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reidmania · 3 months ago

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loml | spencer reid

summary; after you and spencer reunite at JJ’s wedding after being broken up for two years, you are quick to realise it will never be the same as it was, you’re the love of his life, and he is the loss of yours.

warnings; exes to not lovers but something!! no happy ending, angst, fem reader, season 7 spence, mentions of arguments, falling back into feelings because its familiar, they are so in love, jj’s childhood friend!reader, reader wears a dress, no use of y/n cus ew, reader has long enough hair to have up, they are so meant to be its not even funny, everyone can see it. they are perfect for each other TIME IS MEAN!!!

an; hey this was ur fault ! also i made so much shit up abt the wedding because i cbf rewatching that ep tbh 🥰🥰

‘what a valiant roar, what a bland goodbye’ is this fic

also this was written in an hour and im sick and im pretty sure its horrible and doesn’t make sense but thats so okay!! lmk if u want a part two!! they deserve better pls want a part two!!

‘Who's gonna stop us from waltzing back into rekindled flames? If we know the steps anyway. we embroidered the memories, of the time I was away, stitching, "We were just kids, babe", I said, "I don't mind, it takes time" I thought I was better safe than starry-eyed. I felt aglow like this, never before and never since. if you know it in one glimpse, it's legendary. you and I go from one kiss to gettin married. still alive, killing time at the cemetery, never quite buried. in your suit and tie, in the nick of time. you lowdown boy, you stand up guy, holy ghost, you told me I'm, the love of your life’

You remembered it all too well.

The lights gleamed around the garden, there was some background music playing, quietly in the distance, probably louder for the people surrounding it. Whereas you had found yourself settled in a quieter corner of the beautifully set garden. The ceremony was beautiful, you sat through and tried to avoid shedding tears seeing someone so important so happy.

You were alone, watching the guests of the wedding dance when you felt the presence behind you. The familiar cologne filled your senses in a way that made your head spin and chest ache with familiarity and overwhelming comfort. Two years since you and smelt the cologne and it still had the same effect on you.

You remembered the conversation as if it was a broken record playing on repeat in your mind. How your head turned towards him and the smile lit up his face. Its not like you had ended on bad terms — not at all. It was a mutual agreement to break up all those years ago. You were just at two different points in your lives and it was beginning to clash.

His voice was gentle when he said your name. You had seen him around earlier, your heart had skipped a beat and your stomach filled with familiar butterflies, but you didn’t approach him. Now here he was, standing in front of you, saying your name as if no time had passed at all.

You repeated his name back, a smile on your face as you stood up from the white garden chair that had been delicately placed around the table. His arms enveloped you almost as soon as you were standing. You could recall the way they felt, safe, secure and the exact same as they had two years beforehand.

“You look great” He had mumbled into your hair, his hands pressing against the small of your back, furthering your presence against him, trailing of the silk of the floor length dress you had worn, face buried into your hair as if he had been waiting his entire life for this moment.

Your hands rested on the back of either of his shoulders, head resting against the front of his shoulder. You were sure he could feel the small breath of air you let out against his neck before you pulled yourself away from the hug. “So do you. It’s been so long.” You had said, eyes trailing over his face, taking in every noticeable change since the last time you had seen him.

“Too long.” He agreed, eyes mirroring yours as they danced along your features, as if he was committing it to memory.

The words had made your chest tighten and warm all at once. It wasn’t long before you were sitting at an empty table, catching up. You told him about everything that had changed in your time apart as did you. And then the topic swiftly changed as the two of you danced along fond memories of your years spent together.

“We were so young” He mumbled after you had recalled a specific memory of the two of you having pillow fights on late Saturday nights, a small thing that became a common ritual every night Spencer had been home on a Saturday. Your smiled had widened at his words — although only two years ago the maturity between you both and grown massively.

He added quickly as he reached out to take your hand, a familiar movement you had been neglected of the last two years. “I was too young, immature.. You always deserved more than what I could’ve given you then.” His words were sweet and sincere yet you begged to differ.

“I think that was the happiest i’ve ever been.” You recalled. Everyday spent with Spencer was a memory you kept safe in a secure part of your mind. You looked back at photos from that time, there was a certain gleam in your eye, one that wasn’t found in any photo recently, despite being content with your place in life currently.

Being with Spencer was a sort of fever dream, a sort of perfect you’d only find in a film or a romance novel, things like falling asleep while he read to you, or slow dancing in the dim moon light that gleamed through the kitchen window at late hours, small love notes left around the house, that was something that you failed to find anywhere else — not for a lack of looking.

His eyes stayed on yours, his skin glowing under the warmed yellow lighting of the fairy lights that dazzled the garden with their gleam, his eyes holding a certain sparkle you could only describe as nostalgia. “Me too.” He had said, eyes dropping from yours to your hand in his.

You didn’t know what to say. Your heart soared with the warmth from his touch, your mind fogging from any sense of realism, until your thumb traced his knuckles and it lacked the familiarity everything else did. His hands had grown rougher, more callous although the same soft in your touch.

“Dance with me?” He offered, eyes lifting to meet yours again. Voice gentle and barely above a whisper as if he was scared you would reject him, maybe even more scared you would accept and it wouldn’t be the same as it was.

You nodded, accepting anyways.

His hands dragged yours to the crowd of other people dancing. His hands moved to wrap gently around your waist, your arms slinging over his shoulders to wrap around his neck as his arms pulled you in close. Chest to chest. Heart to heart.

The music fell into background noise as your focus was pulled instead to the sound of his gentle breathing, and slow heartbeat as his head rested atop of yours that was press into his shoulder. You fell into step as if no time had passed at all, you swayed gently in his arms.

“I’ve missed you.” His words came out as a whisper and your heart pulled. This was wrong, you could feel it in your stomach yet the thought was quickly replaced by the feeling of home that buried itself in your ribcage as his hands trailed gently up and down your sides in a soothing familiar motion.

You wanted to reply and tell him you had missed him too, that every night you laid in bed and recalled every last moment between you too. How people from your past still asked about him, how their faces fell when you laughed and admitted you were no longer together.

You wanted to tell him that in the time that had passed you had still the framed photos in a box under your bed, how you hadn’t changed a single detail in your apartment just in case one day he came over. You wanted it to be familiar.

It was, This was. Everything about Spencer was familiar and it was safe.

“I think we needed the time.” You exhaled out, honestly. Maybe if you were to try again now it would end up differently. Maybe he was right in what he said earlier — you were both too immature to handle the intensity of the love the streamed between you. The pull that seemed magnetic the minute your eyes laid on his.

He hummed gently as his arms stopped their movements on your side and instead rewrapped themselves around your waist, dancing down your back, holding you close as he inhaled your scent. This was all he ever wanted.

“Everyone still tells me I was a fool for letting you go, that I was meant to be with you. I think they were right.” He mumbled out into your hair. You remembered being told the same thing. You remembered your friends telling you how sorry they were and how they could have never imagined you and Spencer ever breaking up, ‘you guys were the great love story’ they had rambled.

You shook your head against his shoulder. It was meant to happen like that. Maybe this was all you would ever be. Meant to happen, but never actually happening.

“Maybe” You exhaled, unable to bring yourself to say more as you relished in the moment. The distance of the last two years between you both seemed to disappear as your focus remained on everything that was the same.

The difference, he was different, you were different. Your likes and dislikes had changed, as you assumed his. How if you were to try again you would have to relearn one another. Everything he once knew about you was a distant memory, a familiar reminder of what had once been. Of what was once lost.

His lips pressed against the side of your head and your heart pressed against your chest uncomfortably as your heart beat increased. His hands left a burning trail on your skin even over the fabric of your dress. It was too similar, and too different all at once.

The love between you and Spencer was loud. You loved each other loudly. It was never meant to be a secret, everyone saw it in the shared glances, even now, in the way his touch was significantly gentler with you than anyone else, how your body relaxed in his grasp.

The love between you was loudest in the silence.

Everyone could see it.

Your mind burnt with the memory of the night you broke up, he brought the idea of a breakup up. He suggested it and you whole heartedly agreed. Not for a lack of love. You both mutually expressed the amount of love you had for each other throughout the entire conversation. It just wasn’t the right time. The conversation happened, he mumbled out ‘don’t be a stranger’ as he kissed your forehead in the doorway of your home.

You had let out a wet chuckle as his fingers brushed away the tears that stained your cheeks, similar ones on his own. You agreed, he mumbled an I love you, and then a ‘ill see you soon’

And you hadn’t seen him since.

Until now.

You hadn’t been bitter about it. You were partially glad you hadn’t seen him. You knew if given the chance in those two years you would’ve ran back to him in an instant. Told him how you were sure your heart hadn’t been beating regularly without him by your side, then listened to him ramble about the science of broken heart syndrome as you pressed soft kisses against every inch of his face.

“Whats going on in your pretty head?” He asked. You let out a laugh at his sweet words. The sentence something he had used numerous times throughout the years of your relationship whenever you found yourself lost in thought.

Everything had changed, yet stayed the exact same.

“I don’t think I’ll ever move on from us.” You mumbled out honestly. The words a weight on your chest, a truth that had been buried down your throat you failed to admit to anyone else.

His touch provided a specific burn against your skin, his voice playing an irreplaceable melody in your mind, his sweet words and whispered nothings written on every butterfly that filled your stomach, his eyes unparalleled to another. the feeling in your chest that only he could arise. the smile on your face only he could provide, the gleam in your eyes only present when he was too.

He had left a mark on you, your relationship had left you in a daze for the last two years without you even realising it. nothing would provide the same fulfilment as being by his side did.

Every feeling with him had been new and original, a sort of happiness you didn’t know was humanly possible. You were pretty sure he provided you with a dangerous amount of dopamine, an addictive amount.

If Spencer was a drug, then you had been going through withdrawals for years.

“I know I will never move on from us” His admission carried a different weight than yours did. Despite being the same the meaning was different.

it left your heart heavy and regret flowering in your chest.

“I should go, I told my roommate i’d be home early.” You whispered out, against the soft fabric of his suit jacket. His arms tightened around you momentarily before releasing his hold on you.

His eyes were lidded when he looked down at your face, your arms fell from his shoulders and your stomach twisted at the familiarity of the loss of his touch.

“Don’t be a stranger.” He said, voice quiet, meaningful and honest and you felt an overwhelming urge to vomit. Everything left unsaid over the last two years coming up in the back of your throat but remaining unsaid.

“I won’t.” You promised.

His lips pressed against your forehead as he squeezed your waist gently, before letting you go.

The movement was natural, like you would spend every day of the rest of your life doing it. as if you would wake up in the morning tangled a-mess in his arms, the you would find yourself a giggling mess during a pillow fight on an upcoming Saturday night. As if you were finally going to happen.

You didn’t see him again after you left that night.

You burnt with the memory of his arms and his lips against your skin that night for the next years of your life.

For a love so loud everything seemed so quiet. You recalled the goodbye between you two that seemed so peaceful and tame, an understatement of the love that blossomed when in one another’s presence.

An invalidation of everything he had made you feel.

For a great love story, someone had to experience a great loss.

And he was yours.

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punkshort · 5 months ago

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Roommates | 7. jack and jill

Pairing: pornstar!joel x f!reader

Chapter Summary: You and Joel organize Tommy and Maria's bachelor and bachelorette party together, making it the first time you've spoken to each other since you moved out.

Chapter Warnings: language, discussions revolving mental health and therapy, insecurity issues, anxiety, angst, alcohol and food consumption, idiots in love but won't admit it, cigarette use, one bed couch trope

WC: 6.8K

Series Masterlist

Five Months Later

Everything was fine. Everything was going to be fine. There was no need to be nervous.

Okay, so you were going back to the house for the very first time since you moved out. You didn't count the time last month when you idled in the driveway in your car, waiting to pick Maria up to go to her dress fitting. You avoided it as much as you could, but eventually she asked you to come over to help with wedding planning. She wanted to look over the seating chart and because it was so big and she insisted on making a physical floor plan instead of a digital one, she guilted you into coming to the house.

You didn't have the nerve to ask if Joel would be there, but when you pulled up to the house, your stomach doing cartwheels and threatening to bring up your breakfast, Joel's truck was gone.

Relief and disappointment flooded you all at once.

When you approached the front door, your hand hovered over the doorknob. Should you knock? Do you just walk in? You stood there a minute too long, going back and forth, undecided, until the door swung open with Maria standing on the other side.

"What are you doing?"

"I don't know."

She rolled her eyes and opened the door wider. "Don't be weird," she told you as you slid past her into the familiar hall to kick off your sneakers.

Although the house was generally the same, it felt different now.

"Is anyone home?" you asked timidly as you followed her into the kitchen to grab some drinks.

"Tommy's got work," she replied, pulling a bottle of wine from the fridge. You took a deep breath and inwardly groaned. She was really going to make you work for it.

"And... Joel?"

She stopped and looked at you like you were speaking another language. "Have you still not spoken to him?"

You chewed on your lower lip and her shoulders sagged.

"C'mon, you promised us you would work things out before you left."

"We will! I've just been... busy, I guess."

"It's been months. You need to talk to him," she scolded, brushing past you as she headed to the dining room table where her seating chart was all spread out. "We're getting close to the big day and you guys need to plan our Jack and Jill."

