#like I told her that she needs to tell people that they are only invited to the reception bc she’s having a private ceremony

[yannaryartside]

A revision of Claire’s “pushing” and who really benefits from it

A list of red flags I have been thinking about.

gif by @felixcarlucci

I was reading this post and reflecting on why it felt, like @brokenwinebox mentioned, that Carmy was always in the passenger seat in the relationship with Claire (physically and metaphorically); their post is amazing, by the way, talking about this concept of "pushing" and how it should be a mutual thing.

I want to go back to the party and the context of Carmy and Claire's past. All of it is enhanced by that interview with Molly we have been discussing.

My biggest question here is:

Why? Why the hell Claire "could tell" that Carmy wanted a relationship with her? They hadn't spoken in more than a decade, for real, wtf kind of signal did she see that he wanted to be with her? Does she think he has been in love with her all this time? Did she get that idea when she supposedly met Mickey? Because if she pursues Carmy, assuming he has feelings for her but only assuming this because of what other people told her, that is kinda fucked up. It all goes back to Fak being the one that tells her that Carmy loved her after all that shit he said while being stuck in the fridge. I swear to God that the more Molly says things favoring ClairexCarmy, the more red flags I see. Did Claire pursue Carmy knowing it would be a sure thing. "Oh yeah I remember you, you had the most obvious crush on me"

There is also the context of both of them growing up in the same spaces, Carmy very shy and Claire a very popular girl. Did she hear how lonely that was, which made her assume he was avoiding her because of a lack of social experience?

In their first phone call, she never let him explain if he was bussy, even after all that talk of her being supportive of the restaurant she said "don't make this weird," Claire was completely dismissing that Carmy was indeed doing something important to him; she never offered to work around both of their schedules, almost like she knew that if she "pushed" enough, she would get what she wanted.

And even that, their first date or hangout is not to a coffee place, maybe a restaurant with Claire actually interested in Carmy's profession and passion, or any other place they could get to actually know each other after, I repeat, a decade of not seeing each other. She brought him to a party.

She knows the Berzattos and how gatering will go on their avail, she knows Michael will set things on fire, she knows he comes from a family of addicts, and she knows carmy had difficulties on social environments (we can assume by the pictures they had around, taht Carmy attended to her birthday party and other stuff surely).

So why the fuck, on their first "date," not only does she insist on going to a party, but she tells him that he "owns her" to go there? Where there is alcohol and other people that he may felt rejected for as a kid? She knows this is a scenario that may cause him anxiety or discomfort, and she insists he must go. Maybe I am projecting a little bit here, since I am autistic, and at some point in all my friendships or relationships, I have to have a conversation about places that, because of my disability, I don't enjoy.

(little note aside: the excuse "my friend needs me" to convince him to go was utterly pathetic. Almost as much as "you own me.")

But what does this mean coming from Claire in the "pushing" thing? Does she feel she can push him to become (kinda by force) the person that will hang out in the same places as she does, assuming that is still what he wants?

She also knows that he probably felt cast aside from social events because of his shyness, and she invites him to provide all the things that may cause her to look like his only anchor in this stressful scenario.

She brought him the soft drink, tried to tell other people what a cool job he has, and told him what to do to comfort and upset a friend of hers. It felt like she was walking him on a tutorial on "how to be normal," and I didn't like that at all. Again, I may be projecting here, but the dynamic was kind of hollow regardless.

It is not like it is bad for Carmen to socialize and whatever. But she removed his agency completely; it feels like manipulation on many levels because she has perceived a lot of his struggle in this area; she also ignored his first reaction to going to the party and flipped her way. Carmy ended up trapped with a lot of immature young adults with whom he definitely has nothing in common. There was no space for actual empathy or connection to him to "come out of his shell." His conversations with Sydney are so natural because of this; there is connection and mutual respect, and he was very out of his shell with her.

The Pushing between Carmy and Syd this next season will likely be in a professional context but also rooted in a (future) agreement on mutual collaboration. But my feelings about this are not only for sydcarmy.

The "pushing" in ClairexCarmy was always in the context of Claire getting what she wanted and Carmy having to force himself to make it happen. There was no discussion, no middle ground, not even a recognition of why certain things have been difficult for you in the past; it is not an actual intention of helping to heal, but an expectation of the other to go your way "because they want you/love you. Claire is sure that only because of her will he want to change, and she will gain his heart by providing the scenario for all these things Carmy desperately wanted as a kid. I am sorry, Storer, if this is the love story you want to sell us, a salvation of all lonely/hurt people, I am very sorry, I hate it with all my heart.

[tiredfox64]

Can I request the MK1 Earthrealm Champions with a fem!rockstar reader? Like when they meet her for the first time at one of her shows in some underground venue or when she’s rehearsing at soundcheck before a show?

(If you need songs for her to perform, may I recommend Kaia Jette’s music, she has songs like Medusa, Star Maiden, Hellfire, Immortal, Lovesick Idiot or you can choose songs yourself…)

Do You Wanna Love My Rock N Roll?

Yip notes: Joan Jett. Gotta be Joan Jett. I've been to a concert of hers two summers ago. She looks good for her age.

Pairings: Earthrealm Champions x Rockstar! Afab reader

Warnings ‼️: Gave up proofreading, sorry

You have made a name for yourself. Baby, you’re a star! A rockstar that is. A rockstar who has starstruck people from across the world. Many kinds of people want to meet you. Farmers, monks, actors, ex yakuza members…

Alright, there’s more than that but in short, you have captured the eyes of a special group of men. Earthrealms champions to be exact.

Johnny was the one to introduce your music to them all. They were curious since he would blast it whenever he could. In the shower, while getting ready in the morning, during training, whenever really. It disturbed the peace at the Wu Shi Academy but he couldn’t help himself. You were just so amazing and the energy you were blasting out got him going. It even got him singing which was when everyone told him to stop.

Nonetheless, it captured the attention of the others and soon they were grooving to it as well. Kenshi would begin to whisper the lyrics under his breath without even thinking. Raiden would hum the melody while getting ready for the day. Kung Lao would straight up steal Johnny’s phone so he could listen to your music for himself. That was the moment Johnny knew he got them hooked.

They were even more hooked once he showed pictures of you and your band. Wow! You were so cool looking. Tons of pictures with your hair looking loud and wild. Your makeup matched your hair well, especially your eyeliner which made your eyes pop out. Leather and jeans were a wonderful combo for you. Your neck was decorated with chokers and necklaces that looked like chains. Not only was your voice awesome but you in general were awesome.

In a way, you helped them train more. Your music helped pump them up and made them train better. It was a bonding experience for them. It allowed moments where Kenshi and Johnny could put their differences aside. It made them grow closer. Even after the incident with the tournament and other realm bs they still found joy when listening to your music together.

So when Johnny invited them to come to California to see you perform they took their chances. Kung Lao and Raiden did have to beg Liu Kang to let them go though. It was all gonna be worth it! Seeing you in person will be a dream come true for them.

“I can’t believe we are going to see her in person,” Raiden had excitement present in his voice. If his amulet was with him he’d be sparking up like faulty wiring.

“But did we really have to leave your mansion early?” Kenshi asked Johnny.

“Hey! You guys want to see her, right? We have to be early to get a chance to be upfront for her performance. This isn’t a professional concert; this is one of those underground performances that only certain people know about.”

Of course Johnny would know about all your performances. From the big stage ones to the small venues that give people the chance to wreck shit, he’ll know what you’re up to. And he knows he has to be quick to be early to get good spots. Being early and being famous worked in his favor. The moment the security guards saw Johnny they had someone who works at the venue to go tell you. You wouldn’t believe your ears when you heard that Johnny Cage showed up. You had to see it for yourself.

You were still doing a soundcheck and some warm-ups when they arrived. You had to make sure the speakers could handle your music and for the hundredth time, yes, the drummer has their stick bag. You’re preaching to the choir at this point. Lo and behold the actor himself and his friends came walking through the door. You’re a lucky woman to be in the presence of great men.

“Well fuck me! It’s true. Johnny Cage in the flesh.”

You jumped off the stage, your boots making a loud thud once you hit the ground. You looked at the men before you. You’re already starting to like them based on their appearances and the vibes they give off. It’s different from what you expect your fans to look like but that’s not bad at all. You got closer to Johnny so you could get a good look at him. If he weren’t wearing his sunglasses you would see how his eyes widen in excitement.

“I need your good music. I’d die without good music.” Johnny thinks he’s slick for making a reference to one of your songs. “Oh yeah, these are some of my friends. This is Kenshi, Kung Lao, and Raiden.”

The first one you approached was Kung Lao. Immediately you surprised him by running your hands over the shaved sides of his head. Your hand soon went to the back to twirl his small ponytail with your finger.

“I love your hair. I might try this for myself.” You complimented him.

You weren’t looking at his face but this man was stunned. His mouth was open in a joyful smile as his eyes turned towards Johnny. In his mind, he was thanking Johnny for blasting your music every night even though it disturbed his rest. Then you turned your attention towards Raiden. The part of your brain that activates when you see something cute is activated from the sight of his face.

“Aw, look at that baby face. You can’t be a fan of mine, not with that face.” You teased him as you squeezed his cheeks with your hands.

His cheeks started warming up from embarrassment and flattery. No one’s ever described him as having a baby face which is embarrassing. But being touched by your soft hands made this moment worth it. Next was Kenshi. His tattoos caught your eye with how colorful they were and how the art form seemed foreign. You noticed the blindfold over his eyes and weren’t sure if that was a style choice or if it had another purpose. Whatever it was you weren’t sure if it was okay to touch him. That’s until he held his hand towards you, letting you know it was alright. Once you took his hand into yours, your other hand went up and began tracing over the linework of his tattoos.

“I’m digging the tattoos. Might need your tattoo artist’s number.” You joked.

“You don’t want the tattoo artist I have, trust me.” He joked back but his words were true. You didn’t know.

“Well, I sure hope I don’t mess up tonight. I got a good group of men watching me.” Not that you ever messed up before.

“I doubt you will. You’re too amazing to mess up. Plus I need you to give a good performance so I could stream it to my fans.” Thanks, Johnny, no pressure there.

You told them to hang around outside the venue for a bit since you were still getting ready. There was still a good hour before they would truly let people in. They waved to you goodbye, sometimes taking multiple glances at you, before finally leaving.

“They seemed pretty cute.” You hinted at your bandmates.

“Planned orgy?” Your drummer asked. She was dead serious you could see it in her eyes and hear it in her tone.

“What? No, what the fuck is wrong with you?!”

“It’s a valid question!”

The venue got packed quickly once the doors opened. Of course, your little group of fighters were front and center. It’s the best spot. They get a clear view of you and their eardrums don’t get busted from the speakers. Kenshi doesn’t need to be blind and deaf. Sento could only do so much for him. With them being in front of you, you took that as an opportunity to play around with them. That’s the fun of being a star. You get to interact with your fans in whatever way you want, if it’s legal of course. The interactions you will have with them will stay in their minds forever.

Your first victim- I mean fan, was Raiden. You were eyeing him the whole time while you sang. The song was good but he did feel a little embarrassed that you were staring at him while yelling “do you wanna touch” in your mic. But you made his head snap up to look at you when you walked up close and rested your right foot on his shoulder. You were gentle while doing it, not putting your whole weight on the poor man.

He stared up at you in awe. His heart was beating as hard as the bass drum. The spotlights shined bright behind you and you were like a demonic angel looking down on him. You had to get back to your other fans so you went him off with a very light kick before walking off. Kung Lao had to catch his friend who stumbled a little.

“What happened?” Raiden asked as if he were in a daze.

It made Kung Lao laugh at how ridiculous Raiden was acting. But his time would be soon.

Your next song was very screechy and chaotic. You were letting the world know of your wild spirit. Kung Lao was loving that. The energy got to him and he developed an appreciation for the electric guitar with how awesome it sounded. And to think he found electronic instruments to have no soul.

The end of the song was coming up and he was jamming out to it. That’s when you started slowly walking towards him. He didn’t notice at first until you dropped down on your knees in front of him. You grabbed him by the front of his shirt and pulled him in before yelling “Have ya, grab ya, til you’re sore!” right into his face. You had a satisfied smile on your face once you saw the utter shock in his eyes as you let him go. Luckily, Raiden was there to catch him and mock him for acting up as well. You got right back on your feet and continued until there was only pounding from the drums.

Now comes the time you like to jump down and walk through the crowd as you continue to sing. Your fans know not to touch you but to expect you to possible touch them. Raiden and Kung Lao already got their fixings, it’s Kenshi’s moment now. The chorus at the end was coming up and you thought why not give him a surprise. You tried to sneak up behind him thinking he couldn’t actually sense you but you were dead wrong. Though he didn’t turn around, he wanted you to believe you were being sneaky.

Your arm wrapped around his broad shoulders as you continued to sing. The part where your bassist and guitarist drop out and allow you to sing by yourself was coming up. When that moment came up Kenshi decided to turn his neck toward you and sing “I hate myself for loving you” with you. Well, he kind of sang, more like saying the lyrics as you sang them. You smiled proudly before pulling away from him. There was a slight smirk on his face which amazed the rest of the group. At least Kenshi kept his cool with you.

The end of the show was coming up and you did give your attention to Johnny. You didn’t forget him, not while he was shoving his phone towards you. You were saving the best for last. This song was the biggest I don’t fucking care message in the world. With the shit that Johnny pulls sometimes this song works out for him. That’s why he’s your target for the end of the night. At some point you walked up to him and shoved your face into the camera while singing. Gotta give his followers a great show and a good look at your lipstick. What is that, coral blue #2?

Then you decided to mess with him by taking his phone from him. It was like taunting an animal to come get you. You wanted him to jump on stage and he obeyed. He jumped up and took his phone from you, finding your efforts to be funny. You were making this man’s night with how close you were getting to him. Wrapping your arm around his neck, squishing your face against his, gosh it was magical.

But the show must come to an end. All good things come to an end. You kicked Johnny off the stage, not literally, and took a bow with your bandmates. A wonderful performance as always.

The boys were hyped up like kids during a sugar rush. All the way back to Johnny’s mansion they never stopped talking about you and the interactions they had with you. They joked, they laughed, they teased, they enjoyed. What better way to end the night than with a little surprise in the back of Johnny’s pocket.

As he went to grab his keys to his mansion he felt something else in his pocket. When he pulled it out it was a note that he didn’t remember having. When he opened up all their eyes lit up, except for Kenshi’s of course. It read:

Here’s my number:----------

Make sure to share it with your buddies! ;)

Yap notes: I'm so sorry for not posting. I got horrible writer's block and the lasagna put me in a coma. It was too good. Also I just found out my professor for my anthropology class is in Madagascar. LIKE WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU'RE NOT EVEN IN THE STATES! CHECK YOUR EMAILS! Adiós!

[0cta9on]

IVE Gaeul Short Story

Heya there dude✌️Great day to you

Can I have a short about Gaeul?

"Despite being younger than her, you still treat her like a baby, which she seriously protests. She can be tsundere at times. Cutest thing about her especially when she accidentally blurts her true feelings, then quickly covers it up."

In IVE she's the oldest but shortest one, due to her small figure she sometimes gets teased by her member, imo that's her cutest charm 😭 hope this enlightens your day☺️

Hello mikeylo! Tbh I had no idea Gaeul is the oldest in IVE, I always assumed it was Yujin :> This might be a little different than what you ask for, but I hope you enjoy it regardless :]

It's a great day outside - the sun is shining, birds are chirping, and the breeze is... breezing. Perfect day for a bike ride through the park. You text the group chat, inviting them all to join you on your ride, only to be met with an array of excuses of why they can't go.

"My stomach hurts."

"My grandma is in the hospital and I need to see her."

"I have a date today." (He definitely doesn't, but you guess someone else took his excuse)

Right as you think you're gonna have to tough it out alone, you get another text that brings a smile to your face.

Gaeul: I'll go with you.

______________________________________________________________

"See, isn't this so nice, noona?"

You go on bike rides often, so this is all pretty second nature to you. Gaeul, on the other hand...

"H-how the f-freak do you ride this th-thing?"

She hasn't even looked at, let alone ridden a bike, since elementary school. Had you known that, you would've suggested just going for a walk instead, but Gaeul insisted on going on this bike ride with you.

You get off your bike and go to help her. "Here, just keep your arms steady and-" You place your hand on hers to steady the handles, but she swats your hand away.

"I-I can do it by myself, j-just tell me what to do."

"Uh, alright, the main thing is to keep the handlebars steady, if you shake too much like you're doing now, you're going to fall over."

Gaeul tries to move forward, but can barely go a few feet without placing her foot on the ground.

You sigh. "Are you sure you want to do this, noona? We can do something else if you want-"

"No!" She exclaims, drawing some looks from other people at the park. Her cheeks burn pink with embarrassment. "I-I can do this, just- AH!"

Gaeul falls to the ground, scraping her knee against the pavement. In a panic, you run to her side to assess the damage.

"Noona! Are you okay!? Do you need anyth-"

"Ugh, I'm fine! It's just a little scrape." The scratch on her knee is bright red against her porcelain skin. It is, indeed, just a little scrape, but you can't stop yourself from worrying.

"There's a convenience store nearby, I can go and get some bandages real quick-"

"I'm not a child!" Gaeul huffs at you with anger and annoyance. "I told you I'm fine, you idio- Ow!"

As she tries to stand up, a pain shoots through her leg, causing her to fall back down. Before she can protest, you pick up her and carry her to a nearby bench.

"Yah, what are you doing, put me down-"

"Noona," you interrupt her, looking into her eyes. "You say you're fine a lot, but I can tell when you're lying. You never tell anyone about your problems so no one has to worry about you, but that only makes me worry more. I know you better than anyone else in this world, so please let me help you."

She opens her mouth to speak, but no words come out, only a blank thoughtful stare. You place her gently on the bench.

"I'll be right back, okay? I'm gonna get some bandages," you say. Gaeul gives you a small nod before you run to the convenience store.

______________________________________________________________

You return to her a couple minutes later with some Hello Kitty bandages and a banana milk. Gaeul is staring at the ground, that same blank expression on her face.

"Here." You poke the straw through the lid of the banana milk. "Drink up."

"I can do it myself, y'know..." She mutters under her breath, taking the drink from your hand.

"I know, but I want to do it for you, okay?" She turns her head away to hide the blush on her cheeks, but you still see it anyways. So cute.

You carefully place a Hello Kitty bandage on her knee, offering an apologetic look after she winces from the pain.

"There, all good now." You smile up at her, but she averts her gaze. "Are you okay, noona?"

"I'm fine-"

"No. I know that look on your face. If you really don't want to say it, I won't pry, but please just let me help you," you plead.

Gaeul sighs, dropping her gaze to the ground. "Why do you treat me like such a kid?"

"Wha...?

"I'm older than you, y'know. I should be the one getting you bandages and banana milk."

You look at her, confused. Her expression is oddly serious, a far cry from her usual fiery self.

"Noona, I just want to help-"

"Well, I never asked for your help!" She yells at you. Her voice is angry, but you can see tears welling up in her eyes. "You're so... annoying sometimes, y'know that!? Always asking how I'm doing, taking care of me like I'm some kind of baby, well, I'm not a baby, you idiot! I can take care of myself!"

You're left stunned, your mind too boggled to say anything. How long has she felt like this? Did you make her uncomfortable? You look back on all the time you've spent with her. Were you being overbearing? All you ever did was look out for her. Where everyone else saw this angry girl, you saw someone who was dying to be understood, and you wanted to be the person that understood her.

You meet her eyes. Tears pour down her face with each shaky breath. "I-I'm sorry, noona, I... If you hate me so much, why did you agree to hang out with me?"

"Because I don't hate you, stupid, I like you!" Her cheeks burn red with passion. "And you're too good for me..." Just like a fizzling flame, Gaeul's anger devolves into a waterfall of tears.

You sit next to her and wrap you arms around her, pulling her into a gentle squeeze as she cries.

"W-why are you so nice to me...?" She asks in between sobs. "I push e-everyone else away, yet y-you always come back. Why?

A second passes before you're able to answer. "Because you're my friend, and I... I like you too. A lot."

Gaeul looks up at you, her cheeks red and wet with tears.

"I hate it when you think you have to deal with everything by yourself because you don't. You have a whole group of friends there for you. A-and me." You meet her eyes, heart thumping with nervous excitement. "I want you to rely on me the most. M-maybe I started treating you like a child because of that, I'm sorry-"

Gaeul kisses your cheek, sending a wave of electricity through your entire body. It was short and sweet, yet the heat lingers on your skin.

"I-I'm sorry for yelling at you," she says, not meeting your eyes. "You treat me so nicely, and I treat you like garbage.

"Would you kiss garbage on the cheek?" You quip, eliciting a cute giggle from her lips.

The sun falls behind the horizon, painting the sky above into an ombre of fiery orange and gentle indigo. You pull her closer to you, wrapping an arm around her waist as she rests her head on your shoulder. The two of you have a lot to talk about later, but right now, you just want to say in this moment, gazing at the sky.

[bxdtime-ceai]

rant. ignore

[wewontbesleeping]

I’m sooo nervous about finding a bridesmaids dress for my sisters wedding in October

[kentopedia]

nanami kento, who hates dating, and didn’t do much of it in his early twenties. but now, he’s almost thirty, watching all the people he works with settle down, have kids, and he thinks he wants that. so he might as well try.

so satoru sets him up on a few dates — friends of friends, he calls them. and at the end of every one of the dinners, kento goes home empty, exhausted, because he knows what they want is not the same.

still; he thinks maybe he’s being a little self-destructive, maybe too picky, maybe he just got so used to being alone. with satoru’s insistence, he gives all the women another call, invites them over to his apartment.

the first time was a disaster… kento had barely set the dinner on the table before his cat had hissed at her, scratched her down the arm in a thin gash. and though it did draw blood, it was hardly enough to warrant that reaction.

he didn’t even try to stop her as she picked up her bag and left, huffing like she’d been morally offend. kento, though, could only smile to himself in amusement.

because maybe kento was a poor judge of character, a man who was secretly hoping nothing would pan out — but his cat could certainly tell the good from the bad.

it became a little game to him, after that. seeing if anyone could win his pet over, and if they could, perhaps they were the one. his darling animal was a fickle thing anyway. a bit too defensive, quick to bite anything threatening after years on the streets.

naturally, no one came back twice.

he was close to giving up, accepting his solitude because he was tired of empty conversations over dinner. but then, he ventured out over the weekend to a new coffee shop, during hours he normally didn’t spend out of his home, and met you.

though you only talked for a moment, kento felt like maybe he’d known you in a past life. a part of him thought maybe it was strange, the way he kept coming back to talk to you, catching you at the end of your shift to see if you wanted to grab a coffee sometime.

by the second date, kento started to think you could turn out to be his best friend.

by the third date, kento wondered if soulmates were real.

on the fourth date, almost two months later, an appropriate time to get to know someone when you were as reserved as kento, he invited you over for dinner. it was, perhaps, the final confirmation he needed to let himself be with you.

he let you through the door, smiling softly as you told him about the book you were reading, and hung his coat on the rack. a moment later, you stopped, distracted, hands covering your mouth in a gasp.

“kento! she’s the cutest cat i’ve ever seen, you didn’t even show me pictures!” you exclaim, and, a few feet away, crouched down. “look at her pretty eyes…”

“careful,” kento said, “she’s not very—“

but the cat approached your outstretched hand, sniffed once, before letting you scratch her under her chin, purring loud enough for kento to hear across the room.

“shes such a sweetheart, you told me she was mean!” you smiled, making a cooing noise as you threaded your fingers through her fur. “kento’s a liar, isn’t he… you’re so precious.”

a few moments later, she snapped her jaw at you in a biting motion, and you only laughed, withdrawing your hand. “alright, i get it, i won’t bother you anymore.”

though she still brushed against your legs, just as she did kento’s, and seemed to communicate some sort of message to him.

