more delighted todayââWas it that obvious?ââWhatâs gotten you into a good mood, Monsieur?â
He hummed. âNothing, really.â He actually wasnât quite sure why he was feeling so joyous today, either, but as long as you were sitting there still smiling at him, then it would all be alright. âItâs just natural, since itâs always my pleasure to spend my Saturday afternoons with you.â
Bring your hand up to cover your mouth, you lightly gasped at his words. âOh, Monsieur!â you giggled. âI hadnât known you could be a charmer with your words!â
He liked the reaction you gave him. He thinks he liked the feeling of approval you gave him, but even more. Neuvillette learned rather gradually that you always tended to get a happy sort-of embarrassment from his âcomplimentsâ. Said âcomplimentsâ, however, referred to mere truthful facts heâs laid for you. But thereâs a certain loveliness that comes with confiding in someone to tell all your truths to, and heâs more than elated that youâre the one he trusts to blabber endlessly to. He just hopes it can stay like this for a long time: Just the two of you, enjoying your Saturday afternoon tea.
âSo,â Neuvillette began, watching as you took a bite of the Conch Madeleine he bought specifically for you. He had to catch himself from smiling at youâif his duty was to buy your favorite treat every week, then so be it. âHow has your week been since I last saw you?â
Your hand once again flies up to cover your mouth as you quickly finish to chew and swallow the bite before answering him. âItâs been fun, actually! I saw a concert performed by a famous violinistâI believe I mightâve even spotted you in the front rowâŠâ
âAh, yes, that wouldâve been me. It was a spectacular performance; Iâm happy to know you saw it,â he smiled. Hm, if he knew you were there that night, he certainly wouldâve said hello. Your hand moves upwards once more to bring your teacup closer to your lips, and now heâs curious to ask: âAnd that ring of yoursâthatâs new, when did you get it?â
âOh!â After setting the teacup down, you quickly leaned forwards, outstretching your right arm to show off the ring to him at a closer view. âI just got it yesterday, actually. Isnât it beautiful?â
âIt is.â It really dazzles to compliment your eyes. Neuvillette catches himself thinking of little things heâs never thought before. Like the way your hair frames your face perfectly, especially at this angle. Or the way your eyes held this delicate shine he admired so dearly, only now heightened by the sparkle of the ringâs reflection. Thereâs a new tide of poetry unspoken in the depths of his mind, and they might as well stay locked until he figures out just what this emotion is.
When you offer your hand for him to get a closer inspection of the ring is when his breath seems almost stolen from his lungs. Months and months of these weekly tea meetings, and yet he feels this is the closest proximity heâs ever been to you. Here, in his antique chair in the middle of your boutique shop, holding your hand from across the table.
But he feels a spark that he prays you sense as well, for the mere desire of wanting this moment to last forever is enough to tell him that he is completely in love with you.
He leans down gently to reach closer to your hand, kissing your knuckle so featherlight next to the ring. âAnd itâs even more beautiful on you,â he mutters to you when he pulls away.
Your heart mightâve skipped a beat when you retracted your hand, but he has no ideaâhe was too lovestruck just now to even think properly. But you take just a moment to recover whilst heâs still stuck in his little daze; Though, who could blame him when he just discovered the ethereal feeling of falling in love?
âThank you,â you exhaled with a smile that seemed a little breathless. âLady Clorinde helped pick it, actually.â
âŠWhat?
Well, that was a name he completely forgotten until just now. He cleared his throat, attempting to regain his composure after the sudden whiplash of emotions. From finding out heâs in love, to the pang of unwarranted negativity for the Champion Duelist. As expected, he couldnât tell what this uncomfortable feeling was, but he certainly did not like it.
âClorinde was there, you say?â he tried to clarify.
You nodded. A little too happily for his liking. âWe went out shopping yesterday.â Oh. âAnd she said this ring really matched âthe colors of my personalityâ, whatever that means!â you wholeheartedly laughed. The way you spoke of her, with all this smiling and all these giggles, was making him crave for something more. Did⊠Did you perhaps want to see him more outside of these tea times, too? You seem perfectly fine shopping with Clorinde now, after all.
Heâs never gotten personal time with you like that. Itâs always been solely Saturday afternoons, nothing more. And yet, Clorinde immediately gets invited to your shopping runs, and apparently her opinion is also important enough to make you buy the ring? How unbelievable. Neuvillette bets if he was there instead, heâd buy you every piece of jewelry that you even took so much as slight interest in, because that was what you deserved. But no, here he was, not invited to these outings at all, and further stuck wallowing as your mere âtea companionâ, and not something more.
The door to the boutique suddenly opens, and the both of you turn your heads to the customer.
But instead of a client, you were met with the face of a slightly-smiling Clorinde, ever so amused to see the both of you here again. Well, she shouldnât be amused. Neuvillette was here on schedule.
âAh, youâre here!â you say excitedly, briskly standing up to grab another set of tea; And now, Neuvillette canât quite tell if you greet everyone at the door with this same excitement, and itâs not just restricted to him alone. He shouldnât be that selfish, of course, so he thinks perhaps it should just not be directed at Clorinde, specifically.
âPardon me,â Clorinde announced, making her way to the table after you set the tea display down. âIâll be intruding on the both of you again.â Neuvillette wishes he had any right to refuse.
This time, now that heâs regained his rightful spot on the antique chair, Clorinde had no choice but to sit⊠right next to you on the loveseatâthe same place Neuvillette sat last week when his spot was stolen. A moment comes forth where he now no longer wants his seat at all ( which he doesnât understand why, because shouldnât he be happy his unspoken designated seat is back? ), and prefers the loveseat.
Maybe it was the sight of Clorinde next to you, and the fact she was sitting so much closer than heâd like to imagine. And suddenly, thatâs when he realizes he doesnât like the idea of Clorinde being this close to you at all.
âOh! Youâre wearing the ring I got you!â Clorinde recognizes. She grabbed your right hand to immediately inspect it, and Neuvillette canât help but feel like someone just shot him. Not only did she comfortably grab your hand like it was nothing ( meanwhile, he had to find both the confidence and the breath to even try to kiss your hand earlier ), but she also got it for you? The little detail you never mentioned: That Clorinde bought you the ring.
Now Neuvillette is internally questioning what exactly this ring means. Is it akin to a proposal? A vow? A promise ring for the future?
The longer he stays here the more insane he may be driven, he thinks.
âSorry to cut my time here short, but I think I have to get going,â he spoke up. Both Clorinde and you looked over at him, and he figured this was a good ideaâhe doesnât think he can handle another tea session where the two of you are happily talking as he sits there awkwardly quiet. âIâll be off, now.â
âAlready?â you frowned at him, and that expression almost makes him want to stay. But the sight of Clorinde still absentmindedly toying with your hand sends him into a spiral of emotions he needs to sort out. Heâs already stood up to leave without realizing it.
âUnfortunately so,â he says. He mightâve sounded colder than he meant to. It was clear in your face you knew something was wrong, but didnât want to say it out of privacy. But when he walked towards the door, hearing Clorinde continue your conversation on like normal, it was fruitless to even consider it.
He opened the door. It was raining.
It feels like he was losing your love before he could even have it.
STAGE III. â Redirecting.
Where pleasure is derived from hurting others, stemmed from unconscious feelings of envy. The envy can come in a so-called as a form of competitive implication.
The next time he saw you was around the market area in the morning, wandering the streets like a normal citizen on this wavering Wednesday.
Normally, he would have just smiled and waved at most, but this time, something compelled him to walk up and join you. âIs this where to find you on Wednesday mornings?â he asked curiously, catching your starling attention and watching as your lips curved to a smile when you recognized him.
âIt is, Monsieur.â When you stepped ever-so closer to him, a mere basket around your arm being the only thing between you, he felt as if his feet had turned into bubbles, and there was a flutter of heaven around his shoulders. âMy weekly groceries are scheduled for today, however I donât recall ever seeing you on this side of the city, if that isnât just my ignorance.â
He chuckled, âIâm usually at my office by this time, so you would be correct.â Then his arm slid against yours, taking the wooden basket out of your hands and walking a few steps forward down the market street you shopped at. âBut Iâm open to a change of pace, so might I join you on this lovely morning?â
The little smile of contentment you gave him when you answered âOf courseâ made his heart skip a beat. And when you walked forward to hook your arm around his free one, he swears to the sovereign he might simply dissolve right then and there. The closeness of your presence to him now makes his heart race in a way he feels it drumming in his chest, a feeling that is so human that it makes him almost taste the fruit of mortality. You, walking along with him as you hold onto his arm whilst he carries your grocery basketâyou look like romantic partners, and he canât help but feel sort of lightheaded at the mere thought of that.
âAh, look!â you pointed, and Neuvillette allowed himself to be guided by the arm to a nearby vendor. âTheyâre selling slices of apricot pie.â
âYou fancy these desserts as well?â he mused, already fishing his pockets for his wallet. âPerhaps we should purchase a slice or two and save them for our weekend tea session.â
You agreed, âI thought the same.â Then you noticed his shuffling and playfully waved off his hand, insisting he neednât pay. âBut I fear it might spoil by the time Saturday comes.â
âYou want a bite of mine?â And thatâs when Neuvillette wasnât even surprised anymore to hear the voice of the Champion Duelist appearing out of nowhere. He has such horrible luck running into her, that heâs now just accepted it at this point ( or, for better words: he still has yet to accept the fact that maybe Clorinde was specifically seeking you ). She stood there, leaned against a pole with an easy-going expression and a fork in one of her hands, carrying an aluminum tin with the exact same apricot pie you were just eyeing.
You gasp at her appearance, âSure!â Neuvillette doesnât even have a moment to process the mere seconds it takes for you to slip away from his arm, leaving him to follow behind as you skip over to Clorinde. The uninvited guest takes it upon herself to feed you a bite with her forkâit was at this time that the Iudex began to feel like an outlier once again.
âWe were actually about to buy a few slices ourselves,â Neuvillette piped in. He did it quickly, perhaps it was instinct so he wouldnât be left out of the conversation again. âBut an excellent point was brought up, that the dessert might spoil by the time we reach Saturday afternoon.â
âWhy donât you just buy one and eat it now?â Clorinde shrugged. Ah. Neuvillette internally scolded himself; He shouldâve thought of that. And when you waved off her suggestion dismissively, claiming it was fine now that she let you try it, Neuvillette realized he completely missed an opportunity to have dessert with you on a Wednesday instead of a Saturday. That while he was still a man you only saw once at the end of each week, youâd be seeing Clorinde multiple times throughout it.
He wasnât fond of the way Clorinde was still feeding you more bites of pie, either.
âMiss Clorinde,â he addressed. If only he had more of a grasp of human sociability, then he mightâve realized how firm his voice sounded in this situation that was⊠not so serious. âShouldnât you be alongside Furina at this time of day?â
âOn a typical day, yes,â she answered simply. âAnd shouldnât you be in your office?â
He almost glared. âNo, actually, Iâve given myself the time to roam around today.â
âOh wowww,â she teased, though Neuvillette mightâve heard it as something mocking. âLady Furina would be pleased to hear that. Instead of being cooped up in your office or the Opera Epiclese all morning long, youâre out here at the market, even holding a basket for shopping.â
The Iudex cleared his throat. âWell, Iâll have you know that this basket isnât mine.â There was an air of competitiveness in his voice, one that almost had him biting his tongue in surprise of himself. Because it was simply just as he said: a basket. But the fact it belonged to you, and the fact that he was carrying it for youâsuddenly he wanted to boast it and show it off to the world, especially to Clorindeâs face. âThe two of us are shopping together this morning, if youâll excuse us.â His next move mightâve been bold, but the feeling of possessiveness was so airtight and he had no choice but to hook his own arm around yours once more, getting ready to turn and leave.
âSo cold,â Clorinde rolled her eyes. âColdâ was a word often used to describe him, but no, not here. He did not want to appear that way in front of you. âIs this really the attitude you want to spend all morning with?â she asked, this time directed at you.
Something in him snapped. There was an emotion that clouded his head far angrier than annoyance, and it sprouted from the way in which she made him look bad, like the stone-cold Chief Justice everyone thought him to be. Albeit with you, he was trying to be everything but that. Emotional, vulnerable, heartfelt, humanâClorinde was not going to take that away from him.
âIs this really the attitude you want to spend all morning with?â The question kept playing in his mind, as if she was any better than him? She, who most people also saw as stoic, should not be seen by you in a better light than him. She, who did not know your favorite desserts like he did, who did not make time for you like he did, who did not fancy you as much as he didâ
He felt you tug at his arm, snapping him from his thoughts.
Your eyes held the same, worried look you gave him on Saturday when he left so abruptly. So jealously.
Neuvillette cleared his throat once more. âIt seems you are correct, Miss Clorinde.â There was solemness in his voice. Yet he was so quiet as he unlocked his arm from around yours, and handed your basket to Clorinde. âMy attitude proves to be too unfavorable for the likes of this lovely morning, I thank you for bringing it to my attention.â These emotions were too much right now; he was starting to fear them. âMy deepest apologies to you both, Iâll be heading back to the Palais Mermonia now.â
He bowed his head as diplomatically as he could manage, but the skies were already darkening.
âI bid you both a fine rest of your morning.â
âWait, Neuvillette!â
Your call was drowned by the deafening drums of his hammering heartbeat, and the patters of light rainfall from the somber sky.
STAGE IV. â Medea.
At this stage, the grip of envy appears almost irreversible. There is a hatred towards others that dominates their thinking, and happiness or success is no longer foreseen.
Saturday afternoon.
He couldnât see you again, even if it was time for your weekly meeting, not when he was feeling like this.
Not when the sky was pouring from the mere thought of you, and how heâs probably already lost. It was inevitable for a man like him, and he shouldâve realized so earlier. Three oâclock, and you were already probably sipping away with Clorinde at your side, pastries on the table and a dazzling ring on your finger. She was much more human than him, after all, and such a shortcoming became his eventual downfall.
The Palais Mermonia was quiet, though that mightâve been due to the endless rain thatâs been pouring since Wednesday morning.
