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#there's TWO of you why can't one of you stay home or in the car with the kids so you're not blocking whole aisles???
endeline · 2 days
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Let The Light In: Part 2
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Part 1
Words: 1,598
Pairing: Paige Bueckers/Media Manager! Reader
Warnings: Angst, Friends to enemies to lovers (but the reader doesn’t know why they’re enemies), reader is actually so in the wrong, slow burn.
“Is that Paige Bueckers?” The guy sitting next to you nudges your elbow, his eyes fixated on your computer screen. 
He didn’t need to ask you to confirm that it was her, as if the massive ‘5’ on her jersey and those unmistakable blonde braids didn’t provide enough context clues. But, you indulge him anyways, turning back to the screen of your laptop as if you need to double check who’s picture you’re editing, before giving him an affirmative hum and re-focusing your attention on the exposure curve that’s been giving you trouble all morning. 
Unperturbed by your lackluster reply, he leans out of his seat, inching closer, and letting out a sharp whistle as he gets a better view “damn, that’s good. You take it?” 
“All mine.” You reply hastily, reaching over to pat the camera bag next to you.
“Are you on the media team or something then?”
You just nod, casting a quick glance in his direction while his eyes stays fixated on the image of the girl on your screen until you swear you can see drool forming in the corners of his mouth. 
“You know this should go up on the posters they have around campus” he says, finally leaning back into his chair. 
It’s almost like he knows that stroking your ego is surefire way to get you to soften up. 
You turn to him, a hint of a smile playing on your lips now; “if you think that you should go check them out next week, there might be a few changes you'd like.”
An impressed look passes briefly over his face before returning to a cocky smirk. “You know, you’re doing her a favor, she looks way hotter in this than the ones that are up right now.”  
Guard all the way back up, you turn to him, doing very little to hide your disgust. Without a word, you scoop up your belongings and move to another spot, eager to distance yourself far, far away from him.
However, as you settle into a new seat and reopen the familiar photo, a reluctant thought crosses your mind: 'He's not wrong.' 
Flashback 
"Hey, you awake?” Paige's voice is barely audible over the soothing hum of the air conditioner. You’re half asleep, nestled comfortably beneath the blankets, and all you can manage is a low, affirmative hum in response.
"I can't sleep," she whispers again, this time poking your cheek to ensure you’re paying attention. 
"Count sheep.” 
A loud groan echoes through the bedroom as Paige turns over to face you. 
“We should do something." 
You pretend not to hear her, keeping your eyes shut. 
“Wake up, wake up, wake up” she intones, pulling the covers off your chest as she sits up in the bed. 
"Let's go for a drive."
You peek one eye open, glaring at her. "Paige, please, for the love of God, just let me sleep." She keeps her mouth shut, but you can feel her gaze on you as you pull the covers back over yourself. 
After two blissful minutes of silence, a soft "please" brings you back to consciousness. Opening your eyes fully now, you stare at her.
"Paige, I'm really tired." 
"I'll let you have the aux, and you can bring your blanket," she offers, nudging your shoulder gently, trying to coax you out of bed.
With narrowed eyes, you meet her gaze, her face is illuminated by the moonlight streaming through your open blinds, and with just that one glance, any remaining sibilance of a resolve is shattered.
"An hour tops, and if I fall asleep again, you can't wake me up until we're home." 
A soft smile crosses her face. "Deal." 
Before you really know what’s happening Paige has an arm wrapped around you, practically skipping as she drags you, half asleep and wrapped in a quilt, through the parking lot to her car. She turns your seat heater on, connects your phone to the car, and lets you choose a playlist before pulling out onto the main road, interlocking your fingers, and letting your hands rest on the center console.
"Dude, come on, really?" she groans as your sleep playlist begins and the sounds of an artificial rainstorm flood the car. 
"I'm going back to sleep," Is all you can manage to say in your fatigued state, leaning your head against the window and shutting your eyes once again. 
You don’t wake up again until sunlight has begun to shine through the trees lining highway, urging you to peek your eyes open, the gentle shake of the car almost lulling you back to sleep before you realize where you are. 
"Paige, you've got to be kidding me," you groan out after catching a glance at the 6:45 A.M. flashing on the car’s dashboard. She looks at you briefly, a sheepish look passing over her face. "You're awake." 
“I am.” You respond, not doing anything to hide your anger.  “Where the hell are we, Bueckers?" You ask before turning to look at her. 
As your eyes meet hers, a soft “Oh” escapes your lips, and suddenly, where you are doesn't matter anymore. 
With your camera, you could have captured every detail—the way the morning light seemed to dance across her blonde hair, the delicate shadows her eyelashes threw across her under-eyes, mingling with the dark circles from a restless night. She looked beautiful.
It could be the best picture you'd ever taken of her. - And if you hadn’t been so clueless and absorbed in your art, you’d probably be paying a lot more attention to the miserable expression across your best friends face instead of the light that was hitting her perfectly.
"Wait, hold still," you whisper, your tone softening as you reach for your phone and point the camera at her. “Just let me get this shot.”
_________
It takes a few seconds for you to dig your phone out of the bottom of your backpack where it had been left it in an effort to prevent distractions, but once you’ve found it you waste no time in opening the favorites album in your camera roll, holding up the image from that morning next to the one on your laptop. 
‘Oh’
Side by side, the pictures are nearly identical. 
Without realizing it, the two of you had recreated the last picture you had taken of her before the two of you stopped talking, before she stopped talking to you. 
In this new version, a stark black backdrop replaced blurry trees seen through a car window, and artificial orange and pink lights substituted the natural sunlight. Yet, in this new photo, her expression remained unchanged—those firm glares and pursed lips staring back at you from both screens. A heaviness settled in your chest as you set the phone aside and shut down Lightroom.
‘I’m not doing this right now.’
It was undeniable that you still missed her, even though the two of you had barely spoken in the past year. And despite all of your friends telling you that you should be furious at her for essentially ghosting you, your feelings haven’t changed. 
Pure, unbridled misery. That’s the only way to really describe it.
The day you realized your best friend wasn’t ever going to respond to the 20+ ‘read’ texts and missed calls from your attempts to reach her was one of the worst days of your life. 
Paige had just gotten the OK to return to campus after her ACL surgery, you had been on your way to try and visit her when Azzi had knocked on your dorm room door. 
“Oh, were you on your way out?” She had questioned, seeing your outfit and the purse in your hands. 
“I was gonna go check up on Paige I heard she was back.” Pausing before you add, “actually I’ve been meaning to ask if you had heard from her? She hasn’t gotten back to me yet and I’ve called like a million times.” You ask, forcing a chuckle to mask the stress bubbling beneath your words.
Azzi's expression hardens, her eyes avoiding yours. "Listen," she begins, her voice heavy with reluctance, "that's actually what I came to talk to you about."
"Oh?" Your voice rises slightly, a mix of confusion and apprehension.
She takes a deep breath, steadying herself. "Paige doesn’t want you reaching out to her right now. She needs to focus on getting healthy again."
"Oh." The word escapes your lips softly, tinged with hurt and disbelief, as the weight of her words settles in your chest.
The memory fades but the unmistakable hurt is still coursing through you as you close your eyes for a moment, letting yourself breathe.
It had been a mistake to let your guard down.
“You good?”
The voice you’ve been longing to hear for the past year interrupts your thoughts, sending a familiar pang through your chest as you look up, locking eyes with the blonde, her brows raised as she looks down on you with an unreadable expression. 
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kpop---scenarios · 1 day
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Whiplash (6)
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Pairing: Felix x Reader x Hyunjin
Genre: Street Racing, Gang, Friends to Lovers
Warnings: Sexually Suggestive Things, Language, Jealousy, 18+ ONLY
Word Count: 4.2k
Taglist: @sheala--marie @kayleefriedchicken @chartrucewhore @cookiesnmilfx @thicccurls @aznstoner @velvetmoonlght
One | Two | Three | Four | Five |
“You're fucking psycho if you think I'll ever be back in this house again.” You spit. “Who are you? The San I knew would never have done this! Never would have drugged me!” You scream.
Felix and Hyunjin stare at you like they have just seen a ghost.
“I-I never drugged you!” He stuttered. “Are you sure your brain is working?” He laughs.
“There's no way I'd sleep for 12+ hours without you slipping something into my water. I knew it tasted funny!” You yell.
“You mother fucker!” Felix yells, lunging for San. Hyunjin grabs onto him, holding him back. He knows it won't do anyone any good for them to fight, especially you. As angry as he was right now, he knew he needed to do what was best for you and Felix getting into a fight with San would surely not be good for your recovery.
“If I see you out, you better watch your fucking back. I'm sick of you and your shit with Y/N. I swear to god if you touch her again ill fucking kill you.” Felix screams as Hyunjin pulls him outside, with you following closely behind.
Felix pulls himself out of Hyunjin’s grip, walking a little down the short walkway, taking deep breaths to try and calm down.
“I'm sorry.” you whisper. Felix turns around, he looks confused. Hyunjin stares at you in disbelief.
“Sorry for what?” Felix asks, walking closer to you.
“for everything. For believing San over you guys, for coming here, for just everything that I put you through the last little bit.” You cry.
“Listen to me.” Hyunjin starts. “You didn't put us through anything. HE put you and us through hell for his own sick enjoyment.” Hyunjin tells you. You can hear it in his voice how angry and upset he is at the moment.
“Never apologize for this. This wasn't you at all.” Felix chimes in. “So don't feel guilty, don't be upset and don't ever think we're mad at you for any of this.” He finishes.
The three of you walk to the car, Felix opening the passenger door for you before climbing in the back while Hyunjin takes the driver's seat.
“Now.” He starts. “We can go to the house or your apartment, which one do you want?”
“My apartment please.” You breathe. “I begged San to take me there but he wouldn't. I just want to be home.” You say. Hyunjin smiles as he starts to drive in the direction of your place. They were so fucking happy that you had come back to them, but they couldn't help but wonder how long they would have you for before something went wrong, because in their life, something always went wrong.
“Ah, my bed!” You squeal as you lay down gently in your bed, making sure not to hit the still tender wound on the back of your head.
“Are you hungry? Thirsty? Is there anything we can get you? Do you want us to stay? Go?” Felix asks. He really hoped you would ask them to stay.
“Please stay. I don't wanna be without you guys.” You smile. “I know we're really just starting out this relationship and already so many things have happened..” you pause. “So if you want out, tell me now.” You finish, holding your breath.
They both look confused again.
“Out?” Hyunjin asks.
“Why would we want out?” Felix asks.
“Because. Like I said. So much has happened.” You mutter.
“I've waited years for you baby, I'm not going anywhere unless I'm 6 feet in the ground.” Felix says.
“Yeah, you wanna get rid of me love, you're gonna have to kill me.” Hyunjin winks.
How did you end up so fucking lucky? You usually weren't the one to have the happy ending but maybe now things are finally changing for you?
You get under the covers in your bed, patting either side for the boys. They crawl in with you, snuggling up to you. You can't help but fall asleep so quickly, feeling so safe and loved right now. Over the next week you spent almost all your time in bed with Felix and Hyunjin waiting on you hand and foot. By the end of the week you felt back at 10p% and you were so grateful for them. As the three of you went to bed that night, you had a plan for the next day and you hoped they would be on board.
**
You wake up in the morning, feeling refreshed and sweaty. You have Felix’s arm draped around you with Hyunjin’s leg pinning you down. Your head was kinda sore but not as bad as it had been. You were finally feeling more yourself but you knew you needed to take some advil or something to alleviate the soreness you were in. You felt normal again and you loved it.
“Felix.” you groan, poking up. “Hyunjin. Move. My head is sore. I need something.” You say. Both men shoot up in bed, scrambling out and each running in a different direction to find you something. Minutes later Felix comes back with medicine while Hyunjin appears with some water.
“Perfect.” You smile, taking the pills and water. “Thank you. But you know you really didn't need to rush. It's just a small headache.” You giggle.
Felix looks at his phone, then looks back at you. “The guys want to see you.. I guess Chan is really beating himself up about this.” He sighs. You crawl out of bed, looking for some clothes.
“Well let's go then.” You say, grabbing an outfit to change into.
An hour later you're sitting outside the house. “Are you sure you're up for it?” Hyunjin asks.
“Definitely.” You smile. You wanted your normal life back and you needed them to stop treating you like you were a fragile glass doll. You were more resilient than they knew. The three of you walk up to the door. When the door opened, there stood 6 men with smiles on their faces to greet you.
“I'm so glad you're back, Y/N. Once you're up for it I want a beer chugging rematch.” Han laughs, wrapping his arms around you.
“You wanna lose again?” You giggle, moving on to Changbin who squeezes you tightly.
Seungmin and Lee Know both give you a quick hug, murmuring something you didn't quite catch, while Jeongin pulls you in tightly as well. You walk over to Chan, who's standing a little ways back from the group, his head hangs low as you approach him.
“I should have told the cops it was San..Y/N I'm so sorry for this whole thing. It's my fault.. I should have..” he continues to say, but you cut him off.
“Chan, stop it. You couldn't have known how things were going to turn out. I was fine and then I wasn't but I'm okay now. And I hope you know I'm not mad at you and I don't hold any of your decisions against you.” You say. You open your arms, pulling the sad man into you. He wraps his arms around you tightly, sniffling into your shoulder.
“Alright, alright.” Felix says, pulling you away from Chan. “She needs to rest now, go on.” He says, shooing the man away.
“Lix, I'm fine.” You smile. He looks at you like he's going to melt.
“Lix, huh?” He grins. “I like it.”
“Do you?” You say, matching his grin. You lean in closer to him, your lips brushing against his ear. “My Lixxie.” You whisper.
“Oh baby.” He groans, his deep sultry voice coming out to play. “You're just asking for it, aren't you?”
You turn your head, smirking as you look at Hyunjin. “You think I'm asking for it Jin?” You wink. He chuckles as he walks towards the two of you. “Mhmm, Jin? I don't know.” He sighs.
“How about Jinnie?” You whisper.
“I could get used to that.” He grins.
You lean in, your lips so close to touching before Chan pipes up.
“ Sorry to interrupt boys but we've got business to take care of.” He says, looking at Hyunjin and Felix.
“A race?” You question, looking between the two men.
Hyunjin and Felix both glance at each other before Hyunjin sighs. “Yeah there's a race tonight. But we have some things to take care of beforehand.” He says, looking at Felix.
“Stay here. We'll be back as soon as we can, okay?” Felix smiles.
No. You didn't want to stay. You were better, you wanted to go.
“I'm coming.” You say. You flashback to the last time you went and what happened. But you couldn't be afraid forever.
Felix and Hyunjin knew that they couldn't control you and if you said you felt ready then you were ready. They just hated the fact that they couldn't protect you while they raced.
“Fine. But while we race you need to stay with Chan and Changbin, okay? San will likely be there.” Hyunjin sighs.
You nod your head, excited to be able to see them race again. You stayed at the house while they went out and did whatever they needed to do before the rave, when they were done they swung by the house and picked an excited you up and headed out.
The crowd was larger than you remembered. There were more people racing this time and the spot was a lot bigger. You felt sure that with this many people in this big of a place you wouldn't see San.
“Who's racing now?” You ask Felix as the two of you sit on the bed of someone's truck, watching the tires spin and burn while the flag drops and the cars peel off.
“That would be Got7 in the blue car, I think it's Jinyoung driving. And then it's Lucas from NCT in the yellow one.” Felix says, sliding his arm around your shoulder.
Hyunjin walks over to the two of you, hopping up onto the truck beside you, resting his hand on your thigh.
“We're up next. We race against whoever wins this one.” He says. You were nervous, you always felt nervous when they were racing. The chance that there was an accident was really high with how fast they go.
The three of you walked hand in hand towards their group, Got7 had won so they were racing against Jinyoung.
“Be safe.” You sigh, giving both of them a kiss. You link your arm with Chan's as you watch them both walk away. Your eyes scan the crowd, looking at all the people here who were watching, and your eyes landed on someone familiar.
San.
Your body tenses up so much that Chan notices. He looks where you were looking, your eyes locked in with San's.
“It's okay Y/N.” Chan says, rubbing your arm. “We're not going to let anything happen to you.” He smiles. Felix and Hyunjin peel off, the race starts. You knew San was going to be here but it still affected you and you really hadn't thought it would have.
A few minutes later you notice the rest of the guys standing in a half circle, talking to someone. Chan glances over and immediately a grin plastered across his face. “I'll be right back.” He says, pulling his arm from yours and walking over to the others. You stand there alone, peeking over to see a very beautiful girl that they were all talking to. You had no idea who she was but they were all clearly smitten with her. You looked through the crowd again, but didn't see San anymore. You started to calm down a little bit now, feeling like maybe he had left.
Until you feel someone grab your wrist and try to pull you. You look over, seeing San with your wrist in his hand, pulling you towards him.
“Come with me please.” San says, pulling a little harder.
