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here4kpopfics · 1 year

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Lose My Mind | Wonwoo

Pairing: Wonwoo x (f)reader

Genre: angst, smut

AU: established relationship, biker!au

Wordcount: 5,722

Summary: you can only deal with your fiancé’s antics for so long before you finally give up.

Warnings: Language, fighting/violence, blood, cleaning of wounds, wonwoo gets slapped, much angst, smut, oral, unprotected sex (wrap it pls), creampie, cum eating.

Rating: M/18+

AN: Happy Birthday to my soulmate @playmetheclassics! I love you so very much, I'm so happy to have met you and can't wait for the day I can hug you for real and I hope you enjoy this lovely pile of angst with a dash of smut. First time writing from someone not reader’s POV so I apologize in advance if it’s eh at all. Trying to improve my skills. Thank you to @the-boy-meets-evil for beta-reading, and @classicscreations for the banner/divider. Enjoy!!! 💜

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“I can’t do this anymore. I can’t live this life with you if this is how you’re going to be, Wonwoo.”

The memory plays back in his mind clear as day as he spins the engagement ring around on the sticky counter.

“I love you so much, I’m sorry.” Your voice breaks as the tears stream down your cheeks. He wants to wipe them away, wants to change your mind. But he can’t. He knows he can’t. So he lets you take his hand in yours, setting the engagement ring he worked so hard to find just for you in his palm and letting go.

How could he have fucked this up so badly?

He met you four years ago at some party he couldn’t remember the host of if he tried. You were in skin tight jeans, a lacy bodysuit leaving very little to the imagination, boots, and a motorcycle jacket on top.

The definition of perfection in Wonwoo’s eyes.

Alcohol brought you two together quickly, and soon after sobering up while talking to you, had you on his motorcycle as he drove through the city to his place where you two had sex into the early hours of the morning. The way you moaned his name, nails scraping down his back as you clenched around him had him seeing stars and finally believing in something, anything, because you existed.

You ghosted him for a month and he was going insane. Just one night with you was addicting enough that he needed more. He needed you around him at all times. He needs you on the back of his bike, your arms tight around his waist as you clung to him for dear life.

He finally found you at another party, cornering you in a room and demanding you explain why you ghosted him.

“Had to see if you were worth it. If you really wanted me or if you were just drunk and horny.”

He cut off any further explanation with his lips against yours, roughly fucking you against the wall when you said the word please.

Two years later, he’s hopelessly in love with you and you are with him. He had introduced you to his biker gang, which you thought was adorable at first, but soon grew to have a love/hate relationship with. You became friends with the other significant others of the gang, all of you often worrying about your men getting into trouble. The others treated it like a joke, but you genuinely worried every day and night for him.

He often came home with bruises or a cut lip. He wouldn’t tell you what happened. He couldn’t. It always led to a fight. Which would then lead to angry makeup sex. He’d promise to lessen the fighting and you’d stupidly believe him. Every. Time.

The third year, he wound up in the hospital you worked at after a car merged into him when he was in their blind spot. You told him to get rid of the bike, to just get a car and be safe. He refused. You were mad, but you loved him enough to stay home with him and help him get better.

The day he proposed, you two were at a bar, surrounded by his crew. Mingyu handed you a shot, saying congratulations, not realizing Wonwoo hadn’t proposed yet. When you looked at him, it made Wonwoo want to tear Mingyu apart for spoiling it. He took you away from the group, taking you outside where it was snowing. He stood you next to his bike, getting down on one knee and showing the ring, asking you to be his forever.

He swore he understood the entire universe when you said yes and put the ring on.

That stupid ring.

That stupid ring he can't stop playing with as he fights the urge to throw it against the wall with the liquor bottles.

“Wonwoo? It’s three in the morning, where have you been?” Your voice is laced with exhaustion, worry, fear, and anger.

He hates that tone. But it’s nothing compared to the tone that always follows next.

“I got sidetracked with the guys.”

“Sidetracked? Are you serious?” There it is.

He tries to sidestep you in the dark living room, hoping you don’t see his face. But you do.

Because you know.

You always know.

You’ve known since the beginning.

He fights. Late at night in the back room of a dirty bar. He fights.

And he wins.

Usually.

Your hand reaches for his forearm as he tries to move past you. You’re smaller than he is, but you have a control over him that he’ll never understand. He puts it down as either you being in the medical field or simply his love for you and the way he’d walk on fire for you.

He winces when you drag him to the bathroom, flicking on the light and making him sit on the edge of the tub while you acquire the first aid kit. He watches you move, you still haven’t looked at him. Your body moves around the bathroom like it’s done this a hundred times before, setting up the counter with everything needed to clean wounds and stitch up the hits he received.

When you finally turn back to him, putting on the disposable gloves, your eyes avoid his, grabbing his hands and assessing the damage. You let go of one of them, keeping his dominant hand in yours as you turn back to the counter to grab what you need.

“Y/n…”

He’s cut off by your perfectly timed and nowhere near gentle application of rubbing alcohol. He takes it as a threat to be quiet, so he does. He watches you work, cleaning his knuckles before adding medication to them and bandaging him up. You quietly repeat the action on the other hand, this time a little gentler with the alcohol.

“Jacket.” You mutter it softly, and he’s quick to obey, shedding the leather jacket that reeks of beer, liquor, and a dirty room, without making much movement. You inspect his arms, seeing only hints of bruises forming, but no blood or dislocations. Not this time at least. As if routine, he removes his shirt too, letting you access the hits he got to the chest and back. Nothing this time.

Your hands delicately hold his face, your eyes continuing to avoid his gaze. His eyes follow yours as you analyze his injuries, preparing in your mind what you need to do. All part of the routine, he thinks.

You turn back to the counter, hesitating.

“Where are your glasses?” You ask, turning back to him, pouring some alcohol on a pad.

“I…I lost them.”

You sigh, dabbing the alcohol harshly against his eyebrow, letting him wince in pain.

“Where are your glasses?” You ask again, with a hint of anger in your voice. He knows he can’t get away with lying.

“They broke.”

“How’d you get home?”

“My bike.”

He wasn’t prepared for the sharp slap across his face.

All the punches he’s received in his fights, all the hits and kicks and cuts and bruises, all felt like nothing in comparison to that slap.

But he doesn’t react. He sits and he waits for whatever’s next because this isn’t part of the routine. When he fights, his glasses are tucked away somewhere safe and he puts in his contacts, tearing them out once he’s done and the glasses go back on when he’s back on the bike so he can see on his way home.

Your eyes finally meet his, and it feels like the earth is about to swallow him whole. The betrayal and the sadness in your eyes just enhance the pain from the slap. You say nothing, and neither does he as you turn back to the counter to quickly put everything together.

You silently get back to work, cleaning up the rest of the injuries, turning back to the counter to open up the little tube of glue he knows you hate using. He’s seen you at work doing this, you’re great at it. But that’s because it’s your job and you’re good at your job. And it’s also in a perfectly clean and sanitary place. But in your bathroom, at three in the morning, patching up the man you love? It’s a complete one-eighty. And he sees the fear in the way your hands shake, the way a single tear falls from your eye as you turn back to him.

He closes his eyes as you take a deep breath, trusting you completely.

His nails dig into his knees the moment the tube makes contact, the glue seeping into the wound, forcing himself not to move or react to the pain of you pinching his skin together to help the adhesive do its job.

When you’re done, applying a gauze pad over the adhesive stitches to keep them safe, his eyes follow you as you put everything away, throwing away your gloves and washing your hands. You don’t spare him a glance as you walk out of the bathroom, turning the light off and leaving him in the dark. He stays seated for a moment, trying to figure out how to fix this until he hears a door close.

He heads to your shared bedroom, only to find the door closed and locked, two pillows and a blanket sitting in a pile on the floor. He leans his pained forehead against the door in defeat, sighing.

“Y/n. Let me in, please?”

Silence.

“I’m sorry, baby. I know I need to end this. And I will. There’s just one more and if I win, we’ll have enough for us, for the wedding, and for our future.”

He thinks he hears a faint sob on the other side of the door and has half a mind to kick the door down to be with you. But he can’t. You have every right to be mad, every right to be hurt and to cry and to lock him out.

He grabs the pillows and blanket and heads for the couch.

The next morning, Wonwoo wakes to the sound of your medical kit being placed on the coffee table. You silently wait for him to sit up, quickly brushing his hand away when he goes to rub his eyes. You turn around, grabbing the required materials to clean up his wounds again.

His hand subconsciously grabs your thigh when you wipe an alcohol wipe across the laceration in his eyebrow. He feels the way your hands still, your body turning into a statue at the contact.

You push through, finishing it up and turning back to your bag, pulling out the things needed for a week of taking care of his wounds.

“You only need to keep the gauze over the stitches for a day or two. It’s the glue kind of stitches so there won’t be anything to remove, just keep it closed or you’ll have to go to urgent care to have them fix it. The rest are all superficial. Just don’t touch them and they should be fine.”

You speak at such a rapid pace, but still manage to sound professional like you do with your patients. But it’s nothing in comparison to how fast Wonwoo’s mind is racing.

“Y/n…?”

“I’ll leave some extra gauze, polysporin, as well as just regular bacitracin. The ice packs are all in the freezer if you feel any soreness. Drink water and electrolytes and you’ll be fine. Your backup pair of glasses are on the kitchen counter.” Your voice fails you and you try to hide the sniffle it causes.

“Fuck, I’m going to be late.” You murmur, grabbing your medical bag and heading to the front door where you have two suitcases. How did he not hear them being brought down?

“Y/n, where are you going?” He slowly moves off the couch as you stuff the bag into the suitcase.

“Ari’s for now. She can only let me stay a few days, though. I’ll figure the next place out when I get there.”

“Why?” His voice cracks and you finally turn to look at him.

“Because I give up.” You shrug, voice breaking at the admission. “I can’t do this anymore. I can’t live this life with you if this is how you’re going to be, Wonwoo.”

All at once, he feels his world crashing around him.

“Baby, please. Don’t…don’t go. Just sit down and we can discuss this.”

“There’s nothing to discuss, Woo. You’re going to stay in that silly biker gang. You’re going to keep going to that bar. You’re going to keep going to that back room. You’re going to keep fighting and coming home battered and bruised with broken promises of stopping and living a better life.”

“I…I’m serious this time, though. It’s just one more fight next month and we’ll be set.”

“We’re already ‘set’! We’re more than set, Wonwoo! I don’t need designer clothing, a nice house, fancy car, or jewelry. I don’t need any of it! You are literally the only thing I need and you can’t give me that while fighting.”

You take a few steps toward him, your fingers playing with the engagement ring that he had to win three fights to be able to afford.

“I love you so much, I’m sorry.” Your voice is broken, you’re crying and he can’t do anything about it as you take his hand in yours, setting the engagement ring in his palm and letting go. You say nothing more as you drag your suitcases out the front door, refusing to look back at him.

Time stops as he sits there, the faint sounds of you getting in a car and driving away in the background as he tries to process.

You left.

You left him.

You gave him the ring back.

The pain from the wounds on his face doesn’t even come close in comparison to the way his heart shatters when he looks at the ring in his hand.

He pockets the ring in his wallet, downing his drink in one go and slamming it down on the counter, almost crushing it.

It’s been a month since you walked out. A month since he last spoke to you. A month since he heard your beautiful voice. You were gone. No longer his and he no longer was yours.

However, you never came by to get your stuff, never sent someone else to do it either. A month and you haven’t set foot in the house you shared with him. Half of that stuff is rightfully yours, so there had to be a reason for you to not come back for it, right?

There has to be.

“Wonwoo? You ready?”

He takes a deep breath, trying to steady his shaking hands before he turns to his best friend, Changkyun.

“Yeah. I just need to put my contacts in. How much time do I have?”

“Eh. You know there’s no real start time. But we’ll say like forty-five minutes? Take your time. Get focused. Seungcheol doesn’t give up easily. He’ll kill you if it’s an option.” Changkyun laughs, but Wonwoo knows his friend is serious. He’s seen the way Seungcheol fights. It’s brutal and one guy he fought was put into a coma and has been for the past eight months.

“‘Kay. I’ll be ready soon.” Wonwoo slowly gets up, walking past his best friend and towards the bathroom. He takes half a second to look around the bar. It’s become a habit the past month he’s been hiding here. Hoping and praying you’ll walk through those grimey doors. But you never did. You never will.

Except he swears he sees you sitting in the back corner with Changkyun’s girlfriend. But before he can confirm if it’s you or not, one of the newer members with the nickname Dino, is drunkenly yelling his name and wishing him good luck. By the time Seungkwan ushers him away, you’re no longer in the back corner. You’re nowhere. Just another illusion there to haunt him.

After spending a good amount of time in the dimly lit bathroom, the blue light flickering in and out. He removes his glasses and puts in his contacts that he hates wearing, he sets his jacket down on the counter, glasses sitting to the side and tucking all his important shit in the pockets, including the wallet with your ring.

Your ring.

“Fuck, why am I still doing this?” He silently questions himself, fist slamming down on the counter in anger. He looks up at his reflection in the mirror and he’s sick of himself immediately. What he’d give to punch himself in the face for driving you to leave him.

The thought to punch the mirror quickly appears and disappears in his mind when there’s a quiet knock on the door.

“I’ll be out in a minute, Changkyun. Just— I need a moment.” He states, trying to mentally prepare himself for this last fight. The knocks return, but louder.

“I said I’ll be out soon!” He shouts, trying to resist the urge to open the door and punch his best friend just for annoying him. He heavily considers it when suddenly the door opens and he feels like he has been punched in the face.

It’s you.

You’re right there.

In that fucking dress he bought you after one of his first wins.

You’re really there.

“Y/n? What…? What are you doing here?”

“I needed to talk to you.” You state calmly, fingers fidgeting with the fabric of your dress.

Did you cut your hair? Color it? It looks nice. He wants to tell you how gorgeous it is. How gorgeous you are.

God, he wants to crush you in a hug, keep your lips against his until either of you can’t breathe, have his hands everywhere on your skin and cause goosebumps. He wants to be close to you, but the growing fear that you’ll run away from him again is too much.

“You love me, right?” You ask quietly, staring at the disgusting ground. You already sound like you’re about to cry and it’s making coming closer to you even more difficult for Wonwoo.

“More than anything.” He breathes out quickly.

“More than fighting?” Your brows knit together as you slowly start to look up. “More than the money and the ‘better life’ you seem to think I need? More than your gang or your bike?” Your eyes find his gaze at the mention of his bike and he wants to scream at the world for the tears building up behind your beautiful eyes.

“Of course, more than any of that, baby. I’d give it all up for you.” He takes a small step forward and you take one back, closer to the door.

“Yet here you are, a month after I walk out, ready to fight someone Changkyun says is actually dangerous and requesting my medical assistance.”

“You’ve been talking to Changkyun?” He’s been talking to you? And Changkyun didn’t tell him he was in contact with you? All while, spending hours at the bar with him drinking himself to sleep, wondering where you were and if you were okay.

Did he tell you about him? About how much he missed you? How it felt like his soul had died without you?

“Of course I’ve been talking to him! I needed to make sure you were okay.”

His mouth opens, but he can’t speak because you’re speaking again.

“We’re supposed to get married, Wonwoo. And live a life together. Have a family some day, get a cat or something, go out and come home early because we’d rather be together than out there socializing.” Your voice falters with a small laugh, the tears silently falling.

“But I can’t marry someone who’s risking their life every night, not just with the fights, but driving a motorcycle without glasses or contacts. I can’t marry someone who causes me to be in a constant state of anxiety every time you leave the house.”

“I’ll get rid of the bike. I’ll leave the gang. Whatever it is, I’ll do it.” He steps towards you again, and you take another step back, back meeting the door.

“I don’t care about the bike, Woo!” You finally yell, throwing your hands up in frustration. “I don’t care about the gang. I don’t even care about the bar! I care about you and your safety and how little you care about it.” You pause to take a breath, hands shaking as you try to reform your thoughts.

Wonwoo’s heart cracks at the sight. He takes two steps back, giving you the space he knows you need. He wants to say something, anything, to make the tears stop falling, but you’re right and he couldn’t defend himself if he tried.

“Do you know how many people I’ve seen come into my emergency room half beaten to death? Do you know how many I’ve seen die from those injuries? Or put into induced comas because the brain injuries are so severe? I don’t want to be there one day and have them roll you in on a cart half alive. My heart would break if I did. I mean, fuck, I wanted to fall apart when you got in that hit and run and brought in.”

He looks down to the floor, memories of how upset you were when you came into the emergency room and found him lying in a bed. With a broken leg and scratches everywhere from being dragged down the road by his bike.

He kept reassuring you it was never going to happen again, as if he could predict the future, but you were still upset and pushed him to sell the bike that was trashed and get a car.

He ended up buying a better bike and you barely reacted when he brought it home. He promised to be safer and fucked you senseless after.

“I… what do you want me to do?” He hesitantly asks, “Do you want me to back out of the fight?” You scoff, crossing your arms.

“We both know you can’t do that. Joon would have your head on a spike if you lost him all that money.” You close your eyes, stepping forward and away from the door. “I want you to do two things for me. Win and never fight again. Keep the bike, hang out in the dirty bar with your friends, drink all you want. But never go in that back room again.”

Your eyes lock onto his and he feels smaller in comparison to you. Your hands reach out for his as you step closer and his gaze falls to the contact.

“I promi—”

“No.” Your hands tighten around his, “your promises mean nothing now. You’ve promised me hundreds of times. Don’t use your words, prove it with your actions.”