While it was nice, he couldnât help but feel the silence only amplified his feeling of loneliness in this moment. Especially at this time: a time of the week in which he looked most forward to.
âMonsieur Neuvillette?â a Melusine knocked from right outside his door. âYou have a visitor!â
And before he could even reply, that was when you ignored all formalities, all proper respect as you pushed your way through the door and into his office. The surge of panic he felt from your sudden presence was unrivaled to the way you made haste in getting seated in front of his office table, setting down your handfulâsaid handful consisting of two teacups, and a bag of pastries.
His heart practically shattered. The familiar cups and bag of treats on the table, the way your hair and clothes were lightly damp from the rainâyou made the effort, coming all the way here just to see him. Just so the both of you wouldnât miss a single Saturday afternoon together.
âI believe you mightâve forgotten our schedule, good Monsieur.â A light scolding, yet partnered with the most comforting smile youâve ever given him, and he starts to feel his hands tremble. âYou seem surprised to see me,â you commented further, filling in the silence as he has yet to utter even a word. âDid you really think Iâd just let you ditch me like that?â
It was hard to breathe, hard to find his voice when you were so patient with him. âSorry.â Itâs all he can mutter now, this blistering swell of emotions causing a waver in his voice. âIâm so, very sorry.â
âDonât be,â you chuckled at him. His body tensed when you reached forward to grab one of his hands. But you felt cold just like the chilling rain outdoors, and now he worries you might catch a fever because of him. âIâve been meaning to ask you what was wrong, butâŠâ Your eyes drooped with a certain sorrow in their crevices, and Neuvillette found himself slightly squeezing your hands. âI couldnât seem to find a good moment alone with you.â
He shook his head at you, whispering, âI donât even know whatâs wrong, myselfâŠâ
You frowned. This atmosphere was suffocating and just from one glance upwards at your face, Neuvillette could easily tell you were holding back something to say. Granted, it was his fault. Heâs the one whoâs here, sitting and sulking in his office with little to no explanation. Heâs the one whoâs kept you worried this past week from leaving so abruptly two different times now. If anything, he might understand how to be a human even less after this ordeal.
âWould you be so kindâŠâ he starts, words like lumps in his throat, âto allow me to be honest? To let me ramble whatever nonsense Iâm feeling for just a moment, so that maybe you can make some sense of it all?â
You gave his hands a comforting squeeze. âOf course.â
Thereâs a certain phrase caught dead in his tongue. And heâs never been afraid to speak his mind before, yet suddenly, your judgment of his feelings mattered much more than the truth of his words. But he was feeling so much, and if this was really the emotional baggage humans had to carry all the time, he could only wonder how most people have yet to burst from the hauntings of their own mind.
Or more accurately soâthe hauntings of their own love.
These words were doomed to come spilling out. âYouâve bewildered me with mountains of emotions,â he rambles quicker than he thinks. âAll from the sleight of your hand, I best believe Iâve fallen in love with you.â
He forces himself to ignore how your eyes widen in that moment, or how the grip from your hands suddenly loosens from the shock that rings through his confession. He doesnât have a way with words, and he knows this. So in a hasty attempt to piece together a board of emotional exposure his mind cannot even comprehend, he does the only thing he knows how to: talk and talk, until he has no more truth to confess to you.
âBut the feelings that came alongside my love,â he began to you, âare unexplainable.â As his voice ended in coarseness, there was such an hopeless look of utter confusion you had never seen on his face before, like he was silently pleading for you to help a poor soul like his own. âThe beating of my heart when I see you⊠A stark contrast to the tightness in my stomach I feel⊠When Miss Clorinde joins us.â The ending of his sentence dropped to nearly a whisper, like he expected it to be sin. âBut what I just donât understand, is why,â the section of his brows furrow in distress, âbecause sheâs my coworker, and I do not dislike her, but I feel as if I cannot stand her when she joins usâŠâ
You listen quietly. He doesnât know whether to be thankful or fearful whilst awaiting your reaction.
He continued, âBut when she sat with us for tea, and bought you that ring, and joined us at the marketâŠâ This confession; It was arguably harder than confessing his love to you. Because Clorinde was your friendâmaybe even closer, if he was so unluckyâand he mightâve crossed a line here he didnât even know existed. âI felt like I hated her,â he finished.
You were still silent, though it wasnât like he could see your expression anyways. He refused to even look up to it, choosing instead to stare down at your joined hands.
But this silence was deafening. Please, just reject him already. He let out the most exhausted sigh he has ever before, the weight of these human emotions bearing down on him. âSo I was justâŠâ
âJust jealous,â you finished for him, and he noticed in your voice how you were almost laughing quietly to yourself. The emotion you just namedâhe didnât know how envy even felt like, much less jealousy ( though, he supposes he knows now ). âNeuvillette, you shouldâve just told me you felt uncomfortable with Clorinde there.â
âHm?â He was confused. So confused, that his eyes finally darted up to meet your own. And there you stood, most comforting of smiles on your face as your thumb began to trace patterns on the back of his hand.
You reassured him, âThose are times we spend together, dedicated to the both of our comforts.â Which was true, but he was ready to argue that he felt selfish that wayâand that you wouldnât love nor deserve a selfish man. âI trust you to tell me when you feel things are unfavorable,â you continued, âand I promise you, Clorinde would understand if I told her.â
âBut,â he piped up, so much doubt in his eyes as if struggling to believe your words, âis she not important to you?â And now, he could not comprehend the bashfulness that raised blood to his cheeks, or the complete disbelief that youâd wave off the Champion Duelist just because of his silly discomfort. Human relationships; He feared he may never understand them.
âOf course sheâs important to meâsheâs my friend!â you lightly laughed. âBut youâre important to me, as well. Please understand that.â His heart mightâve stopped for just a moment. âAnd when we have our scheduled times alone together, the last thing I want to have is you feeling uneasy when weâre supposed to be relaxing.â Your words, the kindness you shedâit was all so confusing yet so welcoming at the same time, that he feels itâs only a matter of seconds until he drowns from the sound of your voice. To feel such comfort in a person was bizarre to him, but itâs a feeling that makes him crave your presence all the same.
His eyes fell to another slight frown, voice quieter as if losing the will to argue. âBut⊠I should not have the right to impede on a relationship significant to youâŠâ
Now it was your turn to look baffled. The way he worded it. Oh, surely he didnâtâ âMonsieur, do you think Clorinde and I are a couple?â
âWell, I certainly thought you two were getting to that state in your relationship,â Neuvillette answered truthfully, voice flowing without hesitation as if it was the most obvious fact in the world. The man who just confessed his love for you only moments ago was fully convinced you felt romance for another woman. âHence why I wasâŠâ He turned his head to the side, shyly clearing his throat. âEnviousâŠâ
You practically burst out into giggles. In fact, one of your hands even let go of his grip just so you could cover your mouth to laugh. âOh⊠Oh, Neuvillette, surely you jest!â you attempted to name whilst controlling your laughter. The Iudex was shell-shocked into pure silence, wondering what he couldâve possibly said to make you react this way, because as far as he knew, he was not making a joke. âClorinde is only a friend to me,â you clarified. âNothing more.â
He remains silent, but thereâs a sweeping wave of new emotions that suddenly flood his shoulders.
âAnd if she sees me as anything more, then, well,â you continued, glancing up outside and then back down to meet his awaiting eyes. âUnfortunately for her, the love in my heart has already been captured by another.â
âBy whom?â The lack of hesitation from his immediate question has more giggles escaping your lips. He looks at you, and your face tells him itâs an obvious question with an obvious answer, and yet he still cannot comprehend this even when you squeeze both his hands in yours once more.
âWho do you think, Monsieur?â And yet even after his face flushes red, he still has a focused look of anticipation on his faceâitâs as if he absolutely will not believe it until you spell it directly to his face. âNeuvillette,â you sighed, but there was an air of gentleness in the way you say his name that relaxed his soul. âItâs always been you.â
The rain continued on.
But now the sun shined between each droplet, because if he could cry from happiness right now, he was sure youâd already be busy wiping his tears away. And this sunny rain continued on and on, even as he poured you tea, even when he bit into the pastries you bought, and even when he looked at you fondly across his desk, not a single doubt of your love.
And as for Clorinde, well, he might need a few more days to recover before he can forgive her for all the sporadic heart attacks sheâs almost given him.
#neuvillette x reader#neuvillette imagines#neuvillette x you#genshin imagines#genshin x reader#neuvillette fluff#genshin x gender neutral reader#neuvillette
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a movie i've seen before
pairing. bang chan x reader
type. angst (-y ish?)
warnings. none
word count. 2.3k
a/n. i have been working on this for quiiiite some time now and i feel so nervous to finally post it!! this will be a series of max 4 parts, i really really hope you guys will like it and if anyone is interested to be in a tag list for this pls just lemme know, hope youâll enjoy mwah xxx
big fat huge DISCLAIMER: i have nothing against idols dating and i sure hope for them that they do if they want to!!! but for the sake of this story none of the boys have had a huge dating experience. i also do know its probably very unlikely that someone working on the staff could date any of them but like... chill its just fiction :)
You remember with great detail your first day working at JYP Entertainment and the first time you met him.
It was a beautiful spring day. The sun was shining bright in the blue sky. The wind was soft and warm as it whirled around you, carrying a sweet lilac scent. You were nervous but oh so excited. A warm feeling grew in your body as you walked confidently to the big windowed building. It was your first day as a communication and social relations intern at JYP Entertainment, one of the most successful idol companies. You remember walking through the big doors, mesmerized by the environment surrounding you. You walked to the front desk, presented yourself, and politely asked for directions. The receptionist bowed and lifted a finger in the air, signaling she would be free in a short moment. You honestly did not mind waiting. It gave you more time to appreciate the fancy interior of your future place of work. Your idle admiration halted when you noticed him standing next to you.
He wore a black cap, a face mask, and a cross-body bag hung on his shoulder. He was wearing black sweats with a black cardigan.
"I'm sorry. I couldn't help but hear you are a new worker for JYP Entertainment. I'm also heading that way. I'll show you," he suggested with a polite smile.
You followed him to the elevator, to the 10th level of the building, and only stopped when you were facing a massive dark wooden door. He wished you good luck before promptly leaving. You watched him as he disappeared around the corner and tried to make sense of the interaction you just had. He was very polite and asked a few questions about your new position. His voice seemed familiar although you couldn't pinpoint its owner. The easy going conversation he provided helped you calm down and think of something else, which was very welcome in your situation. With a deep breath, you focused on the purpose of your visit and knocked.
"Y/n, you should pay for the meal since we've done such a great job at the last event!" screamed an overexcited Han, heavily supported by Changbin.
You were in a small bar with Minho, Hyunjin, Changbin, Han, Felix, Seungmin, and Jeongin. You decided to go for a celebratory night out to highlight a few successes you had collected. It had been a year since that famous day you first stepped into the JYP entertainment building. Long gone was the stress, the discomfort, and the hesitation. Ever since that first day, you became a valued member of the Stray Kids staff. Your ability to speak three languages, various degrees, and experiences in human resources and public relations secured you a place in the team. Your three-month internship quickly evolved to a six-month one until they offered you a contractual job. Today, you finally got a permanent position as the assistant manager of Stray Kids, and you felt like your heart might explode with joy.
"I'm the one who just got the job. Shouldn't you be paying for me? Plus, it will be much less expensive," you argued teasingly. Honestly, you could care less if you had to pay for that crazy bunch or even the whole bar. YOU HAD GOTTEN THE JOB!!!
"I wouldn't say that. You eat as much as all eight of us," countered Changbin with an annoyed pout. Everybody around the small table laughed at his comment, knowing he wasn't lying.
"Hey! We will pay for Y/n. She deserves it. Congratulations on the job! Please eat and drink as much as you want." Finally settled Felix with a smile.
They all cheered for you before putting various plates and drinks in your hands. You laughed until your cheeks cramped, and you felt like you would never catch your breath. The night was merry and joyful. You felt so grateful for these amazing people you now had the chance to call friends. Still, your happiness could not be complete with the missing presence of one of the members. You swallowed back your disappointment and focused on the people surrounding you.
After your meal, you all went to the dorms to continue your celebration in a more private setting. Upon your arrival, you noticed Chan still wasn't home. You couldn't help a sharp pain from piercing through your stomach. But once again, you ignored it, put on some comfortable clothes, and joined the loud boys in the common room.
"Has anyone seen Chan hyung?" asked Jeongin as he settled on the couch between Hyunjin and Han.
"I think he's still in the studio," answered Felix with a side look in your direction. You acted as if you didn't notice, even if you weren't fooling him.
The group decided to play a game of truth or dare. Faithful to Stray Kids' brand, the game was incredibly chaotic. The questions were steamy, and the dares were very challenging. For example, when Changbin was dared to lick Lee Know's foot, to both their utmost horror. The group erupted in screams when Chang Bin dramatically pulled Lee Know's sock before barely darting out his tongue on the dancer's foot. It was your turn once everybody calmed down, and Binnie washed his tongue with soap.
"Truth or dare?" asked Chang Bin.
"Truth," you responded without hesitation. "After what I've just seen, I'm way too scared to do a dare." The boys giggled as your buff friend thought about a question to ask.
"Is it true you once talked back to JYP?" He cautiously asked. You rolled your eyes at the question you should have been expecting.
"I'm not sure if I should tell the truth..." You hesitated.
"Oh! Oh! If you're not sure, it means it's true!" screamed Han with a finger pointed at you. You hid your face with embarrassment before you resigned.
"I will neither deny nor confirm this rumor. But I will say, JYP makes a funny face when he realizes he's wrong," you added mischievously. Your answer was all it took for the group to burst into chaotic excitement once more.
"Now, my turn. Hyunjin, truth or dare?" he answered the first, probably also traumatized from Bin's dare. You fidgeted with your fingers before speaking. "Between the eight of you, who would you say has the most dating experience?"
The group of boys fell silent for a second before exploding with laughter. Out of all their possible reactions you had not been expecting that one.
"What? I didn't know that was such a humorous question," you asked, surprised. Han had fallen from the couch and was silently wheezing on the floor.
