#(and they were going to! but then my dad got his phone stolen and he needs it for his job lol)

[changbinlov3r]

Unwritten | B.C. | Part 1

Pairing: Chan x afab!reader

Summary: the only thing your best friend ever asked was for you to not fall for her older brother, but what should you do when you come back home for the summer and he seems like the most irresistible man in the world?

Genre: nonidol!au, fluff, angst, smut

Words count: ± 12,710

Warnings: other than reader is fucking oblivious, there's none for this part but this fic WILL contain +18 themes so minors DO NOT INTERACT.

Don't forget to support my writing by ✨reblogging✨

A/N: Yeri and reader are 2 years younger than Chan and for the sake of context Chan is 21 in this fic.

A/N²: so I have been writing this fic for a few months ☠️ and the plan was to have one big ass chapter but you know me(my dad didn't give me love so I need validation) so I'm going to post this story in 2 parts 😚 I hope you guys like it 🫶🏻

When you were fourteen, you met your best friend. Yeri and you clicked right away, since then you knew you two were meant to be.

Yeri had transferred schools and you thought it was strange that she never mentioned any of her old friends but she could be shy about it so you never asked.

The first and only thing Yeri ever asked you was to not like her older brother. Christopher, nicknamed Chan, was the most popular boy in her school and that's how you found out why she never mentioned any of her friends.

Turns out people only befriended Yeri because of her brother and when he rejected one of her friends, who was pretty popular, the girl and her whole group of friends turned against Yeri and made her life a living hell.

That's how she ended up in your school and after Chan got into a fight because of the bullying situation with her friends, he decided to finish high school in an all boys academy.

He was 16 when you met him for the first time and at the time you didn't understand what people saw in him and to be fair he never gave you any reason to like him. So when Yeri asked you to not fall for him, you laughed promising that that would never happen. How could you ever like him? He makes his life's mission to annoy you, since the first moment he laid eyes on you he made you his target, he would find anything to make fun of you.

For example, the first time you drank alcohol. You and Yeri stole a bottle of whisky from her father's collection when you were 15, you got so intoxicated that you threw up a few hours later and ended up falling asleep right there on the toilet with your hair full of vomit.

Chan found you in the morning, if you didn't know him well you'd think he was worried as he shook you awake, but the moment he saw you opening your eyes, he took his phone out of his pocket and took a bunch of pictures of you, pictures that he would use to blackmail you later on.

He did take the blow for the stolen whisky, his father took his car for a whole month and that's how you ended up being basically his servant for that month. He would make you go to the convenience store with him, saying he wouldn't be able to bring things back home all by himself. He would use you as his personal clock, telling you to wake him the time he decided like a fucking alarm. He would make you watch his games and cheer for him, while Yeri would send you apologetic smiles while watching you go through that since it was her idea to steal her father's whisky. Chan wouldn't stop torturing you even after Yeri begged him.

However, when he got his car back, he stopped using you as his servant. He even started picking you and Yeri at school after class, you guessed that he felt guilty about all the things he put you through but he never apologized for it.

When you got into your dream university, you felt the happiest. Yours and Yeri’s family made a barbecue together to celebrate that the both of you got into the schools you two wanted but you were going to different universities.

Yeri got into the same university as her brother, he got a scholarship with their music program two years before the both of you and Yeri got in to study liberal arts. You, on the other hand, wanted to study History and you also landed a scholarship since your grades were always the best in school and you did a bunch of extra curricular activities that would look good on your register.

You and Yeri cried your eyes out when you both had to separate, it was the most heartbreaking moment of your life. Never for a moment since you met her did you imagine staying away from her for more than a day and now you would go basically six months without seeing each other — in the worst case scenario, a whole year. Why did you two have to go to schools that are basically across the country from each other?

“We'll facetime every day”, Yeri mumbles almost inaudibly because of her sobs.

“Yes, don't worry”, you smile, holding her by the shoulders while tears fell down from your eyes.

“Jezz, you're not dying, you're just going to different schools”, Chan roll his eyes, passing through to finish storing his sister's bags in the car.

“You're saying that because you'll have her all to yourself”, you roll your eyes, whipping your tears.

“And I should be happy about that because…?” He teases, making you want to punch him in the face.

“If you don't want to, then let's exchange places”, you fire back, feeling annoyed already.

“Unless you have studied 4 semesters of music and know how to produce and write songs, I don't think you can take my place”, he says, condescending.

“Fuck off, it mustn't be hard to just mix tracks and write words in a paper”, you say angrily. You know that's not what he does, Chan is very talented and it takes a whole lot of love for music to be as good as he is but you want to piss him off, so you said what you said.

“You just insulted a whole profession with a sentence, congratulations”, he huffs his eyes, “let's go before I tell dad who really stole his whisky”

“You're so childish, it's been years, when are you going to stop bringing that up?” Yeri huffs, letting go of your goodbye hug.

“Who knows”, he opens the driver's door, “maybe one day y/n will do something else that's gonna make me forget about that”, he winks at you, before giving you a smug smile and going into the car. For a moment there, just for a moment you felt a wave of heat on your lower stomach and maybe, just maybe you found Chan attractive? Nah, that's not possible, all the emotion of the moment must be messing with your head.

You give your last kiss on Yeri’s cheek and watch her entering the car, waving goodbye at you until the vehicle disappears at the end of the road.

The worst case scenario happened. One year was the time that you had to stay away from your best friend. On your first break, Yeri got stuck in her school preparing for a presentation they would do right when classes started again, she didn't go back home so she could get ready and she crushed it, they filmed the whole thing and she sent it to you, you never felt more proud of her than by seeing her doing what she loves.

On your second break from college your professor offered you a spot on his summer class that would help you on advanced subjects later. The seniors from your major told you he almost never offered that opportunity to anyone and him taking a freshman in was unheard of, so you dreadfully accepted.

Finally on your third break you two managed to free yourselves from the university shackles and got to go back home.

You're currently on a plane, so you're going to get home quicker and won't lose time with your best friend. You were so anxious last night before that you barely slept and forgot to put your phone to charge, so as soon as you got on the plane your phone died. At least you wouldn't have to bother putting it on airplane mode.

Your family is not the most affectionate and that's not bad, their way of showing love was always acts of service rather than physical touch or words of affirmation but when your parents see you, even though they went to visit you at school, both of them cry and hug you like they haven't seen you in years.

You appreciate being cherished by them, even though you never really care about how they showed they love for you, now you feel truly loved. When your parents feel like they are okay with letting you go, you drop your bags in your room and don't waste any more time, going to Yeri's house.

Will she cry when she sees you? She's such a cry baby, oh you miss her so much. You can't wait to stay awake the whole night talking to her about your college lives, even though you facetime almost everyday it can't even compare to gossiping face to face.

You knock on the door a few times, something you're not used to doing but after so long without going to visit it seems disrespectful to just barge in. No one answers though, but you hear the sounds of splashing in the backyard. You can't believe Yeri went to the pool first thing when she came home rather than go looking for you, but you decide to not hold that against her since it's so hot you feel like you could melt any time now.

You decide to go directly to the backyard to surprise her, so you open the side gate and walk slowly, careful to not make much noise while sneaking on her. What you didn't expect was to not find Yeri, but Hyunjin, Chan's friend there, laughing about something while scrolling on his phone.

He didn't take long to notice you, eyeing you up and down and smirking. He didn't have the time to say anything, though, since Chan came out of the water at that moment, splashing water on his friend. The first thing you noticed was how muscular he had gotten over this brief period of time you didn't see each other. The droplets of water run slowly on his skin and the smile he gives you when he sees you could positively melt you more than the hot weather.

“Hey”, he says, putting his hands on the pool's border, raising his body up to help himself out of the water. And the moment you see his whole body, you hiccup.

Oh my god, are you nervous? Why would you be nervous close to your best friend's annoying brother? For fuck sake, get your shit together, are you in need to get laid? It's been so long you slept with someone that now you are lusting over anyone?

“Hi”, you wave, shyly. It's easier said than done, you just can't move, you really are nervous.

“What's up with the glow up?” Hyunjin asks you, as always very rude.

“What's up with your face? Got uglier?” You fire back, making him laugh.

“You wish I'd give you a chance”, he rolls his eyes, “give up, I won't even give you the time of day”, he throws his hair to the side, scoffing.

You roll your eyes, huffing. That's just how your relationship with him works, Hyunjin doesn't have to do much to piss you off, he and Chan are the perfect best friends.

“Hm, where's Yeri?” You ask, avoiding looking at Chan, his body is distracting and you can't let him catch you eyeing him up. He kept getting closer while you talked with Hyunjin so his distance right now is not the safest for your sanity.

“What do you mean?” He frowns, “her flight got delayed because of a wind storm, she told me she texted you about it”

You sigh, there was no better moment for your phone to have died than right when your best friend needed to talk to you.

“My phone died when I got to the plane and I haven't had the time to charge it yet”, you start mumbling, “is she okay? When is she coming?”

“Yeah, she's okay”, Chan says, blinking a few times to assimilate the information you just gave him. “She'll be here tomorrow morning, probably”

“Okay”, you nod, calming down but frown immediately. “But why are you here?” You ask and he smirks, tilting his head to the side.

“I live here”

You huff, rolling your eyes.

“You know what I meant. Shouldn't you both have traveled together?”

“We would have if she didn't bomb in one of her classes, also, I finished mine earlier this year so I came back sooner”

“Ah, okay”, you nod, “I'll go back home, then. I'll come back when Yeri arrives”

Immediately after finishing your sentence, Chan steps close to you, as if he would hold you in place but he stops before doing anything.

“Why don't you stay a bit longer?” He asks. “It's hot, you can enjoy the pool while you're here”

You think about it for a moment, before shaking your head.

“I didn't even bring a swimsuit and I'd rather not stay in the same space as that guy”, you stick your tongue out to Hyunjin, who's paying attention to his phone.

“I'll drive you back home, then”, Chan says right away.

“There's no need”, you shake your head again, chuckling, “my house is barely twenty minutes away”

“But it's super hot today”, he points out, “I won't feel comfortable letting you go home walking”, he finishes and for the first time in your life, you don't wanna fight back. Actually, his serious tone made your face grow hotter.

“Alright”, you nod and he smiles, telling you to wait for him to change clothes and that he'll be back soon. He gives you the keys to his car, so you can turn on the AC while you wait for him.

As always, Chan's car is neat just like his personality. Everything is organized and there's no trash or dirt, you start the car, closing the doors so you can feel the cold air.

You hold your hair up, taking the scrunchie off of your wrist to tie your hair, but it falls on the floor, making you groan and bend down to look for it. You can't really see down the seat, so you just tap on the floor trying to feel the fabric of your scrunchie but what you find is much more interesting. A bra. You feel your whole face hot, throwing it back beneath the seat the moment you see what the piece of cloth you're holding is. Woah, who would have guessed that Chan has bitches? And even though you feel a weird feeling in your chest, you think that everyone has their own taste so of course someone would like him even though he's the most annoying man on earth.

You got curious though, is she pretty? The girl he's seeing. She's probably super pretty, he has always been popular, of course he won't accept someone that's less than pretty. You did see a girl on his Instagram account, maybe she's his girlfriend.

You're taken out of your thoughts with the sound of the driver's door opening. Chan enters the car, fastening his seatbelt while starting the car.

“It's been a while since we last saw each other”, he says, not taking his eyes off of the road.

“Right? Who'd guess Yeri and I would have so many things come up, I'm dying to see her”, you finish excitedly.

“I was actually talking about you and I”, he answers and you look at him, seeing the man chewing on his bottom lip.

“Oh?” You frown, why would he? You're not even friends, “I guess it has really been a long while”, you nod.

You stay silent, not really understanding the ambiance and why you swear there's some tension there.

“How about school? Are you seeing anyone?” He asks, trying to change the subject.

“Hm, it's cool, I like what I'm studying”, you fidget with your fingers, “and no, I'm not seeing anyone”, you sigh, “there's just not really anyone that caught my eye I guess”, you tell him and you swear you can see a faint smile on his lips but before you can ask him about his girlfriend, he parks in front of your house.

“We are here”, Chan turns to you. You didn't even notice you were arriving already.

“Thank you for the ride, Chan. I'll see you tomorrow”, you tell him, getting out of the car and waving goodbye to him before walking to your door.

You find your phone thrown on the top of your bed, charging him just to find almost a hundred calls and texts from Yeri, talking about the chaos, the whole flight confusion and saying sorry she wouldn't get to see you right now.

You facetime her, waiting a few seconds and in a moment her bright smile shows up on the screen.

“Girl, I thought your plane had crashed”, it's the first thing she says.

“And why don't I see puffy eyes and despair in your voice?” You ask, ironically, making her roll her eyes.

“I doubt you'd let yourself die that way”, she informs you, “anyways, why couldn't I reach out to you?”

“My phone died and I hurried to see you right when I got home”, you smile sheepishly.

“Oh, was Chris home?” She asks and you nod, “that's good, my parents are out of town until next week, you'd have been stuck outside if he wasn't there”

“Yeah”, you nod, remembering the scene of Chan slipping out of the pool, how his wet swim trunks hugged his thighs and the water drops falling from his hair on his plump lips.

“Are you listening?” You hear Yeri say in a higher pitch, she always does that to catch your attention. Your face turns hot in an instant, what are those gross thoughts? You're going crazy, that's the only answer possible.

“I dozed off, couldn't sleep well because I was so excited to see you”, you make something up that is not entirely a lie.

“Ow, you're so cute”, she squeals, “I was gonna surprise you but since I'm gonna be late I'll tell you now”, Yeri says.

“What's it?”

“I'm taking my boyfriend with me on this trip”, Yeri giggles, making you frown instantly.

“What boyfriend?”

“You know, Minhwan, the guy I have been talking about for months now?” She declares as if it's obvious.

“The one who left you on read for an entire week and then came after you at a party just because you were with another guy?” You ask, incredulous.

“Yeah, he said he was sorry about that”, she giggles.

“Girl”, that's the only thing you can say, you can't believe your best friend is settling for that.

“What about you? Any hot guys on the plane?” She asks, changing the subject before you can nag her about her choice in men.

“Nah, an old couple seated by my side and they tried to set me up with their grandson”

“Oh? Did they show you pics? Was he handsome?” Yeri asks, excitedly.

“He's 39”, you tell her, smiling painfully, “they told me he’s nice and has two kids”

“Well, babes, we both know you're better alone”, your friend tries to cheer you up and you nod, agreeing with her, even though at that moment the only thing going through your mind is this crazy thought about Chan: what if?

You cry like an idiot when Yeri arrives, you missed her so much and you didn't even notice how much until you saw her again.

“You look so pretty”, you tell her, making her spin around so you can have a look. “I see college made you hotter”, you give her a thumbs up.

“Look who's talking”, she giggles, “I'm going to have to be your bodyguard this summer, guys are going to line up to see you”

You laugh, rolling your eyes and before you can say anything else, someone clears their throat, making you look in their direction just to see Yeri’s boyfriend there.

“Oh! This is my boyfriend, Minhwa”, she introduces you two. He gives you a charming smile, while sticking his hand to you.

“Hey”, he says, waiting for you to shake it, while you stare at him.

You don't like him, he seems like bad news, but is forced to shake his hand when your friend elbows you and whispers “be nice”

“Yeah, hi”, you say, not trying to hide your dissatisfaction but shaking his hand anyways. Just on time a loud horn sounds behind you, rescuing you from the awkward conversation that was about to happen.

“Chris is here”, Yeri squeals, grabbing her bags on the floor and walking to the car to greet her brother, who's already scolding her as soon as she lets go of his hug.

You watch Minhwan walk behind her and wait to be acknowledged by Chan, who eyes him up and down and glances at you. You shrug, shaking your head and he takes a deep breath, while Yeri introduces the two.

The trip back to their house is quiet, Yeri and her boyfriend go on the backseat while she talks about the city and shows him things of our childhood. He doesn't look all that interested but also doesn't tell her to stop talking.

When Chan parks the car, the couple gets out first, while you close your eyes, leaning back on the passenger seat, taking a deep breath.

“I guess no one thought that's her type”, Chan says, watching you opening your eyes slowly and turning your head to look at him.

“I don't think he's anyone's type”, you whisper and Chan chuckles.

“So you don't like a man who ignores you and then acts like nothing happened?” He teases, tilting his head to the side, making you chuckle.

“No, I like a man who shows how much he likes me”, you inform him, but the way Chan looks at you has a meaning you’re not sure you understand. He bites his bottom lip, nodding.

“That's good to know”, he says before opening the door and getting out of the car.

You frown, the way he's acting since you met him again is so weird. You definitely don't understand him.

After unpacking and updating you on a bunch of things, Yeri invites you to go to the pool. The day is sunny and hot, as expected of a typical summer afternoon. Chan invited his friends too, so Minhwa is basically the only stranger to you all.

Your best friend makes you wear a bikini, something you're not used to. You always try to cover yourself with a shirt or at least a swimsuit, not really confident about your body, but she’s not having it today saying that except for Minhwa everyone there has known you for years. You end up giving in, wearing the piece of fabric she provided to you.

“Just a question: is this supposed to cover me?” You ask, really wondering.

“You’re such a prude sometimes”, Yeri rolls her eyes. “This shows just enough, don’t worry about it”, she comforts you, but you’re not sure if it works. ‘Just enough’ for her surely is not enough for you. You decide to suck it up anyways, she’s right, everyone there except her boyfriend knows you since you were a teen, there’s nothing to be ashamed of.

That’s what you thought, at least. You’re sure there’s nothing much to look at but then why do you feel Chan’s eyes burning a hole in your body? You didn’t do anything to make him mad, so you’re not sure why he’s staring at you so intensely.

You sit on one of the chairs after greeting everyone, watching as Yeri jumps in the pool with her boyfriend, giggling and kissing him. You may not like him but it’s good to see her this happy.

You close your eyes, laying down on the chair, the sun is burning your skin when something is thrown at you. You open your eyes, a frown on your face while you stare at a towel. Your eyes wander to the figure by your side, just to find Chan standing there.

“What’s this?” You ask, lifting the towel off you.

“That’s for you to cover yourself, that thing you’re wearing is not doing the job properly”, he says, pointing at your bikini.

“Excuse me?” You ask, shocked.

“You’re excused, now please, cover up”, he repeats, looking around. He avoids looking at you when you toss the towel back to him.

“Fuck off”, you say, closing your eyes again, hearing him huff. Why does he have to be an asshole about this? Are you that ugly he can't bear one afternoon looking at your body?

You think Chan is going to leave you alone now, when you hear his footsteps fading away but then the sound of something being dragged hits your ears and you open your eyes again to see Chan bringing the chair closer to you.

“If you’re not going to cooperate, I might as well stay here to bother you”, he grins, comfortably sitting.

“Are you for real?” You roll your eyes, you thought this childish urge he has to annoy you had disappeared but clearly you were wrong. He ignores you, scrolling on his phone while he hums some stupid song he must have come up with.

After some time, you go into the pool, joking around with Yeri and playing games with the others. Chan is still there when you go back, watching you. If you didn’t know better you’d think he’s eye fucking you by the way he’s staring and it's scary how the thought that you wouldn’t mind if he really was comes to you mind.

You sigh, these strange thoughts keep appearing in your mind, you have to get over this before someone starts to notice, worse, before he starts noticing. You sit on your chair, taking your sunscreen out of your bag, applying it on your arms and face, on your chest, stomach and legs. You can’t reach your back, though and everyone is too engrossed in their playing for you to call someone to help, except Chan. You look at him discreetly, thinking if that’s a good idea, maybe you should just call it a day and go inside.

“Do you need some help?” He asks before you get to make your decision.

“Hm”, you try thinking fast, now much more nervous than before, “yeah”, you give in.

Chan smirks, stretching his hand to you so you can give him the sunscreen tube. You turn your back to him, without saying anything, not really wanting to prolong this awkward situation.

You hear the sound of the lotion being splashed in his hand and then the sound of him brushing his hands to spread the product, you won’t ever admit it but you’re dying with the anticipation of his hands on your skin. His long, strong fingers brush against your shoulder blades, spreading the sunscreen gently, massaging it for longer than necessary but you’re not complaining about it.

You feel your cheeks grow hotter, his hands go down to your lower back, putting more lotion on the area and caressing your skin. You shouldn’t feel this excited about it, you know you shouldn’t but the heat you feel on your lower stomach is not something you can control.

You get goosebumps when you feel his breathing too close to your skin, making you shiver.

“Do you like it when I touch you?” He murmurs, making your eyes grow wide. You turn around fast looking at him just to find him staring right back at you, lips stuck between his teeth and the corners of his goddamn sexy mouth upturned in a cocky smile. Before you can even answer him, your phone rings, making you jump out of the chair to at least a meter away from the man.

You pick your phone up, listening to your mom's voice asking you what you want for dinner, saying you weren't answering her texts.

“I-I'll go home now and we can go grocery shopping”, you stutter, trying to recompose yourself, trying to make your heartbeat go back to normal.

She answers telling you to hurry up then, because it's almost time to make dinner. You don't even look back at Chan, you can't really, he must've misspoken, there's no way he asked you that with an ulterior motive, there's no way. But even though you're telling yourself that you can't control the heat radiating from your cheeks, from your whole body actually.

You collect your things, running to Yeri in the pool and telling her you're going home, then you hurry back inside to change and run back home, still embarrassingly flustered.

You feel distracted the whole trip to the grocery store, you talk with your mom automatically, not really paying attention to anything other than the memories of Chan's hands on your skin, burning every bit he touched.

You're debating with yourself which snacks you should buy for your sleepover with Yeri in the weekend when you hear your name being called.

“y/n? Oh my god, it's been ages”, Yuna, a classmate from your highschool times approaches you.

“Oh, hi!” You smile at her, she was always very nice with you and Yeri when you studied together. “It really has been a long time”, you nod.

“Are you on break? Your mom told mine that you went to that school you always dreamed about”, she asks excitedly.

“Yeah, I'm visiting”, you look around to see if you can find your mom, you don't want to believe that you got lost even though you're a grown up.

“You know what? My boyfriend is throwing a party this friday, why don't you come?” She smiles, “bring Yeri too, I miss her”, she says.

“Oh, yeah”, you nod, “I'll talk to her and let you know”

“You still have the same phone number?” Yuna asks.

“I do. You can text me the details”, you smile at her. “Oh, my mom is here”, you point at the older woman, pointing to the watch on her wrist for you to hurry up.

“Okay, see you!” Yuna waves goodbye to you and your mom while she walks away.

You go out with Yeri alone for the first time since you met after all this time. She left Minhwa with Chan and the other guys, meeting you in the mall after. You visit every store in there, buying clothes and trying weird things you would never spend money on but can have a good laugh at.

“Yuna? She's nice”, Yeri says, putting on orange pants.

“Yeah, she texted me the details yesterday”, you look at her choice of clothes disgustingly, like you're any better wearing a large shirt with tiger print on it.

“We should go”, she nods, taking the piece of fabric off. “And then Saturday we can do our little sleepover in my house”

“Okay, I'll tell her we'll be there”, you watch as she turns to look at you. “Hm… I meant to ask you before but didn't get the chance… How's it? To see Hyunjin after a while?” You ask, cautiously. You have been avoiding this subject since Yeri is dating someone else now, but you couldn't help but notice the few glances she still throws at her childhood love.

“Oh, I'm fine”, she smiles without looking in your eyes and you know she's lying.

Yeri liked Hyunjin for a long time, even though he never gave her any signs that he liked her back. So when she got into college, she promised she would do anything to forget him.

“Are you sure?” You press, not really wanting to force her to tell the truth but also trying to show that you care.

“Yeah”, she smiles at you and look into your eyes, “and even if I'm not, I'm sure I'll be fine soon”

You pout, walking to her and opening your arms for a hug.

“My poor baby, you went through a lot but everything will be fine”, you caress her back while she wraps her arms around your waist. “I love you and that's all that matters”, you say proudly, making her laugh.

“Shall we buy some clothes for the party?” She lifts her head to peek at you and you laugh.

“Anything for you”, you answer, sighing.

You definitely shouldn't let Yeri choose your clothes for any event. You should have already learned that but every time she'll ask with puppy eyes and you'll give in because you can't say no to your best friend. So even though her clothing tastes are a lot more extravagant than yours, you always have hope that she'll choose something modest. But that's never the case and this time is no different.

She chose a black dress that can barely cover your ass, it has a cleavage so low you're not sure your boobs won't just pop out of there if you move too hastily. You put on safety shorts just to be sure, you don't want anyone to have a peek at your panties and also a strapless bra to make sure they are safe and sound right there.

You still feel exposed, but with Yeri hyping you up the whole time she helps you get ready, you start thinking that you don't look so bad. You do your own makeup, too afraid of what she'll try on you and you leave your hair down, carrying a hair tie on your wrist just in case it gets too hot.

You, Yeri and Minhwa take an uber to the party. It's already possible to listen to the loud music when the car is turning on the corner, dropping you three a bit far from the house since even the street is crowded.

You didn't even know there was a house this big in your town, it has a big garden, three floors and a pool that's probably the size of your house.

“You came!” You hear a squeal as soon as you enter the door to the house. Yuna comes running in your direction, hugging Yeri. “Girl, it's been so long”

“We need to catch up”, your best friend says excitedly, turning to Minhwa and introducing him to Yuna.

“You didn't bring your boyfriend?” Yuna asks you, making you tilt your head in confusion.

“I don't have one”, you answer.

“Oh? Ah, I see”, she seems confused, looking like she's trying to remember something. “Don't worry I'll help you find someone nice today”, she grabs your hand reassuringly, pulling you three to the middle of the crowd before you can say you're not interested in her proposition.

You see some familiar faces along the way, some people that attended the same school as you and some friends of Chan. You managed to not think about him for a couple of hours, not letting his voice appear in your mind just to make you confused. You even avoided going to Yeri's house, inviting her to get ready at yours.

Yuna stops you all when she meets a group of people, she introduces you all to her boyfriend and his friends. There are some girls there, pretty girls that make you a bit uncomfortable. Because they are naturally pretty and you suddenly feel like you're trying too hard just to look decent.

You fidget unconformably on your tiny dress, feeling embarrassed now. Everyone is talking but you feel left out, maybe it’s just your overthinking.

“Hey”, you hear a masculine voice right next to you, making you turn around to look at the guy. He's cute, a bit taller than you.

“Hi”, you smile, waving at him awkwardly, not needed to say that you're not very good at flirting.

“Jihoon!” Yuna says, “I was going to introduce you to y/n tonight”, she smirks.

“I think I remember her from school”, he answers, eyeing you and then he laughs with your panicked face, you don't remember him at all. “It's okay if you don't remember me, I was always buried in books and I basically slept in the science club”

“Oh, yeah”, you nod, “maybe that's it, I don't think I ever visited the science club in high school”, you laugh, making him smile.

“Why don't you get something to drink together?” Yuna suggests, winking at you.

“Sure”, you nod, looking at him who just shrugs. “Sorry about that, apparently she really wants to set me up with someone”, you tell him when you start walking together.

“I don't mind”, he chuckles, “not if it's a pretty girl she's trying to set me up with”, he grins at you, making you blush.

He's someone comfortable to talk to, you two start sharing stories about your school years, teachers you both recall and weird things that happened. You chose a beer to drink, it helps you talk more freely. Jihoon tells you that he just got out of a long term relationship and that Yuna is only trying to help, making you laugh, telling him you never had a boyfriend so you're not sure why she's so set on finding someone for you.

After an hour or so goes by, you already drank more than you're supposed to, laughing too much at the not so funny jokes Jihoon is telling. When a song you like starts playing, you grab his hand, pulling him to the dancefloor with you. You do feel a bit more bold when you have a little too much to drink, so you put your arms around Jihoon’s neck, pressing your body against his. He doesn't waste time, wrapping your waist with his arms, resting his hands on your lower back. You start grinding on him, hips moving with the music playing in the background.

You two look at each other and laugh and you feel like you could definitely kiss him at that moment if it wasn't for the strong hold you feel on your wrist before you're yanked away from the man who looks extremely confused while you're dragged away.

You look at the person who's pulling you out of the house, you know that back too well for your own good.

“Chan?” You ask, even though you know it's him. “Let go of me”, you yell now, trying to stop him and get out of his grip. But he's too strong, he only releases you when you're far away from the house.

“What are you thinking?” He turns to you, face red in anger.

“That's something I should be asking”, you scowl, surprised with his reaction, you don't think you have ever seen Chan that mad.

“You were rubbing yourself on that guy in the middle of a party!” He grunts, “and what's that you're wearing?” He scowls, pointing at your clothes.

“It's a dress”, you say, sheepishly. The way he's looking at you makes you feel embarrassed.

“That shouldn't even be called clothing, it's just a piece of fabric”, Chan sighs, “did Yeri make you dress like that?” He asks, looking around to try and calm himself.

“She didn't make me do anything I didn't want to”, you tell him, crossing your arms in front of your chest. “I'm not a child, I can take care of myself”, you say. “And what's it to you if I was rubbing on some dude? I could be fucking him in the middle of the crowd and you still wouldn't have anything to do with it”, you spit it out, feeling mad out of nowhere. He should be worrying about his girlfriend, not his sister's best friend.

“Are you sure you're not a child?” He asks, sarcastically. “You sure act like one sometimes”

“Fuck you, Christopher”, you yell, feeling the blood boiling in your body. You're so mad at him, why is he acting like this all of a sudden? He has no right to treat you like this, even if he's Yeri's brother. You turn around, leaving him behind and walking to the opposite side of the party, a walk may calm you down, you need to go home anyways.

Except that you feel his presence right behind you, throwing glances at him for five minutes until you stop completely.