“do you want any help cooking?” you ask, tucking your hair behind your ears. “i’m a disaster in the kitchen, but—“

“sure,” kento said, his chest tightening as he blinked back at you, only in his apartment for minutes and already looking as at home there. he wondered if it was possible to fall in love so quickly. “but only if you want to.”

[whytheylosttheirminds]

I Remember Everything - Rafe Cameron

(Prologue and Chapter 1)

Summary: You left the island two years ago, leaving the love of your life a shattered man in your wake. Now, when you return, you find the sweet boy you once loved has transformed into a monster of a man. How can you detangle the real Rafe from the terrible things he's done?

Timeline: begins toward the end of obx season 3 and is mostly canon.

Content: this story contains sexual content, alcohol and drug abuse, and brief mentions of violence. All chapters are 18+, minors do not interact!

Prologue

Before gold, before grams, before the gun, there was you. Back when there weren’t crosses to steal, lines to snort, cops to run from, there was you. Long summer nights on the Druthers, your mom blowing up your phone ‘cause you missed curfew again. Skipping class and riding to the beach on the back of his bike. All the way back to grade school, playing tag and pretending you were pirates. Then middle school, that kiss under the lifeguard tower, a first for both of you. In high school, the night you got back from the “character-building summer camp” you had been shipped off to and you shared your other first. When you were first together, it didn’t even hurt, but just felt like fucking finally. 

He remembers it all, taking all of his strength to keep it stuffed under the surface. The coke, the violence, the drama he creates in his wake cover you up nicely, until those nights when he’s dead asleep and there you are again, leaving. When he wakes, it all comes back to him. How he sat on the curb and watched you go, bloody and hurt from the night that was your final straw. How he showed up on your doorstep the next day, like he was five-years-old again asking if you could come outside and play. How your mother told him you were gone and wouldn’t tell him where you went.

“Honey,” she said with something like pity in her voice, “Promise me, you’ll let her go, let her be happy.”

A promise he kept, until the day you rolled back into town with no warning. Your timing could not have been worse. After the summer from hell, the summer that made him a killer, he finally felt like he was in control. It wasn’t until he saw you, the only person in the world that ever really knew him, that he realized he had no idea who he was. 

Chapter One

You clutched your phone tight, reading and rereading the message. One you used to get nearly every night but hadn’t seen in two long years.

party at cameron’s tonite !!

It was a group text, sent by the girl from your high school you bumped into in the grocery store earlier that day. You had been back on the island for all of an hour before inevitably seeing someone you knew. You tried to duck quickly into the cereal aisle, but she caught your eye before you could disappear, an action you were infamous for.

“Omg, we need to hang out soon!” She had said, before handing you her phone to put your new number in.

You smiled your fakest smile and said, “it’s a must!” You didn’t think either of you really meant it, but apparently she had.

There were eleven or twelve other numbers in the group text, none you had saved, but you assumed they were likely other people from your high school. She probably just added anyone in her contacts she could think of, not even stopping to realize she was inviting the Kook prince’s former princess to his party. Your relationship had been the stuff of legend on this island. Everyone had an opinion, you were practically a celebrity couple, and it was the biggest news on the island for months when you left, suddenly disappearing overnight. Some real shit must’ve gone down around here since then to make it such old news that this girl didn’t even think about it when adding you to this text.

Your heart pounding in your ears, you couldn’t believe it when you felt yourself typing out i’ll be there :) 

You wore your hair down, the way you always used to have it in high school. After you left, you had cut it short, wanting to shed away as much of your old life as you could, but in the last few months you’d started to let it grow back. Now it flowed down to the middle of your back, tickling the skin of your shoulders where the thin spaghetti straps of the little dress you had on left them exposed. You let the front pieces fall around your face, a sort of curtain to keep an extra layer between you and the other partygoers.

You could not believe you were here. For real this time, not in a dream as you had been every night for two years, but really here. 

As you walked down the gravel path, it all came rushing back. The smell of Rose’s garden, the distant sound of the ocean lapping against the shore, the low thud of the music echoing through the crisp evening air. How many times have you walked down this path? How many nights had you spent here, your senses filled with the glory of Tannyhill, the glory of him? And yet now it felt so heavy, the sights, sounds, smells of it all were nearly choking you. Tears welled in your eyes, but something kept your feet walking towards those grand front doors, towards him.

Four years earlier…

The glass panes of the front door are slightly blurred, only revealing the soft lighting of the grand entryway on the other side. You had crossed this threshold at least a thousand times in the ten years since your family moved to this island. Knocking felt strange, you felt so small standing here in the porch light, surrounded by moths and the thick coastal August air. An envelope, wrinkled from being opened and rifled through so many times, was clutched between your clammy hands.

A figure you couldn’t quite make out approached the door, and your heart pounded in your ears as you hoped desperately it would be him who opened the door. But it wasn’t.

“Oh, hey - I- hi, Mr. Cameron,” you stammered, ever intimidated by the island’s most powerful man.

“Y/N,” Ward nodded cordially. “It’s after 10pm.”

You smiled weakly, if you felt small before, you feel positively infantile now.

“I was just hoping I could see Rafe for like, just a second,” you pleaded, putting on your sweetest smile.

“He’s studying,” Ward said. “You can come back tomorrow. Goodnight.”

Before you could protest, the door was closed and the blurred figure retreated into the house.

Never one to give up, you stuffed the letter into the back pocket of your jeans, and stepped back from the porch, sizing up the massive house to see which rooms still had lights on. You knew the blueprint of this place by heart, checking off each family member mentally as you scanned their window for signs of life. Wheezie’s room? Dark. Sarah’s room? Dark. Rose and Ward’s room? Still lit. This would have to be a stealth mission. 

You snuck around the side of the house and looked up at the last window on your list. To your excitement, the room was still lit. You saw a long shadow pass by the curtains, and you actually jumped a little from the thrill. After spending the longest summer of your life apart from the one person you wanted to spend it with, he was actually right there, just two stories off the ground.

You traveled 800 miles today, what was a few more feet? Blocking out the better judgment ringing in the back of your mind, you picked up a few pebbles from the rocky path that leads to the backyard, and started climbing the big tree that grew right up past Rafe’s balcony. How you were gonna get from the tree to the balcony? That was five-minutes-from-now-you’s problem. You chuckled to yourself as your body naturally found each branch and knot on the tree. You used to have competitions when you were kids to see who could climb this tree the fastest, and you beat Rafe everytime. You remembered the shocked look on his face the first time he saw you scurry up the tree, you were hoping for a similar level of approving surprise once you got where you were going.

Once you reached the branch directly across from Rafe’s balcony, you pulled one of the pebbles from your pocket and chucked it at his window as hard as you could. 

“Shit,” you whisper-yelled as the throw fell short and the pebble dropped, loudly knocking into the first floor window below. You couldn’t afford another noise-causing miss, so you recalculated the throw and bit your lip as you lobbed the next pebble hard. It smacked into Rafe’s window with a loud TINK and you smiled in satisfaction. You waited a moment, then two, and still nothing. The shadowy figure did not return to the curtain. You only had one pebble left, and you had never been good at climbing back down this tree. Remembering the time you fell out of it onto the waiting Rafe below, and you both ended up needing stitches, your stomach twisted in fear. You took in a deep breath and held it, letting the last pebble fly. Another sharp TINK, and a moment of baited breath later, the tall shadow finally returned to the window.

Rafe opened the curtains harshly and you immediately broke into a wild smile. He looked so cute in his fitted gray t-shirt and plaid pajama pants, his normally gelled back her falling in messy pieces around his face. You held back a giggle, delighted by the completely confused look on his face as he searched out the window for the cause of the sound. He lifted the window open and examined the two pebbles that had fallen on the windowsill. 

You took the opportunity to whisper a loud “psssst.” His face shot up in surprise and his eyes finally found you in the tree, just a few feet off of the balcony. Where you expected to see surprised delight on his face, you instead caught something cold and irritated.

“Y/N,” he whisper-called to you. “What are you doing?”

“I just got back, I wanted to see you!” You called to him, hoping his apparent anger was just in response to his own shock.

“I’m busy.” Rafe went to close the window and you felt your moment of opportunity slip away.

“Wait!” you stopped him. “Please don’t make me climb down. We both know it won’t end well.” You smiled a sweetly shy smile you hoped would melt his icy demeanor a bit.  

He sighed and looked at you annoyed for a moment before climbing out the window, his height requiring him to duck low in order to make it through. He had grown even taller over the summer, he must have hit 6 foot by now, maybe more. Your stomach flipped as you watched his athletic frame emerge from his bedroom, now able to see how defined his arms looked in the moonlight. You’d always thought he was a cute boy, but the way he looked right now lit a fire in your belly. Then you realized what it was - while you were gone, the cute boy-next-door had become a man.

“Just reach over,” he directed you.

“I don’t think I can without falling,” you explained. “I think I’m gonna have to jump.”

“Are you stupid?” He scoffed humorlessly.

Your heart sank, the boy you left behind three months ago never would have called you stupid.

“It’ll be fine, you just have to catch me,” you explained.

He rolled his eyes and opened his arms, reaching them over the bannister of the balcony, “fine.”

The brief moment of joy you got from his submission faded fast as you made the mistake of looking down at the gap between the tree and the balcony.

“Actually…” you said, bravery fading.

“What, are you scared?” Rafe taunted.

“No!” you insisted. You smiled at him, suddenly feeling like the two of you were ten again and he was daring you to jump off the trampoline into the pool in your backyard.

Now or never. With a deep breath and a sharp yelp, you threw yourself out of the tree and towards his waiting arms on the balcony. As promised, he caught you, and pulled you quickly over the bannister. His arms wrapped around your waist, yours around his shoulders, he held you there just a few inches off the ground.

You flattened your hands against the taut muscles of his shoulders, delighting in the strong warmth of them. But before you could fully revel in the feeling of being in his arms, he released his grip on your waist and you dropped the final few inches to the ground. Rafe quickly stepped back, breaking the lock your arms had around his neck. Despite the southern summer heat, the air between you suddenly felt ice cold.

“Rafe,” you whispered, stepping towards him, but he only pulled further away.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he said without even looking at you.

Rafe started back towards his window, and something gave you the feeling he was not going to invite you to follow him through it.

“I need to talk to you,” you started to explain.

Rafe whipped around to face you, the way he towered over you at his new height sending goosebumps down your spine.

“Why don’t you go talk to your new boyfriend instead?” He snapped.

You were so stunned that you let out a little laugh, which only made his furrowed brow scrunch even more in anger.

“What are you talking about?” You asked.

“I saw the pictures your camp was posting on their website all summer. I saw you wrapped around that douchebag.”

It took a moment of confused silence for you to realize what he was talking about, when it finally dawned on you, you laughed again. He turned from you and started heading towards the window again, but you caught his arm, your hand not able to fit even halfway around it.

“No, Rafe,” you explained, “That was just Andy, one of the other campers. We were doing a trust fall exercise. He dropped me like two seconds after that!”

Despite himself, Rafe turned to look at you, eyes examining you nervously. 

“Are you ok?” He asked in a small voice, wishing desperately that he didn’t care.

You smiled softly, there he was - your boy. 

“I’m fine,” you assured him, showing him the small scar on your wrist. “Just a little scrape.”

A moment passed, he avoided your eyes but allowed you to step closer, your hand sliding down his arm and slipping into his, his fingers reluctantly intertwining with yours. You knew exactly what words he was struggling to find, but decided to let him get there on his own.

Finally, “Why didn’t you answer my letters?”

Your other hand reached into your back pocket and pulled out the envelope you had tucked away. You held it out to him wordlessly. He took the letter and held it to the light coming from his room, examining it with a confused look. The envelope was addressed to him at Tannyhill, from you at camp. When he finally noticed the “return to sender” label, it all clicked.

“They kept getting returned to me, I don’t know why,” you said as you squeezed his hand. “I asked to use my phone to let you know but they wouldn’t let me. I almost just snuck out of camp and came home so I could explain it to you.”

“Your mom would’ve been so mad,” he said, finally, finally smiling at you.

“Then she would’ve just taken away my phone and we’d be back where we started,” You said. “There’s like twenty more letters like that. I don’t know why they never made it to you, it’s like someone was sabotaging me.”

Rafe seemed satisfied with your explanation and the remaining bit of anger on his face melted away completely. He stuffed the letter in his pocket and suddenly threw his arms around you, lifting you in the air as you yelped in surprise, giggling as he started planting sloppy kisses all over your face and neck.

“Shhh, baby, my parents will hear you,” he whispered. “They’ve got me locked in my tower because I failed my last quiz in this fucking summer school pre-calc class.”

“Rafe!” you said in mock-scandal. “Naughty language!”

“Oh, baby, I can say way naughtier things than that,” he growled in your ear, your cheeks now burning from real-scandal.

“C’mon,” he said, setting you down and grabbing your hand, to lead you to his still-open window. 

He placed his large hand on the small of your back as he helped you through the window, climbing in after you and closing it slowly so as to not make a sound.

You and Rafe had done some more-than-kissing things before, but that was the night you gave yourselves to each other completely. He held you after, softly kissing the scar on your arm from when Andy had dropped you.

“Never gonna let that Andy asshole touch you again,” he said between kisses. “He can find his own girl, you’re mine.”

You giggled and he looked up at you in confusion.

“Rafe,” you were laughing hard now. “Andy’s gay.”

He broke into a bashful grin, a quick blush of embarrassment swept across his cheeks before he grew serious again and started kissing up your arm.

“I don’t care,” he said. “They should all know - all the Andys and Jakes and Chads and whoeverthefucks,” his kisses had reached your neck, “no guy is ever gonna get to touch you like me.” He pulled back and looked into your eyes with a sincerity that squeezed your heart. “Gonna love you forever. Gonna marry you, make you a mom. Never gonna spend three months, or even three fucking days away from you again. That what you want?”

“Yes,” you breathed, meaning it with your whole being.

“Good.”

Now…

The memories flooded your brain as you opened the door and stepped into the home you used to think would be yours someday. The party was swelling, the vibe feeling so familiar and so uncomfortable at the same time.

You made your way straight to the kitchen, desperately needing a drink. Every step you took sent a memory flashing through your thoughts like a shock to your brain. You passed the living room and saw movie-nights-turned-make-out-sessions on the couch, playing mario kart with Sarah and Wheezie while Rafe laughed at your hyper-competitiveness, prom pictures in front of the fireplace. You passed the dining room and saw the first family dinner you were invited to, how you made Ward laugh with a story about fishing your own dad used to tell, how Rafe squeezed your thigh under the table in pride. You entered the kitchen and saw the time you and Rafe set off the smoke alarm trying to make pancakes, the time he lifted you onto the counter and went down on you when his family was out of town. And then, standing by the keg, you saw the girl who invited you, clearly plastered already.

“Omg!” She yelled when she saw you.

Everyone else in the large kitchen turned and looked at you. It felt dramatic, but you could swear the whole room fell silent when they saw you, a comical record scratch playing in your head.

The girl who invited you ran over to you, beer sloshing over the side of her solo cup and onto her shirt. 

“I can not believe you came,” she said, loud enough for everyone to hear. “I completely forgot when I invited you, about, you know, you and-”

“Can I get one of those?” you cut her off quickly, gesturing towards her drink.

Before she could answer, a loud crash came from outside the kitchen’s open french doors. The heads that had all been watching you suddenly snapped toward the sound towards the crowded back yard. When the loud bellow of a man’s voice rang out, the people in the kitchen all ran towards the unfolding scene. You pushed through the crowd and out the doors, drawn inexplicably to the voice. Your heart dropped to your stomach when you realized why - it was Rafe.

There in the backyard, packed with drunk people and lit by string lights, Rafe stood with his fist clenched in the collar of some guy’s white button up, forcefully pulling the scared looking dude toward him while he yelled.

“I said none of that fucking cheap shit,” Rafe yelled at the guy you now realized was a cater-waiter. 

“I’m sorry sir, I-” Rafe threw the man down and he fell back in the dirt.

“This isn’t some ghetto block party out in The Cut,” Rafe yelled. “Do you know who’s fucking house you’re at right now?”

The crowd around you watched, most smiling in support of the man they looked at like he was a rockstar. You cringed at the looks of admiration in their eyes and took Rafe in with your own.

He looked different, harder. His floppy blond locks had been shaved off, and he had traded old t-shirts and jeans for slacks and a polo. He was as tall and built as you remembered, but instead of it being endearing, it was just scary as he looked down at the poor server like he was gonna kill him.

Then he spat on him. He actually spat on another human being. It disgusted you in more ways than one, and you felt your heart breaking in your chest as you realized you had no idea who this man was. The boy who held you on that night four years ago and promised to be yours forever clearly didn’t live here anymore. You turned quickly and pushed back through the crowd, unable to watch another second of this sickening display of toxic masculinity.

Rafe glared down at the pogue-scum in the dirt below him, an eerily familiar feeling washed over him as something moved quickly in the corner of his eye. He turned at just the right moment to see a whip of long hair disappear through the crowd.  But it wasn’t. It couldn’t possibly be. Surely, it was not you.

(chapter 2)

a/n: Hiiii this is the first fic I've posted in about 10 years!! Hope you enjoyed, forgive me if I'm rusty! More chapters to come :)

[upsidedownmvnson]

tell me you love me | steve harrington

warnings: fluff (warning lol) friends to lovers, idiots to lovers,

a/n: i actually really loved this <3 i hope you do too

tell me you love me vol 2

Steve Harrington had already tried twice in his life to confess his love for you.

The first time, you two were in the tenth grade and you had just accepted stupid Jack Warren's invitation to prom, so Steve didn't bother. That was back when he was settling into popularity anyway, so he got over it pretty quickly. He was dating Cathy Bartlett the next week.

The second time, Robin had made him pinky promise not to date you. She had held him down, sat on his back and twisted his arm until he pinky swore that he wouldn't do anything to destroy the delicate ecosystem of the friend group. There was already one awkward ex-situation in there.

But Robin was right, you were not like the girls he normally dated. If things went wrong he wouldn't be able to just sweep it under the rug, it could have painful ramifications for all his friends. Although... he didn't actually think it would go that bad. Steve would find his mind wandering on the idea often. He pictured the two of you in the kitchen, side by side cooking dinner and talking about your day. When he thought of you, it felt like home. It felt like somewhere he could build a house and live forever.

If he could only get the words out, he'd realize how quickly you'd accept him. He'd realize he wasn't the only one of you that was stupid in love.

You had been in love with Steve since you could remember. But never once thought he'd shared your interest, not with all the girls around him all the time. The way he shines in their attention and basks in their praise, it's enough to make you sure he's happy with how it is. Or he probably wouldn't have told you all about his date with Debbie Dabbenthorn, right?

Tonight, you, Nancy and Robin were at a party. Something Steve desperately tried to make not happen. But he was working, so there was no one to stop you girls from coaxing each other into drink after drink, which you always did. The three of you always drank too much, and Steve always got stuck trying to coral you and Robin into his car.

At the party, Nancy was handing you another red cup filled to the brim, sloshing over the side and coating your fingers. You hadn't noticed.

"I love when we ditch the boys," Nancy said, smiling as she sipped out of her own solo cup. "It's so fun!"

"Same," Robin said, slinging her arm around Nancy's shoulers, making the two of them sway and laugh. They caught their balance and cheered drinks. "Hey, help me find the bathroom!"

It wasn't hard to find, but it was hard for all three of you to get there without knocking into each other, but it didn't matter. The three of you giggled the whole way, laughing too hard over barely anything. Enjoying the simple joy of being with your friends on a party.

The line for the bathroom was short, only a few people deep. Nancy was grilling Robin on her love life while Robin evaded every question with a vague answer, soon, she turned it onto you, focusing Nancy on the other singler girl in the group.

"Do you not think anyone is cute at least?" Nancy said, not quite believing you when you say you didn't have a crush on anyone at the moment. You shrugged, trying to avoid admitting that it was her ex boyfriend that really turned your head. Robin chuckled, and slid into the bathroom.

You started sipping your drink when Nancy asked, "Not even Steve?" and you nearly choked, but you coughed once and composed yourself. You stared at her, confused as to why she would bring him up.

"You don't have to say anything," she said, and you looked into your cup, noting that you'd need a replacement after this trip. "But it would be okay with me."

Robin opened the bathroom door again, reassembling the trio be throwing her arms around both of your shoulders. "New drinks!" she cheered, steering you all in the direction of the kitchen.

"Drink up," Nancy giggled, "and then let's dance!"

So that's what you did, you guys drank and danced and had a great time. Until Jonathan came to pick up Nancy. That's when you saw that it was after nine, so Steve should've been on the way to come collect you and Robin from your drunken outing. You told Robin again how nice it was for Steve to come get you.

"But c'mon, you love him right?" Robin asked, laughing at your shock.

"I do not love him," you argued, but you did. Robin shrugged, but didn't look convinced. "He just is beautiful, that's all."

"Nah," she said, brushing off the idea with a wave of her hand. "You just love him."

"Do not," you mumbled. But Robin already leaned the other way when Vicki walked up to talk to her. You leaned further into the couch, the ugly thing was very comfortable. Steve should be there any minute.

"Hey," Robin whispered, "Vicki invited me to go with her friends to the lake... Are you gunna be okay here? You're not too drunk are you? Because if you think you can't stay awake, I'll stay of course..."

"Robin, go! I'll be fine for like two minutes..." you slurred, you were pretty drunk but Steve really was going to be there any second.

"Okay!" she didn't have to be told twice before she was scrambling after Vicki in her love-drunk haze. Or maybe just regular drunk, but Robin was feeling giddy anyway.

Steve was running behind because he lost the address that Robin had given him. She'd just ripped off a corner of a piece of paper, and Steve had lost it at some point in his shift. When he finally found the place he was thirty minutes behind.

When he got inside you were curled up on the couch alone, snoozing while some couple made out next to you in the spot Robin had vacated. He smiled when he saw you, and took a knee next to you, trying to wake you up nicely. He stroked your cheek, and tucked some hair behind ear, making you stir softly in your slumber.

"Time to get up," Steve said, "Where's Robin?"

"Went with Vicki," you whispered, rubbing your eyes, smudging whatever makeup wasn't already ruined from the dancing.

"Well, how mean of her to leave you here all alone," he said, running his thumb along your cheek again. "Can't trust you guys alone now though, she did leave you to fall asleep at a house party. That's like really bad, I'm mad at her."

You made a soft noise in response, his stern voice was, not so stern. He smiled at you, and you couldn't help but notice how beautiful he was. Leaning close to you, rubbing your cheek, hair falling perfectly on his forehead and you just wanted to reach up and brush it away like he did. But your hands were wedged under your head, and you were afraid that if you stirred even an inch, he would leave, and this moment would be over.

"Guess you'll just have to make sure you come with us next time," you whispered, eyes bloodshot and glossy from all the alcohol. He thought you were the most beautiful girl in the room. The party was still raging around him, and he easily could've found a place within the girls, but he was content in this moment with you. Your eyes started feeling heavy, and you couldn't stop them from constantly fluttering shut.

“C'mon let me help you up babe,” Steve said, aiding your drunk figure. The nickname made your stomach flip. You were dead weight, giggling as he took care of you and grabbed your things and still found the patience to be kind to you, musing like he was interested in all your drunk babble.

“You're just so pretty, Stevie, it's stupid,” you cooed, finding a place beside him with his arms around you for balance as he lead you, slowly, to his car.

"D-Don't say that stuff," Steve said, voice cracking at the beginning. You were drunk, and it was dark, but you still noticed the blush on Steve's cheeks, and you smiled.

He opened the door for you, and you commented, "so romantic," while holding your hand over your heart, and Steve's heart raced. He went around the trunk of his car to get another second of fresh air, if you saw him in the light you were sure to see the heat he felt in his neck and cheeks. You were flirting with him, and he couldn't contain his excitement every time you complimented him, looking up at him with those beautiful eyes.

The entire trip was like that. From the moment he was in the car you were just a loose cannon of compliments and praises. This combination of him sober and you drunk has never happened while alone before. Were you this flirty with him when he was drunk too?