"Y/n, you're talking to twenty-something boys who have been trainees and idols for most of their young adult lives. Do you think any of us has experience dating?" he answered after catching his breath. His face was still slightly red, and you weren't convinced he wouldn't start laughing again. "We did have a few experiences here and there, but nothing very serious."
You looked around, surprised. It did make sense, but Stray Kids was such a high-energy group. Without mentionning the fact that they were all so handsome, nice and charming human beings. You sincerely thought some of them had had serious partners.
"Our only partners have been STAYS," added Changbin while lifting his glass for a cheer to their loyal fans. The rest of the group nodded accordingly.
"Really? Even Chan?"
This time, your friends all looked at each other with a chuckle.
Minho glanced at you with a suspicious expression. "Why do you ask that?"
You tried to restrain the heat spreading on your cheeks from alerting them of your true intentions. "Well, he is the oldest, and Chan is so... approachable. I thought if someone might have at least a little more experience it's him," you smoothly argued.
"Well, you are wrong. Even if we barely have any, Chan's the worst of us," added Hyunjin with a look around his brothers.
Suddenly bored with the subject, the group picked up on the game again. You observed them silently, so many questions still dancing around your head. The seat next to you bent as Felix joined you with a knowing look.
"So, Bang Chan," he started with his deep voice.
"I was just asking for the game. I swear." Pink colored your cheeks, and this time, you couldn't hide it.
The member who had become one of your best friends stared at you unimpressed. He sighed, "Chan is the worst of us because he never takes time off. You are right. He's approachable, nice, and everything you want, but it never goes past a certain level." He took a moment to think before he continued, "You know how hard Chan works, right?" you nodded. Everybody knew. "And you know how he has a hard time sleeping, how stressed he is, how much pressure he puts on himself?" You nodded again, this time much more somberly. "Still, he never bothers anyone with his problems? He keeps on showing up. Chan's a very private person. He will be nice to you, but he's very guarded about what he goes through. I'm not sure why. Anyway, that is a big obstacle to surpass if you want to have a special someone in your life. Plus, I don't think he even notices people giving him that kind of attention. He's so shy about it. Sometimes, I think he forgets that there's a whole wide world apart from our idol's existence."
You silently processed all that new information. "Do you think that's also why he forgot about tonight?" you finally asked. The words had been hanging at your lips, but it hurt to admit he forgot about your special night. He had been so supportive ever since you started at the company. His absence had hurt way more than you would care to admit.
Felix let out a defeated sigh before wrapping an arm around your shoulders.
"You know him. He's been in a creative slump. Inspiration probably struck tonight, and the rest of the world ceased to exist. It's nothing against you," he squeezed your shoulder in an attempt at confort.
"I know, it just means I'm nothing special to him either," you muttered.
Felix was the only one who knew of your year-long crush on Chan. He was observant and quickly noticed how flushed you turned whenever the oldest member was around. But how could you not like him? You had once argued with Felix. He was so thoughtful and caring. His laugh had the power to brighten up your days in a second. He was always the one to try and make you giggle when you were frustrated or sad. For a whole year now, you had been watching over each other as you worked your asses off for the company. You liked and admired Chan for the whole person he was.
"You know it's more than that. Still, I understand your pain. What do you say about a bunch of brownies to fix your aching heart?" he suggested with a sweet smile.
"Did I hear brownies?" suddenly roared Changbin.
Your baking session was incredibly messy, cluttered, and fun. Han, Changbin, and Jeongin were the DJs in a corner while Felix, Seugmin, and you were on baking duty. Minho and Hyunjin were responsible for decorating the baked batch of brownies and even prepared one for you with candles.
"To celebrate your amazing promotion!" they cheered with proud smiles.
The boys gathered around while you blew the candles and once your wish was made they engulfed you in a hug until you couldn't breathe.
It was 1:00 am when Chan finally appeared. The boys were already in bed while you were cleaning up a little, unable to sleep. You lifted your head in surprise when you heard someone enter the room. Your eyes fell on a very tired-looking Bang Chan. His hair was sticking up, probably from running his hand through it too much. He was still wearing his practice sweats, and his bare face was annoyingly good-looking. He looked around the room, confused, until his gaze fell on the pieces of brownies left with a bit of "Congratulations Y/n!" frosting. Suddenly, his eyes went up two sizes.
"Oh no. Did I forget your celebratory night?"
You scrunched your face and stopped what you were doing. "Might have, but don't worry. You didn't miss much. We just went out, played games, and then decided to bake some brownies."
"Y/n, I'm so sorry." His hand went up to squeeze his head. "I got an idea for a new song and lost track of time."
You lifted your shoulders as if it meant nothing to you. Set on not letting him see you disappointed. "It's okay Chan," you whispered while keeping on cleaning.
"No, it's not. Come here." He shuffled to you with his big hands stretched out, a look of guilt on his face. You let him hug you for a second before you tried pulling back. "Let me hug you properly. Don't be stubborn," he whined.
You finally gave up and allowed his arms to properly wrap around you. A few inches taller, his head rested on yours, and you let yourself be engulfed by his warmth and the comfort it brought you until you pulled away again. These things with Chan were dangerous, especially after your conversation with Felix. You realized you couldn't allow your feelings to grow too much. Even if it wasn't directly because of you, Bang Chan did not have the space in his life for love, and you were not the person who would make him change his mind. You had to keep the damages to a minimum. He whined again as you separated from him, not quite understanding. You were usually never one to refuse a hug.
"I'm gonna go to bed." You finally stated without adding another word. Leaving was the best choice as you knew how thin your resolve grew whenever Christopher Bahng Chan was in your orbit.
He watched you leaving, not understanding why he suddenly felt so uneasy. The expression he saw on your face was foreign to him.
"You messed up on this one hyung."
He turned to look at the owner of the deep baritone voice he just heard. Felix was standing in the doorway with his arms crossed on his chest.
#ilya writes#stray kids#stray kids x reader#stray kids fluff#stray kids angst#bang chan x reader#bang chan x y/n#bang chan#lee know#changbin#hyunjin#han skz#felix skz#seungmin skz#i.n skz#stray kids fic#skz#skz x reader#skz fanfic
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i begggggggg u to do a percy x socially awk reader where percy realises she has like 3 default emotes like ârealâ âwhat the flip đšđšâ âđ€·ââïžâ or smth and like teases her abt it đđđ
â that one convo
warnings: none pairing: percy jackson x socially awkward! reader a/n: âwow this fic is very detailed with strong loathing for social interactionsâ yeah itâs because Iâm projecting đ„°
social events were the bane of your existence, the reason you woke up every morning and wish you could die. unfortunately when youâre a demigod theyâre hard to ignore, camper there, camper here, now you have camp chores⊠the list goes on. It wasnât only that you loathed social interactionsâ you were painfully awkward. stepping outside was practical social suicide for you. which is why you kept to yourself and sat at cabin three table with the only boy you would tolerate speaking to
you take a handful of his assorted berries into your hands and onto your plate, eating them one by one
âso whatâre you up to today?â asks percy
you stop and think. you hadnât planned your day out that far yet. âIâm not sure. maybe Iâll paint or read or sleep. I donât knowâ
âthat sounds great! Iâm free today too, maybe I could come with you?â
âuhhh⊠yeahâ you shrug âbut I donât want you interrupting my reading. can you stay quiet?â
âjust for youâ percy winks, maybe you scrunch your nose in disgust and return your focus to your breakfast. thatâs when your worst fear happens. a camper walks to the tableâ presumably from cabin seven because her hair flies in rays of sunshine. you stiffen and avoid eye contact
âthereâs a party in hermes cabin later, you coming?â
âIâll be there! do you wanna come to, (name)?â
you swallow hard and nod. but no you do not want to go. parties were the home place of social situations and people. tons. of. people.
âokay, great! Iâll see you two tonight thenâ the girl smiles and leaves the table (your prayers had been answered! tyche would be getting extra offerings this morning for sure)
percy furrows his brows and turns fully to you. âwhat was that?â
now you avoid eye contact with him also. âwhat was what?â
âwell, I mean you were talking to me fine and then that girl came over here and you forgot how!â
âI donât like that girlâ you lie
âyouâve never met her in your life and I know it because you only ever talk to meâ
you frown. âI donât like talking to anyone elseâŠâ
âI figuredâ
you give him a look of disapproval and hit him upside the head. âdonât be a smart-assâ
âyou know what?â he says, ignoring your comment and action
the look on your face is bored. you know what heâs about to say. yet you sigh and reply, âwhat?â
âIâm glad you only talk to me. makes me feel specialâ
you close your eyes and shake your head slowly. percy laughs and plants a kiss to your cheek happily. when you open your eyes back up you see him staring at you creepily lovingly
âI really like you (nickname)â
mood: ruined. you groan and stand up. âyouâre such a fucking weirdo, get away from meâ
you hear percy shout behind you, âhey, you shouldâve said that to that girl!â
#xoxochb#percy jackon and the olympians#pjo series#pjo fandom#percy jackson#pjo#percy series#pjo hoo toa#percy jackson x y/n#percy jackson x reader#percy jackson x you
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johnnie guilbert x reader
johnnie writing zombie about you
idea by @beansnsoup !
â· you and johnnie have known each other for almost two years now, you two hang out at least once a week, normally to do a video since everytime you two collab the video gets at least 100k more views.. but also because you guys get along so well. everytime your together you both laugh so hard there are tears and unlike jake you keep your space clean so videos don't need a whole cleaning crew to sort out the mess afterwards. either way you two have become pretty close, and when johnnie told you he was working on a new song you were so excited. you love all his music and you always try to watch every cover post he does on tiktok.
you showed up to jake and johnnies place to sleep over since you live an hour away and you are free both today and tomorrow so you might as well stay longer. you normally sleep in johnnies bed and johnnie sleeps on the couch since they don't have a spare room, you are fine sleeping on couch but johnnie insists everytime that you get his room.
the moment you came in the house something felt a little off, like as if there was an unusual energy in the air or that there's a secret between them that your not let into. you don't let it get to you since you were about to go on jake's live.
"jake no offence but why do you always make me eat the most unhealthy shit ever", you say as the live was ending. " okay y/n that's just mean, this is my diet your talking about ", " next time I'm on your live and you like faint from too much sugar ill refuse to drive you to the hospital, I'll just leave you there and take your room so johnnie doesn't have to sleep on the couch when I stay over" jake rolls his eyes. "so basically what your saying is that you want me dead so you could be roommates with johnnie instead.. I see how it is..." you shove him slightly and he screams dramatically and grabs his arm in fake pain. you laugh and the both of you say goodbye to chat.
"that was great, I think that was our best yet!" jake says cleaning up the mess he made. "I think so too! I wish johnnie could have joined though". you noticed how jake immediately got a massive smile on his face, " hey what's that smile for" you say giggling. "oh nothing" jake says winking before starting to drive you both back to the house.
a few minutes after coming back johnnie comes up to you, wanting to show you something. he leads you to his room and sits down on his bed. he starts petting the spot next to him, letting you know you can sit. as you sat he leaned behind and pulled out his guitar. "oh yay are you going to show me your new song!" you say doing a small clap. "yup! it's the one I've been talking about the past few weeks!" he says, you notice his voice is a little shakey but you figure it's normal when singing to a person alone. he cleared his throat and began singing.
Blood red sheets are my favorite
I could be your greatest weakness
'Cause she's got me so damn nervous
I'm a zombie, baby, what's my purpose?
you were enjoying the song so much you were barely taking note of the lyrics, at the end you gave him a massive hug. "johnnie that was great! I think this is my new favorite song of yours, you better be putting it on Spotify".
he blushed slightly, "I'm glad you like it! but I wana ask like.. what do you think of it". you tilt your head to the side a bit confused, "wait what do you mean?". " it's, uh, never mind don't worry" johnnie says putting his guitar away giving you a weak smile.
the energy was really weird now, the feeling you had before was 10x worse and you had no idea why.
a few hours later you said goodnight to the boys and got into bed, you had sat on your phone for a bit when the events of the day really started to sink in and you hated that there was unresolved issues, so you texted johnnie asking if he's awake. as you sent the text you saw a light flash on the bed. you check and it's johnnies phone
y/n đ§ââïž â„ïž:
heyy, i don't want to wake you just incase your asleep but if you aren't can we talk?
you laughed at the fact he put a zombie by your contact name, but as you were about to get out of bed to give him his phone it struck you. johnnies song is literally called zombie, maybe that has something to do with the emoji by your contact name. you immediately tried to recall the lyrics of his song,
I want your heart
I want your brain and that body
'Cause you got me going too insane
You can't control mĐ”
I want your heart
I want your brain and that body
'Cause you got me acting likĐ” a fucking zombie
y/n you absolute dumbass, johnnie wasn't just playing a song for you! he was singing his feelings. it all makes sense now, you know for a fact that johnnie gets really anxious when talking about his feelings and if he ever did want to ask you out he probably would be to shy to say it outright, jake probably knew and that's why the energy was so awkward today!
you immediately jump out of bed and go to the living room, you see johnnie typing something on his laptop but when he notices you he smiles closing his it, "you okay? it's pretty late" he asks as you sit down next to him. "johnnie can I ask you something?" you say biting your lip. "sure what's up".
"who was the person you wrote zombie about?" you said, ripping off the bandaid. at first he opened his mouth but then shut it again looking away, even in the dark you are noticing how he is getting flushed. "johnnie?", he didn't answer and instead put his arms under yours and held you for a soft hug, " it's you y/n, I wrote it about you" the hug lingered for awhile just like the silence in the air.
"johnnie I feel the same" you say after the hug finishes. "wait, really?", you take his hands in your own, "yes, really". he says nothing but then leans in for a soft kiss that you reciprocate, his hands gently fall onto your waist, as your kiss started turning more intense johnnie pulls away taking you off guard, "wait, before we carry on its my turn to ask a question" you make a confused face. "can I call you my girlfriend?" you let out a little laugh, "yes, yes yes yes!!" you say as you leaned in again, and this time you can feel his smile through each and every kiss.