He doesn’t hesitate when he pushes forward, pressing you back against the wall as his lips crush into yours. His tongue easily slides past your lips when your mouth parts in shock.

Your arms snake their way around his shoulders and his hands drop to your thighs, lifting you up to wrap them around his waist, pressing you further into the door.

“I’ll do it. I’ll win for you, and I’ll never step foot back there again.” His lips leave yours, quickly finding their way down the space between your neck and shoulder. “I’ll do anything if it means never having to go a month without you again. I miss you so fucking much, y/n.”

You respond with a whimper, hands tangled in his hair as he feels your hips try to roll forward. Wonwoo pins your hips down, stopping them from moving and rolls his hips instead, eliciting another whine from you.

“Woo, baby, please.”

His lips make their way up to just under your ear when he whispers, “what is it, baby? Please what?”

“I need you.”

“Yeah?”

“Missed you. So much. Want you.”

He pulls away from your skin to look at you.

“You have me. Always and forever. Just you and me.” He places a small kiss on your forehead, a small grin forming, “and maybe a small kitten. We can name it Snuggles.”

“I like that.” You sniffle, the tears pooling in your eyes again. “But I need more right now, Woo. Please.”

“I got you, baby.” He kisses your lips once more, standing you back up momentarily to pull his jeans down to his ankles, cock springing free from his underwear. You reach down and give his cock one stroke before his fingers wrap around your wrist, placing it by your head, grinning at your pout.

“We don’t have time.” He chuckles when you’re about to complain, kissing your pout away as he wraps one of your legs around his waist. Your free hand reaches down to pull your underwear to the side while his free hand lines himself up before slowly pressing past your folds.

“So fucking tight.” Wonwoo rasps, watching his cock slowly disappear as he sinks you down on him, grabbing your other leg to wrap around his waist as well. Your ankles lock together and he grunts at the feeling of your heels poking his skin.

Wonwoo shudders when he’s fully inside, cock twitching every time you involuntarily clench around him after almost every breath you take.

His hand sneaks down between you two, his thumb finding your clit and rubbing small and slow circles, watching your face contort into that of pure pleasure.

“My girl. My beautiful baby.” The praise and pet names quietly fly past his lips as he leans forward, lips latching onto your neck, “gonna marry you and make you so damn happy. Gonna love you every fucking day and night.” You don’t respond with anything but whimpers and whines, your hands tangling back into his hair and pulling him up to kiss him.

Everything about this is sloppy and heated and neither of you can last more than a few moments as you’re both coming undone around the same time, his hips stuttering you further into the door as he fills you up.

He keeps you against the door for a minute, but before you can ask to be put down, he’s bringing you to the counter, laying his jacket out enough for you to sit on so you can avoid the grossness of the dirty bathroom. He grabs some paper towels and cleans himself up, bringing his underwear and jeans back.

He catches you just in time when you’re readjusting your underwear, moving to stand up to fix your dress. He stops you, placing his hands on both of your knees, keeping them spread apart.

“Hold on.” He whispers, getting on his knees and scooting you closer to the edge, “let me clean you up.”

“Woo…” you try to speak but he picks that as the perfect moment and licks up between your folds, collecting what he can of both his and your orgasms. His lips latch onto your clit, switching between sucking harshly and softly blowing on it. He can feel how close you are, his actions a little more chaotic until there’s a hard banging on the bathroom door.

“Wonwoo! I know I said there’s no time on this, but there’s a fucking time on it. Let’s go.”

“Two minutes, Changkyun!” Wonwoo snaps back, anger quickly taking over his voice.

“You have one minute before I come in there. Whatever you’re doing with y/n, make it fast.”

You look down at Wonwoo in horror, but that just eggs him on, “you heard the man, baby. I’ve got one minute.”

Your eyes widen at the evil smile he gives you before diving back in. Only this time, he doesn’t hold back; licking, sucking, fucking you with his tongue until your hips are bucking upwards and you’re trying desperately not to scream his name out as you come.

You have to push his face away from your center, much to his dismay, before he causes a third orgasm. He fixes your underwear, helping you stand up as his lips find yours again, hands adjusting your dress. He reaches behind you, grabbing his jacket and opening it for you to slip your arms into.

He pulls away from you, eyes locking on yours as his hand dips into a pocket, grabbing his wallet and pulling the ring out, dropping the wallet back in the pocket.

The ring fidgets in his fingers as he looks down at it before glancing back at you.

“…I give up the fighting, the money, the lack of caring about my safety. I’ll be better, I’ll do better. As long as it means this ring stays on your finger forever.”

The tears form in your eyes again as you slowly reach for the ring, delicately taking it from his fingers. You slowly put it back where it belongs on your ring finger, Wonwoo letting out a dramatically heavy breath that he didn’t think he was holding.

“Deal.” You whisper quietly, pulling him back down for a kiss that’s perfectly interrupted by the door opening.

“I gave you three minutes. Let’s go. Sorry, y/n.” Changkyun shares a look with you that Wonwoo can’t quite read, choosing to ignore it as he reaches for his glasses on the counter, placing them in your hand.

“I’ll win.” He whispers, kissing your forehead and walking out after his best friend, your ring wearing hand in back in his.

The fight is, as expected, brutal and bloody. Seungcheol never holds back, throwing punch after punch like it was his only goal in life to beat Wonwoo down to a pulp the moment the two of you stepped into the back room. Seungcheol gave you both one glance, chuckled, and looked away before the fight began.

Wonwoo was able to dodge a good amount of the punches, but the ones that did land sent him straight to the ground, trying his best to stay conscious.

He can feel the blood dripping down his face from a cut between his eyebrows. His nose feels broken. He's pretty sure his leg is bruised from Seungcheol kicking him down and kicking harder when he’s not responding.

“Get up.” Seungcheol grumbles, circling Wonwoo, “unless you want your girl to watch you get pummeled.” He shrugs, a smug grin across his face as Wonwoo lifts himself onto his hand and knees.

“I don’t mind. Maybe she can tend to my wounds after.” He smirks, watching Wonwoo try to steady himself as he stands up. “She can kiss them better. That what she do with you?”

Wonwoo’s eyes dart to you, in the corner or the room, holding Changkyun’s girlfriend’s hand tight. Your eyes are wide and you’re trying not to react to anything happening, trying to stay neutral in case either of you needs immediate attention. You can’t hear the salacious slander Seungcheol is taunting Wonwoo with, and for that, he’s thankful.

Seungcheol speaks again, but Wonwoo doesn’t bother listening, instead bringing his fist back briefly before punching Seungcheol in the jaw, sending him backwards.

He wastes no time taking advantage of Seungcheol being even slightly disoriented, knocking him to the ground and punching one after the other. It takes you shouting his name to pull him out of his mind and stop punching the man beneath him. He sits back on his feet, mindlessly watching as Changkyun checks on Seungcheol before Wonwoo is declared the winner.

He’s shoved aside by his best friend as you’re brought to the losing participant, checking his wounds and determining what needs to be done, instructing Changkyun how to do it before turning around and doing the same with Wonwoo.

“Anything feel broken?” You whisper, cradling his face in your hands, analyzing the injuries. He tries not to wince as you gently move his head side to side. The nitrile gloves feeling oddly cool against his sweaty skin. “Tilt your head up for me, baby.” He obeys your murmur, teeth gritting as he does so. His eyes find your sad ones and he finally understands it.

“I won.” He whispers, a battered hand reaching to wrap around the back of your neck, pressing your forehead to his. “Never again.”

You nod, flashing a soft smile as you pull away from him, letting go of his head, checking his hands quickly before grabbing a towel and covering his knuckles. “We should go home. I can treat you better there.”

You stand him up slowly, your name being called by Changkyun as he has someone else sitting Seungcheol up, wiping up any blood. You turn just in time to catch the keys being thrown at you.

“Here. I’ll take Wonwoo’s bike. Take the car.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. Don’t let him get on that bike like that.”

Wonwoo doesn’t miss the smile that appears on your face as you nod. You’re not the only one that cares about his safety.

After you say your thanks, you help Wonwoo into the passenger seat of the car and get in the driver’s seat, taking him home.

“I mean it.” His raspy voice pierces the silence in the car after a moment, “No more fighting. No more riding without my glasses. I’ll take better care…I’ll be better…for both of us.” He unwraps his hand from the towel, wincing slightly, and moves his hand over to your thigh, giving a gentle squeeze.

“Good. Because I’ll throw an actual fit if I walk down the aisle to you in a tux with fresh cuts and bruises all over your face.”

“I think you’d kick my ass.” He jokes, but you just smirk.

“Baby, I’m medically trained and have been taking self-defense classes for years. I know how to stop the blood flow to your brain and stop you from breathing with one hit. Don’t fuck with me.”

“I love the image of you in a wedding dress just beating people up.”

“Don’t compare me to the bride in Kill Bill, Woo. Please.” You groan and he laughs.

“It’s hot. That’s all I’m saying.”

“You’re lucky I love you.”

There’s a long pause before Wonwoo finally speaks again.

“That I am…”

496 notes · View notes

wonwoosthetic · 2 months

Note

Finding something to fight for update coming back anytime soon…? Love this story 💜

a/n: i looooove writing for this series so so so much, thank you for enjoying it so far!! Here I have part 2 of how the reader and Joel met! Yes, there’s not much romance going on (just yet! the next part will be about their first few dates) but a lot have asked for a part 2 and since Joel is a single father who was left by his wife, I can imagine love for a random woman wouldn’t come easy to him ˙ᵕ˙ I still hope you and everyone reading this will enjoy and stay tuned for future chapters! Thank you for reading and thank you for sticking around to see more of their story unfold!🫶🏼

Btw: I changed the name of the series, I hope people won’t be too confused! <3

You’re Lonely. I Can Fix That. Pt. 2

pairing – Joel Miller x female!reader; Tommy Miller x female!reader (platonic!)

word count – 16.2k (don’t even get me started, this is starting to feel like a slow-burn😭)

warnings – fighting, tiniest bit of cursing, bad writing of southern accents (somebody pls teach me)

synopsis – part 2 of this request; slowly but we’re getting there ˙ᵕ˙ the reader and Joel are getting closer🤭

series masterlist

1999

You did, in fact, not find a way to contact him. At least none that wouldn't require you to jump over your shadow and contact Tommy Miller first.

Every afternoon you had to spend in your parents' restaurant mostly consisted of you standing by the counter, and your head shooting up at the sound of the door opening. None of those times had it been either one of the Miller brothers - but each time you had hoped it would be. Praying and pleading that the universe had some last specks of luck left for you. But it seemed like destiny was not on your side at that time. Or maybe it was. How could you possibly know if he was as good as he pretended to be? Maybe the kindness Joel had shown you was just his way of holding up a normal conversation with no ulterior motives after all. Asking you about your future plans and dreams, telling you about his daughter, and driving you home seemed to be just the naturally kind gestures of a Southern gentleman... Or maybe it was just an act and in reality, whoever was up there was saving you from a big mistake before it could even happen.

'I think that if he was a real gentleman and if the looks he gave you were real, he'll find a way to contact you.'

Maria's words were once again haunting you. Even with your hopes already slowly vanishing in ever seeing the oldest Miller again. He was a gentleman, no doubt. He had to be... right? There was almost no possible way he had put on a mask before entering that bar. But...

You shook your head. Your best friend might be a good people reader, but she's also well-known for her delusions. It was fun and made life much more exciting, that you had to agree with. Having a campus crush and calling him 'your man' when all he did was thank you and call the essay you wrote a 'great piece of work', was how you kept life interesting. It was easy entertainment. Normally, it was all fun and games, something you could tease each other with, but this was different. Because with Joel, you noticed it too. You may not have noticed the 'looks he gave you', but what man would just 'like to make sure you got home safe'? Or maybe you were potentially just looking too much into it. Maybe Maria had already infected you with her delusions.

'It's a small town, it can't be that hard.'

Well... it seemed to be very hard because it had already been close to a month. And neither of you had found a way or were interested enough to look for one. At some point, you had to get the fantasy of Joel Miller you had made up in your mind out of your head. There was no way a man could possibly occupy such a big part of your brain and control how you'd act at work.

There was only one man in the past who had the same kind of grip on you as Joel Miller now had. And that guy broke your heart when he admitted to cheating on you and getting Chlamydia from the college girl he fucked. Fun times...

Other than that, the topic of boyfriends hadn't ever been more than just plain and simple entertainment for you. You didn't use them. And you never would, because, after all, you were a lover girl at heart. But they just didn't make you nervous. Usually.

You could vividly recall each and every time you managed to make a man bring you to his house and let you spend the night, just as much as the number of times you barked at them to leave you alone in a club. Yes, they were big and scary men, but you were a woman raised by an older sister who inherited the generational trauma from your mother and anger issues from your father. If you didn't want them near you, you wouldn't let them.

Crushes came and went, and the ones that stayed, you were usually able to turn into something as serious as a few fun nights or even take it a little further and turn them into the two relationships you have had in the past. But that was it. 'Chlamydia boy', as Maria had baptized him, was the last one you had let occupy your mind as much as he did.

That was until Joel goddamn Miller, in his 6ft, wide shoulders, itty bitty waist, rough hands, curly hair, shaggy beard, and grungy voice glory, just had to walk into that bar. Now you were daydreaming about a 30-year-old construction worker and single father all while he was probably just enjoying the evenings off-duty he got to spend with his daughter, looking forward to the next parent-teacher conference where the other mothers would be gawking at him and drooling while following him around like lost puppies.

That's how you found yourself. A birthday and a whole month later, in your family's restaurant just like almost every afternoon. You had finished another small exam and were finally able to enjoy the first rays of sunshine that were peeking through the clouds during the colder winter months on the way to work. But even the big windows couldn't even to some extent let you feel the freedom and fresh air from the outside. Sometimes you wondered if you should at some point regret coming back to Texas to help your family.

Back then, you had been ecstatic about the mere thought of moving away, seeing more than what that small town you grew up in had to offer. That's why you decided to study out of state. You started building your life out there. A new life. But one call from your mother, asking you to come back was all it took. You couldn't tell her simply 'no'. Not when she was explaining that your father, due to his age, was advised not to work normal shifts on his legs anymore as they were slowly giving up on him. So, you listened to her. You packed your bags and came back. You found a place of your own and a roommate to share it with. You were accepted into the college you so desperately tried to avoid during the application process back in high school and continued your studies only 30 minutes away from the house you grew up in and the garden you used to play in.

You weren't allowed to regret your decision. Not if it meant helping your parents keep the restaurant alive they had worked their entire life for.

"Where's my daughter?" The frantic voice of your mother made you sigh out loud as you made sure to fix the name tag on the right side of your shirt. "Is she here already?" Her quick footsteps echoed through the kitchen until they stopped in the doorway of the small staffroom.

"I'm here, Mom," you answered her with the slightest hint of annoyance. The simple sound of her stressed-out sound and heavy breathing could get your blood pumping in an instant. She has always been a stressed person - making situations much more hectic than needed.

A heavy huff fell from her lips. "Y'are late," she simply stated.

With a roll of your eyes, you passed her, putting your hair up in a ponytail just like you usually would. "I'm not late, I had an exam. I told you that."

"I guess, I forgot... 'bout that...," she thought out loud. "Anyways," she was quick to change the subject, hot on your tracks, following you up to the counter overlooking the somewhat empty tables. You only could sigh again. "I'll have to leave earlier today. I need to go to the pharmacy before it closes. The doctor gave ya dad a new prescription," she explained. Another new one... was there ever going to not be another medication this man would be put on? The medical bills were already piling up - you remembered the stack of letters addressed to your father you had seen just the day before when you came over for the usual Sunday family dinner.

"Y'are okay with closing? Jimmy might stay with ya if I ask him." Jimmy, the head chef of the kitchen behind you and a long-family friend. He was in his fifties and had a wife and three kids waiting at home for him each night.

You shook your head, "No, it's fine. I... I think I can clean up by myself, but thanks," sending her a tight smile that got a big grin out of her.

"Great!" She grabbed your shoulders, giving them a quick squeeze. "I'll leave in a bit, alrigh'?" You nodded as an answer, your eyes already on the notes for the day your mother had put on the counter, out of eyesight from customers. And with that, you got to work.

Mondays weren't all that busy, usually. The construction workers from around the area would come in and order their usual big servings that had been keeping the family business going. Some teenagers spent their lunch break by the tables, working on their homework and having a quick meal. Just like every other day.

With a sigh, you pushed through the swinging door, separating the kitchen from the counter area of the restaurant. Three plates filled with the extra portions some of the construction workers asked for balances on your hands and left arm. In moments like this, you were thankful for the low number of customers. You rushed over to bring them their food in a respectful time, getting a round of charming 'thank you's in return, to which you nodded politely.

Just as you were about to get back behind the counter, hoping to find the next thing to focus on until new customers would come in, your eyes found a familiar face, sitting in a booth all by themselves. You smiled to yourself, watching the little kid's head buried in the book in front of them as they frantically continued to write something down with their right hand.

It was the Parker's son, Miles. A young, very bright boy, who was way too mature for his age of only 10. The first time you had seen him in your parent's restaurant, you thought somebody had forgotten him. But no, he just enjoyed the background noises of the diner in the background while doing his schoolwork. He usually showed up a few times a week, would take a seat quietly and not ask for anything unless a waiter or waitress came over to him first.

As you began working part-time, you took on the responsibility of being that exact person. You'd approach him and ask him for his order, adding a free hot chocolate or lemonade to whatever he desired - you paid for it out of your own pocket by the end of the day.