“Stop following me”, you say, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

“I won't let you go home by yourself, look at the hour”, he scoffs.

“I would if someone hadn't dragged me out of the party”, you huff, “my phone is inside my purse and Yeri has it”, you tell him, making him feel guilty.

Chan didn't think it through, the moment he saw you in another guy's arms he saw red, he didn't want to cause a scene but also couldn't control himself.

“I'll go back there and pick it up for you”, he grumbles embarrassedly.

“You should have thought about it before you pulled me out of there like that”, you say angrily, “you're Yeri's brother, not mine. I don't need you to look out for me like you do to her”, you sigh. This whole situation makes you sober up so fast that your head hurts.

“It's not the same”, he murmurs, frowning, “y/n, I don't see you like a little sister”, he says like it's obvious. “The reason I take care of you is not the same reason why I take care of Yeri”

“Well, mister Bang, please enlighten me with the difference, then. Because I have no clue and it fucking sucks”, you tell him, sarcastically.

He opens his mouth to say something but his phone starts buzzing in his pocket, saving him from whatever stupid thing he was gonna confess to you.

“She’s with me”, he says, when he hears Yeri's panicked voice because you disappeared, “I'll take her home, take care of her things”, he says before hanging up.

“I don't need you to take me home”, you tell him as soon as he puts his phone back in his pocket.

“Let's not discuss this right now”, he sighs, “my car is nearby, listen to me just this once”, he pleads, making you huff.

“Fine”, you roll your eyes and say “lead the way”

The car ride back home is silent, you don't want to talk to Chan. He has been acting weird since you met each other again after so long and that makes you mad because you thought that now you both would be adults enough to stop annoying each other, but maybe you were wrong.

“You should stop meddling in my business”, you tell him as soon as he parks in front of your house. “Let's be mature from now on, I won't mess with you and you do the same for me”, you tell him but Chan doesn't answer, he just stares at you like he's analyzing something and you definitely don't like that. He smirks next, throwing you off.

“Don't wanna”, he shrugs, “I'm going to do whatever I want from now on”

You sigh, shaking your head, it's already time for you to stop trying to understand this guy.

“You should keep calling me Christopher though, I liked it”, he points out, amused, making you frown.

“Good night, Chan”, you huff, opening the door of the car and getting off. You don't look back while walking to your house, that man makes you so mad it's driving you insane.

The whole point of calling him Chan is because he doesn't like being called that, you're the only person who does and it's just to annoy him and you won't entertain his antics since he doesn't want to leave you alone.

You wake up with the sound of the door of your room being closed with too much strength, making you groan in annoyance, your head hurting like crazy. You open your eyes slowly, trying to get used to the light coming through the windows, just to find Yeri standing at the end of the bed, arms crossed and eyes narrowed while watching you.

“How could you disappear last night?” She says, “I was so scared when I couldn't find you and then I freaked out when that guy you were with told me someone dragged you out”

You rub your eyes, watching your friend scold you. You can't believe you're being lectured about something that's not even your fault. 'Go fight your brother', you want to tell her, but for some reason you feel like you shouldn't.

“I'm sorry, I was drunk”, it's not entirely a lie, you were indeed drunk but you don't need to tell her that that was not the reason for your disappearance.

“Well who was the person who dragged you out?” She asks, brushing off your apology.

“I don't remember”, you lie again, feeling mad at yourself. Why are you lying to your best friend? Why are you scared to tell her it was her brother the one that made a scene because you were dancing with Jihoon?

“Stay close to me next time, okay? I'll make sure no one's gonna hurt you”, she huffs, pouting.

“Okay, thank you”, you smile. “Is everything alright for our sleepover today?” You ask, trying to change the subject.

“Yes, Minhwa gave the idea of having a bonfire, tonight is supposed to be cold”, she says, talking about the things you should go buy, the snacks and the drinks.

“Oh, okay”, you nod, you didn't stop to think that her boyfriend would be with you two on your sleepover.

“I'll wait for you downstairs, hurry up and get ready”, she hushes you, clapping her hands.

You get up begrudgingly, dragging yourself out of the bed straight to the bathroom. Only a shower can help you feel better right now.

Your head is pounding and your stomach is hurting, you want to throw up and go back to sleep but you know Yeri won't leave you alone.

You don't know why Chan shows up on your mind when the hot water hits your skin, you feel your head more clear but your best friend's brother is intoxicating your brain.

You shake your head, like that's going to make you forget about his existence. You better distract yourself with other things so these thoughts won't show up when you're with Yeri.

After putting on some comfortable clothes, you go down, meeting your best friend there. She's talking to your parents about the things you're going to be doing for the day.

“I'll be back tomorrow”, you tell your mom, giving her a kiss on the cheek. “Take care of her, old man”, you tell your dad, hugging him.

Both of them chuckle, knowing you do that just to annoy them.

“How did you end up with Chris yesterday, by the way?” Yeri asks, when you get out of the house.

“We just met by chance”, you say, still not feeling like it's right to tell her he was the one who made that scene the day before.

“Well”, she sighs, “don't you think he's acting weird lately? Did anything happen?” She presses, making your heart beat faster, as if you did something wrong.

“I don't know, maybe he broke up with his girlfriend or something”, you shrug.

“I don't think he has one, though”, she points out, making you snap your head to look at her.

“He doesn't?” You ask, shocked.

“At least he never told me about a girlfriend”, she says, making your heart skip a bit. What about that bra in his car? Is he just a player then? Maybe he fucks girls left and right and doesn't settle with just one person. Why does that thought make you feel worse than thinking he has a girlfriend?

It bothers you for the rest of the day, while you're grocery shopping, when you're on your trip to Yeri's house, when you start preparing things for the sleepover: why is Chan acting so weird lately? You thought he had a girlfriend so his behavior didn't mean anything to you until now. Now, there's a possibility that you have a chance with him and that scares you, not just because you think he may be a player who's going to seduce you and then pretend it never happened, but the fact that your promise to Yeri is not stopping you from lusting over her brother.

It's so weird having Minhwa with you two, you feel like you can't really let it all out because he's a stranger but you won't say that out loud since Yeri looks genuinely happy with his presence there. You all set the bonfire and are enjoying the night view while drinking some beers and talking. You two recall stories about your teenage years laughing about situations that made you two cry at that time. When you see your best friend rubbing her eyes and yawning, you know she's gonna call it a night. Yeri holds on for about one hour more until she tells you she's tired and wants to go to sleep. You're still full of energy so you tell her to go on first.

The temperature did drop, making you cover yourself with a blanket while you stare at the flames in the bonfire. The sound of the crickets in the distance makes you feel calm and the quiet of the night makes your mind go somewhere it shouldn't.

You have your thoughts interrupted by the one and only person guilty of those thoughts. You hear footsteps in the grass just to turn around and find Chan, walking towards you. He sits on the bench, right by your side, even though there are plenty of places he could sit on.

“Yeri already went to bed?” He asks, opening a can of beer and taking a sip.

“Yeah, she was tired”, you tell him. “Turns out she can't hold her liquor”, you joke.

“And you can?” He teases, making you roll your eyes.

“Yes, I do. I can go up to three or four bottles”, you brag, making him chuckle.

“I guess I won't find you sleeping in the bathroom again, then”, he says, making you turn around ready to argue, just to find him closer than you expected, more than you're used to.

“You should forget about that”, you whisper, trying to recompose yourself, forgetting your anger and just staring at his lips, looking down immediately.

“Should I?” He asks and you nod, feeling your cheeks grow hotter.

“Yeah, that was a long time ago”

“I guess you’re right”, he nods, tilting his head. “Maybe you should give me something else to think about”, Chan bites on his bottom lip, raising a brow in questioning.

“You have a suggestion?” You ask, chuckling, the atmosphere heavier at each second.

Chan stares at you for a moment, glancing from your eyes to your lips and then back to your eyes.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks, making you smile amusedly, realizing he’s trying to prank you.

“Why would you want to kiss me?” You roll your eyes, making him frown.

“I wonder if you really don't know or are just pretending”, Chan says.

You feel your breath stuck in your throat, feeling your heart start beating faster and faster.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about-”, you start saying but he interrupts you.

“I like you, I have liked you for a long time”, he declares.

“You shouldn't joke about that”, you feel your whole face turn red, a burn in your chest.

“I'm not joking, y/n”, he says, making you stare at him.

There’s no way he likes you, it’s impossible, right?

Right?

Before you can even think properly, your lips crash into his. You put your hands on the back of his neck to pull him closer and deepen the kiss. Chan is confused for a moment but it doesn't take long for him to reciprocate your eagerness, brushing his tongue on yours. His hand slips to your hip, squeezing so hard you could feel his nails digging on the skin. His lips are so soft and welcoming, it feels like you never tried anything like it

“Can I ask you something?” Yeri's voice sounds so clear in your head it seems like she's right by your side, “can you please not fall for my brother?”

You put your hands on Chan's chest, pushing him away from you and standing up.

“I'm sorry, I'm so sorry” you plead, not sure if you're saying that to him or his sister. “I- this was a mistake”, you stumble back almost falling, making Chan stand up to help you but you shake your head, turning around and running out of the gate.

You run without stopping until you get home, you’re breathless and you want to throw up, the butterflies in your stomach are not strong enough to ease the guilt you’re feeling, you can't believe you kissed Chan, you broke your promise.

How can you look in Yeri’s eyes now? You’re so scared now, what if she never wants to see you again? The worst of all is that thinking about the kiss makes your heart flutter and the ghost of a smile grow instantly on your lips before you can get a hold of yourself. You can’t be like this, you can’t be attracted to Chan and you really can’t fall for him, even though you already suspect that this feeling goes beyond just attraction.

You avoid Yeri for a whole week, not trusting yourself to not blurt out everything that happened the moment you see her face. You cried for a while, heartbroken for breaking your promise but also for the feelings that now you have to bury, so you can keep your friendship.

You told her you were sick that's why you went back home that night rather than staying over. It’s not a lie, in your defense you feel sick to your stomach every time you think about seeing her and it’s even worse when you think about Chan. The thought of seeing him again makes you nervous and not the type of guilty nervousness that you should be feeling but the type where you feel your heart flutter. Why did he have to make a move? He could have just kept his feelings to himself, the same way you were trying to do before you two kissed. Chan can have any girl in the world, so why you? You’re pretty, there’s no denying it but there are a hundred more pretty girls he must have met that are not his sister’s best friend.

When Yeri shows up at your door, bringing snacks you want to scream, literally. She looks worried, asking how you’re feeling and inviting you to stay at her house so she can take care of you but you don’t want to step foot in her house ever again — or any place that her brother might be present, for that matter.

“Are you mad at me or something?” She asks, sulking. “Is it because of Minhwa? He’s kinda boring right?” She completes, nervously trying to find out what she did wrong to make you mad.

“I’m not mad”, you sigh, you didn’t want her to think she’s the one at fault when you’re the one who broke the promise you made to her. “I’m just not feeling well lately”, you tell her.

“But did something happen?” She enquiries.

“No, nothing much”, you lie once more, feeling tired from lying so much to your best friend in such a short period of time. “But what about Minhwa being boring?” You ask her, trying to change the subject, her eyes widen immediately. She wasn’t supposed to let that out but she was so nervous that she just blurted it out.

“Well, I may be tired of him already”, she bites on her bottom lip and fidgeting with her hands.

“Girl, I knew this was going to happen”, you shake your head, completely forgetting about all your problems, too involved in the juice. “You aren’t over Hyunjin and it shows!”

“Fuck off”, she sulks, crossing her arms. “You’re so mean to me, I’m going through a hard time”

“Babes, please, you put yourself in this situation when you started dating the guy who ghosted you for an entire week”, you throw it in her face.

“Woah, never thought my best friend would judge me like that”, she sighs dramatically.

“Play stupid games, win stupid prizes”, you pat her back, “If not me calling you out, then who?”

“You’re right but I won’t admit it”, she nods, tsking. “Wanna go buy ice cream?” She asks out of nowhere.

“Sure, let’s go”, you smile. Just a few minutes with her and you’re already feeling so much better, you don’t think you would ever trade your friendship for the world.

You walk back home with a bag of popsicles, the sun is so strong that you don't think the ice pops are going to arrive intact in your house.

You're listening to Yeri's rant about her soon to be ex boyfriend when you hear the sound of a horn. You close your eyes painfully, you know that sound too well. Your best friend turns around with a big smile on her lips but you don't want to do the same, although you see her smile disappearing in a moment.

“Hey, wanna a ride?” You hear Hyunjin’s voice behind you, forcing you to turn around. He's seated in the passenger's seat while Chan is in the driver's seat, staring at you like he could burn a hole in your body. You can't avoid feeling your cheeks growing hot, you just want to get out of there.

“Yeah, why not?” Yeri says, grabbing the bag from your hands and walking to the car.

“Actually I'm going to walk some more”, you say, making her turn to look at you.

“What? It's hot as hell, why do you want to walk?”

“I don't know, I just feel like it”, you shrug, seeing Chan chuckle inside the car.

“I can accompany you if you want to walk”, he raises a brow, “I wanted to stretch my legs anyway”

You huff, closing your eyes. There's no way out, right?

“I guess it wouldn't be good for me to overdo it since I'm not feeling well”, you say, stepping closer to the car while Yeri goes in.

The ride is silent on your part, you don't want to look at Chan but every time you give in to your curiosity and peek at him, he's staring at you through the rear-view mirror. Yeri talks about everything nervously avoiding looking at Hyunjin but you swear you can see him awkwardly fidgeting in his seat.

When the car stops in front of Yeri's house, you feel your whole body freeze.

“I'm going to take y/n home, I forgot I had to run an errand for dad”, Chan says, making instant panic grow in your body.

“There's no need, I can walk”, you tell him, opening the door of the car.

“Girl? You told me you were not feeling well, he's going that way anyways”, Yeri says, frowning. She's probably confused as to why you don't want to accept the ride. What if she starts suspecting you? What if she starts making questions you don't know how to answer? Chan stares at you with a raised brown, waiting for you to come up with another excuse but you are afraid your best friend is going to realize you're trying to avoid her brother. So you just nod, going into the car again, this time in the passenger seat in the front.

The car goes on quietly throughout the ride, you are fidgeting with your fingers, looking anxiously outside the window, praying that you get home soon. When Chan parks in front of your house, your first instinct is to open the door so you can run out of that situation, but that's when you realize the car is locked.

“Hm, can you let me go?” You murmur, not taking your eyes out of the window.

“Not until you look at me”, he tells you, voice more hoarse than you remember but you do it, you look at him just so he can let you go.

“Happy?” You ask, cheeks burning while you stare at him but the look in his face is the opposite of happiness, he seems hurt.

“Do you hate my feelings for you so much?” He asks, scowling. “If you can't stand the thought of me just say it, don't run away”

You sigh, he looks desperate, like he's going to break apart if you don't hold him right now.

“Chan- I-”, you have no words to tell him. “I made a promise to your sister, that I'd never fall for you”, you tell him, hoping he can understand you.

“What about me? You don't care a bit about me?”

“I do”, you sigh, “but what should I do? You want me to choose between you or Yeri? You know she's my best friend”

“I guess I'm nothing to you, then”, he unlocks the car, bending over you to open the door. “I'm sorry I made you stay”, he murmurs.

“You know that's not what I meant”, you try but he shakes his head.

“It's fine, I came on too strong. I guess I'm just tired of this unrequited love”, he sighs, smiling gently at you but you can see the sadness in his eyes.

Chan has been in love with you since he was 17, when he found you unconscious in the bathroom his heart stopped for a few seconds before he could move and try to wake you. He shook you awake, worriedly, smelling the scent of whisky coming from you, he couldn't believe you had drunk and was blacked out in his bathroom.

When you groaned, fluttering your eyes open he couldn't let you see his face so he just pulled his phone out of his pocket, taking pictures of your face while he chuckled to your rumbles, arguing with him.

Chan didn't accept that he liked you at first. He made you do his tasks for him, go to the store with him and have you cheer for him on his school games, he thought he could prove to himself that he didn't like you like that, but spending so much time with you only made him realize that it was not something small, he liked you for real.

You never looked at him twice but he was okay with that because you were never interested in anyone romantically, so Chan was able to keep his feelings to himself, hoping that one day you would look at him. When he went to college, he thought he would get over you but no one got him slightly interested, all he could think about was the day he would get to see you again when he went back home.

He didn't expect to find you in a relationship when he got back for his first break out of college, well, you never made it official but you were glued to that guy like you’d die if you stayed away from him for a second and it hurt Chan so much to watch you being in love with someone else.

It didn't last long, the guy turned out to be a huge asshole who was two-timing, that's why he never asked you to be his girlfriend. Chan spent so many nights awake in his bed, listening to your cries in Yeri's room, devastated because your first love didn't work out.

Well, Chan was also sad that his first love didn't feel the same about him either so he could understand your pain. When it was time for you to go to college on the other side of the country he hoped once more that he could forget you. Chan wished you'd find someone worth it in college and that the same happened to him so he could let go of his feelings for you.

However, he should have known that his feelings are much deeper than that. When you showed up in the pool that afternoon he honestly thought he was going to throw up. He hadn't seen you in a year and of course he didn't forget how beautiful you are, but there was something different about you and he couldn't quite understand what.

Chan caught you eyeing him up and even though that could mean nothing, he wished that for the first time you were seeing him like he wanted you to. So he started to make moves, nothing obvious, but most certainly provocative. He wanted you to feel charmed by him, he wanted you to pay attention to him.

All his hopes were shattered after you avoided him for an entire week. He really thought that you'd come around soon, that you'd give him a chance. He should have known that you'd never choose him over Yeri and he should be happy about that, right? You're loyal to his sister. But he really wanted you to be his, this time he really hoped you'd be his.

He tries not to bump into you when you're in his house and avoids doing anything with Yeri when she mentions you're coming too. Just like that two weeks go by without him seeing your face, it hurts like hell but he knows it's for the best. You made your decision and he should respect that, he should move on.

So when Hyunjin — who's aware of Chan's struggles with his feelings for you — suggests to set Chan up with a friend of his, the older man is hesitant but accepts in the end, it's not going to be good for him to just stay at home, moping sadly about you not returning his feelings.

She's pretty, he's not going to pretend she's not, but he can't help but to think she's not as pretty as you. She's nice and kind, he thinks that he could easily fall in love with her if you didn't already owe his heart.

He tries with all his might to not think about you, he tries to focus on her. How her hair falls down on her shoulder and how she laughs softly. But you stay there, in the back of his mind, reminding him that he's not going to forget you that easily.

“Why are you here alone?” You hear Yeri's voice in the corridor, making you walk out of her room to see with who she's talking to. Hyunjin is laying down on Chan's bed, scrolling on his phone.

“Waiting for your brother to get back”, he shrugs, not even looking at Yeri.

“Where did he go?” She asks, crossing her arms in front of her chest, trying to look confident, even though her cheeks are pink. She hates when Hyunjin acts so indifferent, it makes her nervous.

“He went on a date”, Hyunjin says and your eyes immediately go out of your best friend's face to him. Your heart starts beating so fast in your chest that you can hear it in your ears.

What does he mean “a date”? Chan told you he liked you so why would he go on a date?

“I didn't know he was seeing someone”, you thank Yeri for asking something and Hyunjin looks at you, not her.

“Well, the girl he likes is being an idiot so he just decided to move on”, he smirks, making your cheeks burn. So he knows about you and Chan? Not that there ever existed something between the two of you but he definitely knows that Chan likes you.

“I didn't even know he had his eyes on someone”, Yeri says, confused.

“Your brother is full of secrets, it seems”, Hyunjin sits on the bed, stretching out. “I'll go now, he just texted me saying he was not coming home for another two or three hours”, the man says, standing up and walking past you and Yeri, seizing the opportunity to bump into you.

You're confused too, just like Yeri. How could her brother say those things to you, tell you he likes you just for him to move on so easily? Of course you didn't want him to keep trying anything with you so why does your chest hurt so much right now? Why do you feel like your heart is being ripped out of your chest?

“Y/n!” You hear Yeri's voice, a pitch higher than usual, which means it's not the first time she's trying to get your attention. “Are you listening?”

“Yes, of course”, you nod, paying attention to what she says next.

“I can't believe Chan liked someone this whole time, why did he not tell me?” She wonders and you nod, “maybe it was you, that's why he didn't tell me”, she laughs out loud, making you stare at her for a second. “I'm kidding babes, why does it look like you have seen a ghost?” She jokes, spinning on her heels and walking back to her room, whining about how much she's gonna pester her brother for not telling her about his crush.

You couldn't sleep, every time you closed your eyes Chan showed up with that damn smirk of his. You hate him, you really do, how could he do this to you? Cause all this turmoil of emotions inside you and then just replace you with the first pretty girl that showed up?

It's well past midnight and the man is not home yet, you know that just because you have been walking left and right — for the last hour and a half, in his living room. You were already going to stay over but you didn't plan to meet Chan and much less planned on confronting him about this little game he's playing.

So when the front door is opened and a visibly tired Chan enters the house, you cross your arms in front of your chest, trying to look intimidating but you're sure you look anything but that. He stops on his tracks when he sees you, blinking a few times before closing the door behind him.

“You're here”, he says, avoiding your eyes.

“How was your date?” You ask, raising your brows in annoyance.

“Hmm... how do you know about that?” He looks at you, frowning.

“Does it matter?” You scoff, feeling your cheeks burning. You know you have no right to be doing this but at the same time you can't help it, your chest is aching too much. “I just think it's funny how you confessed to me a few weeks ago and now you're going around dating whomever”

“I don't understand”, he scowls, walking to where you are. “You rejected me, so why does it bother you that I may be going on dates?”

“It doesn't”, you shrug, feeling caught in your own trap. “I just find it crazy ‘cause the way you confessed made it look like you were in love with me or shit but I guess I got it wrong”

“Well, I am in love with you”, he informs, “I have been for years, y/n. But you don't want me and I'm tired of waiting for you to look at me, okay? I'm trying to move on so I can be happy with someone who likes me”

You gulp, holding back on the strange urge to tell him that you like him in that way, that you want to be happy with him.

“I guess you're right”, you step back. You know you're wrong and you don't want to lose Yeri's friendship but at the same time it hurts so much to let go of him, of this feeling that you don't even know when it started.

“I'm glad we are on the same page”, he murmurs, moving past you to go up the stairs but you can't let him, you can't give up on this. It's the first time that you ever felt this way about someone, that you really are about to risk ruining your friendship, but you can't let him go, not this time and possibly not in the future.

So you grab his wrist, making him stop on his tracks. Chan turns around slowly, brows knit together in confusion.

“What if I asked you to not move on?” You feel your cheeks burn, not looking into his eyes at first but when he says nothing you're forced to lock eyes with him. “What if I asked you to keep liking me?”

You don't think you have ever seen someone's face glow up so fast, Chan went from confused and sad to surprised and shining in the split of a second. He steps closer to you, bringing his hands to cup your face.

“I'd tell you that you're the only one I want”, he leans in so close, you can feel his breath hitting in your skin. “I'd ask you to please give me a chance to show you how much you mean to me”

He waits a few seconds, giving you time to regret and run away but you don't, you close your eyes, waiting for him to kiss you and that's exactly what he does, soft lips touching yours gently, like you're going to break if he does anything hasty. Your hands go to the hem of his shirt, grabbing on the fabric to try and have some balance because your legs are about to give out.

You want to moan, honestly. He's so hot it's crazy, the way he's leaning over you, his body is not even touching yours but you can feel the warmth coming from his body, you can only imagine how good it must feel to be pressed against him.

You part the kiss to try and breath, but your face is so red with the impure thoughts you're having that you immediately take a few steps away from him, like you're going to jump his bones if you stay too close.

Chan groans, making you peek at him, even though you're still embarrassed about your crazy reaction to a simple kiss.

“Can you stop running away every time I kiss you?” He asks.

“I can assure you this time I'm not running away, I'm only trying to protect you from the pervert in me you just woke up”, you hiccup, why do you always say too much when you're nervous?

As expected of the tease Chan is, he raises a brow, stepping close to you.

“I'd like to get to know the pervert version of you, if you let me”, he grabs your hips, pulling you closer to him and pressing you against his body. You could die right now, you'd die happy. You can feel his muscular chest pressed on yours and he sneaks his hands lower until he reaches your ass, making you stay so close to him that you are sure you can feel something hard pressing against your stomach.

“Should I let you?” You try teasing him, feeling like an idiot for even trying but to your surprise it works, Chan grunts, kissing you again, this time more desperately like he would die if didn't feel your lips on his now.

Your kiss is interrupted by the sounds of a door closing upstairs, making you two pull away from each other, breathless. His face is red and his lips are puffy and you're no better than that.

You start fixing your hair and trying to look the most normal possible as you run to the kitchen to get a glass of water. When you come back, Yeri is coming down the stairs, grinning at Chan.

“I guess your date went well”, she teases, making him blush.

“I liked better what came after the date, actually”, he grins, eye siding you, making you choke on the water you're drinking to try and hide the mess on your face.

“Gross", Yeri says, disgusted. When she looks around, her eyes find you. "Oh, y/n, I came looking for you. You were not on the bedroom when I woke up”

“Yeah, I came down to get some water”, you lie.

“Are you okay? Your face is all red, do you have a fever?” She asks, worriedly, walking closer to you to put her hand on your forehead to compare your temperature with hers. “Hm, I don't think you have a fever”

“I'm sure it's just the hot weather”, you explain, “let's go back to sleep”

You push Yeri back to the stairs, going up with her and when you look behind to get one last look from Chan, he's smiling like an idiot, mouthing something like “I'll text you”, making you blush and shake your head, going up back to Yeri's room.

#stray kids #stray kids bangchan #skz bangchan #bangchan imagines #bangchan #skz x y/n #skz x you #skz x reader #bangchan x reader #bangchan x you #stray kids scenarios #skz imagines #stray kids imagines #skz scenarios #skz fluff #skz angst #skz #skz imagine #stray kids imagine #stray kids x y/n #stray kids x you #stray kids x reader

[lovecanyon]

Inside Y/N L/N’s Bag | Vogue | Dad!H

MASTERLIST | PATREON

“Hi Vogue I am Y/N L/N and this is what’s in my bag.”

After she introduces herself, Y/N looks down at the bag in her lap. The bag she had used every single day was a personalized Pleasing mesh bag. It was a light pink color and had a blue ribbon tied onto one of the straps.

It was clear that it meant a lot to her.

“What I carry with me everyday is this.” She says grabbing onto her bag. “You can fit anything in here. And the thing about this is, it’s technically Inez’s diaper bag.”

Y/N then grins at the memory of Harry gifting her the tote.

“This specific bag was gifted to me by my husband a while ago, right before he had launched Pleasing. My son actually loves this bag and has one of his own but smaller. He doesn't go anywhere without it.” Y/N shares.

Setting her carrier onto the wooden coffee table in front of her, the Styles woman reaches into her bag and pulls out a bag of candy. Beau's favorite type.

Y/N remembers the night when Harry had got their son addicted to the chocolate minstrels.

“My son is obsessed with these and when I saw them I had to get them for him.” She laughs. “I spoil my kids way too much.”

The next thing Y/N pulled out was her phone. Just a plain iPhone 14 with a case that she had stolen from Harry or borrowed it, so she said. Once she taps on the screen her face lights up.

Her lock screen was a photo of a newborn Inez sleeping on Harry’s chest with Beau right beside them.

She almost shed a tear.

“This is my phone, nothing special until you look at the lock screen.” Y/N grins. She loved her family so deeply.

After placing her phone onto the table, she slides her hand into her carrier pulling out a blue bandanna. It previously belonged to Harry until Inez came around and slid the bandanna off of her father’s head.

It was truly her favorite thing in the world. You could say it was sort of like a safety blanket for her.

“Harry’s bandanna or should I say Inez’s bandanna. That girl loves this thing so much.”

-

A small bag of diapers, bibs, toy trucks, hair clips that she had stole back from Harry, kids sunscreen, Love on Tour’s backstage/V.I.P passes, bandaids, Harry’s headphones, her family’s passports and a camera

“Since we’re currently on tour and always traveling I always have to carry my children’s essentials.” Y/N explains looking at all the items laid out in front of her. “You can never be unprepared.”

Just five years ago her bag was filled with very different items than now. She was now a mother and had a family with a man she’s always wanted to grow old with.

Two kids later and she’s become a changed woman, a better one. She’s always valued the life she had, especially right now. Y/N couldn't have been more happy.

“Another toy!” Y/N laughs, pulling out another toy from her bag. “A mini statue of our dog Kendall who was actually named after Kendall Roy from Succession since Harry is obsessed with that show.” She holds out a miniature dog in her palm.

Following the toy, she slides out a pair of rings that clearly belonged to Harry Styles since they were his initials.

Y/N leans forward and slips the rings into her back pocket. She remembers the last time Harry had lost jewelry. It was at Coachella and he went insane looking for them.

“We are not losing any more rings.”