“No. Let go of me.” You say, trying to yank your wrist from his grasp.
“Y/N stop, I just wanna talk.” He says. He starts walking towards the trees, dragging you with him. You turn your head.
“Chan!” You yell. He doesn't hear you. “Chan!” You scream a little louder. He puts up a finger, “just a second, Y/N.” He yells, not even turning around. You didn't have a second.
“I just want to explain!” San grunts. You're getting too close to the trees. Panic sets in. What did you do?
Scream. Scream Y/N.
You let out a loud, ear shattering scream. Chan and the rest of the guys all turn around, looking for you in horror. Chan sees you, San's hand covering your mouth as he drags you into the trees. He, Changbin and Lee Know run towards you, luckily grabbing you before San could get too deep. By the time they reach you, the race is over. Felix and Hyunjin had won, but instead of staying in the car to wait for the next race, they bolted towards the commotion they saw happening with you. They reach you just as Chan pulls you away from San.
“What the fuck is wrong with you!?” Chan yells.
“I just wanted to talk to her!” San yells, defending himself.
“You okay, baby?” Felix asks, giving you a once over.
“How did this happen?” Hyunjin yells. “I thought you were keeping an eye on her!?”
“I was! I was talking to Jennie.. just for a minute.” Chan says.
“I yelled for you! You told me just a second!” You breathe.
Chan hangs his head. “I'm sorry, Y/N. I really didn't think he would try anything.”
“Hyunjin, you go race, I'll stay with Y/N.” Felix says, wrapping his arm around you, taking you away from the group. He had never been more angry at his leader than he was at this moment. The two of you sit there, your head resting on Felix's shoulder. You watched Hyunjin in the car waiting for the race to start. He looks over at you, blowing you a kiss. You grin as you blow one back to him. Felix takes his finger, placing it under your chin, turning your face towards his. He smiles at you before leaning in, placing a tender kiss on your lips. You feel like you're going to melt with the way his lips feel on yours.
He breaks the kiss as he hears the crowd screaming, Hyunjin was racing San. You could feel your anxiety in the pit of your stomach. If San did anything or tried anything, you swore you would kill him.
Hyunjin takes off, you watch as he speeds off leaving San in the dust. You watch intensely where the cars come around the bend for the finish line. You were desperate to see Hyunjin come first. After minutes of waiting, you see him. San closely behind him. Hyunjin switches gears, The car takes off even faster, crossing the finish line well before San. The crowd erupts in cheers. You get off the truck, running towards Hyunjin. You push through the crowd of people and he grabs you, picking you up in a hug, spinning you around. He sets you down, kissing you passionately before the guys come over to celebrate.
“We're going to the club tonight!” Chan yells. “Time to celebrate!” Everyone cheers. You turn around, seeing a defeated San walk towards his group. You almost felt bad for him. Almost.
**
Later that night, you were dressed and ready to head to the club. You were so excited to go and dance with your boys, drink, let loose and have a great time.
“Ready?” Felix asks as he walks into the room.
“Ready.” You smile, walking towards him. He lets out a whistle as he grabs your hand to twirl you around.
“Wow.” He gasps. “Hyunjin.” He yells. “Come here.”
Hyunjin walks into the room wearing a black dress shirt tucked into his black pants, same as Felix and they both looked so fucking good.
“Jesus.” Hyunjin grins. “So sexy.”
You can feel the blush creep across your face as you giggle at the compliments. “Let's go, you two.” You say, grabbing both their hands to drag them out of the room.
“You sure?” Felix asks as you tug him along. “We could just stay home? There's a few things I can think of to do.” He smirks.
“Yeah, it would be a lot more fun.” Hyunjin agrees.
“We're going to celebrate you two. Shush.” You giggle.
The club is packed. You walk in feeling the bass pound through the floors, the smell of sex and sweat fills the air. The three of you make your way to the bar, ordering a few different shots. This felt nice, being out. It felt normal which you loved. After some shots you three made your way to the dance floor. Hyunjin behind you, Felix in front. You hadn't drank in so long that it didn't take very long for the booze to kick in. You stuck out your ass, grinding it onto Hyunjins crotch while Felix was between your legs, his body pressed up against yours. The whole thing was extremely hot, and it made you even hornier than you were to begin with. the feeling of both their hands roaming your body, Hyunjin's breath on the back of your neck, Felix's breath on your ear. You'd let them fuck you right there.
After an hour of dancing, you excused yourself to the bathroom. You could feel your pussy was dripping wet for them and you couldn't wait to get home tonight. You come out of the bathroom, searching for Felix and Hyunjin. You look around and finally see them standing side by side talking to the same girl that had been at the races. You could see her laughing, throwing her head back as she touched both their arms. That pissed you off. You make your way to the bar, sitting on a stool, ordering a drink. You barely notice the man sitting beside you. The bartender sets a drink and a shot beside you. You grab the shot, turning around in your seat to watch your boyfriends with Jennie. You wondered how long it would take for them to notice you hadn't come back yet or if at all. Maybe they were so immersed in the conversation with Jennie they completely forgot they had a girlfriend. You take your shot, setting it down on the bar before grabbing your drink and turning back around again. You're sipping on your drink. And sipping. And sipping. Until you're done and they still haven't noticed. You turn around, ordering another shot and another drink, turning back again to watch them.
You take your shot and before you can turn to grab your drink, there's a man standing in front of you.
“Hello.” He smiles.
“Hi.” You say back staying straight faced.
“Are you here alone?” He asks.
“No.” You deadpan, looking around him to see Hyunjin and Felix.
“I'm talking to you.” He laughs, moving in front of your view.
“And I'm not interested.” You snap, looking up at him.
“Woah, calm down.” He laughs. “Let me buy you a drink?”
“I have a drink.” You sigh.
“Wanna dance?” He asks.
“No.” You say. “Go away please.”
“Ah, just come dance.” He laughs again, grabbing your wrist.
“Bro.” The guy next to you snaps. “She's not fucking interested. Move along.”
“Okay, bro. Is she your girlfriend?” The man asks.
“Doesn't matter if she is or not. She doesn't want to dance, she doesn't want a drink, move the fuck on.” He says, removing his hand from your wrist. The guy scoffs before leaving you alone finally.
“Thank you.” You say looking over at the man who helped you. You squint your eyes, looking a little closer. “Jinyoung?” You ask.
“Yeah?” He responds, looking at you funny.
“You were at the races.” You say. “You raced against Hyunjin and Felix.”
“Yeah I did. Oh! You're their girlfriend. That's right. I remember you.” He says.
“Thank you again for helping me. I appreciate it.” You smile.
“It's no problem. Where are those two anyways?” He asks.
You nod your head in their direction. They were still talking to Jennie and you were fucking annoyed.
“Ah.”
“I've been waiting to see how long it takes for them to notice I haven't come back from the bathroom. And this is embarrassing.” You sigh.
“That sucks. She's such a fucking cunt too.” He laughs. “She puts on a good show of being nice and flirty.”
“I don't want to be jealous. But I am. Cunt or not, they haven't even turned their heads to even peek for me. I'd love to make them jealous.” You laugh.
“Do you wanna dance?” Jinyoung asks. “I'm all for helping out.”
You grin at him as you nod your head. Maybe they won't forget about you to flirt with someone else next time. Jinyoung grabs your hand, pulling you towards the dance floor as you quickly chug your drink. He pulls you past Felix and Hyunjin, you turn your drunk head to smile at them, sticking your tongue out as you get to the front of the dance floor with Jinyoung. In their line of vision perfectly. He places his hands on your waist as you dance with him, moving your hips seductively. You can see the instant anger plastered across both their faces. You weren't sure if it was because you were dancing with another man, or because that man was Jinyoung. You continue to dance, giggling as you stick up your middle finger to them both, making them both slightly laugh. They walk away from Jennie, who turns to watch them, looking offended that they just left in the middle of a conversation.
“Y/N.” Felix says, using his deep voice.
“What?” You ask, still dancing.
“What are you doing?” He asks.
“Dancing.”
“Why are you dancing with another man?” Hyunjin asks.
“Why are you two flirting with Jennie?” You ask, now glaring at them both. “I've been out of the bathroom for 45 minutes, watching you two, neither of you wondered where I was?” You scoff.
“Baby..” Felix starts.
“Don't baby me.” You scoff. “Jinyoung here saved me when some creepy man was trying to force me to dance with him. Where were you two?” You slur.
You turn around facing Jinyoung who had been silent the whole time you'd been talking to them. You keep dancing, only for a second before Hyunjin pulls you away from Jinyoung. You turn to look at him, mouthing a ‘thank you’ as you giggle at the angry men guiding you away. He just laughs.
“I don't need help.” You say, pulling your hands away from them.
“I didn't like that.” Felix says as the three of you get outside. “Seeing you with him.”
“I could have beat the shit out of him.” Hyunjin says.
You say nothing, you just keep walking, both men behind you. You can hear them whispering but you can't hear what they're whispering about. Until you're grabbed, and dragged into an alley. You're pinned against the wall as an angry Hyunjin and Felix stare at you.
“Did you like it?” Hyunjin asks. “the feeling of his hands all over your body.”
“Did you feel his cock on your ass as you grinded with him?” Felix asks.
“Yes and yes.” You say, smirking. You wanted to rile them up. You loved it when they were jealous. You push them out of the way, continuing to stumble your way back to the house. You looked down and then back up, and Felix stood in front of you. He swiftly picks you up, throwing you over his shoulder. He walks the opposite way you were and sets you down inside a car.
You had forgotten they drove here. Felix slides in the backseat with you. You lay on your back, propping yourself up with your elbows as Felix lays semi on top of you. Hyunjin races to the house.
“I don't ever want to see another guy's hands on you ever again.” He whispers in your ear. Hyunjin pulls up to the house in record time, helping you out of the car as Felix gets out on the other side. Hyunjin pins you against the car.
“You're gonna be in big trouble if you ever do that again.” He says, placing kisses down your neck.
“Am I not in trouble now?” You gasp.
“Oh you are.” Felix smirks.
“Well so are you guys.” You say, walking towards the house.
Once you're inside, Felix slams the front door shut. The house is quiet. Everyone else is still out. You slide off your shoes, walking towards the kitchen. Felix grabs you, turning you around, pressing you against the wall. He smashes his lips to yours, kissing you harshly as he pulls up your dress. Hyunjin comes over to the two of you, peppering kisses over your neck as Felix pulls down your panties.
“After tonight, you're not going to want any other man to touch you.” Felix grunts.
This is what you had desperate been waiting for, and you couldn't fucking wait.
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born-to-lose · 2 years
Text
In my depressed era again <3
#for literally no reason ugh i hate it i hate it i hate it#probably a bad mix of overthinking and lovesickness again but what's new#i figured out why i like to do stuff until late at night until i fall asleep lol it's because i don't wanna be left alone with my thoughts#i guess that's why i could go such a long time without you know what... i always had lots of schoolwork to do and didn't have much time to-#-think about this kind of shit and once i don't have anything to do anymore i found myself in bed with a bleeding arm lmao#also let's call this my 'everyone i know hates me and my best friends despise me the most' era#still gonna stay up two more hours because i'm like a damn puppy who waits excitedly for their favorite person to come home from work#at this point i should maybe write all this shit in a diary but like. you know how my rambling posts start so y'all can just ignore#tldr i'm feeling like shit and i can't promise that i won't do something stupid again#i'm just too hung up on things that happened weeks ago but like what if it isn't actually ok now#also i know i'm too clingy and possessive with people i'm really close to but it's just my abandonment issues :(#and i know i fucked things up with other people (friendships and relationships) way too many times so i'm putting all i have into this one#still i feel like it's too much and too little at the same time idk i just Know when i really like someone and then i don't wanna lose them#but at the same time i often drive them away with my excessive love and attention because certain people are like some addiction to me#ok no that's too much already for now sorry#anyways i'm sobbing and shaking and feeling terrible and guilty#oh and unrelated but i nearly got run over by a car today 👍🏻 fucking hate drunk small town students in a mcd's parking lot#mel talks#tw self harm
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weird-is-life · 2 months
Note
pregnant reader and Spencer fic where he makes her cry on accident 😭😭
Hii lovely, ty for the request🥰! Hope this is okay, warnings: fluff, kisses, like one swear word, reader cries (not because of something bad tho, it's cute), use of pet names (0.6k)
Spencer is running late at least later than he'd told you he would be and he can't stress it more. You've been home alone almost the whole day, and Spencer knows you are probably more than lonely.
But even if he's already late Spencer makes one more stop to get some groceries before heading home to you.
When he finally arrives home, he can't stop apologising as you greet him by the door, the baby bump very visible underneath one of his sweaters.
"Hi sweetheart, I'm so sorry I'm late there was a problem we needed to deal with," Spencer apologises and kisses your cheek.
"It's okay, Spence," you say into his shirt, already hugging him tightly, "I missed you a lot though."
Spencer looks at you like he always does with a too loving smile, "I missed you two, too."
Spencer ushers you towards the couch, he doesn't want you to be standing for too long 'cause he knows your feet would hurt, and also because he intends to cuddle you as much as possible there.
He quickly unpacks the groceries, and remembers the snacks he's bought for you. What he doesn't know is that you've been craving exactly the same snack he's bought the entire day.
"Here I got you these sweetheart," Spencer gives the snacks to you and rushes to the bedroom to change into something much more comfortable than the suit.
You stay still, your eyes filling up with tears as you hold the snacks in your hands.
When he comes back to you, he finds you eating the snacks while the tears run down by your cheeks.
"Woah, woah, woah, what's wrong?" Spencer immediately sits next to you, and starts to wipe the tears away.
"I just....-" you start with small hiccup, "I just love you so much."
A warm chuckle escapes Spencer's mouth, before he's back to comforting you. He's read every single book there's on pregnancy, so he knows how tough it is with the changes of hormones.
"Oh, baby, I love you too is that why you're crying, huh? Or is it something else? Maybe me being late?" He really hope it isn't the latter.
"N-no, I just-... I just really wanted these snacks all day, Spence," you tell him as another set of tears escapes from your eyes, "a-and they are too good."
"Oh sweetheart, if I knew you wanted them so badly i would have bought more," Spencer tells you with a sympathetic smile.
He understands it can be a lot for you from time to time, even if it's something as simple as craving some snack, so he let's you eat your snacks while he wipes away the tears. He does that until the snacks are gone along with the tears.
You look just unhappy about finishing the snacks as you did minutes ago eating them. You give him a puppy eyes, and Spencer is up on his legs before you can even say his name.
"Spencer...?"
"Don't worry, lovely. I got it, I'll buy you more than enough," Spencer quickly gives you a kiss, and goes to put on his shoes, car keys already in his hand.
"Spence?"
"Yes?" he looks back at you so fucking lovingly completely unbothered about the fact that he has to go to the shop again that you think you might start crying again (Spencer loves you so much that it happens a lot, you crying about how much you love him).
"Of course, but only if you really want to. I don't mind going alone."
"I want to," you say enthusiasticly. That is all Spencer needs to take your shoes, and go back to you. He puts the shoes on for you, kisses your bump, and helps you get up.
"C'mon, sweetheart. I'll get you anything you want if you tell me about your day, " Spencer happily listens to you chatter about everything that crossed your mind through the day.
You and Spencer leave the shop with way too many snacks, but it's okay because you're happy as one can be and that's all Spencer needs, okay maybe the cuddles too.
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dreaming-medium · 2 months
Text
No Contact
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader
Word Count: 7.6k
Tags: ANGST with a happy ending, amnesia, memory loss, grief, pining, yearning, hurt/comfort
Summary: It was one of the worst car accidents the city has seen. You weren't supposed to be in that car, but you were. When you lose your memories from the incident, Chan is ordered to stay away for your recovery's sake; but it takes a larger toll on him than anyone could have imagined. Until one day, he just can't take it anymore.
A/N: inspired by this post. Angst ahoy <3 I had too much fun writing this. Maybe I like writing emotions. Enjoy <3
—————————————————————
No contact. That’s what Chan was told was best for you. That’s what was going to help your healing process. 
No contact whatsoever. No texts, no calls, no little surprise visits. No fucking contact. None. 
He was told it would just hurt you if he talked to you— that he would just make it worse. That you would only become more confused and upset. It would be absolutely detrimental for him to see you.
Hell, it might even make you worse. 
It’s killing Chan slowly. Every single day feels like torture for him. The days get exponentially worse. He feels like a hollow shell of his former self, like the wind goes through him when he steps foot outside. It feels like his shoulders are permanently sagged forward. 
But the worst part is that you don’t even know it. You don’t know how he’s collapsing inwards like a dying star. 
It was one of the worst car accidents the city has seen in years. A friend was driving you home that night; Chan had begged to be the one to pick you up, but no, you said it was fine, the friend was heading that way anyway. Why make the unnecessary trip?
You told him he needed sleep. Always putting his needs before your own. You always did. 