The answer was yes. The real reason Nancy knew you really wanted Steve was because whenever you two are drunk and together you look like you're in love... because you are. Holding hands, head on shoulder, legs across laps, big bright smiles that made everyone think you were truly, madly, deeply in love. Everything that's just a little too friendly, but never crossing that silly little line that kept you both under the umbrella of just friends.

You were a delight in his passenger seat. He only wished you spoke like this when you were sober, because then maybe he'd know for sure you love him too.

"Hey Steve?" you asked, voice coming out as almost a purr in your sleepy state. Steve's heart melted. "Can I hold your hand?"

"Yeah," he answered, clearing his throat and moving his hand over to your lap, intertwining your fingers. Your hands were cold to the touch, but all you felt was the comforting warmth of him. You were both smiling, goofy grins to match the butterflies in your stomach. "You can hold my hand whenever you like."

You made another happy hum, but said nothing else. The ride was short. No words exchanged, just the quiet songs on the radio, turned low to let you drift off in the passenger seat.

When you got to his house, he parked the car, looking at you. He didn't want to wake you. And he didn't want to let go of your hand. Maybe he should just stay in the car all night.

Of course he didn't do that. Steve weaseled his way out of your grip, not bothering to hide how pleased he was that you whined at the loss of his touch. he helped you out of the car, encouraging you to climb on his back for "an express ride to the VIP bathroom," and he delivered, carrying you, all dead weight and giggling, to the bathroom where he left you to clean up. You put on the clothes he delivered, Plaid pajama pants and a big grey shirt. Well, you put the shirt on, the pajama pants were thrown into the tub, because you couldn't be forced to wear pants.

"Steeeeeve," you slurred, leaving the bathroom, giggling and bumping into the doorframe.

Steve was standing in the doorway to his room, wearing only blue plaid pj pants. His torso on glorious display, while he stood frozen at the sight of you. You stretched your arms over your head, and the shirt rose, exposing your panties to him. He nearly choked looking at you.

"Can I sleep in your room?" you asked, smiling at the effect you had on him. "Look how cute I am," you said, turning around and lifting the shirt while bending over slightly, giving him a perfect view of your ass, with the panties laying deliciously over your cheeks.

"Jesus," he muttered, unable to look away but trying to force himself to. He shouldn't be sneaking a peak while you were this drunk, but in his defence you were the one showing him. "Come to bed, just put your shirt down."

"It's your shirt," you teased, obeying him anyway. You danced behind him into the room, and crawled into bed. It smelled so good, it smelled like him. You could've stayed by Steve's side under these blankets forever.

You lay facing Steve, in his overly big, overly comfortable bed, too tired and drunk to keep your eyes open, but you still try. Steve smiles at your determination to stay awake, he watches your eyes blink quickly, trying to shake the sleep away.

You want to reach over and intertwine your hands, you don’t. He wants to reach out and brush the hair off your forehead and behind your ear, he doesn’t.

“Are we in love, Steve?”

The sharpness of your question cuts him, wounding him in a way he didn’t know was possible. He wanted to speak, but there were no words. No charismatic come back, and no way to avoid the lingering question in the air. Steve holds his tears back. He really did love you.

When your eyes peak open, he’s nodding. His eyes filled with tears that he refuses to let you see, but you see. "Yeah, I think so."

“Why is it so sad?”

“Because we're best friends," he said, "and I can't lose you."

"Tell me you love me," you whispered, silly mood replaced with a tight feeling in your throat, like you were going to cry. But you held it back.

"I love you," he whispered.

"I love you too."

He wanted to cry. He wanted to kiss you. But instead, he just sighed, and found your hand under the sheets, and held it tightly. He was frozen. This was his dream come true, so why did it feel like a nightmare? Like you were right there, but he couldn't have you. Like he was doomed to stay in love with you, and never actually get to be with you.

“I will still love you in the morning whether I say it or not, Stevie.” Your eyes finally started winning the battle, and they stayed closed more than they stayed open, too heavy too fight.

"I know babe," he said, watching as you breathing changed and your eyes didn't open again. "I will too."

[reiderwriter]

More Than Words

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female BAU!Reader

Requested: yes

Summary: After telling a white lie to your family about your relationship status, your forced to beg your coworker Spencer to pretend to be your boyfriend for a weekend wedding.

Warnings: Light smut at the end, penetrative sex, creampie, mentions of Spencer's childhood.

A/N: Thank you for the request on this one! Ever since I rewatched Season 7 and saw Spencer dancing with everyone at JJ's wedding I've been thinking non-stop about him just holding you close like that and I'm going to shut up now because 8k words of that is more than enough lmao.

You can find my masterlist here, and I just started posting all my stuff on AO3 as well, so if you prefer to read there, check it out!

Despite knowing about your brother’s impending nuptials for the last 18 months, it was in the final two-week stretch that you actually started panicking about getting the date that you’d promised them. It was one sweet little white lie that you had made that had just spiraled out of control, but you’d yet to actually manifest the secretive boyfriend who was “very real actually, mom, he’s coming to the wedding actually.”

It was that statement that had sealed your fate, and always one to wear your emotions on your face when you weren’t on a case, it wasn’t long before someone noticed your building anxiety and guilt.

“Okay, spill Y/N. You look like you just witnessed your favorite author kick a puppy or a kitten or something,” Penelope said when you dropped some files off in her room that morning, spinning around on her chair to face you as soon as she caught your reflection in her monitor.

“It’s this wedding I have to go to,” you sighed dramatically, falling into one of the other chairs in the room kept for visitors.

“Want me to help you get out of it?” Penelope offered, patting your hand comfortingly.

“I’m not sure my brother would be too pleased about that, since it’s his wedding and all. My mother would drag me down all the way from here herself if she had to.”

“Okay, so a no-show is a no-go. Then what gives, my sweet avenging angel? There has to be something serious to get you looking all glum.”

You sighed and ran a hand through your hair before straightening up and leaning into Penelope more, creating an air of secrecy.

“Promise you won’t tell?”

“Oh sweetie, if only you knew the secrets these four walls held,” she replied dramatically, pulling a laugh from you.

“Last year, I was so, I don’t know, jealous I guess, of all the attention my brother and his fiancee were getting because of the wedding, and it just felt like every time my mom called me, she would only want to talk about them because of the wedding. I felt left out, and I already live so far away anyway, so it’s hard to have that connection with people back home, so I might have told a small, tiny, inconsequential lie that now actually has consequences?” Your face flushes at the confession, and you can see Penelope trying her best not to blurt out her thoughts, intent on letting you continue.

“I told her I was seeing this guy. He’s amazing, he works in the FBI just like me, and he’s smart, and he takes me on dates to these amazing places, like museums and interesting restaurants and to book fairs. I told her he was handsome and that he looked at me like I put the stars in the night sky, and he just doesn't exist, Penelope. And now I have to disappoint my mother again by turning up to my brother's wedding without a date.”

“Oh sweetheart,” was all she said for a minute, and the sympathetic look on her face made you want to run out of there immediately.

“I know, I know, I need to tell her the truth, but I don’t want to do it at the wedding and spoil her happiness. She loves weddings.”

“And this fake boyfriend is supposed to be your plus-one?” she asked.

“My invitation read ‘To our darling sister and her mystery man,’” you groaned, wondering how you could have been so childish in the first place. You’d acted like any child on a playground would, inventing lies to make yourself seem more important and cooler.

“I think I have the perfect solution for you, angel, but you might not like it,” Penelope grinned from her chair, leaning back and playing with the pen in her hands nefariously as if she’d been waiting for this chance her whole life. You didn’t trust that look, but you had no other option, so you took a deep breath and listened to her plan.

–X–

Three days later, and you were suddenly pacing the hallways with a coffee and a croissant, poised and ready to kidnap an FBI Agent the second he passed you.

At first, you’d laughed at the suggestion she’d made, outlandish as it was. But 72 hours of reflection, and a timely phone call from your mother, and suddenly you were on board and ready to lock on to your target. You stopped pacing when you heard the elevator ding, signaling the arrival of Spencer Reid. You were thankful that his schedule was so regular and timed down to the minute that you had just enough time to ambush him in the hallway before any other member of your team noticed.

“Spencer! Here I bought you coffee and a croissant from that cafe I mentioned a while back,” you panicked, unloading the gifts into his arms quickly, taking him off guard, before checking left and right before pushing him into the nearest empty room and shutting it behind you.

“Good morning to you, too, Y/N. Is there a reason we’re in a closet right now?” he asked, looking down at you with knitted eyebrows.

“Yes,” you gumped, afraid to say anymore.

“Are you going to tell me what the reason is?”

“I need you to be my boyfriend for a weekend,” you finally blurted out.

“You need me to… Just for a weekend?” He looked confused, and you felt your cheeks flame up, as you tried your best to explain the situation for him.

“My brother is getting married in LA this weekend, and I need a date. I told my mom last year that I was in a relationship with a really great guy who also works for the FBI.”

“Oh. So, you broke up with him and don’t want to tell your mom?”

“No, he never existed. Long story, I can explain on the plane, but I really need you to come with me! I’ll pay for everything, and I’ll even get you this coffee and any pastry of your choice every day for a month, please, please, please!” You begged him, so desperate that you were moments away from dropping to your knees and grabbing his leg, refusing to move until he acquiesced. You didn’t have to in the end.

“Oh, sure, I’ll go. When did you say it was?” Your jaw fell open in shock, and it took a few seconds to pull yourself back together as you reacted to his words.

“This weekend? The flight is tomorrow at 6 a.m.” You smiled sheepishly as his eyes bugged out of his head.

“This weekend? What were you going to do if I said no?” He laughed at you a little, taking a sip of the coffee you bought him.

“Honestly? Plan B was to cry, and plan C was to kill off my mystery man in a freak accident.”

“Wow, we just started fake dating and you’re already trying to bump me off.” His smile made you burn hotter than before, as you playfully hit his arm in response.

“Stop saying we’re dating. I pulled you in here to ask you privately because I didn’t want weird rumors circulating in the office,” you pouted.

“Then you better let me out of the closet, Y/N, before people think we’re doing something we shouldn’t be. At least three people saw you drag me in here, you know.”

With that, you rush to open the door and run out, shouting a reminder back at him.

“Just be ready, okay. I’ll see you at the airport at 6 a.m.”

–X–

The flight, despite being ridiculously long, was altogether quite pleasant, and you made it back to California in one piece, Spencer trailing behind you like a lost puppy for a while, letting you take up the role of “airport dad” as you guided him through the airport and to the hotel where the wedding was being held.

“So what’s our cover story?” He asked in the taxi on the way there, breaking the comfortable silence.

“What cover story?” you asked, looking up at him from your phone, still focused on just getting to the destination.

“Where did we meet, how long have we been dating, how much do they know about me?” He listed off the possible questions that his parents were absolutely going to interrogate him with soon. “I need to prepare so we don’t get caught out, right?”

���Oh, right. Based on what I told them, we met at work and we’ve been seeing each other casually for about a year now. I didn’t give them a name yet, which annoys my mom to no end, but I was always pretty private as a child so she didn’t find it all that suspicious. Other than that, they don’t know that much about my mystery boyfriend apart from the things we’ve done together.” He listened attentively as you spoke, taking each of your words in and committing them to memory.

“What was our first date?” He asked.

“Coffee shop. That place I got you the coffee from earlier, it’s called Flondon. I’m a regular there, so it made sense to use it in my story.”

“What else have we done together?”

“There was a book fair in New York a few months back that we, uh, spent the weekend at. You surprised me for my birthday with the tickets.”

“Wow, so I’m a really great boyfriend then.” He joked a little, and you let out another groan of annoyance at his teasing. You didn’t get the chance to finish your conversation though, as the taxi finally pulled up to the hotel.

You climbed out of the taxi after paying the driver, Spencer having already left to grab your bags, before walking into the foyer of the hotel.

“Y/N, just one last thing before we go in,” he stopped you at the door, grabbing you by the arm gently. “Are we… the, um. Hotels tend to get booked up pretty early for weddings, and I’m sure your family will be suspicious if we don’t share a room so…”

He didn’t have to finish voicing his thoughts before you were cursing, not having made the connection before.

“Shit, you’re right. My brother made the booking for me months ago. We just have to go in and get the room key but I totally forgot… It’s fine, right? We’ve roomed together on cases, haven’t we?” You asked, looking up at him.

“No, we haven’t. 67% of our motel bookings allow for single occupation rooms for Agents, I end up sharing a room with Morgan for 15% of overnight stays where double occupation is necessary, Hotch for another 17%, and the remaining 1% is made up of outliers where I had to share with Rossi or Prentiss, but we…we haven’t shared before.” He gestured between the two of you for a moment there, letting the facts sit with you.

“Spencer, it’s okay with me, is it okay with you? I understand if you’re not comfortable with it. We can just turn around now if you want.”

“No, no it’s totally fine. I just wanted to make sure you’re comfortable with it. Morgan says I snore, so I guess I’m not the best roommate in the world.” He smiled at you then, reassuringly, and moved his hand down your arm until it reached your hand.

You looked down at where his hand had entwined with yours and your heart gave a little jolt. Spencer didn’t like physical touch, and you knew that. You tried not to initiate any contact with him, despite being a touchy person, but there had been times after particularly tough cases and with close calls where you’d thrown yourself into the nearest person's arms, and he always happened to be near.

But those hugs had been thoughtless, natural reactions to stressful situations and this was intentional, and more importantly, he’d started it.

“Sorry, I just assumed we should get used to, uh, touching each other, I guess? We’re going to be doing it all weekend, you know, might as well start now.” He gave you an awkward closed-lip smile, and you giggled at his awkward explanatory tone. Squeezing his hand a bit, you grabbed your suitcase again in your free hand, and pushed open the door with your shoulder, pulling Spencer in behind you.

The lobby was filled with people arriving for the wedding, and you instantly spotted three cousins and two aunts from across the room, giving them a little smile as you made your way to the reception desk, Spencer right at your side.

“Hi, reservation for Y/N L/N, please.”

“Sister of the groom, right? Your mother asked me to give her a call when you arrived. Please wait one minute.” She handed you your key, and you felt yourself go pale, turning around to Spencer for reassurance.

“Oh god, she’s coming now, what do we do?”

“Y/N, calm down, it’s okay, we knew we were going to have to see your mom tonight at the reception anyways.”

“You’re right. Okay, right. Okay.” You breathed out, as Spencer wrapped his other arm around you, holding you in a closer embrace while keeping your hands locked together.

“One of my aunts is looking at us. She looks like she wants to say something. Oh god, she’s coming over, Spencer act natural,”

“Saying act naturally is actually counter-active-” but he didn’t have time to finish before you had turned to greet the older woman, disentangling yourself from Spencer’s arms as you hugged the woman warmly.

“It’s so good to see you, Y/N, you know how we all worry about you doing that job of yours. The other week we saw you on the news about that tragedy with the young girl…” she trailed off, giving you a worrying look before quickly shifting her gaze to her actual target, Spencer.

“I think I saw you too, young man. You must be Y/N’s boyfriend,” she smiled at him, waiting to hear a response so she could return to the other matrons with the gossip.

“Yeah, nice to meet you, I’m Spencer.” You could tell he was thankful that the woman hadn’t stuck her hand out to shake his, as he positioned himself mostly behind you, keeping his hands occupied by letting one settle on your hip and the other keeping a hold of your suitcase.

“Spencer? Spencer Reid?” You heard your mother before you saw her, turning around in your place to finally see her, as Spencer whipped his head around as well. “I’ve heard so much about you. It’s so wonderful to finally meet you.”

Your mother had none of the restraint of your aunt, and unfortunately, you’d inherited your clingy side from her, which is why she immediately swooped in to give Spencer a hug. To his credit, he greeted her warmly as well and didn’t avoid the touch, but he kept it short and polite nonetheless.

“Mom, how did you know…”

“You tell me about your coworkers all the time, I’m just surprised I didn’t work it out sooner. I always said that you talked about that Spencer with a fond tone, you should ask your father, he’ll tell you that I did.” You rolled your eyes at your mother’s words, doing your best to avoid Spencer’s gaze. He’d fallen back into place by your side as you greeted your mother.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you, You know, Y/N has been keeping you as this big secret for the last year, and it’s so nice to see that you’re actually real. You’re here!” She sounded so excited for you that your heart almost broke under the weight of your guilt, knowing that you’d have to come clean at some point after the wedding. As it was, you were already going to have to try really hard to avoid the photographer and videographer throughout the night so you didn’t have to be constantly reminded of your idiocy whenever your mother got the photo albums out,

“Sorry, the two of you are probably exhausted after that flight, right? Go and get yourself unpacked. The rehearsal dinner is at 8 p.m. so we’ll catch up then, sweetheart.” She left in a whirlwind, having deposited you next to the elevators, and left you with no other option but to do exactly as she said, making your way to your space for the weekend.

–X–

The following few hours had been a little awkward, to say the least. You’d awkwardly pulled away from one another in the elevator up to the room, apologizing for invading each other's personal space. The room was a decent size, but still small enough that you’d be constantly tripping up over one another the entire weekend if you weren’t careful.

Reid carefully unpacked his tuxedo when you got into the room, and then quietly informed you that he’d need a shower. You’d unpacked your own things while he did, trying not to listen to the water flowing over his body in the next room. His earlier touch had ignited something in you, and your heart was beating at his every gesture now, something that you were sure it hadn’t done before.

What was it about weddings that made you so open to even the possibility of romance that even someone so off-limits could become the object of your affection?

So you tried not to listen, not to wonder why it was taking the man so long to just take a shower, not to let your mind wander to a place where it was perfectly acceptable to wonder what he looked like in that shower, and you unpacked and organized your things.

“Hey, Y/N, I’m really sorry but I forgot to bring my clothes with me,” he called awkwardly through the door a few minutes after you heard the water turn off, and you turned to the bathroom, not expecting the sight before you.

You’d assumed from the quiet volume of his voice that he was calling from within the bathroom itself, but instead, he stood awkwardly in front of you, a towel wrapped around his waist and torso, held together desperately in one hand.

“Oh shit, sorry, I’ll just turn around, I guess,” you stumbled over the words, dragging your eyes back up to his face as you did so, whipping yourself around to stare ahead of you.

“No, no, it’s my fault. I was so hasty I forgot my outfit for tonight. It’s okay.” You heard him fumble for his clothes and return to the bathroom quickly with another mumbled apology, finally allowing you to let out a deep, almost dreamy sigh, startling yourself. Mentally chastising yourself once again, you finished your organizing and let yourself fall onto the bed in the middle of the room sleepily while you waited for him to come out again.

You must have dozed off a little because you woke with a jolt when you felt a soft touch on your arm. There he was above you, a soft and concerned look on his face as he woke you up as kindly as he could.

“Y/N, it’s 7 p.m. We need to get ready for the rehearsal.” He whispered as if he weren’t too bothered if you didn’t want to go down at all, content to let you sleep. But you forced yourself upright anyways, and nodded at his words, swiftly moving yourself towards the bathroom he had since departed.

“Thanks for waking me, Spence,” You rubbed the sleep out of your eyes, gathering your towels and change of clothes before turning back to him. In the four hours you’d apparently been dead to the world, he’d managed to dry his hair, change his clothes, and, from the looks of the book on the bedside table, read through an entire book twice.

He noticed you looking and cleared his throat. “Sorry, you looked so tired I didn’t want to wake you, so I just sat here and read while you got some sleep.”

“It’s okay, Spence. I guess I was pretty tired. I’m gonna go…” you gestured towards the shower and stepped towards it with an awkward smile, not letting him answer before you had closed the door between you and taken a deep breath, setting thoughts of him aside for the night before you focused on getting yourself ready to face your lies.

An hour later, you were making your way back down to the lobby, having received a text from your brother that that was where everyone was gathering before making their way to the dining room. Spencer offered you his arm in the elevator on the way down.

“Here, grab my arm.” He said softly down to you, a sweet smile playing on his lips.

“Oh yeah that makes sense,” you said distractedly, looping your own through his and leaning into him.

“It’ll also stop you from picking your nails,” he joked.

“I don’t pick my nails!”

“You so do. You do it when you’re nervous and when you lie about something. Last month on that case in Chicago when that officer asked for your number, you told him you had a boyfriend and started picking your nails,” he laughed down at you, enjoying your pouting face a bit too much as he profiled you.

“You’re one to talk. The last time a woman asked you out, you started rambling about the linguistic history of the phrase “go out,” in the romantic sense. She stood there for five minutes before she gave up.”

“Wait, when did that happen? I don’t remember any woman trying to ask me out.”

“Then you’re even denser than I realized, Doctor Reid, because they do it constantly.” Your back and forth ended there, though, as the elevator doors finally opened into the lobby. You smoothed out your dress and tried your best to act natural as the two of you made your entrance.

“Y/N! Over here,” you heard your brother and saw him wave at you from the other side of the room, his fiancee next to him receiving guests.

“It’s been so long since I saw my kid sister. Get over here,” he smiled at you, beckoning you over, and you released your hold on Reid to give your brother a warm hug.

“Now who is this kid sister you’re talking about because last I checked you’re only 18 months older than me.”

“18 months, 18 years, all that matters is that I am, in fact, the older one,” he released you from the bear hug and glanced up to Reid, standing awkwardly watching the scene waiting for an invitation to the conversation. “Holy shit, you’re real.”

“Hey! Be nice. This is Spencer, he’s my… he’s my boyfriend, we work together.” You felt your cheeks flame as you introduced the two of them, your brother looking at Spencer through knitted eyebrows, taking on a faux protective stance.

“Spencer, hey. Mom mentioned you were here earlier, but I didn’t think you’d be so gangly… It’s my wedding, and I’ve been told I have to keep all threats to a minimum, but if I see you getting all handsy with my sister, just know that I have a blackbelt in jiu-jitsu.”

“No, you don’t. You have a yellow belt in karate at most, and you got that at age 10.” You laughed at the man.

“And whose fault is that?”

“Oh my god, it’s been almost 20 years, I already apologized!”

“Apologised for what?” Spencer finally managed to butt in, watching your sibling bickering as if it were a tennis match.

“This little rodent,” your brother said, scruffing up your hair as he spoke, “broke my wrist when she was 8 and I was 10.”

“It was self-defense! You were trying to use your karate moves on me and I panicked!”

“And now, you’re a hot-shot FBI Agent and you get to break bad guys wrists all the time.” He finished for you and you laughed, suddenly glad to be back around family.

“So, Spencer, you’re an FBI Agent, too? I thought my mom mentioned something about you being a Doctor earlier.”

“I am. A Doctor. And an FBI Agent, uh, they’re PhD’s not medical degrees, though. Three of them, Math, Chemistry and Engineering. I also have Bachelor's Degrees in Psychology, Philosophy, and Sociology.” He answered, and you looked up at him proudly, taking his hand as you noticed him growing slightly uncomfortable with the attention from your brother.

“Wow,” was all your brother said, until he finished the statement with “All those degrees and my sister was the best you could do, huh?” You punched him in the arm after that, and you felt Spencer physically relax a bit, twinning your fingers with his as you chastised your brother.

“Anyway, thanks for taking the time to come to our, hopefully, lovely wedding, the reception will be starting soon. The dining hall is just through there.” You hugged your brother again, and, with a breath of relief, led Spencer down the hall to the dining hall.

“That went well, I think?” you whispered to him, conspiratorially.

“Your family is nice,” he replied. “Does he always act like that, or is it the wedding spirit possessing him somehow?”

“If you’re referring to my brother, I think he’s probably partaken in a few flutes of champagne already this evening. But yes, he’s always like that. They all like to treat me like a baby when they see me.”

“I think it’s nice. They care about you a lot,” his words were warm, but his eyes were sad, and you remembered what you’d been told of Spencer’s own childhood and felt your heart ache for him. His mom loved him a lot, but Spencer had needed to grow up much too fast. You squeezed his hand, still clasped in yours and before you knew it you were pushing onto your tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek.

