I LOVE OMGGG
I LOVE OMGGG
Ex at Christmas
violet "vi" x female reader — 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
summary: christmas is just around the corner, and you've been invited to spend them with your ex-girlfriend's family. only one problem is that your ex-girlfriend has not told anyone that the relationship is over. (requested by anon) warnings/themes: fluff and angst, found family af, fake dating, ex lovers, christmas, family gatherings, secret santa, everyone is alive and happy au, modern au vi just begging for you to take her back? words: 17.8k.... (i got carried away) notes: it's so long i should've cut it into parts but idk where... so suffer (╥﹏╥)
As always, the last drop is a lively spot. warm, cozy, and familiar. Colorful lights hang from the ceiling, a decorated tree stands in the corner, a 'merry christmas' painted on the wall, even a few strings of garland have been hung from the low ceiling.
People are crowding around the bar. Some are playing pool, some are simply chatting amongst themselves, cigarette smoke curling up toward the ceiling.
Vander's voice snaps you from your thoughts. “Look who finally showed her face around here.” He reaches over the top of the bar to ruffle your hair.
“I know, I know,” you laugh, swatting his hand away. “Things are just... busy, y'know?”
Vander rests his forearms on the countertop, leaning closer to you. “Just making sure you're still alive. 'Been an awful long while since I last saw you.”
“I've been fine, old man.”
“Glad to hear you're doing alright kid. Haven't seen you around here in, what, three months? You need to come by more often, keep an old guy company,” he chuckles. “I almost thought you'd vanished.”
“You sound like a grandma with kids that never call.”
Vander grins and winks at you, taking a rag and wiping at the bartop. “You're like a kid to me, so I guess it checks out.”
You scoff but say nothing, leaning against the bartop as your eyes start to travel across the room. A few people mill about that you recognize as regular patrons, but other than that, there's pretty much no one of interest.
Vander snorts and lifts the rag to his shoulder. “We're having our christmas gathering again this year, you should swing by. Just like last christmas, eh?”
A lot has changed for you in the past month, and you've been dreading this coming up. “I... don't know. I don't think so.”
Vander raises an eyebrow. “What do you mean you don't know? Not up to seeing the old gang again?”
“Not exactly,” you murmur, the memory of the breakup is still fresh. It's not that you don't want to see your friends, it's just the idea of seeing Vi again.
You sigh, running a hand through your hair. “It's not that, I just... things have changed, especially recently. I don't want to... accidentally make things awkward or something.”
Vander shakes his head and it almost seems like he's laughing at you. “Why would it be awkward?”
“I don't know…” You sigh, your shoulders slumping in resignation. “Nevermind it, I'm going.”
Your words get a smirk out of Vander, and he reaches over to poke your arm. “That's what I like to hear,” he gives you a wink, folding his arms across his chest. “You better show up or I'll drag you here myself. You know I could.”
“Like I'd let you drag me here, old man—there's no way your back can handle that.”
“Ah, you kids these days have no respect for your elders. You're gonna break my old back and then I'll die,” he pretends to sniffle, making you scoff.
Silco then walks over, looping his arms around Vander's shoulders. The two of them exchange a knowing glance before Silco turns his attention to you. “Look who actually decided to show up.”
Vander laughs as he pats Silco's arm. “Cut the kid some slack. They're just here to have a good time.”
Silco chuckles, his eyes still on you. “So are you coming on Christmas?”
You almost sigh as Silco brings up the party again. You rub at the back of your neck, and just as you're about to answer, Vander beats you to it.
“Yeah, she's coming,” he confirms.
Silco hums, he lifts his arm from off vander, resting it in his hip instead. “Good, I was beginning to think you were going to weasel your way out of it.”
Vander smacks his shoulder. “Lay off, would ya? let the kid breathe.”
Silco relents and waves his hand dismissively. “I'm just saying,” he looks back at you. “We all want you there, you know. It wouldn't be the same without you.”
Hearing them say that makes you feel guilty for even considering not going. You know they mean it. You just hope it won't be too much awkward with Vi there.
Vander nods and smiles. “He's right, you know. Everyone's been asking about you. They'll be happy to have you there.”
“I get it. You don't have to butter me up, old man.”
Vander chuckles, then he glances over his shoulder, gesturing to a small, unassuming box on a nearby table. “Hey, could you grab that little box over there for me?” Silco smirks and nods before moving to get the box, bringing it over and handing it to Vander.
“What's in the box?” you ask.
Vander grins at you, holding the box in his hands. “We're doing a secret santa,” he explains, “and since you’re coming that means you're participating too.”
Your eyebrows raise to your hairline. You'd completely forgotten about the secret santa. You groan in annoyance, running your hands over your face. “I'm still annoyed I got that whoopee cushion from Powder last year.”
“That was a good one. She was so damn proud of herself too, and besides…” Vander pauses, turning to look at you. “You never know, you might get something less annoying this year.” He then holds the box out to you, a smile on his lips.
There's always the possibility you won't get something shitty, but knowing most of your friends... Yeah, that's unlikely.
You look at the box, then up at Vander, sighing. You take the box from him. “I hope you're right, old man.”
Vander chuckles before stepping back to talk to Silco.
You turn the box over in your hands, feeling the weight of it. It's not too heavy, and you almost feel compelled to shake it. But if you do that, you'll probably end up drawing Vander's name, and that's basically cheating.
Sighing, you decide to just bite the bullet. You take the lid off the box, sticking your hand inside. Your fingers rummage around before they eventually close around a folded piece of paper.
You pull out the slip of paper, unfolding it slowly. You glance at the handwriting, then almost roll your eyes.
Of course you got Vi.
Out of all the names you could have drawn, you get the one person you didn't want to get. You could have gotten literally anyone else. Mylo, Claggor, Powder, Silco, or anyone other than Vi. but no, you had to get your ex. Just your luck.
You look at the note again, and the first thought that comes to your mind is...
Well, crap.
You're so focused on the slip of paper in your hands that you don't notice Vander and Silco peeking over your shoulder.
“So, who'd you get?”
Vander's question makes you jump, you quickly stuff the paper into your pocket before they can see who it is.
“No one,” you say, waving your hand to dismiss the question. “It's not important.”
Silco raises an eyebrow. “Then why are you pocketing the paper?”
“It's a secret for a reason.”
Vander and Silco glance at each other, and you can tell they're silently communicating.
Vander turns back to you a moment later, rubbing his jaw. “A secret, huh? Well, that means whoever you got won't know it's you.”
Silco hums. “That's probably a good thing,” he mumbles.
“That's kind of the point of a secret Santa.”
Vander nods, scratches his beard before his lips turn up in a small smile. “True means you can give them something real nice.”
Silco glances at Vander before looking at you. “Whoever you got is probably going to be very happy when they get their gift.”
You almost snort at Silco's words. Yeah, right. a gift from you? She’ll probably chuck it straight in the trash.
You run a hand through your hair, trying to shake the thoughts of Vi out of your head. You don't know why you're worried about how she'll react. Why care if she'll like the gift? Why care if she's happy with whatever you get her?
The answer is so obvious, but you don't want to admit it even to yourself.
Vander and Silco are still looking at you, and you realize that you have to say something. Any longer and they might figure it out.
You push those thoughts away and force out a small scoff. “If they'll actually like it. I'm not the best with gifts.”
“Oh, I'm sure they will,” Silco says, an almost knowing smirk on his face.
Vander nods. “Just give them something from the heart.”
From the heart, my ass. The only thing you want to give her from the heart is a kick in the ass.
“Because someone's gonna be real happy with something from me.”
Vander and Silco exchange another look again, like they're having an entire conversation without actually saying anything.
You turn away from them, looking out the window. They're probably trying to read your mind, figure out who it is you got. The thought makes your eyes twitch. You don't want them to know. You don't know why, but you really don't want them to know.
“Just do us a favor,” Silco suddenly says, cutting into the silence that had fallen between you. “Try not to stress too hard about it. You'll give yourself gray hairs.”
Vander chuckles at Silco's words, “You'll give us an old heart attack.”
“Ha ha, funny.”
Silco grins at your response. “Well, we're only half-joking.”
Vander's eyes soften. He slaps Silco's shoulder to get him to shut up. “What he means is, you overthink too much,” Vander adds.
You almost huff. Yeah, so what if you overthink? It's a normal thing to do. especially in situations like this, where you're stuck with the one person you don't want to be.
Why keep thinking about her? You need to stop obsessing over her. She made her choice, and it wasn't you.
You run your fingers to your face, trying to think of something else to distract yourself. It's not like you don't know what you want to get Vi. You just don't know if you should get it.
“I don't overthink,” you grumble, shifting your weight on your feet.
“Oh yes, you do.”
And they're both right about that.. You can't even count how many times you've paced around your apartment, replaying every interaction you had with Vi over and over again in your head. Every word, every touch, and every look. All of it, it's like your brain refuses to let you forget.
You've spent countless nights trying to figure out where you went wrong. What you could have done differently if there was something you could have changed. All of that, just because of one person who tossed you aside without a second thought.
“Listen,” Silco suddenly says, snapping you out of your thoughts. You look over at him as he stands up straight, a smirk spreads across his lips. “You're going to drive yourself crazy thinking about something that hasn't even happened yet.”
“He's right,” Vander gives you a look before continuing. “And for the love of God, stop overthinking.”
If only it were that simple. If only you could just switch off your brain and stop thinking about everything.
But you know damn well you can't do that. Your thoughts are as uncontrollable as the weather, and right now, they're a mess.
You take a deep breath, trying to calm your thoughts.
“I should probably go,” you mutter, and the two men nod. Vander pats you on the back as you start for the door.
“Same place, eh?’ he calls after you.
“Don't think too hard, kid,” Silco adds.
You give them both a small nod as you exit the bar, shutting the door behind you.
Christmas is going to be one hell of a mess this year, you can feel it.
Now all you have to do is figure out how the hell you're going to deal with it.
—
You're standing outside of Vander and Silco’s house, the weight of the present in your hands suddenly feeling a thousand times heavier.
You've replayed this moment in your head countless times, but now that it's happening for real, you're not sure if you're ready.
Christmas music drifts out of the house, it's a familiar tune that you've heard a million times.
You push down the anxiety gnawing at your stomach. You shouldn't be feeling so nervous, it's just a gift. Just a present for a secret santa.
But this isn't just anyone, this is Vi. The one person who you didn't want to get. The one person who broke things off without a second thought.
Stop thinking about this. It's just one night. one stupid night, and then it will be over. You can get through this, you can handle being around Vi for one Christmas. No more thinking about her. No more wondering where you went wrong or if you could have done something to change things. Just get through the night and forget about her.
You take another deep breath, straighten up, and square your shoulders. Then, in one moment, you push open the doors to their house and walk inside.
Your eyes search the room, looking for that familiar pink hair. But you don't see her. Your shoulders relax a little. Maybe she's not here yet. That'll give you a few minutes to brace yourself. No one is around right now, probably in their rooms or preparing for the dinner.
You were so distracted by looking around that you didn't realize someone was standing right behind you until they grabbed you and spun you around. Your eyes meet their powder blue ones, and your mouth suddenly goes dry.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
“Woah, hey-” you stumble over your words.
“Don't 'woah hey' me,” she snaps, her grip tightening on your arm.
Vander's deep voice cut in before you could even speak. “You've actually came.”
You feel her look away from you, her hand finally falling from your arm. As soon as it does, you rub the skin where she grabbed you.
Vander looks between the two of you and says, “Hand me the gift, kid. I'll put it there.” He gestures towards a christmas tree where the gifts are already sitting underneath.
You quickly hold the present out for him to take.
He takes it before giving both of you another look. “Go easy with your girlfriend, eh?”
You freeze, your heart stopping as his words register. Your eyes widen as you slowly turn your head to look at Vi.
Girlfriend?
“I will.” Before you can even process what's happening, you're being pulled outside.
You yank your arm back from Vi, quickly putting some distance between the two of you. “What's your problem?”
She spins around and scoffs, looking you up and down. “I should be asking you that. What the hell are you doing here?”
“Vander invited me. He asked me to come.”
“Then you should've said no.”
“Wow? just wow.” You take a deep breath, trying to stay calm. “I know that things didn't go well between us, but you don't get to push me out of this family. They're my family too, and Vander invited me here to celebrate. I have as much right to be here as you do.”
You refuse to break eye contact with her. “You can ignore me all you want, but you don't get to decide how I'm allowed to spend my Christmas. If you want to keep acting like this, fine. Ignore me, pretend I don't exist, just like you've been doing for the past months.”
Vi lets out a laugh, rubbing a hand on her forehead. “They do not know.”
You blink at her. “What do you mean?”
She looks over at the entrance and says, “They all think we're still together.”
Your eyes widen. “What?” you almost shout. “Why the hell would they think that?”
“Because I didn't tell them,” she scoffs. “Every time I talk to them, they ask me how you are. Silco and Vander keep making comments about how we make a cute couple. They still think we're together.”
“Why the hell didn't you tell them?” you glare at her. “Were you ever going to?”
“I don't know,” she retorts, throwing her arms up. “They're all so happy about us being together.”
“That's such bullshit,” you snap at her. “That's such a crappy excuse! You should be the one to tell them we broke up.”
She looks away, planting her arm on her hips. “Don't you think I know that?” she shoots back. “It's not that simple. I can't just rip off the bandage like that.”
“Is that it? You’re scared that they'll know?”
“Don’t act like you don’t know how Silco and Vander can get.”
“I know how they get,” you snap back at her. “You’re just too much of a pussycat to face them and tell them the truth.”
Her expression hardens, and her jaw clenches. “Look who's talking. You can't even say no to a little family gathering, but here you are.”
“Don't even start. I didn't come here because I wanted to see you. I came for the family, not for you.”
“As if I wanted to see you either. The last thing I wanted was to have to deal with you all night.”
You look her right in the eye. “Fine, you know what? I'll go tell them right now that we broke up. They deserve to know.”
She grabs your wrist before you can take a step towards the door. “Wait”
You look down at her hand, then back up at her. “What?”
“Don't,” she says through gritted teeth. “Just... don't tell them yet.”
You scoff, ripping your arm away from her grip. “Why the hell not? So they can keep thinking we're still together?”
“Just don't tell them tonight. Can you just give me until after Christmas?”
“Why are you still dragging this out? What difference does it make if we wait till then or do it now?”
“Because it's fucking christmas!” she snaps before dropping her gaze. “Look, it's the holidays. I just... I don't want to ruin Christmas. They've all been looking forward to all of us celebrating together. I don't want to ruin it by spoiling the fun.”
“Wait—let me get this straight. You want to fake it this christmas? Pretend we're still a happy couple?”
She's quiet again. “Yeah,” she whispers, looking down. “Yeah, that's what I'm asking.”
“You’re unbelievable, Vi.” You take a deep breath, trying to keep yourself together. “Do you know how ridiculous that sounds? You're asking me to pretend like we're still together, to pretend that nothing has changed.”
“It's just one day,” she mumbles. “One day, that's all I'm asking for. We can tell them anytime after that, just not tonight, please.”
She even says please. Something about the way she says it makes your heart ache.
She looks desperate, like this really means something to her. Who are you kidding? Of course, this means something to her.
They're her family, they're important to her. And on Christmas, all they want is for everything to be perfect. perfect food, perfect presents, and perfect couples.
You hate the way she's looking at you with those soft, pleading eyes. She always looks at you like that when she wants something, and you always give in. She does it subconsciously, knowing how to get exactly what she wants. And damn it, it works.
“Fine,” you mutter through clenched teeth. “You've got your damned wish.”
And there it is. There's the look you've been waiting for. That look of relief that comes to her eyes.
You hate that look. You hate how your heart flutters when she looks like that. You hate it so much.
“Yeah?”
“Yes, you've got me for tonight. I'll pretend like we're still together. Happy now?”
There's a flicker of a smile on her face, something quick that's gone before you can even register. “Yeah, thank you.”
She looks away again. Silence falls between the two of you as you shift awkwardly.
This is gonna be a long night.
You let out a sigh, watching as she keeps her focus on the floor. This is so damn awkward.
And it's your own fault for agreeing to this nonsense. There's no way this night doesn't end up being a goddamn catastrophe.
You would give anything to just disappear right now.
Powder's voice snaps you out of your thoughts. Peeking her head out of the doorway, looking at the two of you. “Hey, you two. It’s cold out there, get your asses in here.”
You look at Vi, waiting for a sign of acknowledgment.
She slowly glances up, her gaze meeting yours. “Come on,” she murmurs, holding out her hand.
Taking a deep breath, you take her hand in yours.
You've held her hand so many times before—more times than you can count. Holding her hand used to be nothing, but now it feels so odd. Almost awkward.
But she doesn't seem to notice how out of place it feels. She slowly leads you towards the door, squeezing your hand as she pulls you along.
“How are my favorite love birds doing?” Mylo's voice greets you as you both enter.
He slings a casual arm over your shoulders, leaning on your shoulder to get a better look at you. “It's about time you two showed up. I thought for sure you were just gonna keep making out in a corner somewhere.”
It takes everything you have not to elbow him in the stomach. Instead, you keep a neutral expression and chuckle awkwardly, “Yeah, you know us. Can't keep our hands off of each other.”
“You two are sickeningly in love, it's really cute, actually.”
Your eye twitches, and you bite the inside of your cheek.
“Yeah, we're very in love,” Vi says, and you can tell she's trying not to roll her eyes.
Mylo claps you on the shoulder before releasing you. “Well then, I'm going to go find myself some eggnog,” he leaves towards the kitchen, whistling to himself as he goes.
You turn to look at Vi, and you almost feel a twinge of hatred towards the way she so casually holds your hand, like nothing is wrong.
“Are you okay?”
Her voice brings you back to reality, and suddenly you're all too aware of how hard you're clenching your jaw and the fact that you're basically just glowering at the floor with a storm cloud over your head.
You raise your eyes to meet with hers, and you have to force yourself to release some of the tension. “Yeah, fine,” you mutter. “just cold”
It's a lie, obviously. It's not cold at all. Vander always keeps the place nice and warm.
Not even she's dumb enough to fall for that. She glances around, clearly noticing how you're not really hiding your feelings well.
She runs her thumb over the back of your hand. It's an innocent gesture, one that you've seen dozens of times before. It's not meant to be anything special, it never was. And yet, it still makes your heart skip a beat.
You have absolutely no idea how you're going to get through this night with both your sanity and your heart still intact.
“Okay,” she finally says, “can you stop clenching your jaw so hard? you look like you're trying to grind your teeth down to the bone. I know this isn't the ideal situation, but please don't go around looking like you want to kill everyone in this room.”
Her fingers squeeze your hand, and you realize just how tightly you're holding her hand in yours. Your knuckles are white, and your fingers are probably digging into her skin.
Gritting your teeth, you loosen your grip.
“There, that's better.” She lets out a quiet breath. “Please try and just relax for a bit. This is going to be hellish already, so I at least need you to not look like you hate me every second we're in here.”
You let out a frustrated huff, looking away from her. “Please don't act like you care.”
“I'm not acting like I care,” she says, a tone just loud enough for only you to hear. “I do care, and that's the problem.”
Of course she has to say something like that right now. Of course she has to hit where it hurts the most.
Care? care about what? about you? about what she put you through, how she broke your heart?
You open your mouth, but your response dies in your throat. You have no idea how to respond to that.
A loud shout interrupts your thoughts, and you both turn around. “Oi! Time for dinner!” Powder yells from the doorway into the kitchen.
Vi mutters under her breath, “finally.”
Powder grins as she waves you both over. “Hurry up or Vander will eat everything and complain about his bad back afterwards.”
“We're coming,” Vi calls back.
The two of you head towards the kitchen. There's a long table in the middle of the room, covered in a red and green tablecloth. Everyone is already crowded around the table, taking their seats as you two enter the room. Vander is at the head of one of the tables, Silco seated beside him. Mylo and Claggor are chatting amongst themselves as Powder takes her seat beside Claggor.
Vi looks at the seating arrangement and sighs, realizing what's about to happen. She pulls you over to the table and sits down, pulling you down into the seat right next to her.
After a few moments, everyone quiets down and turns their attention to Silco.
Silco places his hands together. “It's good to see everyone together like this today. I am thankful that we are all here, safe and healthy.” He glances around the room in a quick survey, seeming to count everyone's attendance. “And what better time to be together than the holidays?”
Powder lets out a huff. “Can we just eat? I'm starving.”
Silco raises his hand for Powder to stay quiet. “Patience, Pow. First, let's do something a bit… different.”
Mylo and Claggor glance at each other in confusion. “Different?” Mylo repeats.
“Indeed,” Silco replies. “Instead of just diving into our meal, I thought it would be nice if we all took a moment to share a few words about what we are thankful for this year.”
“We're really gonna do this?”
Claggor nudges him. “Be polite, Mylo.”
“He's right, though,” Powder chimes in.
Silco raises an eyebrow at them both. “Is it really such a hassle to express gratitude at the end of the year?”
Mylo and Powder grumble something under their breaths.
Claggor is the first one to respond. “I think it's a fine idea.”
“Thank you, Claggor,” Silco replies, “I'm glad we have at least one cooperative person here.”
After a moment of silence, Vander speaks. “Alright, then I'll go first... I am grateful for my family,” he says as he looks around the room, taking in the faces before him. “I am thankful for my health, for my business, and most of all, that everyone is still here with me and safe.”
“That's so soft,” Powder mutters, but everyone ignores her.
Vander turns his head and looks directly at Silco, as if he's saying something that's meant to be for Silco's ears only, though everyone can clearly hear. “I'm also thankful for you, Sil,” he adds, the corner of his mouth twitching in a knowing smile.
You're not sure if you're the only one who noticed, but that comment definitely seemed personal and almost a little out of place.
He collects himself quickly and nods at Vander, seemingly not quite sure of what to say. “Thank you, Vander.”
Silco clears his throat and composes himself, turning his gaze to Powder. “How about you, Pow? Any words of gratitude?”
Powder groans, slouching back in her seat like a child who's been forced to eat her vegetables. “I swear, if you make me say something corny-”
Mylo leans over the table to look at her sister. “Say something nice for once, or you're not getting dessert.”
“Ugh, fine. I am thankful for…” she looks around the room. “I'm thankful everyone's here and we're all... whatever, happy and healthy or something like that,” she mumbles.
“I'll take whatever I can get,” Silco mutters before turning his attention to Claggor. “What about you, Claggor?”
Claggor seems to be taking a moment to think, like he's actually putting effort into what he will say. “I'm grateful for…” his eyes are almost unfocused as he thinks. After a moment, he glances up to look at Vander. “I'm grateful for the family I have here.”
Vander gives him a warm look in response.
Everyone's gaze turns to Mylo, expecting him to go next.
He fidgets anxiously, shifting in his seat as he glances around the room. “What am I supposed to say?...er, fine... My whole life's a mess, but...at least all you idiots are here to make my life more miserable.”
“We love you too, Mylo” Powder teases. “Real touching. I think I might cry.”
Mylo throws a glare in her direction. “Shut up.”
Silco glances at Vi, his gaze lingering as he waits for Vi to speak.
“I'm thankful for…” her voice is a bit quieter than usual, more hesitant. She glances at you before continuing. “I'm... thankful for the people I have in my life.”
Everyone's gaze settles on you next, waiting for you to say something. “Well, I... I guess I'm thankful to be able to still participate in this family gathering, even if I haven't seen everyone in a while.” You take a look at Vi before moving on. “Hopefully I can still be here and spend Christmas with all of you next year too.”
She holds your gaze for a moment, almost as if she's processing what you just said… and then, unexpectedly, a smile tugs at the corner of her lips.
It's a subtle change, barely noticeable, but you see it. and just seeing her smile, even a small one like that, has butterflies filling your stomach. It's been so long since you've seen her smile like that. A part of you misses it, a part of you yearns to see it more often.
She quickly looks away, and you notice that her cheeks have turned a light shade of pink.
“There, we all said our little cheesy bullshit,” Powder says, clearly getting impatient.
Silco turns to Powder, his expression disapproving. “Language, Pow,” he reminds.
Vander sighs. “Yes, Powder, mind your language” he adds, earning a mock-offended look from Powder.
“Like you don't swear all the time.”
“I do not swear all the time, Pow,” he protests, although you know it's a lie. Even the most proper and upstanding people swear, and Vander is definitely not that.
“Yeah, yeah, sure.”
Vander huffs but chooses not to add anything. Silco lets out a dry cough to redirect everyone's attention. “Right, now that that's over, let's go ahead and eat, shall we?” Silco says, as if the whole moment of gratitude never happened..
“Finally,” Mylo grumbles, “I was starting to wonder if you forgot about why we all gathered here.”
Silco gives him a look. “Patience is a virtue, Mylo.”
“We've all been patient for the last hour, so spare me.”
Claggor lets out a little sigh, but thankfully Mylo and Powder seem to settle into silence for the time being.
Silco nods in approval. “Then, shall we begin?”
Vander gets up from his seat, moving to go grab the food.
Powder and Mylo look at Vander expectantly, and they both look like they're about to get out of their seats. Silco gives them a warning look, silencing them before they can get a word out. “Wait until everything is ready.”
They both grumble, but they obediently sit back down. They're impatient, sure, but they at least know better than to piss off Silco.
Vander returns a moment later, setting a platter filled with food on the table. It looks delicious, and the smell is mouthwatering. Your stomach growls a little, reminding you of how hungry you are.
Powder and Mylo are practically drooling, and you honestly wouldn't be surprised if they lunged for the food the moment Silco gave the word.
Thankfully, he doesn't give them any chance. He simply says, “Please, help yourselves,” and Silco has to gesture for them to wait.
They almost get up and move to the table, and they're clearly resisting the temptation to shove each other to try and get to the food faster.
Mylo lets out a curse, and Jinx giggles in response. Vi stands up and grabs both of them, grabbing onto their shoulders and holding them back from each other.
“Enough, you two,” she scolds, “there's plenty of food for everyone. Chill out.”
They look at her with expressions that clearly are saying, 'no, we're hungry'. Powder lets out a huff, and Mylo looks like he's one more remark away from shoving her sister.
Vi's expression sharpens, her eyes boring into Mylo and Powder. “No, quit the bullshit, you can wait a few minutes, and if you two can't act like adults about it, neither of you are getting any.”
Mylo immediately shuts up at that, his expression turning slightly more guilty. Powder just looks like she's about to protest, a pout forming on her face. Vi glares at Powder to shush her as well.