He should’ve put up more of a fuss. He should’ve put his foot down. He should’ve already been outside the house in his car with the passenger seat warmer on by the time you left that stupid party. 
He should’ve gotten out of the car and opened the door for you and had a cold bottle of water waiting in the cup holder. He should’ve kissed you on the cheek and asked you all about your time. He should have been there.
But he wasn’t. 
A drunk driver slammed into the passenger side of your friend’s car at a speed that you shouldn’t have even survived.
Miracles do happen, though. But what a price to pay for a miracle. 
For as long as he lives, Chan will never forget the sheer panic and terror he felt when the call came in from your mother. You were already at the hospital undergoing emergency surgery.
He was the last to know. 
After all, he wasn’t your emergency contact. He’s only your boyfriend.
Was. Was your boyfriend. Was? Is that the right word? He isn’t. But he is. There was no breakup. 
Is that what he’s going through right now? A breakup? 
You’re not on a break. But what is this? What is this loss? This severance is so horrible. 
It’s fucked up. It’s a fucked up, amnesia induced breakup. 
Memory loss is a funny thing. Doctors scratch their heads and shrug their shoulders without any answers. The brain is a tricky thing. 
Chan did what he was allowed to in that hospital. He sat in that stark white room under those harsh LED lights and he waited until you were awake. He even waited much longer after that because only two visitors were permitted inside your room at a time— and he wasn’t about to force his way in and kick one of your parents out. 
He let your sister go in first. He even let your cousin go in before him. But when it was finally his turn… 
He never got to see you. 
“The last five years?” Chan asked with a tight throat. Did he even have any more tears left to cry? How is there any liquid left in his body?
“She says doesn’t remember anything, Chan.” Your mother’s voice was just as hollow as his. “She was asking about her freshman roommate.”
A doctor stood in between him and your mom. “It’s best if we don’t throw everything at her at once. Amnesia victims rarely never get their memories back, but we’ve found that it needs to happen organically. Seeing her will overwhelm her and that could stunt the healing process.”
Chan’s mouth opened and closed several times but no words came out at all. His heart may have stopped. 
Does that mean…?
No…
“He can’t see her at all?” Your mother asked quietly. “Not even to visit? He doesn’t have to mention he’s her boyfriend, he can just say that he’s a friend, or a coworker, or—“
The doctor cut her off. “No contact. Not until we’re a bit through recovery and she’s starting to get her memories back.”
Chan was suddenly in a chair. 
When did he sit down? The Doctor’s hands were on his shoulders and he was looking down at him with a sympathetic stare.  
“It’s not forever, son.”
Chan was only able to nod. His mouth was so dry, the back of his neck felt clammy. His head was spinning.
Books often speak of moments as ‘Earth-shattering’. Of moments so catastrophic that the planet stops spinning on its axis and time stands still.
He gets it now. 
The doctor spoke a few more words to your mother before walking away. She looked down at Chan sadly. 
Your mother sat on the chair next to him and wrapped him up in a hug. His world was falling apart around him. You were slipping through his fingers. He couldn’t even see you.
Hot tears poured down his face while he sat there with his head in his hands. Why does it feel like he’s losing you? Why is this the only way? Why are these the cards that are being dealt?
Why didn’t he pick you up from that fucking party?
“She loves you, Chan… she’ll come to her senses, I promise, I promise.”
It’s been two months, one week, two days and eight hours since he’s talked to you. That long since he’s known peace. Since he’s known any sort of comfort. 
You’re the last thing he thinks about before he closes his eyes at night and the first thing he thinks about in the morning. No matter how many times he wakes up and feels the cold bed next to him, it never dulls the ache in his chest.
It’s not a healthy mindset, he knows. And it’s not that you were codependent on one another, that’s not it at all. You were just… ripped away from him. 
Food has no taste. The sky isn’t as blue as it used to be. Clouds don’t make fun shapes like they did with you by his side. The stars are still in the sky, he thinks, he hasn’t had the guts to look at them. 
God, you love the stars so much. You always talked about how pretty they are— how absolutely breath-taking you think the universe is. Chan would simply listen, he would always listen. All he ever wanted to do was listen.
How is he supposed to look at anything the same way? How is any day supposed to be normal when half of his life is suddenly missing. What’s the point of making music if you’re not there to listen to it?
5:00 PM is the hardest hour to get through. You don’t open the door to his apartment when you get off work. You don’t tell him about the things that happened during your shift. 
He can’t leave little snacks out on the counter for you to eat when you get home like he used to. 
Mice would get to it before you did. 
His lonely apartment is slowly losing your smell. He could spray your perfume, sure, you keep a bottle at his place, but it’s not the same. You somehow made the scent sweeter by letting it linger on your skin. 
All of your old toiletries are still there where you left them. Your spare toothbrush has been bone dry and untouched since 9:28 AM that morning. Your shampoo bottles are still half full and waiting for you on your shower shelf.
It had rained a few days before your accident. You had started a puzzle on his dining room table that day– you told him it was the perfect rainy day activity. It was a picture of different comic book covers. It’s now collecting dust. Unmoved and unsolved. 
Just like him.
It was a battle and a half to throw away your leftovers from two nights before your car accident. He felt like he was throwing away your normal life, your tiny domestic traces. 
He didn’t want to cleanse you from his life, but you were washing away. Your ghost was eroding with time. 
Your spare car keys are still hanging on the key ring. Your rain coat is on the third hook draped right over your work bag. Even your phone charger is still plugged into the wall on your side of the bed.
Did you know you forgot to put your favorite gold earrings on that night? You left them on the nightstand. They’re still there, don’t worry. Right next to the glass of water you drank half of. 
Do you even remember them…? He got them for you for your first Christmas together. 
There are so many signs of a life interrupted integrated so deeply into his. 
You’re a clock whose hands stopped suddenly at 1:24 AM. 
This sort of haunting is unbearable. You’re not a phantom in his life, though. You’re something so unattainable that he had once but it was taken away with empty promises of return. 
It’s like you’re a shiny diamond hidden away beneath lasers and traps like in those stupid, cheesy spy movies you love so much. 
Do you know what he would give to watch one of those with you in his arms right now? 
Chan feels like he’s banging on the glass of a one sided window, screaming for you to remember him. Meanwhile you’re on the other side only staring into a mirror, trying to pick up the pieces from before. 
Your mom sends him updates on your condition all the time. He knows that you started working at the local library about three weeks ago. 
You had worked there in college before graduating and getting your last job. It was one of your favorite jobs you ever had. That library was so special to you. 
To him too. 
It’s the library where he first met you. 
The same library Chan finds himself in front of now. 
He shouldn’t go in. He can’t go in. He absolutely should not go inside. 
Bang Chan you should not and cannot go inside this library. Under no circumstances should you step foot inside this building where your other half is working. 
Absolutely not. 
The door emits a soft ding when he opens it. Electronic. Quiet. Peaceful. 
There’s a certain type of silence that sits in a library. It’s closer, thicker— warmer. It’s an expected silence. They’re supposed to be quiet. 
Chan can hear his sneakers take every step on the carpeted floor. There’s no one sitting behind the front desk; that’s where you usually were. 
His eyes look all around, but there’s no sign of you anywhere. A few people toddle around the shelves. 
There’s more soft beeping coming from the self checkout. That’s new. They didn’t have that when you worked here years ago. You probably hate it. 
On the day he met you, you were wearing a pair of dark green pants and a black long sleeve shirt. Your hair was clipped behind your head and pieces were falling over your face. 
Chan was only in the library to look for the bathroom. He was on his way to lunch with a friend, but he just had to stop somewhere. The library was the closest option. 
When he had heard the sound of books falling, he investigated and found you in the center of the carnage, the glasses on your nose sat crookedly and you rubbed your head. 
Your eyes met. He was a goner. 
How disgustingly poetic that he finds himself here now. Where he really shouldn’t be. He was quite literally prescribed a restraining order against you. 
Chan meanders around with his hands in his pockets, the silence getting louder and louder the further he gets inside.
Maybe you’re not working today? 
No one is anywhere to be seen. He’s checking down all the aisles but he doesn’t see you anywhere. 
Maybe it’s for the best that you’re not here. He’s not supposed to see you anyway. He’s breaking the doctor’s rules by doing this anyway. 
He needs to leave. He needs to get out of here. 
His feet stop in front of the very aisle where he saw you for the first time. 
Empty. 
You-less. 
If he thinks hard enough, Chan can picture you in front of him, laughing quietly with the most adorable, embarrassed blush on your cheeks. 
What a moment. 
Is it possible to spend eternity in that moment? Obviously internal clocks can be rewound, paused, flipped every which way; can he go back to that day? Can he go back to the day where every single poem suddenly made sense?
He would take any day, really, any day that had you in it. Birthdays, holidays, late night dates, Hell, he’d even take a day where he only saw you when you dropped off a drink for him in his studio. 
Anything, he would take anything just to see your smile bloom on your face while he watches.
“Can I help you find something?”
His breath catches in his throat, it feels like he’s physically punched in the chest. That voice. That beautiful, melodic voice. He hasn’t heard it in person in months, only in videos he had on his phone. 
Slowly, Chan turns to face the source of his favorite pitch. 
His throat immediately tightens. 
There you are. You. Beautiful you. 
Standing right there. Looking at him like a complete fucking stranger. 
“I…” his voice is hoarse. Chan can feel the tears in his eyes begin to form. He didn’t think this through, did he?
You’re staring at him expectantly, waiting for him to say anything. You’re waiting, come on, Chan. Speak up. Say something. 
Looking up at the shelf, you look back down at him with a smile. “A history guy, hm?”
No.
“Yeah.”
You giggle. “I always had a thing for History.”
He knows. 
“Really?”
“Mhmm.” You respond with a grin. 
Specifically Ancient Rome. He knows. 
You continue. “Specifically Ancient Rome.”
Chan nods and clears his throat. His palms feel so sweaty. His chest is almost panting. Every single cell in his body just wants to lunge forward and wrap you in a hug. 
He wants to bury his face in your neck and sob while you hold him. He wants to tell you that he missed you so much. He wants to tell you how your pillow is losing the scent of your shampoo. He wants to tell you that he’s been DVR-ing your favorite show so that you can watch it later. He wants to tell you about his day. He wants to kiss you until you’re breathless. He wants you to hear the new song he’s been working on.
But—
“If you need anything, let me know.”
You start to walk away.
Chan feels his heart physically break. It’s happening again. He’s on the other side of that one way mirror. It’s happening again! No, no please. 
His eyes widen, the words get caught in his throat. Fuck, Y/N, please!
“W-Wait!” he says quickly. 
You turn around with a curious look. 
“The Odyssey,” he blurts. “Where uh… where can I find it?”
Your eyes light up. “Oh, I love The Odyssey.”
He knows. You collect different translations of it. 
“I collect different translations of that book, here I’ll show you where it is.”
With a little hop in your step you lead him towards all the classics. 
He watches you like you’re an oasis in the desert— maybe it’s because you are. You’re what he’s been crawling towards for two months. 
You lead him all the way to the shelf where the Odyssey lives. Your nimble fingers reach forward and grab one of the copies. 
Green nail polish. You still paint your nails green. You picked that habit up a year after he met you. 
The memories have to be there, Y/N, they have to be. Chan bought you that first bottle of green nail polish as a joke on Saint Patrick’s Day. 
Y/N, please. 
“This translation is my favorite,” you whisper and hand him the book. 
Chan smiles sadly and takes the book from you, unable to meet your eyes. He knows if he gazes into those gorgeous eyes that he’ll lose it. He’ll fall to his knees and cry. 
“Thank you,” he whispers back. 
You stand there for a moment, he can feel your eyes on his face. He always has been able to tell when you were looking at him, it’s a little, secret superpower. 
From foot to foot, your weight shifts. 
You only do that when you’re confused. Why are you confused? Y/N, are you confused?
“I’m sorry…” you start, sounding so unsure. “You remind me of someone…”
It feels like a defibrillator was hooked up to his chest. Chan’s eyes widen and he finally looks up at you. 
You’re looking at him so carefully. He can see the gears turning in your head. Your tongue pokes out of your lips and wets them. 
Y/N, please. 
“I just… I can’t figure out who. Do I… do I know you? I was—” You stop yourself. 
Fuck. Fuck! What was he supposed to say? Fuck! 
Chan wants to scream. He wants to grab you by the shoulders and cry that he’s your soulmate, that he’s the person that knows you better than anyone else in this world. 
Yes, you do, you do know him. And he knows you. He knows how you take your coffee, what movies make you cry, what color jell-o is your favorite. 
He knows that you never wear matching socks and you always lift your feet when driving over railroad tracks. 
He knows that when you were 6 you ran into the corner of a cabinet and that’s how you got that scar next to your eyebrow. 
Chan knows that your entire life you wanted to be an author but you’re so scared of failure that you decided not to chase after it. 
He knows everything. 
“I just have one of those faces, I guess.” It comes out of his mouth so strained. 
You stare back at him so carefully. Do you see right through him?
“Maybe,” you say slowly. You don’t believe him. He knows that tone. You absolutely do not believe a word he’s saying. “Are you sure?”
Chan swallows, he grips the book in his hand tighter. The lump in his throat almost doesn’t go down, more tears prick at his eyes. 
“I would never forget a face like yours,” he chokes out. 
Your eyes widen and you blush, looking to the side with a smile. You always were a sucker for cheesy compliments. 
After thinking for a second, you reach into your pocket and take out a little slip of paper. 
“Here,” you say after scribbling something down. Holding it out, Chan sees it’s your phone number. He has it memorized. “If you ever need more books to read… or find… call me.”
Chan takes the paper with a racing heart. He gives you a smile, his dimples showing. “I think I will,” he whispers to you. 
Another few moments pass of you just staring at him before you nod and giggle nervously. “Well, I gotta get back to work, so..”
Chan nods and moves to the side. You walk past him. 
Your perfume curls around him like a blanket and he craves that sweet serenity he finds when he holds you close and breathes you in. 
Three steps after you pass him, you turn around. “Oh, I didn’t catch your name.”.
“Chan,” he answers softly. 
“Chan,” you repeat. It goes right through him. 
Your voice. Your sweet, beautiful, melodic voice. Finally, he heard you say his name again.
“I’m Y/N,” you whisper to him with a friendly smile. 
“Nice to meet you, Y/N.” Chan has to physically force the word ‘meet’ out of his mouth. 
“You too, Chan.”
And with that, you were gone, retreating back into your fortress of papyrus. 
—————————————————————
A bad idea was going into the library that day. 
An even worse idea was texting you the day after to ask how your day is going. 
And then an absolutely fucking idiotic move was asking if you wanted to go to dinner with him. 
And the worst part? You said yes. 
So, now here Chan was, standing in front of the mirror in his bedroom getting ready for what you thought was a first date, but to him was just a dinner date. 
How is he supposed to do this? He’s not, that’s how. 
Chan fiddles with his bracelet right before his phone rings. 
His heart drops when he sees the caller ID, your mother. 
“Ah, fuck…” he whispers before grabbing his phone. Of course you were going to tell your mom, you tell your mom everything. 
“Hello?” he asks warily into the phone. 
“Hi, Chan,” she says slowly, she sounds nervous, why does she sound nervous. 
“How are you? Is everything okay?”
“It’s Y/N…” Her voice lowers. Chan’s heart drops. “Before you panic, she’s okay! It’s um.. she’s getting ready right now… for a date…”
Chan isn’t moving. Yes, he knows you are. He knows it. But words won’t form in his mouth. 
“Channie.. I’m starting to wonder if that doctor isn’t right.. I can’t stand the thought of her finding someone else when you’re waiting for her… I tried to talk her out of it but she just seems so floaty and happy. God, I feel sick to my stomach.”
His jaw clenches. Now or never. 
“It’s with me,” he blurts. 
Your mom goes silent. Then a huge sigh comes out of her mouth. 
“I wish I could say I’m angry,” a little laugh follows it. “I think I’m only angry that you didn’t say something.”
He tells her everything, down to the way he pretended not to know you. 
“Well, you’re going to have to tell her eventually.” Your mom sounds unsure, herself. 
“Or maybe she’ll remember me.”
“What if she doesn’t?”
Chan sits down on the edge of his bed. His eyes are staring at the wall, unfocused. 
She’s right. What if you don’t? 
“Then, I’ll just … do it all again.”
Silence greets him on the other side of the line. Another tiny laugh comes from your mom. “I always knew you two were perfect together. Just like two magnets, you always come towards one another.”
—————————————————————
“I’ve never eaten here before,” you say with a chipper smile on your face from across the table. 
Yes, you have. 
“Really?” Chan asks, taking a sip of his water. 
“I pass it all the time and always wondered how the food was.”
He looks back down at the old menu. 
This restaurant was more than special to him. It’s where he took you on your first date. It’s an old fashioned burger joint with the greasiest, most delicious French fries in town. 
The first time you guys came here, you talked and talked until the place closed. And even after that, you drove around and talked until it was late. 