You cocked an eyebrow at her and took the glass she extended your way. "Jack and Jill?"

"Yeah, y'know, where the bachelor and bachelorette parties join into one big party?" You must have looked confused because she frowned and popped her hand on her hip. "I mentioned this three months ago."

"I know, I know, I just forgot."

"You need to get your shit together. You're my maid of honor! I need you."

"I will, I promise," you said firmly, taking a sip of wine. "I'll text him tomorrow and I'll set something up so we can start planning."

She eyed you up for a moment before dropping into a chair with a sigh. "Thanks. Sorry, I know this is tough but you guys gotta work things out. You're both too important to us."

"We will. Don't even give it another thought." You sat down across from her and glanced around while she opened up a notebook with her guest list. "So, where is he?"

"Well, if you would have called him in the past five months, you would know he moved out."

You raised your eyebrows in surprise. "When?"

"Like, two months ago, I think."

"Good. That's... good. Good for him."

"He bought a house."

You nearly choked on your wine. "He did?"

She nodded and bit back a grin. "A lot of things have changed. You'd be surprised."

"What's that mean?" you asked with a frown. She just shrugged.

"You'll have to talk to him and find out."

You tossed a piece of popcorn across the table at her and she giggled. "Enough about Joel. Let's get down to business. Like where am I going to put my Aunt Cathie when she refuses to speak to anyone on my side of the family?"

You tapped your chin and looked down at the poster. "Kitchen?"

In hindsight, picking a coffee shop was a bad idea. You were nervous enough as it was, the last thing you needed was extra caffeine. But still you found yourself sitting at a small table by the window twenty minutes before you were supposed to meet Joel, tapping your foot anxiously on the tile floor and turning around every time one of the doors opened.

To kill time, you stared down at your texts from earlier in the week, rereading them over and over, trying to pick up on his energy so you could get an idea of what you were walking into.

Hey

Then, two painful hours later:

Hey

I was hoping we could meet up sometime soon if you're free? Maria not so subtly pointed out we need to plan their Jack and Jill party.

You remembered at the time, the little text bubbles appeared and disappeared over and over, as if he were changing his mind until he finally sent:

Sure. Thursday?

Thursday works. Java Joint on third?

I can swing by after work around 4

Okay - looking forward to it :)

Then... nothing.

Maybe the smiley face was overkill.

You drained the last of your iced latte and got up to throw it in the trash. When you sat back down at your table, a flurry of activity caught your attention through the window. Three girls were bouncing on their heels and giggling into their palms, grabbing each other's shoulders with their phones in their hands as they spoke to none other than Joel fucking Miller. He had his sunglasses on and a white Henley shirt, the material stretching across his broad chest and arms. Paired with the confident smirk on his face, he looked devastatingly good. You watched with a twist of envy in your chest as the girls all took selfies with his arm wrapped around their shoulders before he finally jutted his thumb towards the coffee shop and gave them a final wave, turning on his heel and then heading in your direction. Once his back was turned, the girls collectively lost their shit while looking down at their pictures, but you couldn't pay them any more attention because Joel was about to walk through the door.

Butterflies burst in your stomach when he pushed his sunglasses on top of his head, locking eyes with you, and suddenly it felt like no time had passed at all. Memories of watching movies with your feet tucked under his thigh and making dinners together flashed before your eyes while you forced yourself to give him a shy wave.

He simply nodded in return and motioned towards the counter, indicating he was getting something to drink, and when his gaze finally left yours in favor of reading the menu, you let yourself fully take him in. He looked really fucking good. Something was different but you couldn't put your finger on it. Healthier, maybe? Or maybe he just looked happier now without all the stress you brought into his life.

He must have said something flirty to the barista because she giggled and the tips of her ears turned red and, after he paid, he sauntered down the counter, casually resting his elbow on the hard surface while scrolling his phone.

From the look of it, he was no where near as nervous as you felt, which just made your anxiety spike more.

The barista slid his coffee across the counter with a wide smile and he gave her a wink before turning to weave his way through the tables. You straightened up as he approached and tried to look normal.

"Hi."

He sat down across from you, putting his coffee down with a grunt. "Hey."

Your heart was practically wedged in your throat and your fingers wouldn't stop tapping nervously on the table.

"H-how are things?"

He shrugged and took a sip from his cup. "Alright. Busy."

He was looking everywhere but your eyes. You supposed you deserved that, but it still stung.

"How's work?"

He sighed and rubbed his eyes. "We don't gotta do this, y'know."

"Do what?"

"This," he said, waving his finger back and forth between you. "We can be civil for the sake of Tommy and Maria but we don't gotta pretend this is somethin' it ain't."

You tried to hide the hurt from your eyes but he must have clocked it because he pinched the bridge of his nose and made a frustrated sound.

"Don't gimme that look."

"I'm not," you replied defiantly, staring down at your fingers now. "I'm sorry, Joel. For all of it."

"You made that pretty damn clear when you left."

Your eyes snapped up to him as he took another sip from his coffee and looked around the café. Then your gaze fell onto the writing on his cup: a name with a phone number and a little heart and your stomach rolled but you took a deep breath, just like you practiced, and let it go.

"I didn't leave because I regretted it," you whispered. His eyes finally landed on you, patiently waiting for you to speak again. "I left because I couldn't stay away from you."

His eyes softened but he remained quiet, so you took a shaky breath in and continued.

"I needed time to think over what I did and why I did it and what I really want," you nervously began to shred your straw wrapper as you spoke. "And I couldn't do that with you so goddamn close because there's just something about you that drives me fucking crazy."

His lips twitched. "Crazy in what way?"

You sighed and slumped down in your chair. "Crazy as in every time I see you I want to kiss you and laugh with you and tell you about my day and just... be near you."

"Then why the hell didn't you wanna try 'n make it work?"

"Because of your job," you groaned pathetically, knowing full well you sounded like a broken record. "It's not your fault, Joel, it's mine. I have... issues. But I'm working on it. I've started seeing a therapist-"

"What issues?" he pressed.

"Jealousy, insecurity, self-doubt, anxiety... you name it."

He took a deep breath and readjusted in his chair so he was facing you instead of the café. "I didn't know you were goin' through all that. Is it helpin'?" he asked softly, and for the first time you thought you heard the Joel you used to know.

"Yeah, but it's hard," you replied. "It takes a lot of work to change the way you think and react to something. But I'm trying. Really, I am. Because-" you took a deep breath and raked your fingers through your hair. "No one makes me happy the way you made me happy. And I really, really fucking miss you." Tears welled up in your eyes that you quickly blinked away. Crying in the middle of a coffee shop was not on your list of things to do that day.

"What are you tryin' to tell me?" he asked, dropping his head so he could catch your eye. "Hm? Say it."

"I know I blew my chance with you and I don't deserve another one, but can we please try to be friends again?"

His gaze bounced back and forth between your eyes, studying your expression before slowly straightening up in his seat. "Friends?"

You nodded weakly, your lips pressed into a thin line.

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully as he considered it.

"What'll that look like?"

You frowned and gave him a little shrug. "Joke around. Inquire about each other's lives. Help each other out. Be supportive of one another."

He nodded along as you listed everything off with a confused look on your face, unclear as to why he was asking you to define friendship. "That's it?"

"What do you mean?"

"That's all you want?"

And there it was again: that undeniable pull, that undercurrent of tension bonding you together, making you question every word and every look.

"Yes," you finally answered quietly. It was a lie, of course, but you were too scared to put yourself fully out there. You already felt vulnerable enough with what you confessed and you couldn't stand the rejection if you told him the truth.

He ticked his jaw to the side and you could have sworn in that moment, he saw right through you. But maybe you were wrong, because his next words were -

"Alright, then. Let's be friends."

Your eyes lit up as he pulled out his phone and opened his calendar app.

"Thank you, Joel."

He nodded without looking up. "What weekend were you thinkin' for this party?"

"So you two kissed and made up?"

You scowled at Maria over the aisle at a local florist.

"We did not kiss, thank you."

She grinned and rolled her eyes before picking up a deep pink carnation. "It's a figure of speech, but you never know."

"Things are fine. I mean, they aren't like they were before, I doubt it ever will be, but you have nothing to worry about. We can be in the same room together without anything getting weird. I don't like that one," you added when she picked up a red poppy. She plunked it back down in the bucket and kept browsing.

"Good. And how's the party planning?"

"Really good, we're almost all done. I just need to pick up the shirts and the favors and we should be good to go."

"I can't thank you enough for organizing this for us, I'm so excited! It's gonna be the best weekend ever," she gushed, picking up a few other flowers in similar shades of pink.

"Well, hopefully your actual wedding will be a better weekend, but I appreciate the sentiment," you giggled.

"How are we doing ladies? Do you have any questions?" asked the florist, an older man who was wearing a Hawaiian shirt. Maria launched into a laundry list of questions and you grinned before leaning against the register and pulling out your phone. You had to actively stop yourself from opening up your text chain with Joel. In the past, aside from Maria, he was your person. He was the one you always texted silly things to whenever you were bored or lonely. Even though he agreed to be friends again, it had yet to feel the same. In fact, you still hadn't seen him since that day in the coffee shop. You had managed to do all the planning for the Jack and Jill over the phone, but you didn't want to tell Maria that. Something told you she would want you to try harder with him and you were too nervous to stick your neck out there. The shame you harbored for the way everything fell apart after the camping trip was too great.

"You wanna grab lunch?" she asked once she was done going over in excruciating detail the flowers she wanted in each bouquet and centerpiece.

"God, yes."

There was a nearby Mexican place you both loved so you ordered a couple margaritas while you waited for your food.

"Can I ask you a question that I've been dying to know the answer to but wanted to get you loosened up on booze first?"

You quirked an eyebrow at Maria and nodded hesitantly.

"Have you talked to Sam?"

You closed your eyes and groaned.

"Very briefly, only once. About a month after... you know."

She sipped her drink and nodded. "And?"

"It went about as well as you could expect. I tried to apologize but he was so hurt, I think I just made things worse."

"Thank god he got that new job. The timing couldn't have been better," she said, then winced when she saw the look in your face. "I'm sorry, I just meant at least you didn't have to worry about work being a factor. You had enough going on as it was."

"I know what you meant, it's okay," you assured her.

Maria stirred her drink with her straw for a moment, the two of you falling into a comfortable silence while you listened to Latin music over the speakers and blankly watched some soccer match that was muted on the TV over the bar.

"Can I ask you another messy question?" she finally asked. You grinned and shrugged.

"Go for it."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

You swallowed the lump in your throat and dropped your gaze to the table. "What was I gonna say? 'Oh, by the way, I'm fucking your boyfriend's brother behind my boyfriend's back?' You would have slapped me."

She laughed and leaned back in her seat to make room for the sizzling fajitas that got placed down in front of you both. She eagerly picked one up and began to pour salsa and sour cream on top before she spoke again.

"I don't think I would have slapped you, but I definitely would have made you to dump Sam and get with Joel."

"Yeah, that's not something I would have wanted to hear," you told her with a laugh.

"So," she said, wiping some sour cream from the corner of her mouth, "you didn't wanna date him because of his job, but fucking him was okay?"

You paused your chewing and gave her a blank stare. "What happened didn't make a ton of sense, but I can tell you this much: I was in deep denial over what was happening with Joel. I told myself it was just a friends with benefits thing and it didn't mean anything, but there's just something about him that I can't describe. Like we have some connection that's impossible to ignore, or something? Even the annoying things about him make me smile. I know I sound crazy, I'll shut up," you said when you noticed the incredulous look on Maria's face.

"Girl, you love him."

You balked and nearly choked on your taco. "No."

"Yes."

You shook your head and took a big sip from your margarita. "I care about him deeply but I'm not in love with him."

Maria widened her eyes in disbelief and looked back down at her food. "Okay... just sounds to me like something more."

You quickly changed the subject to her wedding dress, which easily distracted her while you let what she said about Joel marinate. Were you in love with Joel? Is that why you couldn't let Sam in? Were you that blind?

In the end, you decided to let it go. It didn't matter, anyway. What you had with Joel was over, and after the way things ended, you couldn't imagine a situation where he would ever want to give you another chance, assuming you could get past all your insecurities surrounding his profession. Therapy was helping, but you had a long way to go, and ultimately you were seeking help to better yourself overall, not to make things work with Joel.

Maria had told you Joel bought a house but for some reason, you imagined it was a small ranch house somewhere, not a gorgeous two-story relatively new build. Or so, it looked new as you walked up the driveway and stared at the new black roof and white siding. You could feel your heart beginning to beat faster the closer you got to his front porch, gripping the brown paper bag at your side with sweaty fingers.

Stop it, you're just leaving the shirts at his door, there's no need to be nervous.

You climbed the creaky wooden steps and looked at the two Adirondack chairs with a table in between and suddenly you felt a pit form in your stomach. Two?

Why hadn't it occurred to you before now that he could be seeing someone? What if he was bringing her as a date to the wedding?

Stop. It. Drop the bag and fucking go.

You nestled the paper bag behind one of the chairs and turned to leave when you heard the front door squeak open.

"What're you doin'?"

You closed your eyes and silently cursed to yourself before spinning around with a forced smile on your face, only to have it immediately slip with you saw Joel had greeted you completely shirtless with his hair a disheveled mess.