“Just quit it,” she says. “You can wait, the food will taste better if you don't shove it all down your throats like dogs.”
“Fine, we'll wait,” she grumbles.
Mylo just nods with a pout, staying quiet.
Vi seems to notice their looks, and she rolls her eyes, staying put just in case. She seems wary as she watches Powder and Mylo, her eyes switching from them to the food on the table.
And sure enough, the moment Silco gestures for everyone to get their food, Powder and Mylo are gone, rushing to claim their plates.
Claggor lets out a sigh as Powder and Mylo shove each other for their own plates. No one says anything though, they're all just used to it. This is just how Powder and Mylo are, and they've come to accept it. Vi doesn't even seem as bothered as everyone else does.
Mylo seems like he's really close to just pushing Powder to the side and snatching up the slice he wants, and Powder doesn't look any better. Honestly, if Vi didn't step in, there was a chance they'd start throwing punches.
And judging from how the others' looks, especially Silco, they look like they're expecting this.
It's like this is all completely normal, they know to expect this kind of behavior when food, and more importantly, free food, is involved.
Powder and Mylo finally settle down after their little fight, and they finally begin digging into the food.
Mylo is practically shoving it into his face, eating it like he's been starved for weeks. Powder isn't any better, although at least she's not making a complete mess.
Claggor is significantly slower when it comes to eating, choosing to take his time as he slowly eats as opposed to just shoving the food into his mouth.
Vander eats at a decent pace, and he doesn't seem as starving like Mylo is.
The last one to begin eating is Silco, and surprisingly enough, there's a smile on his face. He takes one look at how Mylo and Powder are chowing down on their food, then he turns his gaze and looks at you, as if silently asking if you're going to eat.
You take the hint, and you decide to dig into your own food. The food is delicious, and you can't blame Mylo and Powder for basically trying to swallow their food whole.
Vi also begins eating now that everyone's settled down.
Vander lets out a laugh, his eyes crinkling up at the corners. “Slow down a little, you two, the food isn't going anywhere.”
Mylo and Powder both raise their heads at that, and they both look like they're considering it for a moment... but they immediately go back to shoving food down their throats.
Claggor shakes his head as he watches them eat. “You'd think they'd never seen a Christmas dinner before.”
“You know them, they would scarf down all the food in town if they could.”
Powder glances up at that, a small pout forming on her lips. “Hey, it's not our fault we're just starving.”
Mylo nods in agreement, his mouth too full to say anything.
“You both just had eaten before this,” Claggor counters.
Mylo swallows whatever food is in his mouth long enough to argue with Claggor. “And that was hours ago.”
“Yeah,” Powder agrees, “it was practically an eternity since we ate.”
“Two hours is not an eternity,” Claggor retorts.
“It might as well be,” Powder counters.
Despite the bickering and arguing the dinner feels oddly... domestic, almost.
Claggor looks like the responsible and mature oldest sibling who's done with his siblings nonsense, Vander almost acts like a tired parent, Silco acts more like a stern aunt, and Powder and Mylo act like rowdy kids who are constantly at each other's throats.
Vi sits next to you. She's making sarcastic comments with Silco, laughing at Powder’s jokes, and making small talk with Claggor. She even gives Mylo an unimpressed glare when he tries to snatch all the bread for himself.
It's almost like you're both back to normal. The way she's acting makes your heart ache. She's giving you all the attention a partner would give.
She gives you fond smiles whenever you make a comment, she casually slides an arm around your shoulders, she even scoots her chair a little closer to yours.
Her eyes are soft, her voice is soft, whenever you look at her, she looks back with this almost affectionate look.
It's so normal, that it almost takes you back to your relationship and how you two were before the breakup.
She's even doing little things, like leaning closer to you, letting a hand rest on your thigh, even discreetly grabbing your hand and intertwining your fingers with hers under the table.
You want to hold her tight and never let her go, but your brain keeps reminding you. You two aren't together anymore.
But when you look at her, when she looks at you with that look in her eyes, everything goes quiet.
Maybe it could work this time.
Maybe you two could just bury the hatchet and move on.
Maybe things could work between you two if you try it out again.
Then you remember the fights, the nights you spent on your bed, crying while Vi was out with friends. You remember how she treated you after the breakup—how she tossed you aside like discarded trash.
You try to ignore it, push it to the back of your head. But it's so hard when Vi sits next to you, close enough for you to catch the scent of her perfume. She smells like cigarettes and leather, something that's so her.
You're so focused on trying to stop yourself from touching her or even getting closer that you're almost surprised when she suddenly leans her head against your shoulder.
She doesn't say anything, just leans against you.
She's so close. She's pressed against your side, her shoulder against your shoulder, her head against yours, her hand on your thigh.
You notice her scent again, now stronger.
Her hair brushes against your neck, the way you can feel the warmth of her body, and the way her thumb draws little circles into your thigh.
She's so close, and yet you want her even closer.
You want to run your hands through her hair, you want to nuzzle your face into her shoulder, you want to feel her hands roaming your body.
You just want her.
Your thoughts are suddenly interrupted by Powder, her question pulling you out of your head. “It's been a while since we've seen you two together,” she says, her mouth still full of food.
Claggor shoots Powder a look. “Powder-”
“Shush, I'm just wondering,” she argues, shrugging casually, “has she been avoiding you?”
“No,” you say before anyone can say anything. “We just... haven't had time to schedule any dates, that's all.”
“For months? Haven't had time to schedule a single date for months?”
“Life gets busy, y’know,” you reply, trying to sound nonchalant.
Mylo scoffs at that. “You two are dating, the least you could do is at least manage one date a month.”
Claggor smacks him over the head. Mylo grumbles and rubs the back of his head, shooting his brother a glare. “What? it's true,” he mutters. “We just kind of... we all miss you.”
Vander gives Mylo a disapproving glare. “What Mylo means is, your presence has been sorely missed around here.”
“We all just... we just want you around more,” Powder puts in her two cents, speaking around a mouthful of food again.
You cast a sidelong glance at Vi. You and her are putting up a pretty good facade so far, but Mylo's question seemed to have put her on the spot a little. She catches your glance, and you give her a look that says, just play along. Vi sighs, her hand squeezing your thigh.
“Look, I-” she glances around the table, meeting everyone's eyes before sighing and putting on the most believable expression. “I know we haven't been as... present as we should have been for the past few months. Work just got really hectic.”
“That's true,” you back her up with a nod. “I had to travel away for a business trip a few weeks ago, so it's been pretty hard to find time to spend together.”
Vander, Silco, and Powder all nod in understanding. They're aware of the fact that you have a job in a big city, so it's not an unbelievable explanation.
Mylo, however, snorts and crosses his arms. “You don't have to feed us some lame excuse for not hanging out with us.”
Claggor gives Mylo another smack. “Would you shut up already?”
“Ow!” Mylo grumbles as he rubs his head again, shooting Claggor a dirty look.
Vander sighs. “Regardless, it's good to have you here for Christmas this time.”
Everyone nods and agrees. Powder grins at you, Silco shoots you a small almost-smile, and Claggor and Vander both look genuinely pleased to have you here.
All eyes then land on Mylo, and he shrugs again, mumbling, “I guess it is good to have you here.”
“See, it's a christmas miracle, Mylo isn't being a little prick for once,” Powder teases.
Mylo scowls at her. “Hey, I'm never a little prick-”
“Bullshit.”
Mylo just grumbles again, his eyes narrowing at Powder. “I just think that-”
“Nobody cares what you think,” Powder interrupts again.
That just causes Claggor, Vander, and Silco to laugh. Vi snorts next to you, squeezing your thigh.
The conversation soon changes to talking about old childhood holiday memories.
Mylo tells a story about you and him stealing Silco's secret chocolate stash when you were twelve. Silco scowls at the memory, but there's a hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth.
Powder tells a story about the time she accidentally burned the back of Vander's hair with a roman candle. Vander laughs and shakes his head at the memory.
At some point, Claggor chimes in to tell a story about a time he and Mylo accidentally broke a window during a snowball fight. Even Mylo himself laughs at that one.
There's lighthearted banter, friendly jabs, and just a lot of laughter in between. This, this is what it should have been like from the beginning. It reminds you of the way it used to be when you were all younger, but still has a different air to it. In a way, it's almost better than those old days. Everyone's grown, but there's still that same energy that always connected you all as a family... it just feels fuller.
You don't know if it's just the christmas lights playing tricks on your mind, but you swear you can almost see the faintest tearful sheen in Vander's eyes. He's almost always had a bit of parental pride and love toward all of you, but seeing you all sitting here together, happy... damn, it must bring back a lot of memories for him.
Silco even looks slightly less grumpy than usual, his mouth twisting into a barely visible smile as the rest of the table continues talking. Yeah, this is how christmas should be…
It almost makes you forget that all of this is fake, almost makes you forget why you and Vi aren't together anymore. It's almost like just for tonight, you can pretend like things are back to how they used to be.
But you know this will not last. When everything is said and done, when christmas night is over and you're all saying your goodbyes, you have no doubt in your mind that you and Vi will go your separate ways again.
You glance at her, taking in the sight of her laughing with the rest. Her eyes are bright, her smile is big, and her entire face lights up with joy.
You bite the inside of your cheek, forcing your heart to quiet.
Vi must notice you looking, because she glances over at you. She's looking at you with that look again. You recognize it so easily.
That look... that damn look she's giving you again. The look that makes your heart stutter against your ribs, the look that makes your stomach twist into knots. It's a look that almost makes you want to lean forward and kiss her.
You almost give into your urges. You almost reach out and push a stray strand of hair out of her face, you almost do something to kiss her, almost.
But you don't, you can't. That would spoil the whole 'still dating' facade, and besides.... you have boundaries.
You give her a little nod, offering a small smile, and you almost swear that you see disappointment flash across her eyes.
She looks like she wants to say something, her hand tightening over your knee again, but she seems to change her mind and just smiles back.
Maybe it's just a figment of your own imagination, you think to yourself. Maybe it was a trick of the light or something.
Claggor reaches over to grab something from the middle of the table, and Silco clears his throat. “How about you two?” he says it casually, like he's just making small talk, but there's a hint of concern in his voice. “Any... any problems between the two of you lately?”
You and Vi both sit up straighter. “Problems...?” Vi repeats.
Silco just shrugs, playing it casual. “I don't know, I'm just wondering... a lot of couples who have been together for as long as the two of you have.” He trails off, but everyone at the table knows the implications.
Mylo grumbles under his breath. “I swear, if you start talking about how high the divorce rate is—” Claggor elbows Mylo, and he shuts up.
Silco just chuckles. “Oh, I'm sure you two can last.”
Powder rolls her eyes. “These two have been together since forever. You guys were like... practically attached at the hip, from day one.”
“Yeah, we were like that, weren't we?” Vi looks back at you.
“Yeah,” you say with a casualness you don't feel. “Yeah, we were.”
Silco hums. “I remember when you two first started dating.”
“Oh, do you remember that?” Vander says, looking at Silco. “I remember the two of them coming to me the day they decided they were going to be official.”
Claggor nods. “Yeah, and they were so... so mushy. All 'you're mine' and 'we're never going to break up,” he puts on a mock high-pitched voice, imitating you and Vi
“That was the worst,” Powder groans, shoving food into her mouth.
Mylo grins and elbows Claggor. “How many times did you have to stop them from making out all over the bar again?”
“Way too many times.”
“By the way,” Mylo says. “You two aren't doing anything for new years, are you?”
You and Vi exchange glances. “..we haven't made plans yet,” you say slowly, trying to think of excuses.
“Oh, you should come join us then,” Mylo says, leaning back and stretching his arms. “All of us are getting hammered down here for new years, you two should come.”
“Yeah, it'll be fun!” Powder pipes up, eyes lighting up. “You guys will come, won't you? promise you'll come.”
You open your mouth, trying to wrack your brain for excuses, but before you can say anything-
“Of course we'll come.”
You turn to look at Vi, and she just gives you a shrug.
Mylo grins. “Good, good! That'll be fun,” he sits up and points a finger at you both. “I swear, the two of you used to be so much fun at parties, it's like you both went boring when you got older.”
“Hey, just cause we're getting old doesn't mean we suddenly became party poopers,” Vi says defensively. “We're still fun.”
Mylo cackles. “Are you now? I never see you two do anything anymore,” he leans back in his seat. “Ever since you got that fancy shmancy job, you've been too busy to have any fun.”
“We know how to have fun, we have—” you pause, trying to think of the word, “responsibilities now. responsibilities that a certain someone is too dumb to understand.”
“I understand responsibilities, but I understand the concept that if you don't get wasted while you're young, then you'll wake up at forty, old and boring,” he says, looking at Silco and Vander. “And I want to make the most out of my young and reckless years. Meanwhile, you've already turned into an old, boring fart.”
You scowl at that, but Silco interrupts before you can respond. “Don't knock on old farts just yet. Some of us are old and still know how to have fun.”
“Yeah,” Vander chimes in, nodding his head. “Just because we're old doesn't mean we don't know how to have a good time.”
Mylo rolls his eyes and waves a hand. “Yeah, yeah, you old farts can still have fun. You just don't know how to have real fun anymore.” Mylo then pouts. “I just... I miss how it used to be, you know?” he sighs, resting his chin in his hand. “Before all that adult crap, when things were easier.”
“Easier,” Powder mutters, poking at the remains of her food. “Yeah, when we were broke and always hungry, real easy.”
Mylo reaches over and flicks her arm. “Easy doesn't always mean money, you dumbass.”
Powder scowls and smacks his arm back. “Don't call me a dumbass, you dumbass.”
“Then don't be a dumbass,” Mylo snaps back, smacking her again.
Powder smacks him again, harder. “Don't you dare call me a dumbass again.”
Before they can start another childish argument, Silco's voice cuts in. “Enough you two," he says, and they immediately grumble and fall quiet.
“Honestly, I sometimes wonder how the two of you aren't still in high school,” Vander mutters under his breath.
“That's an insult to high schoolers, they're more mature than those two,” Claggor jokes, earning him a smack to the head from both Powder and Mylo.
He yells and puts his hands up in surrender, “ow ow ow, ok ok! don't hurt me!”
Jinx and Mylo laugh, while Silco shakes his head. “See what I mean? Children.”
“And they both insist they're mature enough to be out in the real world, independent and capable,” Vander says, while Silco chuckles.
“They're still just as chaotic now as they were in high school,” Silco says dryly. “Nothing has changed.”
Powder and Mylo both glare at him. “Really? like you two were that much better in high school,” she grumbles.
Silco raises an eyebrow at that. “We certainly weren't as immature as some people,” he says pointedly.
“You guys were probably just as bad as us, you just don't remember."
There's a pause, and Silco and Vander exchange glances before Silco snorts. He tries to bite back a laugh, but it comes out anyway, causing Vander to burst out laughing as well.
“I can't-” Vander wheezes between laughs. “I can't believe... you actually…”
Silco doubles over, laughing even harder. After a moment, he manages to gasp out a few words. “Oh, if you only... if you only knew…”
Powder and Mylo exchange confused glances, while Claggor tilts his head. “What? what happened? what's so funny?”
The laughter finally dies down as Silco composes himself enough to speak. “Nothing, it's nothing,” he says, waving a hand.
“All right, all right,” Vander looks around the table. “I think most of us are done eating. Who wants to help with the dishes?”
There's a collective groan from the rest of the table. No one likes doing dishes.
Powder and Mylo immediately groan out a “not it,” and Claggor follows up with “You all know I'm terrible at dishes-”
“Don't look at me either,” Silco grumbles. Vander just sighs and shakes his head.
and that just leaves you and Vi... great, just great.
You're about to argue as well, anything to get out of being stuck in the kitchen with Vi, but she beats you to it. “Yeah, we'll do it,” she says, before you can even open your mouth.
“Oh, I-” you pause for a moment. You had been fully intending to dodge the chore, but now you can't without looking like an ass and leaving her alone to do dishes.
Vi stands up and picks up the nearest stack of dirty dishes, balancing them on her arms as she turns to you. She shoots you a look, almost like she's daring you to try and weasel out of helping.
You get the hint, shaking your head a little and standing up. This is absolutely the last thing you want to do right now.
You follow her to the kitchen, grabbing a few more dishes along the way.
She holds the kitchen door open for you, and you step into the little kitchen with its small stone countertops and simple appliances. You set the dishes down on the counter near the sink, turning to find Vi already rolling up her sleeves.
She's not looking at you, but when she starts to roll up the left side of her shirt sleeve, you swear you can see her eyes dart over to you for a split second.
You pause, staring at the side of her face. You can't tell if she's... no, you must be imagining things. The light must be playing tricks.
She clears her throat, raising one eyebrow. “What, you're not gonna help?”
“No, no, I am,” you hurriedly say, turning away as you start to roll up your sleeves.
You're not going to look at her. Not at the way her forearm flexes when she reaches down to turn on the water, not at the way she bends over to grab some dish soap, and definitely not at the way her shirt tightens across her shoulders.
Yeah, you're definitely not going to look at her. Not at the way her fingers move when she soaps up the dishes, not the way her biceps flex when she bends her elbow, and especially not at the way her hair falls into her face when she scrubs at a stubborn stain.
Why is she so fit?
You look down at your own hands, watching the water and soap bubble up between your fingers. You start washing another dish, trying your absolute hardest to look anywhere except at her.
The minutes tick by in awkward silence, but eventually, your mind starts to wander. After all, washing dishes is pretty damn boring.
You glance over at her again, out of the corner of your eye, watching the way her shoulder blades shift under her shirt. The fabric of her shirt is stretched taut against her shoulders, and you wonder what she looks like under it if she still has all the same muscles....
Yeah, okay, you really have to stop staring at her.
“Can I ask you a question?”
Well, so much for not looking at her. Your head snaps up at the sound of her voice, and you force yourself to just focus on scrubbing at the glass in your hands.
“Depends what the question is,” you grumble, shifting a little.
You expect her to ask you something about your current life or something generic. What happened when you were gone, what life was like where you were?
Instead, she asks something completely left-field.
“Do you ever think about us?”
You tense up, the glass in your hands slipping a little in your grip. You were not expecting that question. Hell no, you were literally not expecting that question.
How are you supposed to answer that? yes? no? sometimes?
What was she even expecting to hear? did she want you to say yes, to say that you always thought about her, that you would've come back to her in a heartbeat if you could've? or did she just want to hear you say no, to hear that you moved on, that you had to move on because it was either that or let yourself fall apart?
‘Sometimes’ was definitely not the answer you would've given months ago.
Now, though? you would admit that sometimes, after a rough morning or a particularly lonely night, you'd let yourself think about her. You'd remember those nights you spent in her apartment, on her shitty couch, talking her ear off about everything and nothing, the nights where the two of you would sit on the couch and watch tv, her head resting on your shoulder, and you'd wonder if maybe... just maybe..
You wonder if she thinks about that kind of stuff too, if you cross her mind late at night when she's alone. You wonder if she still thinks about the nights where you would stay in bed together, talking for hours after a particularly good round, your head resting on her chest as she played with your hair, or the mornings where you'd wake up and find her making breakfast for you.
Yeah, you thought about her a lot.
But you couldn't say that to her. You can't tell her that you think about it all the time, about how sometimes you can't fall asleep because you miss the feeling of laying in bed with her, about how you always find your hands searching for her in the middle of the night. No, you absolutely cannot tell her that, no matter how badly you wanted to.
“I used to,” you say instead of letting your thoughts wander any farther. “Not anymore.”
You keep scrubbing, even after there's no longer any more dirt on the glass. Just so you have a reason not to look at her, just so you have a shield from the thoughts you know are brewing in her quiet mind.
She's quiet for a moment, and you can feel her looking at you. Looking at you, reading you, trying to figure out if you're telling the truth or not.
After a few moments, she takes a breath like she's going to speak, but then stops herself. It's something you're all too familiar with. She's overthinking something, that much is obvious. She's trying to pick her words carefully, and damn, you just wish she'd spit it out.
The silence feels like it's been going on for a year, but really, it was only around a minute. Your knuckles are turning white from how tightly you're gripping the glass you're washing, and your shoulders are beginning to ache from how tense you are.
“What about you?” you murmur. “Do you... do you think about us?” You force yourself to look over at her, and you instantly wish you hadn't.
She's not looking at you now, she's not watching you suspiciously or anything like that. No, instead she's looking down, staring at the soapy water, and avoiding eye contact with you.
She's quiet for a second, her hands pausing in their scrubbing. “Yeah,” she finally says, “I do.”
Damn it. Her answer goes straight to your gut and twists deep inside you.
You were absolutely expecting a solid “no”, hell, you were even preparing yourself for a cruel “god, no.”
Anything, anything other than “I do.”
She continues scrubbing at a plate as if she hasn't just turned your world upside down. How are you supposed to react to her answer? do you say something, do you not say something?
“Why?” the question leaves your lips before you can stop yourself.
“Why do you think so?”
You don't say anything, you just shrug your shoulders. You genuinely don't know. You'd just blurted out the question without actually knowing what you wanted the answer to be.
Her eyes linger on yours for a few seconds, and you can't quite read them. She looks like she wants to say something, she looks like she wants to reach out and hold you, and you'd bet real money that if circumstances were different, she would've done exactly that.
Instead, she just averts her gaze back to the sink and lets out a sigh. “I don't know... I just do.”
You go back to scrubbing dishes. It's obvious there are a million things that you want to say, that you need to say.
“Oh,” is all you say in response, and the word hangs in the air awkwardly.
You're both quiet for a few minutes after that. It's quiet, except for the faint music playing in the background and the sounds of dishes clinking against one another.
A few times, you catch yourself glancing over at her, trying to pick up any hint of what she could be thinking, what she might say next. But, every time, she stubbornly keeps her eyes down on the dishes she's scrubbing. It's frustrating, the way she just won't look at you, and what pisses you off most is the fact that you understand why she won't look at you.
You have a feeling that if she were to look at you, if she were to meet your eyes right now, she'd either burst into tears or shove you into a storage closet and kiss you until your lungs burned.
You don't know which one would be worse.
It's so quiet, so awkward. You're both just scrubbing and scrubbing, refusing to look at the other.
Every time she takes a breath, you look over at her, convinced she's about to speak. But, time and time again, she doesn't, and the only sound to come from her is a shaky exhale.
It's maddening.
The sound of Claggor's voice finally breaks the stifling silence, and you let out a breath you didn't know you'd been holding. He peeks his head into the kitchen, grinning widely. “Yo, you two almost done here? Powder is about to get impatient.”
You're thankful for the interruption, and judging by the look on Vi's face, so is she.
“Yeah, we're done,” Vi mutters, glancing up from the dish she's been washing for the last ten minutes.
You dry your hands off on a nearby towel, trying to look unaffected. “We're finished.”
Claggor grins again, “Thank God, Powder is about to start biting people.” He laughs, then disappears back into the main room.
“That sounds like her,” she says with a chuckle, scrubbing her hands off on a towel.
“Guest we should head out there then,” you murmur, trying to get her to actually look at you.
She hesitates for a second, still running the towel over her hands even though they're no longer wet. She looks down for a moment as if she's contemplating something, then finally lifts her head to look at you.
Her jaw is tense like she's forcing herself to stay quiet. After a few seconds, her features soften a little. “Yeah.”
You want to ask her what she's thinking, you want to ask her why. Instead, you just push the door of the kitchen open and gesture for her to go first.
—
“Now that we've had an amazing dinner, it's time for the best part of the night.”
Everyone gathers around, now sitting either on the couch or on the floor. Powder and Mylo immediately get squished together on the floor. Powder mutters under her breath, “Hey! you're shoving me!”
“Only because you're taking up too much space.”
Vander smiles from his spot on the couch. “Alright! It's time for secret santa. Everyone remembers who they drew, right?”
A group of nods and hums go around as everyone pulls out the slips of paper that have the names they drew.
Vander clasps his hands together. “Good!” he says as he looks around the room, his smile getting wider. “Who wants to go first?”
A few seconds of silence, then Powder’s hand shoots up. As always, she's the most excited one. “me!”
Vander laughs. “Well, look at that, our little girl is so eager. Okay, you can go first, Pow-Pow.”
Powder smiles and scrambles off the floor, almost tripping over herself as she pulls a present from beneath the Christmas tree. She glances down at the tag and grins.
She then scans the room with a giddy smile, then her eyes land on Silco.
She bounds over to him, practically shoving the present into his hands as she sits down on the floor next to his legs.
Silco smiles faintly as he takes the present. “Alright, let's see what you got me, hm?” He's quiet as he carefully unwraps the present, and Powder watches him who barely contains her excitement.
After a moment, the wrapping paper is set aside, and the present is now fully unwrapped. It's just a little box, though Silco is curious as to what's inside.
He glances at Powder as he takes the lid off the box, looking a little wary. Powder just grins at him. “Go on, open it,” she encourages.
He looks back at the box and, with a little nod, reaches in and pulls out the item inside. He holds it in his hands and looks at it curiously, then looks at Powdr with a raised eyebrow.
She's still grinning, and she looks extremely pleased with herself. Mylo glances over to look and snorts out a laugh. “Would you look at that?”
Silco looks at the item in his hands, then looks at Powder again. “You got me…” he begins, trying to sound unimpressed. “...a little shark plushie?”
Powder nods, her grin getting wider, still very pleased with herself. “Yep!” she exclaims, “I got you a little shark plushie. You like it, right?”
Silco glances at the plushie and then at her again, looking vaguely fond. He carefully sets it down on his lap, then smiles a little.
“I adore it.”
Her grin somehow widens even more. She's clearly happy with herself. Silco chuckles a little under his breath, then looks around. “Who's next?”
Claggor shrugs, raising a hand. “I'll go,” he offers, to which Vander nods.
“Go ahead, Claggs,” he says approvingly.
Claggor gets to his feet from his spot on the floor, then moves to the tree. He crouches down and rummages around, looking for the present with the correct name tag.
A minute passes as a few minutes go by. He eventually stands back up, a small present in his hands. He looks around the room, then his eyes land on Mylo, who's now lying down on the floor and looking very bored.
Claggor moves over to him, tossing the present into his lap. Mylo looks up and catches the present, shooting him a glare. “You couldn't have done that a little nicer?” he complains while sitting up.
Claggor just shrugs and gives him a flat look. “Suck it up,” he tells him bluntly before sitting back down.