Comments:

harryfan2 WHEN WAS THEIR WEDDING OMFG?????

harryfan10 best mother in the world truly

harryfan4 harry’s love for succession has me rolling 😭😭

harryfan8 this. is. what. we. needed.

harryfan13 THE LOCK SCREEN

harryfan7 i cannot stress how much i love this video

harryfan5 the literal girl version of harry

harryfan9 harry is finally y/n’s husband 🧎‍♂️

harryfan11 i’m literally crying

-

tag list: @harrysmatcha @harryspinkpillow @helen-with-an-a @florencepughily @peterparkerbae @toji-dabi-wife @fallonx @drphilssoulmate @cherriesrae @alienorknight @valluvsu @ayeshathestyles @hazgoldenstyles @eiffelmezarry @tsukishimawhore @renatavieira @michellekstyles @eleanordaisy @shawnsblue @agustdpeach @hannahnikohl @whoscamila @ch3rryrry @msolbesg @futuristicpalacegardenpsychic @youusunshineyoutemptress @cherryfragrancx @milkiane @golden-hoax @sunshinemendes8 @your--sweetest--downfall @melllinaa @tenaciousperfectionunknown @cashtons-wife @stellarossii @scenesofobx @manifestrry @lomlolivia

#harry styles x reader #dad!harry #harry styles #harry styles au #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #boyfriend!harry #husband!harry #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #harry styles fake ig #harry styles fan fic #dilf!harry #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine

[multifandomgirl08]

Change [Mini Verstappen Series]

Dad!Max Verstappen x Fem!Reader (Established Relationship)

Summary: It's the end of the F1 season. Some things are changing for the Verstappen's.

Warning(s): Make out session (Non graphic), Time jump from Part 1, Google Translated Dutch, mention(s) of Christian Horner in passing, Mixed Media (Story + Social Media)

A/N: It's not August, but since Part 1 got 1k notes I figured this deserved to be posted early. It wasn't supposed to be this long, I got a little carried away in the end... Should have the next (mini) part up after Belgium. Please don't be afraid to fill my ask box with ideas for this series.

Words: 3.1k

Previous Part → Next Part Mini Verstappen Masterlist

In the year that you met Nico, a lot of things changed. Most of them were changes for you. A change of job, a change of address, and a lifestyle change.

After two years of dating Max and spending time with Nico, you realized that you didn't want to be half in half out. It took a bit of time but you had found a job that let you work from home, so if Max needed anything you were only a phone call away. Moving to Monaco was a little tougher given that you were on a work visa, but it meant that you got to spend more time with Max when he wasn't working.

It was easier to pack a small duffle bag and go to his apartment than it was to get on a flight to see him for a few hours. And spending time with Nico was a joy.

He was quiet, but he had a way of expressing his emotions with his eyes. If you put food he didn’t like in front of him, he would pout and then he would scrunch his brows together in disgust.

It was nice though, Max would be stuck on his driving sim for a while, so you would take Nico and play with his trains or read him a book until he had to take a nap. Once Max was off the sim, it gave you a chance to answer emails and get through the tasks that you had to do that day. Then, in the evening, you would make dinner together and then eat before putting Nico to bed.

"Mimi," Nico had taken to calling you. You stood in the doorway of his room waiting for him to get into bed so that Max could tuck him in while you packed up your things to take home.

"Yeah, Neeks?" You asked.

"Can you and Papa tuck me in?" He asked. You were surprised that Nico wanted you and Max to tuck him in. He and Max had a routine and you didn't try to make yourself a part of it. You would watch as the father-son pair went about their nighttime routine.

Max would go and do the dishes while Nico went to brush his teeth and change for bed. It gave you and Max a few minutes to yourselves. A few quick stolen kisses before little feet started to run on the hardwood floor. Max would give you another quick kiss before picking up Nico in his arms and taking him into his room before tucking him in for the night.

You looked on into Nico's room to see him in the middle of his bed under the sheets waiting to be tucked in.

"Let me ask him. Okay?" You told Nico seeing the little boy nod his head.

You did need to tell Max, you didn’t want to insert yourself into a routine that wasn’t yours. You had only spent the night at Max’s apartment a few times, and it was mostly when you were too tired to go home. Those few times had been happening more often given that Max was back to traveling for work and the sitter that Max had hired was also moving back home.

You had made your way back into the kitchen to see Max closing the dishwasher before wiping his hands.

“Is he ready for bed?” He asked you.

“Yeah, he asked if… if we could both tuck him in.” You slowly said. You could see his smile growing wide. He already knew that Nico had asked that you both tuck him in.

“Why wouldn’t he, you tuck me in pretty well when you stay over.” You knew exactly what Max meant. So you just shook your head at him, you couldn’t help but laugh that he would be thinking about that now.

“Max!” You couldn’t believe him. You gave him a light shove before he started laughing. “Please come tuck in your son.” You jokingly pleaded before kissing Max on the cheek and feeling his hands move down to your waist. You moved to hold Max’s hand as you walked to Nico’s room.

“Ready for bed, kleine man,” Max said as you both walked through the doorway.

Nico gave a nod, “Ready, Papa.”

You helped Max turn down Nico’s sheets before tucking the covers around the little boy’s feet.

“Vergeet het haar niet te vragen.” Nico muttered before snuggling into his bedsheets.

Max spoke Dutch to Nico every once in a while. It was mostly simple phrases but Nico seemed to grasp the language rather well.

“Ik zal het niet doen.” You looked at Max and saw him lean over and kiss Nico’s forehead.

Both you and Max walked out of Nico’s room, “Night, Nico.” You said.

“Sleep well,” Max said before turning the lights off in Nico’s room and closing his bedroom door.

You knew that Nico would be out like a light once Max closed the door. You walked into Max’s living room and put your computer back into your bag. Once Nico was asleep you would stay until right before Max needed to head to bed. He did have a race the next day, so he wouldn’t stay up too late.

“Movie?” You asked him.

Max gave a slight nod, you wouldn’t finish the movie. You would get just over halfway through before Max would need to get some sleep.

You picked up the remote to hand to him before getting comfortable on his couch settling yourself in his lap. It was easy to snuggle up to Max. You both started looking through all of the options he had on Netflix, he stopped clicking at the remote, “I was wondering if you would want to come to the race next week.”

You were surprised. You had never gone to one of Max’s races, mostly because he had never offered so you never asked. You were okay with just being with him without all of the extra things that came with dating him.

“Are you asking for-” You knew that Nico was going to the race. He had been excited to see Max race in person. Max tried to keep Nico away from the track as much as he could, but that boy loved it just as much as Max did.

“No.” So he wasn’t asking just so someone would be there to watch over Nico. “We’ve been together for two years, and I’ve never asked you to come because I don’t want to pressure you into dealing with the fans and the media.”

In that regard, you were glad that Max understood that all of those things weren’t for you.

“But it’s the last race of the season and I would like both my son and my girlfriend there.” Max did have a point. It was the second season that you were together, and it would be nice to actually go to one of his races and be there to support him instead of sitting at home with Nico watching the race.

Flying to Abu Dhabi for Max’s race would be interesting, you knew that Nico had a passport but you have never spent more than a day or two with the little boy without Max present.

“Yeah, I would love that.” You would probably have to work from your laptop that Friday while Max was at practice but Nico would love watching qualifying and then the race the next day if he didn’t fall asleep halfway through.

Max looked at you and smiled wide, it was so genuine that you couldn’t help but reach over and kiss him. As your lips met, Max was quick to pull you under him on the couch, letting the tips of his fingers trace the bare skin that was just under the hem of your shirt. Your head met one of the pillows on the couch as he slowly laid you down moving between your legs. Your hands moved over the plains of his back which was covered with a thin black shirt that hugged his arms. It was unfair how good he looked.

It wasn’t long before Max turned off the TV and pulled you with him into his room to get some sleep. You wouldn’t be going back to your apartment tonight.

One Week Later - Sunday

Before going to where you would be sitting during the race, You and Nico were on your way to Red Bull hospitality. Max had made sure to drop off your passes on Friday when you had gotten in after he was done at the track on your first day in Abu Dhabi.

“Well if it isn’t the next generation of Red Bull racing,” You heard from the one and only Daniel Ricciardo as you and Nico walked around the paddock before the race.

“Dan!” Nico said letting go of your hand and then ran to Daniel, throwing his arms around the older man’s shoulders as Daniel kneeled on the ground.

You had come to learn from Max that Daniel was with him the day that he found out about Nico. He had gone with him to see Max’s agent and offered to be there the first time that Max had met his son. Max was lucky to have a friend like him.

“Look at you, all ready to go.” He pulled Nico back a little to see his replica racing suit. “If your dad wasn’t in the car, I would think that you were after his job.” Nico had insisted on wearing the replica Red Bull racing suit that Christian had gotten him for his birthday a few weeks ago. Christian treated Nico like the grandson he didn’t have, which included getting him gifts that Max didn’t know about. He wanted to hide it from Max until this weekend, not wanting to jinx a third-world championship win for him.

Given that Max made Pole during qualifying you had unpacked the racing suit from your bag that was hidden in one of your sweaters in case Max ended up looking in your bag.

“Maybe I am.” Nico muttered at Daniel. You couldn’t help but slightly raise your brow at Nico before you saw Daniel shake his head. “Nico.” You warned.

“It’s okay Y/N. If he were any more like Max, he would be Max.” Daniel was used to it by now. He knew that Nico was just like his dad in so many ways. It wasn’t just that they looked alike.

“Very true.” You agreed with him.

“So you here for the whole race?” Daniel asked. Nico walked back to you before he started messing with your paddock passes.

“Yeah, hopefully, someone doesn’t fall asleep until it’s over.” You brushed your fingers through Nico’s hair.

You hoped that Nico would be able to stay awake long enough to see Max by the time the race was over. You knew when you got back to the hotel Nico would be dead tired and go straight to bed.

“Well, I’m sure him sleeping through one race won’t hurt too bad. Max’s been winning championships almost as long as this one’s alive.” That was true, Max had won his first championship just after Nico had turned 1. “Maybe, you’re his good luck charm. Ay, Nico.”

Nico gave a small shrug of his shoulders before pulling at your shirt.

“I should take him back to hospitality before the race starts.” Nico hadn’t eaten lunch earlier claiming that he wasn’t hungry. “Don’t want to get hounded by cameras.” You knew that it was going to be harder after the race.

“You and Max still haven’t…” Daniel didn’t have to finish his sentence for you to know what he was talking about. Both you and Max had agreed that you didn’t want the media to know about Nico yet. It was still too soon. Maybe once the season was over.

“Not yet.” Daniel just nodded in understanding.

“Alright, guess I’ll let you go hide Mini Max from the vultures,” Daniel said with a smile.

“Okay,” You lightly chuckled. “Have a good race.”

Nico quickly walked over to Daniel to give him a hug and a big wave before reaching to take your hand again.

It was a short walk over to where you and Nico would be sitting during the race.

It wasn’t long before the race started when Nico pointed down at Max’s car and muttered, “Papa.” while holding food in his little hands. Nico kept watch of the cars zooming around the track and made sure to pay attention when there was an announcement about something that happened.

Halfway through the race, Nico moved to rest his head against your arm, his eyes would close every once in a while. You leaned down to kiss the top of his head feeling him snuggle closer to your side.

The race seemed to pass by rather fast. Max made the next 20 or so laps around the track in record time. Nico had woken up with 10 laps left for Max to complete. Hamilton had tried to overtake at the start of the last lap but never managed to pass Max. It wasn’t long after that you saw everyone from the Red Bull garage walking out to the track watching as Max’s car crossed the finish line as the checkered flag was waved.

Just after you heard it over the speakers. “Max Verstappen wins the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix and is a 3-time Champion of the World!”

You were quick to collect Nico into your arms giving him a kiss on the cheek, “Papa won.” The little boy threw his arms around your neck at the words. Max’s car was making donuts not far from where you and Nico were. Fireworks were going off as you moved out of your seat.

You were quick to grab your bag and take Nico down with you to the garage where you saw people hugging. It didn’t take long for you to see Max, he was still in his helmet but you let go of Nico’s hand so he could run up to his dad and gave him a hug. You watched on as the father and son pair embraced in their matching fireproofs.

You had caught Max’s eyes which were normally hidden by his visor and could tell that he was smiling. Max was holding Nico with one arm and stretched his other hand out for you. You walked closer to him and clasped your hand in his before he gave you Nico moving to take off his helmet. He pulled it off and you could see the lines from the inside padding of his helmet. You reached up passionately kissing him on the lips.

“Congratulations!” You had to yell over all of the other noise that surrounded the three of you. You could see a few tears falling from Max’s eyes as he took in you holding Nico.

“Mijn familie.” You had a pretty clear idea of what he just said, letting a stray tear fall from your eyes. Nico tried to curl up into Max’s chest but somehow ended up squashed between the two of you in a cocoon-like hug.

“Go, enjoy your podium. We’ll wait for you after.” You said into his ear.

“You sure?”

You nodded at his question. Nico had taken a nap during the race, you could wait to take him back to the hotel later. He should get to see his father achieve his dream in person. Nico gave Max another hug, and the older Verstappen kissed you quickly on the forehead before being dragged away by the men in navy blue. Charles found you not long after a small celebration with the guys in Ferrari having finished P2.

You watched from the crowd as Max got sprayed with champagne and then proceeded to cover Christian in it as well. You watched on as Max celebrated. You had to wonder. How often did someone get to achieve their dream three times over?

Max was on the podium with Christian for a little longer before being pulled off to go and answer some questions.

Christian had come over to you and taken Nico to get a few pictures with Max’s trophy. Geri assured you that she would bring Nico back. You trusted her, how could you not trust a Spice Girl?

You didn’t have to wait a long time after that to see Max again. The top of his fireproofs had come off and now he was just in the shirt that was underneath it. He was standing there covered in sweat and champagne with a dopey grin on his face.

You walked over to him, cupping his cheeks and pulling him down to meet your lips. You ran your fingers through his short hair feeling how sticky the sweet liquid was, and wanting him as close as possible.

“Move in with me.” he said as he pulled back from the kiss.

“What?” You questioned letting your eyes drop to his lips. “Move in with me, Y/N. Help me take Nico to school, and be there every day to see him grow up.” You knew that it wasn’t a marriage proposal. It was Max asking you to move in with him and help raise Nico. He wanted Nico to see you as more than just his papa’s girlfriend.

You met his eyes, seeing as he searched yours before nodding. You could feel the tears welling up in your eyes again, and your lips met his again, savoring the taste of champagne from his lips. You knew that you would be covered in it by the time you left the track.

“I love you.” You felt him mumble against your lips.

“I love you too.” You let your fingers sink into the fabric of Max’s fireproofs.

“Where’s Nico?” Max’s eyes looked around to see if he would find him anywhere.

“With Christian. Geri said that she would bring him back.” As the words left your mouth you saw the redhead out of the corner of your eyes holding your little boy.

Nico saw the two of you and started to squirm in Geri’s arms before running to both you and Max.

You couldn’t help but slightly stumble back into Max as Nico crashed into both of you, Max’s arms now around your waist holding you so you didn’t fall. Nico gripped you around your knees, his light brown hair brushed against the fabric of your jeans.

You leaned back a little to kiss Max, gripping the side of his neck. You couldn’t wait to have this every day.

wagsoff1

3,543 likes

wagsoff1 Max Verstappen and his girlfriend Y/N L/N seen leaving a private party in Belgium for New Year's

fan40 Is she wearing Alexis Mabille?

fan34 Who is that man? And what had Y/N done to Max Verstappen?

fan80 It's official! She's met Sophie.

fan58 Is Mad Max gone?

fan29 Doesn't seem like it. He's still competitive when he's driving. Just because he cares about his girlfriend doesn't mean it's going to affect the way he performs in the car.

Jan 2, 2024

Translations:

kleine man - little man

Vergeet het haar niet te vragen. - Don't forget to ask her.

Ik zal het niet doen. - I won't.

Mijn familie - My family.

#max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #mv33 imagine #mv1 imagine #formula 1 imagine #Mini Verstappen Series #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #Max Verstappen

[macfrog]

secrets cowboy like me chapter fourteen

one day i'll rein my chapters back in. today is not that day. thirteen thousand words of...a little bit of fucking and a lot of fighting. i love you all and i still can't believe the love you continue to show this series. you're all actually insane. i present to you: the penultimate chapter of cowboy.

pairing: dbf!joel miller x fem!reader

summary: the one where...everybody finds out.

warnings: age gap (reader is 23, joel is 48), a big argument, a lot of guilt, angry disappointed dad, one mention of alcohol consumption, lil bit of sub!joel, unprotected piv, tiny bit of degradation, tiny bit of praise kink, creampie, cursing, smut, fluff, angst 

word count: 12.9k (dry heaves) 

series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist | follow @macfroglets w notifs on to be the first to hear when i post 🧡

You haven’t slept a wink. Not one second.

You and Joel were awake until one in the morning on the phone; you – panicking, spilling words into the receiver, watching different cuts of your dad realizing everything as though projected across your blank ceiling, and Joel – monotone as fucking ever, batting every single theory away.

He doesn’t know a damn thing, he’d said. You didn’t miss the way his words hung over the edge of the sentence, trembling almost.

You scoffed and hissed back down the line. You don’t fucking know that! How can you know that?

You think he just found out about us and thought, Hey, better get some shut-eye before I deal with this? Really, baby?

I think he doesn’t know what he found out. I think he’s probably tryna convince himself that he’s wrong.

So, let him. He’s wrong. We go with that.

Joel knew he wasn’t doing anything to calm you down. Wasn’t offering anything you could seriously take on. You know he wasn’t trying to.

He was as worried as you were – he was just pretending not to be, because what fucking good would it do to have the two of you bouncing off one another with panic?

Still, he stayed on the phone the entire night. When he fell asleep, you lay in bed and tossed everything over in your head like tearing back the pages of a diary. Last night, then Frank’s, then the weekend before that, then the Hillcrest – all the way back to that first ride home. The pissing rain, the boxes of nails rattling in the glove compartment with each sway of the truck. Recalling every word spoken, every move made, every expression pulled and glance stolen and fucking breath taken.

Any sound from beyond your door shot a bullet of adrenaline through your veins, coursing through your body like ice. As if it was your dad, barreling in at 3AM to have it out with you.

You reckon you’d be ready if he did. Wide-eyed, fists clenched, heart hammering.

Joel groans back to life at eight. You hear the ruffling of bedsheets, the crackle down the line as he drags the phone across his mattress and pins it to his ear. You lift your own. Joel and 08:43:36, 37, 38 underneath it on the screen.

His voice drums low and groggy from the speaker. “You are gonna have my phone bill through the damn roof. I’m exhausted, darlin’.”

“I can’t think of anything else. He knows, Joel.”

He sighs. You can see his head falling into his hand, see his thumb rubbing circles into his temple. “Let’s just see what happens, alright? There ain’t any chance you left your phone in the living room ‘n he came across it, thought he’d keep it for you comin’ home?”

“I’ve barely left my room all week. Why would it be down there?”

Joel’s quiet. He just breathes down the line. After a minute, he clears his throat.

“Come over, would ya?”

“Huh?”

“Come over. I wanna see you. I wanna make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m fine, Joel, I’m –”

“Hey. Don’t make me ask again, alright? C’mon, now. I got some errands to run; you’re coming with me.”

He doesn’t have to say much else to convince you; you’re already pulling your bedsheets back and hanging up. Your hoodie and shorts are still hooked over the foot of your bed. The sun filters through the drapes, edges you nearer the door. Your chest fills with something calling itself bravery, and slowly, quietly – you click the door open.

The hallway is silent. A blushing gold in the morning light. The house is still – eerily still. Your dad’s room door is open, bed made, sheets tucked neatly under the mattress. Like he had time to spend on it. Stuff to mull over as he made it.

The carpet softens your footsteps when you finally move for the stairs. The birds are singing outside. The wallpaper canvases your shadow, a little monster creeping along one step behind you, passing picture frames which dazzle with sunrays and mirror a half-lit reflection back to you. One side you – the other, missing.

You lean over the last step, craning your head and shoulders into the hallway. The clock on the wall opposite ticks to no one. Tick tick tick tick. And aside from it, from its taunting tutting, there are no other signs of life. His jacket hangs from the peg. His boots lying below, laces tangled.

The sun separates into brittle shards through the window, illuminating the way to the kitchen. You’re not fucking prepared to follow it.

Shoulders hunched, like it might make a difference, you step forward and lower your thumb and index finger over your keys, aiming for them like a shaky arcade claw machine. Tick tick tick. They jingle as you hook your fingertip through them. Your nose wrinkles.

“Hey.”

He appears around the corner like an apparition. The keys drop back to the unit with a violent clatter.

“Jesus!”

“Woah, woah.” Your dad holds a palm up, laughing nervously. “Sorry. Where you headed?”

“Uh, J– Sarah’s. Some errands she wants some help with.”

He nods. “Yeah? You don’t want breakfast first?”

You drag your eyes to meet his for the first time. He looks drawn, skin like webbing, as though it’s just draped over his skull. As though you could put your finger through it like parchment, just push straight through. He looks like he’s had about as much sleep as you have.

“No, thanks,” you say, the sunken, sullen sight of him crumbling your voice to dust. Your lips move wordlessly, waiting for another lie from your tongue to offer over. But between the way he looks, weary and forlorn, and the thin veil of truth left between you – nothing materializes.

“Why don’t you – why don’t you hold back a second?” Dad beckons you forward, folding his fingers to his palm. “Got somethin’ I wanna talk to you about.”

“Dad, I really gotta go, I –”

“Just – come on. I’m sure Sarah won’t mind.”

He disappears without waiting for a response. Shifts back into the living room, shadow following him like a cloak across the door. You hear the creak of his chair as he settles down into it, the unsettling squeal of leather and spring.

Your feet are planted to the hall floor. To move in either direction feels like a trap. To follow after him – sit opposite and swallow back what you think you know is coming. All of his suspicions stuck in your throat like a bitter, powdery pill. Or to turn away – leave him in an empty house, nothing but the sound of his own breathing and that tick tick tick affirming your guilt.

No more excuses filter through – none of Joel’s ideas, none of his explanations. You let your shoulders drop and your eyes close. The only image behind them is that six-foot, graying, droning idiot who’s probably sat waiting for you to pull up so he can take you to fucking Trader Joe’s or whatever.

And his shirt, which he’d probably drape over your shoulders before he’s even said hello. And his smile, which would draw you onto your tiptoes, draw your lips to his. And his hands, and his waist, and his pulse in step with yours as you follow him around the quiet store, the Saturday morning air daring you to hook your fingers around two of his every now and then. The longing a gnawing in your chest, burrowing deep beneath the cage of your ribs.

He's not here, though. It’s just you. And if you call him now, if he shows up unannounced – it’s only going to confirm what your dad thinks. Fuck it – what he knows.

So you unstick your sneakers and haul yourself through to the living room.

He’s rocking in the chair when you sink back into the couch. Balls of his feet pushing him back and forth. His fingers to his lips, like keeping the words at bay for now. Like feeling the jagged shape of them through his skin.

You throw a pillow over your legs, shaggy ivory fringe tickling your bare thighs. Your dad doesn’t speak. When you lift your head, his eyes flit from yours down to your restless fingers knitting the tassels of his pillow.

“What is it?” you croak.

“Mind if I ask you somethin’?”

You shrug. “Go for it.”

He waits a beat. A hesitation. Like he doesn’t want to ask the first question. He’s at the edge of a cliff. One more step and he’s plummeting down the rocky side, into a fog of cloud. Nothing will ever be the same. Only – you’ve already pushed him. He’s already falling. He just hasn’t realized it yet.

Maybe he feels the drop in his stomach, right now. Maybe the wind screams in his ears. He finally asks, “When were you gonna tell me about y’all gettin’ into a barfight on Friday night?”

Unexpected. But keep your fucking cool.

Your fingertip whitens, blood halted by the knot of the cushion fringe. You chew on a torn leaf of skin from your lips. “What?”

“You ‘n Joel. When he picked you up. What the hell happened?”

Your eyes slide from his to the patio door behind him, garden lighting up with the sun scaling higher in the sky. You stare there until it burns, until it’s all just a blur of color in your vision, and then pull a half-blinded gaze back in his direction.

You’re frozen, as if he has you at gunpoint. Shoulders tense, eyes wide. Dontshootdontshootdontshoot. “Who –? Who said that?”

“Hank. Was on the phone to ‘im last night. Anna said Joel was squarin’ up to some kid in Frank’s. You wanna tell me exactly what happened?”

“Nothing.” Liar. “Nothing happened. It was just some asshole. Joel was just lookin’ out for me. For us. Me ‘n Anna.”

“She told Hank he knocked the kid out. That Sam had to stop it from gettin’ outta control.”

He stares at you, and there’s no mask on his face. No cover, no disguise. He’s suspicious. And he doesn’t care that you know it. He’s not just asking about the barfight.

“Are you gonna say it or am I, hon?”

“Say what?”

Your last thread of insane hope that he’s innocently wondering about Frank’s is snapped in two by the words that tear out of his mouth, so quick they rip into your skin like shards of glass.

“What the hell’s goin’ on between you two?”

Your body suddenly drops further into the couch, the weight of your blood freezing to ice in your veins. Your joints seize, your jaw locks. Air passes across your open lips with no intention of carrying words back out the way it came. You forget any ability you had previously to come up with excuses, to cover up, to lie. Hell, you’re not sure you’d remember your own fucking name if he asked that next.

You say nothing. And he cocks his head, drums his fingers on the arm of his chair.

Say something.

“Nothing.”

Say something more convincing.

“Nothing?” you repeat, a shrill pitch in your voice like it’s a question. Like he’s dumb for even thinking there might be something weird going on. Like he’s the idiot.

The clock in the hall ticks to itself, amused. Fifteen little snaps. Each one sounds like a plate of glass beneath your feet, cracking a little more, a little deeper, a little wider. The abyss opening its wide, dark jaws beneath you.

Your dad’s expression doesn’t change. He crosses his arms, head leaning back a little. He almost looks sad. Almost looks like he might give in. Send you on your way, on your errands with Sarah.

But something recharges him, something must flicker behind his eyes, because he sits forward again and watches your reaction intently as he says –

“Then explain the text messages you been sendin’ each other.”

Another blow hits your stomach, rippling waves of white heat through you. You feel hot, a scorching panic right beneath the surface of your skin so hot that it mistakes itself for ice cold. A panic which radiates from your heart, pulsating through your entire body, every limb beginning to shudder involuntarily. Your silence is answer enough.

He sighs. Sits forward with his elbows on his knees. “I knew y’all were close, knew you cared about each other. You sure always talked to ‘im more ‘n you ever talked to me, even before you went off to college. But I’ve been noticing things lately…Something’s different. Something’s changed.”

Your eyes trace his form as he talks. It’s fucking dizzying. He’s animated, like a character from some eighties cop show who finally solved the mystery. He knows. He knows everything. Your jaw won’t move to answer.

“Seeing you two together – talking, laughing. The way you look at each other these days. ‘n you’re always near each other, ain’t you? Always hoverin’. It ain’t anything like before. That day the three of us went to Costco, that – I –” His anger seems to boil over, cascading from his lips in an angry burst of hot breath. “I felt like a spare tire in the back of the truck that day.”

“We’re…We’re just…f-friends…I don’t –”

He holds a finger up. Doesn’t want to hear it. Not until his speech is done. The sun moves behind a cloud; the living room suddenly drains of light. “That day you said you were spending the night at Anna’s. Said you were havin’ a pool day, right?”

“Right,” you whisper, eyes closing over. They feel heavy. Tired and teary.

“Right. Except,” he brings his finger down, aims it straight at you, “Hank says you weren’t never there. Anna was at Sal’s all day Sunday.”

Fuck.

“Dad…”

You’re pleading with him now. Enough, I’ve heard enough. I know you know. As if you might still be able to stop the train, dig your heels in and hold on tight to derail it. Derail his thoughts. Salvage the situation, string it back together with shame and atonement.

But he doesn’t listen. He doesn’t even hear you.

“’n that’s when I got to thinkin’ – last Monday, at Joel’s. I went over to fix his sink – you remember I told you about his sink?” He doesn’t wait for a response. “I went over there, and he’s cookin’ this great big breakfast – pancakes, all of it – and there ain’t no one else in his house. Just him. Sarah was in Nashville, you remember?”

You take a deep breath. This is it. The ship’s beginning to disappear beneath the black waves.

“I thought maybe he had someone over, maybe expectin’ that girl from the plant hire…Anyway,” he bats his hand, bats the hopeful glint in Lois’s eye from his mind, “I’m walking downstairs, on my way out, and I notice somethin’ on the floor by the door.”

His chair squeaks timidly as he moves, his right arm lowering, scooping for something you can’t see yet. But when he shakily lifts it, your eyes fall to your knees. It hangs before you, apologetic and ashamed.

Joel was right. He knew it. You palmed him off. You told him your dad wouldn’t – couldn’t – put two and two together. And here he is, sat feet from you, holding the final piece to the puzzle in a quivering fist. Proof that, when he was in the house that day, you were only feet from him. Wrapped in his best friend’s shirt, dripping wet from his shower.

“This bag,” he hisses, and the tears finally drop onto your cheeks. They scurry to your chin, gathering and throwing themselves to your chest. Your shoulders drop, your eyes still low. You can’t look at him.

He speaks slowly. Speaks through his teeth. Every word like its own poisonous jab.

“Now you tell me: what in God’s name is your bag doin’ in Joel Miller’s hallway, at ten in the mornin’, when you’re supposed to be at Anna’s?”

Your fingers touch your forehead, a burning pain beginning to sting through your skull. You can feel your pulse in your temples. You’ve never wanted Joel to be stood in front of you so badly in all your life; just to deflect some of the interrogation off of you, just to give you breathing space. Just to protect you from the onslaught of questioning from your dad.

“No,” he mutters, shaking his head. The bag hits the carpet with a thud. “No, there ain’t no way. You were at Anna’s, right? You ain’t with Joel Miller, no way. I’m thinkin’, Please, God, don’t let that have been my daughter’s bag that day. But I’m right, ain’t I? You were there, weren’t you?”

You blink rapidly. The tears multiply quicker. The room is glossed in a protective film of salt and adrenaline. Give me something to say back. Give me something to say back.

“Where were you, hon? Musta been hidin’ somewhere, right?”