âŁ
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YOU'RE JALEOUS | Charles Leclerc
f1 masterlist | wattpad | ao3 | instagram
charles leclerc x reader
summary: charles gets jaleous of lando when he sees him talking with his girlfriendÂ
wordcount: 1529
a/n: it's been a long time coming but i'm finally here! i've actually had this saved on my drafts for quite a long time BUT never posted it. however, since we got charles pole today, i thought you might like this even tough is a crap (i'm so sorry, you absolutely deserve better works) :)
you can send your one shots requests here or via anon! feedback, as well as comments and reblogs, are truly appreciated!
Charles and you decided to attend a party they had been invited by someone the driver didnât even know, that took place at one of the most famous venues in Monaco. Although you initially felt intimidated because none of Leclerc's colleagues had appeared yet, as you drank a few drinks, the music seemed interesting enough for you to dance along with the twinkling lights.
To say that Leclerc was happy with his performance on the track that afternoon would be a li. His pride was immense because he had finally achieved the victory: winning not only for the first time in 2024 season, but also winning his very own home race for the first time ever. This had led to great acclaim not only from his fans but also from specialists, the press, the team, and even his colleagues, who were eagerly awaiting il predestinato's return to the victories.
In those moments, with his shiny black suit highlighting his appearance and, especially, his trained body, he felt unique, and even more so with you by his side. You were matching your partner perfectly with the dazzling dress you were wearing and that fit you perfectly.
As you enjoyed a drink in a quiet corner after a long time on the dance floor, Leclerc wrapped his arm around your waist, intending to bring you closer to his side. Your eyes met, somewhat mischievous, leading to a playful smile forming on your lips.
"Charles, youâve been incredible in today's race," you exclaimed with excitement, proudly praising your boyfriend's talent. "I'm so proud of you."
Charles returned your smile, feeling filled with joy by your unconditional support.
"Thank you, darling. But what I'm proud of, and also lucky for, is having you in my life," he responded tenderly.
You continued chatting animatedly without an apparent topic of conversation, ranging from what would be your next holiday destination to the upcoming race, which would take place in Canada. However, when you started talking about a charity event that Charles would have the opportunity to lead, your gazes turned to a familiar figure approaching you: Lando Norris.
"Hey, Charles! Congratulations on that first place!" Norris exclaimed, excited to see his friend.
"Thanks, Lando!" the mentioned replied enthusiastically, patting the McLaren driver on the back. "You did great too. A sixth place is not what I expected from those cars, but it was truly impressive taking into account the strategy they had for you."
"Stop talking about McLaren when you know we can talk about Ferrari," Norris joked.
You observed the interaction between the two drivers with a mix of pride and curiosity. At first, you decide to give space to both guys, letting them freely discuss the day's events without the attentive gaze of a girl. However, when you finished checking your social media and posted a few Instagram stories with photos you took that morning, you decided to join the conversation.
"Lando, have you forgotten about me?" you teased. "I'm still in shock from today's race. It was a real spectacle."
"Thanks, Y/N!" He stopped looking at you and instead turned to his friend. "What do you think if we celebrate our incredible, but true, achievements together now? No one else is coming, and I talked to Carlos earlier!"
You looked at Charles, seeking his approval. He, a bit tipsy, nodded with a smile.
"I had other plans in mind but I think we can actually postpone them. Right, Y/N?"
With such a declaration, you three headed to the dance floor, not without first ordering something to drink to accompany you in your enjoyment full of laughter, excitement and dance moves that were surely the ones from someone whoâs had enough drinks for a day.
As you moved to the rhythm of the music, Charles noticed you stepping away from his side to join some members of the Ferrari team. He decided to follow you, ready to talk to his coworkers. To his surprise, you were chatting animatedly, in the midst of the crowd, with Lando, who had excused himself to go to the bathroom minutes before.
Jealousy and anger coursed through his body in a shiver. The Monegasque felt an urgent need to intervene and mark his territory. As much as he knew you didn't depend on him, and you were both completely independent individuals sometimes, moments like this were the ones where he felt a hint of insecurity about those who, apparently, dared, even minimally, to intrude on your relationship.
Forgetting his discretion and good judgment, Charles rushed towards you and the Brit, his eyes filled with determination and a threatening look on his face, ignoring the insults he had received from those drunkards he had punched.
"What's going on here?" he demanded to know in an authoritative and tense tone.
You and Lando turned, surprised, at Charles's intrusion. You looked at him, confused by the jealousy in your boyfriend's face. You were simply discussing with Norris the idea for a special party in Monaco the following week, just before the next Gran Prix, in honor of Charlesâ recent victory.
"Love, you're misinterpreting things," you said, trying to stay calm. "We were just talking as friends," you emphasized the last word.
Leclerc clenched his fists in an attempt to control his anger.
"I don't want you to keep talking to him," he communicated harshly, surprising you greatly.
Lando intervened, trying to alleviate the tension and, especially, to calm his friend's apparent sadness:
"Dude, you have no reason to make a scene in front of everyone over an insignificant bout of jealousy. We're just having a friendly conversation about something for next week, okay?"
Leclerc's expression became even tenser, and his eyes narrowed as he noticed the symbiosis that you, his girlfriend, and Lando, his friend and opponent, seemed to have in hiding something.
"I wouldn't want to ask you again, so... What were you talking about?" Charles inquired in an even sharper tone.
Feeling you boyfriend's murderous gaze, you tried your best not to burst into tears over something as stupid as Charles's insecurity.
"Seriously, believe us," Lando spoke, trying to calm the brunette down. "You have to trust us, we were just talking about something we came up for next week just before Canada!"
The Ferrari driver tried to control his anger, if it was still possible. Meanwhile, he took his time to look at you with, once again, a mix of anger and disappointment, mainly for not answering him.
"And you, why don't you answer me? Are you only interested in him now?"
You looked at him surprised by such a comment, and tried to explain quickly:
"I'll repeat it again, honey: we were just having a friendly conversation! Lando is my friend and your rival, friend, or whatever you want to say it, but there's nothing more to it!"
Out of nowhere, Charles gently took you by the wrist and led you to a place where you could talk quietly. The green-eyed, despite having a bit more alcohol in his system than he should, knew he messed up and needed to fix it somehow.
"Y/N, please be honest: what were you talking about?" Leclerc asked with a concerned expression on his face for the scene he had caused.
"About what we could do in Monaco, here, next week, alright?" you responded, trying to reassure him. "You don't have to worry about anything"
"But why are you talking to him about racing?" the Monegasque insisted again, trying to calm his tone of jealousy. "I don't understand why you have to make plans with other drivers when you're my girlfriend."
"Charles, come on, don't be jealous!" you scolded with a playful smile. "Besides, what we were planning was a surprise party in your honor because, in case you don't remember, you just won your first home race ever. I don't think that's anything bad."
Charles felt really stupid at that moment.
"Are you jealous, my dearest friend?" Lando decided to intervene, who had been attentive the whole time to the intimate scene between the couple.
"What? No!" Leclerc replied as calmly as possible, his attempt in vain.
"Well, it seems quite the opposite to me," Norris said. "You should relax a bit. There's nothing wrong with your girlfriend talking to other drivers, even more so when she's preparing a party for you."
Il predestinato realized Norris was right and decided to calm down.You really didn't deserve the jerk behavior he was displaying at you at the moment.
"I guess you're right, Lando," he turned to you, timidly reaching for her hands. "I'm really sorry, Y/N, I shouldn't have behaved like that."
"It's okay, Charles. I understand that sometimes jealousy can be hard to control, I feel the same way sometimes about your fans, but I manage, not like you just showed me tonight!" you answer with a smile, hitting him in his arm.
Charles felt relieved to see that you had no interest in Lando beyond friendship and planning a failed surprise party in the process. Therefore, he just enjoyed the rest of the night with you, with his friend, and without having to worry about anything else.
#formula 1#f1#charles leclerc#f1 x reader#formula 1 x reader#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#formula 1 x female reader#formula 1 x you#formula 1 x y/n#f1 x female reader#f1 x y/n#f1 x you#charles leclerc one shot#charles leclerc x y/n#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc fanfic#ferrari#charles leclerc fic#formula 1 imagine#f1 imagine#charles leclerc f1#charles leclerc x female reader#charles leclerc x you
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â â â â â â â â đą LOVE WAR kazuha nakamura x reader
âł warnings shameless!yn, this was before they were dating back when they were even bigger idiots, yn is petty and zuha is trying to convince herself she hates yn, men, idol!au, 6th member
kazuha wasnât gonna lie, she doesnât even remember how the argument with yn started but all she knew was that she needs to get over yn, she canât believe she has a crush on satan living on earth.
screw yn and her pretty face.
after that argument all kazuha can think about is how she can unwrap herself from the finger, yn just always had a way to drag her in. if there was one thing yn is good at itâs attracting people both men and women and boy does she know how to attract kazuha with her charms.
âif only she didnât have such a perfect face,â kazuha says to yunjin as she sat on floor of the older girls room, âsheâs so-ugh.â
yunjin couldnât help but laugh at the girls distress over yn, âif youâre so sick of her, try and get a new crush easy.â
âhow? who would I even talk to?â kazuha asks, getting a new crush does seem like the best way to get over yn, but itâs hard when yn makes everyoneâs standards so high.
âwhat about that one boy that asked for your number at that event you went to, the model guy pretty cute.â
he was cute, not as good looking as yn, but could do for now.
âthat could work actually,â kazuha says grabbing her phone from yunjinâs bed, âwhat do I even say? he texted me after I gave it to him but I never responded.â
âjust say hey,â yunjin shrugs, âgive him some lame excuse on why you didnât answer, heâs the one that wanted your number, he probably wonât give you a hard time about it.â
âtrue.â
âso is plan getting over yn a go?â
âitâs a go.â
she was officially unwrapping herself from yn.
has kazuha ever said screw yn and her pretty face before? probably and sheâs saying it again right now.
everything had been going great since she texted the model, his name was hajoon, he was a nice guy, he was funny and knew how to treat her right.
kazuha has been hanging out with him a lot lately, he really did help with getting her mind off of yn, not completely because it was like yn was some kind of parasite that just couldnât leave but he did help.
this was the first time kazuha ever invited him to the dorms, the rest of the girls were supposed to be out today so she thought it would be nice to invite him over to watch a movie with her.
and it was going well, so far at least.
that was until hurricane yn came.
kazuha looked around confused when she heard footsteps coming from the hallway where their rooms were.
was she hearing things?
âdid you hear that?â she asked hajoon but he only shook his head confused, âmaybe this movie is getting to you.â he jokes while kazaa just shook her head amused.
but oh she did hear something.
she felt a hand ruffle her hair.
âwhoâs this?â a teasing voice that sheâs grown used too fills the room.
kazuha looks up at yn with wide eyes as yn smiled at the two on the couch, âkazuha I never knew you talked to cute boys.â
hajoon laughed obviously flustered as yn say between him and kazuha, âwhat movie are you guys watching?â
kazuha looks at yn but only to see that yn isnât looking at her but at hajoon, she narrows her eyes at the girl but answers anyway, âa silent place, also I thought you went out with chaewon unnie?â
âI was supposed too but decided to stay home last minute, why didnât you tell me we had guests?â
kazuha opens her mouth to respond but hajoon cuts her off, âIâm hajoon nice to meet you.â
she watches as yn gently puts her hands in his and shakes it, âIâm yn nice to meet you too, are you enjoying the movie so far.â
kazuha feels something grow in her stomach as she watches hajoon look mesmerized with yn, âIâve seen it actually, I just thought it would be a cool movie to show kazuha.â
âthatâs cute,â yn says before bringing her hand up to his hair, âI like your hair, is it naturally this curly?â
âyeah, I actually had more loose curls when I was younger,â he says keeping eye contact with yn who flashes him a smile, âyou definitely need to show me photos when you have the time, since zuha will probably have you over more right?â
âhopefully,â he says laughing along with yn.
âI was actually gonna invite kazuha to the skate park with my friends, maybe you and the rest of the girls can tag along?â
âyouâre so sweet,â yn smiles, âI think I speak for all of the girls when I say of course weâll tag along.â
kazuha canât help but want to launch herself at yn and tug out her hair, who does she think she is?
âIâm actually gonna go to the convenience store, it was nice meeting you hajoon.â yn says getting up from her seat between kazuha and hajoon.
âit was nice meeting you too,â he smiled his eyes following the figure until she exits the front door.
kazuha canât help but narrow her eyes at him before composing herself when he turns back to her, âsheâs nice.â
âyeah,â she sighs.
kazuha giggles as she sits on the top of the ramp beside hajoon, she drinks out of her can of arozona and listens to him ramble about this new trick heâs trying out.
âeunchae is pretty good,â he says watching as the rest of the girls try to skate with his friends, âyunjin looks interestingâŠâ he trails off watching the girl struggle to get on the board.
kazuha laughs at his words leaning her head in his shoulder, she honestly forgot about what happened with yn and him on their movie night, she was just glad that he hasnât mentioned yn since.
but oh did she speak to soon.
kazuha feels a hand pat her head and she immediately knows who it is.
she looks at yn who taps hajoonâs shoulder waving him to get up, âcome teach me to skate.â she says smiling when he gets up from his spot next to kazuha immediately, following behind yn like a lost puppy.
is she allowed to say screw yn and her pretty face again?
she watched as hajoon giggled like a school girl at the words as he gently holds her hands, helping her step up on his skate board.
she felt a familiar feeling growing in her stomach as she watched yn and hajoon laugh with each other, ynâs hands holding onto his tightly while he says words of encouragement to her.
âwell isnât that something?â
kazuha turns her head to see yunjin sitting beside her, she brings her eyes back to yn and hajoon, âtell me about it.â she respond in a tired tone.
âyn really has him wrapped around her finger huh?â yunjin says watching as yn sits on the skateboard looking up at hajoon who still holds her hand.
âIâm so mad right now.â kazuha says trying to avert her eyes from yn and hajoon but it was like the pair was magnetic.