Mylo scoffs and begins to unwrap the present, ripping the wrapping paper off carelessly. He tosses the wrapping paper away, then looks down at the present as he tears the box open. He's quiet for a moment, looking at the contents...
..and then he groans, covering his face.
“Oh, come the hell on,” he grumbles, though he sounds more whiny than anything else. He glances up from his hands to give Claggor a withering look.
“Dude, seriously?”
“What?”
Mylo just sighs, shooting the toy in the box with a dismayed look. “Really? a stress ball?”
Claggor shrugs. “I thought it was a good idea,” he says, clearly not bothered by Mylo's unimpressed tone. “And you seem to be lacking a bit in the stress management department.”
“Well, excuse me for being a bit stressed when you're being a dick.”
“See, you need the stress ball. You proved my point right there.”
Mylo just groans and throws his head back. He picks up the stress ball and squeezes it hard. “I hate you.”
Claggor merely grins. “I love you too.”
Mylo mutters something under his breath, too quiet for anyone to hear, then looks up as he addresses the group. “So, who's up next? I'm sure there's some poor sap itching to go.”
Silco raises a hand. “I'll go next,” he offers.
Everyone glances at him, then nods and gestures for him to go. He gets up off the couch and saunters to the tree. He scans the presents beneath it, moving a few aside to find the one he was looking for.
He finally finds it and smirks to himself, grabbing the present and standing up. His eyes sweep over the group, taking in everyone's expressions. He then turns and walks over to Vander, holding the present out to him.
Vander glances at the present, then at Silco, taking the present and curiously giving it a little shake. “What is it?” he asks curiously.
Silco just grins in a vaguely irritating way and sits back down. “Just open it,” he replies, his voice dripping with innocence.
Vander raises an eyebrow but begins to unwrap the present meticulously, occasionally shooting Silco a glance, as if expecting something. He peels away the wrapping paper to reveal a small box, then looks at Silco, his eyes questioning.
Silco simply shrugs and gestures for him to go on. Vander quirks another eyebrow up but opens the box anyway, now a little intrigued.
Then a snort finally escapes him. He's now fighting to hold back laughter.
Mylo sits up suddenly, looking at Vander, then at Silco, curiosity in his eyes. “What? What is it?” he asks eagerly.
Vander doesn't answer for a moment. He's still staring into the box, looking like he can't believe what he's seeing.
He then looks up at Silco. “Please tell me you're joking,” he implores.
Silco's smile widens even more. “I couldn't be more serious,” he replies.
Vander lets out a long, suffering sigh, then digs through the tissue paper and pulls something out of the box.
It's a pair of comically large underwear, one that could practically fit an entire person inside of it.
Vander groans, holding the underwear up and staring at them with slight disgust.
Mylo and Powder both start laughing once they register what the present is. Powder laughs so hard she nearly falls over, clutching her stomach as she howls with laughter.
Vi's eyes widen at the sight of the underwear, her mouth dropping open a little in surprise. As much as it pains her to admit it... she just knows the jokes that Silco is going to start making any minute now.
…and she's right.
“You see, I thought it was a necessary gift.”
“Necessary?” Vander repeats, still holding the underwear up in disbelief.
Silco just nods. “Of course. you're getting old, and as you get older... accidents happen.”
“I'm not that old,” Vander grumbles, though he knows it's probably not the best argument.
Silco smirks, raising a hand and waving it dismissively. “Oh, you know what I mean. Things begin to... fail as you age. I simply wanted to make sure you had a spare pair.”
Mylo is now practically rolling on the floor, clutching his sides. “Oh, my god, I can't breathe—this is—this is gold,” he wheezes. Powder is laughing so hard she's choking, practically coughing her lungs up.
Vander sighs again, looking down at the underwear in his hands. He looks like he wants to throw it into the fire and destroy it right there.
He glances up at Silco, giving him a look that clearly says, 'I will get you back for this'.
Silco leans back against the couch and crosses an ankle over his knee, looking all too pleased with himself. “What? You don't like them? I personally thought they were a good choice.”
Vander opens his mouth to reply, but Powder interrupts him.
“Oh, god,” Powder chokes out, “you should try them on. They'd look perfect on you.”
Vander shoots Powder a glare to kill. “No way in hell,” he mutters firmly, folding his arms and sitting back.
But Powder’s not done. “Come on, just try them on,” she wheezes. “It really would be a look for you.”
Vander turns his glare to Powder, his expression clearly saying, 'I will murder you if you keep talking.'
“No,” he replies through gritted teeth.
Even Silco is starting to look amused.
“Just for a second,” she teases, “come on, just long enough for us to see. We won't even say anything.”
Vander lets out another long, suffering sigh.
He shoots a sneering look at both Silco and Powder. Eventually he lets out an exasperated grumble and stands up, mumbling something under his breath as he heads into the bathroom with the underwear.
Mylo falls back onto the floor, clutching his stomach.
Silco is laughing too, watching as Vander heads to the bathroom to change.
Mylo is dying of laughter, gasping for air in between wheezes. “Holy shit,” he chokes out. “He's really doing it.”
It takes a few minutes, but eventually the bathroom door swings open and Vander exits, looking like he regrets every decision he's made that led him to this.
His face is as red as a tomato as he stomps back over to them in the gigantic underwear.
Mylo and Powder are losing it again, falling over and rolling on the floor with laughter.
Silco is smiling, trying to stifle a laugh. “Oh my,” he says, barely containing his amusement. “They look even better than I imagined,” he comments.
Vander can hardly look anyone in the eye, still red with embarrassment. “I hate you. I hate you all.”
Claggor looks at Silco and Powder, clearly trying not to laugh. “You guys are terrible,” he says, a trace of a smile on his face.
Vi can't hold back her laughter anymore, she's grinning from ear to ear. “You look... perfect,” she comments through a strangled chuckle.
Vander turns his glare on her, still red with embarrassment. “I hate you all,” he repeats, shaking his head.
Powder is still giggling from the floor. “I want pictures,” she wheezes, holding up her phone.
Vander looks like he wants to smack her head off. “Absolutely not. I forbid it,” he snaps, sounding as serious as someone wearing comically large underwear can.
Powder just pouts, lowering her phone. “Oh, come on,” she says with a whine, looking up at Vander with puppy-dog eyes. “Just a few.”
“No, I'm not having pictures of me in these... embarrassing things circulating the internet.”
“The internet? Who said anything about the internet?” she replies, a smirk on her face. “I just meant... a few for my own personal, um, research.”
He opens his mouth to say something, but Silco chimes in first. “Oh, come on. Humor her. It's the season of giving.”
Vander turns his glare to Silco, his expression almost murderous. “There's no way in hell—”
“Pleeeease?” Powder interrupts, holding out her phone again.
Vander looks like he's about to argue, but Powder is already giving him those damn puppy-dog eyes that he struggles to resist.
He hesitates, then, with a grumble, he sighs. “Fine, one picture.”
Powder looks like a kid on Christmas. The instant the word 'picture' leaves Vander's mouth, she leaps to her feet and lifts up her phone.
“Stand up straighter.”
Vander obeys, reluctantly straightening up.
“Say cheese,” she grins.
Vander grumbles under his breath, but he cooperates. “Cheese,” he mutters, putting on a strained smile.
Powder snaps the picture, then lowers her phone and looks at it with a satisfied smile. “Oh yeah, you're getting on the naughty list for this one,” she grins, wiggling the phone a little.
Once the picture-taking is over and Vander changes his clothes back, Silco motions for Powder to settle down.
“Alright, settle down. It's time to continue with the secret Santa,” Silco says, looking at the others.
They all nod in agreement, still snickering but mostly focusing on the present exchange.
“Who wants to go next?” Silco asks, looking around the group.
Mylo looks around, then grins. “My turn.”
Powder rolls her eyes, knowing that look on his face all too well. “Here we go,” she mutters under her breath, preparing herself for whatever nonsense Mylo is about to come up with.
Mylo smirks, holding up his present. “Well, I drew someone's name... and it was a pretty easy choice.” He then looks around the group with mock innocence. “Oh, where's my victim?”
Claggor lets out a defeated sigh. “Who exactly is the unlucky person this year?”
“There's only one person who I could have possibly chosen…”
“Would you just spit it out before the suspense kills me?” Powder snaps, impatient.
Mylo huffs. “Jeez, have some patience,” he grumbles. “Anyway, my secret santa is…”
Vander sighs, looking like he's already regretting this. Claggor puts his head in his hands, bracing himself.
“My secret santa is, drumroll please…” they reluctantly drum their hands against any surface near them. “My very special secret Santa is…”
Claggor covers his face with his hands, looking like he's praying.
Mylo grins, looking from face to face, savoring the moment before he does the big reveal.
“My secret Santa... is Powder!”
“Fuck!” she groans, burying her head in her hands.
“Aww, what's the matter, Pow?” Mylo grins, holding up the wrapped present.
Powder lets out another groan, glaring up at him. “You're the worst,” she mutters, looking like she's praying to any god out there to just put her out of her misery already.
Mylo grins, clearly getting a kick out of her misfortune. “Come on, don't be like that. It could be worse, I could have gotten you a box of spiders,” Mylo teases, shaking the present in her direction.
Powder looks like she's seriously considering that as a better option. “You know what? Give me the spiders. Spiders would be better than whatever it is you got me.”
“Nice try. You're not getting out of it that easily,” he says, holding the present just out of her reach. “You have to open it, come on.”
Powder grumbles in protest, then reluctantly reaches out for the present. She snatches it out of his hands, shooting him a glare. “If I die from this, I'm going to haunt you for the rest of your life,” she mutters, slowly tearing the wrapping paper.
Then, Powder tears back the last piece of wrapping paper, revealing a plain black box. “What the hell is this?” she mutters, looking like she's already fed up with whatever shenanigans Mylo has come up with.
“You're going to have to open it and see for yourself.”
Powder grumbles, giving Mylo a glare that could freeze hell over. She slowly opens the black box, not sure what to expect.
“Please tell me this is not what I think it is,” she mutters, looking like she's two seconds away from throwing the entire box at Mylo's head.
The others lean in closer, curiosity getting the better of them.
“You did not get me what I think you got me.”
“Oh, you're going to have to be more specific than that,” he replies, trying to hide his smirk.
Powder glares at him, her jaw clenching. “You know what I'm talking about,” she snaps, looking like she's contemplating dumping the contents of the box over his head.
Mylo just shrugs, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “I honestly have no idea what you're talking about.”
Vander just rubs his face with one hand, knowing that this situation is about to spiral out of control.
“You're telling me,” Powder hisses through clenched teeth, “that you didn't get me exactly what I think you got me?”
“Like I said, you'll have to be a bit more specific,” he responds, looking entirely too smug for his own good.
Powder looks like she's about to explode. “Mylo, I swear to-”
Claggor cuts her off, knowing that she's about to blow her top. “Calm down, Powder,” he says, placing a hand on her shoulder.
“I'll calm down when the box goes straight over his head.”
“Why so angry? I thought you'd be excited.”
“I can't wait to make you eat that box,” she mutters, her hands clenching into fists.
“Oh, I'm so scared.”
Vander interjects, trying to diffuse the tension. “That's enough. No need to start throwing things around.”
“I was just having fun.”
“Yeah, have fun with a black eye.”
“Enough,” Silco says, giving both Powder and Mylo stern looks.
Both Mylo and Powder grumble, reluctantly backing down a bit.
“Can we all just get back to opening presents, please?” Vander asks, sounding exasperated.
The others nod in agreement, though Powder still looks like she's not done with Mylo yet. She glares at him one last time before reluctantly returning to her seat.
Mylo just grins, clearly enjoying having gotten the last word in. He takes his own seat next to Claggor, looking very pleased with himself.
The others exchange glances, silently agreeing to not let Powder and Mylo be too close to each other for the rest of the evening.
Silco clears his throat, getting everyone's attention. “Now, who's next?” he asks, looking around the room.
Vander nods, leaning back in his seat. “I'm up next, I guess,” he mutters. He rummages at the gifts under the Christmas tree. After a few moments of searching, Vander finally finds the present he was looking for. He picks it up, holding it in his lap.
“This one's for you,” he says, handing the present to Claggor.
Claggor takes the present, looking curious. He glances down at it, then looks up at Vander with a soft smile. “Thanks,” he says, starting to unwrap it.
Once the wrapping paper is off, Claggor is holding a box of assorted tools. They range from pliers to wrenches to screwdrivers.
“Just like you requested,” Vander says, watching as Claggor starts inspecting the tools.
“Wow, these are great. Thanks, dad,” he replies, running a hand over the tools in the box.
Vander smiles, clearly pleased to see that Claggor likes his present. “I thought you'd like them. I saw them at the pawnshop the other day and figured you could use them.”
“I definitely will. These are a huge upgrade compared to what I have now.”
Vander reaches over and pats Claggor on the shoulder. “You deserve it. You've been working your ass off lately.”
Vander looks around the room, looking for the next person to take their turn. “Alright, who's up next?” he asks, eyeing everyone lazily.
Mylo's head suddenly snaps up, a smirk on his face. “Oh goodie, it's Vi's turn.”
“Come on, Vi, your turn,” Silco says, looking a little amused.
“Yeah, yeah. Hold your horses,” she mumbles, getting to her feet and making her way over to the christmas tree.
Vi crouches down, rummaging through the presents. After a few moments, she finally finds the present. She grabs it, standing back up. She looks over at you, looking a little bit like she's been caught doing something she's not supposed to do.
She makes her way over to where you're sitting, holding out the present. “Here, this one's for you,” she mutters, looking a little tense.
You take the present from her, looking down at it. It's heavy in your hands, the wrapping paper slightly crinkled from how hard she was holding it. “Thanks, Vi,” you say, looking up at her.
“Don't mention it, babe,” she mutters, her voice sounding a bit strained.
Powder and Mylo both let out a chorus of ‘aww’ when they heard her use the nickname.
“Shut up, you two,” she says, glaring at them both.
You start unwrapping the present, tearing off the festive wrapping paper to reveal what's inside.
Once the wrapping paper is off, you're holding a small box. It's plain, made of brown cardboard, and doesn't look like much. But as you look back up at Vi, you can see a hint of nervousness on her face.
She's watching you intently, her expression almost anxious. It's a look you don't often see on her face, and it's a little startling.
Still curious, you glance back down at the box in your hands. You lift off the lid, opening it slowly.
There, nestled in a bed of tissue paper, is a necklace. It's a silver chain with a small silver heart pendant. It looks delicate and beautiful, and judging by the look on Vi's face, she spent a lot of time picking it out.
You slowly reach into the box, lifting the necklace out of the tissue paper. You hold it up, letting the chain dangle from your fingers. It glints in the light, the pendants catching the glow from the Christmas tree lights.
Vi is still watching you intently, her eyes fixed on the necklace. She shifts a little on her feet, looking like she's holding her breath.
“Do you like it?”
You look up from the necklace, meeting her gaze. “Yeah, I do,” you respond, your voice just a little bit shaky. “It's beautiful.”
You hold the necklace in your hand, running your thumb over the pendant. Without even thinking, you reach up and clasp the necklace around your neck.
It fits snugly against your skin, the pendant resting on your collarbone.
You look up, catching Vi watching you as you adjust the necklace. “Looks good on you,” she says, her voice lower than usual.
“Thanks,” you reply, still running your thumb over the pendant.
Mylo and Powder both let out another chorus of ‘aww’ clearly touched by the sight.
Vi shoots them another glare, her eyes narrowing. “Would you two shut up, for Christ's sake?”
“Oh, come on, sis. It's cute” Powder teases.
“Ah, young love,” Silco says.
Vander chuckles, nodding his head. “I remember my younger days.”
“Don't you mean your younger hookups?” Silco shoots back.
Vander grins, holding his hands up. “Guilty as charged.”
Silco laughs, shaking his head. “Some things never change.” Then, he glances around the room, looking for who's turn it is next. “Lasty, who's next?” he asks, looking at everyone present.
You look around, seeing that almost everyone has given out their gift. It's obvious that your turn is next. “I'm up next.”
You get to your feet, making your way over to where the presents are. then you hold the present in your hands, not looking up quite yet. You can feel Vi's eyes on you.
This is it. You take a deep breath and look up, meeting her gaze.
You walk over to her, your heart beating a little faster. You feel a little bit nervous, but you try to push it down.
You stop in front of her, holding out the present. “Here you go, babe.”
Vi's expression softens a bit, her eyes darting down to the gift in your hands. She reaches out and grabs it, looking slightly puzzled.
You watch silently as she unwraps the gift.
Vi looks at it, her eyebrows raised. “Is this... a sweater?” she asks, a little bewildered. It's clearly hand-knit, with uneven stitching and a clashing color scheme.
“I made it myself,”
“You made it?” she asks. “Like, with your own two hands?”
“Obviously..”
“I mean... it's…” she starts, her voice trailing off as she tries to find the right words.
“It's hideous?” you suggest.
She winces a little, looking like she can't deny it. “Yeah, kinda…” she mutters.
“Hey,” you say, mock-indignant. “I spent a lot of time making that, you know.”
“I can tell.”
“Then, try it on.”
Vi hesitates for a moment, looking at you a little warily. “Seriously?”
“Seriously,” you nudge her. “Just try it on, for me.”
She sighs, clearly realizing there's no way out of this. “Fine.”
She pulls it over her head, struggling a bit to get her arms through the sleeves. The fit is a little awkward, and the sweater seems a little too small. But somehow, it kind of makes her look... cute?
She tugs at the sleeves, looking down at herself. “How do I look?”
You pretend to look her over, like you're seriously considering the question. “I dunno,” you reply. “it's... something.”
“Be serious. I look like an idiot, don't I?”
“Don't be like that” you tease, reaching out to straighten the collar of the sweater. “It's not that bad.”
“Not ‘that bad?’” she repeats. “Are you kidding? I look like a walking christmas tree,” she groans, tugging at the sleeves yet again.
“I think you look…. fine”
“That's the best you've got? 'fine?'”
“What do you want me to say?”
“I don't know,” she mutters, sounding slightly petulant. “Something more than just 'fine’”
“Okay, okay,” you say, holding up your hands. “Let me rephrase that, you look…” you pause, scratching your chin “...very christmas-y”
“You really know how to boost a girl's ego.”
“I didn't realize you needed your ego stroked.”
“I don't,” she protests, a little flustered. “I'm just saying, a little bit more enthusiasm would be appreciated.”
Silco clears his throat, drawing everyone's attention. “Ahem, now that the present giving is concluded…” he glances around at the crowd.
Silence falls over the room as everyone waits for Silco to speak. The tick-tock of the grandfather clock is the only sound that can be heard.
Silco glances at the clock, a smile on his face. “It appears to be midnight,” he says, pausing for emphasis. “Which means…”
A chorus of “Merry Christmas!” rises up from the group, everyone sounding festive and cheerful.
You look back to Vi, who is still fiddling with the sweater. “Merry Christmas,” you whisper, not wanting the others to hear.
She glances at you, a small smile touching her lips. “Merry Christmas to you too,” she replies, her voice just as quiet as yours.
Awkwardly you glance down at the carpet, unsure of what to say next.
“Hey,” she says suddenly, her voice drawing your attention. “Can I talk to you for a second…? In private?”
“Sure,” you agree, following her as she leads you away from the group.
She leads you into a small back room, closing the door behind her. The room is dimly lit, with only a few bare light bulbs lining the walls. Aside from a few boxes and some old crates, the room is empty.
She turns to face you, leaning against the wall. She's quiet for a moment, her gaze averted to the floor. you can tell she's trying to find the right words, fiddling with the hem of the sweater again.
“Listen,” she begins, finally meeting your eyes. “I know this is weird, and I know things are... difficult right now. But…” she pauses, letting out a short sigh. “I just want to say one thing…”
“Go on,” you encourage.
“I…” she starts, then falters. Her tongue darts out to wet her lips, nervousness flitting across her features. Her gaze drops to the floor.
“Well, I just…” her fingers fumble at the edge of her sweater. “I just... I miss you.”
Your heart skips a beat as she finally says the words out loud.
You've been wanting her to say that for weeks, months even. After everything that's happened between the two of you, you desperately wanted to hear those very words fall from her lips. But now that she's saying it...
What the hell do you say to that?
You're speechless, stunned into silence by her honesty. You open your mouth, intending to say something, anything. but words seem completely lost to you at this point. You just stand there, staring at her, dumbfounded.
“Say something,” she finally says, her voice tense. “Say anything. You're just staring at me like an idiot.”
“I don't know what to say.” Because, you really don't know what to say. You have so much you want to say, but somehow the words get stuck in your throat.
“Say you hate me. Say you never want to get back together. Just... say something.”
She's waiting. Waiting for something, anything. An opinion, a response. something, anything from you. But what can you say? Do you tell her the truth—that you've missed her so much you can't even sleep at night? that the last month has felt like a living hell, having no contact with her?
You want to tell her that you hate her for throwing you away just to come back around wanting something from you again, but your tongue feels like cotton.
“Say something… yell at me, curse me out, anything!”
But her tone gets under your skin, and suddenly you feel the anger start to build inside of you.
Who does she think she is, demanding a response from you? she's the one who tossed you aside without a second thought. You're sick of this. You've done everything for her, given her everything she wanted, and here she is, pushing you for more.
It is too much—all too much. Without a word, you turn from her, heading toward the door. You can't do this anymore.
You hear her call out your name as you shove open the door, but you don't stop. You make your way back, stopping at Vander's side.
“Vander, I'm going to head out.”
Vander nods, giving you a knowing look. He can tell something's going on, but he's wise enough not to press the issue.
“Alright, kid,” he says gruffly. “Get some rest, yeah?”
You nod your head, forcing a smile onto your face. “Yeah, I'll try,” you mutter, giving him a wave before starting towards the exit.
When you pass by Silco, he gives you a curious look. You catch his gaze and give him a small nod.
Finally, you make your way out the front door. The cold night air hits your face, making you shiver. You take a deep breath, preparing yourself for the walk home.
But then you hear the door swing open behind you, her footsteps hurry after you.
“Wait!” her voice calls out. “Wait, stop!”
You keep walking, your steps quick. You're trying to get as far away from her as possible to outrun all of the feelings that came rushing back to you—
“Let me walk you home.”
Her words cut through your thoughts, sharp and unexpected. You falter, your steps slowing down.
You stop walking, turning around to face her. “What?”
She's standing there, looking like a kicked puppy. Her shoulders are slumped, her expression sheepish. She can tell you're not happy she's followed you out here, but she looks like she doesn't care.
She lets out a huff, her breath coming out in a white cloud in the cold air. “I just... look, whatever happened in there, whatever happened between us... just let me look out for you. Just let me walk you home. I.. I have to know you're safe.”
“I don't need a babysitter,” you practically growl, your irritation obvious. “I can handle myself.”
Vi flinches at your words, but she doesn't back down. If anything, she squares her shoulders and lifts her chin. “I know you can,” she snaps. “I'm not offering to babysit you. I'm just... I'm just asking to walk you home.”
You glance back at the entrance of their house, the warm lights and sounds spilling out into the cold night air.
You turn back to look at her, your voice softer this time. “You don't have to walk me home. We don't have to keep up the act anymore, I'm going home and... you've got better things to do than worry about me.”
“Screw the act,” she mutters. “I'm walking you home. It's not up for debate.”
You stare at her, baffled by her insistence. “Seriously? What's the point, Vi? We're not together anymore. Why bother?”
Her jaw clenches, her shoulders tensing. You know she hates this. She hates hearing you say it. Her heart is on her sleeve, and you're tearing pieces out of it, right in front of her.
“Because I care!” she snaps. “Maybe it's hard for you to believe, but I still care about you.”
You shake your head, scoffing at her words. “No, no, no, you don't get to act like you care now. You're the one who broke up with me. You're the one who walked away and left me.”
“I made a mistake,okay? I was a damn idiot, and I screwed up.”
“A mistake?” you echo, scoffing again. “You ended everything, and now you want to walk me home? What, you think that makes up for everything? You think it’s that easy? You threw away everything we had like it meant nothing, like all those months we spent together meant nothing.”
Your voice is trembling with anger as you continue. “And then what did you do? You went around, throwing yourself at anyone that gave you a second glance, like I never meant anything to you. Yeah, I know all about that. So don't try to act like you actually care when you clearly didn't give two shits.”
She looks away, her jaw clenching. “I was trying to get over you. I was trying to push you out of my head and it hurts like hell. Every night, every morning, it was like there was a hole inside of me, and no matter how hard I tried to fill it, no matter how many times I went out, how many times I tried to forget you, nothing worked. You were stuck in my head, and I hated it.”
She takes a step closer to you. “I know it sounds stupid. I know it doesn't make any sense. I just... I needed something to distract me, something to keep me from thinking about you. Because it hurt too damn much to think about how much I messed things up.”
“Yeah, congrats. You did a damn good job at distracting yourself, huh? It sure as hell didn't take you very long to get over me.”
She winces again, the guilt written all over her face. “You have no idea how many times I wanted to reach out to you. How many times I thought about coming back to you and begging you to take me back.”
“But you didn't,” you say. “You didn't reach out to me, you didn't try to fix things. So why should I believe you now? Why should I believe that you're sincere when you didn't care enough to fight for us before?”
She looks down, unable to meet your gaze. “What was I supposed to do?” she whispers. “I messed up. I messed things up and I don't know how to fix it. I don’t know how to take back what I did, how to make things like they were before I messed up. All I know is that I miss you. I miss you so damn much, and I’d do anything to have you back.”
You swallow hard, your throat suddenly dry. Everything she's saying, it's everything you've wanted to hear for months. It feels like a dream.
But you can’t let yourself fall back into this. Not when you’ve worked so hard to move on. Not when you’ve spent so many nights crying into your pillow, reminding yourself that she didn’t care enough to fix things, to fight for you.
“Why now—Why do you want me back now, after all this time? Why didn’t you want me back when it mattered, when I needed you?”
She looks up at you, desperation in her eyes. “Because I was an idiot! Because I was stupid, and scared, and I thought walking away would make it easier, but it just made it worse. Because I spent every damn night regretting that I let you go and wishing that I could take it all back. I'm sorry. I'm so damn sorry for what I put you through.”
“Sorry doesn't fix things,” you say, your voice shaking. “Sorry doesn't take away the pain, sorry doesn't undo what you did.”