Shit.

"Hey, I'm, uh, just dropping off the shirts for the guys," you pointed to the paper bag, his eyes following your finger.

He opened the screen door, stepping out to pick it up and you had to look away. He was wearing basketball shorts and the material clung around his bulge just a little too well.

"Why didn't you just knock?"

"Um," you took a breath and met his gaze, refusing to let your eyes drop lower than his neck. "Didn't wanna bother you."

"It's no bother. You wanna come in?" he asked. You finally picked up on the gravelly sound to his voice once you were able to ignore his smooth, broad chest.

"Did you just wake up?"

He shrugged and gave you half a smirk while he held the door open.

"Worked late."

"Ah," you replied, gaze dropping to the porch while you rocked back and forth on your heels. Work.

"You comin' in or not? I'm lettin' flies in."

"Uh, sure," you finally decided, sneaking past him, purposely holding your breath so you wouldn't breathe in his intoxicating scent.

His front door opened into his living room, which was about how you expected it to look: a dark couch with a matching chair surrounding a glass coffee table in front of a big screen TV with green and blue plastic clamshell video game cases scattered on the floor.

"Want somethin' to drink?" he asked, brushing past you as he ambled into his kitchen. You followed, noting his house seemed to lack... something.

"Water's fine."

It was bare. That's what it was. It hit you when you were in the kitchen. He had all the essentials but there was no warmth, no decorations, no pictures.

"Did you just move in?" you asked, then thanked him when he handed you a bottle of water.

"'Bout three months ago."

"Oh," you replied before taking a slow sip of water, your eyes darting around the sparse kitchen. "It's nice," you finally said when you pulled the bottle from your lips.

At least you could be sure he wasn't living with a girl. His home practically screamed bachelor pad.

"Thanks. How's your ma?" he asked before picking up a half drank mug of coffee.

You leaned against the kitchen counter and crossed your arms. "She's good. She's already found a new boyfriend. And here I thought I was doing her a favor by moving in and keeping her company," you said with a soft laugh. "Now I feel like I'm in the way of her exciting social life."

Joel nodded and sat down at the kitchen table with a grunt, his legs spread wide as he leaned back into the chair.

"Been meanin' to apologize to you," he said, staring down at his coffee sitting on the table. "Shoulda been there to help you move out, or at least say bye. I'm real sorry 'bout that."

That took you by surprise.

"You don't have anything to apologize for," you said immediately with a shake of your head. "It would have been too painful, anyway."

Joel took a deep breath through his nose. "Yeah, reckon that's why I bailed that day."

Neither of you said anything for a moment, both of you thinking back to that week when everything fell apart.

"I'm so sorry for what I did to you, Joel," you said quietly. He frowned and looked up.

"What you did to me?"

"Yeah. For pulling you into my mess and hurting you. It was never my intention, but I recognize it was my fault. I started it. I kissed you. I came to your room that day. It's all on me, okay?" You looked at him with raw pain in your eyes and he sighed.

"Darlin', if you didn't start it, I would've. It ain't all on you," he told you softly.

You nodded and you felt tears welling up in your eyes, so you dropped your gaze to the floor and pressed your lips into a thin line, trying to stifle your emotion, but Joel could see it.

"It was fun while it lasted though, huh?" he joked, then grinned when you laughed and swiped away a stray tear.

"Yeah," you sniffled with a smile.

Joel pursed his lips and looked back down at his mug, his middle finger gently tracing the lip of the ceramic when he asked, "you seein' anyone?"

You shook your head. "No. I think it's probably best I take some time to work on myself first."

The same question for him was on the tip of your tongue but you couldn't bring yourself to ask because if the answer was yes, you weren't sure you were ready to hear it.

"Well, anyway," he said with a slap to his thighs, "everythin' ready for tomorrow? Need me to do anythin'?"

You smiled and shook your head. "Just handle the guys and I'll handle the girls. I have all the money to pay the limo bus driver. Did you have enough for the booze?"

"Mhm, no problem there," Joel said after taking a sip from his now lukewarm coffee.

The goal was to bar crawl some local spots in downtown Austin and in between, party on the limo bus.

"Just make sure to have a good playlist ready so we can connect to the speakers on the bus," you told him as you headed for the front door.

"Y'leavin'?" he asked, getting up to follow you. You shrugged and slid your shoes back on.

"Yeah, unless there was something else?"

He scratched his beard while he struggled to come up with anything that might make you stay. It just felt too nice to have you around again and he didn't want it to end.

"No, nothin' else," he finally said. "See you tomorrow."

Back to the scene of the crime, you almost let slip, but fortunately common sense kicked in and said, "Tommy and Maria's, 8pm so you can help me pack up the bus before everyone arrives."

"Yes, ma'am," he replied, leaning against the doorframe as he watched you jog down his porch steps, tossing one more wave over your shoulder before getting into your car. As he watched you drive away, he tried to stifle that familiar, desperate feeling he always felt whenever you left and forced himself to go back inside.

The party bus was already wild before it reached the end of the street. You just sat down after passing around Jell-O shots and making sure the snacks and waters you brought were readily available to the entire bus when Maria shoved a solo cup in your hand.

"What's this?" you asked over the roar coming from the speakers blaring AC/DC and the guys screaming along to the lyrics after they all did a toast to Tommy, throwing back shots of tequila.

"Jungle juice!" she replied with a grin. You took a sip and raised your eyebrows in surprise.

"Not bad!"

The lights on the bus dimmed and you looked up to find Joel playing around with the knobs at the front of the bus. Suddenly, brightly colored lights that lined the floor and roof of the bus turned on, painting everyone in a red glow that faded to orange then to all the colors of the rainbow.

"Come on, Tommy! Show us what you got!" one of Maria's bridesmaids yelled when Tommy stood up and leaned on the stripper pole in the middle of the floor for support when the bus took a turn.

"I ain't drunk enough yet, ladies!" he replied with a lopsided grin. Joel chuckled as he made his way back to his seat.

"What about you, Joel?" she asked, then all the groomsmen began whooping and pumping their fists, encouraging him, but he shook his head and sat down.

"Gotta pay me extra for that," he smirked. He brought his beer to his lips and glanced briefly in your direction before looking away.

The whole bus was wearing matching white shirts with Tommy and Maria's names printed on the back with the date of their wedding and a note at the bottom that, depending if you were a girl or a guy, said if found, please return me to the bride/groom.

On the front of the shirts was a big box where everyone could tally all the drinks and shots they had that evening with the sharpie necklaces you handed out as everyone boarded the bus. So far, most people had at least one drink or shot under their belts.

"Alright, who wants to play Tipsy Hoe?" you called out while holding up a stack of index cards. The bus cheered so you began to explain the rules. "We pick one card with a specific word on it that nobody's allowed to say. The person who says it first has to take a shot and then we pick another one."

Another of Maria's bridesmaids eagerly volunteered to pick the first card. You fanned them out as she carefully chose one from the middle and read it. "The word is Bride!" she announced, and half the bus collapsed into laughter.

"Take a shot, you can't say it! Just hold it up!" you giggled when she laughed and buried her face in her hands. "Okay, go again."

After taking a shot and drawing another tally mark on her shirt, she picked another card and this time, held it up for everyone to see: dress.

"What's that say? I can't read it?" Joel teased from the back, and she stuck out her tongue.

"Ha ha, not falling for it."

You sat back down and took a sip from your cup before leaning into Maria's side to take a few selfies only for them to come out completely blurry from the dim lighting, but you saved them anyway.

Joel brushed past the two of you to go to the front of the bus and direct the driver on where to drop the group off for the first bar, and as the bus slowed down, most people chugged the rest of their drinks and added a mark to their shirts before standing up and filing out the door.

"Jesus, Tommy, when'd you have four drinks?" Maria asked when she saw his shirt. He grinned and draped an arm around her shoulders.

"What can I say? The guys can be persuasive."

"Hey, don't you know that girl over there?" Joel asked when he suddenly appeared at your side with a cigarette hanging from his lips. He pointed over to a group of three girls standing right outside the bar with sparkly outfits on and heavy eyeshadow.

"Which one?"

"The one in the blue."

"The blue top or the blue dress?"

He smirked and shot you a wink before taking a deep drag of his cigarette. You groaned and slapped your palm to your face.

"I can't believe I fell for that."

He laughed, a plume of smoke rolling from his lips, then tossed the cigarette on the ground. "C'mon, I'll buy you the shot."

"It's the least you could do," you teased, following him inside past the bouncer. The bar was dark and really fucking loud as you weaved your way through the throngs of sweaty people until Joel managed to squeeze his way to the bar and flag down a bartender. While you waited for your drinks, you tried to locate the rest of the group, but the only people you saw were Maria and Tommy down at the other end of the bar with one other groomsman you didn't know very well.

"Bottoms up," Joel told you after handing you the shot and a mixed drink. You winced when you tossed it back, then handed him the empty glass. He pushed it back across the sticky bar along with his own empty shot glass then pointed to your shirt.

"Ah, right," you mumbled before uncapping the sharpie around your neck and scribbling a tick mark on the fabric. Joel stretched his own shirt out and you hesitated for just a second before drawing a quick mark on his shirt and tried not to focus too much on the sweat that had soaked through the collar already.

"You stayin' at Tommy and Maria's tonight?" he asked. He brought a bottle of beer to his lips and took a long sip but didn't take his eyes away from you.

"Yeah, I can't imagine driving home at this rate," you replied while motioning to your shirt with your free hand. He nodded and let his eyes drift around the room behind you, head nodding slightly to the beat of the music before he said, "Maybe we can watch a movie. Like old times."

You raised your eyebrows in surprise. "You're staying over, too?"

He nodded again and took another drink as your heart fluttered nervously in your chest. Maria conveniently failed to mention he was planning on staying the night, as well. Where the hell did she expect you both to sleep when there was only one couch?

You scanned the bar and found her laughing at something Tommy was saying, waving his hands around dramatically as he told some story. Narrowing your eyes, you hoped she could feel the heat from your stare, but of course she was oblivious.

Just as you were about to reply to him about the movie, you felt someone's arm snake around your waist right before their overpowering cologne made you gag.

"You wanna dance?" a voice slurred in your ear, and you immediately twisted away from his sour breath and turned to face him. He wasn't with your group, just some other patron, and he looked completely wasted. A thin sheen of sweat covered his neck and face and his eyes looked glassy as he stared down at you, waiting for an answer.

"Uh, no thank you! I was just leaving."

"Aw, come on, just one dance?" the stranger pushed with a lopsided grin but it just made him look even more sloppy.

"She's with me," Joel said defensively before tugging you closer and tucking you under his arm. You could smell his deodorant and soap and it instantly transported you back in time to the point where you had to fight the urge to bury your face against his chest and breathe deep.

"My bad," the guy said, raising his hands defensively before walking away.

"Thanks," you said so softly you weren't sure he could hear you over the music, but he did. He dropped his arm and cleared his throat as you tried to create a bit of space between you again without being awkward, but it was hard to do.

"I hope you don't feel like you can't dance with other guys 'cause I'm here," he said.

"No, I know, I'm just not looking for... that right now," you assured him before taking a long sip from your drink and glancing around the bar.

"Right, you mentioned that," he replied. The topic of your love life caused a heavy silence to settle between you even though you were surrounded by noise. Right when you were about to make an excuse and leave, he spoke again.

"How's all that goin', by the way? Therapy?"

"It's... going okay," you said. What was he getting at?

He tossed back the rest of his beer and slid the empty across the bar.

"Okay enough to start datin' again soon?"

You swallowed nervously. Was he asking for a specific reason?

The look on your face made him switch gears because he grinned and shrugged. "Friends ask 'bout each other, right?"

Oh.

"They do."

He nodded, his smile faltering a moment when his gaze slid to your lips before he forced himself to look away. "C'mon, let's find the rest of the party." Then he took your hand and led you through the crowd.

Stop it, get it together, he's just being nice, like you asked, you told yourself. But you really, really hoped you were wrong.

"Here's some extra pillows and blankets," Maria sang gleefully with a shit eating grin.

"I can't believe you," you seethed quietly so Joel wouldn't hear you from downstairs.

"What? I forgot Tommy told Joel he could stay over," she said with a tipsy shrug.

"I'm half tempted to call an Uber."

"Don't you fucking dare. Now be an adult and go sleep with your ex," she giggled, giving your shoulder a shove to make you move towards the direction of the stairs.

"Hilarious," you replied dryly, but before you took another step she pulled you into a hug.

"Thank you so much for tonight, we had such a," she hiccuped before pulling away, "great time."

You blew her a kiss before giving her the finger. "Love you."

"Love you, too!" she practically shouted, and you turned around halfway down the stairs to shush her. She slapped her hands over her mouth and giggled before stumbling into her bedroom and shutting the door.

"Wha' the hell was she shoutin' for?" Joel asked groggily from his spot splayed out on the couch, remote control hanging limply from his fingers as he blinked at the TV, trying to clear his vision.

"Nothing. Here," you said, tossing him a pillow and blanket. He reached out to catch them but missed, then started to giggle when he accidentally slid from the couch onto the floor to pick them up. You grinned and threw yours on the other end of the couch and wandered into the kitchen, returning with two bottles of ice cold water. "Drink this," you said with a yawn. He took it and you plopped down on the other end of the couch while Joel flicked through title after title on one of the many streaming services Tommy and Maria had.