“Thank you, Spencer. For being here,” you said as his now flushed face met yours. You didn’t let him respond though, simply pushing forward into the dining hall, ready to live in the fantasy of your own making for the evening.

–X–

“Spencer, you were amazing!” You giggled, walking down the hall to your room, stumbling slightly in your excitement and haste.

“Those magic tricks? The little babies couldn’t get enough of you,” you spun around, wrapping your arms around the man’s neck and pulling him in close to you, letting him hold you against the door to your room. He laughed a little at your antics as he pulled out the key card.

“Y/N, are you drunk?” he asked, one hand firmly planted on your waist to steady you now.

“No! I’m just happy. And if that happiness was caused by an array of cocktails forced into my hands by distant aunts and cousins who all wanted to know about my absolute catch of a boyfriend, then that is simply secondary to the feeling itself. And furthermore-” He pushed the door behind you in on itself, and your words were cut off by your legs giving out beneath you.

You were so sure you were about to take a tumble to the floor that you shut your eyes tight and braced for an impact that didn’t come. Opening them again slowly, you saw Spencer closer than before, his face mere inches from your own as he held you in an improvised dip, having caught you just before you’d hit the ground.

“Sorry. I… Shit, maybe I am drunk,” you breathed out, not letting your eyes drift from his own, knowing that if you ever considered a glance down at his lips at that moment, you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from closing the measly distance separating you.

“You should use the bathroom first,” he told you, but without making any move of his own, stuck in that pose with you as if he was content to stay there for as long as he could hold you. “You should take your make-up off. We have a long day tomorrow, right?”

You were the first one to move, letting your feet find a more solid footing beneath you and twisting up from his grip. His hands didn’t leave your body as you became more upright though, still keeping you in that close embrace.

“Yeah, I should… I should go wash up.” You said, and he nodded, still looking at you with the same intensity as before.

“Spencer, that means you need to move,” you whispered quietly, and he jumped back as soon as the words were out of your mouth.

“Sorry. I’ll just… I’ll just be over there,” he held his hands up in surrender before moving further into the room, leaving you next to the bathroom.

Fifteen minutes later, you emerged from the bathroom and were ready to sleep once again. Thankfully, you of earlier that day had managed to store your pajamas in the bathroom ready for their use. Upon exiting the bathroom, you saw that Spencer was getting ready to sleep too, slacks and a shirt having been replaced by a pair of flannel pants and a very old and beaten-up CalTech sweater, looking perplexedly down at the bed.

“Spence, what’s wrong?”

“We didn’t speak any further about the sleeping arrangements…” he mumbled and you looked at the bed in front of you, still confused at his meaning. “Y/N, we have to share the bed.”

“Oh.” You knew you probably sounded dumb, but after the amount of alcohol thrust upon you that night, that was all you could muster at this point.

“I can sleep on the floor if that makes you feel more comfortable. It’s probably no worse than some of the motel beds we’ve stayed on before,” he offered, but you instantly shook your head.

“No, I dragged you out here, I’m not making you sleep on the floor as well,” you sighed and made your way to the side of the bed you’d slept on earlier, beginning to pull the covers down so you could get in.

“What are you doing?” Spencer asked, perplexed by your somehow contrasting words and actions.

“I’m getting ready for bed. It’s late.” You replied, not looking up at him again, for fear that he’d spot the blush on your face. “You should too,” you continued, patting the other side of the bed, gesturing for him to get in, too.

“Oh.” It was his turn to stand there shell-shocked in the moment, and you almost let out a giggle but held back thinking that would be too much for him to take in at that moment.

“Come on, Spence, I’m tired, I’m sure you’re tired. We’re just sharing a bed, it’s not like you have to marry me after this.” You climbed fully into the bed, making sure that your nightgown covered you decently before pulling the covers up around you. Spencer mumbled something that you didn’t catch, but he acquiesced and climbed in after you. You turned your head over on the pillow to face him, turning onto your side as you watched him turn his head to you as well.

“What?” he smiled, noticing your stare.

“Nothing. Good night, Spence,” you smiled, finally letting your eyes drop closed.

“Good night, Y/N.” He whispered, and the sound of his voice carried you off to sleep.

–X–

You weren’t sure if it was the light streaming in through the window or the rise and fall of a chest that wasn’t your own was the first thing to wake you in the morning, but nonetheless, you woke from the comfortable warmth of sleep and found yourself wrapped around your fake boyfriend.

To be fair to yourself, he was also wrapped around you. Your head had gravitated from your pillow to his chest, his left arm wrapped up and around your back. Your leg had also risen in the night, pulled up over his waist, held in place by his other arm, which was, almost embarrassingly, cradling your ass, pulling you in closer to his core. Unsure about how to go about disentangling yourself, you resigned yourself to just waking the man up.

“Spencer… Spencer,” you whispered, letting the hand that had fallen onto his chest tap him slightly. He stirred a little and then cracked an eye open, looking confused with the situation.

“Y/N, is it time for the wedding?” He asked through half-lidded eyes, evidently wanting nothing more than to fall back into whatever dreams he was having. You shifted uncomfortably in his arms then, suddenly growing stiff in the position you’d probably held for hours, and found your nightgown had risen dangerously high on your body, his hand on your near bare ass.

“No, no, it’s just…” You rolled your hips against his in discomfort, and the movement had his eyes breaking open as he finally took in your positions.

“Shit, I’m….Sorry, I don’t know what happened, I must’ve grabbed you when we were sleeping,” he said, reluctantly slipping his hands away from your body, trailing his hand around your leg, and letting it fall onto his stomach. The movement sent a shiver up your spine, as you finally had enough room to lift your torso up, not quite ready to relinquish the proximity of your entire body yet.

“It’s okay, I think it was probably me who started it in the first place. Those pillows weren’t that comfortable…” you tried to explain, the hand on his chest rubbing slow circles into his skin before you could realize what you were doing.

He pushed himself up into a sitting position then as well, clumsily. With your legs still wrapped around his waist, you had no choice but to move with him, suddenly finding yourself straddling him, the bedsheets suddenly pressed away from your body. If he looked down, he’d see a lot more than you planned for him to see, your panties on clear display as your nightgown twisted itself up into the sheets.

“Shit sorry,” he moaned out again, as you steadied yourself with hands on his shoulders.

“No, it’s okay, I didn’t move quick enough.” You quickly pulled your dress down again, and extracted yourself from the bed, lifting your leg up and off of him and finally pushing off the bed, leaving him sat there.

His hands fell into his lap and you started gathering things around the room, readying yourself for the busy day ahead.

“I have to be in the bridal suite at 11, so we have about… two hours to kill before then. Do you want to grab a shower first, or should I?”

“You first,” he mumbled quickly, before clearing his throat and trying again. “You should go first. You probably have more to do today, right?” You nodded at his words and made your way to the bathroom again. Out of the corner of your eye though, as you let the door close behind you, you watched his hands come up to cradle his flushed face, as he let his head fall back again into the pillow.

–X–

The morning was so busy after that, you barely had any chance to talk to Spencer again. You spent the early afternoon in the bridal suite with the wedding party, welcoming your new sister to the family, then made your way to the aisle space set up outside, checking up on last-minute details and helping to flower girls into position. You weren’t walking down the aisle yourself, but you could see that the extra help was letting the very stressed-out Maid of Honour get some well-needed respite. And more importantly, it stopped your wandering thoughts from letting you fantasize about Spencer.

You’d woken up in bed next to people before, of course, but it had never felt so comfortable. In fact, other people you’d slept with said you were pretty distant in your sleep, choosing to move as far away from physical touch as you could get, but you knew with no doubt that you had been the one to move in first, to touch him first. That he’d pulled you even closer had your heart singing, and you wanted to be wrapped up in him all over again, suddenly desperate to seek him out. So you distracted yourself, not wanting to make any mistakes you would regret when you were no longer wrapped up in your own fantasy.

So you kept your distance as the ceremony started. Then the wedding march was playing, and you were holding back tears as his hand slipped into yours, your head falling onto his shoulder as you watched your brother marry the love of his life.

You kept your distance as you reached the reception hall, watching all the old ladies on both sides fawn over him, asking him questions, and watching from his side as he blushed at the attention. You swept the hair out of his eyes as the couple was announced, and you took your seat for the wedding meal and the speeches, his hand falling to your back to guide you to your chair, pulling it out for you like a true gentleman.

You kept your distance as your new sister tossed the bouquet, and despite your low effort and the ravenous looks of the bridesmaids, it fell neatly into your hands as if it belonged there. You ran excitedly over to him to show him and he lifted you into a hug, caught up in your own excitement.

You kept your distance until you realized you’d not kept your distance at all, physically unable to keep yourself away from the man who had somehow stolen your heart in the middle of the night.

“I know that look,” your brother said, somehow sneaking up on you later into the night as you watched Spencer perform even more of his magic tricks for the smaller guests.

“What look?” you asked, not for one second letting your eyes drift from Spencer.

“You’re in love with him,” he said, taking a swig of the drink in his hand.

“He’s my boyfriend,” you said reflexively, turning to the drinks table behind you and picking up one for yourself.

“No, he isn’t. Or at least he wasn’t before this weekend,” your brother said, as your eyes finally snapped up to him.

“Oh, don’t act all surprised, Miss FBI Profiler. You may be good, but I’ll always be your older brother, and contrary to popular opinion, I do in fact pay attention to things.” You sighed and leaned back against the table.

“How’d you figure it out?”

“You were picking your nails the entire way through the reception dinner when the aunties were asking you about your relationship. You did that when we were younger too, when you tried lying to Mom and Dad about how I broke my wrist. Doesn’t take two PhD’s to figure that out.”

“Three.”

“Three what?”

“Three PhDs. He has three of them.” You sighed dreamily and ran a stressed hand through your head.

“He’s just my coworker. I didn’t want to disappoint Mom by coming alone after telling her all those stories, but now…” You tried to explain yourself but words were escaping you in that moment.

“You should tell him, trust me. He definitely feels the same.”

“How are you so confident about that? How did you manage to end up with all of the confidence between the two of us, when I can barely work up the courage to tell my own mother I’m still single?”

“Y/N, look at me. You got the brains, I had to have something. And no man flies to the opposite side of the country on a few day's notice for a girl who is just a friend, okay? That’s more logic than confidence, and that’s supposed to be your strong suit.”

You considered his words for a second, turning back to look at Spencer. Evidently, he’d finished his magic show and was beginning to say goodbye to the children, but he felt your eyes on him somehow and met your gaze. He brought his hand up into a shy wave before a little girl grabbed his attention again, and he looked at her seriously, nodding along to each word she was saying.

“Fuck, what do I do, I’m not good with… any of this.” You turned back to your brother, but he’d left you there, stranded in your own thoughts as you let yourself hope, let your brain dream that one day this would be your wedding and the man by your side would be Spencer Reid.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the bride and groom request the presence of all the couples on the dancefloor for this next song.” You saw your brother again, next to his wife, whispering his explanations in his ear as she turned to look at you and winked as well. God, they were going to be a force to be reckoned with together now, you thought, as people started pushing past you to make their way to the dancefloor.

You recognized the song of course, and it was almost so on the nose you almost rolled your eyes. More Than Words by Extreme. Perfect.

“Y/N, may I have this dance?” He had somehow snuck up on you from behind as you watched your brother, and held his hand out to you. You put your drink down and took it, letting him lead you to the dance floor.

“I didn’t think you danced, Dr. Reid,” you teased him as he pulled you in, letting his hands rest on your waist, as yours came up around his neck, gently letting him sway you side to side in time with the music.

“I don’t really, but it seemed wrong not to,” he smiled. “I’m at a wedding, with the most beautiful girl on my arm, and the couple made it very clear that we should be dancing, so here I am.” You blushed at his words as he spoke. He removed his hands from your waist, instead grasping one of yours in his own as he pulled you closer.

You stared up at him with a soft smile for a few more seconds before letting your head fall back to his chest.

“I know I’ve said it a lot this weekend, but thank you, Spencer.” You said into his shirt, letting him hold you close as the song went on.

“You don’t have to thank me, Y/N.” He insisted, and you looked up at him again. “Actually… I didn’t exactly agree to this with the best of intentions.”

Your heart lept to your throat as you stared up at him, hoping that he would take your silence as a means to continue.

“I’ve been… I thought that maybe…” he struggled to get the words out, his face aflame with the effort.

“You promised me those coffees right?” He finally stuttered out, and you were left confused and a little disappointed.

“Yeah, Spence, it’s okay, I’ll get you those coffees for the month, just like we promised.” You couldn’t help the sad smile that played on your lips as you answered him, so sure that he was about to say something else.

“No, I mean… Y/N I don’t want the coffee. I want this. I want us to go home, and make everything that you made up come true. I want to take you on a date to that coffee shop. I want to be a boyfriend you can call and tell your mom about because it’s serious and it’s going to work out between us. I even… God, I even spent the morning looking up book fairs in New York City so I could make that come true as well,” he rambled the words out and you could feel the tears forming in your eyes.

“Spencer,” you said softly, trying to get him to focus on you, but he’d started speaking and he wasn’t going to be stopped so easily.

“And if any of that creeps you out, just say the word and I’ll never mention it again. Because I know I’m not good with this, and when I feel something, I tend to feel it overwhelmingly, and Derek tells me I can be really oblivious sometimes, which I don’t really get, but-”

“Spencer,” you put a bit more force into your words this time, punctuating them with a hand on his face.

“Spencer, kiss me.” And he does. He takes your head in both of his hands, and he draws you up to him perfectly, letting your hands fall to the lapels of his suit jacket as he steals your breath away one more time. The kiss is lingering, but short, and he hesitantly backs away, looking around to spot witnesses. But you don’t care and you pull him back down for another, and another, until you’re just two lovers on the dance floor that cannot get enough of each other, gasping for breath between chaste kisses as you let him hold you there, gently swaying.

“Spencer,” you whisper finally, forehead resting on his, as the song finally draws to a close.

“Yes?”

“Spencer, take me to bed.” You tell him, and he nods. He leads you over to the bride and groom where you offer each of them a hug and a happy future before making your excuses and running away with Spencer back into the hotel like two love-drunk teenagers, a mess of giggles and stolen kisses as you stumble up to your room for the second time that weekend.

But this time, you don’t hesitate, don’t pull away. He backs you into the door and you let him hold you there, his mouth on yours, your tongues entwined as he fumbles for his key card. You fall together into the room, laughing and smiling the entire way, not letting him escape your touch.

“May I?” He asks, playing with the zipper of your dress as you kiss his cheek, his jaw, his neck, anywhere you can reach, nodding and moaning your consent. The moment the zip is pulled down, he lets you go for a second, and the dress falls straight to the floor. You're practically bare in front of him, chest exposed, neck littered with the beginning of love bites that he’s about to absolutely build upon.

“You’re beautiful.” He says, softly, wrapping his arms around you again, lifting you up so your legs can wrap around him as he delivers one more soul-crushing kiss to your lips. Your brain is a mess of emotions, your only solid thought is that you will never let him go again. You both eagerly worked on unbuttoning his shirt together, a desperate mess of breaths as he finally laid you on the bed. His hand fell to your core, tracing a finger over your sensitive nub as you begged him for more, needing to feel all of him, to devour his very existence.

He pulled himself out of his remaining clothes, lips still attached to yours, climbing over you and holding you tenderly, his arms wrapping around your body as his legs came to settle between your own. Dropping his forehead to yours, he finally spoke again, his hand dropping between the two of you to line himself up.

“Is this… are you sure?” You heard the restraint in his voice, the desperation, the love, the overwhelming lust as he held himself back, needing to hear your consent.

“Spencer, I love you,” you whispered, and he finally pushed himself into you, joining the two of you together in a moment of bliss. You shared another sweet kiss, letting him swallow each and every one of your moans as he began thrusting into you, your hips rising to meet him in your delirious pleasure.

He whispered sweet nothings in your ears, brushing the hair off your face every now and again to tell you how beautiful you looked, and how well you were doing.

“You’re so perfect, Y/N, you’re doing so good for me,” he pressed kisses against your neck with each word, keeping his pace steady as you chased your inevitable high, already clenching around his thick cock.

“Spencer, I love you,” you let the words drop from your tongue like a prayer, repeating them over and over with each thrust as small tears welled up out of your eyes. He kissed them away from your cheeks, listening to each confession as your stomach tightened and your climax spilled over you. He grabbed your waist then, leaving one hand cupping and stroking your cheek as his own thrusts grew sloppy, finally spending himself fully inside you.

“I love you, too,” he whispered into you then, unwilling to let you go for even one second. You spent the rest of the night whispering the words back and forth to one another, waiting with bated breath for the fantasy to break, for the magic of the wedding to wear off.

It never did.

[mydearestdaryl]

ಇ. 𝑚𝛼𝑚𝛼 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

summary: you've loved daryl's daughter since you met her, but becoming her mama is only recent. warnings: twd violence, blood & gore, character deaths, mildly explicit language, implications of sex, not really proofread. pairing: dad! daryl dixon x greene! reader (fluff, angst if you squint, kinda). setting: terminus. credits to: @louifaith for the amazing plot idea, hope you like this! a/n: my first post so please be kind. i tried to keep daryl's character but it was hard. anyway, i hope you enjoy this as much as i enjoyed writing it, and i appreciate constructive criticism. ♡

it started on your dad's farm when daryl got shot by andrea. heather, his daughter, was younger then, almost two years old, and to keep her from seeing her daddy in the state he arrived that day, you showed her your childhood dollhouse, playing with her until your dad let you know daryl was better and resting in the guest room.

you went to visit him, baby in arms, and she immediately jumped into her daddy's arms when she saw him. he invited you to stay a little longer that night, not even knowing why he did that.

you became heather's (and daryl's) favorite person since then, and when her daddy was better and resumed the search for sophia, she pretty much demanded to be babysat by you and only you.

then the group lost the farm and spent months on the road. heather became more and more attached to you during this time, who would try to keep her positive and happy by telling her you were all looking for a treasure together.

she believed you when you found the prison, where you helped her decorate her and carl's cell with colored chalks you found.

one day you came back from a run with glenn and rick, happy and smiley as you handed heather the coloring book and crayons you found for her. glenn told daryl that the gift almost got you killed that day. too focused on the girl, you missed daryl's adoring eyes when he looked at you.

this happened multiple times. you missed how he was so protective of you, how he always made sure you and heather were fed and safe, the subtle blush on his cheeks when you complimented him, or how his eyes never left you if you weren't next to each other.

"i didn't even know 'er," daryl started. you were sitting next to him on a bench outside the prison watching the sunset as Heather sat on your lap, napping peacefully. "her mom," he added, stroking his daughter's downy cheek softly.

your eyes met his stormy ones, and after staring at each other shortly, he looked away, suddenly interested in the fences.

"me and merle had been holed up in our trailer as usual, him bitchin' 'bout how i never wanted to go out no more. jus' to shut him up, i agreed to hit the bar with 'im one night," he explained, nervously chewing on his bottom lip.

he didn't even know why he was opening up to you. but there was something about you that had attracted me since day 1. his daughter was a shy little girl with most, but she seemed right at home with you, bubbly and happy in your arms.

and his father was no different. his walls came down in your presence, even if he tried to avoid or deny it. and there was something between you and the hunter, everybody knew. everybody saw it but you two. idiots.

he believed you only liked him because he was heather's dad, and because he provided for the group. that was the only reasonable explanation to him. and you believed firmly he was only grateful that you took care of heather, so he was friendly in return. fools.

"i knew t'was a mistake soon as we walked in. place was too damn loud, too many people. but merle shoved a beer in my hand, said i needed to "loosen up." so i started drinkin'," he said, clearing his throat when he paused. "merle kept passing me drinks, an' i got real drunk."

"next thing I know, merle's leadin' me outside, sayin' he's got a 'surprise' fer me. turns out the damn fool hired some lady, had her waitin' round back. i told him no way but he kept calling names, tellin' me I wasn't a man…" daryl talked and lowered his volume as he stared at the girl in your arms, eyes always softer when he looked at her. "woke up in the mornin' feelin' lower than shit."

"'bout nine months later there's a knock at the door. the lady's standin' there with the tiniest baby i ever saw in 'er arms. pink lil' face scrunched up and her hands like fists—looked real funny then.” he chuckled at the memory and you smiled as well, imagining newborn heather until daryl went on.

“couldn't believe somethin' so fragile was spawned from my sorry ass," he added. you wanted to speak, to tell him he was an amazing man, but you knew that right now he needed just you to listen.

"the woman told me if I didn't keep her she was gon' get rid'a her somehow. i wasn't sure she was mine but I didn't care," his eyes finally made contact with yours again, smirking as if he was about to tell a joke. "then she grew up and…"

"she's your twin," you giggled and he nodded, his gaze finding his shoes. If only you knew what the sound of your laugh did to him. "how did you choose her name?" you questioned. it was something you wondered often.

he chuckled again, meeting your gaze again, "she didn' have a name for a month," he explained with a smile. "then ma uncle said she needed one, and i called her all the girl names i could think of until she smiled at one."

"she named herself," you said with a breathy laugh, placing a kiss on the head of the adorable girl holding you while she slept, your eyes were this close to turning into hearts, and unbeknownst to you, his were just the same, but while looking at you.

the memories seemed too distant now.

the second prison attack seemed like a blur. one moment your dad was dead, and then daryl was cupping your face, telling you to get heather and leave. now you both were camping in an abandoned rv five days later, the almost-three-year-old blissfully unaware of the stressful situation, for all she knew, you two were on a little vacation. a girls' trip.

maybe keeping the girl in such a state of ignorance was foolish, knowing the chances of never seeing her dad again were high, but she was a toddler, a baby, and you'd keep her unaware and happy as long as you possibly could.

sleep claimed you at some moment of the late night, much to your dismay, since you had been too paranoid to allow yourself to sleep and not keep watch for the past days.

"mama, mama, maaaama," heather called you in a sweet, sing-songy voice as she cradled your face with her tiny hands, shaking your face gently. you opened your eyes quickly, instantly searching for dangers, but there was none nearby. it was now morning, though.

then you realized what she called you, and your heart skipped a bit. she called you mama. she considered you her mom.

"hey baby," you softly cooed. you smiled brightly at her, cupping her sweet little face and placing a short kiss to her nose.

"when we gonna eat?" heather spoke letting go of your face to play with her bunny plushie. a gift from daryl.

"oh, you're hungry? we still got an apple left, let me slice it for you," you said, moving her off you to go get the apple and knife from your bag. a grumble was heard from your stomach as you sliced the red fruit, reminding you that you hadn't eaten in 3 days. all the food was for heather now since it was getting harder and harder to find any.

"mama's hungry," heather giggled as she took the napkin with the apple slices and started munching on it. you hummed and tickled her, not wanting to deny or confirm it as you sat next to her. heather handed you a slice, and even though you wanted her to remain fed, you figured you'd find more food today and took the slice from her hand, eating it slowly to make it last.

yes, you knew it didn't work like that.

"you know what we're doing today?" you started as you got the baby wipes you found in the last drugstore you came by, cleaning her face and hands. oh, how you missed showers.

her cute face lit up with excitement, she had already complained of being bored in the trailer before. "we're going on an expedition today!" you explained, eyeing the stain on heather's shirt she had been wearing for the past couple of days. "we're gonna find food, and maybe new clothes, perhaps a toy, how does that sound?"

"yay!" heather celebrated, making you laugh, "and we gonna find daddy!" she added with a gasp, beaming excitedly. your heart dropped, but you didn't let it show, simply faking your best smile.

"oh, but we're on a girls' trip, honey, daddy will have to wait a little longer." heather nodded and you got your bag ready, although it was almost empty.

you got your quiver on and held your bow with your right hand, heather holding the other hand. "now, remember the rules? if i say yellow…"

"i hide, close my eyes, and be quiet," heather said, skipping as she walked next to you, "and if you say red we run," she added, looking all adorably serious.