Give me something please think of something please come over please walk through that door please tell me what to say.

And then it comes to you. You blink the mist from your eyes. He said…he knew about texts you’d been sending Joel. How did he…?

“How did you know about the texts?”

“Pardon me?”

You straighten up and look him dead in the eye. Your voice feels hoarse. It sounds nothing like you. “How – did you know – about – the texts?”

“That’s your concern right now?”

“How – did you know?”

He begins to sputter, like the heat turned up under a pan on the hob. “Look, hon, you had me worried sick. Disappearin’ and I got no clue where you are. Always having an excuse to go off somewhere alone, no explanation. Don’t even get me started on those marks on your neck.”

Your hand immediately clamps around your throat, hot skin stained pink hissing into your palm. Joel’s teeth on you last night. His words cushioning the sharp bite. I love you. The heat hurts, now, when it felt so comforting just a few hours ago. It burns. It throbs. It feels like shame.

Your dad’s voice brings you back into the room.

“There’s another thing – last night,” he flings a laugh to you, “you were so quiet. So damn quiet. Didn’t say a word the entire time, and then I leave for all of ten minutes, and suddenly the two of you are headin’ over to his for – what was it? UCLA pamphlets?”

There’s a break between his words, a gap which makes you think that he wants you to answer. Like he’s giving you a chance, extending his arm. But he fills the space with a jeering laugh, and keeps talking.

“Where are they, huh? These pamphlets? ‘s why you were at Joel’s, right? Go on, go get ‘em. Show them to me.”

Your face solidifies. Lips tremble. There’s a scowl pulling your brows together. You’ve no right for it to be there. “Stop it,” you seethe. “Tell me what you did.”

“He’s the only one. The only one who could get you to talk. I had to check, kiddo. I had to know.”

Your stare doesn’t let up. Your lips bolt shut, refusing to say another word until he confesses. Which he does. Almost breezily.

“I looked through your phone. While you were gone. I – I went upstairs, ‘n I took it.”

He says it casually, as though he’s simply checked the newspaper. As though he’s just relaying the columns to you. Someone’s had a baby. Someone else won three grand on a scratch card. By the way, I know you’ve been messing around with Joel.

So it takes a minute for what he’s said to hit you. But when it does, the wave crashes over your shoulders so violently that it throws you to your feet, tasseled pillow whipped to the other side of the couch.

There are tears searing across your eyes. A twisted grimace of a smile on your face, a laugh breaking roughly from your throat. Some crazed, disbelieving, ugly little laugh.

“You – you checked my…my fuckin’ phone. You – you fucking –”

His head jerks back, offended. “Hey, now, listen to me –”

“I’m not listenin’ to another word! Am I twelve?”

You stalk over to the kitchen. The rattle of your dad’s chair tells you he follows.

“Well – you tell me, hon, ‘cause right now, you’re making a lot of real stupid decisions.”

That same ugly laugh echoes around the house. You grip onto the kitchen island. The room starts to wheel.

“Who the hell are you to tell me what I should or shouldn’t do?” you pant, eyes tight shut. Your thumbs begin to slip, sweat gliding between your skin and the counter.

“I’m your father! I’m lookin’ out for you, damnit! You think I wanna be havin’ this conversation with you right now?”

The granite countertop blurs in and out of focus when you open your eyes. You hook onto it, using it to haul yourself around the island until there’s distance between your wobbly figure and his. And you remember one week ago, when the same counter separated you and Joel, and you think of Joel, and think of his fingers around your wrist, and his fist against Knox’s jaw, and his teeth in your neck.

“Look,” your dad’s voice floats somewhere over the image of Joel’s eyes, “let’s just – let’s calm down. You ‘n me – we’re gonna talk this out. We’re gonna have a calm, mature discussion about all of this. You’re gonna tell me exactly what’s been goin’ on, and then I’m gonna head over to Joel’s – alone – and talk to him.”

But his voice doesn’t sound calm. There’s a tremble to it – a tremor as fragile as glass, as thin as ice. It’s crackling as he speaks. He can hardly keep a hold on it himself.

If he goes over to Joel’s – this you know – there ain’t anything calm or mature that will come of it. Suddenly the images in your head warp, and it’s your fingers around Joel’s wrist, someone else’s fist against his cheek, someone else’s teeth and the venom spat between them.

“Dad,” you pant, “it’s over. He ended it. It’s been done for, like, two weeks now. It was nothing.”

“Oh, nothing, was it?” He steps closer. You retreat. Edge further around the counter, further from him. His head tilts, eyebrows curl. He looks like a vulture, eyeing its prey. “Then what were the two of you up to last night?”

“We – we went for ice cream, that’s all. He wanted to make sure I was alright.”

He’s not convinced. And he shouldn’t be, either. He coughs a laugh. “For three hours? You were eatin’ ice cream for three Goddamn hours?” His cheeks wobble as he shakes his head. Then, in a softer voice, like he’s arming himself with a chisel to prick at the weakest parts of the sculpture, “What’d he do to you, girl?”

The marble cracks and snaps wide open. Anger floods out in hot waves. Any composure you’d managed to scrape together flushes clean out of your body.

“Nothing I didn’t want him to fuckin’ do. Stop treating me like I’m some kid who’s – who’s been tricked, or something. I’m twenty-three, Dad, I’m an adult.”

His silence sends another misdirected shot of panic through you.

“I was in on it just as much as he was,” you weep, fingers searching for a scratch of beard or kiss of flannel.

Your dad scoffs then, hands slapping against his thighs, and turns away. “There ain’t no gettin’ through to you,” he announces to the timid living room.

Still bracing yourself against the island, you take the break in his tirade to catch your breath. The only thought running through your head, losing velocity with each circuit, is Joel walking through that door. His face when he notices you with your flushed cheeks and wide eyes. His hands reaching for yours, through all the lies and hurt. Your dad, stood opposite, tight as an arrow and ready to fucking fly for him. Fists balled, teeth bared.

“He doesn’t even know,” you realize, staring at the glow on the floor cast by the front door. “You haven’t told him you know, have you?”

“’course I ain’t told him. I wanted to talk to you first. Not that it’s gotten us anywhere, huh?”

“I’m gonna text him.”

“Hon, don’t you d–”

“I am not having this conversation on my own. There are two people involved here.”

You pull your phone from your pocket and scrawl some messy message to Joel. Three messy messages. Something like he knows everything, can you come over? I need you. Some needy, dramatic, helpless message.

The typing bubble appears for a fraction of a second. So fleeting that you almost miss it through your tears, before it drops back to nothing. He doesn’t reply.

Doesn’t pick up, either, when you call him. Three times in a row. Three missed calls; three Hey, it’s Joel, sorry I missed yous.

The phone rattles off the counter when you drop it, your head falling into your hands. Your dad wanders back over to his armchair and collapses into it with a sigh, his fingers massaging his temples. The two of you mirrored, the same storm circling between you, only ice in his veins and fire in yours.

Fear keeps your feet planted to the kitchen floor; adrenaline alone keeps you upright. Your fingers push hard into your forehead, an ache sat directly behind that dizzies you. Blood thudding its fists against your eyes, screaming in your ears.

How the fuck did this happen? It feels ridiculous to ask, but it’s all you got. When did the two of you get so lazy? Start forgetting to cover your tracks? Or – maybe worse – stop caring enough to even try?

Of course, saying you were with Anna was a dumb fucking move. Her dad is one of your dad’s buddies. One of Joel’s, too. That was always going to fuck it all up. And you were too caught up, too hellbent on seeing Joel, too fucking horny to stop for five seconds and keep your damn story straight.

There’s nothing to say, nothing that might fix this. There’s no winding your way out of it. The trap has you by the throat. Your jaw aches from trying to free yourself.

Your dad sways side to side in his chair, staring silently at the wall ahead of him. Your face burns with shame, with anger, with embarrassment. Your heart stings from the hurt, from wanting Joel here, from his ignoring your pleas for help. And, most annoying of all – from letting your dad down.

It doesn’t matter what you tell yourself. How you spin it. Sure, you’re twenty-three. You can make your own decisions. That much is fucking clear now. Doesn’t mean they’re always good. Even when they make you laugh until your cheeks hurt, make your stomach flip with excitement, make you scream from pleasure.

Make your heart do things you’ve never felt it do before. Things you never knew that it could do.

You let your dad down. He can barely look at you for it. You know damn well that it was worth every second, and yet, right now, nothing but thick, awkward, unbreathable air between the two of you – it feels like it should never have happened.

You’re bent over the counter, head resting on your folded arms, breathing still staggered – when you hear it. The squeal of brakes outside. An engine cutting. A door slamming.

Two knocks on the door, and Joel pushes it open. You’re already in the hallway, watching his heavy head and loose shirt cross the threshold.

He looks up and your eyes meet. His hair’s a mess, he’s in the same tee from last night. He’s gotten straight out of bed and into his truck, and he’s braced, like he doesn’t know what’s coming. Which direction to expect the first punch from.

Your knees weaken at the sight of him. The safe haven of his arms, the home of his chest. The beating pulse behind it whose language you’ve become fluent in. Even now, when everything’s fallen apart, his being here washes relief over you like cool water dousing an inferno. Your body relaxes, your breathing quietens.

Joel nods towards you. You okay?

You shake your head lightly, and he flicks his fingers. You’re in his arms before your brain tells your limbs to move.

“’s okay,” he breathes, lips lined with your ear. His chest is soft, warm; you take fistfuls of his shirt. He strokes your hair, mumbling, “Told you we’ll be alright, yeah? It’s goin’ to be alright.”

You weep into him, lips dripping with salty tears. They part to reply, when a low growl rips between your bodies. Joel loosens his grip and you step back, turning around to face the ghost of your father at the end of the hall.

“Get the hell away from him.”

He advances, takes a few steps forward. You meet him halfway, gripping onto his shirt, planting yourself firmly between him and Joel.

“Woah, woah,” you say, pushing on his small chest, “let’s all just calm down. Dad.”

He’s smaller, scrawnier, older, and weaker than Joel. He’s never going to lift a fucking hand to him. Not if he wants to keep it intact. He wouldn’t square up to a fly, never mind an actual worthy opponent – but your gut tells you to make damn sure he doesn’t even try.

“Get out of the way, hon.”

“No. No way. And let you –? No.”

He’s not even looking at you. You’re nothing but an obstacle. He’s staring a few feet behind.

“Baby,” Joel says, voice weary and surrendered. “It’s alright, now. C’mon, outta the way.”

“Baby?” your dad seethes. “You just call my daughter baby?”

“Called me it as long as he’s known me, Dad.”

“’s different now,” he spits. “What the f–? I mean, what the fuck, Joel? What were you even thinkin’? Putting your Goddamn hands on my daughter?”

You don’t usually hear your dad curse. All through growing up, even when you left home – you could count on one hand the number of times you’ve heard it. It sends a bolt of fear through you as if you’re five years old again, and he can’t do much worse than say bad words in front of you.

You don’t usually see your dad do any of this stuff. Raise his voice, ball his fists. Lean forward, feet planted on the ground, like daring Joel to make the first move. Joel – his best friend. The guy he was supposed to be able to trust more than anyone in the world.

Angry. Furious. And you think: if there were a time he had a right to feel this way, to act like this and throw threats around as though they’re light as air, if ever there were a moment – this would be it. A betrayal. A secret this big.

Joel takes a step forward. He doesn’t seem scared. More – placating. Letting the tantrum run its course. He holds his hands out. “Let’s just – let’s just talk.”

“Talk,” your dad repeats, spitting the word like it’s rotten in his mouth. “You wanna talk? Let’s talk. What the hell have you been doin’ to her? Hm?”

Joel shakes his head, shoulders lifting. “I ain’t been doin’ nothin’ to her. That’s not what this is.”

“Hell,” your dad scoffs, “not what it is. Why don’t you explain to me exactly what it is, then, Joel? If it ain’t you takin’ advantage of a young girl? Takin’ advantage of my kid?”

Your head whips back to face Joel, hand lifting in a bracing motion. He sees it – sees the way your head shakes, imperceptible to your dad. Please don’t tell him. Not yet.

It’s bad enough that he knows you’ve been messing around. It hurts enough that he knows you’ve been lying for the entire summer. Telling him the full story – the conversation in the truck, the words exchanged over ice cream and the quiet tick of traffic lights across the street – would only hurt more. Would only sharpen his anger. He’d ask more questions; he’d drive his dagger deeper.

Joel pleads with you. His eyes do his bargaining. You don’t relent. Please.

“You know what I keep thinkin’ about,” your dad interrupts, “you know what’s runnin’ through my mind? That damn garden party. Those cupcakes. You puttin’ your thumb on her lip. I should’ve known the second you touched her what was happening. You arrogant, shameless son of a bitch, Joel, you got no idea what you –”

“Dad. Enough.”

Sure, you’re trying to calm him down, palms outstretched and motioning like he’s a wild horse, rearing frantically and threatening to crush you. But it also stings to hear him talking about Joel like that. Talking to him like that.

The same Joel he’d sling an arm around, knocking their beers together when the Rangers won. The same Joel you know he’d spent hours sat out back with, talking into the night and sharing stories and secrets with the stars.

The same Joel who covered your legs with his jacket last night, who held you when you were hurting, who reminded you what it was like to feel your heart again, beating rapidly in your chest.

He’s not talking about the same Joel. Not the Joel you know. Yours.

He’s still rambling. “…’n all this time, you pair have been closer ‘n you were lettin’ on.”

“You don’t understand,” you plead, “you don’t know him like I do.”

Your dad scoffs, twisted smirk on his face. “Oh, I know ‘im. I’ve known him a hell of a lot longer and a hell of a lot better ‘n you have, hon. Known him since he was fifteen, askin’ me ‘n my buddies to buy ‘im a case of beer from the liquor store. His little brother in ‘n outta jail like God only knows what. I know exactly what he’s like.”

“What he’s like?” you huff, exasperated. You spin on your heel, arms coming down on your sides with a slap. “Joel, help me.”

“Don’t you dare look at ‘im! Listen, kiddo, I know him. Know what he’s like at Frank’s, takin’ women home left ‘n right, then forgetting their damn names. Know he sure as hell can’t remember that schoolteacher’s name, can you, Joel? You remember her?”

“Quit it,” you tell him over your shoulder, still facing Joel.

Your dad laughs from behind you. It turns your stomach. “I’ll bet he never told you about that one, did he? That’d turn you off ‘im in a heartbeat, wouldn’t it?”

“Nah, he told me about Jess.”

Your dad’s voice cuts. Joel’s head finally lifts, his eyes ungluing from the floor to look at you.

You shrug back. “I figured it out. Sister’s name is Mia – she’s a year younger ‘n me.”

You swear he almost fucking smiles. Almost. It’s funny, or at least, it would be if you weren’t both in the middle of tearing your entire dynamic apart. Any other time, he’d nudge you, or tousle your hair, and say you were too clever for him, or something about being old again.

When you turn back to face your dad, he looks like he’s run out of words. So, he repeats ones he’s already said.

“I…Well, I know him, honey. And he ain’t someone you oughta be with.”

“How’d you figure that?”

He sighs. “I just told you my reasons.”

“’cause he wanted beer when he was a kid and he’s slept with people before? ‘cause Tommy gets himself into trouble – trouble that Joel then gets him out of?”

“No, I –”

“You don’t know a damn thing about any of this. You won’t listen to me. If you’d hear me out – hear us out, then you’d –”

“Don’t you dare tell me I’d change my damn mind. Don’t – you – dare.” Your dad’s voice is quiet and slow. Dangerous. Laced with something you’ve never heard in it before. It’s not worth finding out what.

Your head shakes, knee jerking with nerves. “I don’t…I don’t know what else to say.”

The fire flickers, loses light for a second. His voice softens. “Honey…This –” he waggles his finger between your body and Joel’s, “this thing y’all have been…It ain’t right. It is not right, what y’all have been doin’. You are far too young for him. He should know better, and the fact that he doesn’t – well.”

Your brows tighten, eyes pinching around painful tears. “I know why you’re mad. I get it. I’m sorry. But I can’t –” You sigh. “You are suffocatin’ me, living here.”

His façade drops instantly. He pushes his fingers into his eyes, groaning. “Hon, you’re not hearin’ me.”

“I hear you loud and clear, I –”

He cuts you off, throwing his arms up into the air with another loud yell. The words melt into one long drone, a mountainous ramble which peaks and falls in pitch; one minute low and angry and the next high and frantic.

You sigh, shoving by him for the living room. Joel reaches for your hand, your fingers brushing against his.

“Baby,” he says.

“Ah!” Your dad blocks his advance, shaky finger held to his chest. “You dare, son.”

You’re swipe the bag from the floor by your dad’s chair, your change of clothes still in a crumpled heap at the bottom. Slinging it over your shoulder, you whip past your father and lock your hand with Joel’s.

“Hey,” Joel says, slowing you down. “Darlin’, where are you –?”

“I wanna leave.”

“Huh?” he asks, brows raised.

“I want to go,” you whisper.

He glances over to your dad, dumbfounded by the stairs. “Where d’you wanna go?”

Your shoulders roll. Anywhere. Just take me away.

He doesn’t hesitate; barely thinks it over. He tightens his grip on your hand and pulls you toward him. Your feet stumble over the carpet.

“Where in the hell –?” Your dad’s snarling picks up again, his final chance. “I don’t think so –”

Joel’s backing up towards the front door, led by the pull of your hand. “Emotions are pretty high,” he announces, “why don’t we have this conversation once everybody’s calmed down?”

“Joel, if you take her, I’ll–”

“I ain’t takin’ her anywhere. She’s an adult.”

Liar. His hand wouldn’t let go of yours if you tried to pry it from his clutches.

“I’m leavin’,” he says, “she’s just coming with me.”

Your dad barks your name, and you freeze. Joel stops, too, allows you the time to turn. Like a deer in the headlights.

“I’m going, Dad,” you shakily tell him.

“I swear to God,” he says, “if y’all walk outta that door…”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I didn’t mean for any of this.”

He shakes his head. “Stay, hon. Let’s talk.”

“You’re not talkin’, though. All you wanna do is argue. I wanna go with Joel.”

“You ain’t goin’ nowhere with no one! ‘specially not him!”

You shrug, give your head a solemn shake. “Stop me.”

Joel hears the exhaustion in your voice, the scratch of your throat. The way the words melt into one another. He tugs on your hand, leading you through the front door. Your dad doesn’t speak again, and you don’t turn back to check on him.

The neighborhood is silent in the early morning. Yards empty, curtains still closed. No one, not even the sun, tucked behind a thin veil of cloud, sees when you pile into the front seat of Joel’s truck.

“Baby,” he says, pulling your seatbelt over your body.

Your eyes fix on the asphalt ahead. “Just drive.”

“Hey. Look at me.”

When you turn to him, he takes your jaw in both hands. “I love you,” he says.

“Still?” you squeak, eyes heavy with sleeplessness and tears.

“More.”

“This is fucking insane, Joel.”

He nods. “Yeah. ‘n you’re worth all of it.”

“Hey,” Sarah calls when the two of you spill in through the front door. She’s on the couch, Switch console in hand. “What’s up?”

“We have a – a lodger, for the next…little while,” Joel grumbles, tossing his keys onto the sideboard. He kicks off his boots and slides them to the wall, straightens up and looks to you.

You follow suit wordlessly, slipping out of your sneakers. Joel places them by his.

“Cool,” Sarah says, standing up. “How come?”

“Just – dad trouble,” you whisper, deflated. She’s wandering around the couch. A defeated sound rings from the console hanging from her thumb.

Her head tilts. “I…I got plenty room for you,” she flashes you a warm grin, “it can be like a big-ass sleepover.”

You return her smile, a slow, grateful breath filling your lungs. Joel’s arm wraps over your shoulder as your mouth opens to answer.

“No, uh…” He clears his throat. “She’ll be in my room. With me.”

Sarah’s expression is blank. She blinks between the two of you, arms limp either side of her hips. Your eyes flit from Joel to her and back again, wide, waiting. Waiting for someone to move, or speak, or yell.

Joel looks indifferent. Unbothered. As if he just told her it’s sunny outside.

She takes a step forward, and by instinct, you draw back. “Sarah…” you mutter, and she swings around the newel post. She dodges your outstretched hand, whether accidental or deliberate – you’re not sure.

“No, it’s…Okay. Yeah. I’ll – I gotta…Yeah.”

You watch as she climbs the stairs backwards, still looking from your pleading face to her dad’s stoic. She shrugs, wiggles the Switch and mumbles something about it needing charged, before she’s spinning and taking the last few steps two at a time.

When her bedroom door closes, you slump back. Joel doesn’t let go of your shoulder, catching you and pulling you into his chest.

“Fuck,” you whisper, lips pressed against his tee. He smells like pine, like mint, like you.

“’s okay,” he says into your hair, hand curving the shape of your skull. “She’ll come around. You know Sarah.”

You turn, ear against his chest, listening for his heartbeat. It doesn’t tell you anything new. You miss the days you used to listen for secret messages in the soft rhythm.

Joel’s chin rests on the crown of your head. “I’m sorry, baby,” he says. “None of this is your fault, you hear? None of it.”

“Now you’re just lyin’ to me. You know that ain’t true.”

A hum rumbles against your cheek like the earth readjusting, rearranging beneath your feet. You lift your head, loosen your grip around his waist.

“You need sleep,” he tells you, thumb swiping gently beneath your heavy eyes.

You don’t protest.

Joel takes your hand, leads you mutely upstairs and into his room. His bed’s not made. The shades aren’t even open. He lifts the sea of sheets, tosses them twice in the air and then pulls the corner back, letting you sit on the edge of the mattress.

He undresses you carefully, like your limbs might crack and burst at the slightest touch. He replaces your hoodie with a fresh tee of his own, one that still smells like the world before its end, and you lay back into bed slowly.

It’s shaped like you – the divot in the mattress. You slot back into it like you never left. The curl of your back and the fold of your knees. You’ve left little pieces of evidence all over the place – all over Joel.

He runs a delicate hand across your head, the repetitive movement lulling you off to sleep. Pushing the boat out.

“You need anythin’?” he asks.

You shake your head, arms wrapping tight underneath your pillow. “I’m good,” you whisper, and the waves pull you under.

His bedside lamp is on when you stir, the left half of the room a glowing honey color. His bare leg slotted between yours, your hands intertwined on his chest. His finger drifts back and forth against your palm, the strokes matching your breathing.

You’re still tired, eyes still rolling beneath heavy lids, but when some commentator screams at the game playing on the TV screen, you snap awake.

Joel curses under his breath, begins tearing the bed apart for the remote – but by the time he turns the volume down, your head is propped against his pillow, knuckles rubbing your eyes.

“Sorry, baby,” he sighs, kissing your forehead as he sits on the edge of the bed.

“’s okay.” You flash him a lazy smile. “What time is it?”

“Almost five thirty.”

“Damn,” you mutter. “Slept all fucking day.”

“You needed it,” he says, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. “You want some dinner? Or – breakfast?”

You nod. “Sounds good.”

He disappears downstairs. The echoing of pots and pans and the hum of the extraction fan follow in his wake. You groan, stretching out like a starfish across the messy bed, forgetting for just a moment why you’re here, and what’s happened, and how different everything is.

It feels the same, even after eight hours sleep. Same guilt, and shame. Same anger and resentment towards your dad. Same punch to your gut anytime you picture his face, the wrinkled frown. The trembling fist holding your bag in midair.

The blow is soothed only by the swelling of warmth across your chest, looking around the room. The safety you feel here, as though you’re cut off from the rest of the world. Your father on pause the second you left the house; Joel’s room and his bed giving you time to catch your breath and recalibrate.

You’re not thinking about when you’ll have to go back home. You’re just not.

You knot your shorts back around your waist, take one huge swig of the water Joel left for you, and open his bedroom door, your head throbbing with each movement.

There’s a figure at the end of the hall, frozen in space like a phantom.

“Morning,” she says. Her hair is tied back, oversized hoodie over her shoulders.

“Hi.”

“You sleep good?”

“Must’ve. Missed half the day.”

Sarah smiles.

“Are you gonna kill me?”

“Hm,” her head tips back and forth, “not today. Don’t have the energy. Watch your back tomorrow, though.”

For the first time in almost twenty-four hours, a genuine laugh pushes its way past your lips. The knot in your stomach loosens, even if only a little.

“You wanna come help with dinner?” she asks, nodding to the stairs.

You smile. “Please.”

The three of you settle on pasta with some tomato sauce from a jar mixed through. You sit opposite Sarah as Joel sets the plates down, sliding into the seat next to yours with a gentle squeeze on your knee under the table.

The three of you talk. About nothing in particular – college, Rita and her cross stitch, some client of Joel’s whose wife got caught having an affair – but it soothes the ache in your heart. It feels like a blanket over your shoulders, a spot by the fire, a voice in your ear promising you that things are still okay. That they can still be this way: light, alive. The earth is still moving, the stars are still pinned up in the sky. Tomorrow will always come, and the day after that.

Sarah asks about LA. You tell her you didn’t know she knew. She grins and says, “Well, now that I do – you better put an application in.”

You hum around the fork between you lips. “Maybe.”

“Come on. The two of us out there together? For six whole months? You gotta do it. Tell me you don’t wanna do it. Are you gonna do it?”

Joel casts her a glower, his stony expression pushing her back in her chair.

Your eyes shift from hers over to his. He runs a slice of garlic bread around the curve of his plate, coating it in sauce, before he notices you staring. His face breaks into a tiny smirk.

“I don’t know,” you decide, turning back to Sarah. “I still gotta think it through.”

She nods earnestly. “Yeah, you should sleep on it. And then, first thing tomorrow, we’re doing it.”

The two of you let her have the final say, falling quiet until some new conversation is shifted onto the table, and then another, and then another. When you’re done eating, Sarah takes your hand and drags you back upstairs.

Sarah Miller’s bedroom has been baby pink for as long as you can remember. Joel painted it one summer while she was at camp, eliciting help from your dad to shift all the furniture. As she grew up, she covered the walls in posters, changed the sheets, changed the curtains, strung fairy lights to distract from what she saw as a kiddish color.

But she never asked to change it. Always wanted the same blushing pink her dad had picked out when she was ten – even if secretly.

Her blinds are tilted, golden light from the slowly lowering sun filtering through onto her carpet, stained with tiny dabs of nail polish. She throws herself down onto the bed, her curls igniting brown in the summer light, and you slowly sink down beside her.

“Nice Zayn poster,” you note, pointing to the straight-browed, dark-haired figure painted in a moody grayscale on her ceiling. “Interesting placement.”

“Was so I could dream about him every night.”

“You didn’t wanna take him to California?”

“Didn’t have to,” Sarah smiles, tapping her temple, “he’s all up here, baby.”

You snort. Your eyes flutter closed; hands clasped on your stomach. She sighs contentedly by your side, listening to the chatter of birds out front.

“I miss this,” she says eventually, her voice smooth and soothing. She elbows you lightly.

“Me too,” you reply. And then, with a deep breath: “Sarah…are you okay?”

When she turns back, the sunlight catches in her eyes. They twinkle, like she’s some doe-eyed Disney character. Someone who might be able to wiggle her fingers and make the last day disappear.

“Am I okay?”

“Yeah. With…everything.”

She shrugs, mumbles an I dunno. “What can I do about it? It’s weird, but…it’s none of my business. I guess…I guess if y’all are happy, then – you know. I’m gone half the time, anyways.”

“It is your business, too, though,” you tell her. “I don’t wanna make you feel weird.”

“I think you got bigger things to worry about right now. Sounds like your dad’s pretty mad.”

You sigh, looking back up to the boyband poster. “Yeah. He’s pretty mad.”

“My dad told me what happened. Well, parts. I can kinda guess the rest. Can’t really blame him, I guess.”

You shrug. “Guess not, but then…I am twenty-three, y’know? I’m not a kid. I can make my own mind up.”

She’s still staring at you, but you don’t return her glance. Something tells you that you already know what it says. Still, she verbalizes it.

“Would you be okay if I slept with your dad?”

That is so not what I thought you were gonna fuckin’ say.

You shoot her a look. “What?”

“’m askin’. Would you be okay with it, if I –”

You lift your hand to shut her up. “That is…so totally different.”

“How is that different?” she scoffs.

“Because…because…my dad’s not hot.”

Sarah gags.

“And – and also you’re not friends with him. It’s just different, alright?”

“You were friends with my dad?”

You’re laughing with her now. You can hear how pathetic your justification sounds. “Kinda, yeah. I was close to ‘im.”

“Yeah, that much is obvious, now, babe.”

You smack her arm and she giggles.

“I think he’ll come around. Your dad.”

“I don’t. Not ever.”

“Why wouldn’t he? His best friend would become his son-in-law, I would become his granddaughter-in-law –” She gasps and props herself up on her elbow, staring you down. “Does this make you, like, my stepmom?”

You spit out a laugh, and Sarah throws her head back against her pillow, clutching her belly.

“You’re my fuckin’ mom, dude!”

“Don’t you fucking dare!” you reply, covering your face with your hands. “Aw, fuck,” you breathe, giggling.

You settle back into the bed, your heads leaning against one another as you stare up at Zayn and his audience of glow-in-the-dark stars. Sarah hums something softly to herself, her ankle rocking, her fingers tapping.

The two of you were raised together. Sisters, when neither of you knew what that word really meant. You figure she’s as close as you could find – someone who reflects all of your favorite parts of yourself and who calls out the uglier ones without hesitation. Someone who comforts you with a punch to the arm, a mocking quip about your hair or the something in your teeth. A safe little secret keeper, for all of your wildest dreams and biggest fears.