âare mad at yn for stealing your soon to be boyfriend or are mad at yn for stealing your soon to be boyfriend.â
kazuha scrunches her face up at yunjinâs very dumb words, but she understands what the girl is trying to say, âshut up.â she mumbles.
âso I guess we can say plan get over yn was fail.â
definitely a fail.
#shameless!yn#lesserafim x reader#lesserafim kazuha#lesserafim#kazuha x reader#kazuha nakamura x reader#kazuha nakamura#girl group imagines#kazuha#kazuha lesserafim
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M.I.A.
Summary: When Colter Shaw calls the reader for help on a job, she thinks nothing of helping out. Only he never shows up and Colter may have just become the latest disappearance in this small town. Itâs up to her and Russell to work together to find him before his case goes cold like all the others beforeâŠ
He's My Man Masterlist
Pairing: Russell Shaw x reader
Word Count: 6,500ish
Warnings: language, kidnapping, violence, torture, mentions of death
A/N: Welcome back to more Russell Shaw! This story is considered a timestamp to He's My Man and it's highly recommended that story be read prior to this one. With Tracker coming up again soon I wanted to dive back into this world with these characters and thought this would be a fun way to check in with the gang. Please enjoy!...
________
âThanks,â you said to the waitress who refilled your coffee. The diner was quiet, the mid-afternoon lull between the lunch and dinner crowd. You poked at the slice of chocolate pie in front of you and scrolled through your phone, an anxious feeling growing in your gut.
Colter had called last night, asking if youâd be willing to come out and act as his date at a gala event where he was investigating a young womanâs disappearance. Admittedly, you were a bit nervous to accept. Youâd only been doing reward work for six months and youâd had success so far with tracking down a few show dogs, a horse, a signed Mickey Mantle baseball card and a stolen car. But you hadnât dipped your toe into the truly hard stuff yet. People.
After Colter got you to put the phone on speaker, he and Russell had wore you down and convinced you this would be a good first run. It was Colterâs case, you were simply there to help and offer input.
Flirting with a rich playboy Colter suspected of kidnapping the missing woman while he searched the house was also up there on his request list.
It was only a three hour drive to the small town from home and Russell had an important meeting with a brewery investor at lunch so you decided to help him do some last minute prep in the morning before agreeing to catch up with Colter for lunch at a diner. Yet, it was a few minutes past three and youâd heard nothing from him since around midnight the night before.
âFuck it,â you said, slapping down a ten dollar bill and dialing.
âHello, hello, qark,â answered Russell, his voice cheery and bright.
âYour lunch went well Iâm assuming?â He hummed. âDonât leave me hanging. Whatâd you settle on?â
âHe gets 5% profit sharing after the first year for five years. By then he said weâd be well established and probably wouldnât need him anymore. He was a good guy, invited us to get dinner with him and his wife sometime.â
âThatâs great, honey,â you said, turning when the bell over the door rang, pouting to find it was a pair of older men that took a seat at a booth. âYou havenât heard from Colter at all, have you?â
âNoâŠhe never showed for lunch?â You sighed. âHe could have been arrested.â
âRussell,â you chided.
âHe gets arrested and Reenie bails him out all the time,â he said. âI just texted her. I bet heâs sitting in the station right now because he pissed off some local power hungryâŠshit.â
âShit what?â you asked, taking a big, stress induced bite of pie.Â
âReenie said she hasnât heard from him.â Russell groaned in the background. You closed your eyes. Today was supposed to be a good day for him. The last thing you wanted was him worrying about his little brother.
âI bet he ate some bad food, puked his guts up in the airstreamer and is sleeping it off. He said he was staying at the Sunny Days Park. Iâll go meet up with him there-â
âIâm coming out there,â said Russell. You rolled your eyes. âIf heâs so sick he canât pick up a phone then he needs help and that girl heâs looking for needs help too.â
âFine,â you said, your heart rate spiking when you stood. âHeâs probably just being his usual anti-social self, right?â
âYeah. Heâs totally known for being flaky on jobs,â deadpanned Russell. âJustâŠIâm not going to ask you to wait at the diner for me but be careful. Keep your gun on you and you call me when you get to his trailer. I have a bad feeling.â
âMe too,â you whispered. âIâll call you in ten, Russ.â
Youâd frowned when you found Colterâs truck parked in front of the airstream fifteen minutes later. Your pout remained when you cleared the the area and the inside of the trailer, carefully tucking your gun away into the holster on the back of your jeans. âHeâs not here, Russell.â
âAnything look off?â he asked through the headphones in your ears. The space at first glance didnât look out of the ordinary. Computer and maps on the kitchenette table. Coffee mug upside down on the drying rack next to the sink. You stopped short and squatted down, cocking your head.
âThere are two pairs of shoes tucked under the table. Boots and trail running shoes.â
âOkayâŠâ You stood up and sighed.Â
âRussell, I lived in this trailer for a few days and Colter is a minimalist. There are two pairs of shoes here and he only owns two pairs of shoes. So heâs walking around barefoot? Thatâs-â
âNot good,â sighed Russell. âDo you see any sign of struggle? Blood? Anything weird? Or missing?â
âNot that I can tell. I didnât exactly do an inventory of his closet whenâŠâ Your eyes zeroed in on a tiny black speck in the corner. âHe has a security camera.â
âCall Bobby, see if he can get the footage from a cloud server or something. Iâll call back in a few once Iâm on the road.â
âDrive safe, hun.âÂ
âYou be safe. Anything feels fishy, get to a public place and stay there until I get in.â
âI know. Love you.â
âLove you too.â Two minutes later you were on Colterâs computer, Bobby sending you a link to the 24 hour cloud account where Colterâs subscription was saved to once a day.
There were two feeds, one right over the door to the air streamer and the other a wide angled shot staring down the entire length of the trailer. You backed it up to midnight, watching Colter sitting right where you currently were, texting and finishing off his beer. He stretched and stood, putting the empty under the sink.
He hit off a light and you sped it up, Colter padding out once to get a glass of water during the night. You smiled when he got up around six, an unusually cuddly version of Colter appearing on screen. He had a blanket wrapped around his bare shoulders as he shuffled over to his coffee machine, getting a cup brewing.
It reminded you of Russell in the morning. He too had a habit of walking around with a blanket first thing. You wondered if that was a Shaw thing or a habit Colter picked up from his big brother when they were kids.
You watched Colter disappear into the bedroom, exiting in a black tight pullover along with fitted pants for running. He sat at the booth and tugged on his sneakers before knocking back his coffee. He glanced at his phone quickly and tucked it into his pocket before he was gone, the interior still. The video was motionless for another hour when Colter came back inside, a thin layer of sweat on his face. Sneakers were removed and socks tossed into the bedroom, Colter taking deep gulps from a bottle of water. He tucked it back in the fridge and headed for the bedroom when suddenly the airstream door opened.Â
Three men in black masks bounded inside, one holding a bulky looking gun. Colter didnât get more than a step in before cords shot out and you realized heâd been tased. Your heart caught in your throat as he fell to the floor hard, body rigid. His face was etched in pain as he slowly moved his arm but the men were on him fast. Punch to the face, hands zip tied behind his back, tape over his mouth. Colter was out cold when they threw a hood over his head and he was lifted off the ground by a man on either side of him. They quickly left, no one appearing until you found yourself on tape hours later.
âColter,â you breathed out, looking out the windows, as if heâd suddenly appear safe and sound there. Shakily you dialed Russell, your head in your hands.Â
âHey. You hear from Bobby at all?â You tried to keep your breathing calm, remember the stress management techniques youâd learned in med school.Â
You winced, Russellâs voice loud on the other end. âY/N, answer me.â
âI watched the tape. Russ, s-someone took him. They took Colter right out of the airstream this morning and-â
âWhere are you?â You lifted your head, Russell growling. âWhere?â
âIn the air-â
âLeave right now, right fucking now,â he said. You grabbed the phone, Colterâs computer and a stack of papers nearby before rushing out of there. âAre you out?â
âYes, Iâm in my car,â you said with a pant, tossing everything in your passenger seat and taking off out of the campground.
âGo back to that diner and Iâll meet you there in two hours. If anyone tries anything-â
âI know,â you sighed. âDonât speed to get here. The last thing we need is you in an accident.â
âDiner. Two hours. Be there.â
Two Hours Later
You munched on a basket of once warm fries as you heard the bell over the door jingle. You eased slightly when Russell headed your direction, wrapping you up in a big hug. âYou okay?â
âIâm fine, Russ, I swear.â You sat back in your corner booth, Russell sliding in the opposite side, getting a cup of coffee and burger for himself before you ordered dinner. âHow are you holding up?â
Russell didnât say anything, just had that look on his face he did right before he killed Owen. Honestly, you shared that sentiment. Colter had your back when you were strangers and now when you were family? Yeah, someone was going to pay and dearly.
âBobbyâs been running the video through his programs but couldnât ID any of the guys. They ditched Colterâs phone outside the airstreamer so no leads there,â you said, passing the computer over to Russell. He watched the video, his eyes twitching momentarily before he took a long, deep breath.
âCan we trace these guys phones?â You shook your head.Â
âBobby tried. No cell activity in the nearby area before or after theyâŠâ You swallowed the lump in your throat, Russell reaching across the table and taking your hand in his. âThe teamâs been trying to find who took Colter while Iâve been looking into his research on the case. I figure he found out who took the woman or got real close without realizing it and that person took him.â
âSmart girl.â Russell cracked a smile, a heavy weight quickly settling back over the table. âBut I have a problem with it.â
You nodded, keeping your lips sealed as his food was delivered and you got a plate of eggs and hashbrowns set down before you. âMe too. It doesnât make sense to take him unless they wanted to know something he knows and they figured he wouldnât crack immediately.â
âYup. Arenât you supposed to go to a party with him tonight?â You stopped with a forkful halfway to your mouth. Russell cocked his head. âHe got an invite to that party. For two people. They must think he has a partner and that the partner knows everything Colter does.â
You set your fork down, Russell forcing a smile. âTheyâre looking for me. Those people are probably hurting him-â
âHey,â said Russell, voice quiet. Gentle. âThey took him because he found out something these people donât want him to know and he didnât realize it, not because of you. Letâs figure out what that is and then weâll come up with a game plan.â
âOkay. Letâs figure this out.â
Forty minutes later, two clean plates and Russell making more than one odd face at the computer screen did it hit you. You slid Colterâs notebook with the name of the party over, Russellâs eyebrow quirking. âWhat?â
âThese people donât know who I am, otherwise Iâd be gone. Colter wanted me to go to this party with him, right? Well, letâs go to the party.â Russell leaned back, closing his eyes. âIsnât the most likely scenario that the person that took this girl also took Colter? And they clearly are powerful enough to have a few guys working for them. Letâs go to the party full of rich people and see what we can sus out.â
âY/N.â Russell sighed, rubbing his temple with his palm. âItâs way too dangerous. Just because someone hasnât come after you doesnât mean they wonât. We need to figure out what Colter stumbled on-â
âThis party,â you said, holding up the notebook, slapping it down. Russell clenched his jaw, relaxing after a beat. âThe only research Colter did was on this girl and then thereâs the party invite. He wanted to go there for a reason.â
âAlright, alright,â he said, picking it up, flipping through the pages. âHowâd he get the invitation in the first place?â
âItâs a charity fundraiser. Anyone in town can go as far as I can tell,â you said. âAll I know is he wanted me to be a distraction.â
âDistractionâŠâ Russell typed on Colterâs computer, biting his bottom lip. âPartyâs at some older rich dudeâs house. Francis Duvel. Sounds like a real upstanding community member.â
âThatâs not surprising the wealthy guy is hosting a charity event.â Russellâs eye twitched before he spun around the screen. Your eyes flickered down, reading a headline.
Duvel Industries Once Again Cleared of Safety Allegations; Whistleblower Drops Suit as CEO Vows Quality & Integrity Valued Over Profits
âI couldnât figure it out earlier but thereâs been a pattern of people going missing every so often in this town. Men. Women. Old. Young. Never kids or teens. Always adults. Your missing girl, Alexis Pearson works at-â
âDuvel Industries,â you said, flipping through a paper. âExecutive assistant. You think-â
âPoor girl probably found out they were cutting corners somewhere and she said something to the wrong person.â He handed you back the computer and sure enough, all of the people that had âleftâ town or simply gone missing had at one point or another worked for Duvel Industries.
âHow did no one figure this out before? Itâs obvious whatâs going on,â you said, Russell looking around. âWait. You thinkâŠâ
âArticle said the local cops found no issues and never have. This charity auction is for the community including-â
âFuck,â you muttered. âHeâs got the sheriff in his pocket, likely a few more cops. No wonder Colter couldnât just turn over what he found. He couldnât trust them.â
âHe should have called me,â said Russell, closing the computer. He shook his head, staring out at the cloudy evening sky. âI have a friend in the bureau. I could haveâŠâ
âSo letâs call your friend, get the FBI up here to take a look at Duvel and in the meantime, try to find Colter and Alexis.â For the first time he looked worried and it made your heart clench. âWhat is it?â
âAlexis is probably already dead and when FBI agents show up at Duvelâs front door, heâs going to kill Colt and the girl if they arenât already. Y/N, we have to find him tonight.âÂ
âOkay,â you said, getting up and pulling him into your side of the booth, wrapping an arm around his waist. âScrew the party. That was Colterâs plan. Ours needs to be more direct.â
âWhatâd you have in mind?â
âDuvel isnât stupid enough to keep him or Alexis at a place where heâs having the whole town come to, right? So where would you hide them as a CEO?â He smiled, kissing your cheek before pulling out his phone.Â
âBobby, itâs Russell. I need the address of every property owned by Duvel Industries asap.â
One Hour Later
âHow do you know itâs this one?â you asked Russell as you got out of his car. He went to the trunk, resting his head against the open thing. âWhatâs wrong?â
âI know because this place is isolated, itâs been under construction for years with no progress but the tire tracks we saw were fresh. Itâs Duvelâs dumping ground.â He straightened up, hands on his hips. âQark.â
He didnât have to say it. He wanted you to stay here, out of danger. Heâd wanted you away from this kind of life and said it more than once.