She nods, a tear slipping down her cheek. “I know saying sorry won't magically fix things, but I am sorry. I'm sorry for hurting you, I'm sorry for walking away, I'm sorry for everything I did wrong. Just... just give me a chance. Give me a chance to make things right.”
She takes another step forward, her eyes pleading. “Give me a chance. Let me prove to you that I love you and that I want to make things right. If I screw up again, you can toss me to the curb and never speak to me again. But please, just give me one more chance.”
“I don't know,” you murmur. “I just... I don't know.”
“I'll do anything. I'll get on my knees every day if I have to. I'll beg on my hands and knees. I'll crawl on my hands and knees. I'll grovel on the ground. Just... please, just give me one chance.”
“I'll think about it. Just...just give me some time to think things over.”
“Okay, okay. I'll give you time or whatever you need. Just please don’t shut me out completely.”
Without hesitation, she envelops you in a tight hug. Her arms wrap around your waist, her face burying into your neck. Her body clings to you, every part of her desperate and needy. “I miss you so much,” she mumbles.
You stand awkwardly, unsure of what to do. But then, your body betrays you, your arms slowly wrapping around her.
For the first time in a long while, you're holding her again. Her warmth, her scent, her touch—it’s all so familiar, so painfully familiar. So damn familiar that it hurts.
“I hate you.”
“I don't blame you,” she pulls back a little, her hands coming up to cup your face.
She lifts her hand, brushing a lock of hair away from your face. “I hate you so much,” you repeat, a tear falling down your cheek.
“I deserve that,” she says, her thumbs gently wiping away your tear.
“Damn right you do.”
You have no idea what to do or what to feel. Everything is a mess, and you're drowning in it.
For now, all you could do was hold her tight and bury your face in her shoulder.
You hated how good she felt against you and how right it felt to be held by her. You hated the way your heart skipped a beat whenever she whispered in your ear.
Damn her for making things so confusing, for making you feel so damn much.
You felt her hand rubbing your back, her fingers tracing circles over your skin. It was a soothing gesture, a silent apology for all the pain she had caused. It only made things worse, making your heart ache even more.
If only things had been different. If only she had been more communicative. If only she had been more sensitive to your feelings. If only she had been there for you when you needed her.
If only she hadn’t walked away and left you broken. If only she hadn’t hurt you the way she had.
And most of all, if only you had been strong enough to push her away and protect yourself from this mess.
But here you are, standing in the middle of a street wrapped in her arms. You felt like a fool, like a damn idiot, for still wanting her after everything.
You wanted to hate her, you wanted to make her suffer the way you had suffered.
But how could you hate her when she was looking at you like that? how could you hate her when she was holding you like this?
It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that she still had this kind of effect on you.
Her eyes met yours, and you saw everything you had missed, everything you had longed for. and you knew, right then, that you were in damn trouble.
—
In the window, Vander and Silco watched you and Vi from afar, the soft glow of the christmas lights casting shadows over their faces.
Silco takes a drag of his cigarette, the smoke curling around him as he exhales. “Your little plan worked quite well,” he says, looking at Vander with a sly smile.
Vander just shrugs, sipping his drink. “I don’t know what you are talking about,” he replies, keeping his expression neutral.
“You're not fooling anyone.”
Vander hums, taking another sip of his drink. “I don't know what you mean,” he says again, keeping his gaze locked on you and Vi.
Silco let out a puff of smoke, a smirk playing on his lips. “Don't play coy, Vander. You knew damn well what you were doing when you rigged that secret santa.”
“I may have had a little influence,” he admits.
“A little influence? oh, don't downplay it. You wanted them back together, and you knew exactly how to make it happen.”
“I have had a hunch that they still cared about each other,” he says, his voice casual. “And plus, I don't want to see Vi moping around for the past months.”
“And we couldn't have that, could we? seeing her moping around like a lovestruck puppy.”
Vander nods. “She was really terrible at hiding it,” he says. “always pacing around, always looking like she lost a puppy.”
Silco takes another drag of his cigarette, blowing rings into the air. “It was painful to watch,” he says, shaking his head.
“It was like watching a kid trying to hide a secret… I just hope they figure things out.”
“I agree,” Silco says, his eyes flickering over to you and Vi. “Hopefully they can work things out.”
Vander hums in agreement. “Only time will tell.”
They watch in silence for a moment, seeing how you and Vi are still holding each other.
“I still wouldn't forgive you for that damn underwear you got me.”
“That was the funniest thing you could have received.”
Vander grumbles, narrowing his eyes at Silco. “I do not find it funny to receive underwear as a gift.”
notes: idk what is happening
More Posts from Writtenbyhollywood and Others
THIS IS SO GOOD
I’ll be watching you — Lee Byung-hun
Description: Over the years your fans has slowly watched you and Lee Byung-Hun fall in love. They finally get to see you guys working on a project together for the first time since G.I. JOE. What even better? The promotion for the Netflix hit Squid Games.
Parings: Lee Byung-Hun x Actor F!Reader
Warnings: Some use of Y/N.
2013 G.I. JOE Retaliation Promotion.
The bright lights of the cameras shined on you and your co-star, while the interviewer asked you basic questions.
“So how did the two of you feel with this new casting. Mr Lee who had already played in the original G.I. Joe movie and you who has just now made her debut.”
You look to Byung-hun silently pleading for him to take on the question first. Luckily one look your way and he knew your silent question. Something you had found yourself grateful for.
“The entire cast is full of amazing actors, who are so caring and gentle.” Slowly you felt your nails picking at your cuticles as you thought of your answer. “I had a lot of fun working with these guys — and everyone on the crew makes it so fun.”
You didn’t noticed at first, and honestly neither did the interviewer. He was so slick with the way he slid his hand into yours, stopping your bad habit. Giving your hand a gentle squeeze before you answering as encouragement.
Your voice didn’t waver as you let the warmth of his hand bring you back to earth.
“Working on a project this big, with these actors who I truly admire is something I’m so excited about. This my ‘debut’ and it’s crazy to me that this is all really real.”
Before the interviewer could ask his next question Byung-hun didn’t think before keeping your conversation going. Helping your nerves.
“Going Hollywood is definitely something that is nerve wracking. I remember how crazy the whole thing was for me.”
Your little smile at him made the fans go crazy when the video came out. The hand holding, and little gentle reassurances he would do throughout the entire thing was something fans couldn’t get enough of as they would re-watch it over and over.
—
Photos flashed everywhere, blinding you as you stepped onto the movie premiere. Your dress was gorgeous, just like you. Your hair and makeup styled perfectly, you had honestly felt like a princess.
And in true prince fashion, Byung-hun stepped in when he saw you picking as your nails again.
Smiling at the photographers, he grabbed your hand. Leaning down to whisper in your ear; “your hands are too pretty to mess up. Squeeze mine instead.”
When he straightened his posture, and smiled once again for the cameras, as if nothing happened, you couldn’t help but think maybe that’s when you first felt it.
Devotion, wrapped in admiration.
He had helped you so much with your anxiety, some would say it was inevitable to favor him. “Thank you.” All he did was simply squeeze your hand back.
The blinding lights going crazy over the hand holding. Surely it would cause rumors, but for once you didn’t let it get to your head. Simply holding his hand instead.
—
For Lee Byung-hun, he had only thought of you as a co-worker. While your admiration for the man was so obvious, he couldn’t help but thing it was a silly crush you had because he helped you in tough situations.
He kept it professional, denying at friend invites you sent him, or any drink you’d offer him. Though he changed perspectives after watching you most recent single interview.
“Many of your fans are interested with your relationship with your co-star Lee Byung-hun. Can you elaborate on it?”
Truth was you felt nervous at this question, you didn’t know the right way to answer. Though you knew you wanted to be honest and not let the rumors continue, even if it may disappoint some.
“Ah, well truth be told there is no relationship I can really explain. This movie is the first time I’ve had such a big role.
While filming, it’s true I had quite a few scenes with Storm Shadow, more often than not. While filming those scenes I’d watch the way Lee Byung-hun embodied his character.
It was something I was truly impressed about, and so since our characters were so intwined with each other — we were paired for most promotional videos.”
You took a deep breath before continuing, grateful that the interviewer didn’t interrupt.
“During our first promo video, I was extremely nervous. This is such a big film and I was so in my head — seeing this my co-working held my hand to help with my anxiety.
People who support me loved it. Was all for it, but all it was, was him helping a co-worker out. The same thing happened at the movie premiere.
While on that carpet my heart was pounding and he was there to offer support. That’s all, the rest is rumors. I simple just admire him and someone to learn from.”
You felt a little shaky but ultimately felt better after clearing air. In your eyes Mr Lee Byung-Hun was uncomfortable about the rumors. That’s why he wouldn’t ever socialize much with you, so you had felt proud of yourself for putting an end to it.
On the other hand, him hearing you say you only admire him from a person to learn from had hit him hard. A person he knew actually looked up to him. It was an honor, one he had became proud of.
So when he saw you next, he didn’t beat around the bush.
“I’m a person you admire?” You didn’t have a crush on him like he originally thought, and that’s the moment he wanted you be your friend.
That’s the moment he had devotion towards you. Devotion wrapped in friendship.
—
Your final cast interview. It was a long experience, but an unforgettable one. This whole movie had became something you truly loved, cast included.
“Each of you will read out a card, and say the answer within ten seconds. If you get it, you’ll gain points. Whoever has most wins.”
A simple game to finish it off. Easy peasy.
To the right of you, Dwayne went first. “In ten words, explain the film.” He read off before hurrying to put ten words out.
“Cobra.” One finger up. “Escapes.” Another. “While. Joes. That. Are. Left. Fight. Back.” One last word, but just before he could think of it — getting stuck the timer went off.
The whole crew laughed at his disappointment, and then next was your turn.
“I’m nervous.” You gave one deep breath before reading out your card. “Why should you watch the new movie.”
One. Two. “Have you seen this cast?” Five. Six. “Just look at Dwayne’s muscles.” Everyone laughed.
Dwayne got a little red, causing a little teasing. It was a good moment, a happy moment. So why was Byung-hun laughing?
In fact as it was a viral clip, not you teasing Dwayne, no it was Lee Byung-hun reaction that was viral.
“Have you seen this cast?” Byung-hun kept his entire focus on you, not even looking away once when you spoke. In fact throught most of the interview, he barely paid anyone else much attention. “Just look at Dwayne’s muscles.”
A bitter feeling bubbler under his skin, as he felt his blood hot. His jaw visibly clenched, as he glared at the man in question. Before looking you up as down, his fist the next to clench. Not a single laugh leaving his lips let alone a smile.
It went very viral, and Lee Byung-hun didn’t even try to deny what they were saying. Jealousy, yes. Though it wasn’t because he was romantically interested. He just felt a sense of belonging over you. Not in a toxic way, or at least not in his eyes.
Truth be told you only mentioned to him simply because you didn’t want him to be mad at you.
“What that video going around about?” A simple question. He was in your living room, laying down on your lap, eyes closed while you mindlessly scrolled through instagram.
Instantly he knew what you were talking about and once again he didn’t defend himself.
“I didn’t like how you mentioned him.”
“His muscles.”
A scoff slipped past his lips, “I have those too, you know?” He sat up, and didn’t hesitate to lift his shirt up to show you. His abs briefly capturing your full attention.
“Yea but there’s already enough rumors about us.” That was true, and he knew that but he just didn’t care.
“Let them talk.” He brushed a hair out your face, “we’re friends, and friends go over co-workers.”
Friends, neither of you doubted the word. But we’re friends so devoted to one another? So admirable to the other? So protective? Yet the word was never doubted.
—
Over the years
Over the years, neither of you worked on a project again. That didn’t matter, your friendship was still so ever strong.
Often at each other’s house, getting food, attending events. All your fans had was an occasional post about the other.
Once you posted putting a pretty pink bow in his hair, his face was in complete annoyance.
“Byung-hun. Look at me!” He knew you had your phone recording and he debated on weather or not to snatch before looking at you. Ultimately he settled for a glare.
“My pretty princess.” Oh he just might kill you. His head tilted as suddenly you felt a little hotter as he look up at you. Like he was going to devour you alive. “Princess? I’m the one that pampers you—“ before he could continue the video went black.
It was a fond memory of your and you had posted it. As expected whenever a post involving the other popped up it blew up.
Though his comment made even more chaos. As he so much loves to do. No joke, before he made the comment he laid on your bedroom floor breaking silence as he watched the video.
“How can I make this more chaotic.” You couldn’t help but sigh at him.
I dream so often of shutting your mouth. Any ideas?
It went crazy. Then again you’ve done that before, comment a wild thing on his post.
For instance, he posted a picture of himself sweating. Chain dangling (one you got him) and a devilish smile.
Have my kids, I’ll never talk back.
Yea?
You had purposely also sent him a private audio message, cat calling him.
The uproar your fans had, oh well let’s just say many articles broke out.
It was honestly fun, watching your fans want something so bad and just dangle it. Made the two of you feel euphoric on the power.
Yet that wasn’t the only thing you two had found euphoric.
Eventually at one point the two of decided to drink and drink. None of you think before you both crossed a line that was already so faded.
You kissed, and then kissed. Until you ending up the next morning both naked in bed.
The two of you decided for the best that none of it ever happen again, but even though you didn’t — it doesn’t mean you two forgot. In fact neither of you can look at wine the same.
Though, y’all’s restraint fell apart eventually as the two of you kept ending up in each other’s bed.
Most people wouldn’t be shocked if they knew, but oh the two of you were dumbfounded on why you guys could resist each other.
So began your friends with benefits era. A classic.
As that era ended, you both realized you had wanted more, so eventually causal dating was the next step for the two of you. In private of course.
—
Promotion of squid games
You and Byung-Hun both sat in front of cameras. Each looking at fan made videos. It was nice to see such creativity, or that what you thought going into this.
As the first video played, with weird dancing and animation, you couldn’t understand how Byung-Hun could keep a straight face.
“That was for sure… interesting.” The side eye you gave him, and then the camera was definitely clipped.
“I feel wrong.” Is all you had simply said. Which was true. “Definitely love the work put into this, and I think it’s cool how people made this. Just… not my cup of tea.”
A few more weird videos broke out, and some nice one with people singing the theme song, and etc.
The next fan video was an edit of the two of you. Simply just watching each other as the lyrics in the video played. Romantics clearly intended.
It didn’t surprise the two of you. Byung-hun turned his head to you, laughing a little.
“You know, a lot of our fans watched this show for us being in a film together. Yet our characters actually despise the other.” Your smile felt contagious to him as you laughed back.
“Are we the problem?”
The man simply nodded his head back before the two of you watched the next video.
—
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—
Lie detector interview.
“We are going to give you a set of questions, please answer yes or no.”
Nerves picked at your skin as your watch Byung-hun opposite from you.
They would start with true or false trivia, before going into more detail questions. He gave you a reassuring smile before reading out the first words.
“Is your name really Y/N?” Easy. “Yes.” The detector person gave a thumbs up and he went onto the next question.
“Is it true that you play in squid games season 2?” Another easy one. “Yes.” One more true or false. “Is it true you are very nervous?” The look you gave him was the most ‘duh’ bratty attitude ever.
“Yes.”
“Okay, now onto the actual questions.” He looked down at his card, almost laughing before reading it out to you.
“Have you ever injured yourself on the set of squid games?” You knew exactly what he was thinking about, and it took you a moment not to laugh as well.
“During one of my earlier scenes, I was drinking wine, that I thought was grape juice.” Byung-hun placed a card over his growing smile as you continued. “Well no one actually thought I was drinking actual wine. Nor did I. So I ended up getting a little flushed and tripped off my chair spraining my ankle.”
Amusement wouldn’t even began the joy your co-star had as he remembered the day he carried you back to your trailer.
“Did you have to learn Korean for this film.”
You tilted your head as you thought about it. “I didn’t learn it for this film, but I had learned it a while ago to surprise you because I felt bad you had to translate your thoughts before saying them.”
Lee Byung-hun remembers the first time you spoke to him in Korean. In fact he thinks that was the moment he fell in love with you.
You two had become the definition of she fell first but he fell harder.
You use to mess up so much, and he always loved it. Now you’re pretty fluent but he loves the moments where you ask him for help.
“Tell me more about your character.”
“I play a foreign player, that is intended to remind Gi-Hun about Ali. When I get into the games lots of drama, funny and stressful things begins to happen. I don’t wanna spoil it.”
“Well you passed!” As your began to unhook yourself from the machine, “not a single lie.”
“Not like I could.” You would rather be seen as the honest person you were anyways.
You had asked your co star similar questions but one was a heavily asked fan question.
“What’s your relationship with Co-Star Y/N L/N.” Even you began to feel nervous. Dating. You two were dating and had went a very long time keeping your confirmed relationship private.
But, as you both looked at each other you both knew there wasn’t a point in keeping things a secret.
“Dating.”
Let’s just say the PR for squid game was better than gold.
A/N: I have so many WIP, but no motivation to finish them 😭. So this is my very half attempt to get out of this writing slump! Otherwise I might go insane.
bookworm
-> rafe x bookworm!reader
The bell above the bookstore door jingled sharply, and you looked up just in time to see a tall, very damp stranger step inside, shaking the rain from his jacket.
He looked out of place: broad-shouldered and golden-haired, like he belonged on a yacht instead of standing in the doorway of your tiny shop, dripping onto the hardwood floor.
You arched a brow. “You’re getting water on my first editions.”
The guy, Rafe Cameron, you recognized now, glanced down at the puddle forming around his expensive-looking sneakers. “Shit—uh, my bad.” He took a dramatic step to the side, as if that somehow fixed it, then ran a hand through his rain-soaked hair. “I, uh, wasn’t planning on coming in. Just—y’know. Rain.”
You resisted the urge to smile. “Yes, I do know rain.”
Rafe exhaled, half-laughing, like he wasn’t used to people talking to him like this. He glanced around, taking in the towering bookshelves, the warm glow of the reading lamps. “So… what kinda place is this? Coffee shop? Library?”
“Bookstore.”
“Right. That’s what I meant.”
You leaned your elbows on the counter, tilting your head. “Not much of a reader, are you?”
“Uh—” He looked vaguely offended. “I mean, I’ve read, like… some books.”
“Name one.”
His jaw tightened. “Do magazines count?”
You laughed and Rafe looked half annoyed, half intrigued. “Not unless they have plotlines and character development.”
He hesitated, shifting his weight like he was debating whether to leave or stay. Then, as if making a split-second decision, he cleared his throat. “Alright. Sell me a book, then.”
Your eyes widened slightly. “What, right now?”
“Yeah.” He crossed his arms. “Something I’d like.”
You eyed him, taking in the expensive watch, the cocky smirk he was trying to suppress, the slight impatience in the way he tapped his fingers against his bicep. Then, without a word, you turned, plucked a book from the shelf, and set it down in front of him.
Rafe squinted at the cover. The Great Gatsby.
He snorted. “You picked this ‘cause I’m rich, didn’t you?”
You just smiled, chin propped in your palm. “I picked it because it’s about a man who has everything… except the one thing he really wants.”
That shut him up.
For the first time since he walked in, Rafe didn’t have a witty retort. Instead, he just looked at you like he wasn’t sure what to make of you. Then, after a moment, he picked up the book, flipping it over in his hands.
“Alright,” he said, voice softer than before. “Guess I’ll give it a shot.”
And just like that, a golden-haired, rain-drenched Kook walked into your quiet little world, and, much to your surprise, didn’t seem in any hurry to leave.
...
The next time Rafe Cameron strolled into your bookstore, the weather was perfectly dry. No convenient rainstorm forcing him inside. Which meant he was here on purpose.
You glanced up from your desk, hiding a smile as he beelined straight for the shelves, hands in his pockets, exuding casual confidence... except for the way his eyes flicked toward you every few seconds, like he was making sure you noticed him.
He stopped in front of the classics section, squinting at the titles, then, rather dramatically, pulled out the thickest book he could find.
“War and Peace,” you read off the spine, eyebrows raising.
Rafe nodded, flipping it open like he knew exactly what he was doing. “Yep. I’m thinking… light weekend read.”
You leaned on the counter, amusement bubbling in your chest. “You do know that book is, like, twelve hundred pages, right?”
Rafe smirked. “Yeah. I like a challenge.”
You folded your arms. “Do you even know what it’s about?”
He hesitated for just a second, just long enough for you to tell he absolutely did not, before shrugging. “War. And… peace.”
You bit back a laugh. “Brilliant deduction, Tolstoy.”
He made a face. “Okay, whatever, maybe I just like big books. What, I’m supposed to pick some tiny little paperback?”
“Size isn’t everything, Rafe.”
His bit back a grin like he was fighting off some very Rafe-like response to that statement. Instead, he cleared his throat and flipped to a random page. “I’ll prove it,” he declared. “I’ll read the whole thing.”
You tilted your head, amused. “All of War and Peace?”
“All of War and Peace.” He looked very proud of himself, like he’d just announced he was climbing Mount Everest. “And then I’ll come back and tell you all about it.”
You rested your chin in your palm, eyes twinkling. “I’m holding you to that.”
“Good.” Rafe closed the book with a satisfying thud and tucked it under his arm like a trophy. He turned to leave but then, almost as an afterthought, glanced back at you, smirking.
“Bet you’ll be impressed when I finish.”
You grinned, shaking your head. “I’ll be shocked if you finish.”
Rafe just gave you a wink, pushing out the door, head held high like he’d just won something.
You bit your lip, watching him go.
Oh, this was going to be fun.
...
“You have a predilection for making a mess,” you mused, watching as Rafe leaned back in his chair at the counter, arms crossed, an empty coffee cup in front of him: his third of the morning.
Rafe blinked. “A what?”
“A predilection.”
He squinted at you. “Is that, like… a disease?”
You pressed your lips together, trying not to laugh. “No, it means you have a habit of doing something. A preference.”
“Oh.” Rafe nodded, like he totally got it. He absolutely did not get it.
Moments like these happened all the time. You’d say something, something perfectly normal, in your opinion, and he’d look at you like you were speaking ancient Latin.
Last week, you told him his posture was lackadaisical, and he spent the next three hours trying to pronounce it. Yesterday, you mentioned that his tendency to linger in your store was beguiling, and he just stared at you for a solid five seconds before muttering, “Yeah, well, you’re beguiling too.”
But today? Today was different. Today, Rafe had come prepared.
“I actually knew that,” he lied, shifting in his seat. “I, uh… I absconded that word earlier.”
You blinked. “You what?”
“Absconded,” he repeated, looking oddly proud of himself.
You bit your lip, trying so, so hard not to laugh. “Do you mean absorbed?”
Rafe’s smirk faltered. “…Yeah, that one.”
You let out a giggle, and Rafe groaned, rubbing a hand down his face. “I knew I was gonna mess that up.”
“No, no,” you teased, leaning forward on your elbows. “Please, continue. What else have you absconded (definition: leave hurriedly and secretly, typically to avoid detection of or arrest for an unlawful action such as theft) lately?”
He shot you a look, then, without missing a beat, grabbed his empty coffee cup and stood. “I’m absconding out of here.”
You let out a full laugh, and he grinned as he turned toward the door.
Before he left, though, he paused, glancing back at you with that cocky, boyish smirk.
“By the way, I predilect you.”
You shook your head, utterly endeared. “That’s not... never mind.”
Rafe just winked. “Knew it.”
A/N: mindless self indulgence
about me!
abby. 8teen. she/her. latina/québécoise. media student.
NAVIGATION: masterlist ⋆ wattpad
BACKUP BLOG: @hollywoodmaneaters
requests!
i am always open for requests but just know that I have a tight school schedule. therefore, I might not always answer them fast enough. you can request whoever you like!!
I usually write reader as a female but you can always request for reader to be male or nonbinary!
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Her soldier - part 1/2
Ben (Soldier boy) x Y/N F/Reader
Summary: 1940s setting, Teenage Ben is head over heels with the 5 year older Y/N. His dad didn't like women like Y/N hard working without a ring on her finger and a free spirit. In his free time he starts helping her out, but will she keep seeing him as a cute kid or will time bring other feelings in the mix?
Warnings: 18+ MDNI!, Slowburn, Implied Spice, talk of virginity, Losing virginity, age gab, Violence, Smoking, ...
Sorry wanted to cover as much backstory as possible in one part.
---
**Philadelphia**
It was always busiest near the Navy Yard.
Men came and went in uniforms—sailors on leave, officers grabbing drinks before catching trains south. Most of the bars on Broad Street didn’t ask questions, especially about age. That made The Red Lily a popular stop.
Low lights, too much smoke, the bitter tang of whiskey in the air. And behind the bar: Y/N.
Women didn’t work in joints like this. Not unless they had no choice. Or no shame. Or both.
That’s what people whispered anyway. Ben had heard it all, usually from his father’s friends. "That woman’s no better than a streetwalker," they said. "Tight clothes and cheap smiles. She’s not the kind of woman a good man settles down with."
But all men where drawn to the place of secret pleasure.
Ben didn’t see what they saw. To him, she was electric. She was the light that shine bright in the darkness.
She had a mouth like a sailor, arms stronger than half the men she served, and eyes that saw right through your soul. And when she laughed—really laughed—it sounded like she hadn’t in a long time.
He was sixteen when he first met her.
She’d been dragging two crates of beer from the alley behind the bar, cursing under her breath. The sleeves of her blouse were rolled up, hair pinned back messily, a streak of something dark across her cheek.
Ben was walking by, books under his arm, headed nowhere in particular. Specially not after he was kicked out of school... again.
“You need a hand?” he asked, already stepping forward.
She looked him over—tall for sixteen, a little too lean, sunburn on his neck. Too young to be of any real use. But there was something in his face. Eager. Kind.
“You any good at lifting?”
“I’m not bad,” he said, grinning.
That was how it started.
A Week Later
She handed him a few dollars. He blinked at it, confused. “What’s this for?”
“For helping me this week.” she said. “You’re here every day now, might as well make it official.”
“I—I didn’t do it for money,” Ben said, flustered, holding the bill like it might bite. Y/N shrugged, lighting a cigarette. “Doesn’t matter. You earned it. Get yourself somethin’ that ain’t war rations.”
He started taking the money. Slowly. Learned what a dollar could do. How to fold it right. How to save it. He swept floors, stacked crates, and kept his eyes on her even when he tried not to.
She called him “kid” until one late night, the bar nearly empty, just the sound of a jazz record crackling softly. “You ever think about leaving Philly?” she asked, elbow on the bar, a glass of something brown in her hand.