“I guess this is all why you were so down in the dumps last night, right? Your dad knew then?”

You shake your head. “Not at that point. He found out after we all left. Realized it all on his own. It’s all just…so fucking stupid…”

She sighs. “My dad – if he…if he makes you happy, then I don’t even know. As long as I don’t have to see it – we’re cool.”

One cinderblock of weight lifts from your chest, allowing a rugged breath to escape. “Wish my dad would take a leaf outta your book,” you mumble.

“He’s just mad,” Sarah says. “He’s just mad, and he’ll eventually calm down.”

“Doesn’t matter even if he does calm down,” you reply. “My dad has more of a…restrictive parenting approach.”

“Can you really parent a twenty-three-year-old?”

“He finds a way to try.”

She scoffs, saying, “I get it. My dad’s more, try it ‘n see. Your dad is, like, try it ‘n see…what your punishment is.”

You both erupt into laughter, and Sarah reaches for the TV remote.

“Exactly,” you tell her, tugging on the hem of Joel’s shirt. “Although, if your dad found out you were with my dad, I don’t think he’d be cool with it, either.”

“Yeah,” she smirks, flicking through Netflix titles, “y’all got what you deserved.”

The sound of Sarah’s bedroom door closing over stirs you. Her room is the color of rust; the stream of amber sunlight on the carpet replaced by that of the streetlights. Beneath the door, the sliver of light is shifted by the sway of a silhouette walking off down the hall.

Sarah’s snoring quietly beside you, still in her jeans. Keeping an eye on her, you roll off the bed and creep towards the door, a slow groan coming from the handle as you twist it. Joel’s at the opposite end of the hall, disappearing into his room as you shut Sarah back into her warm slumber.

“Thought you were sleepin’,” he whispers when you slip into his room. He’s already sat in bed, leant against the headboard. The room a thick darkness, a black cloud of dusk spiraling around you and cutting you off from the rest of the world.

“Heard you come in.” You wander over, pausing at the side of the bed. “Wanna stay with you.”

“C’mere,” he says, holding a hand out. You take it, pulling yourself into his lap. He slips his hands under the hem of your shorts, fingertips brushing the crests of your hipbones. “You okay?” he asks, thumbs swiping gently on the seam of your thigh.

“Never better. You?”

He sighs in response and looks off to the window, the light catching his eye. You tilt your head and bend forward, kissing below his ear. He smells like whiskey. You breathe it in, inhaling like the sharp scent might fold you under a numb blanket of inebriation, too.

Joel takes a fistful of your hair and pulls you from his neck, watching the shift in your expression before he kisses you – steady, bracing. The first time since everything went so wrong.

For a few minutes you pretend nothing has changed – you’re still sneaking around, shushing one another; someone’s in the next room, there are still secrets to be kept. You slip your shorts down your legs, kicking them over the side of the bed; Joel’s sweatpants follow soon after. His hands surrender and you push up on his chest, dragging your core against his stubborn crotch, lips never losing contact. Tongues rolling against one another, noses bumping; a tangle of breath between you until you’ve no idea which is yours and which is his.

It’s all you know how to do, after all. It’s how this started, it’s how it got out of control. The two of you taking out your needs on one another. Right now is no different. You need to feel something other than the dread in the pit of your stomach, the ache in your heart anytime you look at him and know he feels it, too.

You come up for air and suddenly the feeling dissipates; doubt sets back in and fear washes over you like ice water. Your hips cease, Joel’s hands lift from your body. He pushes the hair from your face to find his own expression mirrored in yours.

Everything has changed.

You watch his movements, the light trace of his finger on your bare skin, the pinch of fabric as he adjusts his boxers. The careful movements of his own hips, trying not to incite anything more.

“I love you,” you offer, when he doesn’t say anything. Whispered, like it’s a question, like something to dangle in front of him to make him bite.

At the very least, it unsticks his gaze from the cotton print over your chest and back up to your face – where he softens and says, “Oh, darlin’. I love you, too.”

He gives you a squeeze and pulls you by the shoulders closer, letting you feel his lips on yours again and again, until you’re out of breath. You nuzzle your head under his jaw, the rise and fall of his chest and the steady beat of his heart at your ear.

Joel trails his hands up and down your spine. He breaks the silence first – stammers his way through a question you’re not sure how to answer.

“Was I – was I hurtin’ you? All this time?”

You lift your head, looking blankly at him. “What –?”

“Was I hurting you?”

“Hurting me?”

He nods. “Everythin’ we were doin’. Everything we’ve done. You wanted me to be doing it, right?”

He looks…scared, as though forty years have been shaved from him over the course of one day. Eyes glassy like he might burst into tears; bottom lip almost trembling with uncertainty.

You sit up and cup his face; he breathes a sigh of relief when you look him dead in the eye and say, “I wanted you to be doing all of it.”

“All of it?” he repeats.

“Yes,” you nod, “nothing you ever did ever hurt me.”

He lowers his gaze. “’cept when I left.”

“You came back.”

His thumb curves beneath the slip of fabric on your hips, toying with the elastic. There’s more in his question, you know it. He’s not convinced by a word you say.

“It’s just…all such a fuckin’ mess,” he groans, fingertips massaging his forehead.

You hesitate, unwilling to agree and unable to disagree. It is a fucking mess – that much is true. But if that’s all it is, then why does your heart pause for breath whenever you see him? Why does the mere thought of his presence, the tiniest glimpse of him – why does it all send your stomach somersaulting?

How can something supposed to be so bad, make you feel so fucking good?

“It was wrong of me,” Joel says, “to flirt with you that night I first saw you again. To put you in that position. But I did, and we ended up here. And I’m glad we did, baby, you know I am, but…it’s on me. This thing with you ‘n your dad.”

“You don’t think he should back off a little? Don’t think he’s oversteppin’ a mark, even a tiny bit?”

He shakes his head. “I’d do the damn same, ‘n you know it. I shoulda known better. Shouldn’ta let it happen. You mean more to me than the world, and I – I caused all this hurt for you.”

Sure, it’s real noble of him to take all of the blame, but it wasn’t just him. You had a part in it, too: your batting eyelashes, your hands where they shouldn’t have been. Your jaw tightens when he says it, holding back from telling him you want as much responsibility in this as he’s taking, even if he won’t allow it.

But an argument with Joel, right off the back of one with your father, isn’t really something you need. It wouldn’t help anything. So, you swallow your words and whisper new ones.

“You shouldn’t have flirted with me?”

His eyebrows flick, concern knotting them together. He sits up, scooping you in his arms. “I meant I should’ve never let it get to this point.”

“’n what about the first time you touched me?”

The memory plays between you: the weight of him on your body, the sound of the stereo system firing up downstairs. One hand between your legs and the other pinching your heart.

The light in your eyes starts to bleed through your body into Joel’s, distorting the projected image of that scene in your bedroom. It ignites somewhere low, travelling upwards until his stare locks with yours: an understanding weaving between you both.

You lean back from him, drinking in the sight. “Nothin’ but trouble, right? That’s what you said, that first night. You knew damn well where it might go. ‘n you still wanted it, just as bad.”

“Darlin’, I’m not sayin’ I didn’t, I –”

“No, no, I get it. I get it.”

You push his shoulders to the mattress. Fire in your belly, some kind of twisted energy pumping through your veins, you grind down on him again.

That thing, about this being all you know how to do? About taking your needs out on each other?

Right now, you need distraction. You need something to tire you out, to drain you of energy, to stop your thoughts for five minutes. You need someone to hold you, and love you, and make you feel good. Joel’s the perfect distraction.

He’s still hard. You’re still wet. It’s easy.

You drag your hips lazily over his, cotton riding against lace. He’s growing harder, bigger; he’s pushing up into you. You respond by pushing down, and Joel groans.

“Hey,” he takes hold of your thighs, “baby, we don’t have to –”

“Then, let’s stop.”

He says nothing.

You reach down past the band of his boxers and take him in your hand. He bites back a moan, his head falling into the pillow. You’re stroking him: long, hard strokes, fist tightening around him, fingers dipping between your folds to apply your slick to his length.

“Say the word, Joel. We’ll stop,” you pant, unsure if even you buy the words you’re saying. “You said it: none of this should’ve ever happened. You should’ve never laid a finger on me.”

His arms lift, throbbing biceps curving around his pillow and crumpling it against his skull. He doesn’t tell you to stop, because he doesn’t fucking want you to. He needs this – needs you as much as you need him, needs you more than he needs the air in his lungs.

And you’re right: it is different now. Now, it’s out in the open. The whole world could know, for all the two of you care. And maybe that’s the kick to it, now. No more hiding. No more fleeing from shadow to shadow.

You tug his underwear down and lower yourself, dragging your folds up and down the width of him while sticky precome gathers at his tip, dappling the trail of hair from his navel. And when you can’t do it anymore, when the mere sight of him drenched in your arousal threatens to send you over the edge, you line him up to your entrance and sink down, slow.

He moans into the pillow, fabric muffling your favorite sound in the world. And he doesn’t stop, his chest doesn’t stop rumbling until you reach his hilt, where he gasps.

“Darlin’,” he whimpers, hands coming back down to hold you in place.

You bat them away. “Uh-uh,” you tut, pinning his wrists above his head. “Not a – fuckin’ – finger.”

Joel grits his teeth, eyes locking onto yours, directly above him as you slide up off his cock, hips circling as you do, and then back down. Your free hand curves around his ribcage, the solid flesh of his torso stabilizing you.

“Poor baby,” you coo, pouting your lip. “Can’t even touch me. Can’t put a hand on your girl when you need to most.”

“Fuckin’ – whore,” he grunts, and your hips grind to a halt. You release his wrists.

“That what you think of me?” you ask, sitting upright on his lap. Joel’s still buried deep inside you.

“No,” he’s breathing, lips curling, “no, baby. Keep goin’.”

“I’m not the one goin’ back on my word here.”

He flashes a thick, filthy smile. “I know, I know. Go on. Make me proud.”

You lean forward again and he sighs, the feel of your wet cunt wrapping like satin around him.

“You think he’d trust you, anyway, after everythin’?” you mewl. “Think he thinks I’m in a different room right now? Tucked up in bed, safe ‘n sound? Nah, baby, he knows. He knows what you’re doin’ right now. Keep your hands off me? You can’t keep your cock outta me.”

Joel moans in agreement, hands gripping into the sheets to ground himself, hips bucking up against yours. You place your hands either side of him on the mattress and start to bounce, skin slapping, bed shaking.

“You like that, huh?” you moan, feeling the sharp kiss of his head at your cervix. Nudging, nudging, nudging. Blunt pain, blissful pleasure. “Like me riding it. Takin’ what I – oh, fuck – what I need.”

He lets out a guttural moan, writhing around underneath you. It’s like he’s forgotten where he is, forgotten you guys aren’t alone in the house; drunk on the sight, smell, sound, and feel of you on him, not even trying to stifle his sounds anymore.

You close your eyes and hope Sarah doesn’t wake anytime soon.

You’re keeping the façade up for Joel, but on the inside, you feel the exact same. His words echo in your ears, shouldn’ta let it happen, and how quickly that melted into make me proud. Your head starts to swim, your eyes heavy, your body trembling.

The thatch of hair at the bottom of his cock brushes against your clit, a gasp drawing between your teeth. Pain begins to rip upwards on the inside of your thighs, forcing you forward.

“Joel,” you pant, leaning over him. “Fuck.”

“Gotta let me touch you, baby,” he whispers, hands lifting beneath the fabric of your shirt. His fingers ghost across the curve of your shoulders. “You need it, don’t you?”

You whimper in response and Joel slips past the moment of weakness, taking a strong grip of both shoulders and pulling himself upright on the mattress. The tee slips from your body in one breath, and his hands follow the incline of your neck to your jaw, holding you steady as he fucks up into you.

“You want me to fill you up?” he asks, leaning back with a palm flat on the bed behind to watch himself disappear between your legs.

You’re nodding desperately. “Mhm.”

“Gotta ask nicely, remember? Be a good girl for me?”

“Dick,” you hiss, draping your arms over his shoulders.

He pouts. Sweat gleams on his upper lip. His voice cracks, weakens like stone beginning to crumble. “’s not v-very n-ice, baby.”

“Comeinme,” you beg, your fingers swirling around the dark hair at the bottom of his skull. “Please, come in me.”

“Atta-girl,” he groans, and his hands instantly lock on your hips. You don’t stop him this time, letting him push you down as hard as he can onto his cock, coming as deep inside you as he can.

And then – that familiar feeling of being his. Filled with him, your eyes and your nose and your mouth and your cunt spilling with the sight, smell, taste and feel of him. He coats your walls, throbs deep inside you as he claims every tiny corner of your body.

He growls as his cock twitches, and you watch his expression go from determined, to blissful, to fucking exhausted when he stills and his head rolls forward into your chest. His breath hot and staggered between your breasts; light kisses peppered onto damp skin.

You watch him through a post-sex haze, the air between you thick and blurry, as he presses his lips into your chest. He sucks along the cushion of your breast until he reaches the nipple, lips cupping around it, tongue flicking with all the effort he has left in him.

When he lifts his head again, one final kiss to your sensitive flesh, you balance his chin under your thumbs.

“You come?” he asks, the words propelled by a heavy exhale.

You shake your head slowly. “I’m tired, anyway.”

“Alright,” Joel groans, flipping you over. He pushes your thighs apart, his spend leaking from your slit and running southwards.

“Joel,” you giggle, “c’mon, I’m tired. You don’t have to –”

He’s already pushing himself lower, whipping the dark cotton tee from his shoulders and brushing his naked chest over your stomach. You lower your arms to hook under his.

“Hey. Come here a sec.”

Joel blinks up at you. “What’s up?”

“Just – come here.”

He kneels back up to you, hovering over you with his hands under your shoulders. His limp cock lies against the inside of your thigh as he lowers his weight onto your hips. You tilt your head, mapping his face.

Your knuckle runs across his cheek, the jagged bristle of his beard on your warm skin. Like running your hand under water, unable to tell whether it’s scalding hot or freezing cold – there is no saying whether you’re so used to him now that the feel of him is unaffecting, or entirely all-consuming. There’s no middle ground. Not anymore.

“I know –” You sigh, your voice swollen with a soft cry. There’s no stopping the tears anymore. They just come. “I know you think you should’ve known better. But I am so fucking glad that you didn’t.”

It’s done nothing but pour all day. You woke up this morning to the rain battering against Joel’s window, your body hooked against his by his arm.

Day four. Still no call, no text, no nothing from your dad. You haven’t exactly returned the favor – the closest you dared was having Sarah drive you to your house while he was at work so you could dip into the hallway, grab your car keys, and drive straight back to Joel’s. You pulled up in his driveway alongside each other and she rolled her window down, checking your expression before snorting.

It’s like a damn Mission: Impossible film, she jested.

The pain feels blunter, more distant than it did on Saturday. Like your father has bowed his head, faded some into the dark background of upstage. You realize, a few days in – the movie nights and the meals homecooked by three chefs; the way Joel’s scent starts to become yours, his T-shirts hanging loose over your shoulders and his boxers snug against your hips – that you forget to check on the shadow of your dad. Forget the spot he once stood in, the thunderous cloud cast over his head. The same one that so regularly used to pour rain over you.

Sarah went out with her friends a few hours ago. She called to say she’d miss dinner, so you and Joel ordered Chinese. You’re sat with your legs in his lap picking away at some noodles, scrolling mindlessly on your phone while he catches up on some baseball highlights show.

“Fuckin’ – idiots,” he mumbles, fork angrily picking at rice.

Your eyes don’t lift from the Instagram caption you’re reading. “Fuckin’ idiots,” you flatly agree.

Joel’s head turns. “Alright, Miss Big Rangers Fan. I remember a time you pretended to be into ‘em to get my attention.” He attempts to grab your phone, and you swipe it from his grasp.

“Shut up,” you giggle, grabbing hold of your takeout box. “Joel – be careful!”

He snorts, settling back into the couch, changing the TV channel. You give his thigh a little kick, tugging your blanket up. As the TV switches from one showing to the next, your phone buzzes.

You glance down, chopsticks halfway to your mouth, and freeze.

Dear Candidate…

“Joel.”

“Hm?” he asks, eyes glued to the flickering screen.

“Joel.”

“Yes, darlin’?”

You unstick your stare from the phone, looking up to meet his perplexed expression. “They got back to me.”

He squints for a second before the remote is dropped to the cushion. “And?”

“I don’t know, I just saw the first line.”

“Open it, baby. C’mon. Whatever it is, you gotta know.”

“You know what,” you shrug, “I’m good. I don’t need to know. It’s all good.”

“Hey.” Joel snaps his fingers scooping your gaze from the floral, bohemian name on the header of the email and up to his own. “Open it, or I’m kickin’ you out.”

You mock gasp. “You’d put me out on the streets?”

“Worse. Put you back to your dad’s. Now open the email.”

Your thumb trembles as it hovers over the screen, one tap away from the biggest change in your life since you left for New York. Like it’s five years ago, and you’re sat in front of your laptop, psyching yourself up to open the response to your college application.

“Okay,” you breathe, slamming your thumb down. Joel leans in, staring at the screen from upside down.

It swipes across and your eyes flit down, focusing hard on the sentence beneath the opening line. You blink rapidly, waiting for the wash of tears to clear and dissolve it to Unfortunately, or After careful consideration, or We appreciate your interest.

But it never does.

Invite to interview stares back up at you, waiting for your face to break. Expectant, a little nervous. Jittering inside your shaking fist. Joel breaks first, when he spots it.

He almost throws his food onto the coffee table, taking your container from your hands and bundling you up in his. He pulls you into his body, presses heavy kisses to the crook of your neck as you laugh, your entire body quaking with joy and terror and relief and anxiety.

“What’d I tell you?” he says, kissing you roughly. “I knew it, babygirl. I knew you would – Fuck, I am so fucking proud of you.”

“It’s just –” sniff, “– it’s just an interview, remember. I might not get it, in the end.”

Joel shakes his head. “I don’t care. You’re a damn sight closer to gettin’ it than you were three days ago.”

You sit for probably twenty minutes, laughing and then weeping and then laughing again – until the food is cold, there’s a new episode of South Park rolling on TV, and Joel’s T-shirt is soaked with your tears.

“I gotta call Sarah,” you whisper, finger sifting through his hair. Your head buried in his neck, your knees either side of his hips.

“She’s going to lose her fuckin’ mind,” he mumbles into your shoulder, laughing to himself. “She’ll sit off-camera in the corner of the room, so they can’t see her, ‘n hold up cue cards.”

You giggle, letting it dissipate into something weaker, something unconvinced. In a small voice, you say, “We just got one step closer to being four states apart.”

He looks up at you, curving a hand around your jaw, and pulls your lips against his. It’s slow, tender – his every thought and feeling translated into physical movement, transformed into a spin of butterflies in your chest.

When you pull away from him, smiling dumbly, he clips your cheek. “That scare you?”

You hesitate, afraid to tell him the truth. But it’s Joel. He knows every thought that passes through your head. You nod, eyes filling with a salty sting.

“Why?” he asks.

You glance out to the street. “’cause I love you. I don’t wanna leave you.”

Joel nods. Considers it. Then says, “You know why it doesn’t scare me?”

You lift your eyebrows in response. Why?

“Because I love you. And we are gonna be just fine.”

And you believe him.

#joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #the last of us #tlou #tlou fic #dbf!joel miller #dbf!joel #joel miller smut #pedro pascal #pedro pascal joel miller #cowboy like me

[chaosandmarigolds]

Before we begin. I would like to remind you all that Caleb is a fictional character, he cannot be hurt- but so is Simon Riley so do with that information what you will :)

“Garrick.”

Johnny clears his throat before speaking, the commotion of the station loud through the phone, “Ya n the missus still in th’ country?”

To that Kyle frowned, moving carry on bag to sit down on the chair, “We’re just gettin back from Las Vegas, Becca got-“

“Ollie is gone.”

well. That sent a shock through his system, with a quick straighten of the posture Kyle speaks again, “An’ Simon doesn’t-“

“Some bullshit happenin’ makin it look like he helped his girl with kidnappin em from da dad, dad’s takin em …”a breath, “Si doesn’t know Ollie is gone yet. He’s been in questionin for five hours kno.”

Kyle looks down at his boots for a moment, meanwhile his wife gives him a confused stare, “Jesus- fuck, you need me?”

“I dunnae ye. Probably, ya got a ETA?”

Kyle shrugged and then looks at Rebecca, who had her luggage stolen so they were waiting on the security to do their work. “Si’s kid is missin.”

She stares up at him in disbelief for a moment, “How?”

“Bio-dad bullshit.” Kyle puts the phone to his ear again, “Hows Cap holding up?”

“Pissed off. But we all are.”

“Ya seen LT yet?”

“Nah, got her’ two hours go.”

-

If he were being honest, he wanted to simply take the gun and shoot the detective- it would finally make that man shut his mouth. However, Simon was showing self restraint, yet that task grew harder with each moment. So as he sat in the empty room, he was mainly focusing on keeping his breathing even, and temper in check.

About ten minutes went by before someone came to let him go, and to no one surprise Price was behind the door with the officer.

“I need you to be-“

“Where’s Ollie? Where is she?”

Price tried to keep his expression neutral, “Caleb had temporary rights-“

“The fuck does that mean? Where is MY SON?” Okay, so temper wasn’t in check but he was doing his best.

“He’s going to Las Vegas.”

—

Rebecca sipped her coffee as she sat in the airport lounge, after talking the security and as Kyle gave out the description of the small boy. She was currently going through Caleb’s social media, as someone had gone through a lot of trouble to edit photos where Simon had been in and replace them with himself, somehow editing the timestamps as well. Which was funny, because normally she was the phone taking the family photos.

With a frown she turns her phone over and looks around the bustling airport.

That’s when she spots Caleb. Hoodie pulled up to cover his face and quickly walking through the terminals.

Some part of her knew she needed to tell Kyle, and to not rush after him. And she knew he probably could’ve over powered her/ but it was so easy to just use that book she had grabbed as she went after him to take him down.

He probably could’ve thrown her off but instead he let her pin him down, panicked eyes and heaved breathing. “I swear! I didn’t- it wasn’t my idea! They-I owed the em money! I had to!”

“Where is Oliver?”

“They had me hand him off-off to some lady! I don’t know! Russian, tall, I don’t know!”

Rebecca looks down at him, her heart beginning to race as the security began to come over and to grab them, and she slowly turned as Kyle pulls her away. “I don’t…I don’t think is about Ollie. I don’t think this is about him at all.”

-

Ollie stares at the ground of the small plane, having a cup of water and a little baggie of goldfish in front of him. His eyes red with tears.

“Oh, come now little man, eat up. Get strong.” The woman coax’s, her voice muffled by the accent but her smile sweet, “Your father does not want to see you hurt.”

“I wanna go home.”

“I know. But you cannot go right now, your father- he owes us a debt.”

—-

Tee…tee hee 🤍🤍

(Am I getting carried away? Yes obviously. But I am having too much fun to stop)

#Kyle #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley imagine #simon ghost x reader #simon riley fanfic #simon ghost riley #coco's chaos <3 #simon riley x you #cod x you #cod fluff #simon riley x reader #johnny cod #johnny mctavish x reader #johnny mactavish #dad!soap #dad!simon riley #dad!ghost #kyle gaz x reader #kyle garrick fluff #kyle garrick #cod fanfic #coco’s pre k universe! <3

[joshsbimbo]

positive

part one ♡ part three ♡ part four

pairings: stalker! mike x victim! reader

warnings: stalking, obsession, mike’s a cuck, pregnancy test, framed robbery, stolen underwear n laptop, reader’s a slvt

a/n: heyyyy y’all long time no see

♡ cramps. bloating. cravings. hell. you assumed that your period was close, but weeks have passed and not even a bit brown appeared on your pad. you sat on the bathroom floor, your hands anxiously twirling your hair as your best friend comforted you.

♡ “babe, it’s okay! you used protection, right?”

♡ you shamefully put your face in your hands, “when i had condoms, yeah…”

♡ she stops checking herself out in the mirror to look at you in disbelief, “what about pulling out?”

♡ “plan b exists for a reason!” you whisper-yelled.

♡ “so do condoms, dummy.” at first, her eyebrows were furrowed, but then she stopped when she realized how anxious you were. “i’m still here for you, even when you do dumb things.” she gives you a comforting smile while squeezing your hand.

♡ you smile back, and when you’re about to reply the alarm cuts you off. “you flip it!” you squeak, burying your face in the stuffed animal you brought for emotional support. you held your breath as she flipped the test.

♡ “bunny… i'm sorry." she shows you the test. the blue letters you dreaded. “positive”.

♡ your best friend leaves hours later, leaving you alone as you lay in bed.

you: how much do abortions cost

her: abortions r like 800 but i can split with you

you: that’s still like 400000000!!!

her: 400.

u know i love u tho and would spend more than 800 for u! <3

you: yh but i was the one being stupid

idek who the dad is

her: slut 😭

you: bro stfu

not my fault these men r easy lol

♡ you toss your phone away, pulling out your laptop to watch a movie as you get comfy in bed. wait- where the fuck is your laptop?

♡ it’s been two weeks since mike took advantage of his princess, how could he not? you looked so pretty and you did owe him one and you- whatever. besides using your blacked-out body, he also took a souvenir. he thanked god that you used icloud, looking over your gallery as his hands were down his jeans. he swears, once you’re his, you won’t be a whore for all these braindead men, only his. he still enjoyed seeing your pretty pics of cum on your face, tongue sticking out, and runny mascara though...

♡ another one of his favorites was you in a mini skirt, bent over to show your pretty pink panties. he held those same panties in his hand as he stroked his cock against it, going painfully slow to be able to admire your body fully. he tried so desperately to go slow so his mind wouldn’t get so fuzzy, but he couldn’t help it when he had so many pics of you in lewd positions and angles. pathetically cumming into the lacey fabric, his chest heaving as he tried to breathe, the pleasure was so much that he had to hold his breath.

♡ ding! he squinted his eyes to focus on the message from your best friend, “abortions r like 800 but i can split with you”

♡ he wipes his hand on his jeans to click on the notification, reading your messages. “she’s.. she’s pregnant..” he muttered, his breathing picking up again. “abortion? fuck fuck fuck, no!” he yelled out, running his “clean” hand through his curls in disbelief. he got up from his bed, pacing back and forth, trying to figure out how to stop you.

♡ it was one of mike’s favorite parts of the day, he stood by your favorite store as he pretended to be doing his job. his walkie-talkie occasionally turning on and the person on the other side requesting for a guard or announcing that someone was caught stealing.

♡ never you, though. his perfect princess would never steal, so it really killed him to do this. as you entered the store, you paid no mind to mike. you looked through the rack of clothes, focused on finding something good while mike sneaked in a pair of earrings into your purse. he pretended to look around for anything “suspicious” before leaving the store, smiling to himself that he had the guts to do that. eventhohebrokeintoyourroomliketwoweeksago

♡ retail therapy was obviously needed because of the night before, your shoulders felt less tense after paying for your new tops. you happily left the store but stopped in your tracks when the alarm went off.

♡ a security guard walked up to you, his eyebrows already furrowed as he put his hand out. you shakily handed him the receipt, tears already threatening to spill, the hormones making you 10x more sensitive. he looks over the receipt and your shopping bag, then he points at your purse. “i’m going to have to check your bag, ma’am.”

♡ you willingly gave him your purse, just wanting to get over it. your heart drops when he pulls out a pair of hoops, “i-i swear i didn’t put them there!”

♡ “then who did, bitch?-” he asked, but mike's voice quickly followed after him.

♡ “it's fine, steve. i got this, you go take your lunch break.” mike looks at the man with a “sincere” smile.

♡ steve scoffs and backs up from the two of you, giving him a ‘are you serious?’ look, before leaving to the food court.

♡ you let out a breath that you didn't even know you were holding in. “thank you-” you read his name tag, “mike!” you smile up at him with flushed cheeks and teary eyes.

♡ “no need to thank me, i just really hate the new hires. they’re suck dicks.” his heart skipped a beat when you said his name, he tried so hard not to stutter but the blush on his cheeks said it all.

♡ “no seriously! he looked like he was going to kill me!” you let out a laugh of relief. “how can i repay you, mikey?

♡ mikey. his very own nickname from you. he almost died. “no no! you don’t need to. i promise.” he looks down at you as he gives you the sweetest smile ever. no one else makes him smile like you do

♡ you playfully hit his arm, biting your lip slowly as you giggled, “c’mon, pleeeasseeee?”

♡ are you flirting? his cheeks flushed even more at the thought… after a couple of minutes of chatting, mike's walkie-talkie turns on.

♡ “mike. imma need you to come to zumiez, some dude was trying to steal a beanie and he’s putting up a fight.”

♡ his heart drops and he looks at you shyly, “before i leave.. could i get your number?” of course he already had it, but he wanted to hear the numbers come out of your mouth.

♡ “mhm, call me if you ever need anything. i owe you, mikey….” you kiss his cheek before leaving.

♡ he holds his cheek in awe as you leave, finally, you’re going to have a man that treats you right… not like the other dickheads.

thank u for reading <3

#mike schmidt #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x reader smut #josh hutcherson #josh hutcherson fanfic #josh futturman #josh futturman x reader #josh futterman x reader smut

[mummydommythe3rd]

BLACKMAILED PART 2/3

"Here he is!" My mom sang happily.

I watched on my phone screen as she turned a corner. There you were, in all your pathetic glory, face down and humping away on your teddybear...the closest you'd ever come to sex.

"Wow, I wasn't expecting that!" I lied. The app on this burner phone changed my voice enough to ensure you and her wouldn't recognize it. I, of course had orchestrated all of this as your anonymous domme. It was amazing what a felony could do.