Russell reached inside the trunk and opened a black duffel, holding out a black vest to you. It was much smaller than the one he and Colter fit in though. You took the vest, followed by Russell handing you a thigh holster. âI thought you were going to tell me to stay in the car.â
âDonât get me wrong, I want you to stay here,â he said, bending down to buckle the straps against your thigh, pulling it taut. He looked up with a half-smile before taking your gun from the back holster and putting it inside, tossing the other one in the trunk.Â
âWhat areâŠâ He zipped up your jacket all the way and pulled the vest on over your shoulders, fixing your hood before tightening the sides so the vest hung tight to your body. âRussell.â
He shrugged, green eyes nervous but gentle. âYou have let me teach you self-defense, how to reload and shoot, tactics and stealth so youâd be safe doing reward work. Youâve done it all without complaint. I want you to stay at the car but I know my queen of darkness. You can do this. You told me once before you wanted me to show you how to do things, not do them for you. So letâs go do this together.â
You smiled, running your hand over the vest. âHow long have you had this?â
âI bought it the first reward job you took. I figured someday youâd need it.â He put on his own gear and locked the car, inhaling deeply. âIf you want to change your mind-â
âThat building is massive. You canât go in alone.â He nodded, closing his eyes. âAm I liability to you? Serious question. If I go in there with you, does it make things harder if Colter is in there?â
Russell peeled open his eyes, smirking as he planted both hands on your face and kissed you hard.Â
âI always worry, qark. Whether youâre in there or out there.â He touched his forehead to yours, hot breath fanning over you. âYou do not have to go in. Absolutely you do not have to. But if my girl wants to do this with me, then Iâm glad Iâve got her for a partner.â
âThank you,â you whispered, Russell lifting you up into a hug.Â
âBut if shit goes down, you run.â You shrugged, Russell groaning. âAlright, alright, Rambo. Follow my lead and stick close. Bobbyâs going to contact my friend in two hours if he doesn't hear from us so letâs get a move on.â
âAge before beauty,â you said. He narrowed his eyes.Â
âYeah, keep it up younginâ and next time youâre in that outfit Iâll teach you a lesson.â You glanced down to his groin, Russell growling. âY/N.â
âSorry.â He nodded, checking his gun before letting in hang by his side.
âStay low and quiet. Clear your corners and donât hesitate to use your weapon. You sure you want to go in?â
âLetâs do this.â Russell checked your gear one more time before you headed into the forest, jogging through it for a moment. You stopped at the edge when Russell held up a hand. He reached into his back pocket, revealing a small scope. You knelt by his side, looking around as he mumbled to himself.
âGood news and bad news. Good news is thereâs only one vehicle and itâs a car which means most likely thereâs four guys or less. Could be more but odds arenât in favor. No cameras from what I can tell. Bad news is two outside guards. Itâs going to be hard to get in.â You pursed your lips. âWhat are you thinking?â
âIf we each get one-âÂ
âY/N,â Russell scolded. You frowned, his face softening. âThose guys are huge. Odds are they grab you before you get the guy out cold.â
âRussell. I fought off Owen when I was roofied when I was younger. You have taught me so many moves. I wouldnât risk Colter if I didnât know that I can take out a guy that size. Trust me. Please.â He lowered his head, shoulders sagging.
âIf heâs not going down, shoot him.â You agreed and then the two of you were jogging across the dark grass, coming to a stop against the concrete wall of the building. Russell pointed you forward and you went ahead of him, gun in front of you, squeezing the cold metal tight.
The guard rounded the corner quickly though, startled by the sight of you. You ducked fast, Russellâs fist flying out where your head had been. It connected hard with the guardâs jaw and he slumped against the wall, crumpling down in a heap. You stood up, Russell tapping your shoulder before stepping in front of you. After a moment the guard was restrained, tape over his mouth. Russell peaked around the corner before holding up a hand for you to stay back before he disappeared.Â
Ten seconds later he returned, body slightly less tense. He nodded and you jogged over to him, keeping behind him as you went through the door and past the other out cold guard with hands and feet secured.
The building was large, some warehouse space, offices on either side. Russell sighed silently before going left. You walked backwards behind him for a few minutes as he cleared room after room after room with nothing to show.
âItâs taking too long,â he whispered. âI canât check every room fast enough if the guards check in on a schedule.â
âI can finish the hall. Do the other side. Youâre faster without me,â you murmured. Russell stared at you for five seconds then planted a kiss on your forehead.
âBe safe. Iâll be right back.â Silently, he went the way youâd came from and disappeared around the corner. You turned your attention back on the six or so offices to go with a thick swallow. Without Russell by your side, your nerves came front and center. But you couldnât stand there forever. There was probably someone else inside and Colter wouldnât hesitate if you were in his shoes.
You steadied yourself and cleared a dark, empty office, then another. The second to last door pushed open easily, bright light hitting you in the face.Â
There was barely enough time to register Colter in a chair, someone behind him with a knife and then the manâs hand was moving fast towards his throat.
The trigger pulled hard as you squeezed it once, twice, three times. You couldnât hear over the ringing in your ears as you did wide sweeps of the room. No one else was in there and after finding the man slumped on the ground was dead, you rushed to Colter whoâs head hung low.
âColter. Colter,â you urged. He was shaking as you tilted his chin up, a thin line of red on his throat but not deep. You closed your eyes. Fuck, a second later and Colter would have already bled out by now.Â
But something wasnât right. His clothes were wet, skin ice cold. Your eyes darted upwards when you felt cold air conditioning kick on overhead. It was only then that you noticed the dead man was wearing a winter jacket for some reason.
You checked Colter over after cutting him free, a few bruises on the face, bruised ribs from his labored breathing and you winced when you patted his shin and felt how swollen it was. You cut up his pants leg and saw the deep bruising, very highly a broken bone in there.
Another gun shot rang out nearby and you spun around with your gun, aiming at the door. Russell appeared a few moments later, sighing in relief. But his face fell when he saw Colter violently shaking in the chair, arms wrapped tight around himself.
âWhatâs-â
âHeâs hypothermic,â you said, cutting up his pants, Colter shaking his head. âWe need to get him out of these wet clothes and warmed up now.â
âY/N-â
âRussell, heâs not stable.â You finished cutting off his pants and had his pullover halfway off. âCall your FBI friend and tell him we need a med evac to a level 1 trauma center. In the meantime, go kill the A/C and get my med kit from the car.â
âGot it,â he said, turning to leave. âI found Alexis.â
You looked over your shoulder at him, Russell smiling. âSheâs roughed up but she convinced these guys-â
âIâm sorry but does she need medical attention, yes or no?â He shook his head. âThen go do as I ask.â
Russell took off down the hall, Colterâs wet clothes dropping to the ground. You got behind him and put your arms under him and around his chest, hoisting him up.
He screamed at the sudden pain in his side and leg but you could deal with that later. Right now, he was too fucking cold. You walked backwards out of the room, Colter whining the whole time which frankly scared the fuck out of you.
Colter was stoic. Tough as nails like Russell. Calm in moments of terror.
Scared, hurt, out of control Colter made you heart feel like it was being stabbed.
âSâokay, Colt. I got you. Youâll feel better real soon,â you said, dragged him down the hall and into an office youâd found a couch in earlier. You jerked when you noticed a shadow at the doorway.
Alexis was hiding halfway behind the doorframe, wide eyed at you. âI-I can help.â
âYou know what a space heater is?â She nodded quickly. âFind them and bring them back here. Quickly. I saw a few in this hallway.â
She ducked away as you lowered Colter to the ground and plugged in the space heater youâd saw in there, turning it to the max.Â
You found a wooden chair and kicked at it with your boot until it broke apart. Taking two long pieces, you placed them on either side of Colterâs leg and removed your vest, jacket and shirt.Â
âAnd you said my red jacket was ugly,â you teased, laying it over his shivering form. âToo visible if I recall.â
His fingers squeezed the material so tight it started to tear, your heart breaking for him. You leaned down close, wiping the wetness out of his hair with your shirt. With a sigh you kissed his forehead, Colter mumbling something you couldnât make out.
âI know you know youâre in shock. Everything is fine. All I want you to think about right now is a story Iâm going to tell you. Okay? Just lay back and listen.â You soaked up more water with your shirt and leaned back, removing your tank top, leaving you in just a black bra. âYou know Russell bought me this bra back when we went on that trip to Paris last month. I know we told you about it and you did a lot of humming like you couldnât care less, remember?â
You shredded the tank top with your hands into strips, laying them over and under his broken leg. âIâm going to splint your leg now.â
âSo there was I,â you said, pulling tight, Colter nearly doubling over as you did the few other spots quickly. âIn Paris with your brother of all people and heâs bought me all these nice pajamas and lounge sets and other things you donât need to know about when he says, letâs take a few days trip to Africa. Letâs go to the desert. Now, I donât know about you but if youâve never been to the desert, itâs hot as fuck.â
You made sure his leg was straight before fixing your coat on him, Colter shivering into your hand. Alexis returned with three space heaters and you quickly go them on and around him.
âWhen youâre in the desert, you can feel the sun prickle your skin. You know that feeling? The heat from the rays literally warming you, getting inside. It makes you so hot. It reflects off the sand, like hot sand at a beach, right back at you. Itâs like youâre on a baking sheet, hot out of the oven, baked on all sides.â
Colter was still shivering but he was starting to relax, less violent shakes coming out now.Â
âYou ever have a sunburn like that? I bet you did. Your nose and cheeks got all red, your skin so hot. I know you Shaw boys were always outside. Russell gets these freckles when heâs out in the sun. Do you get them too? A nice hot summer day, out on the water with a warm breeze.â
Russell entered the room, kneeling beside you. âChopper will be here in thirty.â
âOkay,â you said, Colterâs head turning to the side. âRest up for me big guy.â
You got up and pulled Russell to the back corner, nodding at Alexis sitting on the couch. âWhat?â
âRussell, you should take her to the nearest hospital.â He frowned, biting his tongue though as you held up your hands. âSheâs not as bad as your brother but sheâs dehydrated and cold.â
âNo, I need to stay here in case Duvelâs guys show up. You take her-â
âIâm sorry, are you a doctor? Do you know what to do if Colter has a heart attack? A seizure? Those are very real possibilities right now, Russell. I need to warm him up and calm him down the right way and I canât worry about her right now. I need you to take care of her. Please.â
He closed his eyes. âFine but Iâm tossing those two guys in the trunk of their car. And put your vest back on. And keep an eye on the door-â
âShaw.â He opened his eyes, finding you glaring at him.Â
âPlease help him the best you can,â he whispered. You hugged him, Russell squeezing you tight before he was moving and out the door with Alexis under his arm. Only the hum of the space heaters and Colterâs incoherent mumblings could be heard as you sat down beside him.Â
âHere you go,â you said, resting the vest over his injured leg to try and give him some warmth. You held your gun in your hand as the other rested on his forehead. Fuck, he was still too cold. Slowly, he peeled open his eyes, looking so young for the briefest of moments. âI have one last idea. But itâll hurt.â
He nodded very slowly before closing his eyes tight. âIâll be right back.â
You jogged out to the warehouse and hit the switch to open the bay door, quickly breaking into the luxury car out front and pulling it in. You left it on and hit the heated seats to low, rushing back to Colter where he was breathing shallowly. âCome on, bud. This should help.â
He groaned when you pulled him through the halls and out to the warehouse, cursing a long string of profanities at you that felt like the closest Colter Shaw had ever gotten to going absolute ape shit.
The ache in your chest eased when he hissed at the contact with the seats and then, you swore on your life, he cooed like a newborn baby. With the heat blasting in the car and thanks to the seats warming his bare skin, he finally passed out with a smidge more color to his skin.
âOkay,â you sighed, resting your head against the wheel. âYouâre going to be okay.â
The Next Evening
âHey,â said Russell. You didnât acknowledge him as you watched flames flicker in the outdoor fireplace back at home. He sat down on the couch behind you, pulling you back into his lap. âCanât sleep?â
âNo,â you said, leaning your head back against his shoulder. You tucked yourself into him, Russell wrapping his arms around your body. âHowâs Colter? He sleeping yet?â
âOh, heâs annoying as hell. Little shit thinks heâll be driving out of here tomorrow morning.â
You groaned, Russell humming. âHe broke his damn leg. He isnât driving for at least a month. He is staying with us at a minimum until that cast is off.â
âIâm not the one you have to argue with.â You sighed, Russellâs long legs shifting around to lay over top of yours. âYou want to talk about it?â
Your eyes welled up, Russell sensing your tension. Your eyelids squeezed tight, something heavy boiling up under your skin.
âWhatâs the hardest thing? Killing someone? Or almost losing Colter?â he asked quietly. You shrugged, turning your head down to your lap. âHe hurt-â
âMy little brother died of hypothermia.â Russell went rigid behind you, turning you in his lap so youâd face him. Your bottom lip wobbled as he pulled you in close, his hands on your back. âThe car accidentâŠit was winter. My mom died on impact but we went down a ravine. My dad went to get help for me and my brother but it was so cold and we had no heat and Charlie was so hurtâŠthe last thing he ever said was how cold he was.â
You looked over Russellâs shoulder at the dark lake, save for a few homes with lights on across the water.