“I’ve been here a few times, it’s really good. The milkshakes are some of the best I’ve ever had.” Chan’s sweaty hands fiddle with the menu. 
He’s more nervous now than on the first date. 
“What’s the best one?” you ask with a smile. 
A small laugh comes out of his nose. “The peanut butter one.”
It was your favorite. 
“Yeah but then you can’t have any,” you say so nonchalantly, looking down at the menu. 
His eyebrows knit together. “What?”
“‘Cause of your allergy.”
He stops. 
You stop. 
He has a peanut allergy. Chan has a peanut allergy. 
His lips purse like he’s going to say something but you beat him to the punch. 
“I’m sorry,” you blurt out. “I… I don’t know why I thought that.” Your hands grip the menu a little tighter. “Maybe I’m thinking of someone else?”
Chan shakes his head. “No, no, it’s okay. I… I do have a peanut allergy. Maybe I said something before?”
You stare at him for a long second before looking back down at the menu once more. “Yeah… um. Maybe.”
He definitely did not say something. 
Dinner continues on. Chan listens to you talk and pretends he’s never heard your stories before and he tells you ones he knows he’s said before. 
The entire time, you were beaming at him, just like you used to before the accident. Your face never loses its constant happy glow. He’s not sure that the muscles in your face know how to frown.  
You’re the last two people in the restaurant. The staff doesn’t seem to mind. Maybe they recognize you both. Maybe. 
A lull dips into your conversation. Both of you know you should leave. Neither wants to. Especially the broken man sitting across from you. 
Chan takes the last sip of his drink. The bill has been paid for about an hour at this point. You’re looking down at your lap with a pink flush on your cheeks. 
You bite your lip and look up at Chan carefully. 
“Are you… are you sure I don’t know you, Chan?”
He stares at you. Did you know that you always bite your lip like that when you’re confused? 
“I just… I really feel like I know you. There’s just…” you pause, trying to find your words. He knows you want to tell him about the accident. He knows you want to say it but you don’t want to weird him out. 
What the fuck is he supposed to do? What is he supposed to tell you? 
“Something happened to me a little while ago, my brain’s been… fuzzy since then,” you explain shyly. “I know you said you don’t know me but I just… I can’t help feel like that’s not true.”
Chan’s jaw clenches, his knee bounces anxiously underneath the table. His head turns to the side in his typical nervous tick. 
Your mother’s words echo in his mind, his tongue suddenly feels like it’s swelling to the size of his mouth— making him unable to speak. Should he tell you? Is it now or never?
“I don’t mean to make it weird, Chan.”
He licks his lips and opens his mouth. 
Your phone rings. 
A sigh of relief comes from deep within Chan’s chest. 
Reluctantly, you pick up the phone and hold it to your ear. “Hello? …. No, I didn’t know…. Yeah, of course…. Sure… Yeah, see you tomorrow.”
Just as quickly as you answered the phone, you hang up. 
“Sorry,” you mumble. “Someone called out of work for tomorrow, they need me to come in.”
“Do you need to get going?” Chan asks, looking down at the time. It’s well past 10 o’clock. 
A sad smile crosses your face. “I mean… probably.” The time on your watch flashes back at you. He can tell you don’t want to go home yet. 
“Come on, Y/N, I’ll walk you home.”
Chan’s already standing up from the table, picking his jacket up off the back of his chair. You watch his movements and slowly get up, your movements screaming reluctance. 
—————————————————————
It’s three dates later when the two of you are walking down the street towards your house. It’s only a few blocks from here, but you both decide to take a tiny detour through the local park. 
“I have to say I’m a little excited to meet your friends,” you giggle. “I hope that’s not weird.”
You already have. 
“It’s not weird at all. I’m sure they’d like you.” Chan nudges your arm with his elbow, his hands staying in his pocket. 
“Changbin sounds like a blast.”
He was your favorite before.
“The two of you…” Chan thinks over his words carefully. “The two of you would definitely cause some mischief.”
And you have. 
A tiny lull of comfortable silence falls over the conversation. 
Both of you meander towards the swings. A cold wind blows through the air but neither of you react to it. 
With a tiny giggle, you sit down on one of the swings and hold onto the chains on the side. 
You are just so… you. You’re just your authentic self. Amnesia or not, you haven’t changed a bit. It’s so charming.
“I can’t remember the last time I went on the swings.” You start to move your body back and forth, not too much but enough to get the tiny thrill the toy brings. 
Chan walks up and stands next to you, his hand coming out and grabbing at the chain of the swing next to yours. 
The brightest smile stretches over your face. 
God, it really doesn’t take a lot to make you smile, does it? He guesses that means it doesn’t take a lot for him either since he smiles when you do.
He can’t help it.
He watches you move back and forth, the cold breeze kicking up a bit more and blowing dead leaves across the sidewalk. 
“What’s wrong, Chan? Allergic to swings?” you tease. 
He rolls his eyes with a smirk. “No, I just far more enjoy watching you have fun.”
Your cheeks flush. If he didn’t know you, maybe he would’ve chocked it up to the cold. But he knows the difference between your blush and the elements now. 
“You’re a smooth talker, Bang Chan.”
“It comes easy with you, Y/N L/N.”
Another laugh from you. 
“Shameless flirt.”
He puts his hand on his chest in mock hurt. “Ouch! I just speak the truth, that’s all. Not my fault I like seeing you blush.”
Every word that comes out of his mouth feels so natural. If he really thinks about it, he’s in a weirdly unique situation. Not many couples get to start over, to feel those butterflies again. But here he is, his palms starting to get sweaty as he imagines kissing you. 
Would you call it a first kiss? Maybe. 
It has been four dates. It wouldn’t be.. inappropriate to kiss you, would it? The two of you kissed on your third date a few years ago. 
He wants to kiss you so bad. 
Should he? Shouldn’t he? God, why is this so hard?
Chan reaches out and grabs the chain of your swing, pulling it to a very gentle stop. 
“Uh oh, fun police,” you tease and look up at him with a grin. 
Looking down at you, Chan allows his eyes to look over every detail of your face that he already had memorized. You haven’t changed at all except the new scar on the side of your forehead from the accident. 
It’s the same eyes, same nose, same chin that he fell in love with so long ago. 
The same asymmetrical eyes that you’re so self conscious of but he loves. Your hair is wind blown and splayed every which way. It adds a childish charm to your features. 
Very carefully, Chan moves his free hand down to cup your cheek. His warm palm soothes your ice cold face. He hears your breath catch in your throat at his touch. 
His thumb swipes over your cheek, fingertips run down the soft lines of your jawline. Eventually his thumb ends up under your chin which he tilts up. 
Your eyes sparkle. They somehow capture the light of the lamps around the playground. But they’ve always done that. 
You’re always so enchanting.
Is this a good idea? 
Is kissing you the best option? 
But does he even have the strength to stop himself now?
Almost three months without feeling your lips on his has been torture, and here he is, with you in his hands and there’s still this nagging feeling that he should stop. 
One look into your eyes quells that anxiety. 
Your eyes keep flickering down to his own lips, the shaky breath you let out is hot against his fingers. Everything feels warmer compared to the air outside. 
He can’t take it anymore. 
Chan leans down and presses his lips to yours. They’re warm and slightly chapped.
But, my god, he’s never felt anything this heavenly before. It’s like his entire body unwinds. Like a fire was lit inside his stomach. 
He moves his hand to the back of your head and keeps your lips pressed against his. Your head tilts to the side slightly. It’s just like he remembers. 
It’s just the first kiss, he can’t let himself get carried away. He can’t. 
He can’t let his fingers wind through your hair. He can’t melt into your touch on his cheek. He can’t let himself drown in your lips. 
But he is. 
He’s letting you consume his very soul in one kiss. 
How can something feel so healing yet hurt so badly at the same time? It’s like you’re ripping open a wound and bandaging it at the same time. 
No matter how hard he tries, he can’t bring his lips away from yours. Your hand slides down to caress his jawline with those soft, manicured fingers. 
Your lips open and close over his like mirror images. The feeling shoots straight down into Chan’s gut. It’s like the first time for him all over again. 
Those butterflies are going insane in his stomach. Your scent kicks up in the wind and he can’t help but take a large breath through his nose. 
God, he can’t stop himself. It feels too good. 
His hand moves from the back of your hair to cup your cheek and bring you closer. 
He immediately stops. 
Why is your face wet?
Chan pulls away from the kiss and looks down at you with concern written all over his expression. 
You’re crying. Why … why are you crying?
Your eyes open and you look at him confused. 
“Chan?” you whisper. You’re confused too. What?
“Why are you crying, Y/N?” he asks with a thick voice.
Your eyes widen and your own hand comes up to swipe at your cheeks. Sure enough, you’re met with tears. 
“I… I don’t know,” you say so quietly. “I-I’m not sure.”
Chan starts backing away, your eyes snap to focus on his. Your hand shoots up to grab at his to keep him there. You’re still so confused. 
Emotions are flying through your eyes. It almost looks like someone is clicking a light switch on and off in the back of your mind. A lightbulb is flickering in your soul like a dying neon sign in an old shop window. 
Every muscle in your face is twitching.
What’s happening?
“Channie—“ your own voice cuts off by a sob. 
Chan’s heart jumpstarts. You haven’t called him that… not in two months… that’s what you and your mother called him before the accident. 
Are you…? Are you remembering? What’s happening?
Please. 
Slowly, your hand falls from his. 
Chan stays there, unmoving like a statue. What’s happening inside your mind right now? It looks like you’re reaching and reaching for something that you can’t quite put your finger on. 
He's watching you struggle. It’s like when you can’t remember a word. It’s right there. It’s on the tip of your tongue.
You gulp, your eyes leave his and you look down at your lap. The dirt crunches under your feet as you shuffle your shoes around.
Chan swipes his thumb over your cheek, brushing away the tears. He’s biting back his own. 
“It’s okay—“ “I’m sorry—“ are both said at the exact same time. 
He knew it was coming. He knows you. But you don’t know him. Not anymore. 
But you do.
“It wasn’t the kiss. I—“ 
“It’s okay, Y/N.”
You know him. 
“Chan, I really loved the kiss.”
Chan. Not Channie. 
He brushes his thumb over your lips. “It’s okay,” he repeats gently. “You don’t have to explain.”
His other hand comes up and tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Your eyes slide shut at the sensation. 
Your bottom lip quivers and you pull it into your mouth and bite it. With a tight swallow, your throat bobs. 
“It happens sometimes,” you whisper. “It’s from the accident I had.”
Chan continues to soothingly rub your skin with his thumb. Slowly, he kneels down to be in front of you rather than leaning over. 
The dirt is cold on his knee. It seeps through the fabric of his pants. He couldn’t care less. 
“You don’t have to talk about it,” he whispers back to you. 
You shake your head gently, your hands folding in your lap. “No, no. I… I want to tell you. I need to tell you. It’s been happening more and more whenever I’m around you. It’s like every touch, every word you say bounces around my brain and makes me feel the worst case of deja vu.
“Every time I’m with you I feel like I’m trying to recall a dream I had last night but I just can’t remember what it was.”
You’re rambling. You only ramble when you’re overwhelmed and scared. 
“Chan, every time I’m with you it feels like some part of me is screaming to be let out.”
Your eyes open and you stare right through him. Chan feels his heart squeeze and almost stop completely. Despite your best efforts, the tears keep coming. 
“I was in a car accident a few months ago. I had such a severe concussion that I lost the last five years of my memory.” 
How is your voice so even?
Chan’s jaw clenches. Fuck fuck fuck. 
He knows. Yes, Y/N. He knows. Fuck, does he know! If anyone fucking knows, it’s him. 
“I—“ he starts but you cut him off. 
“Please,” you choke out and take a deep breath. “And since then I’ve been getting bits and pieces of my memory back. Sometimes they’re in large chunks, other times they just … come back.
“When I try to think about my life before the accident. There’s this… person there. Someone important. Someone so, so important that it physically hurts me to think about how I don’t know who it is. They’re a constant. And I love that they’re a constant.”
Your hand comes up to clutch at your jacket right over your chest. 
More tears come out of your eyes. The whites get more pink the more they flow. 
“But I know them. I do! I know them like I know the back of my hand. I-I know they love music. I know they take milk and sugar in their morning coffee. I know they don’t get enough sleep at night.”
Louder and louder your voice gets as you grow sadder and sadder. The sobs between thoughts wrack your chest. 
Him. You’re talking about him. 
Chan’s hands hold your face gently. His thumbs can’t keep up with how much you’re crying. 
Nothing has ever hurt this bad. 
You know him. You just don’t know it’s him. 
Nevertheless, you continue. “I remember that they have the most obnoxious phone alarm in the morning. I remember the passcode to their phone is 032518. I know that they have this one black sweatshirt that I love to steal even though it’s their favorite.”
Chan’s own eyes begin watering, he can’t stop it. You know him. You know him. You’ve remembered him this whole time and you didn’t even know it. 
You reach up and grab one of his hands and place it on your heart. Underneath your jacket, he can feel your heartbeat thudding violently against your chest. 
That same heartbeat he’s been dying to listen to while you play with his hair and tell him about your day. The heartbeat he would give anything to hear as he falls asleep. His throat gets tighter and tighter. 
“I’ve been surrounded by bits and pieces of a ghost and no one wants to help me. No one will tell me anything, and I’m so confused, Chan. I can tell that there’s something that everyone is avoiding telling me.”
A gust of wind picks up through the playground. It nips at his cheeks. It’s now he realizes how many tears are falling. 
A sob tears from his throat. 
You grip his hand tighter. 
“Tell me It’s you, Chan.” You’re begging. You’re actually begging while keeping his hand pressed against your heartbeat. 
“Tell me that you’re the person that I see in my dreams. Tell me you’re the one that loves when I draw hearts on the bathroom mirror after I shower. Please tell me that you’re the one that loves the smell of lemon cookies but can’t stand the taste.”
Oh, god, Y/N.
“Tell me that you’re the one that wanted to pick me up from the party that night but I said no.”
He breaks. 
He breaks right down in front of you. Every single ounce of self control leaves his body and he grabs you out of the swing, yanking you towards his body and holding you against his chest. The emotions that were being kept at bay come out like a raging storm. 
He falls backwards into the dirt, you come crashing into him. Your arms wrap around him at the same time he wraps around you. 
Chan buries his face in your neck, one hand on the back of your head and the other firmly around your waist. 
Wails leave his mouth as he holds you to him. They’re deep and come from the very depths of his soul. The wound that’s been open for months is bleeding.  
Every lonely night. Every dinner where he cooked for two instead of one by accident. Every long day he came back to an empty apartment. It’s all coming out. 
You’re crying just as hard as he is, both of your hands gripping the back of his hoodie like a lifeline. 
Your body in his arms is like a piece of a puzzle. Like he’s the dusty one sitting on his dining room table and you finally came in and finished it. 
Weeks and weeks of grief come crashing down on him. He can’t lie anymore. Not to you. Never to you. 
“It is me,” he cries into your neck, his hand running over the back of your head, feeling your hair slip through his fingers. It’s just like he remembers. “It’s all me, Y/N, It’s me.”
Your cries get louder, your body starts shaking in his arms. 
“I’ve missed you, Y/N,” he cries harder. “Fuck, I’ve missed you so much. I missed my girl. Oh my god, I’ve missed you.”
Chan can’t pull you close enough, he can’t get you close enough to his body. You shift around and press yourself into him. 
“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I’m so sorry I didn’t pick you up that night. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you. I’m so sorry you got hurt.” 
Every ounce of grief is surfacing and clawing its way out of his throat. 
“I’m sorry I had to lie to you these last two weeks. I’m so sorry, Y/N. I was so broken without you. I broke the doctor’s orders. I needed to see you, Y/N.”
Despite how hard he has you gripped against him, you manage to pull away slightly. You sit up in his lap and look down at his red, tear soaked face. His eyes are puffy and his chest is sputtering with sobs. 
Both of your hands cup his cheeks and swipe away the tears the same way he did for you only a small bit ago. There’s a sad smile on your face. 
“Please don’t apologize, Channie, it’s okay. I forgive you.”
Channie. You called him Channie.
He cries harder and buries his face into your chest. Your arms immediately come around him and keep him there, fingers threading into his hair. 
You’re still crying. Both of you are. 
“I know you were just doing what you were told to,” you whisper into his hair. He can hear your voice reverberate in your chest. 
All he can do is cry. 
Months of build up led to this moment. Endless days of going through the motions just for the next to be as dull and tedious led to him falling into you in the middle of a playground at night. 
The only thing you do after that is hold him. You press kisses to the top of his head and whisper that you forgive him over and over. 
Each one adds a stitch to the wound, shutting it.
You’re finally in his arms. You’re finally back where you belong. 
“I missed you,” he says again, his cries dying down. He doesn't know what else to say. There's so much he wants to tell you, but everything dies on the tip of his tongue.