"Yes, the baby-loser loves his tummy time, doesn't he?" She said. A soft moan of humiliation was all you could respond with as you pumped your chastity cage into the padding of your diaper.

"I honestly thought we were the first he'd ever told his desires to! I didn't know that this all went so far back!" Mom exclaimed, keeping the camera on him as he humped.

"Oh my, yes! Even back in middle school he was sucking his thumb in class and telling me he didn't ever want to grow up. I suppose at some point he fetishized it and it took over his whole personality."

"Really?"

"Yes!" I laughed. "He had either bought or stolen some girly diapers that he kept at school, and he wouldn't stop asking me if I could maybe change him some time, which I never did. I'm surprised you are going through with all of this!"

Your mom just laughed. You humped a little harder. You'd been living in a nursery 24/7 for the last month, dreading this call. If your 'internet domme' found any reason at all to doubt your enthusiasm, they'd release your confession, and you'd go straight to prison.

"Oh at first I thought he was joking! But then he started crying and pleading! When we tried to throw out his diapers he started wetting and even messing in his bed!"

"Oh my God!" I said with mock shock. Of course, as your step-sister, I had been there for all of it.

"Yes! It took some time, but eventually I gave in, just a bit. I really owe his acceptance to his step-sister. She seemed to accept it right away! As if she knew he wanted it all along! His dad though...well, he just never goes into the nursery."

I laughed. "She sounds very insightful."

"She is! She's never gotten along with him, but she began spending a lot more time with him. She even talked me into going along with his desires on a trial basis. She didn't stop teasing him though, of course."

"Of course. I mean, how could you not make a little fun of him. Was the 'WIMP' mat his idea?"

"Oh no, that one was mine. It wasn't until a couple weeks into his babying, when I was starting to accept it, that my daughter told me how full and leaky his clitty cage got during a diaper change when she called him a pathetic little pamper pooper. The next time I changed him I called him a pathetic little pansy and his cage bounced up and down like a little puppy!"

"That's hilarious! I'm so glad he's finally living the life he's always wanted!"

"Me too! And if I'm being honest, it's kind of fun to make fun of him. He get's so blushy and flustered. He gets as red as a tomato, and can't even talk!"

"Probably because he's too focused on how nice the words make his little dinky feel!"

We both laughed. I heard a barely audible groan.

Mom turned away from the phone and I heard her voice at a lower volume. "Aww, baby's legs are sore? Only a few minutes more to tummy-time! Then you can get a change if you're poopy!"

When she returned I continued. "You know, I can't help but notice that you've been using male pronouns for him. He doesn't look even a little masculine at all though!"

I knew you could hear me. Your mom always used the speaker-phone setting on calls.

"That surprises me too! He's not much of a man, or a boy...even a baby boy, really. He's even growing his own little pair of breasts! He insisted on HRT, and now sucks down his estrogen and testosterone blockers with his nightly bottle!"

"Well I'm sure he'll figure it all out and ask you for the proper pronouns soon."

I head you muffle a little squeak of fear and shock. The threat had been made. Soon you'd have to ask for a new name and completely erase your old male self.

I continued, dropping my voice into a whisper, as if I were nervous about the question. "Has he- I mean...He once told me that- well, he had a VERY strong desire to-"

"What? After all this, what could be so shameful?" she giggled.

"Well, let's just say he could never stop talking about his desire to...well...please a man...with his mouth."

"Oh!" your mother gasped. "I thought his diapers were the only sexual experience he wanted!"

"Far from it! I'm sorry I have to tell you, but he once accidentally handed me his unlocked phone and I saw that he had dozens of tabs open about cum, eating cum, blow jobs, deep throating...he was quite obsessed. Then it all spilled out. He confessed that he didn't think he could be truly happy without a tummy regularly full of another man's seed."

"Well I don't know how I'd ever go about arranging that!" your mom exclaimed. I could hear you moaning and squeaking into your pacifier. You were scared, angry, and ashamed, but all you could do was suck your paci and hump your stupid bear while the adults talked.

"Yeah, it's a bit unrealistic." I admitted. Maybe your step-daughter knows a way to get him some of his favorite food?"

"Well I can talk with her about it, but I wouldn't hold out hope!"

"Don't worry I'm sure she'll be able to think of something." I said.

A timer beeped, signalling the end of 'tummy time'.

"Well, potty-pants needs a change. Please call again anytime!" She said.

"Will do! Tell him I said hi and I'll be checking in on him for the next ten years!" Ten years. The statute of limitations for embezzlement. Ten years of being our pathetic little chaste cock-sucking pansy.

[vanwritesfan-fiction]

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZT8Na9JoW/

A teenage Sav or Laylah asking Trav these questions. Add in Jason and it’s golden 🙃

If You Were Me

Sav and Laylah ask their dad and uncle questions to see how they would react to certain situations, they're like 15-16 in this concept

Everyone was resting after an amazing Christmas dinner when Savannah, Laylah and their cousins all found Travis and Jason in the living room, watching basketball.

The girls saw a trend on TikTok where you ask your non-strict parent hypothetical questions to see how they would react. Neither you or Travis were very strict, but Travis was definitely more relaxed about certain things, and Jason was usually very lenient in his punishments, so they knew the Kelce brothers would be the perfect subjects for their video.

"Daddy?" Savannah had her iPad in her hands, Savannah carrying her phone behind her. "Yes, baby?" Travis could barely keep his eyes open, he just wanted to nap in front of the TV. "Can you and Uncle Jason do a video with us?"

"What kinda video?" Jason perked up when he saw his daughters were in on it too. "We'll just ask you some questions and you tell us how you would answer them, okay?", Wyatt answered. Both dads agreed, and Laylah set up the camera to record for TikTok.

Savannah: Okay, first question. What would you do if I got a C in one of my classes?

Travis: This is all hypothetical, right? Because if its not...

Savannah: All hypothetical. I have all A's, dad, don't worry.

Travis: Well, I'd obviously be concerned, but your mom and I would try to get you some tutoring help or something.

Jason: Your dad really has no room to talk, he wasn't exactly a star student.

Laylah: Really? You never told us that, Dad!

Travis: What are you doing, man? No, I was more focused on sports in high school. Ok, next question.

Jason: He really wasn't that good at sports either. Ow! I'm just answering the questions honestly.

Elliotte: What if I snuck out to a party, and you found out the next day?

Jason: Eh, I wouldn't be too mad at that. As long as you were safe and didn't drink. We'd have to keep it from your mom, though. She would be pissed.

Savannah: Dad, and you?

Travis: I'd say the same thing. As long as you weren't drinking. Its not like you girls have snuck out before or anything.

Laylah: What would you do if I swore at you in an argument?

Travis: Next question. You know better than that.

Wyatt: Dad, what would you do if I got in a fight?

Jason: Well, first I would ask you if you won the fight, and if you didn't I'd wonder where I went wrong as a parent. The Kelces are known fighters.

Travis: Yep, even in pre-school. I'd never want you to start a fight, but you have my permission to finish it.

Laylah: What happened in Kindergarten.

Jason: Oh, please don't make him tell this story.

Travis: Hush, man. I was playing checkers and the other kid cheated.

Jason: He hit him with a chair.

Savannah: You hit a kid with a chair?!

Travis: I don't like cheaters, never have. Don't ask me what I would do if I found out you were cheating.

Laylah: Trust me, I won't. What would you do if one of us got our car towed and it cost $900 to get it?

Jason: You would get a lot of use out of your two feet, because once I got that car, you would no longer be driving it.

Bennett: Even if it was an accident?

Jason: If it was an accident, I'd probably get you the car and then you'd do something to pay me back, but if its on purpose- you're losing car priviliges.

Travis: I would just pay the amount, and then make sure you were more careful going forward.

Jason: He's only saying that because he's lost a car before.

Travis: For the last time, I didn't lose it, it was stolen!

Jason: But why was it stolen, Travis?

Travis: (mumbles) Because I left the keys in the car.

Savannah: Okay just a couple more. What if I skipped class, and you found out afterward?

Travis: I would be mad, because what else do you have to do? School is your only job.

Jason: What class did you skip?

Travis: Why does that matter?

Jason: If its math, I can't say I'd blame them. Gym on the other hand, why would you skip the easiest class you have?

Travis: You are such a bad influence.

Elliotte: What would you do if I turned my location off while I was out?

Jason: That's not acceptable. I need to know that you're safe at all times.

Travis: Yeah, that one would get you grounded for a long time.

Savannah: so fighting is okay, but you not being able to track my location isn't?

Travis: Yep, next question.

Laylah: Last question, what would you do if I snuck a boy in the house?

Travis: This is the first question where I'd actually be really mad. Like you wouldn't see the light of day until you graduated from high school.

Jason: I have a bat underneath my bed just for moments like this.

Bennette: You wouldn't actually hurt the boy, would you?

Jason: Ha! He'd be leaving the house on a stretcher.

Travis: Are y'all sure these questions are hypothetical. Savannah looks awful guilty.

Taglist:

@sporadicpaperchopshop

@marz22224

@rosesnothornes

@macey234

@amylouwho9

@jackharlowscumslut

@gloriousmessofagirl

@ctn26

@xangelonmyshoulderx

@livinginmyfantasies

@caelipartem

@savaneafricaine

@thatchigirl99

@sweetlittlethings15

@buonalima

@tk87kc

@m-1234

@marchmaiden

@questionable-behaviour

@queenisa17

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@giannalove9202

@vir-tual

@fearisthehandthatpullsourstrings

@bernelflo

@caroline334

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@trust-tequila

@lightsoutstyles

@luvvtrent

@aga21

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@brixo

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@there-goes-thefighter

@kmc1989

@princessmermaid1289

@fantasywritersstuff

@kelcemenow

@kristinamae093

@w1ldthoughts

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@purecinnamonextract

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@fanficfanatic15

#travis kelce #travis kelce fanfiction #travis kelce fanfic #travis kelce imagine #traviskelce #nfl imagine #nfl fanfic #nfl fanfiction

[lowkeyrobin]

hi :) i was wondering if i could get somethin with the cricket crew folks (those who are a-okay with xreaders) and a reader who deals with type 1 diabetes, like the reader is having low blood sugar troubles while hanging out pretty please 🦕 (platonic or romantic doesnt, matter to me)

OF COURSEEE OMG sorry for taking so long to get this out, I did a lot of research into this so hopefully I got everything accurate! my dad has type 2 diabetes so sorry if anything got mixed up with that as well 😭 billzo and aimsey are the two that aren't cool with x reader fanfics so I didn't include them, although I'm pretty sure they're okay just being in the bg? lmk if I need to change anything! I genuinley appreciate it

HANDSOME BROS ; you have type one diabetes

includes ; tommyinnit, ranboo, tubbo, & freddie badlinu

warnings ; swearing, mentions of fainting, mentions of needles/dexcom

masterlist

TOMMYINNIT

instantly shoving bills diet coke down your throat

he just panics at first and kinda asks you what to do

yk like in movies when all the characters are shouting over each other in panic? that's him

bill rushes over since his drink just got stolen

"dude, their dexcom needs changed"

"what the fuck is a dex-com!?"

Tommy's too scared to help you in the beginning, literally forces Bill to help you if you need it

even seeing the damn dexcom app on your phone scares him sometimes

like when you walk too far away and it starts doing that scary ass beeping thing, he jumps out of his skin

you left your phone with him while you went to use the bathroom in a public area and your phone started doing the thing because you were too far away and his face went from 😊 to 😨 in a millisecond

"What if they're dead in there???"

wilbur and tubbo are usually the ones reminding him that you're fine and it beeps when you're out of reach

after time, he gets used to it

although he never lets you forget your phone

he's still scared of the beeping

but he learns a lot on how to help you and shit from both you and bill

if he's got an embarrassing question, he'll go to billzo bc he's so scared of making you uncomfortable LMAO

has a whole notes app list for procedures when you're having issues with your dexcom/blood sugar troubles

makes sure you eat some snacks through the day

🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶 I'm so hopelessly in love

TUBBO

before you guys even meet up irl he has a talk with you on what to do if problems arise

you literally hear him type it all down on his phone through the vc

he's pretty calm even from the beginning, but sometimes the nerves do get to him

always has to ask if he's doing things to help you the right way and stuff

if you need his help putting the dexcom in a new spot, he'll be there to help but he's about to panic in fear he'll hurt you

"tubbo, it's fine. you can't hurt me"

"I'm scared I will!"

after time, he'll get used to helping you since he knows you're scared of doing it yourself/have trouble putting it in some spots

keeps some snacks in his pockets/backpack when you're out and about so your blood sugar doesn't drop while you're recording a video or something

if you get weasy or feel like you're gonna pass out, he's got the whole emt training istg LMAO

if you're feeling unwell on stream he'll literally force you to get your phone, hop on a different call with him and prove that you're getting food and whatnot

he'll literally force you to eat on stream

chat uses this for intros of tubbo + y/n edits

gets some advice from Bill as well to make sure you're not lying about eating or anything

if he can't get through to you, maybe Bill can because you're going through similar shit

if not him, aimsey will get through to you

in aimsey we trust 🤞

RANBOO

the first time it happens it was while you were out with them and aimsey

you only told the both of them "hey I'm diabetic just so u know" and left it at that

so when you started having blood sugar troubles out and about with them, they didn't know what to do

you kinda had to explain yourself and tell them how to help and stuff

ranboo made a little safe plan after that, now worried that you could possibly faint and stuff

he has a whole like 3 page note on his phone (like size 9 font too) of what to do in certain situations and when to call 911 if needed

he runs it by Bill too in case you guys missed anything

like bi-hourly checkups that your sugar is okay and stuff, making sure the dexcom is working etc etc

makes sure to only take you to restaurants and fast food places where you'll actually eat instead of pulling the "I'm not hungry" bullshit

he's just looking out for you

"we can't go there, y/n won't eat and I haven't seen them eat today. if you guys wanna do that, that's cool, we'll probably run by a gas station or a store to get something for them, though"

"ran, it's fine-"

"shut up. youre eating, you toe muncher"

"WHAT???"

if you're recovering from low sugar and being weasy/feeling like you're gonna faint, he just tries everything to make you smile

from dumb jokes to comfort videos, etc

they'll do anything to make sure you're better than you were before

you and bill have a diabetes competition where you're just talking shit and spewing about how you've got it worse than the other and ranboo just records it 💀💀💀

FREDDIE BADLINU

during the pov you're at a family reunion ranboo stream is the first time you have troubles around your friends

you forgot you needed to change the dexcom and almost halfway through you step out

like half an hour later you're still not back and the whole groups confused to Freddie goes to retrieve you

brother finds you in the bathtub in and out of consciousness

tbh you blame yourself for writing it off and not thinking about a plan just in case but lessons learned

he texts the groupchat to inform the others what happened while you stumble back into frame with Freddie's help bc you were not gonna ruin this for the others or chat, no matter how much he told you that you weren't ruining anything

you were acting a little out of it but he got you eating off the charcuterie board which helped a bit

afterwards, he always makes sure that you're eating properly and helps you with communicating if you need help with your dexcom and stuff

like Tommy, the beeping when you're too far away from your phone scares the shit out of him sometimes

sometimes he gets a little anxious and slides your phone under the bathroom door or quickly gives the phone back like "I'm just making sure you're okay! it disconnected, I got a little worried"

God I'm so head over heels for him 💔💔

#lowkeyrobin #mcyt preferences #mcyt x reader #tommyinnit x reader #mcyt oneshot #ranboo x reader #badlinu x reader #tubbo x reader #cricket crew #cricket crew x reader #freddie badlinu x reader #gn reader #gender neutral reader

[fangirltothefullest]

Guys I just got back from the dollar store and this middle aged white guy was trying to steal a few things and I'm like, not my business (as you do), but the cashier caught him and like it would have been fine if he just left? Like at this point dude just GO, you were caught, give up the ghost nobody has threatened the cvops on you right in this moment just go.

But OF COURSE the guy starts yelling loud as he can about how he's just "trying" the lighter first, which the cashier lady tells him that's not how it works. So she (who caught him in the act and is keeping a nice distance) was like "sir you pay for it or you go".

And he KEPT yelling, extremely hostile, and repeating "you can't pay me to stay!" but he KEPT not leaving?? And so she started to firmly be like "I will call the cops sir, please get out" cause he got VERY hostile VERY fast and we're all in line like fuck uh what the hell, this is a dollar store at this point it's not worth it-

My sister pulls out her phone and IMMEDIATELY because she is tall and can see over the shelves, and she starts recording of course. I'm looking back for the kids I saw earlier and their dad has thankfully taken them to the farthest corner of the store away from this guy because he's WAY too hostile.

The other cashier who was checking everyone out (who has since stopped everything to turn and help his coworker and everyone in line is like VERY ok with this) is like "Sir please-" and he's being very quiet and trying to de-escalate the situation, but the guy WILL NOT take the hint and so the first cashier (my hero) told him "SIR I AM CALLING THE COPS".

He does not go?!

He's screaming about getting shot like George Floyd (which, white guy you CANNOT think you will be shot dude you are a WHITE MAN, you're deliberately making a scene because you're pissed they caught you!)

He starts rounding the corner with his stolen items, trying to cut everyone in line to suddenly "pay for what he intended to buy", he's shoving his way through and no one will stop him because he sounds at this point absolutely on the verge of a violent outburst.

He tries to pay, but the cashiers just want him gone so she's INSISTING he leave, and he knocks everything onto the floor out of anger and SHE PEPPER SPRAYS HIM IN THE FACE!

It gets on him and he angrily leaves, it gets on her and she takes it like a fucking CHAMP and it's palpable in the air. She is shaken but trying not to let it get to her and I'm thinking gods I hope you don't have to deal with this often....

The dog, thankfully, that this lady brought into the building (an entirely different story of course) did NOT go bonkers with the spray, but it was a VERY tense evening at the Dollar Store and the lady told me this is NOT the worst she has seen (she had to call the cops earlier that day, as I said, and I did NOT inquire about it because that was enough excitement). FUCKING WILD TIMES AT THE DOLLAR STORE I GUESS.

[fyodorloveclub]

.･*:｡ i lost my cool. .･*:｡

for anon, aka hirotsu enjoyer part of my 1k follower fic event!

↬ pairing: yandere stepbrother!chuuya x fem reader

↬ cw: dark content -- stepcest, semi-public sex, vaginal sex, fingering, creampie, boyfriend!dazai, chuuya is Mad!! 18+, minors dni !!

↬ summary: you bring a new boy home to meet your family and chuuya is not happy about it.

↬ wc: 1.7k

dark content disclaimer: this is entirely fiction with absolutely no reflection of reality! i do not condone this nor any other dc i write, pls just block or unfollow if you don't like it, and do NOT report or leave hate comments please!

Why you ever thought it was a good idea to bring home a boy to meet your family – well, a good idea to meet Chuuya – you’ll never know.

If only you had seen the look on his face when you called him to invite him over to your parents’ house for dinner to meet your new boyfriend, you’d maybe have thought twice. He was a good actor, though – his voice stayed sweet and saccharine as he reassured you that of course I’ll be there, darlin’ while his jaw tensed and eye twitched with the anger of a man who was being stolen from. You were his. You always had been, and always would be.

Your parents knew that you and your stepbrother Chuuya were close. You were the same age (you even had the same birthday), had similar interests growing up, and had the exact same sense of humor – of course you’d be inseparable. But they never knew how close. They never knew about all of the secret kisses and groping in the hallway, the shared baths and showers, and how he had taken your virginity on your 18th birthdays.

Things started to get harder though when you moved to university and Chuuya moved out to go work for the PM (whatever that was), and you saw each other less and less. You still would occasionally go spend the weekend in his incredibly lavish penthouse where you almost never left the bedroom, but other than that, seeing him in person became increasingly rare.

So, when he stepped out of a meeting with the Flags when he heard your special ringtone play from his phone only to be told that he was supposed to meet your new boyfriend the next day, he was rightfully pissed. No, enraged. He’d show up, but only to put you in your place.

“Mom? Dad? Chuuya?” you called as you opened the front door to your parents house and peaked your head in.

Your mother rushed down the hallway to greet you, a bright smile on her face as she gathered you into a hug.

“Welcome home, darling! And who might this be?” she asked, shifting her eyes to the man that stood behind you.

“Mom, this is my boyfriend, Dazai!”

“Hello!” Dazai exclaimed in his ever so charming, boyish voice as he reached out a bandaged hand to shake hers. She giggled as she accepted the handshake.

“Well, dinner’s just about ready, would you like to join your father and Chuuya at the table?”

You nod before taking Dazai’s hand and leading him to the kitchen table. Your dad got up to hug the both of you, while Chuuya just sat in his chair, arms crossed and eyes narrowed.

“Who the fuck is this guy?” Chuuya barked.

“Chuuya,” your mother scolded. Dazai just chuckled.

“Chuuya, I’ve heard so much about you!” Dazai chirped, reaching out to offer him a handshake. Chuuya didn’t budge. You didn’t notice the taunting tone in Dazai’s voice, but Chuuya certainly did.

“What’s wrong with your eye?” Chuuya continued to instigate, motioning towards the bandages that wrapped around Dazai’s head. “Do somethin’ stupid?”

“Chuuya, come on,” you pleaded, pouting at him. He meant so much to you, you really wanted his approval. He only rolled his eyes.

Dinner didn’t show much improvement, either. Your parents immediately loved Dazai, his naturally charming personality winning them over as he chattered away about how the two of you met, everything you were doing at uni, and all the perfect dates you had been on.

Chuuya just picked at his food with a sour look on his face as Dazai asked him all about what it was like growing up with you, only answering in short, snippy sentences. He was pissed.

“I’ll be right back, gonna run to the bathroom,” Chuuya grunted at one point, cutting Dazai off in the middle of a sentence.

As soon as you heard the door shut behind him, your phone buzzed.

‘Come to the bathroom, now.’ The text read. You just furrowed your eyebrows.

‘Why?’

‘Just do what I say.’ You had a slight feeling of what was on Chuuya’s mind.

Purposely spilling a bit of wine on your skirt, you stood up from the table and ran off, under the excuse that you were going to change clothes.

As you opened the door to the bathroom slowly, Chuuya grabbed you by the wrist and yanked you inside, locking the door.

“What the fuck, Chuu-”

Before you could even finish your sentence, your stepbrother was pushing you against the wall and crushing his lips against yours.

“Think you can jus’ run away from my like that? Find yourself some new fuckhead, replace me like that?” he growled against your lips, his grip tightening around your wrist.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“That new dumbass, Dazai,” he mocked. “Break up with him already. You’re mine.”

You were unable to respond, gasping as he was kissing you once again. You had forgotten how good it felt to have Chuuya’s lips on yours, how much it really felt like home. You couldn’t help but melt into the kiss, as vicious as it was.

You were taken by surprise when all of a sudden Chuuya was folding you over the bathroom counter and lifting your skirt up, revealing the skimpy, lacy panties you were wearing. Chuuya growled.

“Wearing these for your perfect little boyfriend, huh? Wanted to show off your pretty pussy for him like this? Too bad I’m gonna ruin it for him.”

“Chuuya, no, that’s not w-”

You heard a dramatic rip as Chuuya tore off your panties and tossed them aside, leaving you completely bare in front of him. You squeezed your eyes shut as he crudely shoved his fingers through your folds, prodding at your hole. He used his other hand to palm himself through his jeans, a bulge slowly forming.

“Can’t help but get wet for your brother, huh? Even like this? with your boyfriend just a few rooms over? Slut.”

All you could do was whine in response. You hated that he was right. That the second his lips were on yours again you couldn’t help but get turned on, suddenly reminded of all the nights he had taken you over and over again, until you could barely walk the next day.

Your head fell hard against the counter as he pushed two fingers inside your hole without warning, pulling involuntary whines from you.

“Shit, gotta make this fast,” Chuuya grumbled to himself, unzipping his pants.

And before you could even reflect on his words, his fingers were suddenly replaced with his cock, shoving every inch into you all at once. His hand flew to your mouth to muffle the scream he knew was coming as you struggled hard to accommodate for him inside you.

“Shh, darling, gotta keep quiet, right? Don’t want your boyfriend hearing your brother fuck you good.”

Not willing to wait for any sort of response, Chuuya pulled nearly all the way out before thrusting into you again, his hand clamping even tighter over your mouth. You clenched hard around his cock, overwhelmed by the searing pain of taking his large cock with almost no prep, but also the startling pleasure of his familiar cock rubbing against your walls.

You whimpered and whined as he built up a quick rhythm, bruises blossoming on your hips as he rammed you into the edge of the bathroom counter over and over. His hands roamed up your sides before snaking under your stomach to pinch at your nipples, making you squeal.

“Did you miss having your brother like this?” he goaded.

“Mmhmm, mmhmm,” you whined, nodding. “Fuck, god, I missed this.”

It was impossible to deny the guilt that washed over you as you cheated on your boyfriend with your stepbrother, but equally impossible to deny how good it felt to fall back into something so familiar and easy. Something you didn’t realize you missed as much as you did.

“Feels so-so fucking good, Chuu.”

“I know it does, baby, I know it does,” he cooed.

Chuuya’s once livid demeanor had slowly melted into a sweet, caring one as having you again reminded him how much he truly loved you. Now he gently pet your hair and hugged you close as he fucked you. His goal was still reminding you of who you truly belonged to, but he wanted to make you feel good too.

It was working, too – electricity swirled through your veins as he rocked his hips into you, knowing just how to angle his thrusts to hit your sweet spot over and over again.

“Now I gotta make sure everyone knows your mine, baby.”

Suddenly you felt his lips on the side of your neck, right underneath your jaw, sucking the skin into his mouth.

“N-no Chuuya, everyone will see,” you whimpered.

“That’s the point, darlin’,” he whispered.

You yelped as he sucked hard, thrusts never stopping as his teeth sunk into the sensitive skin.

“You’re mine. You understand that?” he demanded.

“Yes, yes Chuuya, I get it. I’m yours, yours only.” Your voice was broken and pitiful, and the words went straight to his cock.

“Shit baby, I’m gonna cum soon,” he groaned. “Gonna fuck all my cum right into your tummy.”

“Pleasepleaseplease.”

His hips stuttered then met flush with your ass as he came hard, shooting thick, hot ropes of cum into your welcoming cunt. He fell against your back, both breathless as you came down from your highs.

“Don’t betray me like that again, baby, okay?” he demanded, lips right against the shell of your ear.

“Okay, Chuuya, I won’t I swear.”

You both laid there for a moment, Chuuya hugging you close to his chest as he kept his softening cock plugged inside you. Despite the awkward position you nuzzled in closer to his touch, comforted by the familiar feeling of his body wrapped around yours.

Both of you were suddenly snapped out of your haze when you heard a loud knock against the bathroom door, and a familiar huff.

“Umm,” Dazai called from the other side of the door. “You guys done yet in there?”

tags!! @ashthemadwriter @f0r3v3rm0r3 @bbiemilk @daushu @80-helena-08 @yolo-froylo @vivlette @myheartneverbe @kolyasupremanxy @k4thars1s @angel-152437 @creamygojo @chayathecookie @kittybit3s @rizzkolnikov @hnnnnnnnmscorner @diagonal-queen

#chuuya x reader #chuuya smut #chuuya x y/n #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs smut

[rageprufrock]

Sneak Peak: MLC Fanfic

I have so many chores to do so instead I am on tumblr posting this little snippet instead because adulthood is a SCAM.

Anyway, please have some in-progress modern AU where Jiao Liqiao hits Di Feisheng with a car.

The whole thing starts when Jiao Liqiao hits Di Feisheng with an orange Hummer outside of the Alliance Security headquarters while he's on the phone with Li Lianhua.

***

Six hours later, Li Lianhua is sitting around in Di Feisheng's hospital room dressed like someone's dad's dirty uncle best friend: beat up pajama pants, a shirt he'd grabbed at random hearing the shriek of tires through the phone line, and a pair of Fang Duobing's fucking sky blue Adidas slides he'd stolen as he'd bolted out the door.

"It's not that I want to criticize you, lao-Di," Li Lianhua says, critically, "but I told you to run that woman out of town as soon as humanly possible at least five times."

Di Feisheng, who's been provided pain medication and is angry about it, busies himself with glaring at the ceiling. 

"Now look at you," Li Lianhua goes on, like a bastard, "you've got a hairline fracture in your foot, you've got a broken leg, three cracked ribs, a low grade concussion, and also you're the top four trending tags on Weibo." 

That these are factual statements does not make Li Lianhua's continued, unwanted presence in Di Feisheng's hospital room any less insufferable. 

"Alliance Security CEO accident," Li Lianhua reads off his phone. "Alliance CEO car crash. Alliance CEO crazy girlfriend. Alliance CEO handsome." 

Di Feisheng's head lolls around so he can center a wild-eyed glare at Li Lianhua.

"Why are you here?" he asks through gritted teeth.

Li Lianhua squints at him. "Can you be considered human?" he demands. "There I was, enjoying my Saturday morning like a normal person—"

"You were calling me to complain that our CDN felt 'kind of slow,' like an asshole," Di Feisheng corrects.

"—and then I hear you yelling and the sounds of vehicular violence," Li Lianhua goes on. "Any person with a heart would be concerned."

"Fang Duobing made you come," Di Feisheng says.

"Fang Duobing made me come," Li Lianhua agrees.

"Well I'm not dead, so you can leave now," Di Feisheng mutters.

"'As someone who has also wanted to hit their boss with a car, but never truly had the courage, I respectfully acknowledge Jiao Liqiao as my master and will endeavor to serve her as a faithful student in all things,'" Li Lianhua reads, going back to scrolling through Weibo. "'I never want to know the truth or any details about why she did it. Just that she hit this beautiful mean-faced millionaire with a car is enough. I would die for her.'"  