âI donât care that I killed that son of a bitch after what he did to Colt. But I justâŠâ You inhaled shakily, gripping Russellâs hoodie tighter. He shushed you, rubbing his hand up and down your back.Â
âHeâs home with us. Heâs safe,â said Russell softly. Long fingers stroked through your hair, tucking you into his neck. âI think Charlie would be really proud of you for protecting Colter like you did.â
âI should have protected him too,â you mumbled. Russell sighed, quietly embracing you. âYouâre an older sibling. You understand.â
âBullshit.â You leaned back fast, glaring at his stern green eyes. âYour dad was an amazing doctor and he left two injured kids. He was either a moron which I doubt or your brother had internal bleeding which made him say he was cold. If it was hypothermia you would have died too.â
âNo, my dad said-â
âWas this before or after Owenâs fucked up mob family started drugging your dad so he had psychosis?â Your voice caught in your throat. Russell raised his eyebrows. âSweetie, do you even know why Charlie died?â
âIt was hypoâŠâ You unraveled yourself from him, planting your bare feet on the warm deck. You gripped the couch cushions, closing your eyes, medical facts bouncing around your head. âJesus, Russ. Why did I thinkâŠâ
âBecause your dad said it. He probably never even remembered he did. Deep down, he didnât blame you so you shouldnât blame yourself.â
You stood up, stepping in front of the fire with your arms crossed. You titled your head back, inhaling deeply. âHe said a lot of mean things when I was a teenager, as I got older. But at the funeralâŠhe was still himself. He didnâtâŠâ
âNo, he didnât.â Russell stood behind you, curling his arms around your chest, trapping you against his strong warm frame. âSo back to my original statement. Charlie, hell your parents too, I know theyâre proud of you.â
âI killed a guy,â you scoffed.
âYou saved a woman, helped catch a murderer, expose corruption throughout a small town, bring closure to a dozen families with missing loved ones-â
âRussell,â you groaned.
âAnd you saved my little brotherâs life all while risking your own. We are damn proud of you, my queen of darkness.â Your head tilted backwards to look at him, Russell grinning back. âNo objection?â
âFine. You wore me down. I did good,â you grumbled. He chuckled against your ear, giving you a tight hug.
âThe words every man loves to hear from his girl,â he laughed, giving you space to turn and hug him back. âYou want to try sleeping?â
âIn a minute. I want to check on him quick.â
âDonât be long,â he whispered. He pressed his lips to your forehead, letting them linger. You gave him a hum and slipped inside, walking down the hall to the guest room. You cracked open the door slowly, Colter laying in bed with a frown.
âNeed some pain killers?â you whispered as you entered, shutting the door behind you.Â
âNo,â he grumbled, glancing up at you when you took two pills out of the bottle on the nightstand. âI overheard you and Russell.â
You sat on the edge of the bed, Colter grabbing your arm. He tried to sit up, relenting when you pushed on his shoulder. âRest. I know thatâs a foreign word to you but you have to take things slow if you want to recover correctly.â
âAnd you need to realize this job is dangerous and I am not your responsibility.â
âNo, youâre not.â You ruffled his messy hair gently, Colter pouting. âBut thatâs what family does for each other.â
He wanted to retort but bit his tongue, grumbling as you fixed his blankets and made him take a painkiller.Â
âWhy didnât you tell me you and Russell got engaged?â You glanced down at your hand and the shiny silver band on your finger.Â
âWhen did you notice?â
âWhen you shot that guy. It helped to think of something else for a bit.â You nodded, playing with the ring. âWhenâd he ask?â
âAbout a week ago. We wanted to surprise you and Dory.â His hand fell down to yours, giving it a light squeeze. âColter, I know you have your issues with your brother but we love you. I know youâre going to hate it but you need to stay here for awhile. At the very least you need to stay with Dory if not us. You canât be alone right now.â
âI will try to not complain too much,â he said. You smiled, leaning down to hug him. âThank you for finding me.â
âLetâs not make a habit of it is all,â you said, getting up and pushing his glass of water closer. âNeed anything else?â
âIâm good.â You went to the door, Colter clearing his throat. âY/N?â
âYeah?â
âThat red jacket is still fucking obnoxious.â You flipped him off, Colter cracking a smile.Â
âGoodnight, asshole.â You turned off his light for him and found Russell curled up in the blankets in bed.
âHowâs the patient?â he mumbled, big spooning you as soon as you were tucked under the covers.Â
âHeâs going to be alright.âÂ
âDid you ask him about being in the wedding yet?â
âOne step at a time, hun.â He chuckled, burying his face against the back of your neck.Â
âTry to get some rest too, qark.â You closed your eyes, nodding once. âLove you.â
âLove you too, Russ.â
___________
#Tracker#Russell Shaw#Colter Shaw#Russell Shaw x reader#Russell Shaw x female!reader#Russell Shaw x you#Russell Shaw Fanfiction#Tracker Fanfiction#Tracker Fanfic#Tracker cbs#Jensen Ackles#justin hartley#He's My Man#He's My Man spinoff
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Off Limits
Pairing: Fem!Reader x Bonten!Ran Haitani
Summary: Your older brother, Mikey, forbids any of his subordinates from putting their hands on you. Naturally, Ran takes that as a challenge.
Word Count: 5.2k
Warnings: Alcohol mentioned, drugging mentioned (reader not drugged), oral (fem! receiving), fingering, raw sex, cream pie, Mikey is an over protective brother, guns, pet names like angel, sugar, pretty girl, etc I think that's it? kind of an abrupt ending bc I'm silly like that
It was a boring day for Ran Haitani. Well, if you consider hunting rival gang members down and beating information out of them dull like Ran does. As much as he loves his job, the thrill of seeing another man's fear, feeling his fist connect with deadly precision, sometimes it was a bit monotonous. All work and no play makes Ran Haitani a dull boy and such.
He thought he'd fix this with a trip to Bonten's strip - no gentlemen's club. He could hear Koko yelling at him in his head for, 'lessening the value of their asset' by not using some euphemism. Ran didn't think it mattered much. Men just wanted to see women take their clothes off; they didn't care what it was called.
Usually going to the gentlemen's club made him feel better, but even this was feeling dull to him today. He's already fucked all the girls he had an interest in. Some of them multiple times. And they were great, sure, but he nothing that could spark his interest now. He needed fresh blood, so to speak.
Then you walked in. Ran had been idly drumming his fingers along the dark mahogany of the bar top, half listening to Rindou and Sanzu drone on about the days' events. His fingers halted the moment he saw you, straightening up and zeroing in. He'd never seen you before, he would have remember that face... that body. Were you a new hire? He wondered... No it couldn't be. The execs ran background checks on all the women in the club, which fell to Ran or his brother to do. No way you slipped through the cracks.
A prickle of anger flared through him as he wondered if you were dating one of the execs. He couldn't image one of the guys dating a woman like you and not bragging about it though. Maybe a patron's girl? You seemed to be looking for someone. Ran smiled. He could be a helpful guy, take you to your boyfriend... and then put a hit out on him. He didn't play fair, but he always played for keeps.
"Shit, who's that?" Rindou piped up behind him. Ran stifled a wave of possessiveness rushing through him. If he made it too obvious how bad he wanted you, this would become a contest he didn't want. At least Rindou's response to you confirmed that he didn't know you, so you couldn't be a dancer.
"Dunno," Ran shrugged, "But looks like she could use some help."
Sanzu rolled his eyes. "Since when do you care about helping random women."
Ran knocked back the rest of the whisky in his glass. "What can I say, I am a feminist." Sanzu and Rindou groaned at him, but his back was already to them making a beeline towards you. The closer he got, the more he was taken by you. You were so beautiful, but you also looked more nervous that he originally appraised. Maybe you were truly just lost. Wrong place, right time - for Ran at least.
"Hi," Ran said, mustering all the calmness in his voice he could manage. You looked him up and down, your pulse quickening - and not because you were nervous. The man standing before you was one of the finest you'd ever laid eyes on. But you couldn't let that distract you from your purpose here. "Haven't seen you around here before, are you lost?"
You shook your head. "No, I'm... looking for someone." You were vague, not sure of who this man was and not willing to trust anyone but who you were looking for.
"Oh? Well I'm one of the owners here," Ran replied casually, though he was dying to know who you were here for. "Maybe I could help you out?" His words sparked recognition in you, he could see it in how your eyes widened.
He's an owner? That mean he must know... "My brother, I'm looking for my brother." You felt the tiniest rush of relief that you bumped into someone who could truly help you.
Brother. Ran couldn't help but smile. This was the best case scenario; there was not issue of competition there. "And who's that, sweetheart?"
"Mikey."
"Mikey?" But it wasn't his own voice that verbalized his surprised. He whipped around, irritated to find Sanzu and Rindou followed him. Sanzu was shocked by the mention of the boss's name. Ran couldn't deny he was surprised too; he had no idea Mikey had a sister.
"Since when did Mikey have a sister?" Rindou questioned.
Sanzu scowled. "I knew it," he snapped, "But I didn't know it was her." Of course Sanzu, Mikey's little dog, would be privy to that information. But even he had never laid eye on you before, he simply was just aware a sister existed. "You're not supposed to be here," his comment pointed right at you.
"I know, I know," you replied quickly. Mikey was very clear to you that you were supposed to stay far away from his... line of business. "But it's an emergency. These guys came to my job and I- they were looking for me." You shivered at the memory of your close call.
Sanzu's eyes widened. Ran could practically hear the gears turning in his head: how was he going to use this as an opportunity to further win Mikey's favor? Ran rolled his eyes, as if Sanzu needed to do any more ass kissing.
"Did anyone follow you here?" Sanzu demanded.
"No - I don't think so," you replied. "Please can't I just talk to Mikey?"
"C'mon Sanzu, you're scaring the poor girl," Ran interjected. If Sanzu could use the situation to his benefit, so could he. "Even if someone did follow her, we'll handle it. Let's just get her to Mikey." He gave you an assuring smile that caused a blush to rise in your cheeks. Ran didn't miss it, of course, savoring the soft little smile you returned to him.
Sanzu didn't argue, telling you to follow him instead. He led the way, weaving through the tables where patrons sat. Ran and Rindou took up the rear behind you, following to Mikey's private room at the club. Ran gave a particularly nasty look to one man who stared at you a beat too long.
"Did you know Mikey had a sister?" Rindou whispered to Ran.
"No."
"Interesting."
Ran smiled, this was exactly the type of fun he needed. "Very."
Sanzu opened the door to Mikey's office. He was sitting alone at his desk, a whiskey in his hands as he looked through a pile of papers. His eye flicked up, annoyed at the intrusion until he saw you. He jumped out of his seat. "Y/n, what are you doing here?" he was half between anger and concern.
You rushed past Sanzu to your brother. Ran leaned against the closed door, eager to see how this played out. "I'm so sorry Mikey I- I know I'm not supposed to be here," the words tumbled out of you. "But there were men looking for me. I got scared."
Mikey's eyes darkened. "Tell me exactly what happened."
You sat down, realizing how badly you were shaking. You'd come here on pure adrenaline and now it was wearing off. You explained to Mikey how you had been in the back of the bakery where you work, when you heard a gruff voice asking for you. Well, it was really more like demanding. At first you had been afraid you fucked up someones order, but when you caught a peak at the 2 men looking for you you knew instantly they were not looking costumers.
Thankfully, they hadn't seen you and your coworker had the good sense to insist you were not working today. It took some convincing, but they finally left. You lied to your coworker and said you had a crazy ex. But really, you knew the symbol on their jackets was one your brother warned you of. A rival gang. And somehow, despite Mikey's best efforts to keep you far away from his lifestyle, they found you.
"You swear you weren't hurt?" Mikey questioned, softening now that he understood why you were here.
"I'm okay I promise, just a little shaken up," you replied, "I don't know what I'm gonna do about work."
"You're going to quit," Mikey state, shooting you a look when you balked. "I should have known something like this would happen. You got really fucking lucky today, y/n. If they had gotten to you... I don't even want to think about it. You have to stay close to me. Under my protection, there is no other way."
"But my coworkers could be in danger," you replied, sad at the thought of never getting talk shit about rude costumers while kneading dough again.
"I'll have my guys watch the shop for a few weeks to make sure it's safe. And tell me the name of the girl who had your back. I'll make sure she gets compensated," Mikey replied. Before you could protest, Mikey returned his attention to the men behind you. "Sanzu, get everyone to the meeting room. We need to discuss this immediately."
Sanzu slipped out obediently. Mikey eyed the two remaining men suspiciously, particularly the taller one. "And who do I have to thank for finding her?"
The taller one, Ran you believed his name was, smiled. "That would be me boss."
Mikey's jaw tightened. "Of course." He didn't express gratitude as you expected, but Mikey was not the most warm and fuzzy person. "You two can go wait in the meeting room. I'll be there shortly." They both nodded and slipped out wordlessly. You noticed, though, Ran eyes scan you one last time, which made your heart stutter in your chest.
Mikey instructed you to stay in his office while he went into the next room to have a meeting with his executives. "Don't worry, the club is guarded by my men, you're safe here. I'm gonna make sure everything works out, okay y/n?"
You nodded. You trusted your brother completely. Mikey squeezed your arm in attempt to be comforting before exiting the room. He took a deep breath, preparing himself for the headache that was dealing with subordinates.
Despite the short amount of time lapsed, all his executives were there waiting. At least they knew their place, he thought. Dogs who come when called. The room was much more cramped than their board room back at HQ, but it worked for when they needed it. Mikey took his spot at the head of the table.
"Most of you don't know this, but I have a sister," Mikey began, his eye shifting around the room. All the men, besides those you had already met, looked surprised and confused. Sanzu was the only person who knew of your existence prior to this. Being he was Bonten's number 2, he had to ensure someone would look after you should anything happen to him.
"I've kept her secret from everyone because I didn't want her to be in danger. But somehow our rivals have found out about her," Mikey stopped, swallowing his anger as the weight of the situation hit him. "We are going to find the men looking for her and we are going to fucking kill them. All of them. Destroy their gang one member at a time if we have to."
The men nodded along, Sanzu particularly eagerly. He always excited at the thought of bloodshed.
"You're all to guard her with your life," Mikey continued, "I'll be working on a schedule for everyone to take turns keeping an eye on her while the rest of us continue work as usual."
"What if you bring her to work?" Koko asked. Mikey's brow furrowed, but he continued. "Our headquarters is secret and there always a bunch of us around. That's gotta be safer than just one of us at an apartment. And then you don't have to worry about shifts."
Leave it to Koko to find a way to be more efficient. Mikey debated it. On one hand he had a good point; it was probably safer to have you surrounded by more people. And then Mikey would alway be around at work and when you went home. Because he was definitely making you move in with him, at least until he was sure there weren't any active threats against you. But at HQ you'd in the middle of his business and he wasn't sure how he felt about that. Plus there were other concerns he had...
"I think that's a good idea," Ran piped up.