"Well hello, young man," you walked up to the boy with a soft smile on your face. The sound of your voice made him look up, pushing his glasses back up higher on the bridge of his nose.

"Hi, Y/N," he grinned at you shyly. It was only then you realised how much you had missed his rosy cheeks.

"I haven't seen you in so long. I got worried already," you admitted. It was the truth. You hadn't seen him in a good three weeks, which was very much out of the ordinary. In a small town, you would've expected to hear rumours and chatter about every family, but the Parkers seemed like a mystery to most apparently.

Miles shrugged, his eyes back down to his book. "I'm okay."

The tone of his voice told you otherwise. He wasn't a very expressive kid, to begin with, so the change in his tone stood out.

"Are you sure?" You quietly sat down on the opposite side of the booth. You were in no position to interrogate him, and neither were you the best with children - at least that's what you thought. But you were a good advice giver and could read a room usually pretty well.

It took a few seconds of silence before he spoke up again. "Mommy and Daddy are getting a divorce."

Oh.

The instability of his family was no secret - your mother had caught you up with everything going on behind their closed doors as she and Miles' grandmother were part of the Saturdays' flea market in town. And that woman had no filter when it came to the 'monster of a husband her daughter had married'.

"I see," you nodded gently. "And... you're okay with that?" It was a stupid question, yes, but how else were you supposed to not just let him sit in misery, the thoughts of his parent's divorce occupying way too much of this little kid's mind.

"I think so, yes." Miles looked at the side of the table, his pencil gliding over a crack in the wood, "Grammy said it's good. And Mommy has been crying less. So... I think I'm happy."

Your heart shattered just hearing his words. No child should ever have to go through something like that.

"Daddy said I'm not allowed to come here anymore." You glanced at him with a slight scrunch in your eyebrows. "But now I live with Mommy and Grammy, and they don't really care where I am after school, so I came back," he sent you an innocent bright smile. His bright face almost sent tears to your eyes.

"They do care where you are Miles," you tried to explain to him, not even knowing if it was the truth, but why should a child even dare to think that the authority figures in his life didn't 'care' about him. "They just... they probably know how happy you are whenever you're here. That's why they let you come over."

You noticed as he tried to avoid your eyes, glancing out the window as he spoke, "But I'm only happy when you're here too," he admitted.

Pressing your lips into a tight line, you took a deep breath, about to give him an answer back, wanting to let him know how much brighter your day got whenever you got to see him, but he beat you to it.

"That's Sarah Miller," his finger was pressed up against the glass. "With her dad." Unfazed, he turned his attention back to his notes. "His name's Joel."

"What?" You accidentally muttered out, your head snapping to the window. The black pick-up truck came right into view. The one he brought you home in. Your eyes followed his every move as he opened one of the back doors, helping his daughter out of the car. He held out a hand for her to take, but she ignored it and jumped with a big smile. A whole goddamn month it took for you to finally see his face again. 30 days, if not more. Just as you had been on the verge of forgetting about your encounter with the oldest Miller brother, he suddenly decided to show up. At your family's restaurant out of all places.

Frozen in place, you couldn't help but stare, forgetting about the fact that a window worked both ways. You got lucky as he seemed to not have seen you, passing by and walking over to the front door while Sarah was skipping around the parking space in excitement. The pounding heart in your chest made you gulp.

"How do you know them?" You suddenly asked.

Miles continued to write in his notebook. "Sarah's in my class. She's nice."

"And-"

"I told her about this restaurant. Told her I like you and the food. And the free drink you always bring me," he sent you a quick grin, making you chuckle. The smile vanished quickly though as the sound of the bell above the entrance door rang through the room. To everyone else, it was just another customer coming in, but to you, it was the desperate crush on a 30-year-old man, who had no business occupying your mind as much as he did. There was no time to continue your daydream of finally seeing him again as he and his little one walked further into the restaurant, looking around to see which empty table they'd claim. Joel proposed the one in the corner right next to the door, which Sarah seemed to be okay with after taking another quick glance around the open space. They'd be waiting for someone to come and take their order. And that someone should be you. It had to be you. There was no other waiter on shift for this afternoon.

"I'll be right back," you quickly excused yourself, making Miles glimpse at you in slight confusion at your rushed tone, but the notebook in front of him was much more interesting anyway.

With a few deep breaths, you strutted across the floor, brushing over the apron covering the front of your thighs. You passed the register area to snatch the small notepad you used during your shift before finally making your way over to the duo.

Just before you were close enough to their table to stop, you heard the girl's faint voice mumble, "He said he'd be here." Her head turned upwards to grin at you as soon as you came to a halt, pen and paper in your grip.

"Hey, what can I get for you, guys?" You clicked the back of the bullet point pen.

Joel snapped his head up, his brown eyes staring at you as soon as your voice registered in his head. His lips parted, stopping for a second before he spoke up.

"O-Oh- hey," he sat up straighter.

"Hi," you smiled at him, slapping yourself internally at greeting him a second time when you literally just did that.

"Hey," he nodded, his lips curling up just a bit. "Y/N... right?"

While the name Joel Miller had branded itself onto your brain, he seemed to not even be sure about your first.

You nodded with a tight smile that was close to disappearing, but you had to keep a professional face on, "Yeah- yeah, Y/N," and pointed to yourself like an idiot. His eyes didn't leave your face, almost dragging you in, but you were quick to snap back, the sound of someone clearing the throat to your left catching you off-guard.

"Introduce me, Dad," Sarah tried to whisper, holding her hand to the wrong side of her mouth, where you could still clearly see her lips moving.

"Hm?" Joel's head turned towards her, "Oh- that's... that's Sarah. My daughter."

With a wide grin, the girl reached her hand out to you, which you gladly accepted, shaking it with a similar facial expression.

"Nice to meet you, Sarah."

"It's very nice to meet you too, Y/N." Once she dropped your hand again, her gaze quickly flicked over to her dad, who politely coughed into his elbow. "Do you know my, Dad?" She suddenly wondered.

"I- ehm...," you were quick to open your mouth before you could even come up with a full reply, wanting to kick yourself in the shin.

Thankfully, Joel decided to answer her, "She's a friend of Uncle Tommy."

Sarah gasped, her eyes widening, "You know Uncle Tommy too?" She gazed up at you in amazement, making you chuckle. Calling you a 'friend' was much easier than explaining your relationship with him to a 9-year-old, so you accepted it.

You nodded, "I do. I met him a long time ago." Not a lie.

"Cool," she said out loud, looking down at her intertwined fingers on top of the table. "What do you-"

"Babygirl, you wanted to eat, didn't you?"

The voice of her dad made her lift her head to grin at him, "Can I get pancakes?"

Joel put the menu he was holding down with a soft sigh, but a kind curl to his lips, "You can ask Y/N if you want to."

Quickly, she whipped her head towards you, "Can I have pancakes, please?"

You couldn't hold back a subtle chuckle. "Of course." The fact that pancakes were on your breakfast menu was unimportant. If the girl wanted pancakes, you'd get her her pancakes, even if it was close to 5pm. "And for you?" You turned to the man on your right.

"Can I get a simple turkey sandwich? And a black coffee?"

You nodded, writing down just quick abbreviations to remember their order. "Coffee's free here," you added.

"Oh, great," he commented, putting his hands down on the table, "That's all then."

"Alright, I'll be right back."

"Thank you," Joel gave you a nod and a grin, his attention back to his little girl as soon as you turned around and heard her whisper.

"Why do you know so many people?" Making you chuckle.

In the kitchen, you handed over their orders to Jimmy, who glanced at you with a frown, re-reading your handwriting on the piece of paper.

"Pancakes? At 5?"

"Can you do that? It's for a little girl, she's really sweet."

With a wink, he moved over to the stove, "'Course I can, no worries."

You grinned, "Thanks, Jimmy."

Getting a, "No worries, kid," in return.

Just as you were about to leave, you made a stop at the fridge, opening it to get the glass jug of homemade lemonade. Along with three clean glasses from the cabinets right above your head. You filled them up equally before putting the lemonade back and heading out to the counter again, balancing all three on a tray. You didn't expect the man standing right across from you, making you stop in your tracks.

"Hey," Joel smiled at.

"Hi," you copied him. Again, feeling the need to slap yourself. How many times have you now said these two words in exchange to each other?

"I...," he started, looking around the empty bar area. His hands glided into the back pockets of his jeans before he locked eyes with you again. "I'm sorry, I... Sarah- she forgot to order a drink. Is it okay if I- can I do that here?"

"Yeah," you nodded your head frantically, putting down the tray, as your eyes landed on the filled-up glasses. "I- I was actually just about to bring two of these over to you guys." Taking them into your grip and lifting them to his eyesight.

"Oh- did she-"

"They're like a... signature thing here. I thought you'd... might want something to drink." You placed them down on the bar top, "On the house."

"Oh no, I can't let-" he started, but you were already shaking your head.

"No worries. A little welcome gift," you brushed him off, your fingers slowly digging into the wood below you.

Slightly hesitant, Joel reached out for the two lemonades.

"Gotta keep the customers coming back somehow," you added with a soft chuckle, getting a humourous laugh from him in return.

"Yeah... well..." he turned back to take a quick glance at his daughter before looking back at you, "we might be coming back more often anyways. Sarah got a recommendation from a classmate... and she's been really beggin' me to take her here. And we were in the area, so..."

"Miles, yeah... he- he told me," you nodded along with his storytelling, fidgeting with the dainty bracelet on your wrist - an older Christmas gift from your sister.

Joel raised his eyebrows in interest, "You know him?"

"Yeah," you nudged your head over to the left side of the diner, with the boy in the only occupied booth, "He's sitting over there."

"Aah...," he took a deep breath in, "Gotta make sure to tell Sarah," he mumbled slightly more to himself, but you were still able to catch it.

"Are they friends?"

Joel slightly shrugged his shoulder, "I guess so, yeah... they're both in an advanced Math course for middle schoolers, so... yeah."

"Advanced Math?" You wondered in astonishment. He hadn't told you all too much about her back in the car a few weeks ago, so this was news to you. You knew Miles was in that course, Christ, he had proven it to you many times before whenever you asked if he needed help with his homework, but you didn't know Joel's daughter went the same path. "A little genius."

"Yeah," the older Miller brother chuckled, looking down at his feet, "Kinda like you," he met your eyes. "I mean- not like you... really... because, you know, not... College level, but... she- she's interested in it too. But I- I guess... I don't know if she's really interested in it, but she seems to enjoy it so far, so..."

If your eyes and ears weren't playing with you, you could almost hear a slight added raspiness to his voice as he tried to avoid your gaze, talking on and on about his daughter. The grin making its way onto your lips was only an indication of your amusement at his rambling.

"I understand," you laughed. "Smart girl."

He nodded gently to himself, "That she is... she sure is..."

Your awkward chuckle was followed by a second of silence. Maybe a few seconds, actually. Joel could've excused himself to go back to the booth they chose, but he didn't even move an inch. Not even made an indication that he wanted to leave. Your eyes travelled around the counter, trying to look for something to busy yourself with, but there were no notes left, every other customer (there weren't a lot) seemed to be happy, so there was nowhere to go for you. You were stuck to stand still across from him, forced to bring the conversation to a halt as neither one of you knew what to possibly say next. Not until you went through each line that had spilled from his lips, remembering-

"You said you were in the area? Do you live here... or...?" What a smart move. Ask the stranger if he lived close to where you're working, fucking creep.

Joel cleared his throat, politely holding up a fist to his lips. "No no, she- Sarah... she has soccer practice every Monday 'round here."

"Oh," your eyes lit up, "At the old Ramson's field?" The corners of the man's lips curled up at the mention of the area that was once a strawberry farm. It was sold years ago by an elderly couple, the Ramsoms, to give the kids a place to run around freely. Somebody took the chance and turned it into a local soccer team's training ground.

"Yeah, exactly that. You know it?"

You nodded excitedly, "My sister used to go there. She was really active. Always the sporty one in the family, you know..."

For a second, Joel pursed his lips, smiling to himself before he answered. "So... sister's the sporty one and you're the smart one? Your parents got lucky."

"Well...," you talked down his compliment with a soft chuckle, "I don't know if I'd say I'm the smart one...," thinking about your next words for not longer than a second, "I did get in the car of a basically stranger who took me home while I was definitely intoxicated, so... don't know how smart that really is." Smirking at the mention of the evening.

The older Miller's eyebrows furrowed in confusion, "Why would you do- Oh." Stopping himself before he could continue. He shook his head with a laugh, "Right... yeah..." Just for a second, he had forgotten how truly unfortunate, or maybe not so unfortunate, your first meeting actually had been. "But," he took a deep breath in, "You got home safe. So it was a smart move, I guess."

"I got home very safe, yes," you agreed, a dreamy smile playing on your lips, as you pulled your hands back to yourself, feeling the chipped wood digging into your fingertips. "Thank you, again... really."

"All good," he gave you an assuring nod, "Rather getting in the car of a stranger than hangin' out with Tommy's group of... whatever they are."

You couldn't hold back the laughter coming from your lungs at his clear dislike of his younger brother's group of friends. Already back in the bar, it was clear to tell Joel was not a fan of them or the comments they made or truly anything about them all together, and he seemed to like making that very clear. He joined in your laughter with a slightly softer one, only to be interrupted as a voice from behind you suddenly shouted out.

"Pancakes and a ham sandwich!" Jimmy came through the swinging doors, the two plates in each of his hands as he stood next to you.

You turned to the side, giving him a quick smile.

"Oh- you were quick, thanks."

"I can take 'em," Joel was about to reach out, wanting to take his order, when you stopped him.

"No, no, it's fine. I'll bring them over," you assured him. "In a second."

"You sure?" He asked you cautiously.

You nodded, your lips pressed together tightly. "A girl's gotta work," you shrugged with a smile.

Joel gave you a quick nod before taking the two glasses of lemonade and going back to his table, the eyes of the little girl waiting for him getting big as she saw what he had brought along. You grinned at the sight.

"Y'sure you wanted to make the girl happy or the dad?" The old man's voice rang through your ear. Your head snapped towards him, taking a step in defence back.

"'Xcuse me?"

Jimmy shook his head in amusement, putting down the two plates of food. "I was in there tryin' to avoid interruptin' you two, but Lord..."

"What?" You wondered, a slight edge to your tone as you were interested in hearing what he was about to say.

He glanced at you with a soft smirk. "It was painful listenin' to that poor attempt of a flirt."

"A flirt? By who?"

"Y'know damn well by who," he pointed a strict finger at you, the smile still evident on his face as you tried to hide your own.

You arrogantly lifted your head, making sure to stick your nose up extra high as you crossed your arms. "I have no idea what you're talkin' abou'," purposely copying his very Southern accent badly. "That wasn't flirtin'."

"Damn right, it wasn't."

"Oh, I'm sorry that I don't have forty years of flirting experience," you bit back jokingly, about to snatch the two plates off the counter.

Jimmy scoffed with a shake of his head, "I wasn't talkin' 'bout you, darlin'." And with those words, he left through the doors again, going back into the kitchen.

You stopped in your tracks, hurriedly following him.

"Wait-," you called out, "You think he was flirting with me?"

"A poor attempt of a flirt," he corrected you, his back already turned to you as he started cleaning the counters. Before you could say anything more, he stopped you with a raise of his hand, "Go back to work, sweet pea. We'll talk about this later," giving you a last wink.

Joel and Sarah got their meals, and you brought Miles his free lemonade as well. It was already past 7pm, almost closing time as you usually locked the doors at 8pm. Most customers had left, besides a few teenagers you decided to hang around for a bit, enjoying the cheap prices of the food. The father-daughter duo in the corner had split up, leaving the oldest Miller brother to sit alone at the table, his finger furiously trying to type out a message on his phone, only to give up with an annoyed sigh and switch to calling the person. His little girl had joined Miles at his table after her dad had told her that he was there.

It was a rare sight. You had never seen the young boy interact with people his age. Or really with anyone but you or your mom. Other adults had tried to make a few conversations work, only to be met with silence from him. He didn't enjoy talking to strangers much, understandably so. The sound of the two giggling brought warmth to your heart and a smile to your face. He hardly ever grinned as much with you as he did right at that moment with her. You had no idea he even had people around him that could make him this happy. He didn't even smile at his mother when you once saw her pick him up. It was a one-time-only experience, he usually took the bus home alone. Sometimes you accompanied him, just out of fear and worry as to who would even think to let their own child travel by public transport in the dark. But maybe that was your big-city brainwashed mind talking and small-town parents saw the world completely differently than you did.

"We got any new ones?" Jimmy's smoker voice brought you back to the present and made your eyes leave the two kids to look at him.

You shook your head, "No, I think that was it for tonight, you can start closing up." You rarely ever got any new customers past 7:30, so you gave him the o.k. to clean up in the back while you started at the front.

Rounding the counter, you passed the tables, now empty, to get the last few plates and glasses that were left by people who had left merely a few minutes ago. Some others noticed you cleaning, handing you over everything they didn't need any more along the way. With full hands, you came back to the bar area, placing each dirty plate, glass, and mug on the window sill, between the front area with the kitchen. Jimmy gave you a grateful smile as he got a hold of them.

As you turned around, you were once again faced with the dark-haired, dark-eyed beauty of Joel Miller standing in front of you. He had stacked their two plates together, with the cutlery right on top, and the now empty lemonade glasses right next to them.

"Oh-," you chuckled, "Thank you," taking them off the counter to turn around and put them on the sill as well.