"perfect," you praised her. "we're also looking for a new place to sleep, would you like that?" she nodded, crouching down to pick up a rock she found pretty.

in the trunk of a car, you were lucky enough to find two bags of chips on the verge of expiring, but still good, along with a bottle of water—it was a little warm but it was good too. the girl happily helped you put the stuff in your bag before you both quietly continued your journey in search of somewhere to camp.

on your way, you found a sign with a map. some place called terminus seemed to offer shelter for anyone, it claimed to be a sanctuary. it seemed too good to be true, but it was also too dangerous to stay out here with heather another night, so you decided to give it a shot.

you walked almost all day, holding heather when she was too tired, and boy, was she getting heavier, but at last, you found terminus that night. there, the people seemed kind and attentive, perhaps too attentive. obsessed, almost. mentioning how rare it was to see a little kid lately, and going on and on about how sweet kids are.

your gut was telling you to run, to take heather far from this place, so kindly declining the food they were offering, you took your girl in your arms and told them you still had to find her father, as an excuse.

this infuriated these weird people, making them point their guns at you and the sleeping child in your arms as they threatened you to try and move. your heart was beating so fast you thought heather would be able to feel it. you begged them to let you go, holding your kid as tight as you could so she wouldn't see what was happening.

an older woman approached you, attempting to pet heather's hair, but you slapped her hand away. she huffed and whispered in your ear, "oh, don't worry, we'll keep you together. kids and women taste good together."

a couple of the men dragged you to a sort of shipping container, locking you and heather in there, taking your weapons and bags away.

you felt thankful for the darkness for hiding your tears, so when heather asked you what was going on, you faked a happy voice and told her you were in a cave and you'd be safe here until tomorrow. rocking her back to sleep.

you got no sleep at night expecting these cannibals to show up. you were ready to put up a fight. the kid woke up in the morning, maybe around 7 or 8 a.m., which you guessed based on the slight shift of light that peeked through the thin gap below the door of the container.

to keep heather from being afraid, you played with her to guess the number, letter, or word you spelled on her back with your fingers, earning a bunch of laughs from her. but all too soon, one of the men who welcomed you suddenly opened the door ordering both to come with him, dragging you when you begged him to let you go.

he took you to a room with tables that had all kinds of stuff, from toys to jewelry, to clothes and shoes. they were belongings of other people.

the man's voice interrupted your thoughts. "first, take your earrings, necklace, and shoes off, and put them where they belong," he instructed. "the kid can put the toy over there," he pointed at the pile of plushies and toys. your heart ached for the kids that you assumed died here.

"mama?" heather spoke to you, hugging your leg. "i don't wanna leave bunny," heather quietly said, and you could tell she was getting scared, but you didn't know how to turn this into a game or a story, and only a nervous stammer left your lips.

"i'll come back to let you know when you can take your clothes off," the man said, eyeing your body in a way that made you want to poke his eyes out. "try anything funny and i'll make you watch as we eat her," he whispered in your ear, almost making you gag from the way his hot, stinky breath hit your neck. you stared daggers at him as he laughed and left through the back door. "i'll be right outside," he said all too cheery.

you felt grossed out. the only difference between these people and walkers was that they were alive and aware, and that thought alone made you feel more uneasy.

"daddy!" heather squealed happily, making you turn your head so fast you were surprised you didn't break your neck, but you only found her reaching for the crossbow on the table of weapons. how did you miss it? It was daryl's crossbow, no doubt. with the little stick figures that heather drew on one side. "nama, daddy's here!"

"yeah," you said almost breathlessly as you grabbed the weapon. "he is," you said, still processing the new information.

"let's go get him!" heather declared, but a loud explosion made both of you jump, heather let out a little scream, hugging you again before she started crying. you held her as you slowly approached the door to hear the commotion outside, hearing the guys that were on guard rush away.

you opened the door, seeing nothing but chaos outside.

you closed it again, setting heather down and kneeling to talk to her. "okay, baby, right now we're going to get away, okay? we're going to run. it's red, got it, honey?" you said as calmly as you could manage. She nodded as you gently dried her tears.

"okay," she whispered. "i trust you, mama," she said holding you tightly.

after a few seconds, you rushed to grab your bow and arrows, as well as daryl's crossbow, slinging each on one shoulder before grabbing a machete that was on the table also. you held heather who wrapped her little arms around your neck, hiding her face in your neck with her eyes shut so she wouldn't have to see anything.

everything felt in slow motion when you stepped outside, stabbing in the head the walkers you came across almost robotically, adrenaline and fear rushing through your veins, and trying to find a way out without being bitten. though a gap in the fence you managed to get heather through, and you carefully climbed over it.

you walked for about ten minutes until you heard voices. daryl's voice among them. heather's wide eyes made contact with yours, and she pointed to where the noise could be heard from.

"heather and (y/n)?" your hunter asked.

"yeah! i saw them, i thought they were behind us. i called them. they probably didn't hear me!" carl explained, a hint of stress and sadness in his voice.

"the're still there, i'm goin' back for 'em," daryl announced.

you whispered something for heather to say, which she repeated brightly: "you're probably gonna need this!" her tiny voice made all eyes turn to look at you immediately. there were some new faces, but you were only focused on daryl.

his teary eyes made contact with yours, his breathing was heavy, and his lip trembled. you stared at each other for a minute until his gaze dropped to heather and he finally broke down. heather and you ran to him, he and you kneeling for a family hug. "daddy!" heather called happily, eyes closed from the big smile she wore.

you were finally home—the three of you were. his arms protectively around his two girls as heather beamed peppering his father's and mother's faces with sweet kisses, drying your tears too. she didn't understand why you cried when she was so happy, but she didn't question it.

impulsively, he held your face softly with his free hand and his lips met yours. it was a peck, quick so he could pull away before you reacted in case it wasn't welcomed, but you grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him in again, pouring all the emotion both had been too blind to notice before into the kiss.

you only pulled away when you heard heather giggle next to you.

taking a proper look at her daddy now up close, she gasped, looking at his blackeye. "mama, daddy got a owie," she pouted, "mama gonna make it better," she told her father, placing a hand on his shoulder in utter seriousness—adorable.

"i'm sure mama will," daryl hugged his daughter, meeting your gaze again, but this time his eyes were softer, adoring, and loving, and yours were just the same. heather nodded before his dad tickled her with his beard, making her laugh loudly, which made the rest of the group smile as well.

maybe things weren't perfect yet. life was not perfect, but this moment absolutely was.

[jackhues]

...and maybe it's not love... | oscar piastri

note: here's part 2 <3 i think this will have 3/4 parts, but they might be split up if i reach the picture limit.

prev

pairing: oscar piastri x fem!reader, logan x best friend!reader, one sided!enemies to lovers

faceclaim: various, from pinterest

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youruser

liked by oscarpiastri, y/bffsuser, landonorris & others

youruser: what can i say? i'm a busy gal

user: bae... are you soft launching someone or is this just logan again? -> logansargeant: it's not me -> user: LOGAN MY GLORIOUS AMERICAN KING! WHO IS THIS??

user: why are the f1 boys here?? -> user: bcz she took a picture with oscar and i guess they're all friends now -> user: and it's only lando. quite overreacting

yourmomsig: too busy for family dinner -> youruser: ma if it was only our family i'd have been there. i just wasn't in the mood to deal with aunt griselda -> logansargeant: yeah thanks for that, i had to take ur place -> youruser: love you logie

logansargeant: you know you idiots are so cute it almost makes up for making me have dinner with aunt griselda -> user: stop he calls her aunt, 'aunt' - those two are siblings your honors -> youruser: i already told you i love you... what more do you want?

user: GIRL ARE YOU BACK WITH YOUR EX? -> youruser: ew no

user: come home the kids miss you

user: bae who is this man you're taking pics with? do i have to be jealous? -> youruser: nah we're just friends -> user: YOU MEAN YOU'RE FREAKING US ALL OUT TO TELL US THE MAN DIDN'T EVEN MAKE IT OFFICIAL YET?? -> youruser: i'm actually crying at this comment this is the funniest fucking thing i've ever read- -> oscarpiastri: she has literal tears streaming down her face -> user: ARIANA? WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?

oscarpiastri: too busy of a gal to answer your texts? -> youruser: depends on who it is -> user: guys stop logan's besties are becoming besties- i love this!

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youruser

liked by logansargeant, landonorris, oscarpiastri & others

youruser: signin' out

oscarpiastri: photo creds? -> youruser: no -> user: wait... oscar was at the graduation??????? -> user: i don't think so... he took the first and/or third picture and neither of them are at the ceremony itself. i think he was just invited to the party -> user: quit crushing my dreams girl

logansargeant: proud of you 🤍 -> youruser: love you logie 🤍

landonorris: just in time for hot girl summer -> youruser: 🤪🤪

user: wait i thought she already graduated -> user: this is her law school graduation i think -> user: isn't she like 23?? how?? -> youruser: max course loads + studying during summers! wasn't fun, but i'm FREEEEE

user: girlBOSS

y/bffsuser: i love you !! so so proud -> youruser: i adore you 😘

yourmomsig: love you sweetie, i'm so proud of you -> youruser: love you more ma

user: wait where's the 'friend' she was soft launching a while back -> youruser: we're still going good, trust -> user: lowkey think it's oscar

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yourprivuser

liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri, y/bffsuser & others

youruser: fun night with fun people

tagged: y/bffsuser, oscarpiastri, logansargeant, friend2, friend3, friend4

oscarpiastri: probably the closest i'll be to graduating -> youruser: it's why i graduated twice, once for me, once for you

y/bffsuser: girl my face was not nice in that last pic -> youruser: puhleasee you look hot

logansargeant: i feel like there's someone you need to thank for all of this -> youruser: uhhhh god? -> logansargeant: girlllllll -> youruser: ugh thank you logan hunter sargeant, the greatest american to have ever lived

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f1gossip

liked by user, user, user & others

f1gossip: sources say that oscar piastri was in fort lauderdale between the canadian and brazilian gp. he was most likely there for y/n y/ln's graduation, but we cannot confirm if he attended the ceremony or only the party afterwards. the two know each other through their best friend logan sargeant, and we can confirm that they've only become friends during the miami gp, which is around the same time y/n began soft launching someone she calls a 'friend'

many think her and oscar piastri have started or are starting a relationship, and the belief has been cemented by him attending her graduation party. these pictures look like oscar and y/n going out for dinner with her friends, holding hands at one point, and then hanging out at oscar's hotel afterwards. we cannot confirm or deny that any of these pictures are in fact oscar and y/n as they aren't clear, but they do look similar to them.

for more information on y/n y/ln, check out the link in our bio

tagged: oscarpiastri, youruser, logansargeant

user: i ship them

user: bro who even is she??

user: how much y'all wanna bet she's not even really friends with logan?

user: that doesn't even look like oscar, y'all wilding

user: maybe he's just there to support a friend (in denial)

user: she doesn't look good

user: i don't like them together

user: oscar's too good for her

user: y'all hella interested in people who don't give a shit about you

youruser: wow my very own post on f1gossip- mom look i made it -> yourmomsig: congrats baby -> user: HER MOM ACTUALLY COMMENTED LMAOOOOO -> user: i changed my mind i stan her -> user: guys i really hope she's with oscar -> user: i don't think she is 😢 otherwise she'd probably ignore this post

user: y'all as much as i love them, i doubt they're together- most wags ignore these posts and this chick's out here commenting and calling her mom 💀

--

--

--

Y/N STARED AT THE MCLAREN CAP, unsure if she should wear it. It shouldn't mean anything to the public, just her showing support to one of her new friends. Because to them, that's all Oscar really was. Her friend.

They didn't know about the constant texts, the late night face times, the movie dates while across an ocean from each other. They didn't know about the way her heart would race whenever she saw his text, how he'd make her giggly and blush just by calling her a cute little nickname. They knew nothing.

Besides, she was wearing a Williams Racing shirt in support of Logan. Why should a simple McLaren cap - not even fully papaya colored - mean anything to the public?

"Oh my God, just put the cap on," Logan groaned, making way over and putting it on her head for her.

Y/N rolled her eyes, fixing the cap so it didn't ruin her hair.

"Shut up," she muttered. "I'm just nervous."

"You have no need to be," Logan promised her. "Oscar's going to lose his mind when he sees you in person, turn into a stuttering, stumbling mess, and you're going to be so touched by his awkwardness that you're going fall in love. All in all, it's a win-win situation."

"I don't like you," Y/N rolled her eyes, following Logan out of the hotel and in the car. She had arrived in England a few days ago, but kept a low profile. She missed the first two practices, before deciding to arrive on track for FP3 and quali. She'd also make her way over for the race tomorrow.

The two best friends shared TikToks and reels with each other during the short drive, making their way out of the car and towards the paddock once they arrived. Y/N tried to keep her hands at her sides, away from the McLaren cap on her head. No need to make it obvious. Cameras flashed and recorded videos as her and Logan walked down, making her incredibly nervous.

She felt hot, really hot. And... was she sweating? She resisted the urge to smell.

"You're fine," Logan promised, sensing her inner anxiety. "Nobody's focusing on your cap, they take videos of all the drivers arriving at track. Stop spiraling."

Y/N blinked back to the present at Logan's words, realizing that she was indeed falling into a spiral. It was all going to be okay. Logan was going to be there no matter what.

"Thanks Logie," she smiled. "You're the best."

"Yeah, I know," he nodded to himself.

She rolled her eyes, swatting him in the arm. Arriving outside the Williams' garage, she waved at Alex Albon.

"Hey, Y/N," he jogged over from inside. "How are you? Logan never even told me you're coming."

"I'm great Alex, thanks," she grinned. "And it was a bit of a surprise. I didn't want people to know I was coming here today. I have a job interview in a few days, so I decided why not come early and watch the GP in person."

"Good decision," he laughed. He looked at her cap, "Are you heading inside or heading to McLaren?"

"Uh... I think I'll head over to McLaren," she decided. "I don't want news of my arrival reaching Oscar before I get to surprise him."

Alex raised his brows, before fixing his expression, "Right, you guys finally met at Miami. I take it you became friends, right?"

"Yeah," Y/N nodded, trying not to let her heart eyes show. "I probably should've taken Logan's offer to meet his racing friends years ago. Most of them are pretty cool."

"I hope I'm one of them," Alex joked.

"You're at the top of the list," she winked. "Anyways, I'll catch you guys later on. Don't leave without me Logan."

"Same goes to you," he waved.

Y/N flipped him off, turning to make her way to McLaren garage. She could hear Logan's laughter behind her, making her smile to herself. Who knew when the last time he genuinely laughed on a race weekend even was?

Over the last few months, she'd seen lots of clips of Oscar and Logan hanging out together - more than usual - and usually joining them was Lando. It seemed that the Brit was interested in becoming friends with Logan after Miami, which honestly made her happy.

She arrived outside the McLaren garage, debating if she should head in or wait outside, or maybe just head back to Williams.

Before she could make up her mind, she heard someone make a surprised little noise.

"Y/N?" Lando asked, exiting the garage once he saw her. "You're here? Oscar that little brat, he never even told me you're going to visit."

"That's because he doesn't know," Y/N laughed. "It's a surprise. I kind of insinuated that I wouldn't be able to watch the race at all, but... well, I'm here!"

"Ugh you two are just so absolutely adorable," Lando sighed, slinging an arm over her shoulder. "C'mon, I'll take you to him. He said he's going to talk to his dad, I think."

"His dad's here?" She asked, stopping in her tracks. "Why did no one tell me his dad was going to be here?"

"Quit freaking out," Lando rolled his eyes. "His real dad's not here, I don't think."

"Then who is he — Charles?" Y/N asked. "They're still doing that little bit from Monaco."

Lando pointed to where Oscar was, indeed talking with someone in Ferrari gear. Y/N stood on her tiptoes, recognizing Charles Leclerc and his girlfriend, in the middle of some conversation with Oscar. Leo slept soundly in Alexandra's arms.

"Let's wait for them to finish their conversation," Y/N suggested, feeling bad for coming up to them while they were talking.

"Nope," Lando shook his head, leading her across and closer to Oscar.

"Lando, no, no, no, Lando, I will throw you under one of the cars, no, Lando—"

"Quick, laugh like I said something funny," Lando whispered.

Y/N was so surprised by his request, that she stopped trying to plot his murder.

"Laugh, woman!" Lando muttered.

"Oh, right," Y/N responded.

Trying her best to seem somewhat genuine, she thought of that time Oscar texted her because he walked into a pole. Which made her laugh so hard, she walked into a door.

She giggled at the memory, laughing as the duo approached the others.

Lando, seeing Oscar's head whip over immediately at the sound of her laughter, began giggling too. The two had to stop a few steps away from Oscar, Charles and Alexandra because of how hard they were laughing.

"Did you see— the way he—" Lando couldn't get a sentence out without bursting into another round of laughter.

"Lando, get your shit together," Y/N wiped her eyes, straightening up.

Charles and Alex raised their eyebrows, entirely confused by what was happening a few steps away from them, while Oscar stared at Y/N like she was a mound of gold.

"Okay, okay— never mind, I can't do it," Lando fell into another round of laughter every time he remembered how quickly Oscar looked at her.

"Oh my God," Y/N muttered, sending an apologetic smile towards the trio near them.

She grabbed Lando's arm and dragged him the final few steps, smiling at the small group.

"I'm so sorry about that," she apologized. "Lando here doesn't know how to behave."

At this point, Lando's laughter, which was finally beginning to stop, starting up all over again.

"I'm sorry guys, I'm so sorry," Lando got out. "I'm not laughing at you guys, I promise. I'm laughing at Osc."

"What did I do?" Oscar asked, finally snapping out of whatever trance he'd gone in after hearing Y/N's laughter.

At his question, Lando's laughter came back, this time high pitched and bringing on some tears.

Y/N leaned closer to Oscar, whispering, "Is this normal?"

"Just ignore him," he responded, hoping she couldn't hear his heart beating all over his body. "It'll stop eventually."

"If it doesn't it'll give the rest of us an edge in the race," Charles offered.

"Right, uh Charles, Alexandra, this is Y/N," Oscar introduced them, the group now choosing to ignore Lando as he sat on the floor and laughed some more. "She's uh, a friend of mine, and also Logan's best friend. She usually only comes to Miami, but apparently is here today."

"Surprise!" She grinned.

Oscar smiled, the feeling of her happiness radiating towards him. Maybe he liked surprises a lot more than he realized.

"Logan, uh..."

"Sargeant," Lando supplied to Charles from his spot on the floor, wiping his eyes to clear up some tears. "The one who drives for Williams."

Y/N's smile dipped slightly at the reminder that Charles was another driver who wasn't quite close with Logan. But she brought the smile back immediately, doing her best to be nice.

In fact, it was only because Oscar had his eyes on Y/N the entire time that he noticed the small dip. He didn't know just what it was about, but he remembered her make the same expression when she first met Lando.

"Right, yeah," Charles nodded. "I just wanted to make sure I had the right one. It's nice to meet you, Y/N. I'm Charles, and this is my girlfriend Alex."

"Nice to meet you guys," she smiled again, and it was as if nothing was wrong. She cooed at Leo asleep in Alex's arms, "Aw, cute dog. I've been more of a cat person my whole life, but I love puppies."

"His name's Leo," Alex introduced the dog.

"Oh, he's adorable," she grinned.

"Well, it was nice to meet you Y/N," Charles nodded in her direction. "We've got to go now, but hopefully we'll see you later on. Bye Lando, bye son."

"Bye dad," Oscar laughed.

"Bye," Lando waved at them.

Once they were gone, Y/N looked back at Oscar, only to see him already looking at her.

"Hi," she smiled.

"Hey," he breathed out.

"Oi, you two are being too lovey dovey in front of the cameras," Lando warned them. "Go to the motorhome or something."

Y/N rolled her eyes, but he wasn't wrong. There were much more cameras around McLaren than Williams, and people would be dissecting Y/N and Oscar's every move. Considering they weren't even dating, she wanted to keep the secret for a little while longer.

"Right, uh... you wanna come along, Y/N?" Oscar asked her.

"Sure, I'm not due back at Williams until the end of the day," she shrugged. "I got to return my paddock pass then. Coming, Lando?"

"No thank you," he shook his head. "I like my spot on the floor, and I'd rather not accidentally be a cockblock."

"Lando, we're not going to have sex in Oscar's motorhome," Y/N rolled her eyes.

"We're not?" Oscar asked, a joking glint in his eyes.

"Take me out on a date first, then we'll see," she responded in the same tone, turning towards the motorhome and making her way there.

"Hey, I already asked," he reminded her, catching up. "It's up to you to decide when you're cashing in the rain check."

Y/N tilted her head at him, a small smile making its way to her face. "Tell you what, you win the race tomorrow, I'll go on a date with you the next day."

Oscar smirked, "Well, I have to win the race now."

"Nice to know where your motivation factor lies."

The two arrived outside the room, and Oscar opened the door for her.

"What a gentleman," Y/N grinned to herself, entering the small space.

She took a seat on the bed, while Oscar sat in the chair by the desk.

"Are you okay?" Oscar asked once it was just the two of them, no cameras, no Lando, no one else.

"What do you mean?" Y/N asked. "I'm fine."

"You're not fine, there's something bothering you," Oscar noted. "Or it did bother you at one point. When you were talking to Charles and Alex, you frowned at the start of the conversation. Right after I'd introduced you to them. Like, as if you were upset by something they said or did, I don't know."

Y/N frowned again at the reminder of that interaction, before shaking her head quickly to clear her thoughts.

"Nothing, I mean... like it's not a big deal," she tried to explain. "It's just this weird thing about me."

"You know you can trust me with anything, right?"

"I know, Oscar," she sighed. "It's just... it's complicated, I guess."

"If you want to talk about it, I've got time," he responded.

Y/N stared at him, remembering how she thought she hated him just a few months ago. She saw him as an egotistic prick, who'd left her best friend in the dust after stealing him from her. And here he was now... telling her he'd listen to her if she wanted him to.

"I didn't like you for a long time," she confessed.

At Oscar's hurt look, she continued quickly.

"Wait, no, that didn't come out the way I wanted," she closed her eyes. "I mean, like when we were kids, a long, long time ago. Because, for our entire lives, it'd been Logan and I. We did everything together, always. And then he got serious with racing, and he made other friends. Which was fine by me, because I'd always been his best friend. The only one who managed to come close to my position in Logan's eyes, was you. You were the one who'd managed to be one of his closest friends, because of racing, and you were the one who was closest to taking my place. And... well I was jealous. Which was why I often ran away after Logan's races, never stopped to meet you or talk with you, or any of the other drivers.

"And, you know, the years passed, and Logan and I remained close, and the jealousy faded, but then, I don't know. I guess I was embarrassed to talk to you, because I'd been jealous for so long. And then you both went into F1, and I told myself I'd be happy for both of you... but I wasn't, really. You just— I mean, you came into F1, and the love for you was immediate. The fans, your team, the other drivers. They all loved you, and they wanted to talk to you. And Logan... Logan got stuck with a shitty car and a shitty team, and none of the drivers even wanted to talk to him."

She took a deep breath, continuing, "and I know it's not your fault, but I love Logan, okay? Like I'd quite literally give up my life for him, and seeing him constantly in a place where he wasn't being treated fairly, where he wasn't happy.... it hurts. He's here because he loves racing, but every time people talk shit about him or act like he didn't put in so much work to be here, it makes me upset. I was... I don't know, envious of you on behalf of Logan, if that makes sense. And so I kind of ignored you during F1 as well. But then I began talking to you, and that first time I heard you speak, stumbling over your words, I think that's when I realized you were human. Just like Logan. You didn't choose it to be this way and you can't help it. And you know, a lot of times I can forget most of the people out there have never acknowledged Logan, because he's asked me to forget it so many times, but then they remind me that they haven't... and it hurts, Oscar. It hurts to see that. So you know, I'm sorry for judging you before ever even meeting you. That was stupid of me."