Ben swallowed, nodding. “I wanna join the Army.” Her brows lifted. “You?”
He straightened. “Yeah. But my dad won’t sign off. Says it’s for ‘real men,’ not dreamers. But I’ll be seventeen soon. And once I’m eighteen…”
He drifted off, unsure if he’d said too much. Y/N watched him for a long beat. Her lips twitched. “Well,” she said, lifting her glass toward him, “cheers to that, Soldier.”
He felt his face go hot. He grinned.
**Philadelphia, Winter, one year later.**
Ben would be eighteen in a few days.
Y/N didn’t forget—she never forgot. For months, she kept teasing him with smirks. "So, when you gonna trade the mop for a rifle, Soldier?" He’d always grin, scratch the back of his neck, and say, "Soon." But “soon” kept stretching further.
The truth was: he hadn’t signed up, not yet.
Not because he was scared. Not of boot camp, not of war, not even of his father’s scorn. He was scared of leaving her.
Y/N wasn’t some helpless damsel—God no. She’d survived more than most men ever would. But that didn’t mean she should have to fight alone.
Not after what that bastard did.
Tommy
Her last boyfriend—a mechanic with calloused hands and a temper that smelled like bourbon—hadn’t taken the breakup well. Ben was glad she dumped him after he had hit her one to many times.
After that he showed up more than once, shouting from the sidewalk, calling her names loud enough the whole damn block could hear. She never flinched, never let her hands shake.
But Ben saw the way she kept looking over her shoulder.
And that was enough to stay.
---
The bar was almost empty. Wind howled outside like a living thing, rattling the glass, echoing in the alleyways. Ben was mopping the back of the floor while Y/N cleaned behind the bar, both of them moving in comfortable silence.
She looked up suddenly. “So,” she said, casual, like it didn’t matter, “what are you planning to do with all that cash you’ve been hoarding? If you don't mind asking.”
Ben paused, wringing the mop. “Dunno,” he muttered. “Maybe something special.” She tilted her head, lips quirking. “Special, huh? That a code word for whiskey or a visit to the women a few blocks away?”
His ears turned red. “No,” he said quickly. “Not like that. I'd rather find myself a nice lady and wait for to settle than pay for it. ”
She chuckled, didn’t press. She knew when to pull and when to leave the line slack.
Ben went back to mopping, heartbeat still loud in his ears. He wasn’t gonna say it. Not yet. Not that every dollar he’d stashed away was meant for a future where she might see him as something more than the boy who swept her floors.
Then the crash came—shattering, violent.
The front window exploded inwards in a hail of glass and brick. Y/N flinched, dropping a bottle that shattered beside her feet.
Ben didn’t hesitate. He was out the door like a shot, glass crunching under his boots. He caught a glimpse of taillights turning the corner—too fast, too familiar.
The same damn car. Her ex. Ben stood in the street, fists clenched, chest heaving, the cold biting through his shirt. He didn’t chase it. Not tonight. But next time?
Next time he’d be ready.
When he walked back inside, Y/N was sweeping up the glass like it was nothing, but her jaw and her hands were bleeding. The glass must have hit her.
He took the broom from her without asking. They didn’t say a word for a while. He’d given up war for her. Because she was his battle. And he had no intention of losing.
The brick was gone. The glass swept. But the silence lingered, heavy and strange.
Y/N sat on the edge of the bar, knees together, one palm upturned in her lap. A thin trail of blood curved across her skin, glass having left its mark.
Ben kneeled in front of her with the first aid tin cracked open beside him. The alcohol stung, but his hands—those were gentle. Ridiculously so. He worked with care, eyes narrowed in focus like she was made of something rare.
“You’re good at this,” she whispered. He looked up, a smudge of blood on his knuckle. “Huh?”
She gave a soft, wry smile. “Tender. I wonder if you learned that from a pretty little girl?” His gaze didn’t flinch. “My mom," he said softly, he never spoke of her.
"Besides, you know, I only have eyes for you.” The room shifted.
She blinked, her smile faltering just slightly. Something tightened behind her ribs. There was a line—bold and simple—and it was not a line she wanted to cross.
Y/N waited for the punchline, the cheeky follow-up, the it was just a joke explanation. But he just looked at her. Looked at her like she was holy. Ben leaned in a little, eyes flicking from hers to her mouth.
She pulled back. The movement was small, barely a breath’s worth of space, but enough.
“I—I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “I don’t… feel that way.”
Ben’s brow furrowed, confusion painting itself across his face. “What about everything between us? All the flirting… teasing?” She shook her head softly. “You mean the jokes? The laughter?”
He didn’t answer.
“That’s friendship, Benjamin.”
He flinched at the name. The one no one called him anymore. The one that made him sixteen again, not almost eighteen. Not a man.
“You don’t mean that.”
“I do,” she said, gently but firmly.
“I’m not a kid anymore.”
“No, you’re not. But Ben,” she sighed, “I do like you. I care about you. Just not like that.” His throat hurt, like he was swallowing glass.
“I’ll treat you better than any of them,” he whispered.
“I know,” she said, reaching out to touch his hand, warm and firm. “That's not it. ” He stared at her hand on his. Then slowly stood up, the air colder now between them.
The wound on her palm was forgotten.
Ben stood there, unmoving. He looked at her like he was trying to memorize every line of her face, like if he just understood her expression, maybe the ache in his chest would make sense.
She only now noticed how tall he’d gotten in the last two years. He wasn’t that lanky boy with too-big hands and sleeves rolled up to the elbows anymore. His shoulders had settled broad and strong, the kind that filled a doorway. His voice had dropped a register—warm, firm, sure.
But the look in his eyes tonight was something else entirely.
He licked his lips like the words were too dry to say. “Is it because…” he paused, eyes falling to the floor, “because I have no… experience?”
Her brows drew in, caught off guard.
“I mean—” he rushed to explain, “I know most guys my age… they’ve had girls. In their beds. At parties. I just…” He shrugged, suddenly bashful. “I figured I’d wait. For the one that mattered.”
There it was. That truth, naked and soft in the middle of his chest. Y/N’s breath caught. She stood quickly, stepping toward him, eyes wide.
“No,” she said, almost pleading. “No, that’s not it. That’s not why, Ben. That has nothing to do with it.”
He looked at her, half-hopeful, half-lost.
“I think it’s… it’s cute, that you’re waiting for the one.”
He flinched. “Cute,” he echoed, quietly. A word that stung worse than it should have. "So I'm more like your kid brother?"
“Oh, Ben,” she sighed. “Don’t—don’t take it that way.”
“How else should I take it?” His voice cracked just a little. “You think it’s sweet, adorable. But you’ll never see me like them. Like the men who leave you bruised, and hurt. You rather have you face beaten up and cheated on than date a guy a few years younger?”
“That’s not fair—”
“I’d never hurt you.”
“I know,” she said. “I know you wouldn’t. But who said I won't hurt you?”
The silence wrapped around them. He didn’t look angry, not really. Just… wounded. Like something sacred had cracked in his chest and he didn’t quite know how to hold the pieces.
“I care about you,” she said, quieter now. “God, Ben, I care about you so much. But you’re still figuring out who you are.”
“I already know who I am,” he said. “I’m yours.”
Her breath hitched. But she couldn’t say what she wanted to. Not now. Not when the right words didn’t exist.
She just stepped back. "Ben, I'm not the girl for you." She let him go.
---
Two Weeks Later
Y/N hadn’t seen him.
Not for thirteen days. Not since the night he’d left without looking back, heartbreak stitched across his broadening shoulders.
And then, on the fourteenth morning, there he was—just like always.
No fanfare. No words.
Just Ben, sleeves rolled, arms straining as he carried two heavy crates through the back door like he’d never left. She blinked from behind the bar, setting down her coffee. “You’re alive.”
He didn’t answer. Didn’t even glance her way. Just walked past and set the crates down where they belonged. Her smile faltered.
Something had changed. And it was her fault.
---
She didn’t get a chance to ask. Not then. Because an hour later, he walked in.
Tommy.
The guy who’d thrown a brick, bruised her arms, and spat at her name in the street. His swagger oozed entitlement, like nothing had happened, like he belonged.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he said, loud enough for Ben to hear. And then, without warning, he grabbed her by the waist and kissed her.
Y/N froze. Not responding. Not resisting. Just… enduring.
Ben was across the room, stacking a barrel near the back. He turned slowly, jaw clenched, eyes dark. Tommy caught it.
“Oh, it’s the boy again,” he sneered. “Still sniffing around like a mutt.”
Ben didn’t respond. Just went back to what he was doing. Focused. Calm. If Y/N wanted him rather than him he would behave, for her.
But the guy wasn’t having it. He strode over and shoved Ben forward, hard, slamming him chest-first against the barrel.
“Don’t ignore me, punk.” Y/N moved to help—fast—but she didn’t need to.
Ben whipped around, jaw tight, eyes burning, and drove his fist into the man’s face. A clean, sharp punch—one he’d clearly been holding back for months.
The man staggered and crashed into a table, toppling it sideways. Chairs scattered. Blood bloomed from his nose. He groaned, standing up, teeth bared. “You little shit—”
He lunged. But before he could lay a finger, Y/N stepped between them.
“Don’t!”
She wasn’t shouting. But her voice cut like a blade. “I’m done. You hear me? Get out of my bar. Out of my life.” He stared at her, stunned. “You’re choosing him? A goddamn kid?”
“Better than a coward who only feels strong when he's hurting someone smaller.”
“You crazy bitch,” he snapped, wiping his nose. “You’d rather play house with a teenager? Fine. You’re nothing but a slut. A child abuser.”
Ben moved again, fury in his stride—but Y/N grabbed his arm. Her head shaking no. She turned back to Tommy. “If you ever come near me again, I swear on every name I’ve ever loved—I will call the cops.”
He hesitated. Then spat on the floor and stormed out, slamming the door behind him hard enough to rattle the windows.
Silence returned, thick and humming.
Y/N stood there, breathing heavy. Still between Ben and the door. Then slowly, her shoulders sank.
Ben stepped forward. “You okay?” She nodded, not looking at him. But her hands were trembling. Her eyes finally lifted to his, her hand moving over his cheek.
"Thank you.... soldier."
**Philadelphia, Spring that same year**
They’d fallen into their old rhythm again—like nothing had ever broken between them.
Ben came in early, lifted the heavy stock, cleaned without asking. She poured his coffee just how he liked it, always before the bar opened, always before the real world could intrude.
They didn’t talk about that night anymore. The one with the fight and the shouting and her standing between him and the kind of man she swore she was done with. But things were different after that. Not in big ways—just in the quiet ones.
He watched her more protectively. She touched his arm a little longer when saying thank you. Neither of them said what it meant.
---
One morning, Ben lingered by the register longer than usual. She was cleaning glasses, humming low, when he finally spoke.
“Hey, uh…” He cleared his throat. “You think I could maybe… get a raise?”
She paused, one brow lifted. “A raise?”
He scratched the back of his neck. “My dad said I should at least be making double. Said I’m being used.”
It was a lie. A clumsy one. His father barely spoke to him anymore. Y/N frowned, glass halfway polished. “Ben… I can’t pay that. I barely make enough to cover my own rent.”
He winced. “Right. I shouldn’t’ve—” She stepped around the bar quickly, grabbing his arm. “Hey. I didn’t say no.”
He blinked.
“I said I can’t pay that much. But I can give you something. A little more. Whatever I’ve got to spare.” He looked down at her hand on his arm. Then at her eyes—soft, tired, but still kind.
“Thanks,” he said, giving a half smile. “That’s… that’s really kind of you.”
But guilt still hung on his shoulders.
After a beat, he added quietly, “Maybe I could find a second job. You know. For evenings, after I'm done here here. I just… I don’t wanna be a burden.”
Her face changed. “You’re not a burden, Ben. I just make enough for myself and I do appreciate your help but... ” He looked at her, and for a second, the air between them felt like that night again. Unspoken things. Uncrossed lines. "I get it."
“I just o do my part,” he said. “I know,” she replied. “You always had my back.”
And then she did something she hadn’t done in a long time. She reached up, and brushed a lock of hair from his forehead. A touch too tender to be casual.
He didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. But neither of them said a word.
---
**Philadelphia, Summer **
Ben had picked up a second job two weeks after asking for the raise. It paid good money, enough for him to save. But more than that, the work gave him something else—distance. Time to think. Time to breathe.
The place was just a few blocks down. A brothel hidden behind a red-painted door, dressed up like a jazz club to fool the right eyes. It wasn’t glamorous. It wasn’t safe. But it paid in cash and didn’t ask questions.
He worked the door mostly. Kept drunks out, broke up fights before they started. He didn’t look like the kind of boy you’d mess with anymore, and people listened.
And then there was Minny.
She was Y/N’s age. Maybe a little older. Red lipstick, lazy laugh, cigarette always dangling between her fingers. Minny was smart. Sharp-eyed. She liked to come outside for a smoke and talk to him, especially when the night was quiet.
“You’re sweet,” she’d tell him. “Too sweet for this place.”
He trusted her. Maybe because she never looked at him like he was a kid.
One night, he told her everything.
About the bar. About Y/N. About how she called him her soldier, About her troubled love life and how his dad saw her as cheap. About how it hurt when she didn’t look at him the way he looked at her.
Minny smiled around her cigarette.
“Let me guess,” she said. “She likes her men rough. Loud. With hands like vices.”
He blinked.
“She likes experienced men,” Minny said. “Women like that, like us..." Ben frowned but she just continued. "we don’t admit it, but we don’t want to teach. We want to be taken.”
Ben swallowed. His cheeks red.
"Would you like to learn?” Her lips curved. Slow. Knowing. “I could teach you,” she said. “Nice and slow.”
His mouth went dry. “What’s… what’s the price?”
She grinned wide, all teeth and mischief. “Oh, honey. For you? First lesson’s free.”
---
Weeks later
Y/N wasn’t looking for him.
She was just walking home after closing. Same route as always passed the red door. The sky a navy bruise above her, streets slick from earlier rain. She tugged her coat tighter around her ribs, cutting down the side street for once. Tired. Bone-deep.
That’s when she saw him.
Ben.
Tall, lean, head down as he followed a woman out of a building. Y/N slowed. Watched the red door swing shut behind them.
Her stomach twisted. That building. The girl had red lips, long legs, her hand brushing Ben’s chest like she’d done it before.
Y/N stood frozen. The ache in her chest blooming sharp, fast, ugly.And just like that, it made sense. Why he needed the money.
Why he stopped coming around as much. Why his eyes had started looking elsewhere. She turned before the tears could sting.
And for the first time since that boy walked into her bar with eager hands and dreams of becoming a soldier—she felt ... jealous.
---
The next morning, Ben came in quiet.
Tired. Under-eyed. His shirt rumpled, knuckles slightly bruised from God knows what. Y/N didn’t flinch. Didn’t let the strange tightness in her chest change the tone of her voice.
“Morning, soldier,” she said like always, handing him his usual coffee.
He smiled—faint, grateful—and sipped like it was the only warm thing in his life. She asked him, casually, “How’s the new job going?”
“Good,” he said.
That was it. No details. No mention of Minny or what he was really learning behind that red door. Just a tight-lipped answer that sounded more like a lie.
And then came the nights.
---
Y/N told herself she wasn’t checking. But she was. Every night after closing, she’d pass by the brothel on the way home, gaze hidden under the brim of her coat. Once. Twice. A third time.
And always—always—there he was. Sometimes handing the girl with red lips folded cash. Sometimes disappearing inside after a quiet word, like it was routine now.
And it burned.
Not just the thought of him with another woman. Well if she was honest that too. But the look on his face—gentle, soft, like she used to see when he brought her her favorite beer after a rough night. The look, that smile, used to be hers.
It was raining again. Cold and sharp against the sidewalk.
Y/N stood across the street under the eaves of a shuttered deli. Her hands buried deep in her coat. Ben stood out front of the brothel with that girl again. Talking. Close. She said something and laughed, touching his arm.
Then she kissed his cheek. Her red lips leaving a stain on his cheek. He smiled, slow and soft. Y/N’s heart stuttered. She turned on instinct—spun away fast, like the very sight had cut her.
She didn’t hear his footsteps until they were behind her. “Y/N—!” She didn’t stop. He chased her through the wet streets, calling her name until she finally snapped, “Let me go home, Ben!”
But he didn’t. She reached her apartment door, keys shaking in her hand, when he grabbed her shoulder and turned her around. “What were you doing there?” he asked, breathless, wet from the rain. "That is a dangerous alley to be in for a woman."
She laughed bitterly. “I should ask you that.” His face tightened. “It’s not what you think.”
“You sure about that?”
“She’s just a friend. At my new job.”
“Friends don’t take your money, don't lead you inside a brothel and, and... and kiss your cheek like that. Besides its none of my business who you fuck around with Ben!"
He flinched.
She scoffed. “That’s none of my business, right? I’m just your boss.”
“No, you’re not,” he said, voice cracking. “You never were just my boss.” She looked at him then—really looked. He was wet, shivering, bare in a way he rarely let himself be.
“I needed someone to talk to,” he said. “And I work there, I watch the door. And Minny, she.. I, I needed someone who wasn’t you, because you never let me in.”
She blinked.
“I wanted to know why I wasn’t enough,” he said. “Why I wasn’t man enough to you. So I... I...”
Silence stretched long between them.
And then she whispered, so quietly, “You were always enough. You are more than enough!”
He stepped forward.
The storm outside intensified as Ben closed the gap between them, his chest rising and falling with each breath, the rain dripping off his damp hair. The world felt muffled, contained between the two of them. There was something about the silence in the air, heavy with confession and unspoken emotions.
Ben’s words cut through the stillness.
“You never thought I was enough for you.?” He leaned in closer, his green eyes dark with something she couldn’t quite place. “Not enough to be with you, not enough to be with you.”
Y/N’s heart sank. She opened her mouth, but the words caught in her throat. She felt trapped in that moment, the rain pouring, cold between them, and Ben standing there—waiting.
“I work there,” Ben said suddenly, his voice steady but his hands shaking. “As a bouncer, at the brothel.”
Y/N didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t form a response, so she just stared at him, wide-eyed, her mind racing. He took that as a cue to continue, his words spilling out faster now, raw and unguarded.
“I only slept with Windy twice,” he confessed, and the way he said it made her insides churn. “I didn’t know anything about women. I thought… maybe if I did this, you’d see that I wasn’t just some kid. That maybe, one day, you'd let me in. I thought maybe you’d see me differently, that I’d at least know something.”
Y/N’s heart twisted. She wanted to speak, wanted to tell him that he was so much more than that, but the words wouldn't come. She felt something deep in her gut—a kind of anger mixed with regret—but mostly… sadness.
“And Minny…” Ben’s voice dropped lower, hesitant now. “She said you’re a woman with experience. She said you need a man with experience, someone who knows how to take you, how to handle you, how to be the man you need.”
Y/N felt her breath catch in her throat. There it was—the truth, sharp and unforgiving. Minny had told him what he thought was the reason, the explanation he’d needed all this time. She’d put the idea in his head that she wanted someone like that—someone who could match her in ways Ben hadn’t been able to.
She played him.
For a second, the air around them felt heavy, crackled. Like a storm waiting to break. Y/N blinked, forcing herself to steady her breathing, to look him in the eye, to see the boy she had always known.
But this—this was new. This was him being something he wasn’t. Y/N didn’t know how to answer, but she needed to. She had to say something. Anything.
“I never needed someone like that, Ben,” she whispered, her voice shaking. “I just… You don’t have to pretend to be something else, not for me, not for anyone.”
Ben stepped back, almost stumbling, and he ran a hand through his wet hair, frustrated. He wanted to argue, but the words felt foreign now. Everything felt too raw. His lips trembled as he tried to piece together the jumble of emotions.
“I wanted you to see me differently,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. “I wanted you to see me as a man, not a kid.”
Y/N reached out, gently touching his arm, her fingertips cold against his wet sleeve. “Ben, you’ve always been more than a kid to me. I see you. I always have.”
He shook his head, the doubt still clouding his eyes. “Then why didn’t you ever…?” He trailed off, unable to finish. His vulnerability hung in the air like a weight neither of them could escape.
“I was scared" she admitted. “I was scared of what would happen if I let you in. What it would mean for us. I was scarred you'd learn I'm crazy or or I don't know, not what you want. Scarred you'd leave me like every man in my life had ever done!”
Ben stepped back again, his voice quieter now, almost pleading. “I won't. Not now to ever.”
Y/N’s gaze softened as she took a step toward him. The rain poured down on them, but it was nothing compared to the storm inside them both.
“I know,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.
The rain kept falling, heavy and relentless, as they stood pressed against the door. The storm outside seemed to echo the tension between them, the weight of everything unspoken, everything unsaid, finally crashing over them.
Ben’s hands gripped her arms, holding her firmly, but there was a gentleness now in the way he touched her. His face was close—so close—and his breath was shaky, full of longing and uncertainty.
“Tell me what to do, Y/N,” he pleaded, his voice thick with emotion. “Tell me what to do. I don’t know how to fix this. How to make you see me the way I see you.”
She reached up, her fingers trembling as they pressed against his lips, silencing him gently. His words died in his throat, his eyes wide, searching hers.
The world outside was muted—the steady rhythm of rain, the crackle of thunder, all faded in comparison to the intensity of the moment.
Her fingers lingered on his lips, the touch tender, almost hesitant, but there was something about it that grounded them both. Her heart raced, her pulse quickened, and she finally realized that everything that had built up between them—the fear, the desire, the confusion—was ready to spill over.
A flash of lightning lit up the dark street, and in that blinding moment, something shifted. The walls between them, the distance they’d tried to maintain, crumbled.
Ben’s gaze flickered to her lips, then back to her eyes, searching for permission, for some sign that she wanted this too. The question in his eyes was so raw, so vulnerable, it made her heart ache.
Without thinking, without hesitation, she stepped forward and kissed him.
His lips met hers with an intensity that caught her off guard, his kiss desperate and sure, as though he’d been waiting for this for so long. The heat of it spread like wildfire, and her breath hitched as his lips moved against hers, slow at first, then more urgent.
Ben pulled her hand to his lips, kissing her palm softly, his lips warm against her skin. She gasped, the sensation sending a shiver down her spine, and then he kissed each of her fingers, one by one, his mouth worshipping the delicate skin of her hand.
Her body tensed, her breath quickening, and before she could stop herself, a soft moan escaped her lips. The sound—raw, hungry—echoed in the space between them, only fueling Ben’s need.
In one swift movement, Ben leaned in, his mouth capturing hers once more. This time, it was more than just a kiss. His tongue swept against her lips, demanding entry, and she parted her mouth without thinking. The moment his tongue slid against hers, a gasp broke free from her throat, and she felt the world fall away.
Y/N opened the door blindly behind her, pulling Ben inside with her.
The kiss deepened, both of them losing themselves in the heat, in the urgency. The way he kissed her, like he couldn’t get enough, made her heart race faster. Her hands moved to his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat, matching the pounding of her own.
Y/N’s hands fisted in his wet shirt as she pulled him closer, her body responding to the magnetic pull between them. She moaned again, louder this time, the sound almost foreign to her, but it felt right, felt like something she’d been holding back for far too long.
Ben broke the kiss, both of them gasping for air, but his lips stayed close, brushing against her skin as his hands roamed to her waist, pulling her in tighter.
“I don’t know if I can stop,” he whispered, his voice thick with desire. Y/N looked up at him, eyes wide, chest heaving. She felt like she was floating, drowning in the feeling of him.
“I don’t want you to stop,” she murmured, barely able to form the words.
His lips crashed against hers again, this time with no hesitation, no fear. The storm outside raged on, but it was nothing compared to the feelings between them.
The rain hammered against the windows as Ben followed Y/N to her bedroom, his heart racing, the heat of the moment making everything feel surreal. She tugged him toward her bed, her hands shaking slightly, but there was no hesitation in her movements.
Her fingers fumbled with the buttons of her wet jacket as Ben shed his soaked clothes, the storm outside growing louder, more intense.
Every touch between them was electric, charged with all the emotions they had never allowed themselves to feel before. Y/N pulled him closer, her body pressing against his as she kissed him once more, desperate, as if afraid of losing him.
Ben gently guided her to the bed, the softness of the sheets contrasting with the urgency between them. He lay her down carefully, as if she were something precious—something worth protecting.
She wasn’t just overwhelmed by desire—there was something in Ben’s touch that made her feel seen, understood, as though they were both finally shedding their fears and their insecurities.
Ben kissed her softly, his lips trailing down her neck, her shoulders, his hands exploring her skin with a tenderness that made her heart flutter.
His touch was both reverent and needy, as if he had waited a lifetime to get to this moment—and in some way, maybe they both had.
She closed her eyes, her breath shallow as she felt the heat of his body against hers. But then, when he moved lower, she stopped him, her hand gently on his shoulder.
“Ben… What are you doing?” Her voice was soft, uncertain, but she wasn’t pulling away. He looked up at her, his eyes full of that familiar intensity, but this time there was something else—vulnerability, an unspoken question.
He smiled, that mischievous grin she knew all too well, and then he whispered, “Lay back. Let me show you something.”
Y/N hesitated for a heartbeat, but then she relaxed, sinking back into the bed, her hands gripping the sheets beneath her while she felt his wet hair trailing the way his lips kissed her lower and lower, until his head was between her thighs.
--
Later that night, the storm had quieted, the thunder now distant and low, like the final heartbeat of something long chased. Rain still whispered against the windows, soft and steady. The room was dimly lit by the occasional flicker of lightning far off, casting silver shadows across the tangled sheets and the two bodies entwined within them.
Ben lay on his back, one arm behind his head, the other resting lightly along Y/N’s spine. She was tucked against him, her bare skin warm and relaxed against his side, her head rising and falling with the rhythm of his breath. Her fingers traced slow, lazy patterns across his chest—circles, stars, lines with no real destination. It was quiet in the way people grow quiet after sharing something that changes them.
She broke it first, her voice low and thoughtful. “Why didn’t you ever go?” she asked softly, her finger pausing over his heart. “You always talked about joining the army. You were going to be a soldier.”
Ben didn’t answer right away. His chest rose, then fell, and he turned his head to look at her, his damp hair curling a little at the edges. “You know why.”
Y/N looked up at him.
He exhaled through his nose and gave a small shrug. “I stayed for you.”