"It was really good, so, thank you," he commented with a tight smile.

"I'll let the chef know."

"The chef knows!" The older man shouted out from the kitchen, letting his head peak out the window with a big grin. His facial expression made both of you chuckle.

You turned back to face the oldest Miller, glancing up at him slightly shyly, not even trying to hide it. "You're leaving?"

Joel nodded, putting his hands into the pockets of his jeans, "Yeah... Tommy needs to get picked up. And Sarah's got school tomorrow. Gotta check if the homework's all done." You nodded along to every single word dripping from his lips, even daring to take a few quick glances down to see each movement and curve of them. "I mean- she always does them, I don't... I don't think she'd ever not do her homework, she'll even do them in short breaks or... in the car or something. But..."

"Just to make sure," you grinned at him, blocking his further rambling.

Joel nodded, a heavy breath falling from his lips, "Exactly... yeah..." He opened his mouth just a bit one more time, but wouldn't dare to speak, making you wait in silence, begging he would continue whatever his mind had come up with next.

He cleared his throat, looking over at his little girl, before switching back to you. "I- I should get her."

You gave him a hasty nod, "Yeah, yeah, of course."

Just as he passed the counter to walk over to the two kids who still seemed to be as giggly as they were 30 minutes ago, Joel turned back around.

He called out your name, making you whip your head around with hope.

"Yeah?"

"D'you know if his parents are gonna come pick him up?"

Not the question you were desperately waiting to come out of his mouth, but at least something.

You shook your head, "No, he usually takes the bus. I'll go with him after closing."

Hesitantly, but still, he nodded, mumbling a quick, "Alright," before continuing to make his way over to the other corner of the diner.

In the meantime, you got back to wiping down the front counter, before moving onto each table in the room. Even the ones that hadn't been used that day, you made sure to clean. In the position you were in, you could see Joel and Sarah heading for the front door, only to stop and wave at you.

"I'll see ya," the oldest Miller smiled, "Have a good night." You waved back, chuckling as Sarah excitedly waved as well.

"Bye, it was nice to meet you, Y/N!"

"You too, Sarah. Good night."

Your eyes didn't leave their forms until they were back in the car after Joel opened one of the doors on the passenger side in the back, waiting for his daughter to jump in. You couldn't help but grin at the sight. Other customers who passed you, said their goodbyes, making you walk over to their tables to collect the money they left for the food they had eaten. Arrived at the table the father-daughter had occupied merely minutes ago, you glanced at the money, counting the bills with your fingers only to realise the generous tip Joel had left for you. Damn it, there you were smiling again.

Miles was entertaining himself outside, still in the same booth while you joined Jimmy in the kitchen. Every table had been swiped over, the counter cleaned to perfection, the cashier counted and the money stored safely in the safe. You had found a comfortable place on top of one of the counters in the kitchen, a mug of the last bit of coffee that was in the pot now in your hand. Just as you were about to take a sip, a groan fell from your lips as the memory hit you.

"Huh? What?" The older man looked up from the floor he was sweeping over.

"I forgot to give him his coffee...," you mumbled out loud.

Jimmy's thick brows furrowed, "Who?"

"Joel..." He had ordered a black coffee. You had even told him it was free, and he never got to taste it... but then again, he didn't ask you a second time...

He seemed to think for a second before the corners of his lips curled up, "Aaah, Sir Handsome."

Your head shot up in confusion, "What? Sir Handsome? Really?"

Jimmy just shrugged, "That's what I'm gonna call him."

"His name's Joel. Joel Miller."

"Miller?!" He stopped in his tracks, coming to a halt with the chore, almost dropping the broom to sit against the counter. "From 'round here?"

You nodded.

"Miller, like Thomas Miller?!"

You glanced at him in confusion. "You mean Tommy Miller?"

The man rolled his eyes, "Whatever that punk's name was," and went back to cleaning up. His reaction got a chuckle out of you.

The name Tommy Miller, or like Jimmy sacred to call him, Thomas Miller, had embranded itself onto the entire staff of the Diner. Even past employees knew about him. Hell, even the food inspectors that used to come around once a year knew about him - he had the fantastic idea of following the lady around the diner like a lost puppy, flirting with her the entire time. The fact that she was well over 30 and he just a good 18 years old was so not important to him at the time.

He and his entourage were well-known around the area for multiple reasons. Their bad reputation had followed them all throughout their teenage and young adulthood, leaving a memory of their presence with each and every one who had ever come in touch with them.

"Yeah... they're... brothers."

With a clearly unamused facial expression, Jimmy glared at you, making you sit up straighter in an instant.

"Joel's the older one. And he's nothing like Tommy," you assured him. "I promise."

"And how d'you know that, young lady?" He popped his hip out to the right side, leaving the broom to lean against the counter as he took in his stance.

Jimmy might not be your father, but he's someone's. And you can tell. Your dad had been sick for longer than you'd like to remember, leaving Jimmy to take on the role of the next best thing of a male parental figure with a slight touch of a close friend.

"He- We...," you sighed, looking at the booth behind you to take a quick peek at Miles, colouring some pictures you had given him as entertainment. "I was at a bar-"

"When?" He nagged.

"Not too long ago."

"When?"

"A few weeks ago," you answered him with a sigh, trying to continue the story, when he interfered again. He shook his head, sighing your name out loud as he ran a hand over his face.

"Jimmy-"

"I won't tell your Mom, don't worry," he raised his hands in defence. "Just wantin' to know you were safe."

"I was," you told him, "partially thanks to Joel." Making him frown. "So. As I said. I was at a bar and Tommy, Joel's brother, was there with his group of friends-"

"Oh, Lord, help me...," Jimmy mumbled.

"Not his teenage friend group!" You called out, "I don't think so at least... I don't know," you brushed off the thought, "Anyways, I was there and Tommy invited me to sit with them. And at first, I wasn't really sure, but then Joel came too and I was like... why not, you know?" The older man gave you a knowing smirk. "But that quickly turned into a mistake because his friends, high school friends or not, were jerks, so I wanted to go home, but I had a few drinks, so Joel drove me home."

"You gave a random man your address?!"

"This is a small town!" You defended yourself, "If he was bad news, everyone would know!"

"That's not the point-"

"The point is!" You interrupted him, "I only got into his car because he was genuinely nice and the only one of them all that listened to me and actually seemed like he wanted to talk to me at that table." The part of your best friend technically forcefully reserving you a seat in the passenger side of his car was left out.

"Yeah...," Jimmy shook his head with a sigh, "You know who else was this charismatic?"

"Who?"

"Ted Bundy."

"Jimmy!" You threw your head back with a big laughter erupting from your lungs.

The audacity to even compare these two men.

"Dark hair, dark eyes, nice smile. Sounds like Ted to me." Like he knew the guy...

"You can't say that," you scolded him, wiping away the tear that had fallen from your eye in the middle of the fit of laughter. He joined you with a wholehearted chuckle, coming closer, to stand right across from you.

"So, what about him?" He suddenly turned serious, crossing his arms in front of his small beer belly.

You shrugged. "I like him," thinking for a second before continuing. "I only met him once- well, twice now, and I think he's really handsome. But... I don't know. I don't think he looks at me like that. This crush might be one-sided."

"Why not? Y'are a pretty lady!" He called out with another frown. It would let people believe he was mad when only compliments kept falling from his lips. "Ya smart, good with kids, polite. Why wouldn't he like ya?"

"He didn't even remember my name from the last time we met!"

Jimmy couldn't hide his smirk of amusement, "Sweetheart..."

"What? This isn't funny! I'm in a crisis."

"Y'are wearin' a name tag."

Your right hand immediately flew up to your chest and onto the plaque you always wore on the right side of your shirt. Glancing down, you saw the piece of plastic staring right back at you. How could you even forget that you were wearing that thing?

"But why..."

"I told ya," the old man shrugged his shoulder with a chuckle, "A poor attempt of a flirt."

You scoffed with a roll of your eyes, hopping down from the corner to take off the apron and mentioned tag. "That's really what you call flirting?"

"I think, he's a man probably somewhere around his thirties with a little girl by his side. How much female attention ya think he's been gettin'?"

"Have you seen him?" You stared at him with wide eyes. "I think quite a lot."

"Okay, how much female attention ya think he's lettin' get to him? This man probably hasn't even spent a night with another woman in YEARS. Where's the mom anyways?"

You shrugged, "Izzy said she got pregnant in college and everyone just thought he left her. But he has a daughter now and I hardly believe he would let his high school sweetheart alone with a baby while keeping one from another woman."

"Ya really thought a lot 'bout that, huh?"

With a smirk, you looked up at the ceiling before glancing to the side, trying to avoid his eyes as you mumbled, "Maybe a little..."

"If ya asked ya sister 'bout it, I doubt it was a little," he chuckled, noticing how riled up you were getting about the subject as you threw your apron on the counter.

"Alright! I thought about it a lot, okay?! I don't want to come off too strong when he has a whole family waiting for him at home. But so far... I don't think he has... but... I don't know." You crossed your arms in front of your chest. "I have to get my information somehow."

"Could also just ask him, ya know?" Jimmy tapped your head as he snatched your apron off the counter after taking off his own and heading towards the employees' closet.

"I feel like that's rude. Imagine just talking to someone, kinda 'cause you're forced to do it and suddenly she's all up your business, asking you about romantic partners and whatnot." You came to a halt in the doorway, leaning against it as you watched him pull out his jacket and hand you your own.

"I don't think he'd be flirtin' so poorly with a girl if he had someone at home. "He sent you a stern look, "And if he has and still does that, he's a piece of shit." Making you chuckle as you put on the piece of outerwear.

"Can you stop saying poor flirting? He was talking. Maybe he's trying. He was telling me about his daughter."

"Jesus, sweet pea, he told ya her entire life story. Ya could write her autobiography with all the ramblin' he did today," Jimmy joked, shaking his head in disbelief.

You laughed along with him as you grabbed your bag and headed back to the kitchen. "You're overreacting."

"Am not!" He told you. "The last time I sounded like that was when I tried to get to sweet talk my beautiful Betty." Your lips formed into a smile at the mention of his wife. This man could talk about her for HOURS. He's a true role model for the upcoming generation, and you were hopeful for his children getting to watch a couple truly in love right in front of their eyes.

"Plus," he added, "I have a cousin. Jeff. Single dad for three years. He's been tryin' to get himself out there again, and good God... Jesus help him. This man knows nothin'. Nothin'. That Joel kid reminds me of him a little," he stopped for a second to look at your blushed cheeks that had started to heat up. "Like I said, I didn't want to interrupt ya, but it was painful. Just like with Jeff."

You shook your head in defeat. There you had your confirmation. If what Maria had told you wasn't already enough, you better trust the wise words of a fifty-year-old man, married to the love of his life for a good thirty years.

"So," you cleared your throat, taking a deep breath in, "You think I have a chance?"

Jimmy sighed. He shook his head. After a step forward, he stopped right in front of you, placing both of his hands on your shoulders, only to cup your cheeks right after.

"My dear," he made sure you were looking him straight in the eyes. "I think ya could make a man build a castle with his bare hands for ya. And I think ya know that too."

You smirked, retrieving a small memory from that night in his truck. "Well... he is a constructor."

Jimmy gave you a laugh with his whole heart, pulling your face in to place a warm peck on the top of your head. He let you free again, giving you a comforting pat on the shoulder.

"Just give that man some time. Y'are a beautiful lady. He's nervous." With a final nod, he left through the back door of the diner, leaving you alone in the kitchen. He knew you'd be taking the bus to make sure Miles got home.

Speaking of, the last sounds echoing through the empty area were your beating heart and the scraping of the coloured pencils getting dragged over the paper by Miles. Your head turned to the side, and with a smile, you watched the young boy.

Just give him some time.

A week later, on Tuesday, you saw him again.

Monday had passed and there had been no sign of Sarah or him. Miles had been at the diner, entertaining you with some casually fun stories from school, including the young Miller girl in a few of them, but never anything else. And you weren't going to pester him about why she hadn't visited the diner after her practice on Monday.

But there he was, strolling into the room on Thursday, 6:30 in the evening. You were writing down the order of a group of teenagers when you heard the bell above the door. Right after you lifted your head, just wanting to call out a quick, "Welcome!", your breath got caught in your throat, making you cough out loud awkwardly. With a hand in front of your lips, you tried to cover it up, going back to writing down the order before disappearing into the kitchen.

"He's here!" You shout-whispered at the cook, who whipped his head around.

"Who?" He wondered, answering you quickly, but as soon as he saw your wide-eyed stare, he got the message. Jimmy smirked as he placed two finished plates on top of the counter. His eyes drifted from your form over the open window out into the restaurant, his smile dropping in an instant.

"Fucking Miller," he cursed out loud. You turned around to follow his gaze, finding not only Joel but also Tommy taking a seat in a booth right across from you. The older Miller's head seemed to notice your stare, glancing up, only for you to quickly turn around again.

"What do I do?" You continued to whisper, now even more careful about the others possibly hearing you as they were only a few feet away and an open window wasn't much of a sound barrier.

The cook rolled his eyes and turned back to the stove. "Get that punk out of the restaurant."

"Wh- Not Tommy! I don't mean him," you explained. "Joel."

Jimmy looked back at you, "Just be yourself, Jesus," grumbling something to himself that you couldn't quite understand.

Defeated, you took a deep breath in, reminding yourself of who you actually were and trying to get your act back together. If Maria could see you, she'd be filming you for a future Comedy sitcom - she'd have a field day with the state you were in. Nervous because of a man...

Just as you turned around, ready to face the outside world again, Jimmy's call out of your name made you stop.

"Huh?"

"Give me that," he nudged his head towards your hands.

"What?" With a frown you glanced down, seeing the order you had just written down, already long forgotten again. "Oh- right," you ripped the piece of paper off the block and put it on top of the counter before trying to walk away again. But there he was, the older man stopping you one more time.

"What?" You asked him, clearly on edge now, slightly amusing him.

"I swear to God, I'll spit in his food. Don't matter what he'll order." You knew exactly, who he was talking about, making you roll your eyes with a chuckle.

You pushed the swinging doors, taking a quick look around the space, trying to see if anyone needed something for you, but it was, just like the last few times, barely packed. Going past the counter, you crossed the floor to the other side of the restaurant, already noticing one side of the handsome face you had been so desperate to see again.

"Hey, guys," you approached them with a smile, stopping right by their table, now also finally getting a peek at the younger Miller. Both men were still in some type of work attire and you noticed the slight shine and curl to their hair. Tommy's was longer and darker, but you prefered Joel's.

"Hey, girly," the youngest grinned at you before slapping his older brother's arm that was perched up on the table. "See, I told you, she'd be here," he turned back to you, "How have you been?"

You nodded, "Good, busy. The usual, you know. You?"

"Good, good," he continued, "Getting back into the American lifestyle, chasing the American Dream." You didn't notice the roll of the eyes from Joel.

You couldn't help but chuckle, "You're chasing the American Dream?"

"Sure am," he answered you proudly. "Might not be as smart as you are, but a man's gotta try."

"'Course, why not," you shrugged, a smile still on your lips, hoping your answer would be enough.

"So," he huffed out a big breath, taking the menu into his grip, pretending to read over it. "I heard your turkey sandwich and pancakes are still as good as I remember."

You had to admit, the thought of Joel and Sarah telling him about their dinner at the diner warmed your heart a bit.

"I mean," you smirked, "I might be a bit biased, but I'd say so, yeah. Jimmy's still making them as good as always."

"Jimmy's still here?" Tommy wondered, making you nod a take a step to the side, letting him take a quick peek into the kitchen. "Ey, Jimmy!" The old man turned around, meeting the young Miller's eyes with a glare. Tommy lifted his hand for a wave, but the cook's attention was already back on the food he was making.

"Still doesn't like me, I see," he mumbled, shaking his head slightly as you laughed.

"Wouldn't be surprised if he spat in your foot." Joel suddenly spoke up. You looked over to him, giggling at the comment, making his lips curl up in return.

"He offered," you let him know, getting a chuckle out of him,

"Well," he shot his brother an annoying smirk, "Aren't you a treat for this town."

Tommy looked up at you, a hasty response dropping from his lips, "Tell him I decline. Gladly." Before scowling at his older brother.

Suddenly, you felt like you were interrupting something between the two. With a deep breath, the younger Miller brother was back to his old self, fixing the fit of his jacket. "Well, then... I'll take the turkey sandwich and see if it's still holdin' up to the good ol' times."

Your lips curled up into a teasing grin, deciding to just throw out the comment tickling your tongue. "You're doubting Jimmy's talent?"

"I would never," he quickly told you, making you chuckle and gently shake your head before you diverted your attention to the older brother, seeing him already looking up at you. The menu was barely in his grip as his fingers played with the laminated corners of the paper.

"I'll take the same," waiting for you to be done writing it down asking Tommy to pass him his menu and handing both over to you.

Before you turned around to get the orders over to Jimmy, you asked, "Coffee?"

Joel nodded, "Sure, thank you," intertwining his hands on top of the table as he looked at you. He didn't comment on the fact you forgot about that the last time he was there. You sure wouldn't forget it this time.

"Make that two, please," Tommy quickly added with a thankful nod after you assured them to be right back.

Trying to keep your eyes off the man was harder than you had hoped it would be. While you were able to busy yourself with taking orders and repeatedly cleaning the counter - you swear, it had never been cleaner than that day - you couldn't help but let your eyes wander over to the seat right by the window.