"I agree," Takeomi said, cigarette hanging from his mouth.
Of course they like the idea. Mikey wasn't an idiot, he knew you were a pretty girl. He's seen the way men look at you and being a man himself, he knows what those looks mean. It makes him sick to his stomach. It's not that he is some control freak that would say you're not allowed to date anyone, but he has high standards when it comes to who should be allowed to date you. And this lot of men don't even come close. They were great employees, cunning and devious, but he wouldn't want their hands on you. Having you around would be like throwing blood in shark infested waters.
Still, he couldn't deny it HQ would be the safest place for you to be. Mikey sighed. "Alright, you're right Koko," he replied, acknowledging only his white haired subordinate. Had it been anyone else who suggested it he may have said no, but Mikey trusted Koko not to have ulterior motives. He wasn't so obsessed with getting women in his bed like the others. "But there will be rules. Her safety is the number one priority. I'll expect you all to take a bullet for her if needed."
No one objected. Signing on to Bonten meant being willing to take a bullet for Mikey. What was one more person?
"And no one fucking touches her," Mikey stated, looking every single one of them in the eyes so they'd recognize the weight of his words. "If you do, I'll put a bullet in you."
Ran's lips twitched ever so slightly. He couldn't say he was surprised, but he was still amused. He was a man who loved a challenged and Mikey just made this all the more fun for him.
***
Moving in and working with Mikey was not as bad as you thought it would be. Mikey's "apartment" was more like a penthouse and did not make you miss your shabby little apartment at all. You had been worried about privacy, but you had your own room and bathroom down the hall and he gave you space when you needed it. You were actually liking the arrangement, getting to spend more time with your brother than you had in a while.
Even going to work with him wasn't so bad. At first he expected you to just sit around all day, but you insisted on doing something while you were there. He was very wary of it, not wanting you to get too involved in his way of life, but eventually allowed you to do some small stuff. You cleaned up a bit, made coffees, helped organize some old files. Simple stuff.
Then you discovered the HQ had a kitchen. It was little, but Mikey was more than happy to buy all the gadgets you needed to make it functional. Since then you spent your days baking, the thing you missed most. It worked out perfectly, it kept you busy with work Mikey deemed safe and the guys got fed delicious pastries. Everyone was happy.
In fact, you were surprised by how much you were enjoying this. There was still an element of fear knowing that the bad guys knew who you were and sure you got frustrated you couldn't go out with friends, but you did like going to work Mikey.
There was another reason you enjoyed going to Bonten HQ with Mikey so much. Ran Haitani. The attraction you felt towards him the first time you saw him has only grown. He charmed you with ease, like he wasn't even trying. Ran, of course, was trying. Specifically he was trying to make his flirtatiousness seem as casual as possible, as to not upset Mikey. He loved testing the limits, seeing what he could get away with.
"What're you making, sugar?" Ran asked as he entered the kitchen. He'd started calling you that nickname after you started supplying the execs with endless sweets. From anyone else you would think it was corny, but from Ran and it made your heart skip.
"Peanut butter brownies," you replied, taking in his appearance. He was always dressed well, but today he looked particularly good in an immaculate lavender pinstripe three piece suit. You reckoned no other man could pull it off.
He looked you up and down, a sly smile on his face. "Can't wait to get a taste." Your cheeks colored. You knew he was talking about the brownies, but the way he looked at you...
"You sure do have a sweet tooth, Ran."
"Well you're certainly hard to resist. Your baking, that is," he said with an innocent smile.
"Is there something specific you'd like to try?" you asked, returning his faux innocent banter.
Ran grinned, "I could think of something." It was then you realized the two of you had gravitated towards each other. Ran towered over you, his rich, warm scent filling your lungs.
Before you could speak, your brother's voice shattered the tension between the two of you. "Am I interrupting something?"
Ran turned, a calm smile on his face. "Nothing, boss. Y/n here was just telling me about the brownies she made. Was hoping she'd let me try 'em." He spoke so casually, nothing like the low simmer in his voice that had been pulling you in just seconds ago.
"Yeah, I bet," Mikey replied flatly. "A word alone, Ran." Mikey left without another word.
"Save a corner piece for me, they're my favorite," Ran smiled at you before slipping out of the room.
"I thought I made myself clear," Mikey stated when they were alone.
"I don't know what you're talking about, boss," Ran replied, that stupid smile still on his face. Mikey wanted to punch it off him.
"Do you think I'm stupid Haitani?" Mikey asked, his jaw tightening.
"Not at all, boss."
"Then you know that I know what you're up to," his eyes narrowed.
"I just wanted to try some bro-" Mikey cut him off by pounding the wall next to his head. Ran didn't even flinch.
"If you touch my sister you're a dead man," Mikey snapped.
Ran smiled again. "Wouldn't dream of it."
But dream he did. Hell he straight up fantasized about it. What you'd look like bent over those counters you constantly worked at, looking up at him with those pretty eyes while on your knees, how sweet you'd taste... He thought about it all. But more importantly, he planned.
Later that evening Mikey addressed the incident in the kitchen with you. "I don't like you talking to Ran."
"What? What's wrong with him?"
Mikey almost laughed. What wasn't wrong with him. "He's just..." he searched for the right word, not wanting to scare you. "An idiot."
You laughed. "All men are idiots." Mikey gave you a look, but couldn't help but smile.
"I'll ignore that comment," Mikey replied, "But he's just involved in bad shit. I don't want you getting close to people in my line of work, even the one's I trust. Plus, he only wants one thing."
You rolled your eyes. "Why do I feel like I'm about to get the birds and bees talk."
"I'm serious."
"Oh, I know you are," you half sighed, half laughed. "Like I said, all men are idiots. I know what men want, I've dealt with plenty of guys like that. I'm sure I can handle myself. Plus, he doesn't seem that bad."
"Well he is. So stay away from him," Mikey said with finality.
"What're you gonna do, kill him?" you asked, half joking.
"If I have to," Mikey replied so casually you couldn't tell if he was joking or not. You knew he would never hurt you, but you weren't blind to what your brother was capable of.
"You're way over thinking this," you replied, realizing that it would not be worth it to argue over this. "I don't see Ran like that. He's just another weirdo you work with. I'm not interested in him."
That seemed to appease Mikey. You were a better liar than you thought.
Since the day Mikey found you in the kitchen with Ran, the two of you were never alone together. Neither of you address what was going on between the two of you, but you knew he felt it. You could tell by the way he looked at you. You were certain it was not a one-sided crush. However, you were smart enough to know it could not be openly pursued.
Then, one day Ran appeared to you in the kitchen. Alone. "Mikey's out on errands."
For a half second you wondered why he was telling you this, but then it hit you. "Oh." Mikey was gone. That meant...
There was nothing more to be said. You were on each other in an instant, as if taken over by autopilot. Ran's hands felt so good on your body, already wrapping around your waist. You pulled him in by the back of his neck, desperate for more.
Ran wasn't patient in the best of times, but today? He couldn't wait another second to have you. He lifted you up on the counter with ease, pulling a half giggle half gasp from your lips. He moved skillfully, stripping your lower half without ever breaking away from the kiss until he dropped to his knees in front of you.
"Been dreaming about tasting you," he hummed against your thighs. He licked a stripe up your pussy and groaned. "So sweet. Knew you would be."
Ran buried his face between your legs. He knew he didn't have a ton of time and wasn't going to waste a second of it. His plush lips attached to your clit, making you gasp. You knotted your fingers through his lilac hair, needing something to steady yourself. His teased you, pressing against your aching entrance.
"Fuck Ran," you gasped, hooking your thighs over his shoulders and locking him against. Ran loved it, the feeling of your plush thighs pressed against him, how desperate you sounded. He needed to see you completely fall apart.
Ran slipped a finger into your throbbing hole and returned to sucking at your clit. You gripped his hair so tightly it made his scalp ache, but that only egged him on more. The feeling of his fingers curling inside you and his tongue lapping at your clit was too much for you. Your body shuddered as came, moaning his name. Ran savored every second, not pulling away until he was sure you were completely finished.
He stood up, about to kiss you again when his phone went off. He checked it, cursing when he saw Rindou's message. "Mikey's on his way back," He practically groaned. Ran almost laughed at how you pouted.
"I want you so bad."
"I know sugar, believe me," his eyes flicked down to the tent in his pants, making your eyes widen. "But if you're brother kills me before I get to fuck you then we're both shit outta luck." He gave a quick kiss. "Promise I won't make you wait too long." And with that he was gone.
***
It had only been two weeks, but it felt like an eternity. You thought there had been a lot of tension before you hooked up, but now it was down right unbearable. You both seemed to be avoiding each other, not because you didn't want to see each other, but because you couldn't trust yourselves not to pounce on each other. The few times you were in the same room together were a true test of endurance.
The way Ran looked at you drove you wild. His eyes would scan your body in a way that would seem casual to anyone else, but you could feel him undressing you, thinking of all the ways he would ravish you. It made your heart race and your knees buckle. Ran had one hell of a poker face, but the glint in his eyes told you that he too was dying to get his hands on you.
By the time a month passed, you were wondering if Ran was ever going to make a move. Then, on a Thursday night just as you were about to head to bed you got a text.
Ran: Come get the door. Quietly
Your heart raced, wondering if you were reading it right. The door? As in the front door where you lived with Mikey? He wouldn't dare come here, not with Mikey at home. But you had to check. Your crept out of your room, pausing to listen for any signs of Mikey being awake. His room was on the opposite side of the house from yours, but you didn't dare get to close and risk waking him.
When you finally opened the door, you were shocked to see Ran standing there with a calm smile on his face, despite his text.
"What're you-"
Ran held a finger up to his lip, silencing you. "Let's talk somewhere private, yeah?" The way his eyes flicked over you, smirking at the tiny shirts and tight little tank top you wore told you he wasn't looking to just talk. This was a bad idea, but you couldn't bring yourself to care.
The next thing you knew, Ran was in your room. It was weird to see him there, in your private space. It made your stomach churn with anticipation.
"What're you doing here?" you tried again.
Ran sat on your bed, making himself comfortable. "I couldn't stay away from you any longer."
"But here? With Mikey at home?" you questioned.
"Mikey and Sanzu hang out and drink every Thursday night," Ran replied, "They always come in Friday with hangovers. I was feeling generous and bought them a few bottles of their favorite whisky for this evening. I imagine they'll both be sleeping well with how much they drank tonight." Your eyes widened as you processed his words. Ran didn't tell you that he slipped some sleeping pills in their drinks. You didn't need to know that; all you needed to know was that Mikey was very unlikely to disturb you two tonight."
"Are you saying-"
"I'm saying, if you can be quiet for me sugar, we can have some fun tonight," Ran smiled wickedly. "Whaddya say? Can you be a good girl and be quiet?"
"Yes." The words were barely past your lips when Ran pulled you on to his lap. Your straddled him, your bodies easily fitting together. You replayed Ran's kiss countless times since hooking up, but feeling it again blew your imagination away. His lips and tongue moved expertly, intoxicating you. Any concerns of getting caught fell to the wayside as your hips rolled against him, feeling hims harden under you.
In a flash, Ran had you flipped over, your hands pinned above your head. He licked his lips as he looked down at you. "God the things I would do to you if we had time." He kissed at your neck, nipping it lightly. He was careful to not leave a mark, but couldn't resist the way it made you gasp. "Promise one day I'll be able to do everything I want to you. But for now I just gotta be inside you."
You nodded eagerly, wanting to feel him in you so badly it ached. Ran practically tore your clothes off as you pawed at his. His fingers slipped between your legs, grinning smugly as he felt how slick you were. He toyed with your clit before sliding two fingers inside your tight pussy. He watched as your wriggled and gasped at him pressing your g spot.
He drank in this sight, relished the rush of having you splayed out and needy for him in Mikey's own home. Fucking you like this was the ultimate fuck you to Mikey. He could practically get off on the power trip of it alone.
Ran continued to finger you as he sucked on your tits. Your fingers tangled in his hair, scraping his scalp. He hummed in pleasure as he took your nipple in his mouth. His tongue flicked over the sensitive bud as he played with your clit. The sensation grew too intense, pushing you over the edge.
You let out a moan and Ran's free hand clamped over your mouth. He secretly loved that you couldn't keep yourself quiet, but couldn't risk getting caught before he got to fuck you.
"Thought you were gonna be quiet for me?" Ran teased as you came down from your high.
"Fuck I'm sorry Ran, just felt so good," you replied breathlessly. He couldn't even pretend to be mad.
"That okay pretty girl," he replied, "But I'm gonna fuck you even better than that, so you better keep that pretty little mouth shut." You nodded eagerly, anything to get Ran inside you.
Ran stroked his long, hard cock as he spread your thighs apart more. He admiring how slick your pussy looked, his cock aching to feel you wrapped around him. He lined himself up to you, pushing in. His held fell back as his bit his lip, trying to stifle a groan.
"Fuck, angel, prepped you and you're still so fucking tight." He kept his voice low. He rolled his hips, feeling your pussy suck him. "Feels so fucking good."
You didn't trust yourself with a reply. The way Ran thrust into you made your entire body flutter with pleasure. You felt him so deep it left you breathless, his cock hitting spots in you you didn't know existed. You grabbed the back of his neck, burying your face into it. You sucked and nipped at his neck, trying to prevent yourself from crying out. The more Ran fucked you, the hotter it was to keep quiet. Your teeth sunk into the junction of his neck and shoulder and Ran relished in the sting of your bite.
"Fuck Ran," you whined against his skin as pleasure consumed your senses. Your pussy throbbed around him as you came, making his thrusts falter.
"Shit baby so good," Ran panted. His cocked twitch as he finally released, filling you with his cum. He slid out, a smug grin on his face as he watched his cum leak out of you and make a mess of your bed. He was debating if he should risk a picture when he heard the familiar metallic click of a gun cocking.
"Mikey what the fuck!" you gasped, covering yourself in your sheets, though he wasn't even looking at you. His dark, cold stare was solely on Ran as he point his gun at the lilac haired man's head.
"You're fucking dead Haitani."
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