Her eyes searched his, but he didn’t flinch, didn’t shy away. It wasn’t a line. There was no performance in the way he said it. Just quiet truth, raw and simple.
“I couldn’t leave you, not with the way things were. After... after everything... You weren’t some damsel, I know that. But you were hurting. And I couldn’t bear the thought of being gone and something happening to you.”
She laid her head back on his chest, heart aching, fingers still against his skin. “You shouldn’t have given up on your dream for me.”
Ben smiled a little, the corner of his mouth tugging up as he looked at the ceiling. “Didn’t feel like giving anything up. Felt like doing the only thing that made sense.”
She was quiet again, her fingers drawing shapes once more—slower now, thoughtful.
“You still could,” she whispered. “If you wanted it.”
He glanced down at her, brow furrowed. “What, join up now?”
“You’re still young. And strong. And stubborn as hell. You’d make a damn fine soldier.” Ben was quiet for a moment, thinking. “Maybe. Maybe not. I don’t know if that dream still fits me, y’know?”
“You talk like you’re fifty,” she said, laughing softly. He grinned, pulling he in closer. “Feels like I’ve lived a lot in the last few years.”
Y/N propped herself up just enough to look at him, her hand resting on his chest, fingers splayed over his heartbeat. “Whatever you do, don’t do it for me, Ben. Not anymore. I care about you too much for that.”
His green eyes held hers. “And what if everything I want just happens to have you in it?”
That made her heart flutter—and ache at the same time. She wasn’t sure what the future looked like. The world was still at war, and they were two people who’d crossed a line they couldn’t uncross. But in that quiet, rainy moment, tangled in each other, she didn’t look away.
She leaned down and kissed his chest softly. "I promise I'll be here at home, waiting for you."
Y/N blinked, her lips still parted from the soft kiss she’d just pressed to his chest, her breath catching in her throat as Ben suddenly slipped from the bed in a rush.
“Ben?” she asked, pulling the covers up instinctively, the air around her cool without his warmth.
“Just wait,” he said over his shoulder, voice breathless, urgent—like he was afraid if he didn’t move fast enough, the moment might vanish. She heard the shuffle of clothing, then the creak of the floorboards as he made his way back to her side of the bed.
He was still completely bare, skin kissed gold by the faint flicker of the streetlamp outside, but he didn’t seem to care. His chest rose and fell with the weight of everything he was feeling, everything he hadn’t been able to say until now.
“I’ll sign up,” he said, voice low but certain, green eyes locked on hers. He was trembling slightly—not with fear, but with something bigger, heavier. “I’ll go. I’ll fight. I’ll do everything I said I would.”
She sat up a little, her brows furrowing, confused by the shift, her heart hammering.
“If…” he took a breath, then dropped to one knee beside the bed, the small velvet ring pouch clutched in his fingers. His hand shook as he opened it.
“If you do me the honor of marrying me.”
The ring wasn’t flashy or grand. It was simple. Modest. A delicate gold band with a single glimmering stone—likely one he’d saved for over months with whatever money he could spare. But in that small piece of jewelry, she saw every early morning he’d helped carry boxes into her bar, every heavy can he’d lifted without being asked. Every bruise he noticed on her arm before she could hide it. Every time he came to work with tired eyes and a quiet heart.
And now he was here. On one knee. Bare and open and honest. Asking her for something that scared them both.
Y/N’s lips parted, but no words came.
Ben swallowed hard, his eyes searching hers. “I know I’m young. I know this is fast. But I’ve loved you since I was just a dumb kid carrying boxes. I loved you when I didn’t even understand what love really was. And I swear, if you say yes—I’ll come back. I’ll survive whatever hell they throw me into just to get back to you.”
Y/N looked down at him, at the ring, at the man he’d become— but after all these years still hers.
And for once, she didn’t think about what was proper, what was smart, or what the neighbors might say. She thought about how she hadn’t really slept the week he disappeared.
She leaned forward, cupping his cheek, and whispered against his mouth, voice trembling—
“Yes, Ben. Yes.”
His exhale was ragged, his forehead falling to hers as he wrapped his arms around her, both of them tangled up in each other again, the storm outside now just a hum. There were still things to face, still a world at war waiting for him—but for that moment, there was only the promise between them.
And it was enough.
For now
--
Taglist Jensen:
@jackles010378 @libby99hb @winchesterwild78 @suckitands33 @mostlymarvelgirl @deans-baby-momma @ancles @tulipsvanilla @thesilmarillionblog @jays-bonnie-on-the-side @kr804573 @kamisobsessed @hobby27 @globetrotter28 @kindollss @muhahaha303 @shadysoulangel @lyarr24 @spxideyver @impala67rollingthroughtown @panickedbitch @deansimpalababy @livya99 @yvonneeeee @ladykitana90 @stoneyggirl2 @imsiriuslyreal @panickedbitch @roseblue373 @n-o-p-e-never @ariasong11 @lmpala1967 @sherlockstrangewolf @spnaquakindgdom @writtenbyhollywood @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @healojane @star-yawnznn @cevansbaby-dove
Hii idk if you take Jensen ackles request but I was wondering if u could make one of him and actress!reader. Like they meet during the 1st season during the episode wendigo. Basically how Jared and Gen.
𓂃˖ ࣪⊹ take one, forever,
summary. jensen, jared, and you. the stars of the tvshow supernatural. and damn, there's a lot of chemistry.
pairing. jensen ackles x actress!reader genre. fluff ; slice of life au
wordcount. 527
notes / warnings. loved loved this request! thank you so much sweets 🩷
The first time you meet Jensen Ackles, it’s freezing.
You're deep in the Vancouver woods, shooting Wendigo, bundled up in layers that do nothing against the biting cold. Your breath puffs out in white clouds as you hug yourself, shifting from foot to foot to stay warm.
Then, from behind you—
"You’re gonna shiver yourself right off this set if you keep that up."
You turn, and there he is.
Jensen Ackles.
Even under the layers of flannel and the worn-in leather jacket, he looks insanely good. Sharp green eyes, that easy, lazy smirk—like the cold doesn’t affect him at all. Like he’s made for this.
"You’re not cold?" you ask, incredulous.
He shrugs, taking a sip of his coffee. “Nah. Texas blood.”
You roll your eyes. “Right. Meanwhile, I’m over here turning into a human popsicle.”
Jensen grins, and without hesitation, he shrugs off his jacket, stepping closer to drape it over your shoulders. “Here. Don’t tell wardrobe.”
You blink up at him, surprised. The jacket is warm—smells like leather and a hint of aftershave.
"Jensen, I can’t take—"
"Sure, you can." He winks. “Can’t have my co-star turning blue before we even hit episode two.”
You should’ve known, right then and there, that you were in trouble.
𓂃˖ ࣪⊹
The thing about Jensen is—he’s stupidly easy to like.
It starts small.
The inside jokes between takes. The way he always, always makes sure you’re okay after a long day. How he learns your coffee order by week two and starts showing up with an extra cup, just for you.
And then, one day, Jared figures it out before you even do.
“You guys are so obvious.”
You nearly drop your script. “What?”
Jared smirks, stretching out on one of the director’s chairs. “You and Jensen. The thing.”
“There is no thing.”
Jared gives you the most Jared look ever. “Right. So you just happen to be wearing his jacket again?”
Your face heats. “It’s cold—”
“And the way he looks at you? I mean, come on.”
You roll your eyes, but later, when you catch Jensen watching you from across set—his gaze lingering, thoughtful, warm—you wonder if maybe Jared has a point.
𓂃˖ ࣪⊹
It happens in the quiet, in-between moments.
A late night on set, waiting out a rain delay, just the two of you huddled under the same coat, talking about everything and nothing.
A wrap party, where he pulls you onto the dance floor, spinning you like it’s the easiest thing in the world.
A Tuesday afternoon, where he catches you laughing at something stupid Jared said and mutters, God, you’re something else, like he didn’t even mean to say it out loud.
And then—
"You wanna grab dinner sometime?"
You look up, heart stuttering. "Like… cast dinner?"
Jensen shakes his head, smirking just a little. “Nah. Just us.”
You swallow, pulse skipping. “Like a date?”
He shrugs, but there’s something softer in his gaze. “Yeah. If you want it to be.”
You do. God, you do.
"Yeah," you breathe. "I’d like that."
And when he grins, dimples deep and ridiculously charming, you think—
Maybe this is the start of something big.
ꔛ. navigation 𓂃˖ ࣪ all drabbles ; compatibility readings ; support my work .ᐟ
want be part of the taglist.ᐣ ⋆.˚ ★— @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing ⋆ @deans-daydream ⋆ @taurus0queenie33 ⋆ @ambiguous-avery ⋆ @itsdearapril ⋆ @nymphet-quenn ⋆ @bluemerakis ⋆ @titsout4jackles ⋆ @hauntedrose555 ⋆ @chevroletdean ⋆ @dulcescorderitas ⋆ @blackmarketfruitrollups ⋆ @impala67rollingthroughtown ⋆ @nervoussystems ⋆ @daryls-luvrr ⋆ @sunnyteume ⋆ @drakelover78 ⋆ @angelblqde ⋆ @mostlymarvelgirl ⋆ @whisperingdaze ⋆ @bossyblondie ⋆ @iluvnewtie ⋆ @s0urw00lf ⋆ @giggles1026 ⋆ @ocelotlist51 ⋆ @lelapine ⋆ @lemonswinchester ⋆ @4k1vrr ⋆ @szyszoszelest ⋆ @angelicalm3ss ⋆ @writtenbyhollywood ⋆ @xo-zeze ⋆ @freeluigihesbae ⋆ @viarasvogue ⋆ @ladykitana90 ⋆ @h8aaz ⋆ @multiversefanfics ⋆ @roseblue373 ⋆ @idontwannabehere78 ⋆ @miss-marmalade ⋆ @jaredpadonlyyyy ⋆ @dyhsversion ⋆ @valkyrieslittleworld
Arcane Imagine;
pairings; Vi/reader
Imagine you and Vi moving in together for the first time.
warnings; fluff, established relationship, love sick!vi, more fluff & comfort, arcane au, implied smut reference, teasing, s*xual jokes
a/n; I recently moved <33 so I wanted to write a lil something for vi I can now get back to writing and making silly lil posts because moving is exhausting as fuck lmao
You and Vi have been thinking about moving in together for the longest time, Vi first thought about it when she laid eyes on you when she saw you at the bar
You were with your friends, hanging out, drinks in hand, laughing along with them, she couldn't stop staring at you, how gorgeous you looked that night, how effortlessly beautiful you are to her
She really was a moth that was drawn to the flame
Because randomly, after meeting you, talking to you for a few hours in some bathroom, she was already attached to you, she didn't say it out loud then, it took her ages to actually tell you she has feelings for you
When she did though, it was the best decision she's made, and the one that didn't go to shit
Vi is always by your side, clinging to you, like a lost puppy, it's adorable, you think, as you do the same to her
But when it's just you two, she really let's down her walls and is just completely herself
When there's others around, she puts on that tough act, your very own scary dog privilege
No one can touch you or talk to you in a wrong way, and if someone upsets you, makes you uncomfortable, well they're in for a beating
Vi does not mind getting her knuckles bloody for you
When you brought up the idea of living together in an apartment, even if it wasn't that big and the rent was high, Vi immediately jumped on board
You found it really fucking cute, watching her ramble excitedly about how you two should decorate your room, apartment, she says how you can have your plants in different places, a nice coffee table, a tv, games, you just really liked listening to her talk
Now when you two did the apartment hunting, that was long and slightly boring, having to meet up with strangers to potentially set a deal on your new home, yes, you were both still very excited, and finally, after trying to find the right one, you both found your home
You got what you could afford, and after signing the lease and getting the keys, you were able to officially move in
The moving was stressful, getting everything together, making sure nothing was lost or broken, Vi kept on worrying about her CDs and DVD collection, same with her other collections she has that she didn't want to lose, stuff that she's kept from her childhood, rare items she's found that people have thrown away for some reason and it's actually worth a lot, Vi likes those stuff, she likes finding good things
You like to add to the collections to, when you find things that remind you of Vi
Vi wouldn't show much of her "nerdy" side to anyone else but you had that special spot
There definitely would be Vi making sex jokes, how the new couch would be perfect to try new positions on, or how the bed might not last that long, for that you slapped her playfully on the shoulder, and she laughed hard
She loved teasing you
And will not stop
Vi never really knew she was ever gonna experience this, just that domestic life filled with good moments that will play a huge part in your life for years, and here she was with you, she did not want to let go
Vi was excited about turning this place into a home that shows the both of you, so when they invited people over they would know immediately
She was crazy for you, in the best way possible and you wouldn't have it anyway else
‘TILL THE END
hwang in-ho x wife!reader
you played the games before your husband played in 2015. the money you won was enough to convince your husband to play and stay as the frontman. but not without you by his side.
─────౨ৎ─────
faking your death isn’t as hard as it seems to be. is just as easy as a disappearance
you had been missing for a while. everyone had been worried. your parents,your siblings, and especially your husband. the moment he saw you, he felt like a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders.
then the questions started, "where have you been? do you even know how worried I was? ". which you could only answer by showing him the fruit of your success. the 45.6 billion won in your bank account made him go completely silent from his long rant.
although he didn’t seem to believe the place you were describing, which was quite understandable, you knew exactly what would.
"join the games", you had whispered to him in between kisses. "I’ll help you find the salesman. but please. just join the games." and so he did exactly what his wife told him to do.
that is when the opportunity of becoming the frontman was offered to him.
leaving your old life behind was part of the contract. his old life, meaning you and everyone he’s ever loved, they had told him. he had immediately refused. if you weren’t allowed to join him, he would never step foot on that island again.
to you, this had been the best decision you had ever made as a couple. you were ready to spend the rest of your life beside him. helping him control the games, the players,but especially having your own little family grow up on that island
─────౨ৎ─────
a/n: its almost midnight and i cant go to sleep . so this is what i do instead. btw this is not proof read so if there’s any mistakes let me know!!
favvvvv
Waves of Love
Drew Starkey x younger!gf!reader
hi guys this was in my drafts for a long time because i wanted it to be perfect, it’s really important topic!! important to me because i volunteer in many many things, like helping the animals and children and many more things. I do this for a long time, i started when i was 11 and please volunteer help other people or animals!!! it doesn’t cost anything.
word count: 2k? i think
masterlist
It was a crisp autumn morning, and the sun was slowly creeping over the horizon, painting the sky with hues of orange and pink. Drew sat in the quiet of his trailer, preparing for another long day of shooting for Outer Banks. Though the set was buzzing with the usual pre-production energy, Drew found himself lost in thoughts of his girlfriend, y/n. They had been dating for just over a year, and every day with her felt like a new adventure.
Y/N had always been passionate about animal conservation, especially marine life. She had grown up near the coast, where the ocean was both a playground and a sanctuary. As long as Drew had known her, she had always been at the forefront of causes that advocated for the protection of aquatic animals, often volunteering her time to help with rescue efforts, rehabilitation, and beach clean-ups. Drew admired her dedication and often found himself in awe of how much she cared about making the world a better place, even if it was in small ways that often went unnoticed by the public.
Her latest endeavor was the launch of a foundation that focused on protecting ocean ecosystems and the creatures that lived within them. It had been a long time coming, and she had finally taken the plunge, officially starting her charity. She had a big heart and had poured her soul into the work, determined to make a difference.
Drew was incredibly supportive of her passion, and he knew that, as her boyfriend, his role was not only to be her biggest fan but also to use his platform to bring awareness to her cause.
𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺
Later that day, Drew was on set with his Outer Banks co-stars, Madelyn Cline, Rudy Pankow, and Jonathan Daviss. They were in the middle of filming a scene, but there was a break in between shots, and the cast members gathered in the green room to relax.
As usual, Drew’s phone buzzed with messages from Y/N. He smiled as he read the text she had sent him earlier in the morning:
“Hey babe! Just wanted to let you know the ocean rescue team is getting a big donation today! Feels like a win! Can’t wait to see you later! xx”
Drew felt a swell of pride for her. It wasn’t always easy for people to understand the work she did, but Drew had always been an advocate for her cause, both publicly and privately. He loved watching her shine in ways that were truly meaningful.
Suddenly, a voice broke him from his reverie. It was Madelyn, always the curious one, her eyes lighting up as she spoke.
“Drew, we heard you’ve been pretty vocal about Y/N and her animal rescue foundation lately. What’s that all about? Are you her PR guy now?”
Drew laughed, not at all surprised by the teasing. “No, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t proud of her,” he said, his voice soft but sincere. “She’s doing something important, something that matters. I’ll always support her.”
Rudy leaned in, ever the supportive friend. “Yeah, dude, we’ve all seen the posts. You’ve been going all out, spreading the word about her foundation. It’s pretty awesome.”
Drew smiled, a mixture of pride and humility showing on his face. “It’s easy when the person you’re supporting is someone like Y/N. She’s amazing. She’s working hard to help the ocean, the creatures, and the people who care about it.”
Madelyn, always curious, grinned. “So, what’s the big push? How can we help?”
Drew looked at his co-stars, then pulled out his phone. “Actually, Y/N sent me this link earlier today,” he said, showing them the website for her foundation, Waves of Hope.
“Here,” he said, scrolling through the site. “There’s a donation link, but she’s also looking for volunteers who can help with rescues and educational programs.”
Jonathan, who had been listening intently, smiled. “I’m down. I mean, I love the ocean, and if we can help, why not?”
Drew’s eyes softened as he gazed at his friends. “Exactly. She’s all about getting as many people involved as possible. Every little bit counts.”
“Hell yeah!” Rudy added. “If there’s one thing I’m passionate about besides acting, it’s the environment. Let’s do it.”
Madelyn was nodding enthusiastically. “I’ll definitely sign up. I mean, how often do we get to help out with something so meaningful?”
The conversation turned to ways they could support the cause, and Drew knew that by having his co-stars on board, it would make a significant difference. The exposure was exactly what Waves of Hope needed, and it would show[Y/N how much Drew’s support meant.
𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺
As the day wore on, Drew kept an eye on social media. He was used to the whirlwind of comments, posts, and questions from fans, but today was different. A post from him had garnered more attention than usual. It was a photo of him and Y/N taken at the beach, a candid shot that captured the joy they shared in each other’s presence.
Drewstarkey✔︎
liked by madelyncline and 4.5M others
drewstarkey : So proud of my girl for all the work she’s doing with Waves of Hope. If you’re looking to make a difference, check out her foundation and find out how you can get involved. The ocean and all its creatures need us now more than ever.
comments:
madelyncline✔︎: Incredible work, Y/N! So proud of you and everything you’re doing for our oceans.
fan88: This is the kind of love and support we all need. So proud of both of you for spreading awareness about this vital cause! 🙌 #OceanConservation
Jonathandaviss✔︎: Keep shining, Y/N, you’re making such a big difference. 💪 #WavesOfHope
fan33: Such a great cause! I just donated and signed up to volunteer! Let’s make a change! 🌱🐬 #WavesOfHope
load more….
The comments were flooding in with fans expressing their support. But what Drew didn’t expect was the media attention that followed. Outlets began to cover his endorsement of Y/N’s cause, with headlines that ranged from the heartwarming to the investigative:
“Drew Starkey Supports Girlfriend’s Ocean Conservation Foundation”
“Outer Banks’ Drew Starkey Shows Off His ‘Real’ Side with Emotional Support for Girlfriend’s Charity”
“Drew Starkey: From On-Screen Hero to Real-Life Advocate for Marine Life”
𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺
As expected, the next day, Drew found himself in front of a reporter for an interview that was mostly focused on his latest projects and the upcoming season of Outer Banks. But, of course, the subject of his relationship with Y/N and her work came up as well.
“So, Drew,” the interviewer began, “there’s been a lot of buzz about your relationship with Y/N, and we’ve noticed that you’ve been using your platform to promote her foundation, Waves of Hope. What made you decide to get so involved in supporting her cause?”
Drew took a moment before answering. He wasn’t one to shy away from talking about the people he cared about, especially Y/N. “Y/N has a passion for the ocean and marine life that I’ve never seen before. She’s out there working tirelessly to make a real difference. It’s an honor to support her in any way I can.”
He smiled, his pride for her evident. “We all need to do our part to protect the planet, especially the oceans. They’re so important, not just for the creatures that live there, but for the health of our entire world. I’m just happy to be a small part of what she’s doing.”
The interviewer smiled, clearly impressed with Drew’s words. “That’s incredible. It seems like you’re encouraging others to get involved too. Is that something you’re passionate about?”
“I believe in using your platform for good,” Drew said, looking directly at the camera. “If I can help raise awareness and encourage others to take action, even in small ways, then I think it’s worth it.”
The interviewer nodded. “We love seeing you so supportive of Y/N. You’ve been pretty vocal on social media about her foundation as well.”
Drew chuckled. “What can I say? I’m proud of her. And I know she’s doing something important, so it’s easy to get behind.”
𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺
As the weeks went by, Drew continued to show his support for Y/N and her foundation. The media attention eventually simmered down, but the momentum for Waves of Hope had only grown. Fans who had never considered supporting environmental causes were now signing up to volunteer, donating, and spreading the word about the importance of ocean conservation.
For Y/N, the success of her foundation was a dream come true, but it wasn’t without its challenges. Running a charity was no easy feat, and there were times when she felt overwhelmed by the demands of it all. That’s when Drew stepped in, offering a steady hand and a listening ear. He was always there when she needed him, whether it was for a quiet evening at home to recharge or a public appearance to help raise funds.
One evening, after a particularly successful fundraiser, Drew and Y/N were sitting on the beach, watching the waves crash against the shore. It was their favorite spot to unwind, and as the night sky enveloped them in its peaceful embrace, Drew turned to her.
“You did it, babe,” he said softly. “You’ve really made an impact.”
Y/N smiled, her heart swelling with gratitude. “I couldn’t have done it without you. You’ve always had my back.”
Drew leaned in and kissed her forehead gently. “Always.”
As they sat together in the calm of the night, the ocean whispering around them, Drew realized just how much he had fallen for Y/N. Her passion, her drive, and her unwavering commitment to making the world a better place were just some of the things that made her the woman he loved.
love y’all!!!!💗
The Gas Station
pairing: Rafe Cameron x Pregnant!Reader
summary: Y/n is in her final trimester of her pregnancy and Rafe is eager to make sure the birth of his first baby goes smoothly, but thanks to Y/n's stubbornness they find themselves stuck in a pretty sticky situation with the last two people they expected.
a/n: So I watched "We Live In Time" yesterday and I loved the movie so much that I wanted to rewrite the childbirth scene from it cause it was my favourite! Rafe is so 'grumpy to everyone else but soft for her' core in this. Ps: I’ve never given birth so this might not be too accurate, don’t kill me
warnings: Spoilers for the 'we live in time' childbirth scene, mentions of contractions, labour, childbirth (pretty visual ig?), mentions of a zoot but no smoking, mentions of alcohol but no drinking.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The living room of the Chateau was warm and filled with the low hum of conversation. Sarah was sprawled on the floor, while Kiara leaned back against the couch, discussing the possibilities of the new Cameron baby being a boy or girl. Pope sat at the kitchen table, half-focused on whatever book he had cracked open, pen scribbling against the paper trying to figure out the probability the mathematical way, and Cleo lounged near the window, lazily watching the wind shift the trees outside as they all spoke to one another
Y/n was sitting on the couch opposite Sarah and Kiara, half-listening, half-focused on the cookie in her hand as her other one rubbed over her large, rounded belly. Sarah grinned as she caught Y/n eyeing the cookie.
“What, are my cookies that good?”
Y/n opened her mouth to answer but suddenly sucked in a sharp breath. Her hand instinctively flew to her lower stomach, the cookie forgotten on the side of the couch.
Rafe, who had been leaning against the doorway, taking the time to admire the girl in her last couple of days of pregnancy, immediately straightened. His relaxed expression vanished. She had been persistent that she wanted to come and visit Sarah and the Pogue’s at the chateau, and as much as he protested, knowing the due date of their baby was any day now, she managed to sway him with those pleading eyes of hers and small pout, which he couldn’t seem to say no to.
“What’s wrong?”
His voice softened, but there was a thread of tension running through it as he crossed the room in two quick steps. Y/n didn’t answer right away. She squeezed her eyes shut, shifting to the edge of the sofa and placing both hands on her belly. She took in a slow, shaky breath.
“I… think I’m having contractions.”
The room fell into a sudden, heavy silence as they all looked at eachother.
Sarah blinked. “Wait, what? Like, actual contractions?”
Cleo sat up straighter, eyeing her. “No way sweet thing, maybe you just ate too many of them damn cookies huh?”
“Okay, that’s it. We’re leaving. Right now.”
Rafe’s face paled and he was already patting his pockets for the car keys, panic creeping into his voice as he grabbed the girl’s shoes from next to the door. Pope closed his book slowly, brows furrowed.
“Hold on, how far apart are they? That matters, right?”
Kiara leaned forward, calm but attentive. “Yeah, how bad was that one? Like, on a scale of one to ‘get in the car’?”
Y/n exhaled slowly, leaning her head back. “It wasn’t that bad. Just… caught me off guard. I’m fine.”
“Fine? You just said you’re having contractions!”
Sarah gawked her eyes wide with disbelief. She had been buzzing with excitement ever since she found out she was going to be an aunt. The girl had been planning baby showers and picking out names for months, practically bouncing off the walls with anticipation that her brother was going to be a father, and that he’d changed so much since the couple had found out about their little angel. And now, that Y/n was in labour, and she couldn’t help but feel a mixture of concern and sheer excitement.
“She said ‘think,’” Cleo corrected, smirking. “Key word, Sarah. Could just be gas, ya know?”
Y/n let out a weak laugh. “Thanks for that, Cleo.”
Rafe didn’t laugh. He crouched in front of her, eyes scanning her face for any sign of distress, “Y/n, we should go. The hospital’s all the way in Figure 8, and we’re in the Cut, that’s not a quick drive.”
Y/n shook her head, breathing steadily, she’d noticed how he’d been on edge for the past few weeks, his nerves fraying with every little thing. Rafe cared about her more than he ever thought possible- she was everything to him. The thought of losing her or their baby terrified him to his core, he couldn’t bear the thought of not being there for her, of not protecting the two most important people in his life.
“Rafey, that was the first contraction, my waters not even broken yet. We have time.”
“No, we don’t,” he snapped, then caught himself and softened his tone, letting out a sigh, “I just… I don’t want to risk it, okay?”