Joel and Tommy were sipping the coffee you had brought them, munching on their sandwiches, hopefully, oblivious to the internal fight you had going on with yourself. Miles was almost finished with his free lemonade and you were actually close to getting him another one, just so you had something to do. You couldn't just lurk around the counter like you usually would, otherwise, you'd find yourself staring at one of the brothers for too long.

During your little cleaning frenzy, you were able to let not only Jimmy's words but also Maria's re-run in your mind again. The evening, right after Joel and Sarah had spent their evening time in the diner, your best friend got every single detail from you, the moment she stepped into the apartment at 4am. Yes, you had stayed up to tell her. The session ended at around 6, the sun lighting up the living room being the indication to finally go to bed, where you found yourself awake for another good 40 minutes, just begging for a good dream to finally find you.

You had recalled the entire few hours he was in the same room as you. The moment he and his daughter stepped into the diner, the brief conversation you guys had, the coffee you had forgotten, up until the moment he had to basically verbally drag Sarah away from Miles' booth to get her home. Maria's screeching and excited jumps on the couch made you smile to yourself as you remembered the evening. It came close to a miracle that you got away without a single purple mark on your arm, considering she was repeatedly hitting you, smacking the naked skin of your upper arm each time his name fell from your lips.

She had put extra emphasis on the "I'll see ya," Joel had left the diner with. To which you sadly had to explain to her the casual meaning of those few words. It was a somewhat polite way to say goodbye to someone you know, not necessarily meaning that you'll see each other again. Maybe indicating it, but definitely not meaning it word for word - but Maria stood her ground.

You had also told her about your gossiping session with Jimmy afterwards. She had only met him a handful of times, her own working hours not leaving her much time to come and visit you at the restaurant, so told tales would have to do it. But even without really knowing the man, she agreed to each and everything he had said.

"You know, there's not a lot that I would believe coming from a man or even listen to. But if anyone knows about a man's poor flirting techniques, it would be another man."

You had hidden your face in one of the pillows on your couch, the heat shooting into your cheeks being almost too much to bear, resulting in another few slaps to your arm from her. Jesus, could could start giggling and kicking your feet right now too, just at the mere thought of there being some sort of truth to their words and Joel's actions. But there was a barrier of reality still right in front of you. Not only had Jimmy mentioned his 'poor attempt of a flirt' but also the fact that your not-so-silly little crush was a 30-year-old father, with possibly very limited dating experience in the past few years. It wasn't something you had even tried to consider before Jimmy mentioned it. Add the unnecessary comment from one of Tommy's friends back at the bar, and it suddenly made sense.

"This poor man probably has no idea that you're even interested in him," Maria had whined out loud, "He's trying his best, but God..." You chuckled at her voice in the back of your head.

You ditched your daydream the moment the coffee pot was fully filled up again, the coffee machine making its usual sound to let you know it was done. With that, you began your usual round within the diner, passing each person who was holding onto a cup, asking them for a refill. Most happily accepted your offer, leaving you with a half-empty pot once you reached the two brothers.

"Another cup for you two?"

Tommy smiled up at the sound of your voice, "Sure, thanks, Y/N." You made sure his mug was properly filled up before turning towards Joel, who politely declined.

"Not for me, but thank you," nodding his head at you.

"Still trying to cut down?" His younger brother wondered, speaking over the brim of the mug he had brought up to his lips.

Joel took a deep breath, "If you had a 9-year-old lecturing you about the effects of caffeine each morning, you'd start thinkin' about it too." The explanation got a chuckle out of Tommy and made your lips curl up into a smile. Before you even thought about turning around to walk back behind the corner, you decided to continue the conversation. Taking every shot you could, just like Maria had told you.

"How is she?" You asked, "Sarah."

The older Miller brother lifted his head with a somewhat surprised expression on his face, but you just continued to smile at him. Tommy continued to hold his cup up against his mouth, hiding the smirk forming on his lips.

"Good," Joel let you know, "Very good. She... She had a test today. Lot to study yesterday... so we couldn't come over."

"I see," you humed, "I was wondering where you guys were."

A brief moment of silence followed your comment, almost making you regret admitting to the longing. Thankfully, the younger Miller got up from his seat with a clearing of his throat, making Joel perk up.

"Where are you goin'?"

"Gonna take a piss. You wanna control that too?" Sending his older brother an unreadable facial expression, almost glare, before he disappeared to head towards the toilet.

You frowned when a sigh escaped Joel's lips. "Everything okay?" You asked him, eyeing the older man carefully as he ran a hand over his face.

"Yeah," he mumbled, "Just... Tommy being Tommy."

A chuckle fell from you, making you cover your lips with your fingers. "Sorry," you excused yourself as he lifted his head, "Just... if I had a dollar for every time I heard those words from someone with that expression... I wouldn't be working here anymore."

Joel laughed. You managed to get the scowl off his face to replace it with a genuine laugh. He looked down at the table, shaking his head, but you could see his shoulders shaking and the unmistakable sound of joy coming from him. You tried to hide your amusement, the moment he locked eyes with you again.

"I thought you worked here because you were a good daughter," he commented. He remembered the conversation in his truck. On the way to your place, you had briefly mentioned the reason you had come back to Texas. And he remembered.

You grinned, "Oh, I'm a great daughter." Joel chuckled. "But I wouldn't mind the extra cash." Your own words let a thought flash into your mind. "Speaking of," you started again, "Thank you for the tip... last week. It really- you... you didn't have to do that."

"All good," he sent you a quick smile, "Good service needs a good reward."

"Even though I forgot your coffee," you sheepishly admitted, just getting another chuckle out of him.

"We got good food and free drinks, so you won't find me complaining," he simply told you, making you smile and look down at the pot of coffee you were still holding onto.

"Well," you had started to tap around with your fingers, trying to look for the next words to say, "Thank you. I appreciate it."

"'Course," he nodded at you before you turned around to get behind the counter again.

Only a few minutes later, the two brothers decided to call it a day and stand up to leave. You were just coming back out from the kitchen when you found them standing at the register, both smiling when you came to a halt.

"Just wanted to say goodbye," Tommy grinned at you, gently smacking his hand on top of the counter.

You chuckled, "Bye, have a good evening." 'Night' would've probably been more suitable as it was pitch black outside. A quick look towards the clock would also tell you it was already 7:51pm - almost closing time.

The younger one turned towards the exit door while Joel stood still, waiting for your eyes to lock again.

"I'll see you next week. Goodnight," he simply said with a smile, turning around without another word. His soft voice lingered in your head even after he was already through the doors and on his way to his beloved pick-up truck.

You quickly pulled yourself back into the presence. With a swift turn around, you rushed back into the kitchen. Even before the door was fully closed again, you were jumping around the space, getting a shocked facial expression from Jimmy in return.

"He said 'See you next week!!" You squealed in exactly, your arms moving around in the air as you got closer to the chef.

With a tight grip on his arm, you shook him, "He said 'SEE YOU NEXT WEEK'!"

The older man just grinned at you, shaking his head as he watched you dance around the kitchen.

"How much joy just a few words can bring to ya, kid," he softly spoke, throwing the dishcloth over his shoulder to cross his arms and lean against the counter.

"Just a few words?!" You stared at him, stopping your movements, "He just promised me that he'll come back next week! He WANTS to come back!" Reality hit you for a split second. "I sound really delusional, but I. Don't Care." Before starting your little happy dance around the space again. Jimmy's deep chuckles bounced off the walls.

"Can't remember the last time I've seen ya so happy." He admired the pure happiness spilling from you, filling the room with nothing but joy. With a sigh, your spinning around came to an end.

"I'm happy because I get to see a good-looking hunk of a man again! Can you blame me?"

"Hunk of a man?" Jimmy laughed out loud, his entire upper body shaking as he walked around the corner to push you towards the door. "Get to locking up and then ya can tell me all about Sir Handsome again."

"Okay!" You squealed again, pushing out the door, the echo of his laughter still in the background. Suddenly, getting through the rest of the week seemed to be much more enjoyable than before.

On Friday, one of the only days, you had gotten off of work at the diner, you decided to join Maria in the bar. While she was working, you were enjoying your time sitting at the counter once again. You were sipping on your second drink of the night, drinking slowly as you weren't looking for something wild tonight, but rather just enjoying a nice calm evening. It was around 11pm and even though you had been sitting there for a good 2 hours, there was not a massive amount of alcohol rushing through your body as you had asked your best friend to keep the drink mild. But some people had other plans that night.

"Well, hello there," a deep voice slurred next to you. With slight confusion you turned to the right, eyeing the man that had tumbled up to the bar counter.

You sighed, "Hey." Nothing against drunk people, hell, you were one of them from time to time, but God... sometimes you can just tell, you know?

He blinked at you, "A pretty little girl so alone in the middle of a bar in the middle of the night?" His dirty blonde hair was roughed up and the plaid button-up hung loosely around his frame. It seemed to be a size too big.

"Yeah," you nodded, "And I'd prefer to keep it that way, to be honest." For tonight, there were no plans. You were waiting for a beautiful man on Monday, that was plan enough.

The guy chuckled, holding onto the counter as he stumbled back, "I'm Cody and I'm sure I could change ya mind. I could show ya good time, I promise."

"You're trying to sell yourself here? I'm not interested, thank you," you simply told him, internally begging for Maria to come back to the front, but she was being kept busy in the back apparently. Nobody else seemed to be interested in what was going on between you and the drunk fuck next to you.

With slight confusion written across his face, he continued to stumble over his words. "Who says anythin' about sellin'? I ain't sellin' myself. Ya can get this here for free," pointing towards himself.

"As I said," you repeated yourself, making sure annoyance laced your voice, "Not interested." Just as you tried to get up and move, hoping to get behind the bar and into the backroom, you felt a tight grip on your arm.

"Listen," the man stopped you, "You don't know what ya missin' out on here, sweetcheeks."

"And you don't know what you're getting yourself into if you continue to talk like that to me. Let go of me," you hissed at him. You were taught how to use your words, not your hands though, so you didn't really know what exactly you were threatening him with.

A disgusting sarcastic chuckle came from him while his grip just tightened. You glared into his eyes with a hint of fear as he let his face get closer to you, "Look, I don't wanna do this another-"

"Hey, what's goin' here?" Never would you have ever thought to be thankful to hear that voice. Whipping your head to the left, you found a wondering Tommy Miller, glancing between you and the drunk guy. A sigh of relief tumbled from your lips. "You two are lookin' awfully close."

"Get back to ya own business, cowboy," the guy spat at the younger Miller brother, his eyes raking over his frame when he found the boots Tommy was wearing. "I'm just talkin' to the pretty lady 'ere."

"Well, but I know that pretty lady, so it kinda is my business, you know?" He simply answered him, daring to take a step closer. Tommy glanced at you, "You know him, Y/N?" He asked.

You shook your head with a gulp, to which he just nodded, but before he could even say something, the drunk, still holding onto you, beat him to it.

"She's lyin'! I just introduced myself!"

"You know, I believe her," Tommy stopped him, raising his hand to place it on top of his that was gripping your arm, "So how about you take your-"

"Get your fucking hands off me!" The other guy snapped at him, pulling his hand off you, reacting to Tommy's touch like it was fire.

The younger Miller could just laugh at the reaction. "What?" He chuckled, "So you can put your hands on a random woman but as soon as I do it it's uncomfortable? A bit ironic, don't you think?"

"What are ya tryin' to do here?" With a few steps, the guy was head to head with Tommy, making you take a quick jump back. "Ya think ya gotta prove you've got some big balls here?"

"Me?" Tommy pointed to himself with a chuckle, "Nah, I just wanted to know if I gotta play translator." His comment got a look of confusion from the man in return. "I didn't you understood the English language because I'm pretty sure she said she wasn't interested, but you just... ignored that?"

"Ya makin' fun of me?"

"Am I?" Tommy continued to nag at the guy, making you take a step forward, trying to reach for him.

"Tommy, don't-" only to get pushed back by the dirty-blonde man.

"Get the fuck away!" He shoved you, making you stumble backwards, hitting the back of another guy, to whom you quickly excused yourself.

The younger brother looked at you in concern, but as soon as he saw you safe on your feet, his attention was back on the drunk in front of him.

He sighed, "Look," he motioned towards you. "Now I have to hit you. Because you just hit her."

"I didn't hit her," the guy scoffed, "I barely even pushed her."

"Nah, I'm pretty sure you did that," with a strong force, Tommy pushed into the guy's chest. "Maybe even a little harder, like this," and repeated it with some added strength.

In clear annoyance, the drunk man shoved Tommy's hands off of him, only giving it another second before he let his fist swing. The Miller brother was quick to react, moving out of the way before landing the first official punch to the guy's side. The blonde groaned at the impact, only letting it affect him for a split moment before pushing Tommy further away. It gave him the time and space to land his own first hit to Tommy's face, making you gasp out loud.

The entire's bar attention was now on the two fighting men, creating some space for them as they stumbled across the floor. You could only hear a few mumbles around you as your eyes were fixed on the fight in front of you. You tried to look for Maria but a crowd had formed right in front of a bar with mostly men, taller than you, hiding the counter area.

One punch made Tommy land on his ass as the other guy whipped his hand over his lips, you guessed there was some blood. You took the opportunity, to get down on the floor, your hands on the Miller's arm.

"Come on, stop this, don't waste-"

But before you could finish it, somebody shoved your body away from Tommy, making your back hit the wooden pole right behind you. You groaned out loud, closing your eyes for a second.

"Y/N!" You heard Maria's voice as she suddenly appeared, standing in front of the crowd with a glass bottle in her hand. In the next moment, she held the bottle up, swinging it to let it hit the back of the drunk guy's head before he could land another punch to Tommy's face as he straddled him. The man fell to the side, right by your feed, making you flinch away.

"Are you okay?!" Maria was right by your side, crouching down as she helped you up.

You nodded, "Yeah, yeah," you had only hit your back, which would definitely leave a mark, but not much else. Your worry lay on the guy who hadn't gotten up yet. No, not the clearly drunk one.

"Tommy," you rushed over, watching him as he groaned, blood rushing down from his nose. You couldn't even tell if there was blood coming from his mouth as well.

He huffed out, "Ah, fuck," trying to steady himself with his hands on the floor as he pushed himself up.

"Jesus Christ," Maria whispered out loud. The hushed voices around you got louder, making her raise her voice, "Everybody either get back to their table or out of here! There's nothing to see here!" After the first guy went after her demand, the rest followed.

"Tommy," you sighed, "I think we should get you to a hospital."

"Are you okay?" He suddenly asked you. You nodded quickly,

"I am. But you don't look good."

"N-No... no hospital," he told you trying to stand up more, making you stumble up as well as you tried to hold onto him even though he was putting half of his weight on you already.

"You have to, Tommy. Your nose is probably broken."

"If only the nose," Maria commented, suddenly having an ice pack and some paper tissues in her hold. "You wanna take my car? Get him to the hospital... I'll see what I can do about... this one," she nodded towards the guy on the floor that was slowly coming back to consciousness. "Probably have to call the police."

"Did that already!" Out of nowhere, Steven suddenly shouted out from behind the bar, making your best friend roll her eyes.

"Where the fuck were you before?!"

"I can't let... I...," Tommy groaned, not finishing his sentence as his mouth seemed to hurt.

"Take my car," Maria quickly told you, handing you the ice pack, tissues and the keys from her bag pocket, "And call me once you're there. I'll handle this here." She also got your bag for you.

You smiled at her, "Thank you," to which she nodded, giving you a soft touch on the back before you tried to move Tommy towards. He seemed to be okay walking, but his face was clearly in pain as he held his head down. The walk towards Maria's car was quiet, only his groans and moans filled the air between the two of you.

In the car, you put on the radio, trying to let the silence not become awkward.

"Are you okay?" Tommy asked you again.

You nodded, "You asked me that already. I'm okay. Only hit my back."

"Fucking idiot...," he mumbled, mostly to himself probably, but you shook your head.

"You too," you told him, "Why would you start a fight like that? I thought those days were over."

"I ain't lettin' a man talk like that to a woman, no matter what. And I know you, so I'm definitely not walkin' past that," he defended himself, almost raising his voice, but the situation told him not to.

The rest of the ride, the two of you listened to whatever was coming from the radio.

At the hospital, the two of you were told to wait in the waiting room as his injuries were not severe enough for him to be put in the emergency room. If it wasn't as late as it was, you would've started something with the personnel, but you already had enough of that for one night. They did offer you a new ice pack though and some more tissues.

You took a seat in one of the uncomfortable chairs next to Tommy, trying to find a bearable position. "Should I call Joel?" You asked him, knowing how close the two seemed to be.

Tommy groaned, throwing his head back and closing his eyes, "Fuck..." He thought for a second before continuing, "No... let's not do that. Unless you really wanna see him." One quick glance to the side, you found him smirking at you, giving you a quick wink. Even with all the blood on his face, this man was still able to joke around...

"You...," you shook your head in disbelief, "You're in the hospital. This is about you. I think he should know about his little brother being in the hospital," you snapped at him, but he only continued to smile.

"But you want to see him again, right?"

"Tommy-"

"I heard you in the diner."

Your head snapped to glance at him. The annoying grin was still plastered on his face.

"What?"

He chuckled. "I left my hat in the booth. When I came back to get it I saw you dancing around the kitchen singing that he'll see you next week."

With a pout on your lips, you crossed your arms in front of your chest and turned your head to look away. You knew there was no blame on him for this situation and all the blame was to be put on you, but you couldn't help but feel sulky towards him.

You scoffed, "It's not nice to listen to other people's conversations."