While Joel continued to browse, you shifted uncomfortably before setting down your water and reaching behind you to unclasp your bra. With practiced ease, you pulled it out from under your shirt without having to remove any clothes and tossed it on the floor. Joel's eyes widened when he saw it and looked at you.

"Don't get any ideas, I just can't sleep in a bra."

He smirked before picking a romcom and settling in under his blanket. "Next you gonna tell me you can't sleep with panties on?"

You snorted and felt your cheeks flush but thankfully the lights in the living room were off, leaving only the glow from the television to light the room.

"You wish."

The alcohol was making both of you way flirtier than you intended to be, so you shut up. You watched the movie hazily for a while, laughing softly at Hugh Grant's charismatic humor. It was quiet for so long that you had assumed Joel fell asleep until he suddenly spoke again.

"This's nice."

You rolled your head to the side and smiled at him. "Yeah, it is."

He smiled back, his eyes bright from the glow from the television, cheeks still a little pink from the booze as he looked you up and down. "C'mere."

You pinched your eyebrows together. "Why?" you asked slowly. He rolled his eyes and waved you over.

"Jus' get your ass over here."

With a sigh, you scooted over to his end of the couch and once you got close enough, he threw his arm around your shoulders and pulled you into his side. You let out a quiet oof when the side of your face came in contact with his chest, but god the way he smelled had you reeling for the second time that night. Even with the lingering scent of cigarette smoke and spilled liquor, he still smelled amazing. He smelled like him. A comforting smell you missed so much in the past five months that it almost hurt to have it back again.

His hand gently stroked your back as you watched the movie. The steady thrum of his heart beating against your ear combined with the alcohol and his warmth made your eyelids droop and before you knew it, you were out like a light. When Joel realized you were asleep, he looked down at you and smiled before turning off the television and slowly rotating you both so you were laying (albeit, scrunched) together along the couch. His arm remained wrapped around you and your face was buried against his chest with one of your legs draped over one of his and everything finally felt right again.

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01zfan · 4 months ago

Text

peach fuzz | l. at

camp counselor!anton x camp counselor!reader | 12k words

this fic took everything out of me omfg…so much fun to write and i loved writing it too. i listened to peach fuzz by tyler the creator, juke jam by chance the rapper, birds of a feather by billie eilish, and words by passenger while writing this.

contains: the ups and downs of friendship, cheating, protected sex (BE LIKE THEM)

anton learned through the gentle pushes from his parents that no kid his age should’ve avoided other people like the plague. when anton’s teachers would clear their throats while he was talking he knew it wasn’t normal for him to have such a soft voice. he couldn’t stop himself from clamming up when adults in sterile offices and white lab coats asked him questions about the friends he didn’t have.

anton didn’t know anyone else like him existed until he met you.

even if the doctor told his parents not to overreact and that anton could’ve simply just been painfully shy, they did not take well to the news. within a week anton was dropped off at summer camp. apparently the solution to an anxious child was to ship them off to an unfamiliar environment with kids they’ve never met before for nine weeks.

anton had to be bribed to leave the car, and he clung to his mother’s leg and dragged his feet on the gravel as he trudged in her shadow. he watched kids dressed in the same khaki shorts and the same camp ridgewood on their shirts. when kids got too close to his safe space anton only nestled further into his mother, so much to the point that he wrinkled her dress pants.

“and i’m guessing you're anton?”

at the sound of someone else calling his name besides his parents anton froze. he slowly turned around from the screaming kids to face the lady sitting at the table. she wore the same thing as anton, except she had camp counselor stitched into her hat and a name badge hanging from her neck. anton could barely see her over the table and the camp ridgewood banner that hung from it. anton heard his parents repeat her name but didn’t dare to say it out loud as he kept half of his body hidden behind his mother.

“anton, don’t be rude, say hi!” his mom said.

all anton could do was shake his head and burrow further into her side. the lady at the desk didn’t try pushing him to answer, and she didn’t ask his parents if he could speak. she only peaked underneath the desk briefly before looking back to anton and smiling.

“i have a friend i’d like for you to meet. i think you two will get along very well.” she said.

anton watched the lady beckon to him. the promise of a friend was enticing, but it was not enough to leave the comfort of his mother’s leg. his hands had to be manually pried from her pants and he had to be guided behind the table by his dad’s hand on his shoulder.

anton dragged his feet, half-expecting to see the same doll that was in all the doctor’s offices. but to his surprise—and his parents—he saw you underneath the table. years down the road his mom would describe you as a frightened dog, wide eyed and ready to attack while you slunk to a shaded corner of the table.

anton thought you looked polite.

you had your chin resting on your knees while you readjusted the strap on your shoe a million times. you looked apprehensive at the three pairs of unfamiliar adult eyes staring you down. the sound of velcro ripping only ceased when you looked at anton.

anton’s parents were surprised again when they heard their son read your name out loud. you nodded silently and looked for his name tag. they gasped when anton sat down next to you after you silently made room for him underneath the check-in desk.

after that, you two were inseparable. when given the option to either sink or swim both of you became solid rocks. you sank to the bottom of the ridgewood lake together. you two you were both picked last for all the sports and no one knew your names, only referring to you two as “the quiet ones”. people had to fight tooth and nail to get a response from either one of you. both of you were believed to be mute, something that had to be debunked by your parents and the sole camp counselor who heard you both speak.

your soft spoken attitudes and meek demeanor was a match made in heaven. everyone believed you two communicated telepathically, like there were magnets constantly keeping you two close together. you two were inseparable for the nine weeks you spent together at camp. when the summer camp came to an end and you two had to be (forcefully) separated, anton didn’t speak for a month in protest and he cried all the way home. rocks were trapped between the soles of his feet and his sandals from planting his feet in the ground.

the next summer you both found eachother again. you didn’t wear velcro shoes anymore and anton could look adults in the eye now. no time had passed between the two of you, the moment you saw eachother everything felt like it was back in place—that’s the only way anton knew how to describe what he felt then.

you two saw eachother at camp again the next summer when anton started becoming lanky and uncoordinated and you started speaking up for yourself.

then the summer after that when anton became the tallest camper and you both became too shy to comment on the growing tension and the profuse apologies after making the slightest physical contact.

time continued to pass and you two continued to change, but that feeling only grew. anton no longer cowered behind his mother and he was able to make friends his own age, but he felt shy at the mere thought of you. even if anton grew out of his debilitating meekness like the doctors said he would, he couldn’t quite shake the feeling he got when he was around you. like impending doom or something looming over him but it made him as happy as it did sick. he convinced himself that all friends felt that way about eachother. he also convinced himself that all friends needed to hear the other’s voice to fall asleep and that the blush appearing across his face constantly was normal.

before you both knew it, your last summer as campers came. you went from the youngest to the oldest. you guys wore a different colored shirt than the rest of the campers and all the counselors seemed to include the word final into every sentence.

anton started feeling a pit form in the bottom of his stomach when the camp counselors started acting like the senior campers were going to die and be buried at the lake. he even imagined the procession, all of the adults wearing black veils as they said their final comments about each camper. when they would get to him they would just shake their heads before saying here lies anton, the one that never made a move and never will because he’s going to college upstate while she’s staying to go to community college. and he actually asked to be buried alive.

“anton.” the sound of bottles clanking together in taesan’s backpack brought him back to their shared cabin. “you ready?” he asked.

the only thing that distracted anton from the end of summer camp was his fellow campers becoming increasingly daring. there was an unspoken rule that as you aged up in the camp, you had more freedom. it was a silent agreement between the older campers and the counselors, a sign of respect and something similar to carrying on a tradition. the only rule—which was ironically the first thing broken—was that they couldn’t be reckless. so each night the older campers would wait until lights out so the counselors could deny culpability and sneak off into the forest so they could do exactly that.

if he was being honest, anton didn’t have a taste for alcohol and he didn’t enjoy the idea of being out in the dark unknown so late at night. he preferred to be in his sweaty cabin instead of being eaten alive by the mosquitos and the idea of being caught, but each night before lights out you would text anton you coming out? and he couldn’t stop himself from sending back a yes, as long as you are there. (you always were, sitting across the campfire from anton with a drink in your hand and talking to all the friends you made over the years).

“here, take this.” taesan said, handing anton a case of beer.

anton’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head as he hesitated to grab the case. his roommate had to shake the case towards him and raise his eyebrows before anton replaced taesan’s hand with his.

“how the hell did you sneak this onto camp?” anton asked.

he asked the same question everyday and got the same answer. each time taesan would just shrug his shoulders and say i have my connects with a smirk on his face.

(it was the spirits store owner thirty minutes away who always likened taesan to a korean kurt cobain.)

after anton shook his head and walked outside, he saw his fellow campers one by one sneak out of their cabins to head towards the forest. the quiet symphony of twigs snapping underneath creeping feet filled the air but no one awoke or thought to investigate. anton remembered being so scared his first day of camp all those years ago that he didn’t go to sleep. while he was looking out the window trying to will his mom miles away to come pick him up he saw the then senior campers walking into the forest the same way he was now. he would’ve never thought that he would end up becoming one of them, especially the one that helped supply the alcohol. but he was easily swayed by your smile and the cheers of his fellow campers as he doled out beers to anyone with their hand out.

anton saved the last beer in his hand for you as he pointlessly used it for bait to lure you from the other side of the campfire to the spot right beside him.

if someone where to ask, the two of you would agree you didn’t know how it happened. adrenaline and alcohol made the night fuzzy for you both—all you guys could really recall was the crackling sound of the campfire and other campers talking. both of you could’ve been catching up with the people you would probably never see again, but instead you and anton opted to sit so close that the sides of your sweaty thighs were glued together and your shoulders bumped anytime either of you laughed. you two couldn’t be bothered to talk to anyone else, jumping from topic to topic while subconsciously swatting away bugs that got too close.

you two would’ve told everyone that as the night progressed you both slurred on about college, coming back to camp, and everything that happened in between. anton would withhold that he was grateful he could blame his rosy cheeks on the fire and the beer in his hand when you shyly said you were going to miss him. anton would’ve omitted the adrenaline rush he got when he held eye contact with you for longer than three seconds to tell you that he would find a way to keep in touch. he felt significantly drunker when you told him that you were his bestfriend and you don’t know what you’d do without him.

anton remembers the campfire burning down to just the embers and taesan putting half empty bottles of hard liquor back in his bag and sohee telling everyone else it was time to call it a night. he remembers feeling cold even in the muggy heat of summer after you got up from sitting beside him, but he remembers feeling warm when your soft hand grabbed his to lift him up from the tree trunk you two sat on. he remembers not letting go of your hand and you intertwining your fingers with his, and how you squeezed so tight you left crescent moon shaped impressions on the back of his hand. he remembers you looking mischievously towards the rest of the group in front of you before pulling him off the beaten path. anton remembers widening his eyes before your face silently begged him to trust you. he remembers following behind you a second later, led by your hand as you headed deeper into the forest.

anton remembers the leaves tickling his face and the silence of the night as he followed behind you. just as he was lost in the forest anton remembers feeling your hands move to his chest as you pushed him against the trunk of the tree. he remembers the twigs poking into his back as you quickly pressed you lips against his. just as the shock settled and anton’s hands clutched at your camp shirt you pulled away.

“are we gonna remember this?” you asked breathlessly.

anton grabbed your bare thigh in his hand as he clumsily lifted the leg and pressed into the small of your back to bring you closer. he swallowed thickly, trying to remember your soft lips and the taste of liquor mixed with your spit in the short amount of time.

“i’ll forget if you want me to.” anton murmured.

so when you nodded your head before crashing your lips on his again with more fervor anton forced himself to forget. he forgot your giggling voice and how you leaned into his side and wrapped your hand around his waist. anton forgot about the twigs loudly snapping under his heavy feet and your hands that greedily pressed into his chest and stomach. he forced himself to forget how he kissed you until he was dizzy and out of breath, and he forgot the way you had to wipe your lips with the back of your hand. he forced himself to forget the million drunken kisses he pressed to the back of your hand and your fingers that prodded his flesh. he forgot about how welcoming your dark room seemed behind you and the regret on your face when you told him goodnight.

anton didn’t know he had the right to remember until you came by his cabin the next night. seeing you in the dead of the night was the first time anton had seen you all day. anton knew you were avoiding him, and in an effort to remain casual he let you do it. he had to ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach each time you would avoid his eyes or suddenly cut to a different direction than him.

you were both staring at echother wide eyed, trying to see who the first would be to remember. trying to forget was useless when you bit your lip to try and find the words. the only thing anton could think about was how he ran his tongue over your top row of teeth before you tilted your head and stuck your tongue in his mouth. your eyes were focused on anton’s chest as the memories came back to you too.

“i don’t want to ruin our friendship.” you said quietly.

senior campers walked by anton’s cabin towards the forest in a mass exodus. they were too busy trying to go undetected to notice you two staring at eachother in the doorway of anton’s cabin. in that moment, with the lightning bugs and the overwhelming unsaid it seemed like it was only you two. there was a party that was about to go on, and it would be the first party of the summer that you would miss. anton had another case of beer to hand out but he couldn’t be bothered. he had the chance to be alone with you for the next hour and he wanted to be completely sober.

he backed into the darkness of his cabin and you followed after him step for step like you were lost in a trance. you closed the door behind you and let yourself get caged between anton and the wall.