“I missed you too, Channie. My heart missed you so much.”
He sniffles and looks up at you. You pull your sweatshirt sleeve up and wipe away his stray tears gently. 
“Every day it just felt like something was missing. It was you. You were missing.”
Chan can’t find any words to say. He just stares at you. 
"I don't care how long it takes to remember, or even if I never do. I need you by my side for it, Chan."
His eyes sparkle at you for a moment but he leans up and captures your lips with his once more. It feels even better than the previous one.
The two of you relish in the contact, holding each other close and clinging to the closeness of it all.
It's taking everything within Chan not to start crying again. He's worried than any moment now, he'll wake up and this will all be some cruel dream.
But when you pull away from his lips, and he opens his eyes-- you're still there. You're still in his arms and smiling at him like you always did.
The burn is soothed.
“If you think about it,” you start with a tiny smile. “We’re lucky— in a way.”
His entire face screws up, even more confused. “Lucky?”
“How many people get to say they fell in love with the same person twice?”
Chan blinks twice before it feels like his entire body thaws. 
You and your glass half full attitude. He’ll never fucking get enough of it. 
His arms wrap around you again, bringing you down into his chest. You let out a breathy giggle 
“You’re never leaving my sight,” he breathes out. “Never again, baby, never.”
“I don’t ever want to, Channie. I never will.”
2K notes · View notes
railingsofsorrow · 20 days
Text
don't walk out
[spencer reid x reader]
summary: “we can fight and we can be mad but we can't leave.”  pairing: s.reid x gn!reader  w.c: 1K warnings/content: implied abandoned issues; argument; silent treatment (brief); language; angst.  A/N: guess I'm on a roll today. I just love some angst. 
navi
masterpost
cm masterlist
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“is that supposed to make me feel better?”  
lights had barely been turned on when you spat out a response, breaking the tense silence. your apartment was tidy, nothing out of order, even the pillows where settled two on each edge of the couch like you always did before leaving for work.  
it was the expected. three days away on a case didn't exactly mean your house would turn upside down, would it? unanimated things didn't move on their own. but one thing that was turning upside down was your mood. not only did the journey home came with lots of turbulence, but Spencer had to make an unpleasant comment that made your blood boil. was it wrong that you just wanted to not look at him right now? you were even considering not sleeping beside him tonight. 
“for fucks sake.” you mumbled under your breath when he had stayed silent. he's ignoring you now. great. throwing your work bag on the couch, you didn't even take your shoes off as you moved back toward the door. you can't handle his passive aggressive act and you certainly won't handle his silence treatment.  
“where are you going?” he called out, shuffling out of the bedroom upon hearing the sound of keys dangling. no. no, you're not leaving, are you? “what—” 
“i'm gonna take a walk, spencer.” 
it didn't take a second for him to rush over and stop your exit by blocking the door. “what are the car keys for then?” desperation clouded his tone and you felt guilt building up in your chest, but it wasn't bigger than your frustration.  
“I'm gonna drive.” 
“at this time of the night? you hate driving at night.” 
“are you my father?” he almost flinched at your sharp tone. okay, he deserved that hostility. he's been nothing but rude to you the entire jet ride back home. it's not that you did anything — even if you had done something, it does not justify the way he was treating you —, the case had been hard. it involved kids. the team wasn't fast enough. he wasn't fast enough. you almost got hurt. it was a lot to absorb in a short amount of time.  
he never wanted this: you walking out while you were mad at each other. no. you had made a deal long ago. you both were laughing after your first stupid argument, something about forgetting to fold the laundry.  
“okay, but we can be like this, right?” you said, nudging him. “we can fight and we can be mad but we can't leave.” 
his eyes soften and he almost turns to mush. he understood then that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. and yes. you would be mad and you would upset each other but leaving was off the table. he could do that. there was nothing he'd want more. 
but now he'd cross a line. didn't he? how dare he do that? how dare he cause you do want to walk out? 
“i'm sorry.” spencer is still at the doorway when you ask him to move. he won't move. he can't. “i really am. I shouldn't have said that. it was out of line.” 
“really?” you snap. he hears the edge in your voice and the crack. it breaks him. he just wants to hold you, he never meant—means to hurt you. “then why did you? why would you even think about something like that?”  
he holds back his breath of relief once you've put the keys back in the bowl. the lump in his throat diminishing slightly. 
“i was upset. angry— at the case. the whole situation, not you.“ he clarified. “sweetheart, i'm sorry. I didn't mean it.” you're searching his face for some indication of lie that you won't find. “i'm sorry.” 
“you're an idiot.” your anger is gone, there's just frustration now. maybe at yourself, because you can't really stay mad at him as he stares at you with those eyes.  
“i am,” he admits, no ounce of hesitation in his tone. he's fairly certain he is, in fact, an idiot. “i'm sorry.” he repeats and he will repeat over and over again until you forgive him. he will beg if he has to. “don't leave, please.” 
and that is not fair. it's not. he can't make you mad and say sorry and all will be forgiven. he can't look at you with those eyes and think things will be magically fixed. 
but then your armor cracks. suddenly, his behaviour makes sense. 
we can fight and we can be mad but we can't leave. 
“i wasn't going to—” you're ashamed at this point. you were so blinded by anger that you'd do something you promised to never do. “you know I wouldn't leave, right?” then his desperation in reaching the door before you makes sense and you're taken back to the moment you promised not to walk out in a fight. that's exactly what you where about to do.  
“i'm sorry.” you say, staring at the keys in your hands. “i didn't think before acting.”  
spencer nods slowly, taking a step closer towarss your frame. “and I didn't think before speaking. I'm the one that should be sorry.” 
you caught a glimpse at his twitchy fingers and takes one of his hands into your own, letting the keys slip to the floor as you yank him to your arms. he only complies by squeezing you against him. and finally, both of you have what you've been craving since this case started: each other's comfort.  
and then, you repeat. “i wasn't going to leave, you know that, right?”  
“yeah.” he burries his face into your neck and his voice is muffled by your skin. “yeah, I know.” 
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taglist: @lilyviolets ; @whore-for-spencer-reid ; @yeonalie @ninkieminjaj ; 
999 notes · View notes
rogueddie · 2 years
Text
"Something is really wrong with Steve," Robin says.
The party look up, startled. They wait for her to continue, but she starts pacing nervously. It immediately sets the kids on edge, glancing at each other uneasy.
"What do you mean?" Dustin eventually speaks up. "Is he... ill?"
"No, no, it's... his parents came home, right?"
"Yeah, we know," Max snorts. "Dustins mom had to ban him from the house because he wouldn't leave."
"He can't avoid them forever," Dustin points out. "I get that it's hard to talk to them when you have to lie all the time but they're, like, paying for all his shit."
"No they aren't!" Robins voice cracks. "They cut him off years ago! Dude, he hates them and now he's writing up a resignation letter so he can go work for his dad."
"Why is that a bad thing?" El asks, eyes a little wide.
"He'd have to train for a few months in New York for one."
"New York?!" All of them burst out. They all try to speak at once, loud and panicked. They're so loud that Hopper bursts out, confused and tired and panicked.
"What the hell is going on?" He snaps.
The kids all look a little guilty. El stands up so he looks at her. "We are worried about Steve."
"What? Jeez, that's what you're yelling about?"
"He's moving away!" Mike snaps. "To New York! For months!"
Hopper frowns at him like he's not making sense. "New York?"
"To work with his dad," Robin adds. "I didn't know if I should talk him out-"
"They're back?" Hopper asks. He's gone still, voice devoid of emotion and dangerously calm. "How long?"
"A month? Maybe more, it-"
"And they're home now? Do you know if Steve is there with them? It's not one of his shifts, is it? That'd make it easier."
"What? No, he's home. Make what easier?"
Hopper ignores the question, grabbing his coat and shoes. "Stay here, I won't be long."
He ignores the questions that grow frantic and panicked when he picks up his gun, stomping out the door at a fast pace. Robin is yelling from the door as he climbs into his car. She's too taken aback to even begin to think of how to answer to avalanche of questions the kids throw at her.
Hopper gets to the Harrington house in record time, having sped just a little to get there. Mrs Harrington is the one who opens the door and looks a little guilty when she sees him.
"Where is he?" Hopper asks.
She steps back, letting him in. "In his room."
Hopper pushes past her, taking the stairs two at a time. Steve is sat at his desk when he enters the room without knocking, head snapping up and looking startled. He looks a little ashamed when he realizes that it's Hopper.
"Hop," Steves voice is strained. He frowns when Hopper ignores him, pulling his closet open. "Uh, Hopper? What are you doing?"
"Taking you home," Hopper mutters. He pulls out the three bags he knows Steve has been keeping hidden, just in case. "Come on, pack up."
"I can't just-"
"Yes you can. Pack. Up."
Steve only hesitates for a moment. He slowly fills up one with his few sentimental things and some things he considers important (his scoops uniform, the drawings from Will). Hopper stuffs the other two with clothes. It doesn't take them long.
"I'll come back for the rest, if you want any of it," Hopper hands Steve his car keys, waving him toward the stairs. "Wait in the car. I'll be a minute."
Steve hesitates at the door, glancing between Hopper and his mom. He leaves though, doesn't say goodbye.
"Right, here's what's going to happen; I'm going to come back for the rest of his things. I've seen that room, I'll know if somethings missing. And that shit is his, don't try to bullshit me." Hopper eyes her with visible distaste. "He's an adult now. You can't take him back and if I hear that either of you've been trying to harass him again, I'll press charges."
She nods, which is enough of an answer for him. He throws the two bags in the back with the third before climbing in the drivers seat. The air is thick with tension as he pulls out the drive, starting the drive back to the cabin.
"Um... could you, uh, drop me off at the trailer park?" Steve asks, quiet and timid in a way that is horribly familiar to Hopper. "I, uh... I need to see Eddie."
Hopper grunts. He grits his teeth to stop himself snapping. It wouldn't be fair on Steve. So he drives him there, quiet and tense.
"Thanks," Steve mumbles.
But Hopper climbs out too, gently grabbing Steves jacket lapels to drag him over to the Munsons trailer. Hopper knocks.
"Oh," Waynes eyebrows raise. He looks Hopper up and down before turning his eyes on Steve, who he gives a soft smile. "Harrington, you doing alright?"
"No," Hopper answers for him. "Could we come in for a moment?"
"Sure?" Wayne shuffles out the way, shutting the door behind them. "Eddie's in his room, if you want me to get him?"
"You want your boy to see?" Hopper asks Steve.
Steve ducks his head, fiddling with the sleeves of his jacket. He mutters, "he probably will anyway."
"Ok. Do you want him here for this?"
"Here for what?" Eddie asks, hovering in the doorway, worried. "What's happened?"
"Nothing," Steve tries to say. "It's... really, it's nothing."
"Steve," Hopper calmly says. Waits for Steve to look back at him, simply raises an eyebrow. "Where?"
"Hopper, it's fine, really."
"Where?"
Steve tries to stare him down, unsuccessfully. He huffs, annoyed, glancing at Wayne and Eddie who, understandably, look confused.
He slowly takes his jacket off, keeping his eyes on the floor. There's a sharp intake of breath when the dark, almost black, bruises on his arms are revealed. They litter the entirety of both arms, the ones around his left wrist and right bicep standing out the most- the ones shaped like hands.
"Steve," Eddie whispers, walking forward slowly. He's careful, brushing his fingers against his skin. "Oh, baby, who did this?"
"It's fine," Steve tries to insist.
Hopper clears his throat though. "Where else?"
Steve doesn't try to argue this time. He grabs the back of his collar, lifting his top off. His ribs have the worst of his bruises.
"Fuck," Eddie carefully, gently, pulls Steve into a hug. Presses gentle, ever so soft kisses to his neck. His hand is just as gentle when he rubs his back. Steve clings to him, grip looking almost painful, but Eddie doesn't complain.
Hopper turns to Wayne, who is also pointedly looking away so the two can have their moment. "His parents are gonna try to find him. Direct them to me if they try here."
"Don't worry about Steve," Wayne glances at the pair, still wrapped around each other, at the bruises. "Worry about them. If they try to come by here, they'll be leaving in a body bag. I'm sick of assholes treating my kids like this."
Hopper looks over at Eddie, who's pulling back so he can hold Steves face, eyes painfully understanding. He nods at Wayne, pats his shoulder. "I'm getting the rest of his stuff, he's got no reason to go back there. It's my cabin he's coming home to."
"I'll drive him there myself," Wayne glances at the pair, who think they're being subtle and sneaky as they giggle their way towards Eddies room. "Tomorrow."
Hopper chuckles, glancing towards the hall the two disappeared down. "Tomorrow."
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cheriladycl01 · 2 months
Text
Double the Interviews - Oscar Piastri x GreekOlympicTennis! Reader
Plot: WAG duties consist of you literally being in more interviews than Oscar because of your outgoing and bubbly personality.
Credit to lewdo for the GIF
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"Y/N can we have a minute of your time please?" an interviewer asks pulling you away from your friend who you look over at. She smiles at you and nods, making her way back to the McLaren garage.
"How are you feeling about the race tomorrow?" he asks and you put a serious face on.
"Yeah, I think the car's got good pace, looking to be in some top positions and I'm excited to see what happens!" you nod and the interviewer holds back their laugh.
"Spoken like a true driver!" he chuckles and you start to laugh as well.
"How are you feeling knowing come summer you'll be competing in the Olympics for Greece in Paris while Oscar is also competing in his own sport?" he asks and you nod, carefully listening to the question to not misunderstand him.
"Yeah of course. You know it's always hard when you have those conflicting schedules especially in athlete relationships. You know I'm still competing in ATP and I have been for a while, and then going into the Olympics on top of that is just immense. I get to travel with my best friend who I've played tennis with since 3 years old but at the same time Osc isn't there all the time. I think that's why today is just so important to me, to be here to support him at his home race!" you smile to the man in front of you who slowly pulls the mic back towards him.
"Will we be seeing Oscar at the Olympics this year?" he asks.
"I think at this stage it's hard to tell, F1 has the longest and busiest schedule to date this year and there's more stress and pressure on the drivers than ever with all the changes taking place ahead of 2025 and 2026, so you know I'd love Oscar to be able to come and see me take home another medal, but again it's one of those moments where you can't be in two places at once!" you explain, knowing he'd already planned to come for your first event of the summer, and would try and stay with you, until it ended for you. But even he didn't know when McLaren would request for him in Woking, or if he'd go home to spend a little needed time with his family.
"Well, I think it's safe to say we are all wishing for Gold for you again this year. Good luck to you and Y/BFF/N who we did see earlier, but dipped away last minute before i could invite her!" he smiles at you, and you smile back.
"You'll see us at the Olympics up at the very top. We promise!" you give the camera a cheesy grin before saying your goodbye's and leaving him to question the next driver who was eagerly waiting behind you.
"There you are!" you hear the Australian accent you knew all to well from your left.
"Hey baby!" you smile, leaning up and placing a soft kiss on Oscar's cheek.
"Saw Y/BFF/N come back without you, when she told me you were stolen for an interview i thought i'd come see if you needed saving" he softly tells you placing a light and gentle hand in your smiling softly down at you.
"Ah, you see baby that is where we are completely and utterly different. I love talking to all your work colleagues!" you say, pulling his hand along so you can both walk back together. You wave at people as you walk past saying small hello's and posing for any camera's you spot in your peripheral.
"You consider the media work colleagues of mine?" he asks with a low laugh that has you cocking your head to one side in question.
"You don't?" you offer back.
"No, my colleagues are my team and the other drivers!" he admits with a blank look on his face that just screams that no cogs are turning up there.
"I mean, you work with the media every time your here. I'd say you work with them, they might not be on your team but they are still apart of your sport!" you admit, he goes to argue but you put a soft finger on his lip.
"Would you consider my ball boy's as my colleagues?" you ask, and he thinks for a second before sighing and nodding.
"There you go then! F1 interviewers are your work colleagues and i like talking to them, they always have very insightful questions!" you smile.
"Insightful or invasive?" he queries looking across at you, brows a little furrowed.
"Damn, you really are a young Kimi Raikkonen. I see what the fans mean now!" you laugh at his expression which quickly tries to change but the frown lines remain.
"God, we need to go back to my mum's for some rest and relaxation" you sigh, starting to massage his wrist and up his arm making him sigh.
"Mmmm, we do I really miss that one dish that she makes us!"
"The Tzatziki with the roasted meat and vegetable kebabs or Moussaka?" you ask looking over at him knowing he enjoyed both.
"Oh! I was thinking of the Moussaka, but the Tzatziki is good. My trainer actually said that it was the perfect mix!" he admitted, still holding that blank expression.
"But he tells you off for the Honey Cake!" you sigh knowing that it was a delicacy you didn't get very often too, being an athlete and all meant that you had to have a very strict diet and couldn't lie to your trainer about cheat days you'd have.