"But now I can help you," he nudged your side, hissing softly as he moved. You stared at him, trying to figure out if he was in serious pain and if you needed to get a nurse. He seemed fine as the smirk returned.

"Get your nose fixed first, then we'll talk."

With another groan, he sat forward, suddenly reaching into the back pocket of his jeans before falling back into the seat with a groan. He handed you his phone.

"Call him."

"Tommy, you didn't want him here. I'm not-"

"He'll be pissed at me, yes. But y'all can talk while I'm in there," you glanced at you, "Get to know each other a little better," wiggling with his eyebrows. You couldn't help but roll your eyes, your lips curling up against your will. He nudged the Nokia closer to you, giving you no other possibility but to take it.

"I'll be right back," you mumbled, getting a giggle out of him.

"Start the call with 'hey babe'!" He shouted after you, putting on a fake high-pitched voice to mock you. A harsh 'ssh' from one of the nurses made him sink back into the chair and you turned around and threw him a quick middle finger before disappearing further into the corridor.

You pressed the buttons to get to his contact list, not finding anyone under J that wasn't a girl's name, so you decided to just look through the entire thing, starting with A, until you finally reached B.

Barbara, Beatrice, Billy, Boobs-

He had a contact for 'Boobs'? You shook your head.

Brother Old.

This could either be someone else, an old number of Joel or, as you had hoped, Joel's current number. You pressed to call it, putting the phone up to your ear. After four rings, somebody on the other side picked up.

"What?" An annoyed groan erupted through the speaker. The familiar roughness to his voice was unlike any other's.

"Hey Joel, it's Y/N," you answered him. Some shuffling around seemed to happen in the background before his voice rang through your ear again.

"Y/N? What's going on? What happened?" He hastily wondered.

You took a second of silence to form a good sentence, just thinking about what he was currently doing or even just looking like. It was in the middle of the night, and just taken from his voice, you'd say you had interrupted his sleep. Did he sleep in a pyjama set? No, he was a dad. A true dad wouldn't sleep in much else but some shirt and boxers. Or maybe he's not wearing anything at all to sleep. You were drifting off.

"Ehm... So... Sorry for calling so late-"

"It's okay, don't worry," he quickly assured you with a heavy breath.

Out of habit, you bit down on your lip before continuing. "I'm calling from the hospital. Tommy got into a fight."

"God damnit..." Joel cursed under his breath. There were more incoherent sounds in the background as he spoke. "Which hospital?"

"St. David's."

"Alright, I'm on my way," he told you.

You nodded even though he wouldn't be able to see it, "Okay, we're in the waiting room right at the reception."

"Good, thank you."

"You're welcome, bye."

With a sigh, he put the phone down, ending the call and making your way back into the waiting room.

Tommy lifted his head at the sound of your footsteps getting closer to him.

He grinned at you. "And?"

You shook your head, handing him his phone back. "He wasn't thrilled."

"Ah," he brushed off your answer, "I bet your face will make him happy."

"Joel- Tommy, I mean-"

"I'm already getting confused with him? Wow, I'm honoured," he nudged you as soon as you sat down, the smirk still evident on his face.

"Shut up," you rolled your eyes, not even trying to hide your amusement. "It's late."

"But you do like him."

"I barely know him," you defended yourself.

"But you find him attractive," he continued to nag further.

You nodded. There was no reason to hide it from him if he had already caught your burst of excitement back at the diner. "But I think half the female population of Austin would too."

"But half of the female population of Austin isn't you."

His comment made you turn your head in interest.

"And what exactly do you mean by that?" You squinted your eyes at him.

Tommy smiled. "I think I know my brother well enough to notice when he finds someone attractive."

You laughed at his answer. "Wow, you're just gonna out him like that?"

"Somebody's gotta do it," he shrugged, "What else he got a younger brother for." You shook your head in amusement.

You may not be the closest to Tommy, but this was the most time you had ever spent with just him. Plus, he had just admitted to noticing his brother's attraction towards you. That brought a thought to your head.

"Can I ask you something?" It probably wasn't the ideal situation, but oh well, if you already had him sitting right next to you, confined to a chair, why not. Shooting your shots.

"Sure."

"Is there... you know... I mean... with Sarah, I was thinking about like... her mom?"

He shook his head, "Don't worry 'bout that," he let you know, turning to meet your eyes. "It's not my story to tell, but... she's not in the picture."

You almost felt stupid. You had only seen this man a total of three times, yet he had managed to enarmour you and let you think that you suddenly had the right to know everything about his personal life.

"Why?" He asked with the smirk back plastered on his face, "You wanna ask him on a date?" The question took you by surprise, making you open your mouth, ready to defend yourself, but nothing came out. Your lips quivered as you tried to come up with an answer, but Tommy just laughed at your surprised reaction. The rose blush to your cheeks gave you away.

"You should," he told you, "It's been like... God, I don't even know, like... two or three years. Christ, maybe even four."

"Since his last relationship?" You wanted to be careful with your questions, but there was no way when Tommy played open book to you.

He shook his head, glancing at you. "Since his last date."

"Oh..."

So Jimmy was right.

"Yeah," Tommy nodded to himself, "You'd be surprised how many women get scarred off by the whole dad thing." Your lack of answer made him look over again. "But not you."

"Hm?"

"You ask about Sarah. He likes that."

"Well... she's his daughter, so... kinda obvious to ask about her," you were taken aback by the disinterest of the other women he had mentioned.

He shrugged, "Yeah, but like I said... not many care 'bout that."

A few moments of silence followed. Neither one of you seemed to have any will to continue your conversation. You didn't want to keep nagging further and you were pretty sure Tommy had started to doze off in his seat. It gave you some time to think, but a sudden jolt from the man next to you brought you back. He was about to sit up straighter when his eyes caught something behind you making you flinch and duck into the chair again, groaning at the impact.

"What?" You wondered, turning around to only find two police officers in the hallway, talking to a nurse. With a frown, you turned back to the Miller brother. "What?"

"They can't see me like this."

His reaction alarmed you immediately. "Why not?"

He seemed to think about his next answer before spilling out, "I know those guys. And they don't like me. If they see me like this, I'm fucked."

"What?"

"I just got a new job, I can't get another mark in my record."

Your eyes widened, "Your criminal record?" To which he just nodded. "Tommy!" You shouted-whispered at him, making him shush you. "How many fights did you get in."

"A few, okay? Just," he put his finger up to his lips, signing for you to keep quiet. You dropped back against the backrest of the chair with a sigh, shaking your head as you ran both hands over your face, mumbling to yourself.

From the side, you tried to watch the two officers as they passed you, hearing a relieved chunk of air leaving Tommy as he sat up again. You couldn't believe it. You knew he wasn't an angel and you remembered his troubled time as a teenager. What you didn't know was how that time had continued to chase him into adulthood.

Noticing his still slightly on edge stance, you decided to change the subject, hoping to give him some kind of distraction. And it just so happened that you had an actual topic of interest for you personally.

"You think I should ask him out?" A gulp followed your question, unsure if dropping that would reveal itself to be a mistake or not.

"On a date?" Tommy's voice was steady again as he looked at you, his lips curled into a soft smile. You nodded, making him chuckle. "Give him some time and he'll ask you himself."

"You think?"

He nodded but continued. "I mean, you can ask him. I... I don't know how he'd react, to be honest, but he wouldn't leave you hangin'. He's just... he's a traditional southern-"

"Gentleman," you said in union, chuckling together.

"I mean," Tommy started, "You know, if a woman offered herself to me, I would never decline-" You stopped him with a soft shove to his arm, making sure not to be too harsh since you didn't know how severe his injuries were. "But," he pushed your hand away from him, "Joel's a bit more old-fashioned in that way."

"I see," you nodded understandingly. Hearing this in connection to any other man would've probably made a chill run down your spine and the sick feeling of pure disgust bubble in your stomach, but for some reason, it didn't when it came to Joel. Tommy spoke so softly about him being s traditional gentleman, he made it sound good and proper. Not conservative and old.

A nurse's voice, calling out for Tommy made you look up as he tried to get out of his chair. You offered to help him, but he brushed it off, telling you to 'wait here for Joel' with a wink before following the nurse down the hall.

Only a few minutes later, heavy footsteps stomped through the corridor, coming to a stop at the reception. Before the older Miller brother could even ask for information on Tommy, his eyes found you. Curled up on a chair, your eyes closed and your shoulders lifting and dropping in an even beat. With the time now being well over midnight, you had given into your body's pleas for sleep and found some form of comfort in the waiting room chair.

He tried to be as smooth as possible, getting into the chair right next to you, previously occupied by his brother, but even at the slightest sound, you jerked up, lifting your head to find him.

"Hey, sorry for wakin' you," Joel excused himself, brushing his hands over the top of his jeans. He had thrown them on even though they should probably already be in the wash and the shirt was wrinkled as he had fallen asleep in it. His unruly hair, messy and curly, showed the sleep you had woken him up from. But even in this state, which most would describe as dishevelled, he still managed to look good. He looked comfortable. Warm.

You shook your head with a tired smile, covering your mouth as a yawn escaped you. "It's okay."

"How long have been you here?"

"Ehm...," you tried to look around for the clock on the wall. 12:05. "Not too long, like 40 minutes or something."

He nodded, letting a sigh fall from his lips. "What happened?"

You rubbed your eyes, forgetting about the makeup you had put on a few hours before, but it probably was already smudged either way. Unsure if the story Tommy would tell would hold any truth or if he'd make up something, you decided to tell it in whole.

"There was a guy," you started, continuing to explain the entire situation to Joel, meeting his eyes a few times during the story, watching him go from annoyed, to concerned, to slightly irritated. He let you finish before asking further questions.

"Are you okay?"

You nodded, "Yeah. Just hit my back."

Joel frowned, "How?"

"I tried to get to Tommy after he got pushed to the floor, but that idiot threw me against a pole," you let him know, the scowl on his face only deepening. His wrinkles weren't just a sign of age. This man had been frowning too much in his life. Yet, it somehow suited him.

"You don't wanna get that checked? You sure you're okay?" He asked you further, but you just continued to nod.

"I drove here. I'm fine," you shrugged it off. Joel just sighed again, looking around the room before he continued.

"Anyone called the cops?"

"Probably," you answered him honestly. You didn't know for sure, but there was a high chance that you just got out quick enough. His deep breath in and out made you remember the reaction the two officers brought out of Tommy. "But I don't know. Maria said she'd handle it. My friend at the bar," you quickly added.

Joel glanced at you, his elbows digging into his thighs. "That's nice of her. Thank you." But you just nodded again.

Carefully, you decided to get closer. "Tommy mentioned something about a new job..."

"Yeah," the older brother sat himself up straight, letting himself fall back into the chair, "I got him a job at the company I work at. Just carpenter stuff, but... if they find out he was involved in a bar fight," he shook his head, "I don't know. My boss already took him in just because I practically begged him to."

"I see," you answered him, just letting him know you had been listening.

"Thank you for staying here with him. And for bringing him. And thanks to your friend for handling the whole police-" Joel began to ramble, but you were quick to stop him, subconsciously just putting your hand on his upper arm.

"It's okay," you smiled up at him, getting a thankful nod and soft smile in return.

It was only then it hit you.

Not only did this man have the responsibility of raising a nine-year-old girl, but he also was taking care of a man in his mid-to-late twenties. Letting him live with him, making sure he had a job, and picking him up from a hospital after a bar fight. You could see the tiredness on his face, and it didn't only have to do with the fact that he had to get up in the middle of the night. It was years old tiredness. You know it from your father. Carrying the world on his shoulders, dragging him, not letting him live to his full potential. The constant instinct to care and worry following his every step.

On one side, you couldn't help but find it attractive, his primal instict of protection, but on the other, you felt deeply sorry for him, you realised. If he hadn't been a met-three-times 'stranger' you would've offered him a hug. He looked like he could need one.

joel taglist: @corvusmorte @aniia-x3 @skysmiller @lizlil

pedro taglist: @leslieelainetrask @sidelnes

#tlou #the last of us #series #couldn’t love more #Joel miller x reader #Tommy miller #Joel miller #hbo!joel miller #Pedro pascal #x Reader #Pedro pascal!joel miller #fluff #pre-outbreak!joel #hbo!tlou

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devourers-of-god · 4 months

Note

Can I get some soft domestic HCs w/ Ash Sally and Larry pls?? Like them sharing an apartment with their s/o and its just soft n lovely,, I love ur blog so much 💕

Hello hi after 3 years hope you’re still alive ! Thank you for the compliment I hope it didn’t change😭🩵

MY REQUESTS ARE VERY MUCH OPEN!

Ash: 🪻💜🦕

- BREAKFAST. IN. BED. She knows your favourite coffee and breakfast order by heart and won’t ever forget it.

- You guys cook together and clean the dishes while listening to good music, a few dance breaks are needed.

- You guys like to match outfits ( so cute)

- Netflix and chill nights happen quite often and she makes you watch Twilight.

- Couch cuddles after a long day >>>>

-Shared chores around the apartment but will help you with yours if you need any help.

-Falls asleep in your arms every night and will massage your back when asked.

Sal :3 (im now on computer and can't find any emojis lol)

-Cooks for you everyday without missing a day!

-I feel like he would be a clean freak... but not too much, he just likes when things are organized to make sure you're happy living with him.

-Play guitar for you and he makes his own songs specially for you.

-Makes you bubble baths whenever you have a long shift at work.

-Let you brush his hair and braid it however you'd like, he knows it makes you happy.

-Movie nights at least once a week.

Larry :P

-You paint his nails a lot because it suits him.

-Paints/draw you a lot while you do chores or just sitting around.

-Smoke sesh all comfy in bed :3 cuddles are followed!

-Dance sessions are a must! He always make you discover music.

-Big spoon you, but sometimes demands to be little spoon.

-He's bad at cooking but tries to make you breakfast (the toasts are burnt), its okay because he's cute.

-You guys make pillow forts at least once a week while high, and he would cancel plans for that activity.

Hope you guys kinda liked this one... I miss when sf got popular a while back but at the same time...no not at all!

stay safe friends, I love you all :) my requests are open !

#sallyface #todd morrison #sally face #larry johnson #ashley campbell #sal fisher #sf #travisphelps #sally face hcs #sally face headcanons #sally face oneshots #sally face fanfiction #sally face fanart #Larry x reader #Ashley campbell x reader #Travis phelps x reader #sal fisher x reader

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mistydeyes · 10 months

Note

can you do ‘morning sun’ with simon and female reader pls? 🌄💜

How could I ever say no to some nice casual morning sex with this handsome soldier ;) Hope you enjoy!

link to the prompt list and 1k celebration!

morning sun (18+) - you have nowhere to go and decide to spend it in bed ;)

pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader

warnings: SEXUAL DEPICTIONS (sex pollen mentions so beware its getting X-rated), swearing

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊�� ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊

Having Simon home was a mixed experience. While you loved having your boyfriend safely in your shared flat, you hated that he still maintained a militaristic routine on leave. You would hiss as you felt the warm sheets get ripped off and Simon insisting it was time to wake up. However as you turned and grabbed your phone, you were surprised to see it was already 9 am and Simon was still snoring loudly at your side. You thanked the copious amounts of liquor from the day prior as Johnny drank your boyfriend under the table. You took a moment to take in his peaceful sleeping face before gently trying to wake him up. You touched his shoulder gently and his eyes shot open. "Jesus, do you ever sleep?" you joked as he slightly rubbed his eyes. "What time is it?" he mumbled as he tried to get out of bed. You tugged on his tattooed arm and he turned to you. "It's too late for breakfast and gym, Si," you began to say as he began to grow more alert, "but how about we stay in bed for a little while longer?" He looked at you for a moment as your eyes pleaded with him. "Why would we do that?" he replied curtly. As you started to pull down your underwear, he knew the direction this was going.

He got into bed cautiously and you took the opportunity to sit in between his parted legs and admire the sight in front of you. Even with his disheveled morning hair, he still looked carved from marble. You dragged a finger down his chest as he watched intently. You reached the brim of his briefs before you looked up at him. "Let's take these off, yeah?" you questioned and he nodded as he slid them down. "Have a wet dream or something last night, Riley?" you joked and before he could reply with a snarky comment, you lightly gripped his base. He hissed into the morning air as you guided his hands to your hair and encouraged him to hold it back. You started with long, painstakingly slow licks from the base of his cock to his head as he fell back into the soft mattress. You eventually wrapped your mouth around his head and swirled your tongue as you could feel the grip on your hair get tighter.

"Fuck," he groaned out as you took your hand and began to move it in sync with your head bobbing. At first, you only sucked his tip gently and you could feel him grow more impatient as he tried to direct your actions. You pulled your mouth away as his eyes fluttered open. "I don't need instruction, Lieutenant," you said playfully before returning to his soaked cock and forcing him deep in your throat. He audibly groaned and gripped the sheets with his free hand as you could feel him hit the back of your throat. You hollowed your cheeks as you continued to increase the pace. You occasionally moaned and the vibrations brought him closer to orgasm. As you heard his breath quicken and his grip tighten on your hair, you used your other hand to grip his chest before forcing yourself further down. Your nails dug into his muscles as he held you in that position, letting out a string of swears and groans as he reached his climax. As you rose your eyes to look up at him, you could feel his grip as your saliva mixed with his watery semen. His grip loosened as you swallowed and you removed your mouth before looking at him. He was panting as you got on top of him and dragged a finger along your wet lip. "Fuckin' hell," was all he could say before you prepared for round two and gently descended onto him.