Oscar stared at her for a moment, feeling sick at her words. He'd never had someone who he was that close with, not outside of his family. He couldn't even imagine what went through her head every time she saw him, or the other drivers. He didn't blame her for her feelings, she had every right to hate anyone out there.

"Oscar?" she began hesitantly. "Are you... are you alright?"

He got up from his chair, standing in front of her and pulling her close. She immediately wrapped her arms around his waist, melting into his hug.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm sorry that I let it happen."

"Oscar, it's not your fault," she said, her voice muffled by his embrace. "I realize that now, and it's something Logan's always known. He's never blamed you, I don't either. It's just the way life works."

"It's not great," Oscar commented.

"Nah, not really," she agreed. "But it won't stay like this forever."

She wouldn't let it.

--

f1

liked by youruser, logansargeant, y/bffsuser & others

f1: and it's the FIRST career GRAND PRIX WIN for oscar piastri! a daring move by the aussie in the final laps of the race put him ahead of max verstappen and as the leader of the race, where he led quite comfortably to the checkered flag

mclaren: that's our guy!!

user: OSCARRRRR GO OFF

user: LOGAN IN POINTS SOMEONE TALK ABOUT LOGAN IN POINTS -> user: your honor they're boyfriends

youruser: wow a race winner -> oscarpiastri: it was nothing

user: OSCAR OSCAR OSCAR OSCAR

user: someone check on y/n -> user: ???? -> user: well her and oscar might be dating no one knows. but she's besties with logan, and one of them won and the other's in points so she might be celebrating

--

oscarpiastri

liked by youruser, landonorris, logansargeant & others

oscarpiastri: winning the race ➡️ winning in life

user: OSCAR JACK PIASTRI!! WHO IS THIS???

user: mans just dropped a whole bomb and left

user: boy isn't responding to ANYONE -> user: he said 'look at my girl' and then dipped

user: y'all that's y/n i'm calling it -> user: no she looks too tall in the second pic -> user: i think she's wearing heels

user: oscar get your ass back on this app and answer the peoples' questions -> oscarpiastri: no.

youruser: ugh i love her nails -> oscarpiastri: 🙄 she said thanks babe -> youruser: your girl loves me more than you -> oscarpiastri: i'm afraid it may be so

user: NAH IT AINT Y/N! LOOK AT HER COMMENTS

user: y/n bestie boo tell us who oscar's new girl is -> youruser: no.

user: y/n and oscar are hilarious bcz she's been soft launching her 'friend' for months and now oscar's hiding a whole girlfriend from us -> user: i see what logan meant when he said they're too similar but also completely opposite

user: i still think the girl's y/n

--

--

youruser:

liked by y/bffsuser, logansargeant, landonorris & others

youruser: summer of 24... you were definitely one for the books

tagged: oscarpiastri

user: YOU'VE BEEN SOFTLAUNCHING OSCAR ALL ALONG????

user: the way i didn't actually see this one coming

user: I FUCKING KNEW ITT

oscarpiastri: best summer yet 🩷 -> youruser: got me blushing and shii

logansargeant: i'd like a written thank you card for being the reason you two are together -> youruser: no 🤍

user: i just KNOW logan's been their biggest shipper

yourmomsig: cutiess

--

oscarpiastri

liked by youruser, charles_leclerc, logansargeant & others

oscarpiastri: it's been ten years in the making

tagged: youruser

user: SHUT UP

user: wait they've been dating for TEN YEARS??!! -> user: no i think he had a crush on her for like ten years

youruser: i adore you 🩷 -> oscarpiastri: it's hard not to adore me

youruser: s i m p -> oscarpiastri: are you complaining? -> youruser: no

logansargeant: again. am i getting a thank you at all??? -> oscarpiastri: sorry my future wife said no -> youruser: jasdjfakhfrshgous -> user: nah she real for that- i'd do the same if oscar said that about me

user: she needs to lose some weight

user: ew why does she smile like that

user: MOM AND DAD

landonorris: i'd also like a thank you for not being a cockblock -> oscarpiastri: no.

--

f1gossip

liked by user, user, user & others

f1gossip: well it's officially been confirmed by oscar piastri and y/n y/ln that they are dating and have been together for at least the summer. it's unclear when they began dating, but we can assume it was after the miami grand prix, where it is believed that they met for the first time.

y/n y/ln is the childhood best friend of logan sargeant, and has took to social media multiple times to defend him. she has completed law school, and we believe she works in england, which is where oscar is located at the moment. for more information on y/n y/ln and the timeline of her and oscar piastri's relationship, check the link in our bio

user: bro who cares

user: i thought this was a driver gossip page not the wags

user: what does oscar see in her? -> user: right like she has to have bewitched him

user: i love her she's such a girlboss

user: idk how oscar does it. my brain would stop working once she smiled at me

user: something about their relationship screams pr to me -> user: like wdym they only met in miami bcz fans wanted them to and now they're dating -> user: nah that's sketchy

--

--

notes: well here's the anticipated part 2!! i hope you guys enjoy it! if you'd like to be added to my tag list, please comment on part one of this series just so all the comments are in one place. let me know what you guys think of this part in the comments + reblogs <3

and again my tags don't always work, so you might want to follow my writing tag 'naqia writes!' or the tag for this short series 'the bsf of my bsf! series' so they show up on your dash at some point :)

don't forget to like AND reblog!!

tags: @ravisinghs-wife , @urfavsgf , @mxdi0 , @lemon-lav , @lilipiggytails , @stinkyjax , @blckgrl-sunflower , @littlemisssummer , @dreamsarebig , @k-pevensie28 , @themislovesf1 , @hellowgoodbye , @chezmardybum , @5sospenguinqueen , @charlotte1697 , @stylestastic , @sie17136 , @2lsargeant , @softpiastri <33

[apclyptc]

DUMB— chris sturniolo x reader

synopsis: reader is smart and top of her class in college. chris however, is not too interested in her intelligence.

warnings: full on smut, swearing and also drinking/smoking, use of the pet name baby, use of the word slut, dumbification, oral (f! receiving), unprotected sex

“hit her from the back she can’t do nothing but yell,

and she smart as fuck i got this bitch straight out of yale”

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

Ever since you were younger, you seemed to have a gift for memorising and holding information. Because of this, people assumed you studied constantly.

Obviously, you did study. But it wasn’t like you didn’t have a social life. You enjoyed college parties like any other person would.

So when a guy in your class invited you to his frat house for a party, of course you didn’t refuse.

The only thing was, this guy just happened to be Chris.

He was in your social studies class, usually sat at the very back with a couple of his friends in the lecture. You knew of each other, having shared mutual friends from other classes. You’d never really spoken to him one-to-one, mainly because he was always socialising with pretty much everyone, and while you weren’t shy, you also weren’t a huge fan of jumping into conversations with people who all knew each other prior.

It also didn’t help that Chris was the most attractive man you had seen in college, or maybe in your life.

You were good at hiding it, but he made you nervous. Of course, when he invited you to his fraternity house, you faked an air of confidence so you didn’t weird him out.

“Hey, it’s Y/N, right?” Chris began, and when you affirmed with a nod he continued, “I’m throwing a party tonight, you should come.” He threw a smile in your direction, and you pushed down the immediate feeling of giddiness before answering.

“Yeah sure, sounds good. When does it start?” You asked nonchalantly as you could.

“Around 10. You can come whenever, it will be on way into the morning anyway.”

“Great. Am I good to bring a couple friends?” You replied, not wanting to walk into a party alone.

“Yeah that’s fine with me. Ask your friend Lola, my buddy Nate has a thing for her. Just don’t tell him I told you that.” He smirked at you.

That smirk. You wished you could see that smirk while he was hovering over you as he sla—

“Lola, yeah! I’ll bring her along with me.” You snapped out of your less than decent reverie and gave Chris a response.

“Perfect. I’ll see you there, Y/N.” He gave a quick glance up and down your body before turning and walking away from you.

It was then you realised, you had absolutely nothing to wear. Plus, since Chris just personally asked you, you decided you may as well dress as hot as possible.

Y/N: hey lola, frat party tonight?

Lola: do u even have to ask??? usually it’s me dragging u to these things

Y/N: true lmao. i’m gonna need to borrow something from ur closet

Lola: ooooh why, do u need smth slutty?

Y/N: maybe

maybe i was personally invited by the party thrower

Lola: who

Y/N: chris 😇

Lola: GIRL-

ok ok i’ll give u the sluttiest thing i can find

come over later and we can pick something out for u

A couple of hours later once you were finished at college, you headed to your best friend Lola’s dorm.

You two had spent what seemed like hours choosing each other’s outfits.

“By the way, a little birdie told me that Nate has a thing for you.” You eyed Lola up, knowing she had a soft spot for him.

“Oh, really? That’s interesting. Totally unrelated but would you still happen to have that box of condoms I gave you for secret santa last year?” Lola gave you a suggestive look, raising her eyebrows.

“Of course. Already put two in my bag.” You both laughed.

You arrived at the party at 11:27, mainly because no one turns up to a party on time, but also because Lola took a ridiculous amount of time to get ready.

You met up with a couple of girls from the dorms opposite Lola, seeing as they were also invited.

As soon as you arrived, you were immediately shown to the kitchen where an array of bottles were displayed.

Vodka, whiskey, rum, tequila and practically any spirit you could think of, were decorated around the kitchen.

You grabbed two cups, one for you and Lola, and filled it with vodka and soda.

“Hey, I think I see Nate and Chris over there.” Lola points behind you through to the games room, where lo and behold, Nate and Chris were playing what looked like an intense game of beer pong.

The two of you walked over to them, Nate noticing you first.

“Hey! Come help me win the game, Lola.” He gestured for her to play with him.

Chris had then turned around to see you, that smirk appearing yet again.

“You gonna help me?”

You took a quick swig of the contents in your cup before joining Chris at the table.

“Atta girl. Nice of you to bring Lola for my bro.” He spoke in a low voice so that only you could hear.

“Chris, stop flirting and throw the damn ball.” Nate teased, and you felt your cheeks grow red.

Chris threw the ball into the cup closest to him, the object landing into the beer and making a splash.

“Drink up, fool.” he glanced at you to make sure you were watching.

After a while, you had enough to drink to give you a confidence boost, and were now invested in the game of beer pong.

It was down to one cup each, and you had to make the final shot.

“Come on, Y/N,” Chris spoke from behind you, “you got it.”

It was too hard to concentrate with his voice so close to your ear, and his body so close to yours. You threw the ball, but it narrowly missed the cup.

“Yes! Chris you’re a loser!” Nate laughed at his best friend across from the table, throwing his arm around Lola who had locked eyes with you as he did this.

‘Don’t forget the condom’, you mouthed to her playfully, and she winked, pointing to her pocket.

Nate and Lola had then disappeared together, leaving you alone with Chris.

“Sorry I missed the cup.” You joked.

“Apology accepted. You wanna smoke with me?” He pulled out a perfectly rolled joint from his pocket.

You weren’t a huge smoker, only joining with Lola occasionally when you felt like unwinding.

Nevertheless you agreed, deciding you may as well since you were at a party.

Chris lead you upstairs into his room. Your eyes immediately glanced around the room, taking in its appearance.

Chris sat on the edge of his bed, and you followed.

“Could you get my lighter, it’s in the top drawer over there.” He pointed to the bedside table at the wall, and you grabbed the device, passing it to him which he thanked you for.

“Lola and Nate seem to hit it off.” You spoke.

Chris held the joint between his lips, lighting it before replying, “he’s down bad for her. Has been for a while.”

You giggled to yourself, knowing Lola felt the same about him. It was a good feeling for you, because you knew Nate was a nice guy.

“They’re a good match. Nate’s a good guy for her." You responded, watching Chris take the first hit of weed and exhaling the thick smoke.

“Yeah? Is that what you’re into? Nice guys?” He asked you, taking another hit before passing it to you.

You took the joint from his hand and inhaled.

“I guess. I think I prefer someone more… unpredictable.” You had Chris in mind as you answered. You had yet to figure out why he invited you here himself, since you didn’t know each other that well.

“In what way?”

“I don’t know, someone I can’t figure out. I like to be kept on my feet, someone like Nate is easy to understand because he’s straightforward. Which is great for Lola, she deserves someone who is like that.” You thought about all the past few guys Lola had a thing with. They weren’t that nice.

You passed the joint back to Chris who had his eyes trained on you as you spoke.

“So you like the tension, not knowing when or if someone wants you.” He tried to understand.

“Yeah. Don’t get me wrong, it’s nice when it’s easy. But..” You trailed off.

“It’s more fun not to know.” Chris finished your trail of thought as if he knew the feeling.

“Exactly.”

A comfortable silence sat between you, passing the joint back and forth until it was gone.

“I have a question.” You asked, breaking the silence.

Chris tapped the joint out on his bedside table, and brought his attention back to you, “Go ahead.”

“Why did you invite me here? I mean, it’s not that I didn’t want to come, it’s just that we haven’t really talked much.” You asked, needing to know.

Chris chuckled.

“I thought it was more fun not to know?” He smirked, using your own logic against you.

“Come on! Tell me.” You persisted.

Chris leaned in closer to you, and you could swear your heart was beating out of your chest.

“I always see you in class,” He began to explain, continuing to close the gap between you, “sitting close to the front, answering all the questions. You’re pretty smart, aren’t you?”

The tension was palpable, and you felt yourself grow wetter as his low voice penetrated your ears.

“I want an answer.” He demanded.

“I- I guess so.” Your voice wavered, all of a sudden finding it hard to speak.

“I’ve always wanted to see how long it takes until I can make you speechless.”

And it surely didn’t take long, because in moments his lips were on yours.

It was as if every guy you had dated never existed, the feeling of Chris kissing you overrode any experience you had thus far.

His left hand rested on the back of your neck while his other hand took the opportunity to roam around your body, from your thighs to your chest, until it landed on your waist.

Your hands swiftly made their way to his arm and hair, while deepening the kiss he had started.

In a quick movement he lifted you onto his lap, letting both his hands find purchase on your waist.

With your arms wrapped around his neck, you slowly moved your hips rhythmically, earning a soft grunt from him.

Pulling away, he spoke, “You want to do this?”

You nodded, before asking the same of him.

“Do you?”

That same smirk that sent you reeling reappeared again.

“Does this answer your question?” He grinded his hips upwards into you, allowing you to feel his growing hard-on.

A whine escaped from your lips.

“No more talking.”

You reconnected your lips to his, the energy of the room turning into heated passion.

Chris’ hands slowly dragged down to your ass, kneading them with roughness.

You whined again, unable to stop any sounds from leaving your mouth.

The sound of the ongoing party downstairs could be faintly heard from inside the room, but you paid it no mind. You couldn’t, not while Chris had all his attention on you.

He briefly paused to take off the top you were wearing, and then resumed with his skilled tongue, sliding against yours. He took you off his lap, not separating from you for a moment as he laid you down on your back.

“Such a smart girl in class,” he pulled his shirt over his head and threw it behind him, “Does anyone know that you’re really just a little slut?” He kissed your neck, then your jaw.

“I need an answer.” Chris demanded again, and you rubbed your thighs together in want.

“No.” You breathed.

“No, what?” His hand glided up your thigh, separating them.

“I’m not a slut.” You managed to find words.

“So if I reach in between your legs, right now, you won’t be dripping for me?”

You knew you were.

A hand snaked through your skirt, pulling aside your underwear, and he slowly dragged a finger down your pussy.

“I’ve barely touched you. Do you want me to? Want me to touch you right here?” His finger, coated in your slickness, inched its way inside, just enough for you to feel it, but not enough to satisfy you.

You bucked your hips up, trying to feel something, anything.

But Chris pulled his hand away, causing you to whine in frustration.

Luckily for you, he wanted to feel you so badly, he couldn’t tease you for long. He grabbed the hem of your skirt, pulling it down your legs and threw it in the same direction as his shirt.

“I want to hear you. You love opening that mouth when we’re in class.” And with that, he pulled your underwear aside and attached his mouth straight to your throbbing clit.

All you could do was moan and writhe in his bed as he delved into your wet cunt, licking up all the arousal like a starved man.

Your hands flew to his hair, tugging on it desperately. The vibrations from the groan that left his mouth sent waves of pleasure tearing through your body.

Chris’ hands dug into the flesh of your thighs as they instinctively tried to close around his head.

“Fuck, right there!” You moaned loudly as his tongue dove inside your hole.

One of his hands left your thigh and drew circles on your clit, causing you to arch your back at the white-hot pleasure you felt from his ministrations.

Chris could feel his dick pulsate through his pants at the sounds you were making. He needed to feel you.

“You want me to fuck you, huh? Fill you up good?” He asked, and you knew by now he wanted an answer.

“Please, please, please.” Were the only words you could muster, too high on the feeling Chris had given you with his mouth.

He wasted no time on giving you what you were begging for, quickly discarding his pants and boxers, along with your bra and soaked panties.

Lining himself up with your entrance, he slid his dick over the slick of your pussy and pushed the tip in.

Your eyes had shut in anticipation, but when he made no attempt to move you opened your eyes to look at him.

He had waited until you made eye contact with him before pushing his entire dick inside you.

You both moaned at the full feeling, your walls contracting around him.

After a few seconds, Chris began to move.

Thrusting in and out at a slow pace as if to torture you, he shuddered, revelling in the feeling of your tight cunt.

“Fuck, feels so good baby.” You whined at the pet name, bringing his face down so you could kiss him again.

He started picking up the pace after this, your tongues smashing together in absolute need.

“Faster, faster.” You babbled, drunk off the sensation of his cock piston in and out of you.

“Yeah? You want me to fuck you dumb?” He grunted, loving how you could barely string full sentences together.

“Yes, yes, please. Need you deeper.”

The dirty words spilling from your mouth caused him to moan, and he flipped you onto all fours.

“Wanna see that pretty little ass bounce while I fuck you.” He muttered as he entered you yet again.

His pace was relentless, his balls slapping against you from the way he was pounding deep inside you.

You were just making sounds as you tried to say “Harder, faster, more,” but the words couldn’t form properly.

“The slut wants more? Can’t even speak but you’re begging for more?” He taunted you from behind.

You felt a sharp slap on your ass, followed by a soothing rub directly after. You practically yelled as Chris’ hand came down, your cunt convulsing.

“Knew you’d like that,” he slapped your cheek again, “Can feel you squeezing around me.”

You could feel the knot in your stomach unraveling, and you knew you wouldn’t last longer.

“Chris, gonna cum.” You managed to speak between moans.

“Come on baby, need you to cum while I’m inside you.” He groaned, trying to hold his own release off.

His words guided you right to your orgasm, shaking and crying while you came.

“Fuck, you want my cum inside you? Want me to stuff you full?” His pace was losing rhythm, chasing his orgasm while simultaneously overstimulating you.

“Mm, cum inside me. Want to feel it.” You cried, thrusting into him so you could feel more of him.

“So good, feels so good. Oh, I’m gonna cum inside of you,” Chris rambled, “Gonna fill you up with it.”

His moans were uncontrollable, spilling out of him as he relished in the warm feeling of your pussy.

“Cumming.” He grunted, as ropes of his cum spurted out, coating your insides until there was nothing left.

You both took the time to catch your breath, as Chris pulled out of you with a shaky sigh.

“Let me get you a towel.”

You turned onto your back once more, trying to comprehend the mind blowing sex you just had while dozens of people were partying downstairs.

Chris came back with a towel, cleaning the both of you up and passing you your underwear back.

“Hey.” You finally spoke, tired from all the stamina you had just burned.

“Hey.” He replied back to you.

“That was… amazing.” You sighed.

“Yeah, it was fun.”

You weren’t sure if he wanted you to leave now, or if you were supposed to stay, so you opted to do nothing.

“Let me take you on a date.” He announced, and you laughed.

“Don’t you think we’ve done this all a little backwards?”

Chris smiled and brought your head to his shoulder.

“I guess I’m just unpredictable.”

You then remembered you didn’t even use the condom you brought with you. You’d have to make your first date with Chris a trip to the pharmacy.

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

a/n haha…. always wear a condom, kids!

hope you enjoyed my first oneshot.

send me any requests you want me to write! i think i’m gonna do an nsfw alphabet next, for chris and matt too

[quin-ns]

Neighborhood Dilf (Joel Miller x Reader)

Word count: 2.7K

Summary: joel finds out he has a nickname and he asks you what it means

Tags: pre-outbreak this is a happy fic guys!! I didn’t specify a year but let’s put it at 2000 for funsies so sarah is like 11 and joel is like 30ish. also fluff, humor, flirting, age gap, goofy plot (I don’t know what this is honestly), joel being the definition of a dilf and not knowing it, crushes, overall cuteness. also suburbia

A/N: I saw a tiktok where someone said they just knew joel was the neighborhood dilf and they were so real for that I had to write it. and no I don’t care that the word was popularized online we’re using it here. I’m here to provide a cute fluffy fanfic not a historically accurate one lol. also sorry if your name is bee, I tried to come up with a name for the friend that was a nickname so if it was someone’s actual name they could just imagine their full name (I overthink)

cross-posted to ao3 • tlou masterlist • main masterlist

The loud music coming from outside woke you up from your afternoon nap. After spending a semester at college struggling to find even an hour of sleep, you were taking as many of those as possible. You were a little grouchy at first as you threw your covers off and stormed to your window, but quickly calmed down when you realized it was the annual block party your neighborhood hosted during the summer.

You’d gotten an in-person invite from Bee, another girl home from college who you’d been friends with in high school before going your separate ways. You still kept in touch since she was nice enough, which is how you found out her family was hosting this year. She’d confided in you personally that she would quote “go crazy if it was all kids and old people.”

As you looked out into their front yard, which was diagonal to yours, you saw that’s pretty much all it was. Since you were such a good friend, you decided that you’d go. 

You were getting dressed (at a leisurely pace) when your phone started to ring. You picked it up from your desk after you pulled your pink sundress on and flipped it open. The caller ID read Bee’s name and you answered, ready to tell her you were on your way.

“He’s here,” she said, sounding mistified, before you could even open your mouth. 

“Who?” you wondered, furrowing your brows a little to yourself as you went to the window.

“The neighborhood dilf,” Bee replied under her breath. 

The nickname made you laugh. It reminded you of high school. It had started as a joke, something you had started calling the new guy who’d moved into the neighborhood with his daughter a few years back. Later you found out his name was Joel Miller, but the nickname spread like wildfire to all the other girls in the neighborhood and it just stuck. 

Everyone knew about it; the girls of course, their confused parents, jealous boys who thought Joel was stealing their attention—the only person who wasn't aware of the moniker (as far as you knew) was Joel. Well, you hoped his daughter didn’t know either. Thankfully, after time, everyone forgot that you had started it. It was a bit embarrassing.

You walked away from the window to your closet and slid on your flip flops—it was summer in Texas, after all.

“You need to get over here, Y/N—what?” the last word sounded distant from the phone. “Yeah, she’s supposed to be on her way,” Bee replied, but to someone else.

“Um, hello?” you asked, waiting.

Bee was quiet for a few seconds, then whisper shouted into the phone, “you’ll never guess what just happened!”

“Let me guess, Joel just walked up and professed his love for you,” you teased, laughing at your own joke. “What, were my parents asking for me or something?” you guessed for real that time, recalling the small bit you had heard her say.

“Unfortunately no, and also no,” she sounded a little too disappointed about the first part, which made you chuckle again. “He did just ask me about you though.”

“Who?”

“The dilf.”

“Just use his name,” you told her with a roll of your eyes, heading out of your room to the stairs. “Wait.” You stopped for a second. “Joel asked about me?” 

“Yeah. I changed my mind, you’re not invited.”  If it wasn’t for her obvious sarcasm you might’ve thought she was serious. “He heard me say your name and asked if you’d be here soon. I—hey!” she yelled, causing you to pull the phone from your ear for a second. You continued your descent down the stairs as she yelled something about ‘kids’ and ‘stay out of there’. “I gotta go,” she said suddenly, then hung up.