Kiara, who was watching the exchange with an amused expression surprised to see the once frat boy asshole so attentive, leaned over to Sarah.
“Is he always this dramatic?”
“Oh yeah, it's become a talent.”
Pope stood up, slipping his hands into his pockets. “Look, if they’re still spaced out, you probably have hours. First babies take their time. But we should keep track.” As he looked around the kitchen drawers for something, cutlery clanged in them as he opened and shut the wooden furniture, finally fishing out an old plastic stopwatch.
Rafe shot him a glare, “Yeah, well, I’m not exactly betting on that.”
Y/n reached for Rafe’s hand, squeezing it gently. “Lets just sit here for a bit more please. If they get worse, we’ll go.”
Rafe stared at her for a long moment, then let out a frustrated breath. “Fine. But if anything changes, we’re out of here. No arguments.”
“No arguments.”
She responded as she smiled in agreement, leaning forward slightly to give the boy a quick peck on the lips. Reluctantly, Rafe sat beside her, shuffling so she rested against his side, his hand protectively resting on her belly, a place it had gotten used to resting on in the past few months. Sarah cleared her throat.
“So… does this mean more cookies, or…?”
Y/n laughed out nodding her head with wide eyes and Cleo snorted at the girl's reaction.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The room had grown quieter, but the tension clung to the air as Rafe stood by the window, pacing with his phone pressed to his ear. His free hand raked over his short hair as he listened to the calm, too-casual voice on the other end of the line.
“What do you mean we shouldn’t come in yet?” Rafe snapped, disbelief lacing his voice.
“She’s in labour!”
The nurse on the other end responded evenly, used to anxious fathers. “Sir, unless her contractions are between three to five minutes apart, there’s no point in coming now. First-time labours can take hours, sometimes longer. You’ll be more comfortable at home.”
Rafe’s jaw tightened. “Do you know who I am?” his tone dropped, sharp and cold, “My family practically owns half this island, and you’re telling me to just sit around and wait?”
From the couch, Sarah groaned audibly and rolled her eyes.
“Oh my God.”
She pushed off the armrest and stormed over, snatching the phone from Rafe’s hand before he could say another word and pressed it to her ear,
“Hi, sorry about him,” Sarah said sweetly into the phone, giving Rafe a sharp glare. “We’ll keep an eye on things and call if anything changes. Thanks for your help.”
She hung up and tossed the phone onto the table.
“Are you serious right now?” she snapped. “Pulling the Cameron card on a nurse? What was that supposed to do- magically speed up labor?”
Rafe’s eyes flashed angrily as he looked down to his younger sister, his finger jabbing into his chest as he spoke, “I’m trying to make sure she’s safe, Sarah! We’re stuck in this shithole cause you've,” his raised his finger pointing it to his temple, “put some voodoo spell on her so she doesn't want to leave and no one seems to care!”
Cleo looked over from where she was sitting, flipping her pocket knife, her eyebrows raised, clearly impressed by his sudden bizarre speculation. Sarah crossed her arms.
“Yelling at the hospital won’t fix that. You need to calm down before you stress her out even more.”
Rafe opened his mouth to argue, but the sound of the back door creaking open cut him off. Kiara stepped in, shaking off the light drizzle from outside, a bright blue yoga ball awkwardly tucked under her arm.
“Found it!” she grinned, holding it out like a trophy.
Y/n’s face lit up despite the discomfort. “Oh, thank God.”
Kiara rolled it over to her, and Y/n carefully shifted forward, accepting it gratefully.
“I heard these help,” Kiara said with a small smile.
Y/n slowly eased herself onto the ball, her hands holding onto Kiara’s outstretched ones in support before she sat down on the plastic sphere starting to gently bounce. A relieved sigh slipped from her lips.
“Oh wow… yeah, this is way better.”
Sarah smirked. “Look, see? This is called helping, Rafe.”
Cleo, still lounging by the window, spoke up. “Yeah man, maybe if you threaten the ball next it’ll really speed things up.”
Pope cracked a small smile from his spot at the table at the girl’s words. Rafe, still tense, exhaled sharply and dropped into a chair by the kitchen table, rubbing his hands over his face. His eyes drifted to Y/n, watching her breathe easier with each bounce. As he watched her, he realised he seemed to be more stressed than she was, but was he in the wrong for that? He only wanted to make sure the mother of his child could have the most comfort possible. Without a word, he pushed up from his chair and slowly crossed the room. He crouched down in front of her, eyes locked on her face, his hands resting lightly on her knees.
“Baby… are you sure you want to stay here?”
His voice was softer now, the edge gone, replaced by something fragile. Y/n blinked down at him, her breathing steady. She lifted one hand from her belly and gently cupped his cheek, her thumb brushing along his skin which was still smooth from when he shaved before they left their home.
“Rafey, please relax, yeah?” she murmured, her other hand drifting to rest protectively over her bump. “We’re okay.”
The weight in his chest loosened just a little at the sound of her voice, but it didn’t disappear.
Rafe leaned in just a bit closer. “Okay, but when you start feeling off you tell me, yeah?”
Y/n gave him a playful eye roll, but her smile was soft. She leaned forward, pressing a sweet, lingering kiss to his lips once more, she knew he was on edge, but she just wanted peace for the last few hours it was going to be just the two of them.
“Yes, I promise.”
Rafe’s shoulders finally dropped as he let out a quiet breath, grounding himself in her touch. Behind them, Kiara exchanged a look with Sarah and smirked.
“Well, that’s gross.”
Sarah laughed under her breath at her best friend's comments, shaking her head, but there was a warmth in her smile as she watched them. As much as she teased, she couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of happiness for her brother. It was clear that Y/n had done something to him- something that had changed him for the better, something that made him softer, more present. Sarah could see it in the way he looked at her, how much he cared. It warmed her heart to know her brother had found someone who truly made him happy.
Rafe didn’t hear the girls giggling as his focus was completely on Y/n, “Alright,” he whispered, brushing his thumb along her knee before standing.
“Just… don’t scare me like that again.”
Y/n smiled, leaning back and resuming her gentle bounce on the yoga ball hands circling her bump again.
“No promises.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hours had passed the sky outside the windows now dark, the streetlamps having switched on which caused an orange glow around the island, but time seemed to stretch as the intensity of Y/n’s contractions grew. The living room was dim, the rain outside tapping softly on the windows, the air thick with anticipation.
Y/n was on her knees, her body leaning against the couch for support. Her face clearly reflected her discomfort, lips pressed together in effort as she rocked back and forth slowly, trying to breathe through the latest wave of pain. Rafe kneeled beside her, one hand gently rubbing her back, the other resting on her arm. His voice was low, soothing, a steady presence as he spoke to her.
“Is it passing?”
Y/n groaned softly, her breath hitching before she let out a quiet whine, barely audible.
“Yeah… it’s passing.”
Rafe’s jaw tightened, but he kept his hand on her back, massaging in slow circles, his eyes never leaving her face. He looked up to Pope, who was standing near the window, timing her contractions with the stopwatch hanging loosely around his neck.
Pope glanced at the timer, then back at Rafe. “Okay, that’s about ten minutes apart now, but getting closer.”
Rafe’s gaze shifted back to Y/n, his concern deepening. He rubbed her back a little harder, as if that would somehow ease her discomfort, “Sweet girl,” he murmured gently, leaning closer, his breath warm against her ear.
“I think we should get going now, hmm? The hospital’s still a bit of a drive.”
Y/n, in a small haze of pain, didn’t answer immediately. She just rested her head against her arms on the couch, humming out in agreement. Her nod was slow, but definite.
“Mmhm… yeah, let’s go,” she whispered, her voice small and weary.
Rafe exhaled, relief flooding through him but mixing with the urgency that had been building in his chest. He helped her slowly rise, supporting her as she stood, her legs somewhat unsteady beneath her.
“Alright, that's it”
As Rafe helped Y/n slowly stand, Sarah came rushing down the stairs, her face flushed from the hurry. Cleo was right behind her, holding a bag in one hand and a frantic expression on her face.
“Rafe!” Sarah called out, her voice breathless. “We got the bag Y/n left last time.”
She handed it over to Rafe, but before he could take it, Cleo swiped it from her hands with a dramatic roll of her eyes.
“Let the man take her to the car,” Cleo said, “I got this.”
Cleo gave Rafe a reassuring pat on the shoulder before turning to Y/n. “You’re good, girl. Just focus on not giving birth in here, aight?”
Y/n let out a soft chuckle, despite the tension in the air. “I’m fine. I’m fine,” she repeated, her voice calm and steady. Rafe shot Cleo a grateful look, still holding Y/n’s arm as she stood by herself, steady on her feet.
“Thank you,” he muttered under his breath, before turning back to Y/n. “Okay, baby, let’s get you to the car. You sure you’re alright to walk?”
Y/n gave him a sideways glance, rolling her eyes a little. “I’m fine, Rafe, really.”
But before they could make it to the door, Kiara popped up, her eyes wide with a mixture of concern and determination. “Wait, wait, don’t leave without me I want to say goodbye!”
Sarah quickly followed behind, carrying a jacket for Y/n, while Pope grabbed his keys, shaking his head in amusement. The group swarmed around Y/n, helping her navigate the small space. It was a chaotic rush of arms and voices as everyone tried to keep the situation under control- except for Y/n, who was walking at a steady pace, looking far calmer than anyone else in the room. It was amusing, watching everyone fuss over her, she couldn't wait till the baby was here and they’d have all their aunts and uncles fussing at their every cry.
“I swear, I’m fine,” she said again, giving Rafe a teasing smile as she walked on her own. “I’ve got this.”
Rafe’s eyes were glued to her, his brow furrowed in concern, but a small smile tugged at his lips as he followed her toward the door.
“Alright, if you say so,” he muttered, his voice low but full of warmth.
The car was already parked outside, the engine running, the group had gathered around the car, each of them offering their well-wishes as Y/n leaned against the car door, not wanting to get in till Rafe came out. He’d gone back in to the bathroom and Sarah had scolded him for being an ‘unprofessional dad-to-be’ which he told her to ‘fuck off’. Sarah called out, giving her a thumbs-up.
“Good luck, Y/n! Let us know when Baby Cameron gets here!”
“You got this,” Kiara added, offering a smile. “Call us if you need anything- I mean we can’t give birth but you know….”
Cleo, arms crossed and leaning against the car, smirked. “Don’t be taking forever, yeah? I wanna meet the little Poguette!”
“Poguette? We don’t know the gender yet” Pope asked as he turned to the girl eyebrows drawn down into a small confused frown
“Don’t worry- auntie Cleo’s got a feeling” She responded with a wide smile as she winked to Y/n causing her to giggle.
“I think you mean Kookette not Poguette”
Rafe spoke up as he appeared back from the house helping the girl into her seat. Y/n, sitting in the car, gave them all a tired but genuine smile, her face a little flushed from the effort. “I’ll do my best. Don’t worry, you’ll all get your chance to meet Baby Cameron soon.”
Rafe was about to close the door when she paused.
“Wait!”
The group froze, and all eyes snapped toward her, panic flashing in their faces for a brief second.
“Is everything okay? Are you—?” Sarah started, her tone suddenly worried.
Y/n looked up at her friends, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. Biting her bottom lip gently before she spoke out,
“Are there any of those cookies left?”
The entire group stared at her for a beat, then burst into laughter, the tension breaking in an instant. Kiara snorted. “Nope, you ate them all, girl, not a crumb left.”
Y/n’s face dropped in exaggerated disappointment. “Aw, man… they were so good.”
Rafe, who had just started to walk around the front of the car, stopped and turned back to her with a grin. “Come on, baby. You’ll get your cookies in the hospital. I promise.”
“Guess that’ll have to do.”
Y/n sighed softly, leaning back into her seat with a deep breath. Kiara leaned in the window, shaking her head but grinning. “You’re gonna eat cookies while in labor…?”
“Hey, it’s what I want.”
Rafe sighed, shaking his head at the girl, but he couldn’t hide the fond smile that crept onto his face as he finally closed the door. He muttered, half to himself, as he walked around to the driver’s side. “We’re getting you to the hospital, cookies or not.”
The group waved them off, still laughing and calling out their goodbyes, as Rafe got in the car. Y/n smiled at the familiar faces outside the window before the car pulled away, heading toward the hospital.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The drive from the Cut to Figure 8 was a blur. Rafe’s focus was entirely on the road, but his eyes kept flicking over to Y/n, every so often. She was gripping the handle on the roof of the car, her knuckles white as the pain of her contractions began to intensify. Rafe’s hand rested on her thigh, his fingers gently squeezing as he glanced at her.
“How we doing baby?”
He asked softly, though he could already see the tightness in her jaw, the way she was trying to breathe through the pain. Y/n groaned lowly, her grip on the car handle tightening as her breath hitched.
“Mmm, not great…”
She muttered, her voice strained. Her back arched slightly as another wave of pain hit, and her hand shifted to rest protectively on her belly. Rafe’s heart ached for her, but he kept his voice steady, trying to keep her calm.
“Breathe, baby. Yeah? Just like we practiced in the classes.”
His voice was gentle, encouraging, though it wasn’t lost on him how much harder it was for her now. Y/n nodded slightly, her eyes squeezing shut as she focused on her breathing. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Her whole body rocked with the rhythm, but it didn’t stop the groans slipping out of her.
“That’s it, baby. Good—”
“Shut the fuck up, Rafe.”
Her voice was sharp despite the pain, and Rafe froze for a moment, blinking in surprise at her words but he couldn't help but accept them with a nod. She was the one in labour not him. Y/n’s hand pressed harder against her bump as she groaned, her head resting back against the seat, her body arching slightly in response to the contraction.
She wasn’t having it.
Rafe couldn’t help but smile slightly at her attitude, but it was tender as he spoke, “Okay, okay,” he muttered, his hand still gently on her thigh. “I’m sorry.”
He kept his eyes on the road driving carefully, now that he had precious cargo in his car, but they would flicker occasionally to Y/n in the passenger’s seat. Always watching, always waiting, as they pushed forward toward the hospital. The pain was coming in waves now, each one crashing over her with more intensity than the last. Y/n’s body was tense, and her breathing was shallow, but she still managed to mutter through the strain,
“Sorry… just hurts…”
Rafe’s grip on the steering wheel tightened slightly as he leaned forward, his eyes focused on the road, but Y/n could see the subtle tension in his jaw, the way his knuckles went white around the wheel.
“You don’t need to apologize to me, baby,” Rafe said softly, his voice tight.
Y/n turned her head slightly, her eyes meeting his for a split second. He looked anxious, his focus split between her and the road ahead. The tightness in his posture didn’t escape her, and she could see how much he was trying to hold it together. With a small, reassuring smile, Y/n placed her hand over his, which was still resting on her thigh. The touch was gentle but firm,
“Ready to meet Baby Cameron?”
She mumbled, her voice soft but sincere, trying to ease some of the stress in the car. Rafe’s breath hitched at the mention of their baby, and he glanced down at their hands, a small smile crossing his face. He squeezed her hand, his thumb brushing gently across her skin.
“You’re incredible,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “And I’m so lucky that you’re the mother of my child Y/n… I love you.”
She squeezed his hand back, her eyes softening as she leaned back against the seat. Her breath was steadier now, a calmness settling in her chest as she gave him a small, exhausted smile.
“I love you, too, Rafey,” she whispered back.
—
The car crawled forward for a few agonizing seconds before the engine came to a halt once more. Rafe slammed his hand against the horn in frustration, the sharp sound echoing through the stillness of the traffic. His knuckles were white as he gripped the wheel, his jaw clenched tight.
“Fuck.”
He muttered under his breath, his eyes darting around, trying to make sense of why the cars ahead weren’t moving. Y/n, breath coming in heavy bursts now, groaned quietly beside him, trying to steady herself as another wave of pain rolled through her.
“Rafe…”
“I know, baby, I know,” he spoke out to her, his voice tight with frustration. “No one’s fucking moving.”
She turned her head slowly, her hand resting on her belly as she let out another shaky breath. She could feel the tension radiating off him, could see the way his shoulders were hunched in that familiar way he got when he was stressed.
“Rafe, please… just relax,”
She said softly, though she was struggling to keep her own calm with each passing minute. It was no use because he could barely sit still anymore. Without another word, he threw the door open, slamming it behind him, and stepped out into the stagnant heat of the afternoon. Y/n’s eyes followed him through the windshield as he walked down the line of cars, frustration written in his tense shoulders. The bridge conjoining The Cut to Figure 8 stretched ahead, a long line of unmoving vehicles in both directions, but it seemed like nothing was happening. No one was getting anywhere.
Rafe walked halfway down the bridge, his eyes scanning the cars as he tried to figure out what was going on. He stopped beside a car with a window rolled down, the driver staring out at the traffic in the same defeated way everyone else was. Rafe stepped closer, his voice terse as he addressed the guy.
“What’s going on up there?”
The guy glanced at him, his face creased with annoyance. “Accident upfront and tree fell in the back. Gonna be stuck here for a while, man.”
Rafe let out a low curse, his hand instinctively rubbing the back of his neck. “Fuck.”
He stood there for a second, staring at the endless line of cars, the weight of the situation finally hitting him. They were stuck. Stuck in the one place they couldn’t afford to be, halfway in the middle of nowhere. Taking a deep breath, Rafe turned around and started walking back toward the car. The frustration was palpable in every step, but it didn’t touch his determination. Rafe opened the door to the car, his eyes already scanning the area as he made his way back toward Y/n. But the moment his gaze landed on the seat next to him, his heart skipped a beat.
She wasn’t there.
His mind raced as he blinked, looking around the car in confusion. He slammed the door shut, his breath quickening as he jogged over to the other side of the vehicle, checking the backseat and the floor. Where the hell could she have gone? His pulse started to race- this wasn’t happening.
“Y/n?” he called out, his voice frantic.
He spun around, looking down the bridge, feeling the panic rise in his chest. She couldn’t have just disappeared, she’s literally a nine month pregnant woman, she wasn’t easy to lose. His eyes locked on a figure at the end of the bridge, and his heart dropped into his stomach.
There she was.
Y/n was standing at the far side of the bridge, her body leaning slightly against the wall, one hand resting gently on her bump. She looked serene in a way, her posture relaxed even in the midst of the chaos, but Rafe could see the slight tremor in her shoulders, the way she was swaying lightly from side to side. The air around him seemed to still as he watched her, his thoughts spiraling, but then he broke into a jog, moving toward her with urgency.
“Y/n!”
He called out again, his voice rough. She didn’t seem to hear him at first, or maybe she was just focused on the feeling of her own body, her eyes unfocused as she rubbed her belly in slow, soothing circles, looking down at her hand. Rafe’s steps quickened, and when he reached her side, he gently cupped her arm, his fingers warm against her skin.
“You can’t just run off like that! Are you crazy?”
His voice was sharp, but underneath it, the worry was clear. He wanted to scold her for being out of the car, but the relief flooding him kept him from doing anything but reaching for her. Y/n raised an eyebrow, unbothered by his scolding, as she gently rubbed her belly.
“I just wanted some air, Rafey,” she replied with a calmness that made Rafe’s frustration falter for a second.
“Jesus, woman,” he muttered, shaking his head. His shoulders dropped in exasperation as he sighed. “I—I don’t know what I’d do- what if I lost you huh?”
She smiled at his concern, “I'm nine months pregnant and in labour, I doubt I would’ve gotten very far Rafe.” A soft, reassuring smile pulled at the corners of her mouth, that helped calm some of the nerves still buzzing in his chest.
“C’mon, let’s get you back to the car,”
He said, his voice softer now, his hand gently brushing the hair away from her face as he guided her back, but as they started walking back toward the car, Y/n’s eyes drifted behind him, catching something in the distance. Rafe looked over his shoulder.
“What’s wrong?”
He asked, his brow furrowing in confusion. Y/n’s gaze lingered on the gas station behind them, her fingers lightly playing with his as she spoke.
“Really want some cookies right now…”
She said, her voice full of that playful lilt. Rafe blinked, taking a moment to process what she was saying before he pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Are you serious right now?”
Y/n looked at him with a sweet, innocent expression. “Mmhmm.”
Rafe stared at her for a long moment, torn between disbelief and the need to smile. He glanced at the car, then at the standstill traffic behind him, a long sigh leaving his lips as the realization set in.
“Please?”
Y/n added, her voice soft but pleading, her hand still holding his with that familiar touch which guided his palm to rest it against her baby bump which made it hard for him to say no. Rafe’s lips curled into a reluctant smile.
“C’mon then,” he sighed, shaking his head in mock defeat. “Let’s just be quick, aight?”
And just like that, they veered off toward the gas station, Y/n’s determination to get her cookies almost making Rafe forget about the fact she was in labour, if it wasn’t for her groan every couple of minutes.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The door of the gas station swung open, the little golden bell above it ringing as soon as they stepped inside, Y/n’s breathing hitched. Rafe was right behind her, his hand resting gently on the small of her back, ready to support her. Yet the moment the door closed behind them, Y/n groaned loudly, the contraction hitting her with full force. Her breath came in quick, shallow bursts, and her hand instinctively went to her belly. A few people in the gas station glanced over, some in surprise, others in concern, but Rafe barely noticed them as he leaned closer to her, his voice low and calm.
“Let’s grab your cookies and go, baby,” he murmured, his breath brushing against her ear.
Y/n barely registered his words, still trying to push through the pain, her face scrunching in discomfort as she stepped forwards towards the sweet treat aisle. She let out another soft, pained groan as she leaned against the shelf, her hand gripping the cool metal for support.
She scanned the shelves in front of her, her eyes landing on a pack of cookies, double chocolate-chip. They weren’t Sarah’s but she guessed they would have to do. She grabbed one, then another right next to it, her body rocking slightly as she breathed heavily through the contraction.
Rafe stood behind her, watching in a mix of concern and frustration, trying to hold everything together while his brain screamed that they needed to hurry. He sighed quietly, trying to hold his patience as he watched whilst she picked up random things off the shelves- gatorade, crisps… a microwavable hot-dog for one? He furrowed his eyebrows at the girl as she shoved them all into his arms, groaning in distress, was she planning on having a picnic in the hospital?
“Is that good now?”
Rafe asked quietly, glancing at her with a raised brow as he balanced the pile of items in his arms. Y/n didn’t even look up at him. She was bent over slightly, both hands gripping onto the handles of the fridge, her body still rocking gently as the contraction slowly passed. She nodded, the sound of her breath steadying now.
“Mmhmm,”
She mumbled, barely able to focus on anything other than the sharp ache she was still feeling.
“Jesus,”
Rafe muttered under his breath, his frustration mixing with disbelief at the bizarre situation, as he moved toward the counter to pay. He tapped his foot impatiently, his eyes flicking from Y/n to the Rolex on his wrist. The seconds were ticking by, and every minute felt like an eternity. He glanced over his shoulder at the long queue in front of him, a subtle frown on his face. He hated waiting, but he hated even more that they were stuck in this gas station in the first place. Y/n was still by the fridge, her back slightly arched as she leaned against it, trying to breathe through the pain of another contraction. Her groan echoed loudly through the small shop, and Rafe felt his stomach tighten.
“Oh my Gooooooooddddd-”
The people in line ahead of him turned around at the sound, their eyes narrowing as they glanced in the direction Y/n was. Rafe clenched his jaw, his grip on the products in his arms tightening as he fought to keep his composure. Another loud groan broke through the silence, and Rafe’s patience snapped. He shot a look at the guy in front of him who seemed somewhat disturbed by the sound, his teeth gritting as he tried to stay calm but his irritation bubbled over, and he shot at him quickly, his voice sharp.
“She’s pregnant, okay?”
He snapped, his gaze hardening. The man blinked, taken aback by the harshness in Rafe’s voice. The rest of the people in line seemed to take a step back, all of them suddenly understanding the gravity of the situation. Rafe was breathing heavily now, his mind racing as the seconds dragged on, but he couldn’t look away from Y/n. She was still by the fridge, still gripped by the pain of the contractions, but somehow, there was a calmness in her, even in the middle of everything, and she was now once again rocking softly back and forth. He exhaled, trying to push down the anger and frustration bubbling up inside.
The man in front of Rafe raised his hands in surrender, his face showing quick understanding. Without another word, he grabbed his items from the counter and muttered a hurried, “Sorry,” as he quickly walked past Rafe, giving him space. Rafe, barely noticing the man’s retreat, threw the items he was holding down onto the counter with a frustrated sigh. His eyes immediately darted back to Y/n, his head swiveling as he tried to spot her over the shelves. The moment he looked away from the counter, though, a voice interrupted his frantic search.
“Rafe?”
Rafe froze. He knew that voice. He didn’t have to turn around to know who it was, but of course, he did anyway. There, standing a few feet away, was John B. He groaned inwardly. How much worse could this get? He rolled his eyes and muttered under his breath, “Pogue.” The name slipped from his lips, a reflexive reaction to the guy who always seemed to be around just when Rafe didn’t need him. John B gave him a tight-lipped smile, clearly trying to keep the peace, but Rafe could see the faint annoyance in his eyes.
“You need a bag?”
John B asked, trying to be helpful, but Rafe wasn’t in the mood for small talk.
“Uh, yeah,”
Rafe replied absently, barely glancing at John B as he spoke. His focus was entirely on trying to spot Y/n. His hands clenched the card in his hand as he tried to spot her around the shelves, his eyes scanning every inch of the small store. He didn’t even wait for John B to reply as his feet moved instinctively, carrying him away from the counter. He walked quickly down the aisles, his breath shallow as he called out her name, his voice strained with the urgency and stress building inside him.
“Y/n?”
His eyes darted from side to side, but there was no sign of her. He rounded the corner to another aisle, his heart starting to race as panic set in. He called out again, his voice louder this time.
“Y/n?!”
But there was still no response. Rafe felt the irritation crawling up his spine, seriously? Not again.
“Are you kidding me?” he muttered, his words laced with frustration as he threw a glance back at the counter. He felt like the whole world was working against him right now. Rafe’s eyes flicked back to John B, ready to ask if he’d seen Y/n, but then something caught his attention. The door near the counter, with a small blue sign W/C, was just slightly cracked open- it was enough to stop him dead in his tracks. He shot a quick glance at John B, his jaw tightening.
“Put my stuff to the side,”
Rafe said, his tone clipped, he once again didn’t wait for an answer, already moving toward the bathroom door. The women’s, men’s, and disabled toilets were all closed, but Rafe stepped closer to the disabled bathroom, he placed his ear against the door, trying to hear anything over the noise in the gas station.