#cod mwii #mw2 imagine #task force 141 #mw2 #simon ghost riley #call of duty #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley angst #madebyizzie #task force 141 x reader #cod x reader #call of duty modern warfare #izzie is drawing #modern warfare 2 #izzie is writing #izzie celebrates 1k

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specialagentlokitty · 2 years

Text

Damon x reader - just want you to be okay

Can i request a damon x reader where they have a huge fight then reader threaten him that she’s gonna leave him? A fluffy ending pls 😙😙 - Anon💜

“DAMON JUST STOP!” You yelled.

“NO! NOT UNTIL YOU SEE SENSE AND STOP BEING SO STUPID!” He roared back.

He nursed a glass of whiskey and you were trying to decide if he was angry because he was drunk or because he was just mad at you for making the choice you did.

“I TOLD YOU NOT TO GO BY YOURSELF! IT WAS DANGEROUS AND YOU DAMN NEAR GOT YOURSELF KILLED!”

“WHAT CHOICE DID I HAVE! HE WOULD HAVE KILLED BONNIE!”

Damon scoffed and shook his head, taking a swig of his drink as he glared at you.

“SO YOU WOULD LET YOURSELF DIE INSTEAD?!”

“SHE’S MY BEST FRIEND DAMON! ELENA DOES IT ALL THE TIME!”

“ELENA KNOWS THAT SHE’S DOING!”

You stared at him in shock.

“You don’t think I know what I’m doing? Walking into a room full of original vampires? You don’t think I went there without any weapons or without backup, I went with Stefan and Alaric for god sake!”

Damon slammed his glass down on the desk, shattering it, whisky spilling all over the floor as he spun around to face you.

Damon stared at you with a mixture of fury and shock.

“You told them but not me?!” He whispered lowly.

“Because you wouldn’t have let me go Damon! And Bonnie would’ve died!”

“I don’t care!”

You stared at him in shock, you never thought he would ever say such a thing.

“Seriously?”

You shook your head in disbelief and grabbed your bag as you started to shove clothes into it.

“What the hell are you doing?” Damon sighed.

“Leaving Damon. That’s what I’m doing I can’t be doing this.”

“Fine! Leave! Runaway! Just like you always do!”

“I am! I’m leaving you!”

You had tears burning your eyes and you grabbed your bag and stormed out of the bedroom and down the stairs.

Just as you reached the front door Stefan walked in and took one look at you.

“(Y/N)?”

“Don’t.”

Storming past him, you walked down the drive, not even bothering to ask Stefan if he could drive you to your friends house.

No, you walked the entire way there, and by the time you reached Bonnie’s place you had tears streaming down your face as you lightly knocked.

Within seconds it was opened and Bonnie pulled you inside and hugged you lightly.

“Stefan called me…” she whispered.

“I can’t do this with him anymore…” you sobbed.

“I know… I know…”

You fell to the floor and Bonnie dropped down with you, her arms tightly wrapped around you as she tried her best to comfort you.

For the next couple of days you stayed in bed, just ignoring your phone as it rang, and Bonnie rejected any calls from Damon.

She kept everyone away from you, not letting anyone in so you could have your own space and time to think.

“How’re you doing?” She asked softly.

You gave a small shrug and showed her your phone, hundreds of missed calls and a whole bunch of unopened texts.

“Damon?”

You have a small nod this time.

“Jesus, I’ve never seen him do anything like this.” She said.

“Me neither, should I call him back? Let him know I’m at least okay?”

“No. No, you’re doing the right thing and I told him you were safe.”

“He can’t get in can he?”

“No, that’s why he’s been parked in the driveway for two days.”

You blinked in shock and quickly sat up.

“What?”

Getting up you threw a hoodie on and rushed down the stairs and tossed the front door open.

True to her words, Damon was sat fast asleep in his car and you quickly slammed the door closed again.

“He hasn’t even tried knocking, just sat there.” Bonnie whispered.

You nodded your head.

“What’re you going to do?”

“Honestly I don’t know… I don’t.. I don’t want to end it with him bonnie.. but I can’t.. I can’t have him saying that sort of stuff about you guys..”

Bonnie smiled and placed a hand on your shoulder.

“He’s just worried about you, he doesn’t want you to get hurt. No, he shouldn’t say he doesn’t care about his but he cares way more about you than he does anyone else.”

You sighed and peaked out the door again.

“I’m going to talk to him…”

“I’ll keep the door open just in case.”

You nodded and slowly slipped out, making your way over to the car you walked over to his door and stood there for a few seconds.

You debated if this is what you really wanted to do and slowly you sighed.

Turning around you started to walk away but you stopped when you heard the car door quickly opened and close and Damon was right in front of you.

“(Y/N)…” he sighed.

Damon reached out slowly wrapped an arm around your waist and he pulled you into him, placing his other hand on the back of your head.

He held you so gently, so tenderly as if he put to much pressure you would just break in his arms.

“I’ve been trying to call…” he mumbled.

“I know…” you replied softly.

Damon pulled away, hands running down your arms before he gently took your hands in his and he kissed the back of your knuckles before he let them go again.

Then he cradled your face between his hands and kissed your forehead.

“If you want to end this that’s up to you, but I’m always going to wait for you, okay?”

He let got for good this time and took a few steps back, awkwardly looking away.

“I’ll drop your stuff off here, and I’ll ask Stefan to help you take it wherever you want.”

With that he started to walk away.

“Damon wait!”

He stopped and turned back around.

“Damon I… I don’t want to end this…”

Damon closed the car door again and you walked over, standing in front of him.

“I don’t want to end this Damon.. it’s just.. I need you trust me.. let me protect my friends… let me do things on my own…”

Damon looked at you and sighed to himself.

“I just… I want you to be safe.. okay? I want to know you’re okay and protected…”

You laughed a little this time and walked over, placing your hands on the back of his neck.

“Damon, no one is going to dare to hurt me with you protecting me, okay?”

Damon grinned and wrapped his arms around you again, pulled you flush into him.

“Then come home? You stink and need a shower.“

“Seriously Damon?” You laughed.

He hummed and opened the passenger side door for you.

“Come home with me?” He asked.

Leaning up you gently kissed him and took him a few steps away.

“Let me get my stuff and say bye to Bonnie.”

“Right, I’ll be back in twenty minutes.”

You nodded and Damon left, heading straight to your favourite food place to pick up the order he placed just before you came outside.

He was going to do everything he could to make this up to you, and the first step is to give you your favourite food

#the vampire diares imagine #the vampire diaries x reader #the vampire diaries imagine #the vampire diaries #damon salvatore x reader #damon salvatore imagine #damon salvatore

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rosewaterandivy · 11 months

Note

https://youtube.com/shorts/QuNRoe29bPA?feature=share

Something like that? PLS

Love you <3

Wow, thanks so much for the request! I tweaked it a bit to fill one of the prompts from here, hope that's okay. Love you 💜

83. “Stay there. I’m coming to get you.”

When you told him what you and Eddie would be up to Saturday night, Steve groaned so loud you could swear the couch vibrated.

You can’t be serious. And leaving me at the mercy of the gremlins?

“Yes,” you grin, “I’m sure the Harrington babysitting service can handle it.” And then you’re off to get ready for the party. “Knowing you, you’ll probably have some hot date booked for after you’ve dropped the gremlins off.”

It’s not that Steve worries, really he doesn’t, because you’ll be with Eddie and Robin will show up at some point, so at least you’ll be safe. But Saturdays were for movies with the party, taking full advantage of Steve and Robin’s (five-fingered) employee discount at Family Video and hanging out.

Recently, it’s been the only time when he can see you—busy with work and classes and helping Eddie with his GED. All your free time was accounted for, used up, leaving nothing left for him.

He tried (and failed) to be accommodating about it.

This resulted in frequent calls to your house, which your mother or father usually answered with thinly veiled annoyance (Sorry Steve, she just left. No, I don’t know when she’ll be back), interrupted study sessions at Forest Hills (Eddie’s exasperated, ‘Dude, what the fuck. You’re infringing on my right to an education here.’), and drop-ins while you were working at the diner.

In short, it was becoming a problem.

So when you mentioned, last minute mind you, that Eddie needed a hand dealing for a party this weekend and you’d agreed to help out, Steve took it about as well as could be expected.

Which is to say, not at all.

It’s bad enough that he’s making them watch Rocky IV, according to Dustin. But Steve pays him no mind and pops the tape into the VCR. The kids grumble and complain, but otherwise occupy themselves by half-watching the saga of Rocky and Drago.

His leg won’t stop bouncing as he reclines against the couch. It continues for the whole movie. When the film concludes with Apollo’s tragic demise, Max starts sorting through the rest of the tapes.

“What else is in here?” Throws out a few titles as she sees them, The Color Purple, 101 Dalmations, Out of Africa—

“Nope!”

Steve nearly hip checks Lucas in his haste to wrestle the tape from Max. They grapple for a bit, nearly coming to blows but Steve’s not about to hit a child and a girl at that. This sense of chivalry does not stop Max from smacking him upside the head, but he’s victorious in the end.

“And why can’t we watch that particular one?” Dustin ventures with a curious glance to Lucas before Steve settles back on the couch between them.

“I’ll, uh,” he stashes the tape behind the sofa, wedges its case against the wall. “Tell you when you’re older.”

Dustin and Lucas continue to eye each other warily.

Then El pipes up, “Friends don’t lie.” And before Steve can stop her from what will inevitably be an embarrassing calamity—

“It’s a … sad movie,” she continues, “The last time he watched it, he cried.”

Oh. Shit.

He wants nothing more than to bash his head against the wall, but can’t risk another concussion according to the doctors and literally everyone else. Maybe the earth could swallow him whole instead? Anything to end this humiliation.

“Didn’t you watch that with—” Mike begins, because he is an asshole.

“Oh yeah,” Dustin confirms, “They watched it like, a few weeks ago. I mean, her crying I get,” he turns to Steve, an incredulous look on his face, “But you—”

“Robert Redford is a good actor, okay?” He rushes to defend himself, “Very convincing.”

“Okaaayy,” Max drawls.

An uncomfortable silence ensues. The kids settle on watching Clue while Steve takes an opportunity to refill drinks and snacks. Tries to ignore the furtive whispers from the living room. Tries to focus on the popcorn in the microwave and not imagining what you may be up to at the house party with Eddie.

“Why don’t you just ask her out already?” Will says when Steve returns from the kitchen.

The group falls silent, awaiting his response. Keep your cool, Harrington. He sets the bowl of popcorn on the table, doing his best to ignore Will’s probing question. Is almost successful until—

“Steve, you’re literally in love with her.”

He scoffs at Lucas’ blatant betrayal. Helped the kid practice everyday after school leading up to tryouts and this is how he’s repaid?

“No,” he says with a tone to convey the end of this conversation. “We’re friends, just friends and that’s it.”

A beat of silence as everyone pretends to watch as Tim Curry greets the six strangers upon their arrival to the mansion.

Dustin coughs. “Friends don’t look at each other the way you look at her, Steve.”

“Oh my god.” Max looks like she wants to brain herself on the edge of the coffee table at the stupidity of it all.

“Fuck off.” Steve huffs in annoyance, “Like I’m gonna take advice from a bunch of high schoolers.”

“Dude.”

“We’ve saved the world.”

“Like, multiple times.”

“And,” El annoyingly points out, “It’s good advice.”

Thankfully, Steve is saved by the bell. The phone trills its ring from somewhere beneath the couch cushions. Unable to find the cordless, he’s forced to answer it in the kitchen.

“Harrington residence.”

There’s music thumping and cross chatter down the line as he tries to make out who’s calling.

“Steve?”

“Rob, that you?”

A laugh, “Yeah, s’me. How you doin’ babe?”

Her voice has taken on that light, dreamy cadence it gets when she’s tipsy or high and, knowing her, it’s probably both.

“Uh, fine.” He turns to check on the kids in the living room, “Watching Clue. Did you need something?”

“Oh my god,” she rasps, “I love that movie!” A hiccup followed by a chuckle. “Nah, I’m good babe. I’m calling for someone else.”

He doesn’t know what to make of that.

“Rob, you know you called my house, right? The kids are here, if you wanna talk to them but—”

“Nonono Stevie,” she says in a rush, “M’callin’ about your girl.”

“My… girl.”

“Yep.”

The sounds of the phone being handed off to someone else. A few breaths and then, “Hi Steve.”

And oh.

Your voice is low and breathy through the phone, he can hear you giggling about something to Robin as you pull the speaker away from your mouth ‘I’m on the phone Buckley.’

He melts, just a bit. Because he knows that tone very well— when you fall asleep leaning against his shoulder during movie nights or take a brief nap sitting shotgun in his car, all raspy and sweet.

“Hey honey,” he coos, voice incredibly fond. Steve turns, closing himself off from the din in the living room. “Y’doin’ okay?”

“Mmhm, tired though.”

“Is that right?’

A yawn. “Yeah,” he can hear the pout in your voice, “Rob doesn’t wanna leave yet and Eddie went upstairs with someone like, forever ago.”

Steve’s already grabbing his keys from the counter. “Stay with Robin, okay? I’m coming get you.”

“Thanks Stevie,” you sigh prettily, “You’re the best.”

Dustin (unhelpfully) advised him to get flowers before he left, so Steve put Max in charge, out of spite. Which unfortunately broke the levy for a barrage of romantic advice from literal children: hold the door, make eye contact, give her your jacket and be on the left side of the sidewalk.

It’d be endearing if it wasn’t so tragic.

He rolls up to the house to find not only Robin, but Eddie too, at your side seated on the sidewalk. He crosses the hood of the car as you stand with a soft smile, “Sorry Steve,” you say, less sloshed since the phone call, but still tired. “Didn’t mean to ruin your night.”

“C’mon honey,” he scoffs, “There’s no way you could ruin my night.” He ushers you to the passenger seat, arm around your waist. He can smell the beer from the keg and stale cigarettes on you, laced with the comforting scent your perfume.

He shuts the door after reminding you to put on your seatbelt and turns back to Eddie and Robin. They look like they’re up to no good— Eddie’s smirking and got that glint in his eye that says he’ll be a problem, all the while Rob has a dopey grin on her face.

“She’s had water and we took the drinks from her a while ago,” Eddie says, waving back at you from the sidewalk. “Try to have her eat something.”

Steve rolls his eyes. Like he needs advice from a dungeon master on how to deal with a drunk.

Robin blinks owlishly, “Ooh, Hardee’s, get her that.”

Steve laughs as Eddie shepherds Robin away. Says something about not fucking it up and using protection. He can’t bring himself to care as he slides back into the car. The radio kicked on as he starts the car, David Byrne rhapsodizing about a girl as she was.

He watched as you bop to the song in your seat, bringing an affectionate smile to his face— eyes closed, hair whipping back in the cool night breeze as you sing along. The axels squeak when Steve pulls into the drive-thru lane.

Try as he might to keep his gaze on you, to watch you a little longer, the intercom sputters to life—a young boy’s voice greeting mechanically but trying nonetheless to adhere to Hardee’s hospitality best he can.

The burger you’d gotten—medium, double meat, bacon, all toppings between—has completely fallen apart in a splat back onto the wax paper in your lap.

“Here, honey.”

He fumbles for napkins. But you wave his worries away, licking your fingers before diving in to deconstruct your food.

“Sorry—I promise I have my shit together.” Another giggle, “Not doing well here. Makin’ a mess your car and everything.”

“I, uh, I think you’re doin’ great.”

The words slip out before he can catch them and around a mouthful of fries, you thank him, and then you take a breath, and he can literally see you winding up for another enormous bite.

“Sorry,” you pause sheepishly, “M’ starving—skipped lunch on accident.” You take the enormous bite he saw coming, and then, “Also doesn’t help—mm—nervous.”

Steve chews on a fry and slurps his soda, driving with ease. “Nervous ‘bout what?”

You swallow and steal his drink, “Weren’t you on a date?”

He blinks.

You blink.

He blinks again.

“No, I was watching movies with the kids.”

His face is so hot that he thinks someone must have thrown a fire into him. Should he have just gone along with it instead? It’s old news by now that King Steve had turned in his crown for a walkie-talkie and chauffeuring a bunch of teens around.

A beat passes and he tries again, now at the end of the meal and the stain on your shirt starting to sink in and spread, heavy enough to dip toward the skin beneath. “Do you want to take your shirt off?”

You choke on soda and add another splatter down your chest, “What?”

“You can wear my jacket,” he clarifies. “Give it back later. I mean, if you…” He frowns. “Uh. Um.”

The beemer comes to a stop in front of he Harrington house. Lights still on in the living room signalling that the party is still there.

You changed out of your shirt, ducking down in the front seat bashfully (“Look away, damn it.”), your old t-shirt in a crumple inside his pocket. His jacket hung a bit loose, but zipped up all the way and it was a good enough cover for a while.

There’s a smear of grease on your cheek from the burger and Steve knows it’s just a personality trait at this point. He laughs when you stick your tongue out, trying to find exactly where it is before giving up and asking him to wipe it off.

He shoves his hands in his pocket afterwards, thumb jammed inside his fist like a souvenir, keeping it there the rest of the walk up the drive, all the way up to the front door of his house before he wonders if he should have been trying to hold your hand.

Maybe not.

“I missed this,” he says, brushing his shoulder against yours.

You hum, knocking your hip against his. “Thanks for dinner,” you say, looking up at him.

“Yeah, of course.”

“And picking me up.” A beat passes. “And the jacket, too. It’s really nice… comfortable and, uh, smells… good. Like, cinnamon and… nice body wash and… trees.” You make a queasy face and close your eyes for a second, pinching the bridge of your nose uncomfortably as Steve looks on.