You just shook your head with a small, amused smile and left your phone on the counter. Stupid dress and no pockets. 

You headed out the front door and walked across the street towards the party. 

It was in full swing. Music, games, food table—it looked like something out of a magazine. The Grants had a huge front yard—it was one of the nicer houses in the neighborhood—and it seemed like everyone was there. There were kids running around, adults all mingling—some sitting at the fold out tables, others walking around, others chasing their kids—there was also a group of dads surrounding the grill. You glanced that way and didn’t see Joel. You wondered where he was and if you should find him, but Bee found you first.

“The kids aren’t supposed to go inside alone and two of those little jerks went into my room,” Bee complained right away, straightening out her white blouse over her jean shorts. Her pinned back brown hair was a little messy, though. You wondered what happened, which she quickly answered. “I saw them jumping on my bed through the window.”

“Sounds like fun,” you commented sarcastically. Bee looped her arm through yours. 

“My dad set up ring toss and it’s all little kids, I don’t wanna be the only adult playing. Come on.” She dragged you along in that direction and you willingly went with.

You saw a few kids from the neighborhood playing, mostly the preteens who were too old for hopscotch but whose parents had told them they weren't old enough for the mini golf (one of the boys had overshared that little comment). 

“Y/N!” a girl's voice called. You looked that way and saw Sarah Miller walking towards you. A few days out of the week when her dad was working late, you’d go over to their house and keep an eye on her (before you left for college). It was the easiest babysitting gig you ever had; she was polite, always did her school work, and hardly caused any problems. Her dad had raised her very well. 

She looked older than you remembered her being, but you had been gone for both fall and spring semesters—well, you had been home for winter break briefly, but not enough to see anyone other than your parents.

“Sarah, hi!” you greeted, accepting the hug she offered when she got close. “How are you?”

“Good!” she said with a smile. “Are you guys gonna play with us?” she asked you and Bee. “I keep beating them and it’s not fun anymore.” 

You and Bee both laughed at that. “Sure, why not.”

“It feels weird playing with her after talking about how hot her dad is,” Bee whispered in your ear when Sarah went first. “You think he’ll come over here?”

“And what would you do if he did?” you challenged while hiding a chuckle, raising your brows at her.

“Um, probably nothing,” she admitted, cheeks a little pink. “He’s fun to look at though.” 

You hummed. “You’re not wrong.” 

The two of you played a few rounds of ring toss, although Bee got very bored quickly. “Can we go get some drinks?” she asked after not that long of playing.

“Sure,” you decided. You waved bye to Sarah and the others as the two of you walked off towards the cooler.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed some of the other girls in the neighborhood that hadn’t been in attendance before. For a couple that you knew, it didn’t seem like their scene. 

“What are they doing here?” you asked Bee.

“I may or may not have also told them the neighborhood dilf was here. They, uh, wanted to… see him,” she answered, avoiding eye contact.

You raised your brows in slight disbelief. “Are you serious?” 

“I wanted more people our age here,” Bee defended. “I wasn’t sure if you were even gonna show.”

You scoffed out a laugh. “You’re ridiculous,” you told her.

You reached the cooler and knelt down. You handed Bee a water, but she didn’t accept it. You looked up at her.

“Keep an eye out for the dilf, I haven’t seen him in a while. I’ll be right back,” Bee told you, taking off before you could say anything. You guessed the bathroom given her speed walking inside.

You laughed a little to yourself as you stood back up. You kept the water for yourself. You looked out amongst the crowd, realizing you were now on your own while everyone was in groups. You saw a couple people you were friends with and thought of maybe going up and joining them, but someone else spotted you first.

Joel Miller, the aforementioned neighborhood dilf, was walking towards you. Bee would be jealous, especially if she knew you and Joel were actually friends.

You had thought about telling Bee and some of the other girls that you were friends with Joel, given how much they just loved to gossip about him (how he was still single, how he looked really good in his pajamas getting the mail, that one time he took his shirt off while mowing the lawn—that was a big day) but then you thought better of it, not wanting to be run out of town by a jealous mob.

You were already getting glances by the time Joel stopped by your side so maybe your humbleness was pointless.

“Saw you all alone, thought I’d come keep you company,” Joel broke the ice with ease.

How long had he been watching you? The thought made your cheeks feel warm.

“Wow, what a gentleman,” you teased lightly, causing Joel to chuckle.

“I try,” he joked back, shooting you a small wink.

When you had first met Joel you were nervous around him. It was much easier to talk to him now that the two of you had become friends rather than acquaintances. He was an easy guy to get along with and you found yourself genuinely enjoying his company rather than just gawking at him in his yard from your window (like you used to do in high school). Your crush hadn’t disappeared though, so you joked around with him as a way to keep things casual and avoid getting in your own head. 

“Sarah told me you were finally here, she was happy to see you,” Joel mentioned with a light smile.

That made you smile back. “She’s a sweet kid,” you told him. “I was happy to see her too.”

You fiddled with the water bottle in your hand as you spoke, trying to unscrew the cap. The stupid thing was stuck and after a few seconds you gave up.

Joel gave you an amused look, glancing between your face and hands. “You want help with that?”

“Yes, please,” you handed it to him. “There you go again, proving chivalry isn’t dead. Thank you.”

Joel unscrewed the cap with ease and handed it back. “Happy to be at your service.”

“So, you guys been here a while?” you asked, sparking up conversation.

“Not too long, only an hour or so. It’s been fun though,” Joel explained. “More for Sarah than for me,” he admitted, glancing around to find his daughter. He spotted her and she waved, then continued playing with her friends.

“Why’s that?” you wondered, looking up at him just as he looked down at you. 

“Just… I mean, everyone is nice and all,” he started. “But I just feel like I got nothin’ to talk about with them, y’know? Except you.”

“Really?” You tried to not sound too thrown off by that, but you didn’t know he felt like that. It was interesting to say the least. 

“Is that such a surprise?” he wondered, raising an eyebrow curiously.

You shrugged. “Maybe a little. I get it though, I haven’t really talked to anyone other than Bee yet.”

“I don’t know if you’re friends with them, but I saw a bunch of girls your age walking around,” Joel said as a suggestion. 

“Nah, I’d rather just talk to you,” you said casually, before you could even think about what you had said. The look on Joel’s face changed a little, like he was trying to bite back a bigger smile.

“Well, that’s nice to hear,” he said after a moment. Your eyes met his and the way he looked at you made your heart skip a beat. You had to look away to be able to breathe, almost certain you were reading into things. You really, really did not want to be disappointed.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” Joel said, making you realize you hadn’t spoken yet.

“Sure, yeah.”

“You know… young person lingo, don't you?”

You laughed at the awkward wording. If it had been any of the other adults here using the word “lingo” you would’ve cringed, but there was something cute about the way Joel said it. You tried to snap that thought out of your head.

“Mostly, yeah,” you replied with a little chuckle paired with a curious tone. “What’s up?”

“Do you know what a dilf is?” he asked bluntly. That alone told you he had no idea. 

You were so stunned, all you could think to say was, “why?”

“Well, those girls I mentioned… I overhead some of them calling me that,” he explained, his eyebrows furrowing a little. “It’s not bad, is it?” 

Was this karma coming back to you for starting the nickname? It wouldn’t have surprised you. 

“It’s not bad, no,” you assured while also avoiding the main question.

“What is it then?” Joel’s interest was piqued now and while you couldn’t blame him, you also couldn’t think of a way to make this not weird.

“It’s an acronym,” you started. Joel watched you intently, waiting for an explanation. “It means dad I’d like to…” you trailed off, hinting at him the word to fill in the blank.

Joel just looked even more confused. “To what?”

Somehow he made cluelessness incredibly attractive.

Screw it, you thought. This was already weird. Rip the bandaid off, right? “Fuck,” you finished before you could think better of it. 

“Oh,” he stated. You knew it took a second for realization to hit. “Oh. So that means they, um,”

“It’s basically like saying you’re hot,” you explained, filling in when he couldn’t. You hoped he wouldn’t find it insulting or anything like that.

Joel looked a little bashful but found amusement in the situation nonetheless. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“You should,” you suggested, then sipped your water. You looked out at the people milling about rather than meeting his gaze.

“Do you think I’m one?”

You nearly choked on your water. “What?”

“Sorry,” Joel apologized quickly, trying to laugh it off. “I shouldn't've asked that.”

“It’s alright,” you assured him. You paused for a minute, contemplating what you might say to that. You got a rush of bravery. “If you’re asking if I think you’re attractive… the answer is yes.”

Joel couldn’t hold back his smile. He tried, but it was a failed effort. It was like he was trying to contain his anticipation. “What about if I wanted to ask you out? What would your answer be then?”

“Yes.”

Joel grinned. “I was hoping you’d say that,” he admitted. 

“Dad!” Sarah’s voice caused the two of you to look away from one another. You saw her running up to you guys and hoped she hadn’t heard a word of your conversation. “Can you come play with me? Mr. Grant just set up a bean bag toss!” 

“Sure, kiddo,” he told her. She grabbed his hand and started to drag him away. 

You smiled a little to yourself at the interaction—he was such a good dad.

Joel slowed her down a little bit to look back at you. “I’ll call you later, okay?” 

“Sounds good,” you replied, chuckling lightly. 

The Millers disappeared into the roaming people. You tried to follow them with your gaze but your attention got torn away.

“Waiting in a line for the bathroom in my own house is messed up,” Bee said, popping out seemingly out of nowhere. “What’s got you so happy?” she wondered, eyeing the smile on your face that couldn’t be erased.

“You won’t believe what just happened,” you replied. A part of you still couldn’t believe it. “I’ve got a date with the neighborhood dilf.”

joel taglist: @the-ice-frozen-ground-red-rose @dontphunkwithmylove @cilliansangel @amethystwonders11 @frogsmuahh037 @andy-rocks @melllinaa @alitaar @melanie451 @b00kw0rmsworld @reverieisaway @avengersfan25 @aheadfullofsteverogers @strangeh0rizons @spideysimpossiblegirl @shannonmariebee

if you would like to be added to the joel taglist just send me an ask or a message! <3

[munsonsmixtapes]

Something More

fuckboy!Eddie x fem!reader

summary: you and Eddie have been hooking up with each other for a while and have unknowingly been falling from each other. After overhearing him talking with his friends, you’re convinced that he only sees you as a hook up, but he’s more than willing to show you just how down bad he is for you.

based on a comment from this post!

cw: hurt/comfort

If anyone had asked if you liked Eddie Munson romantically, you would have easily said yes, gushing about how sweet he was despite his reputation for being an asshole. You told anyone who would listen. Everyone besides Eddie, that is. You had been afraid to tell him even though your romantic attraction to each other had only gotten stronger every time you hooked up.

You could tell he was becoming interested by the way your hook ups when he started out by kissing you instead of it all just being penetrative. With the way he held onto you gently as he slowly thrusted into you, nothing but encouraging words falling from his lips.

You and Eddie had also been hanging out outside of hooking up, catching a movie here and there or just cuddling in his bed to watch a tv show. You were falling for him fast and hard and this time, you didn’t want to stop. You didn’t want to run away like you usually did, but you still couldn’t get yourself to mention it to him.

Eddie had invited you over to watch yet another movie and you accepted, finally deciding that you were going to tell him how you felt. Sure, you were terrified of rejection, but you were pretty confident that he felt the same way.

You opened the front door that Eddie unlocked for you, but stopped when you heard other voices. Just by listening, you could tell that it was the usual suspects since Eddie wasn’t really close to anyone else. You were about to close the door and wait out their visit since you didn’t want to intrude, but you stopped when you heard your name.

“What about y/n?” Jeff asked. Your ears perked up at that. What about you? Why had you even been brought up in the conversation? You were just one of Eddie’s many hook up’s, right?

“I don’t know. She’s different.” That statement could have gone either way and you weren’t sure which one he was going to be.

“Different how?” Gareth asked and you stepped closer to hear better.

“I can’t explain it. Sex with her is just…different.” Now he was talking about your sex life with his friends? How often did that happen? Thinking about it made your stomach churn.

“Different, huh? Falling for her already?” Doug teased and you watched Eddie shove him.

Maybe you were wrong and all of the nice things he said were just to get you back into bed with him. That did seem just like him. But maybe it didn’t because you think you knew him well enough to know he wasn’t that kind of guy, no matter what people said.

You went to shut the door, thinking that you had heard enough, but your foot got caught on the step leading into the house, causing you to fall into the foyer with a loud thud. All four pairs of eyes turned to you and Eddie was quick to rise up from the couch.

He rushed to you and helped you to your feet, making sure you were okay and didn’t need any bandages. Once you brushed yourself off, you turned to leave, not wanting Eddie to see the tears that were welling up into your eyes.

You raced out the door and Eddie was hot on your heels, reaching out for you, but you were just out of reach. He called after you as you headed to your car and you stopped as you opened the car door.

“Hey,” he said softly, reaching out to wipe away your tears, but you beat him to it. “What’s with all the tears, hm?”

“Nothing, it’s nothing.” You turned away from him, staring at the driver’s seat, the idea of leaving sounding very inviting.

“It’s not nothing if you’re upset, darling.” The name that usually made your heart flutter now made your stomach feel sour. How dare he call you that after what he had said about you?

“Don’t call me that,” you pointed at him before slamming the car door and standing in front of him. “You don’t have the right anymore since I overheard you talking with the guys.” Tears were welling up in your eyes again and now you weren’t going to stop them.

Eddie honestly had idea what you were talking about. What had you thought you heard? He hadn’t said anything that would have hurt your feelings. At least, he didn’t think he did.

“What did I say?” He was desperate to know so he could fix it. Seeing you cry was like a stab to the heart and he really couldn’t take it anymore. He wanted nothing more than you pull you into his arms and comfort you as long as you needed it.

“You were going to tell Doug that you don’t have feelings for me. Now if you’ll excuse me,” you turned back to your car, but Eddie grabbed your wrist and turned you around to face him. He pulled you to his chest, his brown eyes turning into that honey color you admired.

“I was going to tell him that I have feelings for you.” So you were right. All of your suspicions had been correct and you had been upset for nothing. Now you were beginning to feel stupid.

“You were?” Your lips parted and your eye widened in shock, still in disbelief.

“I was. I’m in love you with.” Your mouth fell open at his words and then a wide grin broke out on your face as you threw your arms around his neck. For once in your life, your feelings were actually reciprocated.

“You are?” Your words came out as a whisper but Eddie could hear you loud and clear.

“Completely and totally,” he breathed, his arms wrapping tighter around your waist. As soon as the words left his mouth, you pressed your lips to his, pulling him in for a kiss.

Eddie let out a gasp but quickly melted into you, moving his lips with yours. You smiled into the kiss and he couldn’t help but smile as well, the both of you laughing into each other’s mouths, your teeth clicking together.

“In case it wasn’t obvious, I love you too,” you told him, pressing another kiss to his lips.

“And thank god for that,” he replied, slotting his lisp between yours, that being one of many kisses to come.

[mouvs]

Love, expired? - Joost Klein

(Angst & fluff based on bittersuite<- singer reader)

You and joost have always been close, from his youtube days to his crowded festivals, always doing the craziest things together. You were his rock and he was yours, always finding each other in your miseries, finding comfort in one another as you smoked cigarettes and watched the night pass.

Always by one another’s side, cheering each other on. Some would say you come as a set, a bundle of joy spreading where ever you guys came, always giggling by his side as he made you smile trough and trough. Always holding him close on those harder days as he found his way to you, listing to music as you played with the blondes locks as he rested on your lap.

It was on those memories that had your head spiralling, seeing him sleep so peacefully next to you, seeing those bright blue eyes disappear as he smiled at you, feeling his strong arms around your body in a warm embrace. All of it felt like a bliss of warmth, comfort and… love?

You cant lie, a part of you always knew you loved him. But you denied it and you would deny it until you couldn’t anymore. Hes busy, he doesn’t have time for all of that, he doesn’t have time for me, i cant make him happy you told yourself. It was all a joke to him.

You two had been trough so much. It wasn’t his fault you took his jokes a little too seriously right? The nights, you danced together, swaying your hips to the loud music beaming trough the speakers, his hands on your waist and yours occasionally going around his neck, locking eyes from time to time as you held each other close.

“You look so gorgeous i could kiss you” he had said. “I love you” he had said. Giggling as he held you against his chest. Hovering over you the entire night with his hands on you, sharing intimate moments as his lips brushed against your neck occasionally as you danced against his chest. Holding you on his lap as he chatted with friends, gently laying his hand on your thigh. He made you feel so special.

Like it was meant to be, finally.

Until she came around.

The usual group of friends had dragged everyone to a party the week after, inviting a bunch of other people around. Surely one had to take an interest in joost. Your joost. The sweet sweet boy that lid up ypur heart every time you saw him, the sweet boy that made your heart beat faster every time he opened his mouth.

And he shamelessly enjoyed it. Crushing your party mood in an instant as you saw them dance how he danced with you. And you wished that was the only time you had to see it.

But no, surely she became part of the group. Coming along on the smallest things you all did together. And part of you felt so stupid, why do i feel this way you thought. He is free to do what he wants. But this was yet another sign.. that you had fallen hard for him. The way your heart aches for him was surreal.

Part of you felt like you were over reacting. Why cant you let him be happy.

But why do i need him to be happy..

You grew more distant from joost over some time, there was no confirmation they were together but one night at a bar with your friends, hearing the conversation, questions they asked, hearing the girl joke slyly next to him about ‘all they share’ and seeing her around his arm just was to much. You thought it was better to get rid off these feelings, which was painfully slow. You had known each other for so long it felt like a piece of you was missing each day you didn’t talk to him.

And he felt it too. He missed you.

You stopped showing up at his concerts, stopped hanging out with him and your friends as much. Telling them you’ve been working on new songs. Which wasnt a lie, you were drowning yourself in work on purpose, as not to think, not to hear not even breath joost.

Seeing the pictures she shared clinging onto him only making you burry yourself even more.

He felt concerned, he knew you, he knew you all too well to be fooled by your facade. Making your phone explode with texts and calls, only receiving short replies from you or smiley faces.

“Hey the concert for my new album is tomorrow hope you guys can make it!” The message popped up on his phone as he chugged back the remains of the beer he was holding.

He sighed. Remembering the times you were on stage together, dancing together, singing and screaming just living your wildest dreams. “Why wont you talk to me” he thought to himself as he scrolled trough your pictures. Reviving all the memories you guys had together.

Biking to school together, spending hours in grass fields as you both drew or wrote, enjoying the warm summers, going to parties together, smoking together. Suddenly everything reminded him of you. It made him so confused, he had a crush on you for a while but he had settled it was never the right moment as you gotten out of a rough relationship.. but his feelings.. it never really went away.

He wanted to make you smile, make you feel safe, be your person.

He exhaled briefly before pressing the call button..

Hearing it ring more then three times made him anxious as he looked at the screen, his heart stopping for a second as the ringing stopped.

“Hello?” Your voice sounded. Your voice.. he missed your voice. He listened to your songs a lot but it was never the same as actually hearing you talk to him, just him.

“Hey- uhm yea i saw your text in the group i wanted to congratulate you” he smiled softly “i hope im still invited..” he mumbled

“Aw thank you thats really sweet and ofcourse you are joost don’t be silly” you spoke, feeling a little nervous as you heard his quiet odd tone.

“Yea.. okay” he nervously chuckled “but.. why havnt i seen you y/n..” he paused as he sighed “i miss you” it usually took him a lot of courage to open up like that, but the feelings of missing you mixed with alcohol made it slip his lips easier.

It was silent for a while, you didn’t know what to say as you heard him speak.

“I- im sorry joost.. uhm i promise ill make some time for you tomorrow depending how busy it is you know” you nervously laughed. But you only meant one thing. You wanted to only see him, and not with another girl around his arm.

“Thats all you seem to say lately but i don’t believe you y/n” he bites back.

“Wh- what?” You frown as you hear his tone shift on the other side.

“I know somethings up and your not telling me.. did i do something wrong why are you so distant from me all of a sudden?”

Tears prickled into your eyes as you listened, feeling guilty as if you tossed him away.

“I-“ you sniffled “im sorry i dont know okay” you cleared your throat as you tried to compose yourself.

“Y/n sweetheart you can talk to me.. i want you to talk to me please?.. i know we both have it rough sometimes but thats why we have each other.” His words sounded trough your head.

So comforting yet feeling like a knife trough your heart as you sighed. You cant let this continue longer, torturing yourself, leaving him confused. You were already separating yourself from him, might as well take the shot.

“You know just come tomorrow, i do want to talk to you thats not it joost.. you know its not” you mumbled the last part. “After the show we can meet up? Just the two of us?” You asked.

“I would love that y/n” joost said, a soft smile spreading across his face.

-

“You should really listen to the last song by the way”

He frowned at the text as he and your friends walked too the venue.

“Oh? Why?:)” he typed back,

“If i talk you’d listen right?”

He only got more confused as he read your message

“Ofcourse y/n”

You didn’t reply back as the group went to find a spot, waiting for your entry as they gather drinks.

As you walked on stage joost motioned to get closer as he dragged the group to the front. His eyes glued on you at every given moment, paying zero mind to everyone screaming your lyrics as he tuned it out to only listen to your voice.

Patiently analysing every song, it was painful how mysterious you could be sometimes yet your music unfolds you perfectly.

You laughed as the music ends slowly “thank you all for being here i love you all” you breath trough the mic as you made eye contact.

“Well one more?” You asked as everyone cheered on you chuckled “alright alright i got one more for you guys” you smiled briefly looking at joost as your smile fades a little softer.

Nerves spreading across your body as everything was so real all of a sudden. Normally it feels like a fever dream standing on stage. But this was a little more.. you wrote this song thinking about him.. your feelings for him.

Just like you he stood there nervously listening to the music playing, interested what the last song was about. Carefully listening to the lyrics.

I cant fall in love with you

Your voice sounding trough his head, he frowns a little as he listens, watching your every move, so tender, so elegant.

I see the way you want me i wanna be the one

Your hair falling perfectly over your shoulders as your voice sounds trough the mic, joost eyes on you as you briefly made eye contact, swiftly looking away as you sang the next lines.

But i gotta be careful gotta watch what i say

God i hope it all goes away

Cause i cant fall in love with you

Suddenly it hits him, all those moments, all those heartfelt memories. He was truly in love with you. But.. is he the one you cant fall in love with? His mind raced as he watched you in the dim orange stage lights.

“Fuck” he breathed out as he walked out of the crowd as he ran trough the people trying to reach the back stage, the music ended.

“Thank you all so much” your voice sounded trough the venue as you looked at the crowd, not finding joost in his previous spot. Well fuck. You thought as you nervously smiled, adrenaline rushing trough your veins from the performance you turn around as you went off stage.

Only to be met with those piercing blue eyes you were looking for.

“Y/n..” he said walking towards you “i love you” he blurred out, out of breath from running as he looked down at you.

You stood there for a second with a sheepish grin on your face, serotonin rushing trough you as you pressed your lips against his, his arms comfortingly wrapping around your waist, holding you up as you hold him close.

The smell of his cologne hit you as you feel whole again, his hand tangled into your hair as his lips feel soothingly cool against yours, sounds of him groaning into the kiss only making you smile more as you wrap your arms around his neck.

“I love you too..” you give him a little peck “maybe a little to much”

“Don’t be silly you don’t know how long i’ve been waiting to spit that out” he whined before chuckling as you rested your head on his shoulder.

“How silly are we hm” you giggled as you pressed a kiss to his jaw, only making him want more as his hand brushed over your cheek and his lips meet yours again in a heartbeat.

[holllandtrash]

now that we don't talk | charles leclerc

pairing: charles leclerc x reader part 2 to say don't go

so i pay the price of what i lost and what it cost now that we don't talk

word count: 5.6k tags/warnings: slight angst, mentions of being disloyal, this is sad, pato o'ward makes a guest appearance had to rewind a bit because because this is charles' pov during and after the relationship - i promise we'll find the ending eventually

Charles was late to the welcome party in Vegas and maybe that was a blessing in disguise.