Di Feisheng goes back to staring at the ceiling and begins to systematically reflect on the wrongs that have led to specific terrible moment. This begins with lingering resentment over college scheduling that had put him in a 9:30 programming basics class with Li Xiangyi and concludes with admitting that perhaps Fang Duobing had been right when he'd said, two years ago, "A'Fei, you can't just tell a woman it's fine if she's in love with you and that you guys can keep working together but that it's none of your business." But at that point, Fang Duobing was still the infant Li Xiangyi was fucking as some kind of weird post mental breakdown enrichment activity, and seemed like a poor source of professional counseling. In the years since, Di Feisheng can admit that while Fang Duobing continues to be an infant Li Xiangyi is fucking as a weird post mental breakdown enrichment activity, he has a sharp and nuanced emotional intelligence—as long as it has nothing to do with his profoundly repulsive attachment to Li Xiangyi. 

"Miss Jiao is going to get some truly staggering letters in jail," Li Lianhua observes with audible admiration in his voice. For not the first and likely not the last time, Di Feisheng swears never to answer another phone call or text message from this bastard again.  

"If you like her so much, you should hire her once she's served her time," he mutters through gritted teeth. The sharp edge of pain is starting to break through the drugs, but he feels clearer, sharper, less like he's trying to hear shouting through the rush of a flowing river. "Is there a reason you're still hanging around here?" 

Li Lianhua slants him a look, beaming with charity. "Now don't get shy, A'Fei—"

"Stop calling me A'Fei," Di Feisheng snaps.

"—I came in a DiDi, so Xiaobao is coming to pick me up," Li Lianhua finishes. "You'll be back to your peace and blessed quiet soon." 

Which is of course the precise moment that little treasure of Li Lianhua's pokes his abominably sunny little face into the doorway of the sickroom and declares, all smiles:

"Okay! I just finished with the nursing jiejies! They’re wrapping up your discharge paperwork and we should be able to take you home with us this afternoon.” 

“What,” Di Feisheng and Li Lianhua say.

#mysterious lotus casebook #fanfic #wip

[thoseboysinblue]

Loyalty

Christian Pulisic x reader

What happens when an English girl falls in love with America’s star soccer player and her loyalties are tested when England plays the US at the World Cup?

Word Count: 3200

Requested: Yes

Warnings: Fluff, tattoos, light swearing, mentions of smut

You were sat on the couch with Christian, legs draped across his lap as you anxiously awaited the group draw for the World Cup.

You had a feeling, you just knew it was inevitable that the US would end up in the group with your beloved Three Lions.

You chewed your lip nervously waiting, eyes flicking between the TV screen and the American who had stolen your heart. And then it happened. The US would be playing England in November.

Christian's eyes met yours as his phone lit up

"MM"

"Tell y/n I'll be sure to have her some Mount gear ready for November" was the first thing out of his mouth.

Christian let out a hearty laugh as he tilted the camera towards you so that Mason could see you leaned back against the couch cushions in his USA hoodie.

"I've got seven months to sway her allegiance, and it looks like I've got a head start" he quipped.

Mason chuckled "she may be wearing your hoodie, but the Three Lions are in her blood, I've got years and years worth of a head start on you mate."

"Guess we'll have to wait til November to see" Christian answered him, maybe a little less confidently than before.

"Can't wait man, should be a good one" Mason replied as they shared a few more jabs before finally ending the call.

Christian pulled you into his lap so that you were now straddling him. You start humming "It's Coming Home" a smile breaking on your lips as you look into his eyes and thread your fingers through his hair.

He throws his head back on the couch when he recognizes the song. "Are we going to have to call it quits until December?" he asks playfully.

You shake your head and press your lips to his. The kiss is slow and passionate. He groans and chases your lips as you pull away from him finally giving up and resting his head back against the back of the couch as you scratch lightly at the back of his neck.

"I think we need to go get you a tattoo" he says, a mischievous grin on his face. "I was thinking an eagle, maybe here," as he grabs a handful of your ass.

"My dad will dislike you even more if you talk his little girl into getting an eagle tattooed on her ass," you say with a giggle.

"I mean it's not like he would ever see it though" he says nonchalantly before snapping his head up "wait, your dad doesn't like me?" his eyes widened with concern.

"I think" you start before placing a light kiss to his lips, "what he dislikes most, is that he doesn't dislike you at all" you whisper into his ear, dropping a kiss to his jaw. "It kills him that he can't even dislike you for being a soccer playing American" you smile at him "because he knows how happy you make me" kissing him again lightly. "But I wouldn't waste my money on getting him one of your shirts for November" you say with a chuckle.

"What about you? Should I get you one of my shirts for November?" he asks, tilting his head to the side and cocking one eyebrow.

"I mean Mason has already offered" you grin at him, "Or I'm sure I could ask Ben, or Reece, or Declan, or I think I have Jack's number too."

You squeal as he quickly changes positions pinning you down to the couch while he tickles up your sides. "You wouldn't dare" he laughs at your squirming under him.

"There's only one name that's going to be on your back in November and it's mine" he says, his eyes suddenly darker.

"You sure about that?" you smirk.

"Mm-hmm" he hums as he lowers himself down your body, raising your shirt and kissing along your stomach. "And I've got seven months to prove it to you" he says with a wicked grin.

*****

The journey for qualification hadn't been easy for the Americans, but you watched with pride as they refused to give up. Christian was determined to make sure they qualified, he didn't want to relive the pain of 2018 when they fell just short of qualification.

You had supported him through injuries that kept him out of some camps, setbacks and questions about his form and fitness. You knew he wouldn't give up until the job was done, and that grit and determination made you fall in love with him more and more.

It was no lie that you had enjoyed getting to know the players, their girlfriends, and family members during the qualification stage. You had come to appreciate how supportive and tight knit they all were and they had all welcomed you with open arms into the group, making you feel more at home than you could have imagined.

*****

It was now October, the excitement in the months leading up to the World Cup nearly at a fever pitch. Christian seemed to have a new promotion coming out every week as the headliner for the US team.

Even though, you'd shown him unwavering support in the lead up, you couldn't help but feel that he still questioned who you'd support when he faced off against England in a few short weeks.

You had no question about where your loyalties lay, but you couldn't help enjoying watching him squirm just a little.

In early November, you had begun to gather some of your things to pack. It was a habit of yours to start packing weeks early, editing what would finally end up in your suitcase until just before you leave.

You had all of the States gear Christian had gotten for you, from jerseys to hoodies to t-shirts all stacked neatly alongside a Mount jersey Mason had given you as a joke.

"I think you meant to put this one in the donate pile" Christian drawls holding up the #19 jersey.

"Really?" you smile back at him sweetly "I actually meant for it to be on top so that I wouldn't forget it. I should probably find some more of my Three Lions stuff to throw in there before I'm branded as a traitor" you breathe out as he drops the jersey and wraps his arms around your waist.

"Good luck finding it" he grins "I've hidden it, might have burned it actually."

"You're impossible" you giggle at him as he nuzzles into your neck.

"Impossibly good looking" he laughs as he kisses your neck.

"Mmm" you hum as his lips find yours. The kiss quickly deepens as his tongue presses into your mouth pulling a quiet moan from you as his hands roam under your shirt along your bare skin.

You are interrupted when you hear the doorbell. "That will be Damian" he groans throwing his head back.

"New tattoo?" you question as he nods at you, a slight smile playing on his lips. He places a kiss to the tip of your nose. "We'll continue this later, yeah" he questions as you nod back in response, a mischievous glint in your eyes.

You both head down stairs to greet Damian, making small talk as he sets up his equipment in Christian's living room.

Christian had mentioned getting a new tattoo, but he hadn't really told you what he was getting yet. You always liked his choices when it came to his tattoos, they always held meanings that were special to him.

You went into the kitchen to grab each of you a water and a few snacks while the two of them talked quietly about the design they had planned. Christian approving what Damian had drawn out, removing his shirt and laying down on the table so that they could decide on the placement.

As you came back into the room, Christian sat up and moved to the mirror wanting to make sure everything was just as he wanted before they got started. Your eyes trailed over him catching a glimpse of what he was planning.

Your eyes darted between Christian and Damian, both of them giving you a nod and a knowing smile as tears welled up in your eyes.

This tattoo was for you, a single perfect English rose, placed along his ribs next to his heart. It wasn't hidden amongst his sleeve which would've been so easy for him to do, it was in a highly visible place where everyone could see it. This was an outright declaration of his love for you, the English girl that had captivated him all those months ago.

You moved to him and wrapped your arms around his waist. Placing a kiss to his shoulder. "It's beautiful, Christian" you smile at the reflection of the two of you in the mirror.

"Figured I could show off my love of the English when I rip my shirt off after scoring a goal against them" he smirks.

"You had to ruin it didn't you" you quip back at him as he turns to face you. "Really though, thank you" you say as you place a loving kiss to his lips.

The three of you chat while Damian works on Christian talking about the upcoming tournament and how Christian is feeling about everything.

After he finishes, Christian goes over to inspect the artwork once more in the mirror, satisfied with the outcome and taking a couple of pictures. Damian snaps a couple as well before turning to you.

"Your turn?" Damian smiles at you as you nod, chewing on your lip in anticipation.

"Wait, you’re getting one?" Christian looks at you with anticipation.

"Two actually, I couldn't decide" you smile back at him shrugging your shoulders.

"Gonna get that Eagle on your ass cheek" he smirks.

"Not on your life, Pulisic."

"Captain America shield?"

"You don't even like that nickname, Christian" you laugh back at him.

"You're right. I'd probably have to break up with you if your taste in tattoos was that bad" he quips as he comes to look at the designs you'd talked with Damian about several weeks ago.

"Are those?" his eyes narrow bit.

"Mountain Laurels, state flower of Pennsylvania" you tilt your head to look up at him as he smiles back at you.

"And this one?" he asks.

"Who knew your home state has a firefly as their state insect" you answer him "do I need to explain the stars, too" you graze your hand along his jaw as he rests his chin on your shoulder.

"No, I think I can figure that one out" he chuckles as he kisses your cheek lightly.

"Where are you getting them?" He asks quietly.

"Was planning to do the flowers pretty close to the same spot you just got yours and the firefly on the inside of my wrist. A little more subtle than an eagle on my arse, don't you think?" you grin at him.

"Subtle. And perfect. Just like you." He smiles at you.

You shake your head at his cheesiness and lay down on the table, ready to get started.

Christian and Damian fuss over the placement of the flowers before they finally decide and you nod with approval. You grab Christian's hand as he sits down beside you, "I want you to do it" you flit your eyes to Damian, "he can do it can't he?" you ask.

"Have you before?" Damian seeks Christian's approval.

"Yeah, a couple of times, just the outline though" he answers him.

Christian moves around to the other side of the table. Taking a seat on Damian’s rolling stool and getting together everything he needs. Smiling at you with a look of excitement mixed with nerves.

“You ready, baby? This is going to hurt like hell, I’m sorry.” he says as he places a kiss on your forehead. 

You nod, biting your lip in anticipation. “Just get started, please, before I back out”.

Christian works on the outline of the flowers you had picked, checking in on you several times asking if you were ok and if you needed a break. 

Once he had finished the outline, he moved around to the other side of the table to hold your hands as Damian got started on the shading. 

He brushes your hair out of your face and kisses you lightly. “it looks so good, baby’ he smiles at you. “Its going to be beautiful, you picked well.” 

You nod at him, wincing a few times as Damian hits a few very sensitive areas. “Almost done, ok” he whispers to you with a smile as you just squeeze his hands in acknowledgement before he pulls his phone out and snaps a couple of pictures of you. 

After Damian finishes the first tattoo, you take a short break. Grabbing something to eat before getting ready to start the second one. 

“I can’t believe you are getting two today” Christian smiles at you. 

“Well, you know me, Miss indecisive, I always seem to be torn between two options don’t I?” you chuckle at him.

The second tattoo on your wrist is much simpler and takes far less time than the first and as Damian finishes up Christian looks at you like he might burst with pride. 

Once he is finished, Damian takes a couple of pictures of the two of you to post along with the ones he took of Christian starting your first tattoo. 

He tags the two of you on Instagram: 

When a Pennsylvania boy falls in love with an English girl, they surprise each other with almost matching tattoo plans

The next few weeks leading up to Christian leaving were busy to say the least. He had a few more promotional shoots to finish, matches, and training. You barely had time to soak in these last few days as it all seemed like a whirlwind. 

The next thing you knew, Christian was leaving for Doha, you planning to follow him several days later. 

Once you were in Doha, you saw him briefly a few times and were able to have dinner with him the night after the Wales match. The anticipation of the upcoming match with England obviously playing heavily on both of your minds. 

On matchday, you and Christian had spoken several times. You had never seen him as focused and dialed in as he had been since arriving in Doha. As the time for him to leave the hotel to head to the stadium with the team approached, you sent him one final text.

Y/N: Good luck tonight baby. I’ll be cheering for you 💙

Christian: Which jersey are you wearing 👀

Y/N: Wouldn’t you like to know 🧐

Christian: I hope I already know the answer 😑

Y/N: I’ll see you afterwards. Love you 😘

Christian: Love you too, baby. 💙

As you arrived at the stadium, you took a few minutes to wander over to the England team’s box speaking to several of the friends and family members that you knew. You wished them all well and told them you hoped it was a good match for everyone.

You noticed when Christian came out on the pitch, scanning the US box quickly to look for you but obviously not finding you there. They wished you luck as well as you went to find your seat in the US team box.

Christian didn’t see you when he went back into the tunnel prior to lining up for walk outs and national anthems. When he re-emerged, taking his place in the line and awaiting the national anthem, his eyes finally met yours. You saw a flicker of a smile dance across his lips as he noticed his jersey on you. 

The match was intense, both teams playing relentlessly, Christian and Mason both nearly scoring. You stayed on edge the entire match and were so proud of the US team for going toe to toe with a team that nearly everyone thought would beat them easily. When the final whistle blew and ended in a draw, you breathed a sigh of relief thankful it was over.

You watched as Christian spoke with teammates and friends of his from the England squad and as he and Mason embraced and shared a few words before they both turned to walk towards you. 

“You have that Mount jersey on underneath that ugly blue one, y/n?” Mason shouted from the pitch. 

“What I have on under this jersey is only for him to see” you answered pointing at Christian.

Mason cocking an eyebrow at you “fair play, I suppose” he smiles giving Christian a fist bump before going to talk to his own family. 

Christian climbs over the barrier and makes his way to over to you, kissing you lightly and pulling you into a hug.

“Cross bar challenge?” you grin at him as he pulls away. 

“Funny” he quips, giving his parents a hug as they had wandered down to where you were standing. Christian speaks with them and a few other family members briefly, keeping his fingers interlaced with yours the entire time. 

After they left, he turned his attention back to you. Running his fingers along the hem of the shirt you were wearing. “Glad you made the right choice, I’d have hated to send you packing,” he smirks. 

“Mason had already said I could stay with his family if I needed to when you broke up with me” you wink at him. 

“I’m starting to wonder if I should be worried about the two of you” he chuckles nervously as he pulls your wrist up to kiss it, something he had gotten into the habit of doing since you had gotten your tattoo.

You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling his face close to yours. “You have absolutely nothing to worry about” you say just barely loud enough for him to hear. “You are my home now, Christian. There was never a doubt in my mind who I would be supporting tonight” you say before kissing him gently. 

“I can’t believe you ever doubted me” you pout at him pulling away slightly.

“I didn’t really, I knew you’d pick me” he winks.

“A bit cocky aren’t we” you laugh.

“Mmm-hmm” he mumbles against your neck as he buries his face there wrapping his arms around your waist. 

“So you have something underneath here you want me to see?” he says, pulling at the neck of your shirt like he’s trying to catch a peek. 

“Maybe” you answer with a grin. 

“So am I sneaking to your room or are you sneaking to mine?” he asks.

“Definitely mine, it’s farther away from the others than yours is” you whisper into his ear as you slip your room key into his hand. 

“I like the way you think” he says pulling back from you slightly and giving you a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll see you shortly then” he says before hopping back over the barrier and heading down the tunnel wearing the biggest smile you could imagine.   

#christian pulisic #christian pulisic imagine #christian pulisic x reader

[zepskies]

Never Say Goodbye - Bonus Track #3

Pairing: Dean x Female Reader 

Summary: The first time you and Dean sensed each other’s thoughts and feelings, you were just kids. It would take years to realize that you both were bonded for life, and even longer to finally meet. [Soulmate AU] (18+)

AN: Aaand Part 3! I’ve so enjoyed this series. 

Word Count: 2,500 Tags/Warnings: Angst, hurt/comfort, cavity-inducing fluff

Bonus Track #3: To Be Loved

Sam and Eileen stayed with Bobby while Dean brought you home. 

Jack had been blowing up his phone all day, and Dean knew he’d have to have to fill in your dad eventually. But right now, all he could think about was taking care of you.

You were quiet the entire car ride home. Your thoughts were a mess, and Dean could only glean so much. But he accompanied you into the bathroom while you showered, just to make sure you were all right. 

After you were dressed in soft pajamas, you finally spoke. 

“We should call my dad, let him know what…what happened,” you said. You tried to find your cell phone. You looked all over the apartment, but frowned when you realized you had no idea where your purse was. 

Dean approached and calmed your shaking hands, grounding you with his firm, but gentle touch. 

“Hey, take a breath, okay?” He guided you to sit down on the couch in the living room. 

“I remember…being at work,” you said with difficulty. “I touched that damn book.”

Dean nodded grimly. “It’s burnt to a crisp.”

You sighed. “What the hell am I going to tell Jerry?”

“I told him you were mugged, and the book got stolen in the process,” he said. 

You raised a brow. 

“And he bought that?” you asked incredulously. 

“He seemed to,” Dean said. “You might have to smooth things over, but for now, you can just chill here at home, okay? You don’t have to go anywhere, talk to anyone, until you’re up to it.”

He settled you on the couch with your favorite throw blanket. 

“You hungry?” he asked. “I can make us something…or better yet, let’s order in. What do you feel like?”

You were too preoccupied to answer. Dean sighed and sat down beside you on the couch. He could tell that your mind was racing, but he couldn’t pinpoint more than a few stray thoughts. You bit your lip and looked up at him with tears in your eyes. 

“She killed all those people…using me,” you choked out. “And I can’t even remember most of it…”

“We destroyed the tapes,” Dean said. Though he knew that wasn’t what you were getting at. “There’s an active investigation, but she mainly used magic. If there’s any fingerprints, your dad will take care of it.”

You gripped your head with both hands in dismay. 

“He shouldn’t have to break the law for me. This is insane…”

Dean scooted over so he could hold you, rubbing your back while you dissolved into tears. It all but broke his heart. 

Deciding you might be more comfortable in bed, he picked you up bridal style. You continued to keep your face covered as he carried you to bed. 

Dean then settled in himself, but you surprised him a bit by turning to him. You moved over to his side of the bed and buried your face into his neck. He wrapped his arms around you, shushing you gently and soothing a warm hand up and down your back.

I can’t stand it, Dean, you whispered in his mind through the bond. So many people died because of me, in a single day.

It’s not your fault, he replied. Someone would’ve touched the book eventually. 

You just don’t know that. 

“What I know is you’re alive. And I'm damn grateful,” Dean said out loud, soft in your ear.

You sucked in a breath at that. You pulled away, just enough to see his face. Despite the tears clinging to your lashes, making your eyes red and puffy, you still looked beautiful to him. 

Because he recognized you—the size and strength of your heart. You were crying for people you hadn’t known, over something you had no control over, and had only vague memories of. But he knew you still felt responsible for their deaths, just as Dean would have, if he were in your shoes.   

“I’m grateful for you,” you replied, sniffling and stroking his cheek. “I’m so sorry for all this.”

Dean shook his head and pressed a kiss to your forehead, followed closely by your lips. 

The next day, Dean woke you with a kiss above your brow. 

“Morning, sleepyhead,” he said. He sat down the edge of the bed, already dressed in his usual jeans, undershirt and opened buttoned down ensemble. 

You smiled, until you spied the alarm clock on the nightstand and realized how late it was.

“I talked to Jerry, called you out of work on official police business,” he said, guessing at your thoughts. “Need your help tracking down the ‘mugger.’”

You gave a soft huff at that. “I don’t think that coverup is going to stick.”

Dean’s shrug was deceptive; he had already broken things down with Jack this morning, in painstaking detail, so that the murders of ten people likely wouldn’t be traced back to you. Jerry was, quite frankly, the least of his worries.

“It’s gonna be fine. I’ve got it all worked out,” he told you. “But are you hungry? Want some eggs, pancakes, bacon, or all three? Breakfast of champions.”

He rubbed his palms together with a grin, one you tried to match, despite being sleepy. Really, you still felt like total crap. But you appreciated the way he was trying to lift your spirits. 

“Whatever you want, baby,” you said, grabbing his hand, the one that held his mother’s ring. He looked down at you with a softer smile. He brought your hand up to his lips. 

“All right, beautiful. Breakfast of champions it is,” he said. You were able to smile a bit more as you watched him leave the bedroom.

Getting up was a monumental effort, but you made yourself do it, or you knew you would spend the entire day lying in bed and feeling sorry for yourself. 

Your guilt was still eating at you. You knew you could only try to move forward, like Sam and Dean used to have to do after a rough hunt. You tried to focus on one task, and the next, until you were dressed, freshened up, and sitting down across from Dean in the dining room, eating breakfast. 

But he picked up on the predictable course of your thoughts, most of them following the path of self-loathing. He took your hand across the table, which prompted you to look up at him from your eggs.

“You didn’t know the book was cursed,” he said. “Just because I’m retired from hunting, doesn’t mean this shit isn’t still out there.”

A fact that elicited his own guilt. 

That he got to have his normal life while other hunters scraped and struggled and died. You sensed his thoughts, and it broke you out of your own inner world. You squeezed his hand, feeling tears well up in your eyes. 

“You’ve earned this, Dean,” you said. “You’re finally living your life for you.”

He considered your hand in his. “That doesn’t make me selfish?”

“You deserve to be happy…even if I’ve been making that part difficult.” You wiped away the first couple of tears that broke down your cheeks when you remembered how angry you had been at him a few days ago. How selfish. “The fight we had, before all this started…”

Dean leaned over and brushed a lock of hair away from your eyes, along with a stray tear from your cheek. 

“Listen, whatever we were arguing about, it’s petty shit. Let’s just move on, okay?”

“It’s not petty,” you replied with a sniff. “You were right…about Jason. I shouldn’t have been out all night at his place.”

Dean was uncomfortably silent then, even though a part of him felt vindicated, deep down. It did also feel stupid now. 

“Look, I trust you,” he said.

“I know. But it’s still not fair to you,” you said with a sigh. “I know between my job, the wedding planning, and everything else, it doesn’t feel like we’ve actually been together for the past few months. I don’t want us to feel like that before, or after we get married.”

Dean folded his hands on the table. “Okay. So what do we do?”

You raised a brow at him. A teasing smile worked its way onto your face. 

“You’re letting me call the shots?” you asked. 

Dean noted that smile, spying a glimpse of your old self.

“Well, you generally do what you want anyway. So I figured I’d just tag along,” he remarked.

You pushed at his chest. “You’re not getting off that easily.” 

He grabbed that hand and held it. And he kissed the inside of your palm, then down your wrist. It was tender, languid, and sweet. Until the heat in his eyes made you blush, earning a smile from you.

“Come ‘ere,” he said. 

He tugged you over by your hand, and you got up, willingly being guided into his lap. Your free hand delved into his hair, nails scraping lightly against his scalp. He gave a pleased hum and tugged you down into a kiss. The heat of it made your toes curl as his hands molded to the curve of your ass. 

You held his face, pressing lingering kisses against his lips, along his jawline, down his neck…

Desire coursed through both of you, echoing through the soul bond in perfect symmetry. 

“I need you,” you whispered in his ear. 

Dean grinned against your neck. He slid an arm beneath your legs and around your back, and lifted you into the air, eliciting a squeal from you as he made a quick path to the bedroom.

Three weeks later…

“Hun, you need to calm down,” Jo told you. She was stifling her laughter as she fixed the lay of your wedding gown. 

It was ten more minutes of waiting.

Ten more minutes, and you wouldn’t have your last name anymore. You would be a Winchester. 

Sweet Jesus, you were about to be an honest-to-God wife.  

“I need ice,” you said, trying to air out your underarms. “Someone blot me. I’m sweating like a whore in church.”

Jo resisted the urge to remind you that you were in a church. Or at least, in the women’s dressing room.

“You’re gonna be fine,” Eileen said in amusement. You made sure to turn to her when you replied, so she could read your lips. 

“I feel bloated.” You grimaced, rubbing your chest as if that would quell your sudden anxiety. Or was it Dean’s? You couldn’t tell anymore. 

“Or possibly heartburn. Maybe the breakfast burrito wasn’t a good idea.”

“What’s to be nervous about? He faced down a literal goddess for you,” Eileen replied with a smile. You gave a wry smile, even if that was a somewhat painful reminder. 

“I know. And no matter the words, it’s just not enough to describe how much I love him. But it’s just…” you took in a deep breath. “What if I’m stopping him from being who he’s supposed to be, you know?”

Both women had to know what you meant. They were still hunters. Eileen and Jo shared a glance, but it was Eileen who touched your hand. 

“When I met Sam, I thought I had my life figured out. I was on my way out of New York. I never meant to stay, let alone for six months,” she said. 

And you knew this story, but it still warmed your heart to hear it again. 

“We’re still figuring it out,” Eileen admitted. “But I see you and Dean, and it gives me hope. It makes me think I can still be myself without hunting…maybe even a better version.”

You teared up, like the emotional wreck you were, but Eileen and Jo immediately went to blot it away from your mascara. 

You didn’t know that Dean was having a similar meltdown.

“Dude, quit fidgeting. You’re gonna be fine,” Sam said in amusement. He was fixing Dean’s cuffs, then the burgundy carnation pinned to his breast pocket.

“I don’t know if this monkey suit is fitting right,” Dean groused.

“It is,” Sam informed him. 

“Does it really need to be a flower,” Dean gestured at the pocket Sam was adjusting, along with the satin pocket square. 

“It does,” Sam once again informed him.

“I don’t know why. It’s not a fucking prom,” Dean muttered. 

Sam resisted the urge to laugh at his brother’s evident nervousness. “All right, just calm down.”

A knock sounded at the door to the men’s dressing room. In came Jack, popping his head in and asking if it was a good time.

“Perfect time,” Sam said, straightening his brother’s tie. “I’m going to check in with the ladies, see if they’re ready.”

Dean nodded, though his anxiousness grew to see him leave. Still, he welcomed Jack in to take a seat across from him on a wooden stool. Jack obliged, but first, he pulled out a flask from the inner pocket of his blazer. 

Dean raised a brow. “Whiskey?”

“You gotta ask?” Jack said. Dean grinned and took the flask, and then a sip. 

“The day I married my wife, I was much like you. Shittin’ my pants,” Jack said with a wry chuckle. Dean looked down, both embarrassed and amused.

“For me it was questions. So many questions,” Jack continued. “The world’s telling me this is it. This is the girl. But what does that mean…practically?”

Dean could relate to that. 

“You know what I found out?” Jack asked.

Dean looked up at him. “What?”

“The bond…it matters, but it doesn’t always make things easier either,” Jack said. “It just gives you a reason to be honest. To have someone you can be fully yourself with, no matter the repercussions. Someone who can be your true support system.”

“That sounds about right,” Dean said after a moment. Jack leaned across the divide to pat his shoulder. 

“After her mother died, I worried about my daughter every day,” he said, with some deeper emotion shining through his eyes. “I didn’t realize that she came up strong, stubborn, with her own ideas about the world and what she wanted from it.”

Dean nodded. That definitely sounded like you.

“We didn’t have the best start, you and I. But I see how you look after my girl. How you support each other,” he said. “I’m proud of you, son. Proud to call you that too.”

Dean’s throat constricted with unexpected emotion. On days like today, he really wished his dad could’ve lived to see this. 

But Dean was grateful to shake his father-in-law’s hand.

“Thank you, sir.”

Dean stood alone at the altar inside the church sanctuary. But he wouldn’t be alone for long.

Five minutes.

His gaze roamed, finding Bobby and Ellen in the first row. The latter was already teared up, smiling with almost motherly pride. Even Bobby shot him a wink and a smile. 

Dean smiled back at them and took in a steadying breath. There was Jody Mills and her husband, some of your friends from work, and from school. There were other friends of his from the precinct. 

Then he noticed someone in the back—a lanky kid with shaggy brown hair and an attitude. Dean grinned when Jessie Deluca met him with a lazy salute.

He’d been dropping by the precinct lately. Dean had taken him out a few times for burgers and pizza and light conversation. 

You had even suggested that Bobby give him a part-time job after school, at the tow yard, and a safe place to stay when he needed it. So far, Jessie hadn’t taken Bobby up on that offer. Dean was working on it.  

But the fact that he’d accepted Dean’s offhand invitation to his wedding spoke volumes. He sent the kid a little salute back, along with his grin. 

And then the music started. A hush drew over the crowd, and even Jessie took a seat in one of the pews. The double doors opened in the back, and down the aisle came Sam and Eileen. She looked beautiful in her wine-red dress. Sam was tall and dapper in his light gray suit, contrasting Dean’s darker one. 

Jo was next, being escorted by one of your buddies from college, then your cousin Lily and her boyfriend. And finally, your father walked you down the aisle. 

Dean sucked in a subtle breath. He’d never seen the dress, of course, but it was beautiful. You were beautiful. 