"Okay but that Honey Cake is lethal! You cant stop when you start eating it!" he says before starting to quietly ramble about all his favorite foods as you enter the confides of his driver room away from the public eye.
You cant help but just watch and smile at him, people rarely get to see this funny talkative side of Oscar that could actually out ramble you sometimes which should be near impossible as you were very much a yapper. Especially when you got passionate and would slip in some of you mother tongue without realizing.
"What?, Why are you staring at me?" he asks, after realizing he'd started to rant.
"I just love watching you talk, you nose scrunches when you get passionate about a topic and it's cute" you smile, looking down knowing he'd be a blushing mess.
"Shut up! You are the yapper here, start yapping!" he says, making you burst out laughing while he goes to sit down on the small sofa.
"I'm going to miss you next week!" you sigh as you sit down on his lap where he wraps his arms tightly around you and rests his head in the crook of you neck.
"I know, but I'll come see you at your next tournament after the triple-header!" he smiles, kissing against your neck your body relaxing against his.
"It's just hard, god I'm clingy!" you attempt to laugh the tears away.
"Lando wants to know if you and Y/BFF/N are down for a rematch" he smirks changing the conversation to a more light-hearted one.
"Oh you boys are so on!" you grin.
y/user
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Liked by oscarpiastri and landonorris
y/user: Photo Dump from the boyf’s homeland! Love you Australia 🇦🇺
View all 278 comments
oscarpiastri: it was fun playing doubles with you and y/bff/n. Best you next time
landonorris: these guys are kinda good at tennis yo!
-> y/user: does the gold medal mean nothing to you?
-> landonorris: not really :0
-> y/user: well … Osc?
-> oscarpiastri: don’t involve me :(
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Your Instagram Story Caption:
Double Trouble in Stralia 🇦🇺
Taglist:
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Text
Wrapped Around Your Finger
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~1.1k
Warnings: angst, fighting, kind of fluff at the end?
Summary: You and Spencer make it a rule not to bring your work home with you, but you can't help it when he blatantly ignores you on a case. You're pissed at him, and you decide to show him just how long you can stay pissed at him.
Square Filled: "I'm fine." for @badthingshappenbingo
Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3
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The worst part of being in a relationship with someone you work with is that sometimes, you bring your work home with you. You and Spencer try not to let your work affect your personal life, but you can’t let this one go. Everyone from the office felt the tension between you two before you left, and during the car ride, you prepared what you were going to say to him as soon as you walked through the front door.
“So, you’re just ignoring me now?” Spencer asks and follows you inside.
“I don’t know what you want me to say, Spencer. Why do I even tell you things if you’re not even going to fucking listen to me?”
“What you suggested was wrong, and had I listened to you, someone else would have gotten hurt.”
“No,” you whip around to face him, “I told you how to get the unsub and where he was going to be. I told you he was going to be armed so I suggested bringing in the SWAT team as backup. What did you do? You and Derek enter the house alone and disregard everything I told you.”
“Had I gone in with the SWAT team, the unsub would have seen them and started shooting. Morgan and I were able to trap him by sneaking up on him. I can’t very well do that with a whole team behind me.” He sets his bag down on the counter and rubs his face tiredly. “Besides, I don’t know why you’re bugging about this. Everything worked out.”
“You don’t get it,” you scoff. “It’s not about how we got the unsub. It’s about the fact that you didn't even consider what I had to say. You went ahead and did it on your own. If that’s how you want to do things, then fine. I won’t help you ever again.”
You grab a water bottle from the fridge and make your way to the stairs.
“You’re overreacting about this.”
“I’m sleeping in the guest room tonight.”
With that, you leave your husband at the bottom of the stairs alone. He rolls his eyes and decides to let you have this night. Tomorrow, he’s going to make you see that your plan wouldn’t have worked.
In the morning, you’re already at work by the time he gets up. Normally, sleep is a cleanser for you. If you go to bed angry, you’re usually calmed down by the morning. However, he can see you’re going to milk this as long as you can. That’s fine. If you want to play games, he’ll play it your way.
Spencer walks into the office and sees you at your desk. You know he’s here because the chatter gets quiet. Your coworkers are curious to see how this is going to play out. Derek and Emily think Spencer is going to stay strong and stand his ground while JJ and Rossi think he’s going to fold because you have this man wrapped around your finger even if you don’t see it.
Spencer walks past him but you don’t look at him or even acknowledge his presence. He waits for you to say something. When you don’t, he gets a little annoyed with you.
“Really? You’re giving me the silent treatment?” You don’t give him a response. “Okay, fine. I’ll play your games.”
You grab some files and make your way to Penelope’s office without a look back at him. She swirls her chair around to greet you, a big smile on her face.
“What are you smiling about?”
“You’ve come to the right person.”
“I didn’t even say anything.”
“I heard you and Spencer are fighting.”
“I’m fine. There’s no fighting because there’s nothing to talk about. He doesn’t see me as an equal and doesn't want to consider what I have to say. What is there to talk about?” you shrug and hand her some files to work with.
“So, you’re not going to be an adult and have an adult conversation?”
“No,” you wink and leave her office.
The only way you’re going to talk to Spencer is if it’s about work. He thought you were going to give in and apologize after the first day, but you’ve been this way all week. You’re at work before he gets up, you don’t greet him anymore, and you still sleep in the guest room. By the end of the week, you realize you were wrong about how to handle the unsub. Spencer’s plan was the right one. He knew how the unsub was going to behave and made a plan based on that while you based your plan on how to subdue him easily.
The last thing you’re going to do is tell him he’s right.
Now, it’s a game of how long you can do this to him before he breaks. Everyone, including Spencer, knows he’ll be the first one to break even if he doesn’t want to admit it. You’re very good at getting your way, and this is no different. Spencer can tell the shift in energy from you being genuinely pissed at him to doing it on purpose. He knows you too well to know that you’re only doing this to be petty.
He told himself to not go without speaking to or kissing you, but it’s proving to be a lot harder. His love language is touch and he’s craving yours. He hasn’t kissed you in over a week and he’s getting desperate. Like admitting-he-was-wrong desperate.
You have Friday off since you requested it off a month ago, but Spencer was called into work for a few hours to help with something. You’re sitting on the couch reading a book when he walks in. He debates on speaking to you knowing full well you won’t speak to him back. How long can you go like this? You’ll have to speak to him at some point.
He sighs and walks out of the front door to get to work, and you watch him go to the car. He gets in the front seat and starts the car, but he doesn’t drive off. He grips the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles turn white. You wonder what he’s thinking. He looks behind him as if he is going to reverse but gets out of the car instead. He storms back into the house, and you immediately pretend like you were reading this whole time. 
Spencer walks over to you, grips your hair tightly but not tight enough to hurt, tips your head back, and kisses you. The book falls from your hand as you kiss him back. This kiss holds a week’s worth of sexual tension. When he gets back from work, you know he’s going to take you to the bedroom for the rest of the day. He slides his tongue into your mouth and massages yours, leaving you wanting more.
When he feels you leaning into him, he pulls away with a smirk. Without saying a word, he leaves the house and this time, he actually leaves the driveway. People say he’s wrapped around your finger when really, you’re wrapped around his.
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Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)
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vivwritesfics · 3 months
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can you write something where lando’s gf has a bad migraine and he takes care of her? thanks!!
as someone who suffers from insanely shitty migraines wayyyyy too often I jumped at this one
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There comes a point where you have so many fucking migraines that you just give up. That, no matter how bad they get, you have to suffer through it, that you can't stop everything every few weeks because of another fucking migraine.
Lando had met her before she had given up trying to take care of her migraines. She still laid in bed with water and pain killers, with the curtains drawn and the lights off, with a cold compress against her forehead.
That was years ago. Since then she'd grown sick of the constant days in bed, feeling shitty for herself. Now, she didn't tell Lando about the migraines, didn't want him to worry about a silly little headache.
She got on with her day, went to work, and suffered through. She kept her phone turned off, since the brightness did nothing but make her feel sick. She got on with things.
Her work was so fucking slow. But she couldn't go much faster since the migraine was killing her. Her bosses and co-workers noticed. There was no point in her being there if she could barely do any work.
She drove home slowly. Thank god it was the middle of the day and the roads were pretty much empty. She pulled up outside of their apartment, got out of the car and shut the door as quietly as she could. As miserable as she was to have to go home early from work, she couldn't wait to get into bed.
Lando was in the apartment, gaming, when she walked in. He was streaming, she could tell by just how loud he was being.
Shutting her eyes for just a moment, she dropped her things by the front door and walked towards the room he was in.
The room was dark aside from the light from the monitor and the strip lighting behind him. Her head immediately pounded, but she pushed through and knocked on the door.
Immediately Lando paused his game, pulled his headset off and turned towards the door. "Baby," he said as he took in the state of her. He stood from his chair and rushed towards her, pulling her into his arms and pulling her head into his chest. "Migraine?"
"Migraine," she answered and slowly nodded.
Wrapping his arms around her, Lando walked her towards their bedroom. He sat her down onto the bed and began closing the curtains. "Get into your pyjamas, I'll get you some water," he said and kissed the top of her head.
As Lando walked to the kitchen, she sat there for just a second. With the curtains closed she finally felt better. But she got herself up and got changed out of her work clothes.
Lando returned with a glass of water and two painkillers. He pulled back at the covers and she crawled beneath. "Thank you, Lan," she whispered, but he disappeared again.
She shut her eyes. Less than a minute Later Lando returned. He pressed a cold compress to her head. "I'm gonna go and finish the stream real quick."
"Hurry back," she whispered and Lando nodded his head.
He went back to the stream just to end it. The chat was asking why, but Lando wouldn't answer. He just ended the stream and returned to his girlfriend.
Lando was so considerate. He climbed into bed with her and pulled her close, letting her rest against his chest. Lando knew he snored, so he made a point to stay awake until she was fast asleep. Even then, he was hesitant. His priority was her, was to make sure she was happy and comfortable.
He loved her through her migraines.
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barcaatthemoon · 1 month
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closing the distance || alexia putellas x reader ||
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you surprise alexia with your transfer to barcelona.
alexia looked absolutely adorable as she laid in bed. the two of you usually facetimed each other for a little while after your respective trainings. it wasn't uncommon for you to just be sitting in your car while you spoke to her, so she didn't question anything in the background.
"hi baby," you greeted alexia. her lips curled into a smile at the term of endearment. the two of you were alone, which meant that alexia didn't have to act so serious. "how did you sleep?"
"as well as i can without you next to me. when will you be down for a visit? i've been missing you," alexia said. you were surprised that she hadn't been whining and pouting a lot more. usually, she threw a little fit until you slotted her into your schedule. alexia was very needy, which had surprised you whenever the two of you first got together.
"soon, very soon. that's actually why i'm calling you right now. i thought that you'd want to know before the news actually breaks." alexia sat up in her bed, knowing exactly what you were talking about already. the two of you had already been through several conversations about your transferring once your contract was up. a lot of the girls had been sad to see you go, especially stina and frida, but you needed to be closer to alexia.
the two of you had been together for a long time, already having lived together for short stints of time whenever you were still living in spain. your transfer to arsenal had nearly destroyed your relationship, and if it wasn't for alexia's spanish teammates talking some sense into her, you knew that it would be nonexistent. however, now the two of you were approaching a few years together, and the natural progression of things to you felt like marriage, which you knew alexia would only agree to if you moved to barcelona with her.
"i want to hear you say it," alexia said.
"it's not official yet, i have to sign the contract first," you told her. alexia's face fell for a moment, but only until you spoke up again. "that's what i was trying to tell you. i'm in barcelona for a bit, and i was wondering if i could stay with you for the week."
"you don't have to ask, this is your home too," alexia told you. you smiled as you moved to get out of your car, which was the first time that alexia realized you weren't in london anymore. "are you outside of apartment building?"
"i am. i had my last practice last week," you told her. alexia dropped her phone as she ran out to see you. you laughed to yourself as you hung up and slipped your phone into your bag. within a minute, alexia was running out to the parking lot and nearly tackling you in a hug. "ale!"
"te amo-," alexia pressed a kiss to your cheek, "-i have missed you, mi amor."
"i missed you too, baby." alexia lifted you up off of the ground in her arms. she set you down gently, pressing several kisses all over your cheeks. you laughed from the sensation of her lips tickling your skin slightly. "let me grab my suitcase and we can go up together."
"don't bother, i've got it," alexia said confidently. you rolled your eyes at her, but let her grab your bags anyway. "i can't believe that you're moving back in with me. we can eat breakfast together, go out for lunches, and i can show you all of my mami's recipes. i don't care about anything other than catching up with you this week. i'm keeping you all to myself."
"you can have me until i sign my contract. i did promise mapi that we'd go out for drinks if i ever came back to barcelona," you reminded alexia. it had been one of the only ways for you to convince the defender to let you go. you had been a good friend of hers at athletico when you had played there together, and she was almost worse than alexia about the idea of losing you.
"i am sure that i can convince you to stay in with me." alexia wiggled her eyebrows and flexed a little. as silly as you found her sometimes, the flexing was unfortunately extremely attractive to you. it was alexia's surefire distraction, and she knew it.
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cosmal · 1 year
Note
ooooh poly!marauders who are really in tune with their s/o's emotions, even when she tries to hide them? like maybe they're out for a meal or at a party and she gets overwhelmed and they just realise straight away and bring her out of the setting? i love them soooo much
in the car
summary the boys take you home when you get overwhelmed at a party.
content poly!marauders x fem!reader
note omg first poly!m blurb. sorry it kinda sucks :[
You sit on a retaining wall in Marlene's backyard and try to focus on her pretty flowers instead of feeling so anxious. You haven't spoken to anyone in twenty minutes, not even the boys, and you've really tried your best not to put such a damper on the night.
They're having a lot of fun, you know they've had a tiring week and everyone hasn't been together in a long time so you won't ruin anything for them.
You pick at your nails and chew on the ice in your drink to keep your mind distracted. You thought you could handle it tonight, you hoped you wouldn't get as overwhelmed as you were expecting. You'd felt anxious before you even left, you thought seeing your friends might've helped.
You're too busy staring a hole through your glass to notice James sitting next to you. You startle when he speaks and bite your lip at your error.
"Hey, sweetheart," he says softly and ignores your jump. You feel a little pathetic.
"James," you sigh. You can't look him in the eye.
"Ready to go?" he clasps and hand to your shoulder and does that stupid, toothy grin he knows you love.
"What? We just got here." It feels like it's been hours. It's been one at most.
"Yeah, I know." He stands back up and hovers over you. It's almost irritating how pretty he looks. He doesn't make any of this any easier. You feel awful for ruining their night. "You look so sad, honey. We thought we'd go home."
"I can Uber if you want." You regret it before you even say it.
"What? No, don't be so silly." Yeah. Expected.
"I don't wanna leave just cause of me. I'm fine, don't worry."
James doesn't let you mope any longer. "No, c'mon, up."
"James..."
"It's okay," he takes your hand to encourage you, smiling, "really. I wanna leave anyway." Then much quieter, "Frank's tryna get me drunk."
You let him lift you up and fall into his side where you feel you belong. You feel half-relieved already, despite feeling selfish. "Where're the others?"
"Sirius went to get the car,'' he grabs your hand and leads you through the side gate. "I think Remus went with him."
You're not sure why you feel so blindsided by this all. Most of the time they're so intuned with you, they know when you're overwhelmed or just having a bad time. You're the same with them. You rub Remus's shoulders before without him telling you they're sore, you call James when you know he's having a bad day after he messages you, and you hug Sirius before he tells you he wants a cry.
You step out onto the pavement and find Sirius pulled up with Remus, waiting for you and James. You feel bad for ditching but not as much as so when they look so happy to see you. "What if I'd convinced you to stay? They would've been out here all night, probably," you ask before you get to the car.
"Wouldn't have worked." He opens your door for you.
You slide along the back seat for James to sit next to you and are welcomed by a lovely warmth. James gets in too and you think he wants to click you in as well but decides against it.
"You okay, lovely?" Remus asks from the passenger seat, he twists around to look you over and you feel bare.
"I'm okay," you say softly. "Hasn't Sirius been drinking?"
Sirius snorts from behind the wheel. "I've had two, don't worry, lovely."
You know you're deflecting, you suspect as soon as Sirius also asks if you're okay, you might cry. Your throat feels thick with an upset that feels worse now in a contained space. This is half the reason you wanted to leave on your own. Not that being surrounded by your boys when you're upset is bad, just might've been easier to steel yourself.
You reach a hand down on the seat between you and James and scrunch it tight. He unclicks himself and sides over to you. He gets an arm around your shoulder and encourages you into his side, as much as your seatbelt will allow.
"You okay?" Sirius dangerously whips his head back to look at you, pouting.
The first tear dribbles down your cheek.
You hide your face in James's firm shoulder and shake your head. He tuts and cages your head in with a big hand. Your tears are hot and slow, marring James's pretty shirt. You hope you don't turn messy with it. He looks good.