It was then he heard it- a soft groan, followed by heavy breathing.
A slight whine escaped the other side of the door, and his pulse raced. Without thinking, he knocked gently against it, his voice low but full of urgency.
“Baby?”
A faint voice from within answered, weak but clear.
“Yeah?”
Rafe let out a relieved breath, his forehead resting briefly against the door, relief slowly hitting him. For a moment, he just stood there, collecting himself before he pulled back, his hand still gripping the handle of the door but it didn’t move. He could feel his heart racing in his chest, but he needed to stay calm- for her- well maybe for himself too.
“Are you okay?”
He asked, his voice soft but still edged with concern.There was a pause before her voice came through, strained but almost casual.
“Um…yeah?”
“What do you mean, um?”
Rafe’s eyebrows furrowed at her response. Another groan came from the other side of the door, followed by a sigh.
“Well, I… uh, I thought I needed to use the toilet, but now that I’m in here… I think I need to push.”
“NO!”
Rafe’s eyes widened, and before he could even think, he blurted out the word. His hands raked over his hair, the panic setting in as his mind raced.
“Baby, no- no, don’t push, okay? Please. I need you to open the door.”
He could hear her groaning again, and the sound made his chest tighten, “Y/n, I need you to open the door, okay? So we can go to the hospital. Are you listening to me, baby?”
His voice cracked with desperation as he waited for her response. Rafe took a step back from the door, rubbing a hand over his face as he tried to steady his racing thoughts. His mind was spinning in panic, but he was doing his best to keep it together. Another groan came from the other side of the door, louder this time, and Rafe’s chest tightened.
“Rafe, I can’t… I can’t open the door,” her voice cracked, strained. “I need to push.”
His breath hitched, and he placed a hand against the door, his grip tightening. “Okay, okay. It’s okay.” His voice was soft but desperate.
“I’m gonna come in, yeah?”
There was a brief silence before her voice came through again, strained but barely audible.
“Yeah.”
The word was cut off by another loud groan, and the sound sent a jolt of panic through Rafe’s veins. Rafe’s patience snapped. Without a second thought, he barreled back to the counter, his voice urgent as he slammed his palm onto the surface.
“I need the key to the toilets Y/n is stuck in the disabled one.”
His words came out in a rush, and John B didn’t hesitate. His brows furrowed in concern, and he quickly reached under the counter, pulling out multiple sets of keys before he found the right one.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I got it.”
He gripped them in his hand as he looked at Rafe, he’s never seen the brunette so worried. “Sorry,” John B muttered to the guy on the other side of the counter as he quickly stood up, walking around the register. Rafe was ready to go straight back to Y/n when suddenly, John B called out.
“JJ!”
Rafe froze for a split second. Not him too. He shook his head in disbelief. What had he done to deserve this? He knew he had been a dick to so many people, for so many years, but was this really the punishment he deserved. JJ, the last person Rafe wanted to deal with, sauntered up to the counter with his signature blonde hair and cocky grin, with a zoot tucked behind his ear.
“Sup?” he asked, sounding entirely too carefree for the situation.
“Need you to take over the counter for a bit,”
John B said, his voice tight with urgency. JJ nodded lazily, unconcerned, “Mkay, my man,” he said, easily slipping into the role. John B turned back to Rafe, and the Cameron boy grabbed his arm.
“Let’s go.”
They both moved toward the corridor with all the bathrooms, John B crouched in front of the disabled toilet door, the key in his hand as he started to unlock it. Rafe stood by him, his muscles tense, feeling like he could finally somewhat breathe again now that they were this close. They were about to get Y/n out, and finally going to leave this godforsaken place.
“Don’t worry, man,” John B said, trying to reassure him as he worked the key into the lock. “We’re gonna get her out of there.”
But then, there was a loud snapping sound. Both of them froze.
Rafe’s stomach dropped.
“What? What is it?”
His voice was sharp, fear creeping in. John B hesitated, his face a mixture of guilt and disbelief. “Well… um… the key broke.”
Rafe blinked in stunned silence. “What? Speak up!”
John B looked back at him, the words tumbling out quickly. “The key broke.”
Rafe’s frustration hit a boiling point, his voice cracking with anger as he slammed his hand against the wall angrily.
“What the fuck do you mean, you broke the key?!”
“I’m sorry! It was an accident, alright?” John B’s hands shot up in defense.
Rafe’s eyes went wide. “How the hell do you fuck up opening a door? Are you fucking serious right now!?”
Before John B could answer, they both heard a loud voice from the other side of the room. “Heyyy, what’s going on here? What’s all the yelling for?” Rafe’s head snapped toward the voice. He could feel his blood boil. Of course. It was JJ. Of course it was. John B rolled his eyes.
“Y/n’s stuck in the toilet, and I broke the key-”
Then, a loud, strained groan from the other side of the door cut him off. Y/n’s voice echoed out, desperate and pained.
“Fuuuucckkkk,”
Rafe slammed his hand against the door, his voice softer but filled with worry. “Baby, you okay?” There was a brief pause before she answered.
“Yeah, just… fuuuuuuck…”
“Jesus,” Rafe muttered, running his hands through his hair, trying to keep it together. John B glanced at him.
“What was that?”
Rafe’s breath quickened, his anxiety rising again as he looked down to the door handle of the door, the snapped metal now lodging into the keyhole.
“She’s in labor.”
JJ blinked, processing that. “What the fuck?”
“And now she’s fucking stuck in there… because of you!” Rafe growled, his eyes narrowing in fury. “I swear to god-”
But before Rafe could say anything more, JJ was already moving. He pushed past both of them, walking straight up to the door. Rafe stared at him, scoffing in disbelief. JJ turned to face the door, knuckles knocking against the wood in a rhythmic pattern. He called out, looking toward the door,
“Hey sunshine,”
“JJ?”
“Yeah, yeah,” JJ answered as he pulled his cap off and readjusted his hair, putting it back on backwards. “I need you to take a step away from the door.”
“What the hell are you doing?”
Rafe’s confusion was evident, his brow furrowed. JJ didn’t respond. He kicked the door hard, and the force of it echoed in the space, making Rafe’s heart skip a beat as he realised what the boy was trying to do.
“Wait!”
He called out as he rushed forward, his voice frantic as he called out to Y/n.
“Y/n, I need you to step back from the door, yeah?”
“I just told her that.”
JJ spoke back to the boy, hands out in the air in confusion at his actions. Rafe rolled his eye’s as he spoke back so Y/n couldn’t hear,
“She’s a stubborn pregnant woman, obviously she’s not going to listen to you.”
JJ gave him a look before shrugging his shoulders, “touché.” From the other side, her breath was labored, each inhale shaky. “Ughh… okay,” she responded weakly, and there was a faint sound of movement behind the door.
“Have you done that for me, Y/n?”
Rafe’s voice was strained, as if he was holding onto his patience by a thread. Another soft “yeah” came from her, and he stepped back, taking a deep breath to calm himself. Without saying another word, Rafe squared his shoulders. The frustration of the past few minutes boiled over. He looked at the door one last time and, without hesitation, launched his foot into it with everything he had. The sound of his kick reverberated through the small space, but the door didn’t budge. John B stepped forward, shaking his head in skepticism, but nevertheless he kicked the door next, his hit less forceful than Rafe’s but still forcefull.
Nothing.
JJ followed suit, throwing his foot at the door, his kick full of impatience.
Still nothing.
Rafe watched them, frustration building in his chest. “Get out of my way,” he muttered through gritted teeth. Without another word, he ripped his jacket off in a quick motion, tossing it aside as he stepped forward with sheer determination. This time, he didn’t just kick. He slammed his foot into the door again and again, each strike more powerful than the last, the force of his anger and desperation driving him. Finally, with one last powerful kick, the door swung open, the sound echoing loudly in the small hallways to the toilets.
Rafe rushed in, his breath still heavy from the effort of kicking the door in. His eyes darted across the cramped space until he found Y/n. She was sitting there, slumped against the toilet, arm supporting herself on the sink next to her as she sat leant over, her face flushed with sweat, her breath coming in quick, shallow gasps.
“Sweet girl,” Rafe murmured, his voice barely above a whisper as he dropped to his knees in front of her. His hands instinctively cupped her cheeks, his fingers trembling slightly.
“Are you okay? C’mon, let’s get you to the hospital, yeah?”
Y/n’s eyes were wide, and her grip tightened around his wrist. “I can’t… I can’t, Rafe,” she gasped, her voice a strained, breathless whimper.
“I need to push, Rafe… I can’t—”
The words trailed off as another wave of contraction hit her, causing her body to tense up. Rafe’s heart dropped in his chest. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. He’d promised her he’d make sure everything was smooth, that she’d be in a safe, controlled place when the baby came. This definitely wasn’t how he’d envisioned the birth of his first child to happen.
“Okay, it’s okay-”
He whispered, his hand brushing the small strands of damp hair away from her flushed, sweaty face. He gave her a soft, reassuring smile, even though inside, panic clawed at him.
“-I’m here now, yeah? C’mon, let’s get you comfortable.”
And as he gently helped her try to shift, he held her gaze, his own filled with worry and tenderness. He wasn’t sure how things would play out from here, but he knew one thing- he was going to make it work.
The moment John B and JJ stepped through the door coming back from locking up the door of the small gas station shop, they froze. Their eyes locked on Y/n, who was still leaning against the sink, her breathing ragged and uneven, sweat dripping down her face. JJ’s eyes widened in realization, his mouth falling open.
“Oh shit,” he muttered, his voice a mixture of disbelief and concern.
“This is like for real- she’s in labor… like it’s legit-”
Rafe didn’t even look at them as he snapped into action, the blonde boys rambles falling on deaf ears. His focus was solely on Y/n, his voice low and strained.
“Go get some towels, some water- anything.”
They both stared at him motionless as they took in the scene of the Kook who’d tormented them for so many years, gently help the girl down to a sitting position on the floor.
“NOW!”
He barked out. John B and JJ scrambled out of the bathroom, their feet clattering as they bumped into each other in their rush to get the supplies. They didn’t say anything, just focused on finding whatever they could to help in their panic. Rafe turned back to Y/n, his face softening despite the storm of anxiety in his chest.
“C’mon, let me help you.”
He murmured, his hands gently gripping her arms as he helped her pull down her sweatpants, hands lovingly rubbing against her calves in an attempt to comfort her. Y/n hummed out slightly, her uneasiness palpable, but as another contraction hit, she winced, her face contorting in pain. Rafe’s brows furrowed with concern, his heart aching for her.
“I know, baby, I know. Just breathe. We’re gonna get through this, okay?”
And just as she nodded, another wave of pain hit, and Rafe exhaled in frustration, running a hand over his hair. “Fuck me,” he muttered under his breath, barely able to contain the rush of panic rising inside him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The gas station bathroom looked nothing like it had before. Blankets and towels were scattered across the floor beneath Y/n, cushioning her knees as she rocked back and forth, panting through each wave of pain. Bottles of water and crumpled packaging littered the corners- whatever JJ and John B had managed to grab in their scramble. Y/n’s skin glistened with sweat, strands of hair clinging to her flushed face. She reached up with trembling hands, tugging at her top, desperate to get it off. The sticky fabric clung to her skin, and she let out a frustrated groan.
"Here, baby, let me—" Rafe’s voice cut off as his phone buzzed against his ear, someone's voice being heard from the other side. He was crouched down, gripping the phone so tightly his knuckles turned white.
"Yeah, okay, yeah—she's on the floor, towels everywhere. No, the hospital’s blocked off! We're stuck. I've just told you this, are you even listening to me!"
His voice cracked, running high with panic. John B sat awkwardly near Y/n’s head, trying to offer some sort of comfort. Her hand suddenly shot out, fingers digging painfully into his arm. His breath hitched, tears stinging his eyes. He muttered, voice shaky,
"Shit- okay, okay, you're okay,"
Y/n barely managed to choke out, "Sorry," between laboured breaths as her nails digged into his skin. John B’s voice squeaked,
"It's fine! Totally fine!"
His face twisted in pain, but he didn’t dare pull away. JJ hovered uselessly in the doorway, wide-eyed and wringing his hands feeling a little awkward with the situation at hand.
“Uh… y’all need anything else? Snacks? Beer? No—okay, cool.”
Rafe paced in a tight circle before crouching behind Y/n again, gripping the phone. The nurse’s voice was brisk but calm as she spoke into his ear,“Can you see the baby’s head, sir?”
Rafe swallowed hard, leaning over for a quick glance. His face was drained of all colour.
“Uh… yeah I can see the head.”
Y/n’s head snapped up. "What?! What do you mean you can see it?!"
Rafe’s eyes were wide, panic rising in his throat as the nurse’s voice cut through the phone, steady and firm. “Listen to me carefully. That means she’s ready to push. You need to place your hand firmly against the baby’s head to guide it out slowly. If it comes too fast, there’s a risk of decapitation.”
Rafe froze. His mouth opened, but nothing came out. He stared at Y/n, blinking rapidly, his mind spiralling. His brain was screaming at him to move, to do something, but fear was holding him in place, like a heavy weight on his chest. He wasn’t prepared for this. He had no idea what to do, only that he couldn’t screw this up.
“Hello? Sir? Are you still there? Is everything okay?”
He cleared his throat, forcing the words out.
"Yeah—yeah, I’m here."
Rafe squeezed his eyes shut, dragging a shaky hand down his face, his fingers briefly pressing into his eye’s. He needed to keep it together, but every second felt heavier than the last. He sucked in a breath, grounding himself before snapping his head up.
“JJ! Get over here and hold this fucking phone!”
JJ shuffled forward, noticeably hesitant, eyes fixed awkwardly on the wall as he stood beside Rafe, who held the phone out for the boy slightly. However, as the blond boy refused to look down Rafe remained with his hand held out, causing him to look away from Y/n and see the boy still staring straight ahead at the wall. Rafe stared at him, disbelief simmering under his skin.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
“Bro?”
John B glanced over from where he was crouched by Y/n’s head, frowning. JJ muttered under his breath, barely audible. Rafe’s patience snapped.
“What!?”
“Listen, your girl is literally naked right there, man! I don’t wanna look- it’s disrespectful!”
JJ winced, shoulders tensing. Rafe’s jaw clenched so hard it hurt. His fists balled at his sides, knuckles white. Every muscle in his body screamed to just hit him, to shake the stupidity right out of him. He could see himself doing it- just one solid punch. But instead, Rafe forced himself to take a breath, exhaling hard through his nose. He dragged a hand roughly over his face once again, muttering, “Jesus Christ-”
Y/n let out a sharp, pained groan, her voice cracking.
“JJ, I don’t care! Just help him- oh SHIIIIIIT!”
Her scream cut through the room like a knife, yanking everyone’s attention back to reality. JJ’s eyes shot wide.
“Okay! Okay! If you insist-”
He didn’t even get the words out before Rafe shoved the phone- now on speaker- hard into his chest. JJ scrambled to steady it, and as his eyes flicked down, his face drained of colour as he looked at Y/n. The very top of the baby’s head was there.
“Holy shit, Y/n there’s like a fucking baby in your pussy-”
“SHUT THE FUCK UP, JJ!”
Y/n’s scream was sharp and furious, echoing in the cramped space. JJ jumped, gripping the phone like it might explode.
“Okay! Sorry! Jesus!”
His voice cracked as he lifted the phone so they could hear it if the nurse spoke out. Rafe knelt back down behind Y/n, and he swallowed hard, as he felt the slick warmth of Y/n's skin under his palm, pressing his hand gently but firmly against the top of the baby’s head, just like the nurse had told him. His other hand rubbed slow, steady circles along the curve of her trembling back, grounding her as best he could. His heart was thundering in his chest, but he forced his voice to stay calm, soft- for her.
“Okay, sweet girl,” he murmured, “I need you to listen to me, yeah?”
Y/n’s head lolled against her arm, sweat-damp hair clinging to her flushed face as she let out a shaky breath. His voice firmed, but it was still gentle, coaxing. His hand didn’t stop moving on her back.
“You’re doing so good, baby. So fucking good. But I really, really need you to push on the next contraction, alright?”
Her glassy eyes flickered to his, searching, scared. He gave her the smallest, crooked smile despite the panic clawing at him.
“We’re so close, yeah? You’re so strong. Just one big push for me, okay?”
Y/n’s fingers dug into the blankets beneath her, knuckles white. She gave a slight, barely-there nod.
“That’s my girl,” his hand pressed steady against the baby’s head, the other still rubbing soothingly along her back, “Next one, baby. We’re gonna meet our little Cameron. You’ve got this.”
Y/n clenched her jaw, groaning through another push, but Rafe could feel it- nothing was changing. He leaned back slightly, panic creeping into his features, and turned towards the phone in JJ’s grip.
“I—nothing’s happening,” he said quickly, his voice strained, eyes darting from the phone to Y/n’s hunched figure. “What’s going on? Why isn’t the baby moving?”
The nurse’s voice came through, calm but firm. “She’s not pushing hard enough. You need to get the baby out soon, Mr Cameron. The longer the baby stays in the birth canal, the more risk there is of oxygen deprivation.”
Fuck. Rafe’s heart plummeted at the words, and he felt his hand slip slightly against Y/n’s damp skin. He sucked in a sharp breath, his lips parting to respond, but before he could, a faint sound drew his attention.
“Rafe…”
It was John B, his voice hesitant, almost soft. He was kneeling at Y/n’s side, her trembling fingers curled weakly around his forearm.
“Rafe, man… I think you need to talk to her…”
He said quietly, glancing down at the way Y/n’s grip seemed to falter, her breaths shallow and uneven. Rafe swallowed hard, his chest tightening at the sight of her pain and exhaustion. God, she wasn’t even on any painkillers, he didn’t want to imagine how she felt right now. His eyes darted between Y/n and the phone before he scrubbed a hand over his buzzed hair, frustration and fear mixing in his expression. John B slowly rose to his feet, giving Y/n’s hand a small squeeze before letting go. He turned to Rafe who had also risen, his face softer than it usually was when the two of them interacted.
“You heard what she said,” Rafe said slowly, voice tight.
John B met his eyes and gave a small, steady nod. “Yeah. I heard.”
Without warning, Rafe’s hand shot out and fisted the front of John B’s shirt, yanking him in close, nose to nose. His grip was iron, knuckles white.
“You hurt my child…” Rafe’s voice dropped to a dangerous whisper, his blue eyes blazing, “…I’ll kill you. Is that clear, John B?”
John B didn’t flinch, didn’t fight back. He just stared at Rafe, steady and calm. Because for the first time, he wasn’t seeing Rafe Cameron the hotheaded psycho- he was seeing a terrified father on the edge.
“Yeah,” John B said quietly, voice even. “Crystal.”
Rafe’s eyes flicked over his face, searching for any sign of weakness, but all he saw was understanding. He slowly uncurled his fingers, shoving John B back slightly. Without another word, they switched places. John B moved towards the phone, kneeling behind Y/n and Rafe dropped to his knees beside her, his hands instantly reaching for hers. One hand cradled the back of her head, fingers threading through her own holding her hand, while the other gently rubbed along her back in slow, grounding circles.
“Hey, hey, baby, look at me,”
He murmured, his voice softer now, but the cracks of fear still clung to the edges. Y/n barely lifted her head, her body trembling.
“Rafe… I can’t,” she whispered, her voice thin and shaky, “I’m so tired-”
Rafe’s chest tightened, his throat burning. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. Not like this. Not here in this crappy gas station bathroom.
“I know, sweet girl… I know,” he breathed, pressing his forehead against hers for a moment. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t want this for you.”
Y/n shook her head faintly, her grip on his wrist weakening.
“No, baby, listen to me.”
Rafe cupped her face, his thumbs brushing the sweat from her cheeks. His own eyes were glassy now, but his voice steadied. “I need you to be strong for me now, yeah? Just a little longer. You can do this. You’re so close.”
She blinked at him, breath shaky, and he leaned in closer, his nose brushing against hers.
“Please, baby. For me. For our baby.”
Y/n swallowed hard, a tear slipping down her cheek, but she gave him the faintest nod.
“That’s it,” he whispered, kissing her forehead as his thumb came out to wipe her cheek free of the salty water..
“That’s my girl.”
Y/n let out a guttural groan as she pushed with everything she had on her next contraction, her entire body trembling under the effort. Rafe was right beside her, one hand braced on her back, the other still gently cupping her hand, which she gripped ferociously.
“Oh my God- the head’s out!”
John B shouted, voice laced with disbelief and panic. He was kneeld awkwardly, eyes wide as he stared down. JJ was next to him, his knees slipping slightly on the layered towels.
“Holy shit, man, I see it! Okay, okay, you’re so close, Y/n!” His voice was high with adrenaline, but there was something soft in it, too. “Come on, mama, just a little more, you’re about to meet your baby!”
Rafe tightened his grip on Y/n’s shoulder, leaning in close, his breath shaky. “Sweet girl, we’re right there, yeah? One more push. You’ve got this.”
The nurse crackled through the phone still in JJ’s shaky grip, “Support the baby’s head! Careful, slow—don’t let it drop!” JJ scrambled, hands trembling as he carefully cupped the tiny, slick head, his face frozen in panic. “Okay, okay, I got it—I got it! Oh my God, John B, help me!” John B, swallowing his own panic, steadied JJ’s hands, both of them crouched and bracing themselves.
“Y/n, baby, one more. Just one more push,”
Rafe whispered, voice breaking but full of determination. Y/n let out a ragged sob, gripping Rafe’s arm like a lifeline, her face buried into his neck. She drew in a shaking breath and bore down, crying out as her body strained.
“There we go!” John B’s voice cracked with disbelief. “The shoulders are coming!” JJ’s eyes were wide, hands gently guiding the tiny body. Rafe’s hand slid to her damp cheek, brushing her hair back.
“That’s it, baby. That’s it.”
And in the next moment, the baby slipped free into JJ and John B’s waiting hands, their eyes wide with shock and awe. For a moment, the entire room was still. Breathless. Then, the silence shattered. A sharp, piercing wail filled the air—raw, loud, and alive.
The baby was crying.
“Oh, that’s wonderful!” the nurse’s voice crackled through the phone, filled with warmth. “That’s exactly what we want to hear, means their airways are clear- congratulations!” the nurse’s voice came through, vibrating with relief.
Y/n’s body sagged with relief, sobs breaking free as she wept, trembling from exhaustion and overwhelming joy. Rafe let out a shaky breath he hadn’t even realised he was holding. His chest tightened, and his eyes, glossed over, locked on Y/n, a tear sliding down his cheek. “Oh, sweet girl…” His voice was raw as he leaned in, cupping her tear-streaked face.
“I’m so proud of you. You hear that?”
He whispered, pressing his forehead to hers, voice breaking. “That’s our baby Y/n, you did that.” He pressed soft, lingering kisses to her forehead, his arms holding her close. Y/n’s breath hitched, tears slipping freely. Her voice was barely more than a whisper.
“Is it… is it a boy or a girl?”
John B, though still emotional, took the lead as he carefully placed his hands on the baby’s tiny chest, rubbing gently as the nurse instructed to ensure air was circulating properly. His movements instinctual despite the fear and emotions tangled in his chest.
“It’s a girl.”
A fragile, joyful sob escaped Y/n’s lips, her hand flying to her mouth. The nurse’s voice crackled through the phone, her tone calm and clear. “Alright, now I need you to swaddle the baby tightly, make sure she doesn’t get cold.”
JJ moved quickly, wrapping the baby snugly in the towel, his hands surprisingly gentle despite the chaos unfolding around them. The nurse continued as they worked on the little being amongst the towels. “And how’s mom? Make sure she’s covered up too, don’t want her getting cold either.”
John B, standing up from his kneeling position, grabbed a second blanket and draped it over Y/n, making sure it covered her body as he gently rubbed her back. “Good job, Y/n. You’re amazing.” Never in a million years did he think when he got a job at the gas station he would be helping to deliver his brother in law’s baby. Y/n, leaning heavily against Rafe, gave him a small, exhausted smile.
The nurse’s voice came through again, more reassuring this time. “Now, I need you to pass the baby to mum. Be gentle, don’t pull on the umbilical cord. The ambulance is just two minutes away.”
Rafe, still crouched behind Y/n, gently helped her lean back against his chest . His arms were wrapped securely around her, as he supported her with a steady, comforting presence. He gently adjusted her position, making sure her back was firmly against his chest, and spoke softly, his voice laced with concern,
“You okay, baby?”
Y/n hummed softly, her breath shallow as she nodded faintly, exhaustion clouding her features. She leaned back further into him, her body still trembling, but her grip on her blanket was firm. Rafe gave her a soft kiss on the side of her head, his hands gently rubbing her arm in soothing circles. JJ gently cradled the newborn, his hands trembling slightly from the weight of the moment.
“Well done sunshine.”
He said softly, his voice full of emotion as he carefully passed the baby to Y/n. With shaky hands, Y/n cradled the baby to her chest, her breath catching in her throat as she looked down at the sweet, tiny face. Tears welled up in her eyes, the overwhelming joy of finally holding her daughter too much to contain. She let out a shaky sob, her heart swelling with emotion. Rafe leaned in close, his voice soft as he spoke,
“It’s okay, we’ve got her now, yeah?”
He wrapped his arms around Y/n from behind, his chin resting gently on her shoulder, offering her all the reassurance she needed. Y/n barely heard him though, her attention entirely on the little life in her arms. She watched as he ran a trembling finger over the baby’s cheek, the softness of his daughter's skin pulling at his heartstrings.
“She looks just like you, Rafey”
Y/n murmured, her voice full of awe. Rafe let out an emotional laugh, a tear slipping from his eye as he leaned in to kiss Y/n’s forehead, feeling completely overwhelmed by the moment. Y/n turned her head to look at him, and he leaned forward slightly to press his forehead gently against hers, their breaths mingling in the quiet, sacred moment. After a moment of silence, he kissed her softly, his lips lingering for just a second. With glossy eyes, he whispered,
“Thank you for giving us our sweet girl.”
Y/n smiled, her heart full as she leaned her head against his, both of them looking down at their peaceful, sleeping baby in her arms. Although baby Cameron was born in a gas station on the cut, in the hands of two Pogues who they didn't always get along with, and not in the prestigious private suite of the hospital they had planned to give birth in originally, they wouldn’t have had it any other way.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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