He showed up a little after 11pm as he really wasn’t in any sort of rush to make an appearance. This week was going to be a long one already and with the obligations piling on top of each other, he tried to spend the minimum amount of time doing what was required of him.

So on that Wednesday evening, he showed up over three hours after the recommended time of 8pm. Alexandra was with him, Alex as she preferred to be called. The coordinated outfits were her idea and Charles didn’t mind it, but it wasn’t an outfit he would have chosen himself. 

But they showed up, hand in hand and Charles found a few members of his team - or rather, Mark found him. 

“Did you know Damon Hill and his family are here?” Mark didn’t even start with a greeting. He did smile at Alex, out of politeness, but his interest lied with Charles knowing that the Monegasque driver hadn’t spoken to you in a few months.

“The whole family?” Charles asked with a breath, feeling the tense glance from his girlfriend. 

Mark nodded, “Yeah. Yeah they’re all around here somewhere.”

Here being the very large venue dedicated to tonight, to the inaugural Las Vegas Grand Prix. Members from each team, the drivers, invited guests and sponsors, everyone was here tonight. 

And apparently, so were you.

Mark was not the only person to mention to Charles that you were there, in fact Mark was the first of about eight people who felt the need to tell Charles that the girl he once spoke to was somewhere around.

Of course, no one could tell Charles exactly where you were, but it didn’t surprise him to hear you were leaving good impressions on everyone you had spoken to. You, someone who could part the red sea with ease, took a more delicate approach tonight. 

You were fully aware Charles was going to be there, but he was of no concern to you. You were polite to absolutely everyone you spoke to and if by chance someone mentioned that, ‘oh, Charles will be here eventually’ you simply smiled and nodded because you weren’t about to make any more waves in the motorsport industry. You preferred your name stayed out of the tabloids and what good would it be going around telling people how Charles broke your heart? 

There was speculation, of course. People knew you spent time together. Those online shared their opinions, right or wrong, thinking they could put the pieces together just based on the fact that he was seen in Paris with you one day and then in Monaco with Alex the next.

It didn’t help that you left England soon after, making only one more appearance in Formula 1 when you went to Spain. 

Charles still thought about that conversation, how calm you were throughout, not allowing him to take any piece of your dignity despite what he did, how he made you feel. 

Charles thought he was better off this way, with Alex. 

You were certainly better off. 

He didn’t like admitting it, in fact he probably never would, but he kept up to date with you, with your life. He saw on Instagram when you dyed your hair and then dyed it again and then chopped it to your shoulders. He saw when you spent time with the F1 Academy drivers, when you attended Nascar races, when you started spending more and more time with the Arrow McLaren team.

You had told him that you wanted to watch a few races, check out a few teams before deciding whether or not you wanted to pursue a career in the motorsports field.

And you had done just that. From the outside looking in, Charles couldn’t help but think that this was you just trying on different lives. Indecisive, certainly. But you looked happy, so who was he to have a say?

It shouldn’t have come as a shock when the news dropped of you being brought on as a Performance Engineer for the US based papaya team starting in 2024. The photo that accompanied the headline was you sitting at the pit wall in Portland, already with the orange headset on as you watched the race.

Charles was in Italy when he read the article. Just over three months after your relationship ended...but who's counting?

He had finished fourth that Sunday, not his worst race but his best one either. He was just on his way to his car, wanting to head to the airport when he came across the news on Instagram.

He wanted to congratulate you. He wanted to call you and tell you he was excited for this move, for this career you landed on. He wanted to joke that he could have gotten you a job at Ferrari if you had just asked. 

But you didn’t talk anymore so he couldn’t say anything. This was the cost of losing you. Charles couldn’t stay your friend, not after what he did, and in return, you were out of his life. 

It wasn't that he was looking for you that night in Vegas but he wasn't not looking for you. It was quite a large crowd that even he had trouble navigating his way around. Alex walked behind him, following Charles at a close distance. 

And truthfully, Charles tried not to compare you and Alex, but something about knowing you were in the vicinity had him thinking of what would be different if you had accompanied him tonight. 

You wouldn’t reach for his hand, but you would have lightly grabbed the back of his shirt if the crowd started getting a little suffocating. Just a slight tug on the material and Charles would turn around and assure you with a smile that he wasn’t going anywhere. 

The first time you did that, you were in Monaco. Those weeks he flew you out to spend time with him after only meeting once in the Ferrari garage. 

After leaving a nightclub, the crowd got a little rowdy- they all wanted a piece of him. You stood behind him as he walked to the car that was waiting but when people started moving closer you felt as though you were suffocating. Heart racing as anxiety crept up, a new feeling because you didn’t think you were claustrophobic but you had also never been in this situation before. 

You reached for the back of Charles’ shirt, hand brushing over the thin material before taking it between your forefinger and thumb. It was helpful for you, knowing that you could still touch him, feel him. It grounded you. A little bit of comfort amidst the chaos.

Charles turned when he felt the faint tug. He recognized the wide eyes, the fear that you tried to play off because this was normal for him. But it wasn’t normal for you so he raised his hand, sliding his fingers into yours to give you that gentle squeeze before finally making it to the car.

The anxiety faded the second Charles closed the door for you. He walked around to the drivers side and slid in, hand automatically finding your leg. 

He didn’t ask about it, the sudden panic. He knew you had been around large crowds a handful of times before. You weren’t in the public eye per say, but your father was and growing up you became used to it. 

But this was just different. Charles recognised it, and he knew moving forward he’d have to be mindful of it, of you, of how you were feeling. 

He wondered how you were doing tonight in Vegas, if there was someone else's shirt you were clinging onto this time. Or maybe that was something you saved just for Charles. He couldn’t ask, though. He wouldn’t know the answer to how you were feeling because you didn’t talk anymore.

He also had absolutely no idea where you were. 

Maybe you had left by now. It was getting late. If you showed up on time, which you probably did, you’d have been ready to call it a night thirty minutes ago. You’d have gone back to your hotel room and scrubbed your makeup off, changing into one of those matching jumper and sweats sets you always had. 

You craved comfort over anything else.

Charles remembered Paris. The first night. Not the night where everything fell apart right in front of him all because he couldn’t say those three little words back to you.

No, the first night was good. It was great, magical even. Charles had taken you out to dinner. The skin tight black dress you wore, the one with the low cut neckline - Charles still thought about it. He’d love to know if you still had it, if you wore it for anyone else but those were questions he kept to himself. 

He remembered at the end of the evening you were at your second wine bar, having come across this one completely by accident on your way back to your place. Charles remembered pulling you inside, suggesting that one more glass wouldn’t hurt anyone and you hesitated because it was getting late, but nevertheless, you followed. 

One glass turned into splitting an entire bottle at one of the high tables in the very back. This place was old-school chic with the decor and the 80’s records playing on low volume. It was nothing like the modern and elegant bar you had just spent the last hour in. No, this place was intimate, cozy and surprisingly you didn’t want to leave, even as the night went on. 

And that surprised Charles because you had joked at the beginning of the night that you wanted to be in bed by at least eleven. It was half 12 now and you showed no signs of trying to get back to your flat. 

“So do you or do you not like staying out late?” Charles asked, trying to get the proper read. His hand was resting on your leg, fingers daringly close to the hem of your dress. You were both way too overdressed for this establishment but no one seemed to mind. No one paid you two any attention.

You smiled and glanced around, wanting to bring light to the fact that no one had approached you since you stepped inside, but you didn’t want to jinx it.

“After a certain hour I like to be comfortable,” you answered. “There’s nothing comforting about a stuffy bar and loud music and people in your space who think they know you but they really don’t. And I like going out, I do, but I don’t like staying out longer than I need to.”

Charles nodded, understanding the point you were getting at. This wine bar was a hole in the wall, a hidden gem that provided you the comfort you desired. While you weren’t entirely alone, it certainly felt like it. You could laugh freely without worrying about being too loud or embarrassing. You could sit as close as you wanted to Charles without being cautious of who was nearby. It was just you and him. 

And you could have gone back home, but home would always be there. This moment, this bar, this was just as comforting and in the back of both of your minds, you knew it wouldn’t come again. 

You were right.

Charles would have rather been back in that corner of the wine bar with you now, back in Paris without the impending end of your relationship weighing over his shoulders. 

He wished he could relive that night over and over because for a moment, he thought that maybe, possibly, he could love you.

Charles blamed it on the wine. The way the dim light hit your delicate features was only accentuated because he was drunk. Your laughter was soothing, heartwarming even, but he reminded himself he had heard it hundreds of times before. You looked at him that night, a naive glow to you and it terrified Charles. 

He pushed that four letter word aside. He couldn’t love you. He couldn’t love anyone, he couldn’t have that commitment, not with his lifestyle- his career. If he loved you, you’d become a distraction. You’d want more from him and he couldn’t do that, he couldn’t give you more.

So when you told him you loved him only a few days later, he ran.

He ran back to Alex because she would never tell him she loved him. She wouldn’t put that on his shoulders, she wouldn’t carelessly hand over her heart that way you had. Because that’s what you did. You gave Charles everything, all of you and he didn’t know what to do with it. He wasn’t ready to give you everything in return.

He was left with a tainted memory of Paris.

So yes, he tried to think of that first night more than any other one. At least that memory was pure, wholesome. 

It wouldn’t have surprised him to find out you left this Vegas party already. Probably found the quietest bar on the outskirts of the strip. Or you might have even gone back to the hotel because what comfort could a bar bring you? 

Did you still think about that night in Paris too? Or had you tried to completely forget about your time together there? Again, Charles couldn’t just ask you that. You didn’t talk. 

But there were people here that you did talk to.

Charles spotted Pato O’Ward, the well adored driver in the IndyCar series. You may not have been hired as a performance engineer for his car, but you were going to be a crucial part of the Arrow McLaren team. Plus you had spent a handful of races with them already, sometimes in his pit lane box. 

They had met before, briefly but it was a long enough interaction that Charles didn’t feel uncomfortable approaching the Mexican driver. 

They chatted about the race happening this weekend, about Pato’s upcoming practice session he’ll be participating in in Abu Dhabi. Charles was friendly, he knew how to carry a conversation.

He also knew how to find out the information he couldn’t get first hand from you. Of course, waiting until Alex walked off to get another drink.

“I heard about Y/N joining the team,” Charles casually mentioned. “That’s exciting, she’ll be a good addition.”

“Oh for sure,” Pato nodded in agreement. He glanced around, as if trying to find you but he didn’t spend too long looking. “She’s a genius. We’re happy to have her. I’m surprised that she didn’t find a job in Formula 1, though. With her father and all and-”

Pato cut himself off, unsure if this was a line he wanted to cross.

But Charles chuckled, making light of the history he had with the new Arrow McLaren employee. The more at ease Pato felt, the more likely he’d be willing to talk about you.

“Honestly I could have gotten her a job at Ferrari if she showed interest,” Charles told him. He wasn’t sure if that was true or not, but Pato wasn’t going to talk if Charles was quick to shut down the topic of you. So he continued, “But she always talked about IndyCar. She only ever spent time at Formula 1 because of the history, because of her dad but her interests lied with your series. I think it’s because she grew up with Formula 1, you know, there was no more fascination. IndyCar is almost like a challenge for her…she did always like to challenge herself. I hope this career is good for her- I think it will be, I think it’s what she needs. I mean, I guess I don't really know what she needs but I hope she finds it at Arrow McLaren.”

Where the fuck did that come from?

Even Pato was a little taken aback. He didn’t show it on his face, but he certainly hadn’t expected Charles to say any of those words about you. There was a longing in Charles’ tone. He wasn’t just speaking highly of you, he was pulling from his heaviest memories, his cherished moments. He wasn’t just telling Pato everything that Pato probably already knew. Charles was reminding himself of the person you were, the person you still are. 

The person he didn’t know anymore.

Charles cleared his throat, “Do you talk to her? Or not so much in the off season?”

Pato moved on along with Charles, as best as he could, offering him a faint shrug, “I chatted with her earlier tonight. She’s in the middle of a move, actually.”

“To the states?” Charles asked.

“Bristol, I think,” Pato racked his memory but was confident with his answer. “She lived in Paris for a bit but is going to spend the next few months in Bristol before heading to the states at the end of February.”

Bristol did not come as a surprise to Charles. 

“If you could move anywhere, where would you go?” You had once asked him. Although, your timing was poor as you were both currently lounging on the front of his yacht in the French Riviera. Why would he want to move anywhere else when everything he needed, for the most part, was right here?

“I don’t want to move,” Charles gave you the answer you had expected. He turned his head to face you, arm resting on the back of the chair. He had sunglasses perched on the bridge of his nose but he took them off his face and handed them to you when he realised you were squinting as you looked at him.

“I’d move to Bristol,” you told him, unprompted. His sunglasses were a little big for your face, but the gesture was sweet. 

“Bristol,” he repeated. “Why Bristol?”

“It’s beautiful,” you said. “Rich in history and culture. I’d live on the seaside. I’d spend my days in the market. There’s still a bit of a nightlife if I feel like going out. But It’s serene there. I’d be happy there.”

Charles sat up a bit, “Monaco has all that. Why don’t you just move here?”

You laughed. As if moving to Monaco was that easy. 

Regardless, Monaco was missing something you cherished.

“I enjoy the cold weather, Charles.” You said as if this wasn’t something he already knew. “Bristol’s like the perfect place. It doesn’t snow often but it still drops in temperature during the winter and if I wanted a white Christmas I could just drive a few hours inland. I can’t thrive in 365 days of heat. Sometimes I just want to make a cup of tea and curl up on the couch with a blanket.”

Charles admired a lot of things about you, but near the top of that list was how much you appreciated the little things in your life. You were raised in wealth, with a name that everyone was familiar with, but you were simple. You worked hard for what you wanted and you cherished what you had. You never asked for anything more and you were always content, never one to complain. You were probably the most down to earth person he’d ever met.

So no, it wasn’t shocking to hear that you had moved out of your flat in Paris to spend a few months in Bristol. To get that British winter one more time before moving for your career. 

“I’m sure she’s around here somewhere if you-” Pato stopped mid sentence, his eyes landing on something, someone, behind Charles. 

Naturally, Charles turned over his shoulder to look.

There you were. 

Part of your hair was pinned back with a pearl hair clip. You opted out of a dress, going for a matching skirt and cropped blazer instead, pairing it with a pair of heels only a shade darker. You were chatting with someone that Charles didn’t recognise, a champagne glass held delicately between your fingers. You were so into your conversation that you had no idea that you had gained the attention of not just one driver, but two.

Charles wasn’t the only one who was dying to spend some time with you tonight. 

He turned back at Pato and Charles would be lying to himself if he said his blood didn’t boil over at the way Pato was looking at you. He was envious in this moment. He knew you were larger than life, but you were such a well kept secret, his secret, and you were the farthest thing from that now.

Pato muttered something about catching up with Charles later and all Charles could do was watch as the IndyCar driver made his way over to you. You greeted him with a warm smile. His hand found your lower back with ease, like he had placed it there before. You handed him the champagne glass in your hand and Pato took a sip, holding it onto it, like that was normal. Like you shared drinks with him before.

And Charles knew he didn’t have any sort of right to care, to question, to even wonder what you were doing now but god it pained him to think that you were possibly, probably, sleeping with Pato O’Ward.

When did that start? Before you signed your contract or after? Did that matter? No of course it didn’t matter. None of it mattered because Charles was with Alex. He made that choice, he let you go. He foolishly, stupidly, regrettably, let you go and now he had to watch from the sidelines as you lived your life without him. You found the career you wanted, not in Formula 1.

If you were with Pato, there was no doubt in Charles’ mind that Pato treated you better than he did. He was a stand up guy, he was charming, he leaned in and whispered something in your ear that had you blushing in seconds.

How Charles was feeling wasn’t fair and he knew it. He knew he was in the wrong. He knew he couldn’t be jealous seeing you with someone else. You had moved on, you had every right to move on. 

He knew that it shouldn’t have taken seeing you with Pato to realise he had made a mistake. This was a conclusion he should have come to a while ago, honestly he should have never even let you go in the first place. And maybe he did know it and just didn’t want to admit it until it was screaming at him, a brutal hit to the face over and over until he just couldn’t ignore the bruises anymore.

He shouldn’t have let you go. 

But he did and this was the price he had to pay. He watched from the outside, watched you change and grow through the stories he overheard and pictures you shared. He was a mere crumb in your life now compared to when you handed him your heart on a silver platter. 

Charles regretted everything. He regretted that he left you waiting for him to say ‘I love you’ and at the very least, hoping he would say ‘don’t go’ and instead gave you nothing. Now he couldn’t say any of those words. Now you didn’t talk. 

He left the party early. Alex didn’t say anything on the ride back to the hotel. Neither did he. What was there left to say anyway?

But the silence from her left less of a hole than the silence he got from you. 

He sat in the hotel bar while Alex packed up her suitcase and asked the front desk for a new room. She wasn’t going to leave. Not yet, at least. Just give Charles the space he needed and honestly, Charles knew she was waiting for him to return to her once he came to his senses, like he did last time.

Because Alex gave him what he wanted. Comfort, but she didn’t ask for it in return. Adoration, but didn’t expect the love to be reciprocated. She played the part of the girlfriend and she played it well, accompanying Charles wherever, whenever. Alex thought that if she played the long game, Charles would love her. Charles would see a future with her.

You, though, you didn’t have time to wait. You weren’t going to sit ideally and beg for him to love you back. You weren’t going to tell him that you’d wait for him, that you’d be there if things with Alex didn’t work out. 

You moved on. 

Charles tried to accept that, really. He tried to just focus on the last two races and not about what you were doing. If Bristol was everything you dreamt it was. If Pato and you were together. He tried not to think about anything that revolved around you. 

He thought he could at least make it to the New Year, and maybe he would have. He might have reconnected with Alex on the 31st if he successfully went the entire month of December without his mind trailing back to you.

But the second his friend who resided in London called him up and asked if he wanted to attend a fashion show he was part of...well, it was embarrassing how fast Charles agreed to go. Because London was certainly closer to Bristol than Monaco was. And if he was in London, it was hard to find a reason why he shouldn’t just…go to Bristol.

Actually it was very easy to find dozens of reasons. Charles simply ignored all of them. 

He didn’t think this plan through at all, which was why he stood outside your door for nearly five minutes before knocking. What was he going to say?

For starters, he was really hoping you wouldn’t ask how he knew where you lived. Charles didn’t feel like explaining the hoops he had to jump through that may or may not have involved Joris at one point pretending to be your brother and calling your place of employment. 

It was fucked up. Charles could admit that. But if he could admit that, he could admit it wasn’t the only fucked up thing he did. Letting you walk away from him was at the top of that list.

When you opened the door, you weren’t upset to see him, but you weren’t happy either. Charles carried that vibe the entire time he was inside, starting from when you reluctantly let him in to the way you handed him his cup of tea without so much as a word. 

“How’s Alexandra?” You asked him. Charles could tell you were only trying to be polite. 

“Do you care?” He asked in return. 

No hesitation from you as you shook your head, “I do not.”

He always admired your honesty. He was still scared shitless at the way you could quite literally kill someone with kindness, but he also respected it. You were the only person he knew who’s gentle smile had the ability to send someone cowering. It was a skill, truly. 

“So let’s not talk about her,” he suggested and you nodded, but you also weren’t about to let the conversation carry on if it was pointless. 

“Charles if you don’t tell me why you’re here…”

He had an entire drive to figure out how he wanted to word this. He had a whole plane ride to put together the perfect sentence, the perfect mix of apologies and admittance and instead his mind was blank. He didn’t know the words to say to you, not after going so long without saying anything. 

But he lifted his head and met your eyes. He thought about reaching for your hand only to decide against it because your hand wasn’t his to hold anymore. 

“I shouldn’t have let you go,” he said, voice low, breaking almost. He shook his head, repeating it. “I made a mistake, I shouldn’t have let you go. I don’t want to be someone who’s not in your life. I don’t want to be someone who means nothing to you anymore. I-”

I love you, he wanted to say. 

Because he did. 

At least, he thought he did. At one point, he knew he could. If he could then, he could now, right? He could still love you. If you took him back, if you found a way to still love him, Charles wanted to love you back in the same way.

Or maybe he just didn’t want you to love anyone else.

“Charles you don’t know how to love anyone,” you knew exactly what he was going to say. And at one point, you wanted to hear it. Now, though? This was the one time you were hoping he didn’t say it.

“That’s not true.”

“It is,” you stated, like you knew him better than he knew himself. Maybe you did. “You don’t want to love someone, you just want to be loved.”

“I want to be in love with you.”

“That’s not the same and you know it,” your words could have cut through him like glass if your tone wasn’t so soft. 

Charles shifted uncomfortably. This conversation hadn’t gone as planned, but what was he truly expecting? You’d take him back? You were better off without him. Anyone could see that.

“Listen, I had to get over you and you weren’t even mine, Charles. Do you know how twisted that is? The only person to blame for my broken heart was myself because I knew, all along, you weren’t mine. I knew it and I went along anyway and I’m not doing that again. I will not love you again. I don’t need another wave of self destruction and false hope and unrequited love. I am happy, okay? I didn’t need you to come here with some sort of declaration that you can’t even say with your chest. I don’t- I don’t need that. I don’t need you.”

He still tried, still attempted to win you back with the what if’s but you saw through it. You cut him off before he could finish his question. What if I do need you?

You shook your head, staying firm with your decision. “It’s over now, Charles. It was over then and it’s over now.”

Charles believed that. He repeated your words the entire way home. He could never give you the closure you needed so you gave it to yourself and you seemed adamant that your past with Charles was going to stay there, in the past. 

He didn’t get back together with Alex. He couldn’t. He ended things the second he returned to Monaco. She asked if you were the reason and Charles didn’t really have an answer. You weren’t dating, but you were still there. In the back of his mind, in his dreams, everywhere he looked he saw you.

He didn’t think he’d actually see you again. He knew you were moving in the New Year. That you had officially gone on with your life. 

So imagine his surprise when you showed up at his door on New Years Eve. 

Smudged mascara under your eyes, an unopened bottle of wine in your hands and a dress that left very little to the imagination. Charles had hundreds of questions, for you, for himself, like was he just imagining this? 

And then you stepped past him, sliding your heels off and immediately going to his cupboard to pull out two empty wine glasses. It was a screw top, the bottle in your hands, Charles wondered where you got it but he didn’t ask. He just let you pour a very healthy amount into each of the glasses. He didn’t say anything when you handed one to him, you both just took a sip in peace.

Charles wasn’t sure where he found his voice, but he somehow managed to. And he said the stupidest fucking thing ever.

“I thought we were over.”

“We are,” you stated, taking another sip. You caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror behind him and you tried to wipe your undereyes but the dry pads of your fingers did little to help.

Charles stepped into the bathroom to grab one of those white hand towels that he hung on the rack. He ran it under some warm water before making his way back to you. He was hesitant to step close, but you didn’t flinch away.

So he raised his hand to your cheek, holding you still as he wiped away the stains of mascara, the remains of whatever you were crying over. His touch was gentle. You could feel his breath hit your face and you couldn’t help but glance at his lips. You hadn’t been this close since Paris.

“Thank you,” you whispered when he dropped the cloth to the sink.

Charles didn’t back up after. He stayed with his hand on the side of your face, even sliding his fingers against your scalp to get tangled in your hair. Something he knew you loved. You hummed at the feeling, how normal this seemed, like you weren’t the one to end things that last time around.

Unlike last time, Charles was the one to ask, “Why are you here, Y/N?”

You shook your head, wishing he could just accept this for what it was. You didn’t want to have a conversation.

So you reached for the front of his shirt, dragging your hand up to the collar as you brought your lips closer to his. The little twitch in the corner of your mouth, that faint smirk, it ruined Charles. His hand found your waist, he was only human.

“Please, Charles,” you breathed out. Not a beg, a request if anything. “Now is not the time to talk.”