James murmurs something like, "Hurry up, Sirius." The car roars.
You feel the car slow at a red light and peel yourself away from James's chest. Face wet and hot, your hair stuck to your cheeks. "Shit, I'm sorry," you curse and wipe your face with a rough hand. James's arm stays around your shoulder.
"Hey, it's okay, yeah?" Remus uses his long arm to grab your knee. He squeezes firmly and it feels nice. You hope you're close to home, you want to hug Sirius as well. He looks similarly worked up.
"I'm sorry I made us leave," you sniffle.
"You didn't make us do anything," James says, voice as firm as he can manage. "We don't mind. It's just...you gotta tell us if you're not feeling good, okay? We might be able to prevent these pretty eyes from crying." He uses the side of his finger to wipe under your watery eyes, brushing over your clumped eyelashes. You blink slowly.
"I didn't want to ruin-"
"You didn't ruin anything," Sirius interrupts, "We just want to make sure you're okay."
He steals another look at you. You nod gently. "Yeah."
"Remus was complaining to me, anyways," James says, smug. "Said I looked so good that he wanted to take me home."
You start to laugh, much to the boy's pleasure. "Really?"
"Yeah," James nods, "Said he wanted to - and I quote - jump my bones."
Remus looks incensed. You're just happy the teasing isn't on your behalf for once. "Whatever, James."
"You do look pretty, James," you say, still sidled up to him, "I don't blame him."
He squeezes you hard. and laughs, pleased you're feeling better. "I'm sure Remus'll be telling me all night how good this shirt looks on me."
"It does!"
"Okay, James's head might explode," Sirius says. He'd looked just as in love all night, you'd seen it.
"Woah!"
You sit back and watch your boys fight over stupid things. You think you could do it for the rest of your life if they allowed it. You're sure they'd make a fool of themselves over and over if it made you happy.
Sirius catches you staring. "Feeling a little better?"
You nod, pleased, but embarrassed to be caught. "Yeah."
"Good." You must be almost home.
"Hey, Sirius?" you say softly.
"Yeah, lovely?" He might crash if he keeps turning to look at you like that.
"Can we stop at McDonald's?" you ask softly, even softer eyes like he'd ever say no.
"Yeah, sounds good. Remus needs a happy meal."
-
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arminsumi · 7 months
Note
we've had ex geto... but what about ex gojo?
YOUR FAVORITE EX
↳ GOJO さとる + fem!reader
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Note : ooo... ex gojo 🤤 hope u likey
Warnings : 🔞 minors do not read/interact : contains smut/explicit content, kinda toxic themes, some angst, baby trapping, pregnancy, dirty talk, unprotected sex + creampies, possessiveness
Playme : streets
🍒 More from Jay : Gojo works / Gojo fave works / JJK works / oct. reqs open
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Ex!Gojo makes the break up everyone's business. And of course it's you breaking up with his obnoxious, overdramatic ass. Multiple times, too. You two have broken up so many times in fact that your friends just don't take it seriously anymore when you announce "We're breaking up". That just means "We're getting back together in two weeks (lol)."
Ex!Gojo pulls the "I can't find anyone like you" and the "Aw, don't be like that, baby" cards on you.
Ex!Gojo claims to be your favorite ex. Yeah you hate him... buuut he's still your favorite... right? Right? He'll nag you to admit it. It makes his heart flutter and ego swell bigger than his head.
Ex!Gojo is a menace, always deterring your potential new lovers and declining dates on your behalf. He gives you a stupid excuse with that cheeky smirk, "What? It's not like they could love you better than me, anyways. I'm the best. Don't waste your time. Just come back to me, yeah? You know my arms are still open to you."
Ex!Gojo doesn't act like an ex at all. He still kisses you. Still hugs you. Invites you for every party. Visits your apartment at 2 AM when he's drunk and rambles to you about all the crazy things he always rambled about at 2 AM. And you don't treat him like an ex because... his kisses put you in a trance. Then you realize oh, we're broken up, what the hell.
Ex!Gojo clings to your body and holds it with the same possessiveness that he always used to. He places his big hand on your hip and grips it tight, especially at parties. "Stay close to me."
Ex!Gojo taunts you during those late-night hatefucks, "You missed this fat cock fucking up your guts, huh? I know you did. Don't you fucking lie to me." while he's balls deep in you, skin slapping loudly against yours in the backseat of his car. He just kindly offered you a drive home, and then one thing led to another and you ended up on his lap having his big hands moving your hips up and down. "That's it, admit how much you missed me 'n bounce on this cock, baby. Admit it."
Ex!Gojo fucks you harder when he's your ex, making sure you're super full and stuffed with his cock. He loves molding your tiny hole to accommodate his shape, hitting your sweet spots with mean pounding thrusts until you scream those three little words for him. "I miss you!" he smiles when he hears this, presses his forehead to yours and coos while cumming inside, "Missed you too, baby. Missed this pussy. You know it's m-mine forever, don't you? No one can fuck you better than I can..." and it's true, no one knows the map of your sweet spots and erogenous zones better than he does. He's masterful at pleasuring you.
Ex!Gojo cums inside you more than he did while you two were dating. Who knows why. Seems like his animalistic, primal brain kicked in and he thought well if I put a baby in you... you'll have a piece of me forever. You'll have to come back to me. And his seed is potent. You bet you're getting pregnant. He has the wolfiest smile when you bitterly show him the pregnancy test. "Ooh, baby I'm so proud of that little pussy for getting pregnant. Let's have a celebratory fuck."
Ex!Gojo knows that no matter where you go, he'll always find you. His high school sweetheart. His five year girlfriend. The mother of his child. The only woman that's ever had such a strong hold on him. The only one he's ever been weakened by.
Ex!Gojo cries sometimes after creaming up inside your pussy, "Please come back... I miss you so bad..." and starts sobbing like a puppy into the crook of your neck when you run your fingers through his snowy hair.
Ex!Gojo feels his broken heart get pieced back together when you finally return to him. And just like that, he slots half his soul into yours. "Baby... you're the best thing this world ever gave me. Just let me marry you, please..."
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© arminsumi
Do not plagiarize / repost / translate / copy layouts / etc.
Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.
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astraystayyh · 10 months
Text
If the world was ending
Felix x reader. Estranged childhood best friends to lovers. Angst and happy ending. highly recommend listening to If the world was ending while reading :)
Felix has always been there with you, from the moment you've met him when you were 8 years old, until he suddenly no longer was, and you were left to grapple with the consequences of his absence- and those of his return.
cw: description of a car accident, reader has a fear of loud noises.
skz song series masterlist
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12 march 2011 
Screeching brakes, a jarring collision, glass shattering all around you, shards of it embedding into your tender skin. You are too young to understand it all, but you know it's bad. You are suddenly upside down, the only thing helping you stay put is the seatbelt fastened around you. You didn't really like seatbelts but your mom always insisted on you wearing one.
Your mom, you can't see her face, she's upside down too, and she isn't talking. That's unusual because you're crying and she isn't turning around to comfort you. Someone is screaming outside of your car, and then you are pulled out. You don't know who's touching you, and you want them to stop. Where is your mom? Why did they not pull her out too?
An ambulance approaches you; its loud sirens feel like pine needles drilling into your skull. You try to cover your ears but your hands are covered in blood. The world around you is painted red- the flashing lights of the sirens and the liquid oozing from your cuts. It’s no longer your favorite color.
27 may 2011 
You are playing in the playground near your home, waving at your mom from the top of the slide. She's gotten better, she smiles more easily at you now. And you are trying to be a good kid too; you help wash the dishes and you clean your room all by yourself. You don't want your mom to feel sad again and go back to that dreaded hospital. 
You slide out, happy giggles leaving your mouth, before climbing up the tiny stairs once again. But as you reach the top, an ambulance rushes by the playground. You don't know what's happening, but you suddenly feel shards of glass on your skin once again. Your hands are shaking as you sit on the floor, curling around yourself in a ball.  
"What's wrong?" someone asks and you lift your head tentatively. It's a young boy, he's looking at you worriedly, a tiny pout on his lips. 
"I don't like ambulances," you hiccup, burying your head in your knees again. 
Suddenly, small hands cover your ears, muffling the shrill sound of sirens. They are warm and sticky from the red popsicle he’s still holding.
"Now you can't hear them," he giggles, his eyes disappearing into moon crescents. Despite your raging fear, a smile finds its way into your lips.
"What's those on your face," you ask with a small voice, pointing at the faint marks dusting his cheeks. 
"They're called freckles," he says proudly and you nod. 
"They're pretty."
"Thank you!" he grins at you, his hands still covering your ears. The tightness in your chest seems to dissipate slowly before his kind smile- the shadows never stood a chance in front of the sun. 
"What's your name?" 
"Felix. And you?"
"Yn." 
"We should be friends," he beams and you grin back, agreeing wholeheartedly. "We should." 
15 november 2021 
You are sitting on the grass of that very same playground, Felix still by your side. The night breeze is cooling as it brushes against your bodies, and you're wearing his red sweater. It smells like his cologne and your perfume- an intoxicating scent you've come to memorize by heart. 
His nose tip is rosy from the cold, and you can't resist tapping it playfully. "Your nose is pink," you giggle, and he smiles, gently bopping yours in return. 
"So is yours."
You look at him as he gazes up at the stars above. You love Felix, it has always been crystal clear to you. From the moment he planted the seed of his friendship into your soul, and throughout the years when it bloomed into something more, bigger than the two of you. It wrapped around your being entirely, binding itself into your every atom, until all you saw is his reflection in you. 
And you were tired of treading the line between friendship and something more. You wanted, no craved being with him, your yearning so intense it spilled from you each time he was around. In rosy cheeks and shaky fingers and eyes that soften only when they rest on him- evidence of your love imprinted all upon you. 
You take in a deep breath, before laying your hand gently on his cheek, turning his face to meet yours. His eyes widen slightly at the soft touch, and you lean in closer to him. You brush your nose against his, slowly, "to warm it up," you whisper, as his breath hitches in his throat. 
He's close, he's so close, you can almost taste the brownies you shared earlier on his lips. You can see his freckles ever so clearly, constellations you often find yourself getting lost in. Your hand is still on his cheek, and you can feel it burning up under your palm. 
You close your eyes, as his lips are now just a breath away from yours. It's electrifying- having him so near to the way you've always dreamed, fantasized about. But he needs to be the one to take the jump, all he has to do is lean in a bit, and you'd kiss him. You won't ever let go. 
"Lixie...," you choke out, "kiss me." 
"I want to." His voice is hoarse with emotion, as if fighting with himself for self-restraint. 
"So do it," you ask, swiping your thumb gently across his cheek. Your breaths mingle with one another in a dizzying dance. 
"I'm leaving," he says so faintly, you believe for a second that you've imagined it. 
"What?" you ask, leaning a bit away to be able to look at him. 
"I'm leaving," he repeats, his eyes tightly shut. "We're moving to another country, for my dad's job." 
"You're leaving me?" you ask, bewildered. 
"I'm not leaving you-"
"But you are. You won't be here anymore." You drop your hand, taking hurried steps away from him. Touching him didn't feel electrifying anymore, it felt horrible and nauseous, because you won't get to do it again. 
"I'm sorry, I didn't want to-" 
"How long have you known?" 
"Yn..."
"Felix," you say, tone stern. "How long?" 
"Six months," he whispers and a bitter chuckle escapes your lips.
"When are you leaving?"
"In a week." 
The pain becomes unbearable, and you turn your back to him so he wouldn't see your rapidly falling tears. You are angry, as a disguise for the sadness threatening to drown you. Him leaving tasted like the salty water you gulp when you dive in too quickly into the ocean. And you did dive in, in him, in his soul and everything that made up Felix. And now he was leaving you, with no anchor to help you float again.
"Is that why you insisted on spending so much time with me lately? Because you were leaving?" 
"You need to understand I didn't know how to tell you, I- I don't even know who I am without you." He pleads, his own eyes shimmering with unshed tears, reminding you of tiny diamonds. That's how it is with Felix, you found beauty in everything he did- even tearing your heart in half. 
"Maybe you should've thought of how I would feel. You were thinking of leaving me while I..." Your voice breaks and you take a shaky breath.  "While I was falling in love with you." 
"I'm in love with you too," he quickly says, reaching out to hold your hand. "I love you, I always have." He's wrapping his arms around you, and you're letting him because it feels safe and secure. Because he’s still your Felix, even if he's leaving you behind. 
You wonder what you must have done in a past life, what a horrible person you could've been for the universe to treat you this cruelly. To hand you everything you've ever wanted in a silver platter, and snatch it from your hands before you could dare to grab it. 
"We'll make it work," he mumbles into your hair, placing a tender kiss on your temple. "We'll talk and we can be together."
"No, we can't. I'll just hold you back from living your new life, I can't have that." 
"Don't talk like that, please," his voice wavers, words barely managing to slip out of his mouth. Regret overtakes your body so suddenly at the thought of his lips- you shouldn't have tried to kiss him. Maybe then he wouldn't have told you he was leaving. 
"It's the truth. we'll grow to hate each other, distance will put a strain on us. I'd rather not talk to you than have you resent me." 
"But-"
"Just hold me," you cut him off. "As if nothing's happening, please." 
And he complies because Felix always does. Because he loves you and as much as he doesn't want to, he knows you're right. 
•••••
It's been three months since Felix left- the days passed by agonizingly slowly, and yet the months went by in a blur, a hauntingly vivid reminder of what once was. At first, the texts between you two were frequent, but as time wore on, the messages grew sporadic, from your end, mostly. Seeing him flourish in his new life felt like salt on an open wound, a reminder that he was moving on while you were still anchored in memories of him. 
You saw him in every corner of your city. The smell of brownies that he's made countless times, each time you felt sad. The way he kissed your cheek each time he won a game, while you were lying on his bed, bored. The way he hugged you whenever you were sick, gently tucking strands of your hair behind your ear. The way he covered your ears instinctively at each loud noise, knowing how scared it made you still. 
And you've felt each of these emotions since he was gone. You were sad and bored and sick and happy and scared. And he wasn't here with you through them. Each moment away from Felix seemed to magnify what could have been- what should have been between the two of you.
There is a building construction next to you, loud cement blocks crashing to the ground. And you are curled around yourself in a protective ball, covering your ears with your hands, because Felix isn't here to do it anymore for you. 
You and Felix have grown with one another, your soul carefully woven into his, like two threads intricately stitched into the same tapestry. Him leaving felt like half of your body was cut off from you, and you were left alone to figure out how to function with an incomplete heart. 
17 july 2023 
Summer break meant coming back home and sleeping in your childhood bedroom once again. Memories of Felix still lingered in there- posters he has given you and his red sweater that you've never found the courage to throw away. It doesn't hurt as much to remember him, the sharp pain morphed into a dull ache you've grown accustomed to by now. 
You're watching the TV mindlessly when someone knocks on your door, and you go to open it without a second thought, expecting it to be your parents. It wasn't.
"Felix?" you stammer, stumbling back in shock. You blink repeatedly, in a desperate attempt to make sure he's not a figment of your twisted imagination. You haven't uttered his name in so long, and the syllables felt both foreign and familiar in your mouth. 
"It's me," he smiles sheepishly, his hand scratching the back of his neck. 
"You are here," you whisper, stating the obvious. He didn't change much, his kind brown eyes and freckles still as captivating as before. But his features were sharper, prettier, and the sight of him is making you dizzy once again. 
"I am." 
"What are you doing here?" You ask cautiously, opening the door a bit wider to let him in. 
"I requested a transfer to your university. I wanted to come back. I missed home, and I missed you," he adds softly, making a turmoil of emotions surge within you. 
You clear your throat. "So, you are back for good?" 
"I am," he says, smiling slightly at you as if to gauge your reaction. You stay silent and his grin falters; his tongue resting against the inside of his cheek, a habit he hasn't let go of apparently. He then walks to the kitchen and you follow suit. You don't have to show him around, he knows your home like the back of his hand. He spent most of his childhood here after all, even though his house was only a few blocks away. 
"How have you been?" he asks as he opens the cupboard to take out a glass. He closes its door softly, careful not to make it thud. 
"I'm good. It's summer break so I'm finally back home, what about you?"
"I'm good too. It's nice to be back." 
Your conversation is strained and awkward, so unnatural of you both. There was so much to say, so much to ask about, but you couldn't bring yourself to speak. He felt like uncharted territory to you now, one you didn't have the strength to discover once again.
"It's your mom's birthday tomorrow, right?" he smiles and you nod. 
"Should we make her our cookies? Like we used to before I..." 
"Before you left," you finish, bitterness dripping from your tone.
Hurt flashes in his eyes and you feel your heart suddenly clench in your chest. It was unfair for you to treat him this way. He was only seventeen and if your parents were to move away you would've followed them too. 
"Okay, let's do it." You smile sincerely for the first time since he came back to you. 