The moment you reached out and took his hand, he could breathe again. 

And he knew then that he was ready…because this felt right. 

He later showed you the ring before he slipped it on your finger — engraved with an anti-possession star. You smiled up at him wryly. 

But then your smile became more genuine, more lovely. Your eyes shone bright with unshed tears. 

You held nothing back from the soul bond, and so Dean got a full picture of what it was to be loved. 

His eyes burned too. He hoped you were able to read his WiFi signals right back. Because just now, he wasn’t sure if his voice was going to cooperate with him.

The simple fact of it was, you were his girl. His person.

And that was something that couldn’t be broken.

AN: I hope you enjoyed this more official epilogue to Never Say Goodbye! ❤️

It’s been so much fun to write this story. But let me know if there are any requests in this story-verse! I’d be happy to come back to it someday. 🥹

Keep Reading:

Ready for another bonus one-shot?

Read on: The Old-Fashioned Way You and Dean are having trouble trying to start a family. What happens when you turn to a spell for a possible solution?

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[hum-suffer]

I'm Yours 3

Welcoming Shubhman into his house is an awkward affair.

They were just harmonising, badly, to Rim Jhim Gire Sawan, and the parking area of Ishan's house doesn't have a shed or something, so they're left carefully sprinting across the garden to the house. Ishan had been in dilemma the whole ride, knowing that there was no shed and if Shubhman got out, he'd be drenched too, but not inviting him felt like Ishan was the world's biggest asshole.

However, Indradev made the decision for him. The rain slowed a bit, not completely stopping, but just enough to not develop pneumonia or something. And Shubhman helps as well— his voice, his beautiful fucking voice, turns deeper in the car ride. It's a sign of an incoming cold, Shubhman says, he gets cold easily.

Shubhman hovers awkwardly at the threshold.

"Are you a vampire, man? You won't come in until I invite you? Come on in!" Ishan will end up hitting himself in the wall. What is he saying. Yes, why doesn't he embarrass himself further and admit that his fictional crush is Elijah Mikaelson—

Shubhman grins,"Nope, but I must respect your privacy." He makes jazz hands at the comment as he walks in. "Lying, I respect your furniture more."

Ishan chuckles. "Wait here, I'll get you a towel."

Shubhman hasn't moved an inch in the two minutes that Ishan precariously ran to get him a towel and. And. Okay.

He shakes off the power rush with a shake of his head and smiles lightly at Shubhman, who shakes his head as he dries his hair, not unlike a puppy.

"Come, I'll make us some tea. You can go home after the rain stops."

"Thank you, Ishan, but I don't think i ven impose on you like that," he says, eyes impossibly shy. He's adorable, Ishan thinks.

Ishan shakes his head,"It's not an imposition if I'm asking you to do it, Shubhman. Come, and I'll have some company too."

____________________________________________________

They sit at the dining table after Ishan hastily slides the gajras to the other end.

Shubhman raises an eyebrow. "Girlfriend?"

No, a stalker, actually. Someone who's actually broken into my house and hasn't stolen anything, hasn't hurt me but brought me gajras. Someone who somehow managed to enter the house even after Ishan added the age old heavy, traditional lock.

Someone who was his, wholly.

The possession ignites like lava in his chest.

Since the days he was a child, Ishan has been mindlessly possessive. He did not share, not willingly. What was his, remained his in entirety. Him sharing anything he owned was a privilege equal to a gods gift, he'd been teased. But it was nothing less, either. Ishan would bleed for someone he loved, yes, but his possessions? He would wage war for them.

Now, for the first time in his life, he had something that was wholly his. Not like the house, which had been his grandfather's. Not like the bike, which his dad gifted him. Not like anything else. His admirer, he was the only person who wanted Ishan so madly, and Ishan craved the attention. He'd been checking his phone in between the seminar too, for any new messages, and the disappointment at the lack of any messages was sour and bitter.

Ishan steals a glance at the gajras and another at Shubhman. Shubhman patiently raised his eyebrows with an amused and interested smile.

"Something like that, yes."

____________________________________________________

Shubhman leaves after they get way too involved in an Anupama rerun and both of them begin to simp on Gaurav Khanna whilst wishing him a divorce.

Ishan is still on the serotonin high, the cups of tea feeling like some sort of achivement. Was it a date? He doesn't know. But he definitely adored each second.

He sinks down in the bathtub with a satisfied hiss, the warm water making him feel the best he's been. Maybe he needed this evening, he thinks, closing his eyes. He needed the relaxation, the chance to just calm down. The seminar preparation had him bouncing around the college and now that it's done, he could just sleep for the next three days.

He hums under his breath, his mind wandering to the admirer he has.

What is his name? What does he do? Is it a he? When did he become obsessed with Ishan? Why?

The warm feeling stays and before long, Ishan delved into the memories he has of movies and series he's seen, wishing that he'd be loved so. What would Ishan do, he wonders, if he got asked on a date?

He'd bring flowers, for sure. And maybe dance on Kishore Kumar songs.

Absolutely dance on Kishore Kumar songs, actually.

The water is turning colder and he opens his eyes with a groan.

He streches to reach his towel and. And.

There's a bunch of jasmines over his towel, which weren't there before.

His breath hitches and he looks around. He doesn't know if it's anticipation or panic or hysteria.

Ishan takes a deep breath. At least he was wearing his boxers.

He grabs his phone as soon as he's out of the fucking unlocked bathroom.

'Don't be so careless, love,'

'Not everyone has intentions as pure as I do.'

For some reason, Ishan shivers at that. The messages aren't even a minute old and he runs out to the porch in his sweats and the ratty tshirt that's inside out.

"Where the fuck are you?" He says out loud in frustration when he finds no one around him and he immediately feels like an idiot for saying things aloud to air. It's one thing to talk to himself and other to speak so loudly.

His heart thuds uselessly in his chest and Ishan gulps, listening to air.

His phone vibrates in his hand.

'Are you sure you want me to come to you, love? No more fake courage?'

Ishan doesn't answer the message.

"What should I call you? A creep? That was ridiculous and rude!"

'Ah, there he is'

'Call me yours, Ishan. Already told you this, haven't I?'

And Ishan.

Ishan is tired.

He's been yawning for a while and he'd almost fell asleep in the bathtub. He's too tired to shout at an empty space and receive more messages.

He sends a message that he knows he will regret as he closes and locks the door.

'Whatever is mine, works in any way I want it to. Be careful what you wish for.'

____________________________________________________

The gajra on his wrist isn't even a surprise.

The surprise, is the rose on his bedside.

'I don't even like roses,' he writes.

'Your way of thanking me is always weird.' his admirer writes back. Ishan gets up from the bed with a smile on his face.

Ishan did indeed take a leave on Tuesday, a late night message to Rohit bhaiya and another one to the group of his students was all it took to arrange his leave for the day. He never has more then three lectures on Tuesdays, and he knows he deserves a day to laze around after all the hellish work he's done.

He ends up watching a Marathi movie that makes him sob like a child. And then going to sleep again.

____________________________________________________

It's Aditi that drags him out of the house.

"Enjoy your life, at least!" She yells at him through the phone. "If I hear one more complaint about your students, I will burn your college!"

Just to be cheeky, Ishan complaints about the schedule he keeps and ends up getting cussed. He cackles all the way to his closest, ruffling around for clothes to change into, because he knows his friend. If she's determined, she will definitely drag him out of the house.

He doesn't think it's a very bright idea, if he's honest. What could be better than drinking tea while watching cooking dinner and watching YouTube roasts?

But, he digresses.

He changes into a plane white shirt and folds the sleeves to the elbow and changes into a pair of black dress pants he favours particularly well. He would have worn the bloody blue silk shirt had it not been swiped from him.

The thought of his admirer makes him check his phone again.

The last message reads,'Go and get some fresh air, love. Give me a challenge.'

He wanted a challenge, Ishan thinks with a smirk. He's going to get one.

____________________________________________________

Tagging: @onthecloudseven @mayakimayahai @kyayaarkiraa @ispeakmorelanguagesthanyou @ms-potato @khwxbeeda @ek-ladki-bheegi-bhagi-si @fortunatelycrazyyouth @k-h-watari (aur koi reh Gaya hai toh pls tell me!)

#suffer ye suhana nahi #desi tumblr #desiblr #ishman #shubhish #shubhman gill #ishan kishan #cricket

[sapphicvalentines]

☆Baby,the stars shine bright☆ pt4

pt1 , pt2 , pt3

inspired by the 'kamikaze girls',♡ always had unconditional love for lolita fashion and nothing else but when she met ellie,an auburn haired girl whos part of a gang with a dad's fashion sense ,her love for clothes begins to compete with her growing feelings for ellie

strangers to friends to lovers,love-hate friendship,ellie is into reader♡ but reader♡ shows no interest (in the beginning),opposite aesthetics,early 2000s

wlw,fluff

wc:5k

warnings: none except violence

On a rainy Friday night, when a storm was raging, you were more worried about your father than yourself, even as the whole house shook violently.

He finally came back home, soaked clothes clinging to him, and bruises marking his face.

You felt relieved that he still had all four fingers, after his gang had taken one for letting an enemy escape.

As tears streamed down his face, you quickly wiped them away as he sat before you.

It was clear to you, even then, that you would never choose the same path as your father.

"I'm not interested" you responded to ellie standing in front of you.

The way you beat up the man who stole your purse surprised Ellie, but the fact that you stood up for yourself and didn't ask her to make him pay got her even more interested. It felt like a waste not to have you in Dina's gang, but she still respected your decision; she knew she couldn't force you into criminality.

Also, who the hell would fight in a frilly dress?

Ellie understood that you had your own reasons (she thought you couldn't bear wearing anything other than Lolita dresses).

You couldnt perfectly hear the low whispers from Ellie's friends, but you guessed they wondered why Ellie was asking you to join the gang.

Ellie turned to them and introduced you, saying, "she sells really cool stuff,i got a new jacket for Himeko."

The gangsters shot you a more appreciative glance before talking with Ellie. She explained the whole thing about your stolen purse to them while you were just standing there like this 🧍‍♀️.

After a while, Ellie turned her attention back to you, telling you she has to go do what she usually does while out with her gang.

The girls' motorcycles roared once again, with Ellie sitting behind one of her friends since she had left hers at home. They respectfully said 'goodbye' and left, disappearing into the dust.

Suddenly, you felt self-conscious about the idea of Ellie finding out you had sold her fake brand clothes. If she ever told her whole gang, they would certainly not spare you any trouble and might even do worse than chopping off your fingers...

☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°

The next day, you were met with peace, but you also had mixed feelings.

You hadn't seen Ellie all day, but out of sight didn't mean out of mind.

Every time you'd do anything, it felt like you were trying to distract yourself from thinking of her.

You kept thinking about how she was willing to help you catch the thief and find your purse, how she tried to lift your spirits up no matter how tired you were, and how proud and impressed she was when you made the thief pay.

It was cloudy that day, but her smile was outshining the sun.

The 200 bucks she helped you get weren't used to buy a new purse; you looked at it and put it in your wallet. Instead of saving up, you thought about giving it to Ellie as a sign of gratitude.

After all, you would probably still be waiting for the police to find your purse if Ellie hadn't been here for you.

Ellie also gave you her phone number,

'just in case you need my help.'

You saved it in your contacts; in fact, she was the only person you've ever had in there.

As you were thinking about texting her, you were also contemplating your emotions.

Bitter, but also sweet; you've never felt lonely before meeting Ellie.

Perhaps it was because you spent such a great time with her that you finally acknowledged a hole you didn't even know was there in the first place.

A hole that was created when you made the mistake of getting attached to people who weren't worthy of your love.

You only realize it now that she's gone, that it actually felt pleasant being around her.

You closed your glittering flip phone, making a 'clap' sound as you sighed. You were comfortable being alone but uncomfortable feeling lonely.

"she's probably having fun with her friends," you thought. So instead of texting her, you tried to distance yourself.

And it started with getting rid of your thoughts about her. So you cleaned your room, baked with your grandma, had tea time, listened to classical music as you sewed a brand new headband, and tried on different outfits for the next time you go out. However, you were spending more time trying to distract yourself than actually enjoying yourself.

You fell into a restless sleep after this long, tiring day, still with the feeling you failed to make go away.

☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°

One, then two, then three rocks were thrown at your window. You were already awake, lying on your bed, but too lazy to start changing.

Or just start this day, in general.

Then another rock hit your window. The rocks were too small to break the glass, but you still wondered why this person kept persisting at getting your attention.

Although you already had your own idea of who that person was.

After slipping out of the covers, you walked towards your windows and opened them, pushing out the curtains, letting the morning sun enter your bedroom.

You weren't surprised to see her once again.

Ellie looked up at you with a faint smile and waved at you without saying a word.

You had no idea why she showed up in front of your house, but the reason was probably not as important as buying your fake luxury clothes.

After a moment of silence, you started to close the windows, making the auburn-haired girl scream to stop.

That was not so discreet of her.

"i'm just going to change, I'll be right back," you reassured her before closing the windows and putting on the curtains.

About 15 minutes passed by before you showed up in front of Ellie. You didn't wear something extravagant, unlike other days, just a simple baby pink and white dress matching with your old-school lolita bonnet.

To Ellie, you took a lot of time to dress up just to put on a simple outfit. "you know, that's kinda rude", Ellie referred to you closing the windows when you saw her.

"I was going to sleep in, but you interrupted me".You didn't only close them for changing, but mostly to annoy her. Her reactions were so funny.

"sleeping that much is bad for your health though",Ellie replied, looking at your face. You looked like you had enough beauty sleep, unlike her and her eye bags.

On the other hand, you didn't mind her eye bags; they looked cute. But the cute freckles adorning her face were adorable.

"what do you know about health? you smoke", you retorted. It was enough to make her face instantly turn as red as a tomato. She was thinking of a violent comeback but couldn't reply. "anyways, why didn't you just knock at the front door like a decent human?"

"your grandma's there"ellie pointed at your front door where your grandma was. You suddenly remembered when your grandma was trying to tear her ear off; it was hilarious now that you think about it.

"oh yeah, I forgot, she's guarding the house from people like you",you said, holding back your laugh. But Ellie wasn't pleased by the slight insult/teasing. You didn't forget when she revealed she stalked your dad though.

"hey, who gives you money? you better watch your mouth," Ellie said, half-jokingly, but you still enjoyed teasing her; it was like a guilty pleasure.

You wanted to ask her why she hadn't come to see you at all yesterday, but Ellie suddenly grabbed your arm, remembering why she came here in the first place. "come with me, I wanna show you something."

Her touch was as warm as the weather. You couldn't explain why, but it brought you a feeling of comfort, knowing that today was going to be as pleasant as a few days ago, or maybe even better.

However, you still felt reluctant.

What's with the excited look on her face?

Ellie didn't directly voice her intentions and it didn't convince you to follow her. "what is it?"

The fact that you spent a whole day with her, even if the reason was looking for your purse, was enough for Ellie to consider you as a friend.

Ellie wanted to keep it a surprise, but she also knew you wouldn't go with her if she told you what she had in mind. "do you trust me?"she asked.

She looked deep into your eyes with a faint smile, she couldnt convince you , so she tried persuasion.

"absolutely not",you replied honestly. The last time she told you to trust her was before the spicy food contest, and this girl couldn't eat spicy noodles to save her life!

The truth was that she just wanted to help. If lying about the most random things could get you to do fun things with her, she would certainly do it.

And that's exactly how she managed to get you behind her on her black bosozoku. You were gripping the sides of her motorcycle for dear life, not having any seatbelt on.

Ellie pushed the key, turning on her motorcycle, before looking at you to make sure you felt safe.

You caught her smirk before she turned her head back to look at the road; the gangster could tell you've never been on a motorcycle before.

"gimme your hands," Ellie said.

You did as Ellie said, and she placed your arms around her waist. You didn't mind being this close to her since it was for your safety, especially when she smelled so good.

You felt safer holding Ellie like this than wearing helmets and protection from head to toe.

But that quickly changed as soon as she drove off, speeding as if she owned the road.

Many drivers honked, surprised by how fast and how close Ellie was approaching them. You could swear you would have died right there if she wasn't used to doing this.

It was almost miraculous that both of you arrived safe and sound in Shibuya, but not without feeling so dizzy that you couldn't walk straight.

"c'mon, was I really that bad?" Ellie complained at your reaction. She forgot it was your first time on a motorcycle as she was driving; she was purely guided by adrenaline and kind of felt bad about it.

"are you expecting me to praise you after driving like this?" You left home without eating breakfast, and Ellie promised you'd eat once you guys arrived in Shibuya. However, you were too nauseous to put anything in your mouth. You wondered if it wasnt part of her plan

The worst part is Ellie wasn't even drunk,she was driving like this sober !

As she was driving, you forced yourself not to blink, too scared that you would see your life flash by at any moment.

"you're such a drama queen. also, I like physical touch over praises if that helps," the auburn-haired girl chuckled. She saw how nauseous you felt and decided to get you straight to the place she had in mind, skipping breakfast.

"shut up"you retorted but you didnt let this information unregistered in your head.

☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°

Entering this luxurious building felt like stepping into a hidden world. You felt excited, but it also felt wrong.

Everyone gathered around everything. Younger adults were drawn towards slot machines, whereas older people gathered around tables playing games you knew your dad had played before.

You immediately recognized you had entered a casino when you saw the elders playing roulette.

It was during this game that your dad met his ex-gang for the very first time, managing to befriend the members despite losing all his money to them.

That must be a gangster thing because Ellie was literally the one dragging you here. You had passed in front of the building multiple times but never entered it due to lack of interest.

Ellie walked towards the back of the room, holding your hand to make sure you wouldn't run away.

You felt eyes on you as Ellie continued towards a colorful door at the back of the room, its colors contrasting with the white-beige walls of the room but blending perfectly with the one she led you into.

The pink and yellow machines immediately caught your eye.

Ellie knew what she was doing.

Upbeat music played, setting the atmosphere, and unlike the other room, these games attracted both elders and younger people.

"what game is that?" You turned to Ellie, who was already taking a seat. There was no way you could refuse playing pachinko after she had won you 200 bucks last time.

"just another way for us to make money,who knows...we might even get rich by the end of the day." Ellie had played pachinko multiple times before bringing you here for the first time. Luck wasn't something she believed in, but she had learned tricks that often made her win—maybe not every time, but more than everyone in the room combined.

It was also the occasion to see you and make up for her absence yesterday since she was busy kicking ass with her friends.

But mostly, she wanted to show off after losing the spicy eating contest to you. She still hadn't recovered after this, being the bad loser she is...

"sometimes your confidence is kinda tricky," you replied, looking at her hands taking out shiny balls from her pockets.

This girl never carried a bag, so she had the most random things hidden in her pockets.

"just sometimes, not every time" Ellie took your hand, giving you a handful of pachinko balls without giving you the choice but to play with her.

It's not like you would say 'no' after making all this way here, and especially after she helped you find your precious purse.

Her finger softly grazed next to the silver bow ring adorning your middle finger.

"did you know that you can make jewelry out of pachinko balls?" Ellie asked as she pulled a lever, launching the balls in the machine. Colorful arrows of lights flickered on the Pac-Man backboard as upbeat music started to play.

"really?" You mimicked Ellie's action with your Dragon Ball Z-themed machine. You weren't particularly into shonen anime, but the other machine to Ellie's right was already taken by a young guy.

Ellie elaborated as she adjusted the pressure on the lever, launching the shiny balls in the machine, trying to get them into the winning pocket. "you can drill small holes into the balls to string them together for necklaces or bracelets. I've seen some girls adding beads and charms, it's kinda cute."

Your eyes followed the balls bouncing off pins and obstacles as you pressed the button, trying to control their trajectory. Too focused on the machine in front of you, you nodded in response to her random facts.

Ellie then closed her mouth, fully dedicating her attention to putting the small balls in the winning pocket. The balls kept launching in the machine as she applied pressure on the lever, but not a single one would hit the jackpot. She considered this as a warm-up, hoping she would quickly get the hang of it.

On the other hand, despite having absolutely no experience in playing pachinko or gambling games, you were doing perfectly, having each single ball thrown straight into the winning pocket as if you'd been playing for years.

It was not strategy nor how many times you were pressing the button that would make you win; there was simply no other explanation than luck. You never went outside without putting on your favorite silver ring, convinced that it would bring you luck. And here you were, getting more balls in the tray ready to be exchanged for money.

Ellie looked at your machine, purely intrigued. She thought she was going to impress you and not the other way around.

Not a single ball missed the winning pocket!

"hey, did you know why the pachinko ball went to school?" Ellie went back to playing but not without trying to distract you.

"I have no idea." You knew what Ellie was doing; you were starting to know her a little better. Her stupid jokes weren't something that would easily distract you; in fact, you kept accumulating new balls in your tray.

"because it wanted to be a little brighter." She was the only one laughing, but she managed to make you smile, which satisfied her.

She was convinced she could make you laugh out loud soon.

"trying to distract me won't make you win." You would occasionally glance at her, desperately trying to get at least one ball in the winning pocket, noticing how her confidence disappeared instantly from the minute she started to pull the lever.

You almost pitied her. (you kept playing anyway.)

Ellie thought there was no other explanation than a machine problem; maybe she picked a defective machine that would only make her lose.

After a few minutes, you noticed Ellie wasn't beside you anymore; the seat on your right was empty, and instead of her, you caught the envious gaze of a guy looking younger than you.

The sound of people whispering behind you, along with balls aggressively flipping at every corner of the machine, made you turn around; Ellie was behind you on another machine.

Luckily winning, she'd get new shiny balls in her tray after 30 minutes of playing, already imagining how full of cash her pockets were going to be.

However, if money could bring luck, it could also do the opposite; you were too focused on your game to notice how much attention it gathered.

"It's her, right over there with the child's clothes," the door in the back of the room opened before loudly being slammed. Two men in suits walked straight towards you.

Ellie noticed them and stood up before they could try anything.

"she's cheating, sir! I saw her with my own eyes!" It was the same guy looking at you with pure envy from earlier, now talking. You didn't even notice him leaving. You wondered how he was going to prove it.

"miss, stand up and step aside," the taller guy ordered, not even considering the younger guy lying.

"how is winning cheating? this dude is just mad that I have good luck," you defended yourself, but you could tell the taller guy didn't want to hear anything from a woman like you, even if you were telling the truth.

You desperately wanted to keep your jackpot, so you had no choice but to do as he told you, hoping this misunderstanding would quickly end.

Suddenly, you felt a hand forcefully pushing you towards the two men. The three of you fell to the floor like bowling pins, with the two men's heads bumping into each other as yours was cushioned by the tall guy's abdomen.

You didn't even want to apologize when the younger dude yelled at you for trying to kill them, claiming it was an attempt to get away with your 'cheating'

You sighed at how chaotic the situation had turned in just a split second and noticed Ellie behind you.

The two men slowly stood up, and the taller guy pushed you away before he went to check the pachinko machine.

There was no proof that you were cheating, and the look of envy on the guy's face was now mixed with jealousy.

He added another lie, determined to make you lose your jackpot. "aren't minors forbidden in this place, sir?"

His tone was so cocky; you were more trying to control yourself from punching him in the face than keep explaining yourself.

"shut the fuck up. I bet your pubic hair is still growing for the first time," Ellie walked towards him as she cracked her fingers, her patience quickly wearing thin.

The guy stepped back anxiously as he recognized the golden signature on Ellie's jacket.

You've never seen anyone get in such a state just by looking at someone's jacket, but this also explained why everyone would give Ellie a 3-meter of private space in public.

"excuse me? watch your mouth, otherwise not only her, but also you will be expelled," he wasn't even denying what Ellie had said.

The tall man looked you up and down, wondering how the guards even let you enter the casino. You and Ellie didn't even see anyone controlling people at the entrance.

Ellie's gaze shifted from the young guy's face to the tall man's, coming up with a quick lie too, even though both of you were legal. "no, seriously, she's uh... she's my mother. she's just dressed in child's clothes."

Both of the guys looked at each other before looking at you, searching for any sign of old age.

"Yeah, I brought my daughter here so we could get money and get a lawyer for divorce." Your brain worked faster than you'd think. You glanced at Ellie before looking at them, hoping to make this lie sound like truth to the stupid men.

Unfortunately, their level of stupidity was so high that they would only believe men lying, but never women, regardless of whether they'd lie or tell the truth.

Because you had tried both,but it didn't stop both you and Ellie from being expelled from the casino, thrown outside of the building like useless trash.

You brushed the dust off your dress as you stood up with Ellie. "I hate men," you complained as you looked at the front of the building.

The reason both of you got kicked out wasn't because of your age, but because Ellie violently headbutted the two men who were going to call the police on them.

You didn't blame her though; you got kicked out without your jackpot, but she did what you restrained yourself from doing.

Ellie looked at you, making sure you weren't hurt or anything. "same, they didn't have to throw us out like that", her voice dripping with annoyance as she looked back at the building.

Although you were safe, with no police to track you down and no men trying to threaten you, you still felt bad and for losing the jackpot you won.

But you stopped worrying once you recognized the shiny balls Ellie was taking out of her pockets. "no need to be grumpy now,i got these just in time" Ellie said proudly as she handed them out to you. Ellie was usually chill and carefree, but in serious situations, her brain would always work faster than she'd think. That's how she got the quick reflex to push you to the two douchebags so she could put your pachinko balls in her pocket.

There was no way you were going to get in trouble AND lose what belonged to you.

☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°

Impatiently, both of you went to exchange the pachinko balls for money secretly. It wasn't your first time doing something illegal for your own interest; in fact, it was starting to become a habit.

Ellie counted up all the money while you stood next to her, ensuring there was no one watching around, but your eyes would always turn back to Ellie with a focused look on her face.

You couldn't see her beautiful freckles because the roofs of the houses were blocking the sun, casting their shadows on the ground.

The darkness reflected the mystery of Ellie's mind to you.

You wondered what her childhood was like, why she liked darker colors, how she always appeared tough and fearless. You wondered if she ever showed her vulnerable side to her gang members.

But mostly, you wondered why she kept helping you. Was there a deeper meaning behind her smile, a message conveyed through the way she looked at you, and why was she desperate to hear you laugh at her jokes?

Ellie wasn't an attention seeker, but she loved it when you would give yours to her.

The way you stood up for yourself and kicked the ass of the asshole who stole your purse that day was undeniably attractive.

Ellie was still thinking about it; she also imagined how it would be if you joined her gang. The day after that, although she hadn't seen you all day, it didn't mean that you didn't leave her mind.

You realized you hit the big jackpot when Ellie gave you the amount of money your luck was worth; those 500 bucks were easy money for you.

Ellie had a bit less money than you, but when you handed her half of what you had, she refused respectfully.

"we said we'd split up," you insisted. You still had the 200 bucks she got you doubled up in your purse. They were the first thing you grabbed before she drove you to the casino. You never had the occasion to properly thank her for helping you find your purse until now.

Ellie looked at you. She knew your intention but still refused, though she appreciated the act. "you won this because you're a good player. It's yours," her tone softer than usual.

So you softened yours too. "at least take it as a gift." You took her hand, but she closed it before you could give her anything.

You knew Ellie preferred actions over words, so why wasn't she accepting the money?

"I swear I'm going to shove it in your mouth if you keep refusing my act of gratefulness."

Ellie just laughed at how quickly your tone changed, insisting for her to take the money you offered her. She liked how fast you started to understand her.

"Wow, so kind of you, but-"Ellie replied sarcastically, but suddenly her phone rang, interrupting your moment.

Slipping the money into her pockets was far from discreet, so you decided to wait.

You weren't listening, just hearing.

You assumed the deep raspy voice talking to Ellie was Joel. He was telling her to come back home soon since the sun was going to start setting, which she agreed to. She couldn't say 'no' after he said he made pizza.

Ellie talked to Joel as she kept eye contact with you, making the call quick.

"' 'mkay, see ya," she closed her flip phone, making a 'clap' sound before fully focusing her attention back to you.

"kiddo..." you muttered. The way Ellie and Joel conversed told you a lot about their relationship. Joel had a caring yet friendly tone, while Ellie would give short and direct responses. Something felt off between these two, but what caught your attention the most was the nickname Joel would call Ellie. "he calls you kiddo, how cute."

Ellie put her phone back in her pocket, giving you an unappreciative side eye. "don't call me that."

"I was just saying that the way he calls you kiddo's cute." You noticed how embarrassed Ellie got; it showed all over her face with how fast she blushed.

Ellie sighed. She regretted not lowering the volume of her phone during her call; she knew you would tease her about it. "yeah, but he's the only one allowed to call me that."

"but I wasnt calling you kiddo."

"say that one more time and I'll kill you." Ellie shot you a glare as she playfully threatened you. You forgot this side of her for a moment. It wasn't the weed making her chill and goofy whenever she's around you; it was just the way she was with you.

You smiled playfully before leaning your face toward her,you knew perfectly how to annoy her "kiddo"

You ran as fast as you could away from her, with her chasing you.

The wind was blowing against you, making your hair fly as you ran.

Ellie was catching up to you, but before she could grab you ,you stumbled and slipped headfirst on the floor !

Too embarrassed, you stayed on the floor when you heard Ellie exploding into laughter as if she had been holding her laughter in for centuries.

"you don't even wear platforms, how the fuck did you slip like that?" Ellie walked closer to you still refusing to budge. You wanted her to feel guilty

Ellie noticed the lack of response and instantly got worried, already imagining the worst scenarios. She crouched down, gently moving your hair out of your face. "hey ♡, are you ok?" Her voice was caring and gentler compared to earlier.

If she only talks to you like this when worried, you'd stumble on the ground more often.

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