Oh, he realizes. You must be woozy.

Oh, he realizes. You’re gonna hurl.

“Steve,” Your voice is small and tight, and you look like you’re struggling to take steadying breaths. “I gotta sit down.”

“Right,” he replies. You laugh, rubbing the back of your neck before he turns and unlocks the door.

The kids are passed out on the sofa and reclining chairs in the living room. He locks the door and sneaks you upstairs, hands politely on your waist to steady you on your feet. Guides you to the left toward the guest bath and flips on the lights.

“You alright?”

The fluorescents cast you in a hazy yellow glow, squinting at the bright light. You paw at the countertop for something, water? You turn to open a drawer and find a spare toothbrush— the blue one, yours, a freebie from a check-up and gloop some toothpaste on the bristles. With a nod in response, you begin to brush your teeth, faucet running as you fill a cup of water.

Steve leaves you with a clean washcloth and towel, should you need them, and goes to check that his room isn’t a complete disaster. Bed sheets are clean-ish and he doesn’t have time to run them through the wash, though there’s always one of the guest rooms…

“Hey.”

He startles slightly, not hearing you walk in. You’ve toed off your shoes by the door and are looking sheepish, lip pulled between your teeth. “Can I borrow some clothes?”

“Yeah, sure.”

Steve pulls open some drawers, rifling through for something for you to sleep in. Throws your top into his hamper while he’s at it. He turns back to you with a ‘Hawkins Athletics’ shirt that’s seen better days and a pair of flannel pajamas. Shoves them toward you awkwardly and then promptly turns around to let you have some privacy while you change.

“Thanks.”

He makes a strangled noise of confirmation and clears his throat. “No problem.”

Hearing the rustling of sheets, he turns back around and catches sight of your bare leg as you hunker down in his bed. Heat rushes to his cheeks when he spies the pajama pants neatly folded and placed on his nightstand. You turn on your side, burrowing and fluffing the pillows to your liking.

Steve makes quick work of brushing his teeth and getting ready for bed. Shoes by the door next to yours, jeans shucked into a pile by his desk, keeps his shirt on for the sake of decency, and slips in next to you.

“I appreciate you coming to get me, y’didn’t have to do that.”

His arm drapes against your shoulder while you snuggle into him, casual affection being the norm between you two. He swallows thickly, tries to regulate his breathing when your hand rests against his chest.

“What’re friends for?”

“Hmm,” you consider for a moment. “Friends may not be the most accurate term.”

Steve bristles at that.

“What do you mean?” He turns toward you, heart racing— did you not want to be friends anymore? Did he do something wrong?

Your face is impassive, blank. Steve couldn’t even begin to guess at what you’re thinking, is afraid to even try.

Then, you smile.

Fuck. That smile.

“S-so, not friends then?”

Steve is not a religious man, but he prays that your smile means what he thinks it does. Slowly reaching toward you, he brushes a lock of hair from your face, fingers grazing your cheek.

Mischievously, you lean in, touch him soft on the lips and every beat of his pulse seems to be seeking out the sweet plush of your mouth. “If we were just friends, I shouldn’t wanna kiss you so bad, but we both seem to be … not good… at following decorum, so…” Your eyes light up teasingly, “What d’ya say?”

Steve makes a noise like a whimper. Wow. Babysitter extraordinaire with a bat of nails under his bed and it’s your smile that does him in.

You kiss him again, longer than the last, giggling softly and tugging on his bottom lip like you could pull his entire body toward you with just that. “I’m sure we could find a few more rules to break.”

#steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #stranger things fanfiction #reader insert #ways to say #steve harrington fluff

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tangerinni · 10 months

Text

Bro "Jiang Cheng is not a tsundere" what the f*ck LMFAO "he never shows his soft/kind side" bro pls 😭😭😭 you know NOTHING about tsunderes. 😭😭

A tsundere will smack you in the face with medicine when you're sick (knocking you to the floor ofc) and angrily tell you all huffy: "Huh? I guess even idiots can get sick. Here I found these on the floor somewhere! It's not like I bought them for you or anything so don't get any ideas!" before storming off all shy and blushy as fuck (which is CUTE!! LIKE THE MOEEEE) and the dere part is!!! 🗣🗣🗣THE FACT THAT THEY BROUGHT YOU MEDICINE!!! 🗣🗣🗣🗣🗣IT'S IN THE ACTION 👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻

Y'all are too soft to handle him stay safe in your lane with your kuudere/deredere combo!!! 😭😭 don't let Jiang Cheng hurt you I'll handle him!!! (All for your sake only ofc 💜💜💜) Anyways these two are my girls!!! My top tsundere girlies!! Jiang Cheng definitely belongs in the tsundere club!!!

#jiang cheng #canon jiang cheng

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girlboypersonthingy · 1 year

Note

Omg if you want can you write the fluff alphabet for Keith pls??? 💜

FUCK YEAH I LOVE ME SOME SOFT KEEF ❤️‍🔥 Thanks again for the rq anon 😘 Got the fluff template from @the-coldest-goodbye cuz I’m lazy 🙃

Keith- Fluff Alphabet 💌

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Okay, in public or in front of like literally anyone, he’s not super affectionate. He’s still nice to you and will occasionally reach for your hand in front of other voltron members. He just doesn’t like PDA very much. He doesn’t like the attention it draws to him. Behind closed doors tho…omg this boy is like so clingy. He just wants to hold you for the rest of his life, you’re so nice to hold. He likes to show affection physically rather than emotionally. He’s kinda dumb when it comes to this romance relationship stuff, he has a hard time explaining his feelings so he’d rather show you how much he loves you with hugs and kisses and cuddles and gentle touches.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

You guys had to have clicked right away when you met. I’m sure Keith is difficult to befriend let alone date so he probably really enjoyed your company and support as a friend to keep you around. He probably felt really safe and at ease with you, like he could be his true authentic self around you. You guys really lean on each other. And because he feels so himself around you, you fall for the purest version of Keith, the real Keith. And he falls for your loyalty and kindness and faith in him.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

KEEF LOVES CUDDLES WITH U OMG. Like I said, he’s emotionally constipated and has a hard time voicing his love for you so he shows it instead and due to your busy schedules, you only get alone time at night before bed and early in the morning if you’re both up before your alarm. So every night before you both doze off and every morning about an hour before your alarm goes off, he’s stuck to you like a koala on a tree branch. It’s the best couple hours of his entire day, everyday. He will cuddle you in any way he can. He’ll be the big spoon or the little spoon, he’ll hold you while you’re facing each other, if he’s in a good deep sleep he’ll lay his head on your chest or stomach with an arm slung over you as he snores. He just wants to be touching you. He needs the physical contact.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Yes and no. Keith definitely wants this war to be over and he wants to go home and have a normal life with you but he’s also never going to give up on helping his friends protect the universe. If he had to, he’d stay in space forever just to protect all of it. But he does occasionally daydream about you and him living together somewhere in the desert or the country maybe where there’s not a lot of people and it’s quiet. Keith is a mess in the kitchen, please keep him away from the stove. He can help you cut stuff up or make the salad but other than that, he’ll burn everything and anything you ask him to cook. Cleaning on the other hand, he can do that. Just imagine this…Keith wearing old scrappy clothes with his hair pulled back by a headband or bandana and he’s deep cleaning your whole apartment/house with those big yellow dish gloves on. Omg hes ur housewife. Sure he can be messy and disorganized at times too but he’ll roll up his sleeves and deep clean when it’s obvious it needs to be done. Just plz cook for him and he’ll clean for you.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

If Keith had to break up with you, I seriously feel like he would still want to be your friend. As much as Keith blows up and loses his temper, the break up would be soft and slow and gently. He wouldn’t want to lose you completely so he’d ask you to be his friend still. So things didn’t work romantically…it’s fine, just don’t leave him behind. He still has love for you. He’ll always care about you.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Keith ain’t the marriage type. He’s just one of those people who thinks marriage is stupid and pointless and too expensive and dramatic. He doesn’t need a big fancy ceremony or a piece of signed paper to prove his love for you. Screw it. He’s gonna call you his wife/husband/partner/spouse no matter what anyone else says. If you really want to get properly married tho, he’d agree and go along with it to make you happy. But he’d be in charge of the guest list…which will only have like 10 people on it bc he also doesn’t like crowds or big parties.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Physically, he’s so gentle with you. He’s always worried he’s gonna hurt you or make you uncomfortable. He holds you so tenderly, he kisses you so lightly. Keith spends most days fighting off training bots, sparring with Shiro and often engaging in battle with an actual enemy. When it comes to you, he treats you like a one-of-a-kind piece of stained glass. You’re the one person he’s soft with. Emotionally…he’s stubborn and short tempered and easily overwhelmed. He’ll snap at you every now and then, he can’t help it. He’s never mad or annoyed with you, it just comes out in his voice and his gestures are harsh as he speaks to you. He tries very hard to be patient and understanding with you. He’s really trying. Give him a break plz.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Keith loves your hugs, it’s one of the most comforting things you can offer him. He likes to hug you a lot, he’ll just randomly hug you throughout your day. But when he’s upset or frustrated or feeling stressed and scared, he’ll hug you really tight and for a while. He’ll just hold you close, arms wrapped fully around your torso as he hides his face in your neck or shoulder. Hugs make him feel so much better, they remind him that he is real and has feelings and that someone cares about him.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

I think Keith would wait a while to actually say it to your face. He would be really nervous and wouldn’t want to rush things or make you feel like you have to say it back. In the meantime, he often slips the phrase to you sneakily and without grabbing your attention first. He’ll mumble it to himself after you finish a good round of training with him and he’s glowing with pride at how amazing you are. He’ll whisper it softly when you fall asleep next to him. He’ll mouth the words as he hugs you tightly, imagining how the words would sound if you said them back to him right now. He just needs time…

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Keith gets extremely jealous but not all the time. He sees you talking to some cool alien or even joking around with Lance, he’s whatever about it. He trusts you so he’s not worried. Now if another galra tried to approach you, oh boy is there gonna be a fight. It’s just a galra thing, he feels that they are more of a threat bc he is also part galra. One time, another member of the blade was standing just a little too close to you and Keith didn’t know what he was saying to you but he just had a bad feeling about it. But he wasn’t trying to flirt with you at all, he was actually asking about Keith and how long you’ve know him, just small talk. Keith stomped over and straight up pushed you behind him, glaring at his teammate in front of him. You had to explain that it was all innocent chit chat and calm him down. Yeah, he’s dramatic asf when he wants to be. He’ll kill a bitch for you, no hesitation.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Kisses with Keith are always soft and slow and lingering. He doesn’t move at a fast pace, even when making out. He takes his time and enjoys it and cherishes the moment. He’s also not sure exactly how to kiss so he goes slow and follows your lead. It’s not often that you two kiss, only in the privacy of your room when you both know you won’t be interrupted or occasionally you’ll share a lingering gentle kiss in the hangar in front of the team after a long and scary mission. Keith loves kissing your lips, he likes that he can feel you kiss him back. He’ll kiss your cheeks and forehead sometimes but he craves the feeling of your lips returning the gesture, ya know? He really likes when you kiss pretty much anywhere that’s not his face. Kiss that boy on the shoulder, neck, back, hands or arms and he’s a flustered mess. Not that he minds face kisses from you tho.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

He’s so awkward omfg. He is kind of on the fence about kids. He likes them but he’s unsure how to act around them. He mostly just listens to kids ramble about stuff and he smiles and nods along and offers the occasional “oh really? Wow. That’s crazy.” He would like a kid of his own one day but not anytime soon. He needs time to learn and mature before he has his own kid.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Pretty much every morning with Keith is spent the same way…he’ll wake up earlier than the alarm is set just to cuddle and love on you before you have to go about your busy day. This (and at night before you guys fall asleep) is the only time you two can really spend quality time together. Fighting in an intergalactic war leaves very little time for you two to hang out and bond. So he loves sleepy, early mornings with you where neither of you talk, you just hold each other and place soft kisses on each others face.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Nights go pretty much the same way as mornings. The first hour that you two are awake and the last hour or so before you two fall asleep is spent in silence while you just hold each other close and cherish the moment. You don’t get much time to be clingy and romantic so bed time is the best time. He’ll plop into bed with you and wrap you in his arms as you’re both dozing off.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Keith would take some time to fully open up to you. I’m sure he probably took a while to open up to Shiro too. He’s just a closed off, secretive kind of person. He doesn’t want his business on display for everyone to know. As friends, he probably told you about his home life and his dad but it wasn’t until you two had been dating for a while that he finally let down his walls and told you all of the things that weigh on him. He trusts you with his life now.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

👀 boy has a very short temper and gets very easily annoyed and over stimulated. He’s definitely snapped at you before and he will most likely snap at you again. He’s always quick to apologize and try to explain himself. He just loses it sometimes, there’s a lot going on and he has a hard time coping. He’ll bottle everything up and stay quiet until it all boils over and explodes out of him. He snaps at pretty much anyone and everyone, don’t take it personally. He’s even yelled at Shiro before. He’s working on it tho…he swears.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Both??? He’ll definitely forget things every now and then, sorry he’s got so many thoughts in his head at one time, sometimes the things you tell him go in one ear and out the other. BUT he does remember a lot about you too. He’ll never forget the gorgeous color of your eyes and your favorite food and your favorite color. He’ll remember many cute moments throughout your relationship but also if you mention that one time that one thing happened, he’ll be like “I did? Oh…okay if you say so.” He might forget an anniversary or your birthday too, don’t be mad. He’s really sorry…just remind him and he’ll make it up to you, pinky promise.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

Keith’s favorite moment in your whole relationship is when you first kissed him. It wasn’t on the lips, you had kissed him on the cheek when he was frustrated with not being able to beat a certain level on the training simulator. He was just having a moment, shouting out in anger as he flopped down on the floor. As he tried to catch his breath, you approached him without saying a word and sat in front of him with a sweet smile. He watched you for a second before you leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek then followed it with the words “Don’t give up. Keep trying…I believe in you, Keith.” He’s pretty sure that’s the moment he knew he really loved you and he also knew that you really loved him back. He felt so stupid and ugly in that moment of weakness and anger but you showed him unconditional love anyways. He’ll never forget that.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Keith is very protective of you, especially when you are out in the middle of battle with the team. He often insists that you and him stick together regardless of what Shiro or Allura have to say. He’ll protect you by keeping a close eye on you and having your back when you need him. You do pretty much the same for him. You watch out for each other always.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

As far as dates, anniversaries and gifts, Keith’s terrible. He’s never been in a relationship before so he has no idea what to do. If you give him ideas and share what you are planning to do for him, he’ll take mental notes and learn from you and then he’ll try his best those things. With everyday tasks tho, Keith is the sweetest and most attentive partner ever. He asks you how you slept every morning, he’ll ask you if you’ve eaten yet today, if he hasn’t seen you around all day he’ll go searching for you just to check up on ya. He’ll bring you water in the training room if he’s not already there with you, he’ll kiss you every morning and every night, he’ll play with your hair and gently scratch your back when you’re stressed or upset, he’ll listen intently when you need to rant or when you’re excitedly explaining something you like to him. He’s a great bf, he’s so involved with you. Such a sweet pea ❤️‍🔥

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Keith loves to shut himself off from you, especially when you’re having a bad day yourself. He feels like a burden sometimes, like he’s damaged goods that you never asked for. He knows he can trust you and confide in you but he worries that he’ll only make you more overwhelmed and stressed if he tells you how he’s feeling. Most of his bad days are spent avoiding you in hopes of not burdening you with his moody attitude. You always end up finding him and convincing him to open up to you. Once he gets it all off his chest tho, he feels soooo relieved. He just doesn’t want you to ever feel like his feelings matter more than yours.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

NOT AT ALL. He doesn’t give a fuck, especially with you. I mean…you guys are already dating and he’s never been super into his appearance so ??? why would he start worrying about it now? He has other things to worry about. He’s clean and well kept so …what now?

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Yesssss, he’s a wreck when he’s away from you for too long. It’s one things to be away from you all day, but when missions are going on for days or weeks at a time with the blade of marmora, he gets so depressed and also so much more irritated. You’re the light of his life so when he can’t see you for several days in a row, he starts to unravel. You just bring him so much peace of mind, without you he doesn’t know how to cope with his emotions. He has no one else to talk to…💔

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

HE SLEEPS SO FUCKIN GOOD WITH YOU IN HIS BED NEXT TO HIM!!! You’ve walked in on him sleeping before and he’s pretty quiet, but whenever you sleep beside him, bro snores like a bear as he clings to you. Sometimes he wakes you with his loud ass snores and his aggressive snuggling but he’s having the best sleep of his entire life rn, you can’t bring yourself to wake him. One time, you gently nudged him awake and whispered “You’re snoring so loud. Turn on your side.” And he straight up went “Huh? Oh…okay.” then fell right back into his loud snoring a second later. Sorry but you kind of signed up for this.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

The only turn off for Keith is a liar. If he can’t trust his partner, he doesn’t even want to be with them. He wants you to be able to tell him anything and he wants to be able to trust you with everything. Just don’t ever lie to him and there’s nothing that can tear you two apart.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

Not only does this mf snore loud as hell and suffocate you with his cuddles but he also drools sometimes. One time he drooled on your face and the grossed out scream that came from you startled him awake. He apologized profusely but you just had to tell the rest of the team about it the next morning. He’s never gonna live this down, it’s just too funny.

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