You both move seamlessly in the kitchen, each knowing your tasks like a choreographed dance. This was a tradition that started when you were twelve years old. You'd brown the butter while he beat the egg and sugar together. He'd sift the flour while you cut up chocolate. He'd mix it all while you preheat the oven. And then you'd roll the dough together. 
Your hands brush against one another as you shape up the cookies, and it feels so intense you almost drop to the floor. You miss him, you miss him so much and he's near you and you can't seem to think straight anymore. 
When the cookies are finally in the oven, he silently washes the dishes while you dry them. He abruptly pauses, hands still covered in soap before turning back to you. 
"Can we talk? Please?" he says too quickly as if he's been overthinking asking this question. 
"I'm busy today," you scramble to think of an excuse, you weren't ready to face him yet. 
"Tomorrow?"
"I'm staying with my mom, then there is Han’s party."
"I'll be there too. We can talk then, please?" he asks, eagerness evident in his voice. 
"Fine. Let's talk there," you concede and he nods, awkwardly shifting in his place. He finishes the dishes before drying his hands. You avoid his gaze and he sighs softly. "I'll get going. Tell your mom happy birthday from me." 
"Will do." You smile tightly and he does the same, before finally leaving your home, and in his trail, a maelstrom of emotions you weren't certain how to deal with.
18 july 2023 
You're at the reunion party Han is hosting with all your high school friends. You watch as Felix takes turns talking to everybody. He fits right in here, a puzzle perfectly clicking in place as if he's never left. He's telling a joke to Chan who laughs loudly, hitting Minho's arm repeatedly. Everyone is happy he's back, because they never had to gravel with the consequences of his absence. Because he's never ripped their heart out. 
Felix is looking for you around the room- he hasn't seen you in a while. He assumes you're somewhere around the house, and that you'd like to talk when time has passed. The knot in his stomach tightens as the weight of your conversation dawns on him, he longs to be with you, to undo the past two years he has spent away from you. But he's afraid to mess everything up, once again, so he stays near his friends who are now pulling him outside of the house.
"We have a surprise for you," Han says excitedly before pointing at the sky, "look." 
Fireworks, a dazzling show of blue, red and yellow. And Felix feels as if the colors were drained out of his face and splattered into the night sky before him.
"Where is yn?" he turns to Chan, eyes wide.
"Inside, I think. Why?"
"Stop- stop this, don't start any more fireworks," he urges the boy who's looking at him worriedly. 
"Why, what's wrong? We have a warrant to start them, don't worry."
"No, no you don't understand. Yn hates loud noises," he explains frantically, before bolting inside the house. 
He's yelling your name, and you are nowhere to be found, the sound of the fireworks so loud he isn't even sure you can hear him. 
He opens door after door, and after painstakingly long seconds he finally finds you in the bathroom, sitting on the floor, your head buried in your knees. Just like you were twelve years ago. 
Felix doesn't waste any time, kneeling in front of you to cover your ears with his hands, you look up at him, waterline brimming with unshed tears. 
"It's okay, I'm here. Just focus on my voice," he smiles reassuringly at you, and you clasp your hands on top of his, doing your best to muffle the sound of the explosions. 
"Your hands are still small," you attempt to joke, as hot tears trail down your cheeks. You hated how scared you still were. 
"The perfect size to cover your ears," he smiles at you, his eyes softening when they take in your distressed state. 
You hiccup, overcome by a new wave of emotion- for an entirely different reason this time. "You came." 
"I'll always come. Even if the world was ending, I'll... I'll come to you," he smiles, biting his lower lip to stop his own tears from falling. 
"It'd be useless if you came then. There would be nothing for us to do," you manage to say through shaky breaths. 
"But I'd be with you," he insists, gaze unwavering, "It will be scary for you. I imagine it will be loud, the world can't end silently." 
"Mine did, when you left." Felix's eyes go wide at your words, and you don't care that you are baring your soul entirely to him. "Please don't leave me again. I hate goodbyes with you." 
"Why would we ever say goodbye again, hm?" he reassures, his knuckles brushing against your cheek softly. "I'm never leaving you, as long as you'll have me, I'm here," he whispers, before pulling you into his chest.
Your hands find his back, and his cheek rests on top of your head. And you both close your eyes, an exhale of relief leaving you both at the same time. The world grows dark around the two of you, the only thing you saw was his heart and the overflowing love he still bore for you.
You felt as if you were wandering blind and you could finally see again, as if the string tying you to him wrapped tightly around the both of you, trapping you in his warm embrace.
You don't know what will happen next, but he's holding you now, and he'll hold you when the world is ending, and that is enough.
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norrisleclercf1 · 10 months
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Hi love ❤ could you maybe write something for the Mini lando Series,maybe where reader does Grocerie Shopping with Aiden and Lando stays at home with Caleb. And while they are shopping some man flirts with reader and Aiden is like THATS my mom and she only loves my daddy. And then he tells lando what happend when they are home. And lando is jelous but thinks its funny how People still trie to hit on reader even with Baby and ring on her finger.
A/N: pffffft love this, Aiden totally has his dads sass. Aiden is about 5 and Caleb is 2. This happens before you become pregnant with your 3rd child Daniel William Norris.
Warnings: Fluff and Angst, yep that's right it's not always going to be sunshine and roses, slight crude language and joke
Mini Lando Series Masterlist
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"Just, call if you need anything okay?" You ask Lando, about to run to the grocery store he waves you off. "What? Think I can't take care of my own son?" It's a teasing comment but with a tiny bite.
Taking a deep breath you have to remind your self to remain calm to his comment. "Lando, you're a capable father, I'm just saying-" You stop pursing your lips. "Whatever, forget it. Aiden! Baby, come on we're leaving!" Aiden runs down the hall smiling.
He loved going to the store with you, Caleb was about 2 and now able to talk and run around so Aiden didn't get much peace. And at 5, he was already an old man with Lando's mouth to boot.
"I'm ready! Bye daddy." Lando crouches, kissing Aiden on the cheek. "Be good for you Mom or I won't be taking you karting. Understand?" Aiden has gotten into karting, nothing serious yet. But he was a natural talent and it started to worry you.
That's why there was so much tension between you and Lando recently. "Yes, sir. I'll be good for Mom." Running to the garage, leaving you and Lando alone. "We'll talk later." Is all Lando says, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek and off to check on Caleb.
""Sure." You mumble, wanting to shake off the fog in your brain. You wanted a good day with your son and fighting with your husband wasn't going to damper that. "Mama! Come on!" Aiden yells, hurrying you to the car.
Opening the door, you help him in, strapping him into the booster seat. "Is Daddy mad?" Fingers fumble slightly with the last buckle at his question you look up. "No, baby. We're just having an adult conversation. He's not mad at you, I promise." Aiden nods, his question quickly forgotten by him but not by you.
The drive is relatively nice as you park, going over the rules again with Aiden who just nods saying "yes mom". Running into the store he grabs one of the mini buggies, making sure to copy you. The two of you giggle and talk about his karting.
Not even noticing as a man approaches you until he grabs something off the top shelf for you. "Here you go gorgeous." The guy smiles, you give a tight lip one taking the box of pasta from him. "Thanks." Aiden staring at the guy, wondering what he was doing.
"You're welcome. Can't turn down a stunning woman like you now can I? What kind of person would I be?" He chuckles moving closer, but not enough to make you uncomfortable. "One who isn't my daddy." Aiden's voice has the guy looking down, you hiding a smile as you turn.
"Excuse me little guy?" The man shocked at the little kids quip. "It's not little guy, my name is Aiden. You're not my daddy, and the only one to call Mommy pretty is Daddy." Aiden standing firm, staring the guy down. "Oh, well I don't see your daddy." Winking at you, now you're stepping in but Aiden doesn't stop.
"Daddy is busy at home with my little brother. He also drives super fast cars, the orange one. Unless you drive one like Daddy and Uncle Carlos or Uncle Pear you can't call Mommy pretty." The guy steps back, rolling his eyes. "Whatever." And walks off leaving you in shock.
"Aiden Carlos." Your voice calm, Aiden looks down. He knew he shouldn't have done that. His mommy could handle herself but...daddy always told him to protect mommy when he wasn't there. "Are you going to tell Daddy?" He knew he did wrong, talking back to a stranger unaware of what he could do.
"No, you will." Sighing you head to check out. "Mommy?" Aiden's voice soft as you two drive back. "Yes?" Aiden sniffles kicking his little feet. "I was just doing what Daddy does for you." He whispers, eyes looking in the rearview mirror you catch Aiden's head down.
"What do you mean baby?" Confused by that. "Daddy always protects Mommy, and Uncle Carlos said since I'm the oldest I have to protect you and Caleb when Daddy isn't here. I'm sorry." Sniffling again, reaching back you squeeze his little leg.
"My little boy. You don't need to do that. When you're bigger and older, sure. But you're still my little baby, it's my job to protect you." Aiden smiles, nodding as you pull into the garage.
The garage door opens, showing Caleb being held by Lando who laughs as Lando blows raspberries on his stomach. "Mama!" Caleb giggles, Aiden jumping out and running inside.
"Something happen?" Lando asks, you nod. Lando just nods sucking in his cheeks placing Caleb down. "I'll go talk to him." Caleb carrying light bags of groceries inside happy to help.
Lando walks to his eldest son's room, poking his head in not seeing Aiden he goes to second best spot. "Bubs?" Lando calls pushing open his office door, Aiden staring at all the trophies, helmets, and pictures.
"I thought I told you to be good?" Lando sighs, crouching to be eye level with the boy sitting in the desk chair. "I was, but a stranger was calling Mommy names and I protected her just like you and Uncle Carlos always say to do." Aiden whines, for such a little boy he sure did have mature emotions.
Anger fuels Lando hearing this, he has to take a couple deep breaths before asking his next question. "What kind of names, bubs? It's okay you can tell me." Lando comforts him, Aiden's curls bouncing back to place from Lando's fingers.
"They kept calling Mommy pretty, and doing what you do." Lando blinks, the anger shaping into jealousy. A guy was hitting on you? With his ring on your finger and in front of his child? Okay, this could be worse.
Lando having to talk himself down. "Aiden, you have to let Mommy handle that until your bigger, understand?" Aiden nods, staring at a picture of you, Aiden, and him holding a trophy. "Can we still kart?" Lando smirks, ruffling his hair. "Yeah, go get dressed." Aiden running off.
Lando stands, taking in the pictures. First date, Wedding, His first WDC, your entire life together was here. Yet he was still feeling jealous? He hated it. Walking back, he sees Caleb watching bluey holding his stuffed koala given to him by Oscar.
"Y/n?" You poke your head around the corner, Lando walks into the kitchen kicking the standout the door swinging closed. "A guy hit on you?" Voice calm, but even you could hear the lace of anger.
"Yes, but it was handled, by our 5-year-old. Apparently, you and Carlos have put in his head he's allowed to do that." You hiss, angry at the fact that your son could've been put in harm's way. "Y/n, that's not the point here, a guy hit on you." His temper fizzles out quickly as he laughs.
"What is so damn funny? This isn't funny!" You snap, pushing his shoulder as Lando just laughs. "This fucker hit on you, while you wear my ring. My child was next to you, and I'm here acting like a jealous teenager." He laughs harder shaking his head at his own actions.
"I felt threatened when I'm the one who married you, the one who is the father of two gorgeous boys. And," He steps closer, wrapping an arm around your waist pulling you into his chest. "The one who gets to fill you every night." You slap a hand over his mouth, feeling the smirk on your palm.
"Are you crazy! The kids could hear." Anger slipping too as you roll your eyes. "M swommy." Words muffled you drop your hand. "What?" "I'm sorry. About our fight recently and now, this. Just, ever since we had Aiden; I've been worried about your safety and the kids. Now I understand what Fernando and the others felt over their kids and partners." Lando wraps you in a hug.
"Lando, I love you. But, if you ever tell our child to do that again. I'm slicing your balls." Lando snorts shaking his head. "You love my balls to much." You shove him away as he laughs loudly.
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woso-dreamzzz · 2 months
Text
Youth Team III
Hardersson x Teen!Reader
Part of The Big Adventures Universe
Summary: You have a bad game
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You stared down at your gloved hands with a frown, like you couldn't quite believe that you missed it.
You should have caught it but one of Scotland's strikers came barrelling towards you and trapped your hand between her shoulder and the goalpost.
Your fingers throbbed badly and you just managed to block another shot but by a bare brush of your gloves. Your fingers pulsed with pain and you grit your teeth.
It was official.
You were having a bad game, by your standards at least.
Letting one goal past you could take but two were unacceptable. Your saves were sloppy and your footwork even worse. Your defence was having an off day too so there was nowhere to hide.
The armband around your bicep felt like a weight rather than a privilege as you struggled to keep the ball out of your net.
By the time the first half finished, you were disappointed in yourself, a pit deep in your stomach. Letting two goals past you felt like the end of the world. It felt like everything was going wrong and it was all made worse when you tugged off your gloves.
Two of your fingers were purple and swollen.
It made sense why they were throbbing now.
They were both curled over as well and felt stiff. You try to straighten them out and wince, biting down on the inside of your cheek.
No.
This can't be happening.
You hide them under your shirt. If anyone saw then they would take you off. If they took you off then you wouldn't be able to redeem yourself.
Your mothers were in the crowd. You were wearing the captain's armband.
You didn't want Momma to see her daughter being taken out of the game.
You dig around in your bag, pulling out a popsicle stick that moster Frido gave you for emergencies and a roll of medical tape. You shove the stick between your two fingers and wind the tape around them, forcing them to straighten out.
They pulse in protest but you pop a painkiller and grit your teeth.
It's harder to play with two fingers in one finger hole but you're coping and no one seems to notice.
Your defence is still in shambles and you yell at them to get their act together. You're not really a yeller. You don't like to bark orders but you're getting desperate.
Usually, you can allow your defence to be a bit messy but you're not on form and you need them to start pulling their weight.
They don't and the ball skims your finger as you push it away.
"Organise yourselves!" You snap, your frustration bubbling up as your fingers throb in protest," Stop playing like children!"
This is one of the worst games of your life.
Your defence might as well be making daisy chains. Your midfielders keep losing possession and your forwards have grown complacent with your one goal lead.
You're not doing much better either.
None of your saves are smart. You're desperate to keep your measly lead even as your fingers throb and your armband feels tighter and tighter every minute you wear it.
The win leaves a bitter taste in your mouth when the final whistle is blown and you can't help but ignore your defensive line in an attempt to not blow up at them.
Your fingers look terrible as you shower and change, shoving your hand into your hoodie pocket so you don't have to look at your failure.
Your mothers are waiting outside in the car and the rain pelting the windows only seems to make your mood worse.
"A few close calls, huh, princesse?"
It's clear Morsa is trying to laugh this off but you don't want her to talk so you stubbornly plug your earphones in and turn them up until your mothers can hear it too.
You stay silent until you get home.
A win is a win but this is the last game of this international break and you can't help but feel angry at it all. Your flight back to Sweden is tomorrow and you've got two days of rest before you're back at training again.
"Have we got ice?"
It's the first words you've spoken since you left the changing room and your Momma raises a brow.
"Why do you need some?"
You show her your finger and the hasty splint you made.
"Princesse...What happened?"
"I don't want to talk about it," You reply, turning your head away so you don't have to make eye contact.
Momma looks like she wants to say more but she ends up just shaking her head and going off to find some ice.
Morsa throws your phone at you. "Call Zećira," She says.
"What?"
"Call Zećira. You're upset. You didn't play as well as you hoped. We can't help so call Zećira."
Morsa doesn't give you much of a choice and you dial the number.
"Hey, what's up?"
"Hi..." Your voice is moody and sullen as Morsa stands in front of you with her arms crossed.
"Well, that doesn't sound good. Rough game?"
You look down at your bruised fingers. "Something like that?"
Zećira hums on the other line. "Did you try your best?"
"I guess..."
"That's not an 'I guess' question," She chides," I'm not asking if you were the very best today. I'm not asking if you played in your best form. But, for how you were feeling today, did you try your best?"
"Yes."
"Then that's all that matters."
"How many did they score past you?" Zećira asks," Come on, how many?"
"Two."
"Two goals isn't much in the grand scheme of things. How many did Denmark get?"
"Three."
"You didn't lose," Zećira says," And you tried your best. What else happened?"
"I hurt my fingers. They're all purple and...I didn't get them checked out."
"Put ice on them and get them checked as soon as you're back in Sweden, okay? I've got money placed on those hands winning a World Cup. You've got to keep them safe."
That shocks a laugh out of you. "I will."
"Good. Listen, you're still young. You're allowed to have off days. It's okay."
You sigh. "Things were easier when it was just as in the park."
Zećira laughs too. "I hope you remember those times when you're lifting the World Cup as a captain."
You scoff.
"I'm serious," She says," Maybe not your first World Cup but definitely one of them. I can see it."
"Whatever you say."
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