“nothing is going to change.” anton said before grabbing you the same way he did before.

anton was right. for that last week of camp nothing changed between the two of you. you were the same inseparable pair in the daytime and it was the same at night. the only difference was that you and anton found yourselves sneaking around at night to kiss eachother on the lips. sometimes you would be straddling anton’s hips on a recliner in your cabin while you pulled at his shirt and other times you would be underneath him while he gripped your waist. you two were able to convince yourselves you were getting closer through the intimacy. what was a better way to learn about your friend than to kiss them for hours on end?

the last week of camp, kissing was the only thing on your minds. anytime anton would speak you would forget to listen to the words coming out. anton’s head was constantly on a swivel trying to follow your every move. the final days passed right by the both of you. seeing you stuff your final bag into the backseat of your parents car hit anton like a freight train. you two spent all your time kissing that you didn’t talk about the future. time was out and all you two could do was hope the last kiss you shared the night prior was enough.

“i’ll see you later, anton.” you said.

tears stung your eyes and anton felt a lump forming in his throat. he wished he could kiss you. he imagined your heart was slamming in your chest the same way it was the night before.

“i’ll call you.” anton nodded his head in an effort to shake off that sinking feeling. “every night.” he added.

anton kept his promise. he called you on the way back home, he called you even when he had nothing else to say. he called you when he moved into his dorm, and you were the first person to see his finished side of the room after he set all of his things up. your voice became a lifeline for anton while he adjusted to his surroundings.

he discovered that rich kids who went to ivy leagues were undeniably dense, almost as if they didn’t know people existed outside of their tax bracket.

anton still remembers the looks on his peers faces when they found out where he was from. he was able to hide that he grew up surrounded in the remote boonies where everyone wore true camouflage and drove large pickup trucks. anton credited it to the fact that he didn’t have a heavy country accent due to his parents actually being from new jersey. he grew up with a lack of southern influence in his home, so much so that he didn’t realize he would miss it until he went up north for school. no one knew about southern hospitality or the comforting idleness of being surrounded by nothing but open road and livestock. anton was overstimulated his entire freshman year—he had nothing to do his whole life then suddenly he could do everything. he could get his ear pierced in a store the size of a closet then go thrifting down the block and go to a tourist spot all within the hour. anton loved having things to do, but he missed the simplicity of the countryside. he liked the lack of choice, the fact that there was only three things to do and you needed a car to do any of them.

you seemed to be the only one who understood him. each night he would talk about his day and end it with talking about his clueless peers. he talked your ear off while he laid on his side with his phone balancing on his cheek. he kept going even through your sounds of acknowledgment. anton didn’t realize he was ranting until it was late into the night and your voice started sounding light and airy.

anton knew that he should’ve hung up after he realized what time it was. but your voice sounded so sweet when you were assuring him that he would find people like him the longer he stayed in there. but anton didn’t want anyone else besides you. he didn’t have the heart to tell you that he imagined you with him in the city everyday, and that he had a page on his notes app filled with places he wanted to take you to. anton moved to his back to stare at his ceiling when he remembered that’s how you always laid in bed. he adjusted the phone in his hand and held it close to his ear.

“how are you, though?” anton asked quietly.

“hmm.” your voice was even more quiet. your hums were barely picked up by your phone’s receiver as you tried thinking about the current highlights of your life. “community college is easy. like alarmingly easy.” you said.

both you and anton laughed into your phones at the confusion in your voice. he wondered if you made the face you always made when he would laugh at one of your jokes. anton wondered if you were sleeping next to your plushies he bought you or if you had pulled your covers up to your chin.

“i miss you alot though.” you said honestly.

then he wondered what you were wearing. maybe you had on that cute two-piece set that you always wore to camp or maybe it was so hot in your room that you wore nothing.

“did you hear what i said?”

anton pulled himself from his musings at your question. you sounded more awake than before, and the interrogating tone of your voice made anton perk up from across the country.

“i wasn’t listening.” anton said sheepishly. “i’m sorry.”

“don’t be, you must be tired.” you said.

anton heard you shuffle in your bed and he wondered if you were checking the time on your bedside clock.

there was complete silent on your side of the line before anton heard your deep sigh.

“you should probably go to sleep, right?” you asked.

both you and anton were silent on opposite ends of the line more awake than ever. if he closed his eyes and focused on your breathing he swore you were right next to him on his tiny twin bed. he took in a deep breath and ran his hands down his chest until he settled on the waistband of his shorts.

“i’m not tired.” he said.

you didn’t waste a second responding to him. anton felt the air in his dorm room prickle with electricity as sweat preemptively started lining his body.

“me neither.”

if anton knew that the next hour and a half would’ve resulted in you two avoiding eachother he never would’ve quietly asked you what you were wearing after you asked him what he was thinking about. he would’ve never told you that he missed you more and more everyday and that he wished to touch you more than anything. but you two were acting off of your own carnal desires, fueled by lack of contact and never going further beyond kissing and grinding when you both knew you were running out of time. he didn’t stand a chance when he heard your breathy whimper when you asked for permission to add another finger. each heavy breath crackled through anton’s speaker, and he wrapped his hand tight around his dick imagining it was you. a confession might’ve slipped out in between the callings of your name and the rhetorical can you feel it’s, but the fog of chasing after something made anton act on impulse only. he finished in his hand the same time you clamped around your fingers, and as soon as the euphoria washed away all you two were left with was an intense silence and heavy realization over the phone. when anton finally opened his eyes he noticed the mess he had made on himself and of your friendship.

anton laid in the bed, uncomfortable and sweaty with wet sticky hands when he heard your heavy pants on the other end of the line. before he could comment on the sudden change in the air he heard you pull in a sharp breath.

“i should go to bed.” you said quickly.

when you hung up before anton could reply, he knew something was wrong. his mouth was still agape when he heard the two definitive beeps on the other end of the line. he still stared at the ceiling, hand resting on his loose stomach as everything sank in.

he waited for you to come to him first. if he was told what he did wrong he could’ve apologized for it. was he too brash? was he too desperate? did he say your name too much? knowing you had become an innate part of anton. he knew what your favorite movie was, what you liked to do and how you talked. so when you left him hanging on the other end of the line and didn’t tell him why, he felt like he knew nothing. he no longer knew how to speak in class or turn in assignments, he didn’t know how to make friends and he didn’t know how to leave his dorm.

maybe that’s what pulled him back to camp. without you anton was left to scramble for a shred of familiarity, even if that meant he would have to become a camp counselor. he prayed his personal hell as a child would became his oasis as a young adult and serve as a mental detox from the fast pace of living in the city and a reprieve from his challenging school curriculum. if he was lucky, he would get the same cabin and pretend the creak in his floorboards was you. so he applied to be a swim instructor and lifeguard on a whim.

he never would’ve thought that you had the same idea as him.

when anton first unloaded his things from the back of his moms’ car and saw you heading into your old cabin he felt warmth the same time he felt the panic wash over him. in the spilt moment he realized the girl who looked like you was actually you everything stilled. the kids running around unattended ceased, the sound of camp counselors yelling for order was silenced. the only thing in anton’s sights was you and the wide eyed look on your face when you noticed him.

the whole day he felt like he was chasing after your shadow. he heard oh, she was just here and you missed her all day. anton was examining your counseling schedule all day, trying to find a time that lined up between the two of you. he didn’t have his epiphany until the middle of the day when he was hunched over rereading the times of your schedule instead of looking when his next class was. anton realized that even if he felt like he didn’t know you anymore, you two were still had to be the same. that’s why he waited until nightfall and caught you on his way to his cabin to talk.

anton ironically caught you on his way out. before you could make it up the three stairs to knock on the door anton opened it, clad in black to try and blend in with the night. when you two recognized what the other was doing, your eyes both widened the same way.

“what are you doing?” you asked.

“what are you doing?” he responded.

you looked at him with eyes wide as saucers while your hands fidgeted at your sides, stumbling over your words as you tried to figure out what to say. you would’ve stayed out there all night if the senior campers didn’t start leaving their cabins to head into the forest. the risk of being caught by kids who were also at risk of being caught pushed you into anton’s cabin.

you closed the door behind you and felt himself getting lightheaded. the last time you were this close to him privately he were touching eachother all over. now you leaned your back against his door, hand nervously flexing around your hand.

“i’m sorry for not calling you.” you apologized while your eyes were fixed on the floor.

“it’s alright.” anton assured.

he thought he was going to die the first night you didn’t pick up your phone. he went to a party and drank too much and kissed a girl who very much believed they were dating now. he didn’t have the heart to tell her that he was in a very committed relationship that wasn’t a relationship with his bestfriend.

“i just can’t believe we fucked over the phone before fucking in real life.” you said.

anton couldn’t stop the smile from stretching across his face. your bluntness caused him to take a step back and realize how odd the situation between you and him had become. his mind shamelessly went back to that night where he was whimpering your name with his dick in one hand and his duvet in the other. he told himself in that moment that he would’ve never done it if he knew it’d lead to this but the way you stood before him now only made anton see phone sex as an opening—an opportunity. so instead of lying and telling you he would’ve taken it all back to have you in his life in the same capacity as before he looked down at the crown of your head that still hung low.

“that doesn’t mean we can’t do that now.” he said quietly.

anton watched your head instantly perk up at his words. he saw you blink as you the words sunk in. anton showed you he meant it by grabbing your arm and slowly walking you backwards to his bed. he watched you take slow steps at first, almost a stumble as you followed him across the creaking floorboards. you almost tripped on the thin fraying carpet and anton saw it as another opportunity. he held your arm even tighter before he finally sat on the edge of his bed to look up at you. you were set in the middle of his sights, the wooden logs of the cabin served as your backdrop. he bit back the compliment that rested on his tongue to play with the end of your shirt instead. even if a year had passed his hands still fit perfectly. he gently pressed his thumbs into your waist, until the fabric of your shirt crinkled underneath his grip and your hands went to his shoulders.

“anton.” you said quietly.

anton instantly looked up from your waist to your face. your pupils were dilated and your body leaned towards his but your bottom lip was caught between your teeth as you nervously smoothed the fabric on his shoulders.

“you got a girl back home now?” you asked.

referring to his college upstate as his home felt odd. although there was alot of things in new york it didn’t have his parents house, it didn’t have this camp, and it sure as hell didn’t have you. but anton knew bringing that up would’ve just been seen as deflecting, so he kept the same grip on you to show that nothing had changed when he nodded his head.

he didn’t know if you avoiding eye contact was because you were hurt or if he was reading too much into things. anton decided to focus on the way you started pinching the fabric of his shirt that draped his shoulders and your eyes that focused on his neck.

you were silent for a moment, focusing on the base of anton’s neck before you tilted your head to the side.

“how would you feel if i did the same thing?” you hummed.

anton noticed your tone wasn’t shy anymore. if you were upset you hid it well. you spoke to him the same way you did over the phone, coy and saccharine.

“how’d you meet her?” you asked.

“what are you wearing?”

“at a party.” anton answered.

“how long have you two been dating?” you asked.

“are you touching yourself right now?”

“not even dating, really.” anton leaned back hoping you’d follow but you stayed in the same place. “just talking.” he added the truth quickly, hoping you’d come closer to him.

“how long?” you repeated.

hearing the stern edge to your voice took anton all the way back to your gentle orders that came through the speaker of his phone. he listened then and he listened now. anton racked through the foggy timeline of his talking stage at college until he came up with a number.

“three weeks?” he said.

anton watched your head cock to the side at his answer. he practically watched you calculate the time from the infamous phone call to the soft launch that anton reposted to his instagram story. when everything added up you looked back to him with a smirk on your face.

“you missed me that much?” you asked.

anton didn’t hesitate to nod, even though some part of him believed he should be withholding such information. if there was a handbook about being friends with benefits with your actual platonic bestfriend, anton was sure that talking about romantic endeavors would be under the list of things not to do. but your hands wandered down from his shoulders to his chest and slid all the way down until your fingers grazed his clothed collarbones. anton wanted nothing more than to get pushed down by you until his back his the mattress. when you experimentally pushed and slotted yourself between his spread legs anton came to the decision then and there that he would give you what you wanted until you returned the favor.

“you know i always do.” anton said while pulling you towards him.

you smirked again and pushed his chest a little harder. anton gave into your strength immediately, happy for an excuse to press his back against the mattress.

he looked from his spot on the mattress to see you still standing in front of him. he pathetically reached his hand out to you, trying to get you to close the gap. but you were steadfast on your side of the bed, looking down at him like you were waiting for something. anton racked his mind for what you wanted to hear, but instead he gave you the truth.

“you’re my bestfriend. how could i not miss you?” he said quietly.

anton didn’t know why that worked. maybe it was the honesty, or maybe it was hearing your relationship be lamented in the still of night. regardless, it was the last thing you needed to get you to stop holding back. like a switch had flipped you were no longer stoic or had to be guided by anton’s hands.

you crawled onto the bed and straddled anton’s body while ridding yourself of your clothes. he couldn’t keep up with your confession that you were too cowardly to advance beyond kissing last summer. anton could only helplessly nod and press his lips to your neck when you told him timidly between gasps that you wanted him but not between the satellites floating in space. you needed to hear his voice in real life, and feel his real hands on you instead of screwing your eyes shut and pretending your soft fingers were his. the only time anton pulled away was when you told him breathlessly you wanted to go all the way.

he crawled onto the bed and lifted his upper body to your bare chest while his hands ran up and down your back.

“are you sure?” anton asked, eyes wide.

after you nodded and arched into his touch, anton repeated the same sentiment back to you. he pulled you close by the small of your back of your pants while he pressed his lips to any place he could reach.

after that night, it set the mood for the rest of the camp. just like the year before you two ended up spending a majority of your alone time sneaking around to be reckless. becoming camp counselors and having your own cabins made everything entirely too easy. you no longer had to pull anton into the deeper part of the forest to kiss him, all you had to do was wait for a break in your schedules and invite him to your cabin.

each time it started and ended the same. you two had developed your own signal, a simple head nod before you turned around and started heading in the general direction of your cabin. anton would follow far behind you, bobbing and weaving through the crowd of kids and other counselors as you both made your ways back. you would go in first and anton would make sure that the coast was clear before coming in. he would close and lock the door behind you, say something about how you were already ready on the bed for him. you would always tease him back about his girlfriend, repeating the same thing you said to him the first time.

“how would you feel if i did the same thing?” you sounded like you were thinking it out loud, mentioning anton’s almost girlfriend without directly stating her name.

anton never answered your question directly. he would distract you by nipping your skin or pulling your hips to his a little faster. anything to interrupt your thoughts, or to push everything else out of your head until it was just him. it worked for the most part, but the question still remained in the back of your head. in between moments of bliss you would look down at anton, lost in you the same way you were lost in him. he didn’t think you had it in you to get in a relationship. he knew he had no right to restrict you from pursuing someone, but he always tried and prove you only needed him in life. when he would cover your classes for you, when he wordlessly understood what you needed, or preemptively got you something you wanted. when anton would hold you down the way you needed or suffocate you with his weight in the best way it was him silently saying why would you need anyone else? for the most part it worked. but each time antons’ phone would light up from a notification you felt a sick churn in your stomach. how would you feel if i did the same thing?

he never answered you, so you decided to find out for yourself.

“you should probably answer that, right?”

anton first was nervous bringing up the elephant sitting on his beside table. he believed he was making a mistake bringing up the quiet ringing of your phone and the annoying buzz on the wooden tabletop, but pride blossomed in his chest when he saw how quickly you turned your confused head look up from the pillow. anton’s dick twitched in his boxers as he felt your whole body stiffen for a moment as you tried to work through your foggy brain.

“what?” you said, voice still hot and bothered.

anton’s dick jumped again when he saw you crane your head back to look at him.

even if he stopped pumping his fingers in and out of your heat, and the camp was completely silent from it being in the middle of the night, you didn’t register anything outside of him. anton watched your eyebrows furrow from confusion to relief when he purposely pressed his scissoring fingers against your soft walls.

when your eyes finally focused back on him anton flicked his head towards your vibrating phone on the corner of his table. he couldn’t stop his wicked smile when he saw you slowly realize what he was talking about. you stiffened even further, your eyes grew wide in panic, and your walls tightened around his fingers.

anton could only blame you so much for not noticing your phone. past a certain time it was automatically set to do not disturb, rejecting phone calls and texts until the morning. anton could only guess two people from your contact list that overrode your silenced notifications. he looked around for his own phone as he adjusted his legs that stretched down the length of his tiny twin sized mattress.

“feels so good you didn’t even notice your boyfriend calling?” anton cooed.

when you parted your lips getting ready to speak, anton plunged a third finger into your cunt. you turned your face back into the pillow to muffle your moans, further arching your back as you preened your hips towards his hand. anton leaned forward from the headboard of his bed and pressed his wet lips to the swell of your ass as your walls clenched around his fingers again.

life was perfect when you were laid out for him like this, face in the pillow with your ass up in the air. you were in between anton’s outstretched legs, holding onto his calf for dear life as your head was facing towards the foot of the bed. anton had to rip his attention away from the thin layer of sweat that coated your body and your nails that dug into the muscle of his leg as your phone continued to vibrate beside him. he rolled his eyes when the contact picture of your boyfriend lit up your phone screen again.

“he’s just going to keep calling if you don’t answer.” anton said, not caring to hide the annoyance in his voice.

he knew better than anyone that a suspecting partner was not going to stop until they got their answers. this happened the summer before when the girl anton pretended was you wouldn’t stop blowing up his phone.

he would’ve been more gentle with you about the situation, maybe he would’ve ignored the buzzing for your sake. but you seemed to only get aa boyfriend in the first place to spite him. he remembers the shock of seeing the smiling mans face on your instagram story. you revealed your new partner the same way anton revealed his—how could he not think this was a pointed attack? he waited for you to drop the games and to ditch him, but you kept him by your side despite talking to anton everyday. reminiscing on the times your boyfriend told you to get off the phone with him caused anton to bend his fingers at the knuckle inside of you just to see feel squirm again.

you turned away from the pillow, your face flushed and eyes bleary as you shook your head.

“i don’t wanna talk to him.” you babbled.

anton looked away from your phone, instantly giving you a mocking pout at your pitiful expression.

you had the same dejected face when anton opened the door for you an hour ago. after countless summers of sneaking around you had your back facing him and looked towards the moon. you weren’t paying attention to your surroundings in the slightest, it would’ve been too easy for you to get caught breaking one of the few rules camp counselors had. but anton’s reprimands were caught in his throat when you turned around to face him. instantly he saw your flushed face and fresh tear tracks that were smeared across the bags underneath your eyes. your arms were crossed and your head hung low, you seemed so small in front of anton he almost thought the gentle night breeze was going to whisk you away. that’s why he wrapped his hand around your wrist so quickly and brought you into the comfort of his single cabin.

you stood in front of his door for a long time, anton was only able to coax you further inside after he sat on his bed and wordlessly beckoned to you.

he inwardly cheered to himself when he saw you take the slow steps towards him. he tried to watch with a neutral face as you came closer and closer, your feet creaking with each step on the old wood floorboards. he scooted away from the corner of the bed to make room for you, not bothering to fight the lean in his body when your weight caused a dip in the mattress.

the way you sat perched on the corner of his bed reminded anton of the first time you ever came in his cabin this late at night. it was a night like this one, a gentle breeze that almost got rid of the sticky humidity that hung in the air from the lake. that summer night was before you two had any rules to your arrangement, and long before your boyfriend came along and complicated everything. anton felt himself getting nostalgic at the way you almost hid yourself from him, how it was so obvious you wanted to tell him something but you were still trying how to find a way to say it.

at the end of the day words always failed you, evident in the way you still nervously bit your lip while trying to muster up what you needed to say. anton scooted closer to the small corner of his bed you occupied. you messed with the loose sheet but didn’t move from your spot at all. anton covered the rest of the gap, planting his hand behind your back to give you something to lean on. you leaned to him without hesitation and rested your head on his shoulder. you had been so cautious to touch him since you arrived, sticking to your guns saying i have a boyfriend now, we can’t do this anymore. but all that seemed to be forgotten when you sniffled once more and darted your tongue to wet your dry and cracked lips.

“take your time.” anton said.

you nodded, and silence beyond the slight movement of trees outside took over the space between you and anton.

“he wants me to quit.” you said.

anton moved his head from your shoulder to look you in the face, wiping your tears away with the pads of his thumb.

“why?” he asked.

anton knew why. you knew why. your boyfriend knew why. everyone in the camp knew why. but you still shook your head before letting it hang, sniffling again.

“he just makes everything so complicated.” you said.

anton nodded sympathetically like he wasn’t the reason for your relationship being so hard. anton overheard the arguments on the phone, you candidly showed him the messages of your jealous boyfriend without a second thought. anton had seen the threats to break up over your contact with him and the confusion of your boyfriend about your male bestfriend. anton had also seen your refusal to give him up, which made him proud.

he imagined your boyfriend back home, fuming so much to the point that he yelled at you to quit your job solely because anton was there. he unknowingly pushed you right to anton’s doorstep, sitting on the edge of his bed with your head leaned into him. anton smiled at the thought of your boyfriend seeing you now, but by no means is he a bad guy. he listened to you when you told him that you two could no longer fool around. but anton knew that he would help you feel better by any means—maybe your boyfriend knew it too.

“things don’t have to be complicated when it’s just you and me.” anton reasoned.

he saw your frame shake a little as you laughed. even if his only view of your face was the top of your head he imagined the scoff and the eye roll.

“i’m serious.” anton reached his hand to wrap around your shoulder to bring you closer. “we know eachother better than anyone else.” he said.

“you say that until we date and then we break eachothers hearts and never speak again.” you are still sniffling while you speak, and you bring the end of your shirt to wipe away forming tears.

anton grabs your shoulders and manipulates your body to face him. your are wide eyed and trying to hide your post-crying face from anton. he thinks you look beautiful, but that’s besides the point. he makes sure you’re looking directly at him before he speaks again.

“i’m not asking for anything else with you. being your friend is the only thing i need.” he says honestly.

“you want me to just wait around all year until the summer comes around?” you ask.

you sound skeptical, but he can tell your interest is peaked by the way you get closer to him. he prays that you understand what needs to be said without him having to verbalize it, just like you always have. anton has already tried the relationship thing in the time he was away from you. you haven’t had the chance to realize that everything falls short when it’s not with the person you love the most.

“doesn’t it feel like sometimes you have to explain yourself too much to him?” when you don’t object, anton moves closer to you. “isn’t it exhausting being with someone who doesn’t know you?” anton continues.

anton watches the tears start to form in your glassy eyes again as you wordlessly nod your head. he can only imagine how tired you must be from your little boyfriend.

“don’t you get nervous at the thought of being alone with him because it’s not me?” he asks.

maybe anton is projecting, but it’s hard to tell when you agree with everything he says. you nod your head and reach your hands out to touch his sides. in other cases where hands have been timid yours are sure, even through a whole year of not being in this type of contact with him.

for a long time, the two of you are silent. the only sound is the creaking mattress underneath your sitting bodies as you two run your hands down the other. both of you are lost in the opportunity of being so close again. anton feels your hands grip his shoulders, and you dig your hands in so deep anton almost feels the pain. his hands go to your lower back and apply just enough force to leet you know what he wants to do. he looks down at your thighs, how soft and welcoming they are then travels up to your face. when he finds you already looking at him his chest starts to feel tight.

“you’re my bestfriend, anton.” you say softly.

he nods, feeling something sting in his eyes.

“you’re my bestfriend.” he says back.

you get a little closer, letting your body be pulled by his greedy hands.

“you’re my bestfriend.” you repeat.

anton’s eyes stay locked in on yours, and he puts his full body on the bed.

“you’re my bestfriend.” he says again.

you stands on your knees on the bed and anton does the same. he looks down at you, and a hand goes to cradle your face. the single tear that rolls down your face is fat and glimmers even in the darkness of your room. anton catches it with his thumb, wiping away your tears like any bestfriend would do. your hand reaches to his face, then goes around to the nape of his neck. anton only needs to feel you pull at him once before he closes the distance between the two of you.

anton understood why you gave in the first summer you two came back as camp counselors. he knew better than anyone that romantic relationships were fleeting. he was constantly surrounded by flings and endeavors that crashed and burned. but when he talked to the people in his life about his friends, there was always the common consensus. maybe it was wishful thinking, but anton that your relationship would come to an end. having a man check on your every move was unsustainable, and when you would eventually come to anton for advice he would tell you this.

when you eventually came to your senses and broke up with him you would find someone else, the same way anton would find someone else too. then those relationships would end, or come to a toxic boiling point the same way they always do. but through it all, anton knew that he would have you and you would always have him. being able to be your friend was more prestigious than being among the ranks of the terrible man that broke your heart, that left you crying in front of anton. but as your friend—your bestfriend—he was the only one. he was the only one you came crying to the same way you were with him. the place you held in eachothers heart took up more room than any romantic relationship ever could.

so anton did what any good friend would do and started reaching for your pants the same time you started reaching for his. your hands were pulling at his waistband but anton was quick, his large slender fingers reached past the elastic of your shorts and underneath the fabric of your underwear. you bathed his hand in heat before he reached his hand further down, bumping your clit before making it to your hole. when anton prodded your hole he already felt your slick coat his fingers.

he smiled against your lips, and smiled even more when your hands froze. like you went through a factory reset, your mind instead went to pulling at his shirt instead of his pants. he pulled away from you and let your shaky hands pull his shirt over his head. he traded out his hands inside your pants to fully get hi shirt off. even with his non-dominant hand he knew exactly where you needed him, only because it was you. you were instantly responding to his fingers, whiny and trying to figure out which way to go. anton broke apart from your lips to watch his hand jump underneath the fabric of your shorts. you did the same, eventually burying your head in his chest when the sight became too much.

anton led you to your back first, and placed a kiss on your stomach where your shirt had ridden up. you squirmed from the sensation, and anton made a point to suck on the skin until he knew there would be a mark left behind. he watched your hands flounder, searching desperately for something to do.

“take your pants off.” anton breathed.

instantly your hands were pushing down your pants and your legs were kicking to get them all the way off. when they were discarded over the edge of the bed anton moved his fingers to play with your clit. your shirt rode higher up your body and your back arched. he looked down at your reactions, wondering if you were always this sensitive.

he pulled away from you and backed away up he rested against the headboard of the bed. you followed him all the way there, shimmying your body in between his legs. he smiled and tapped the inside of your thigh to break you out of the brain fog.

“how do you want it?” he asked.

“don’t wanna think about anything.” you said.

anton responded by pulling your body closer to his, then placing his hands on the side of your body to flip you around. you obliged immediately, becoming malleable to anton’s hands. he flipped you onto your stomach then propped your legs underneath you.

“arch for me baby, that’s all you have to do for me.” he mumbled while pressing a hand to your lower back.

anton took it upon himself to do all the work. he spread you with one hand while trailing his wet fingers up your thighs with the other. you shivered for him even if it felt like it was a million degrees in the cabin, and you pushed your hips backwards even if he was giving you what you wanted. anton still took his time, only putting the first finger inside of you after his hand on his ass kept you still.

by the time he had two fingers inside of you, your boyfriend’s contact photo lit up your screen again. anton’s hand that was still having to keep your ass in place reached across his body to grab the phone. he scoffed at the contact picture and the identical emoji that was tacked onto the end of anton’s contact name.

past your phone anton could see your eyes blown out with worry as you weakly waved your hand.

“don’t answer it.” you whined.

“i won’t,” he continued driving his fingers into your contracting heat while he silenced the phone and unlocked it. he saw the notifications of the voicemails lit his face up while your body swayed and rocked with his hands. “you should atleast listen to the voicemails, though.” he said.

before you could respond, anton went to the longest voicemail and put it on speaker. he tossed the phone to land beside your face that was turned away from the mattress. he watched you try so hard to focus while you listened to your boyfriend’s voicemail.

“how are you?” his voice crackled over the speaker of your phone and anton watched you try to cover your face.

anton felt sick hearing the dejected of your boyfriend’s voice.

“he thinks he can yell at my bestfriend then call your phone all teary?” anton’s voice is so soft it barely pierces through the sound of your moans.

“we need to talk this out, seriously.” the voice on your phone said.

anton leaned forward, his body eclipsing yours as he started working in a third finger. your back arched deeper and anton pressed his body against the curve. he kept leaning forward, until his lips were by your ear. he smiled wickedly against the shell before parting his lips.

“he wants to talk it out?” anton questioned.

you shook your head against the bed and preened your hips backwards.

“he’s so mean.” you babble before turning your head to face the mattress.

“so mean.” anton coos back to you.

anton could tell you were getting close. you started trying to fight against his hold on your ass a little more and your cunt started contracting around his fingers erratically. another call from your boyfriend was banished to the back of your mind as you started repeating his name over and over again. he gave you countless hums of acknowledgment, waiting for you to give him the last thing he needed.

“please put it in.” you whined.

anton quickly pulled his fingers from your heat and your form instantly crumbled. you lowered your ass as you caught your breath and as anton pushed his pants down your phone lit up again. this time you responded by pushing the device off the bed entirely, not caring less if your screen shattered on the hardwood floor. anton would’ve laughed, he would’ve teased you for not caring anymore but he was too focused on looking for the condom in his drawer.

“please hurry.” you said weakly.

you started finding your form back while anton reached around and brought the foil packet to your mouth. you clamped your teeth around the perforated mark and when the corner disappeared past your lips anton pulled. the packet opened and anton watched you push the end out past your tongue, the top part of the packaging sitting in the same indent your phone previously was. something about this was insanely poetic, he was sure of it. the way your inhibitions crumbled for him and the way you looked back before lifting your body from the mattress.

you stood on your knees again and rid yourself of your shirt and bra. anton watched your back become exposed to him as he worked the latex onto his dick impatiently securing it in place before pressing his chest to your back. with one hand wrapped around your body to hold you in place and the other leading his dick to your cunt he was in heaven. the sound of your phone vibrating on the ground was the last thing on his mind.

the bed was shaky underneath your shared weight. anton’s body enveloped yours again, and the dips in the mattress caused by his knees made your body sway. he used it as an excuse to hold you a little tighter, to bring his head to rest on your shoulder as his tip prodded your ass and then your hole. your hands grabbed his bicep and you shamelessly dug your hands into his skin.

“anton. please.” you plead racked through your body.

anton let go of his dick and his hand went to your hips instead. he pushed forward the same time he pulled you down, and you clenched around him before your walls fully loosened. anton’s hips kissed your ass when he was fully inside, and you threw your head back to his shoulder as you adjusted. anton felt your heartbeat and the walls the same, he was sure that his heart hammering against your back matched it too.

“i missed you.” anton murmured.

neither of you were sure what exactly he missed, if he was talking about sex or something entirely too intimate. whatever it was, all you knew was that he had it—and when he pulled his hips back to push back in he got it again.

anton placed kisses to your neck and back as your lips parted from the feeling. anton wanted to get lost in the pleasure himself, but he knew he had a job to do, he had to show you how good of a bestfriend he was. so even though he his body becoming taut he had to make sure you were finished first. he lifted his head from your shoulder to kiss your cheek and then your parted lips that were to distracted to kiss him back. he watched you try and form a sentence and smiled against your cheek.

“are you close?” he asked.

you nodded against his shoulder and turned your head to face him. your lips closed into a pout, and he felt your body getting weaker around him. his hand that was on your waist pressed into your stomach where he swore he could feel himself. anton’s hand drifted down to your swollen nub and he felt you trying to fall forward. he readjusted his grip across your body, and you gasped again at being manhandled.

“not too much right?” anton said it sarcastically, already knowing the answer.

“i like when you hold me.” you answered.

anton hummed against your throat and started working his fingers faster against your clit. your hands that were holding his held him tighter, so much to the point anton thought you were going to break the skin.

“keep going.” anton’s mattress creaked underneath your weight as you shifted on your knees. “i’m close.”

when your hands started reaching backwards to pull at anton’s hair that’s when he finally acknowledged the pain. in the moment he hissed from pain and loosened his grip on you, you were able to finally let your body fall forward on the mattress. anton followed after you, and you were wedged between the mattress and his large body. anton pressed his full body weight against you, and you had no where left to go. you didn’t want to be anywhere else and you let him know that through your moans that increased in volume. he lost himself in the new angle and the way you felt underneath him. his legs were on either side of yours, pressing them together. you were somehow tighter, causing anton to thrust into you harder and harder.

“so good.” he whispered into your shoulder blade.

“so big.” you whined.

anton saw your white knuckle grip on the sheets when he pulled his head away from your back. he saw your entire body move with each thrust. he clasped his hands over yours after tracing the lines of your knuckles with his eyes. you fit into him perfectly in his hands and you were soft under him. everything about you fit perfectly wit him.

“so close.” anton said before kissing your sweaty cheek.

you nodded against the mattress and started arching your back against anton’s hips. he was able to hit you even deeper than before.

he could feel his heart almost burst in his chest.

“i love you.”

he couldn’t lie and say he didn’t mean to say it. him leaning forward to whisper it directly into your ear was filled with intention. your body froze as a reaction, then anton felt your walls contract around his dick as your body pressed deeper into the mattress.

“i love you too.” you whined, words prolonged and ending with a gasp.

anton continued fucking you through your orgasm as you became a sobbing mess underneath him. it wasn’t long before he was pressing his sweaty face into your back as he released into his condom, shaking and giving you a few final thrusts as your body went from being tense to completely limp.

he pulled out and settled to your deeper. your breathing and heartbeats were synced, anton reveled in that before rolling off of you to your side. you still were face down in the mattress, back raising and lowering as you tried to pull yourself together. when you started moving anton put his hands on you again, turning your body around so you were facing him. a;ready your eyes were closing, the drool down the side of your face and the fresh tear tracks drying on your skin. he thought you were beautiful, he smiled while wiping away the mess with his hands, coming forward to place a light kiss on the apples of your cheeks. you hummed constantly before scooting towards him and anton took the initiative to pull you into his chest. you burrowed into him and he wrapped his arms around you, placing a kiss on your forehead before closing his eyes.

anton’s blaring alarm clock pulled him from his sleep. hearing the harsh sound made him draw in a quick breath. he shot up from the bed like a vampire and pulled in a gasp like he was coming up from the water. his heart thudded in his chest and his brain pulsed in his skull as the rhythmic blaring only got worse. after a moment of trying to wet his dry mouth he flailed his arm to the side, turning off the clock and almost knocking it from his bedside table in the process.

when his brain fog cleared and the alarm was finally off, anton realized that the only thing left in his room was him. he heard the songbirds that made a nest in the tree next to his cabin and he heard the passing sound of kids yelling and running but he didn’t hear you move across his sheets.

anton for a moment believed that he imagined you showing up at his door. he must’ve had a vivid dream of you sitting on the corner edge of his bed with your body caved in on itself and you looking at him with fat tears rolling down your cheeks. but anton knew he’d never have a dream about you in pain—he had his fair share of dreams about your eyes filled with tears and your body on his bed, and the occasional dream of you two coming back to this camp in the future, maybe with a family of your own or as friends—but never a dream about you in pain. so when he needed the last bit of proof that last night actually happened, he turned towards your unofficial side of his bed.

one of the best things about the night after was that you always left a trace. being with you always left a taste in his mouth and a smell that lingered on his sheets and clothes. anton wasn’t sure if you left behind pieces of you on purpose, but he was grateful regardless. anton ran his hands over the cold crater in his sheets and saw where you pulled his covers off of your body before you left. anton wondered if you left smelling like him or if you leaned over to take one last whiff of him the same way he did to your side of the bed now.

his mind fully woke up the same time everything came rushing back. first it was the tiny things anton remembered—the way you arms rested on his shoulders and how your hands locked together behind his head. anton planting his feet into the wooden floor of his cabin as you walked over to him. the feelings of your soft skin that covered your spine and how it was a perfect path all the way down. anton could still feel the warm air of your gasps against his neck and down his back and the feeling of your chest pressing into his graphic tshirt—if he focused hard enough on his mattress anton swore he could see your naked body with his covers on you haphazardly. if he closed his eyes and focused he could hear your moans and callings of his name in his ear.

following right behind the details were the big events. trailing behind anton’s recollection of your teeth pressing into his neck anton remembered your boyfriend calling, and after he remembered you weaving your fingers in between his he recalled your confession that he wanted you to quit. he remembered all of your confessions last, how they tumbled out right before the end and you both were asleep before you could talk about it. anton’s head darted around the space of his room as if he could still see the words in the air. instead he came face to face with the harsh light that only made the stress headache and the woke-up-to-fast migraine worse. anton covered his face and audibly groaned, but seared into the back his eyelids was your face when anton told you he loved you.

this was entirely too much to process at 8:23 in the morning.

just as the shock of everything was beginning to set in, anton heard the three loud bangs at the door. he waited for the fourth—anton actually propped himself up on his knees and silently he prayed for the fourth knock—but instead all he heard was the sound of a man on the other side of his door clearing their throat.

“anton. are you awake?”

anton got out of his bed so fast his vision spotted hearing minho’s voice. he thought for a moment he was going to kick the door in and discipline him for missing the morning meeting. anton cleared his throat as he stood in only his boxers. he may not be ready, but he was awake.

“i’m awake, sir.” anton answered

“your campers are done with lunch in thirty minutes.” anton looked at his alarm clock and realized he was running extremely late. “make sure you have all of the swimming equipment ready at the lake.” minho ordered.

“yes sir.”

anton got dressed in a haste, still pulling his camp counselor shirt over his head as he walked towards the shed that housed the swimming equipment. by the time he made it to the tiny brick building he already had sweat beading his hairline. the inside of the building felt like a brick oven. anton was being baked alive as he grabbed the life jackets and threw them into the wheelbarrow. anton was in such a rush he didn’t even react seeing the tiny spider in the cobwebs by the tiny window. his only concern was getting out to the bearable heat as fast as possible.

after leaving he took a deep breath and checked his watch. fifteen minutes until his campers would be at the lake. anton didn’t even have time to complain about the heat of the brick oven before he had to lift the wheelbarrow and head towards the lake.

the sweat that beaded his hairline began falling down his face. even if it was a downwards path to the water anton was still sweating from the exertion. occasionally he’d have to set the wheelbarrow down to bring the end of his shirt to pat the sweat away before the salt found its way to his eye. he pushed the wheelbarrow with the life jackets over the hill before mumbling to himself that the camp really needed a better way to transport the life jackets.

when anton made it over the hill and the ridgewood lake was finally in view, anton knew it was you immediately sitting at the end of the wharf. even if your back was facing him and you were wearing the same uniform as everyone else. since he seemed to be admitting things lately he could pick you out from a mile away, or he could imagine you to the point of fruition. in a cartoonish way anton even believed could tell you apart from your evil twin. you pointing at another you saying she’s the imposter! get her! anton would know which one was the real you by asking who fell first (the real you would say it was you but anton fell harder). he focused on your back while pushing the equipment down the hill, and wondered if the sound of the wheel hitting the rocks would catch your attention.

after setting the swimming equipment near the water, he slowly started making his way down the wharf. you were still unsuspecting, or maybe you already knew that anton would’ve come to you like this. there had to have been a reason why you were conveniently at the lake the same time anton had his scheduled swimming class. there also had to be a reason why anton was so nervous approaching you. the water gleamed and moved gently around the two of you, the tiny ripples reflected the sun. anton made his way past the kayaks tethered to the dock and deeper into the lake to get closer to you. he was still dry and his weight creaked on the wood of the wharf but it was like he was hovering towards you.

you still didn’t turn around when anton’s finally set next to you. anton peered at your face nervously. your eyes were closed and you faced the open water, anton almost felt like he didn’t exist.

what should he say? he opened his mouth and closed it twice, licking his lips after the second time. anton propped himself up by pressing his hands into the rough wood then clasped them together in his hands. you still kept your eyes closed and faced forward, only difference was that a smile was etched across your face.

“i don’t want to talk about last night.” you said, eyes still closed.

anton nodded even though you couldn’t see him and he sighed contently even though he felt conflicted. he wanted to pointlessly pry, he needed to quell the overwhelming feeling in the pit of his stomach that you were still with your boyfriend. he selfishly needed to hear that he was the only man in your life even if you only saw him nine weeks out of the year.

“have things changed?” anton asked quietly.

he took you scooting your body closer to his as a life preserver. when you finally opened your eyes and turned to face him anton still felt like he was drowning.

“do you want them to?” you asked.

the light bounced from the water shined on your face. the caustics from the tiny waves mapped across your face, changing and constantly moving. anton clasped his hands tighter in his lap.

“no.” anton said.

simple and straight to the point, but so much was left unsaid. he didn’t want to think about not seeing you next year, he wasn’t sure if he could face the truth that you were still very much with your boyfriend. but you sighed contently and leaned your head to rest on his shoulder, and put one of your hands over his. anton instantly unclasped his hands and clutched yours desperately. you sighed again—maybe you did break up with him.

“then they haven’t.”

anton swore he could hear the sound of kids coming towards the lake. he heard the rippling waves and the kayaks rocking on the water behind him. he heard you draw in another breath and scoot even closer to his body. he looked at the sun reflect on the lake as he scooted closer to you too. you rested your head on his shoulder and just like that, a million things were said without a single word.

“you’re always going to be my bestfriend.” you said quietly, still looking at the water.

neither of you decided to read too much into your words—you two have your entire lives to decipher the meaning.

#commissionz #01zfan: anton #anton smut #riize smut

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girl-of-many-fandoms · 11 months ago

Text

Ocean Blue Eyes // 2

Pairing: Percy Jackson x Reader

Warning: none

Part 1 Part 2

MASTERLIST

---

From afar Percy could easily make out the silhouette of the girl who unknowingly stole his heart. He couldn't take his eyes off of her as she sat on a log staring out into the horizon.

The cool breeze caressed her skin sending a shiver up her spine. Y/N regretted leaving her zip-up jacket in her cabin but she didn't initially plan to sit here this long. However, when the sun began to set she couldn't leave without taking in the beauty of the sky. Hues of yellow and gold painted the sky as the sun slowly said goodbye to Camp Half-Blood.

It's been a few days since her and Percy shared a moment together a couple feet away from where she currently sat. She vividly remembers the way he stared at her, his touch, the way his soft lips felt against hers.

Percy has been trying to find a way to talk to Y/N. He wasn't sure if he had made the right choice kissing his friend or if he blew his shot entirely. He saw her shiver once more and removed his grey hoodie before making his way over to her.

Y/N jumped slightly at the feeling of something being draped over her shoulders. She didn't have to guess whose jacket now laid on her shoulders as the familiar and comforting scent of her friend filled her nostrils.

"Hey you."

"Hey stranger."

Percy joined her on the log and for a moment they didn't say a word, they just sat in each other’s presence, both trying to figure out how to approach the elephant in the room.

"So uh-"

"I'm so-"

The pair giggled at their attempt at sparking a conversation. The blue eyed demigod gestured for her to go first.

"Ladies first." He said.

"Well...uhh..how have you been?"

"Seriously?" Percy quirked an eyebrow at her with a smirk on his face making Y/N’s cheeks heat up. Y/N nodded her head causing Percy to laugh.

"Fine. For the past couple days I've been trying to figure out if I may have eternally screwed up our friendship and I might have since you've avoided me since then."

"I wasn't avoiding you." Y/N immediately got defensive but Percy proceeded to list out the many occasions she avoided him.

"Oh really? You haven't jogged past my cabin since then like you normally would, you've changed your route. I tried to have lunch with you yesterday but you took off when you saw me heading towards you. You also ditched training with me to train with Clarisse."

Truth be told he was hurt. Hurt by the fact that she chose to avoid him at all costs. Y/N turned to face him and he did the same, their knees now touched each other.

"I only kept my distance because I didn't know how this conversation would go. I wasn't ready to hear you say that you made a mistake by kissing me and that we should remain friends, isn't that what you're going to say?" Although she didn’t show it, she was anxious. She didn't know what words were going to come out of his mouth but she was betting on him regretting the kiss.

"For someone so smart, you're so clueless sometimes." Percy's lips turned up into a smile, watching as confusion etched its way onto her face.

"What?"

Without giving her a chance to think about what's happening, Percy cupped both her cheeks with his hands and pulled her in for a kiss. Y/N didn't hesitate to kiss him back as she gently held onto his forearm.

This kiss was much more intense compared to the last one as they both tried to pour all their emotions into it. Somewhere along the line they both remembered they needed air and slowly broke the kiss. Percy pressed his forehead against hers and interlaced their fingers together.

"Did that say I want us to be just friends?"

"No, not at all."

Percy kissed the top of her head as she snuggled closed into him. He didn't know where this would take them but he knew for sure that he would do anything for the girl in his arms.

As for Y/N, she too didn't know what the future holds but she was certain that they'd face whatever comes their way together.

#percy jackson x y/n #percy jackson x you #percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson

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writingthroughmyass · 3 months ago

Text

Service Animal (Part one)

My mans Logan Howlett X Reader (afab)

Part two here

WARNING: This is soooo self insert it's not even funny. I get weird migraines that present like absent seizures and thought it would be nice to get a warning beforehand by my favourite babygirl Logan (like my own personal service animal). This is gonna be in three parts, it's mostly finished and ends in smooshing so be ready for that ;)

UPDATE: turns out my migraines are actually mini strokes :)

The after effects of using your power was kicking your ass.

In a daze, you made it to your private room and went straight to your bathroom. You felt the nausea rising up in your throat and quickly opened the toilet lid to throw up.

The multiple alternate realities of what could have happened tonight flashed before your eyes. Ororo, Jean, Scott, Logan, all collapsed on the floor, dead. Their screams played in a relentless loop in your head; you were dissociating badly. Your surroundings melted away until there was nothing but the countless ways they could have died if you hadn't bent reality to avoid it.

Always. It's always like this.

Gradually, you begin to return to your body, only to realise there was someone in the room with you, holding your hair back.

Terrified, your body snapped up from its kneeling position to face the intruder.

“Woah, hey, it's just me. Calm down.”

“L-Logan?” you slurred, suddenly feeling self conscious of the smell of your breath.

“I knocked and called out but you didn't answer. So I came in to check on you.”

You eyed him, feeling suspicious of how out of character this was for him.

“Why are you looking at me like I'm lying? I'm not totally heartless,” he said defensively.

“Why'd you come in the first place to see me though? I thought you were pissed with me,” you grumble.

When you'd overdone it with your powers, Logan threw a hissy fit and yelled at you for going too far. While you knew it was out of care, it still rankled you that he was acting as if you were a child. You knew what you were doing.

“I… just had a bad feeling,” he said quietly. “Y'know how I've got my heightened senses. I could tell something was off with you.”

“I'm fine. Just need to rest. This is normal for me.”

You turned around to the bathroom sink and grabbed your toothbrush. You gave your teeth and tongue a quick clean, wanting to just wash all the blood off your body so you could sleep.

It felt like you had a raging hangover from drinking Everclear all night.

When you turned from the sink you noticed Logan was still there.

“Uh… need something? I wanna get ready for bed and pass out.”

“Yeah, I need to know you're okay,” he says.

“I told you, I'm fine. I'm going to shower so please leave.”

Your patience was wearing thin. But you were also aware that some of it was nervousness coming out as aggression. You couldn't deny the attraction you felt towards him, although his attitude left much to be desired. His behaviour tonight was quite frankly really sweet and it was psyching you out. You were already in the midst of losing touch with reality and his actions were so contradictory to his usual self that it was causing you a psychotic break.

“You're not listening to me,” he ground out, losing some of his own patience. “I'm telling you that something is wrong with you.”

You stared silently at him, mouth slightly hanging open.

“Okay, that came out the wrong way.” He was ruffling his hair in agitation. Cute. “What I'm saying is- I'm… ah…”

“Please, Logan, I just want a shower so I can go to bed…”

“Look, I'll just wait in your room and I'll leave once you're in bed safe, ‘kay,” he says, turning to the door and walking out, shutting it behind himself.

Fuck.

You just wanted to be alone so you could have a good cry. You were incredibly confused about what in the world was going on but now you were really getting scared. And Logan's words were not helping.

What if he's right and this time your connection with reality has been completely severed? But what else were you supposed to do? Let them all die? Even with your special training with Charles, your power was so unruly and chaotic that it was terrifying. You had to be careful or there would be no way back.

You got undressed and turned on the shower, stepping inside. It was only once you were under the hot stream of water that you realised you'd left your pyjamas in your bedroom. You groaned aloud. Fuck, now you'd have to walk in front of Logan in nothing but a towel. Why the fuck was he here? You wished he'd just leave.

You watched the dried blood wash away from your skin, turning the floor of your shower a bright red.

You felt your stomach drop and your head turned fuzzy. The sound of your shower disappeared. The safety of your surroundings melted away.

Scott, his eyes gouged out from his head. Ororo’s limbs crumpled every which way, her eyes clouded over not because of her powers but because she was lifeless. Jean, her neck holding on to her body by a thread, her cranium blasted open and her brain dripping down her face.

Logan, on the ground, ripped to shreds, his Adamantium bones showing through his torn flesh. And the wounds weren't healing.

It was always like this. As if you were being punished for playing god. It was as if all the horrible realities you prevented from happening still lived on but solely in your mind, driving you insane. It left scars of trauma on your psyche, Charles had told you. So you had to be careful in how you used your powers or you may become completely untethered from reality. A fate worse than death.

Vaguely, you could hear yourself mumbling and gasping and swallowing loudly, trying to find some kind of equilibrium in the mess of your mind.

You were trying desperately to connect back with your body but at the same time you didn't want to because it only meant having to fight this same battle over and over again.

Seeing your friends die before your very eyes in hundreds of thousands of different ways, experiencing each traumatic story to its conclusion. Only to have it all unravel into a reality where none of it happened, but the whiplash makes you doubt this reality too. It's always too good to be true. You feel it in your bones that you don't deserve this. That the way you twist reality is wrong and one day it'll catch up to you in the worst possible way.

You feel water running down your face and remember that you're in the shower. You try to ground yourself and come back to your body. You hear the water splashing, feel the ground beneath your feet, the solid embrace around you.

You try to move but you can't. Finally, you snap fully to your body. Your mind is groggy, feeling like you'd been hit by a truck. But there's the unmistakable warmth surrounding you, dense and as unyielding as brick.

Your face is roughly yanked upwards and you open your eyes.

“Fuck, finally! Are you alright?”

You stare blearily, mouth open and dry from the adrenaline that had been pumping through your body just moments ago.

Bright hazel eyes. Huh. So pretty. You'd never noticed.

You realise you're not supporting your own weight. You're finally aware that Logan has you in an embrace, holding your body up, one hand around your waist and the other on your jaw as he looks into your face. The water on your face isn't from the shower, you realise. It's your tears.

“Bloody hell, please say something,” he says angrily. You feel some of your own anger flare up in response. What's his problem?

“Fuck,” you croak.

You feel his chest vibrate against yours as he laughs, suddenly aware that you're as naked as the day you were born and this man is fully clothed standing in your shower, getting his white singlet wet. Giving you a bear hug…

Your brain short circuits as you try to come up with words, feeling your whole body heat with embarrassment.

“W-what are you doing in here?” you manage to slur.

“Helping your ass,” he says roughly. “Can you stand?”

Fuck, good question. Can I stand??

“C-close your eyes first,” you demand.

“Bit late to be feeling shy now don't you think?” he teases with a wink.

“Just close ‘em!” you yell at him.

He laughs before complying.

You extricate yourself from his arms, turning off the shower, then navigate carefully around him to exit the cubicle. You grab a towel and cover yourself, making a mental note to grab a clean one later since this one was definitely dirty now.

“Okay, open your eyes and get out, please.”

He turns to look at you.

“Don't think that's a good idea, bub.”

“And why is that?” you huff impatiently.

“What if you collapse in the shower again?” he says matter of factly.

“I've been having these things for a long time. I've managed to survive so far so don't stress about it.”

“It's different now though, isn't it? You've been having these for a long time, you said so yourself, and they're only getting worse instead of better.”

You sigh heavily in frustration. You hated that he was right.

“So what exactly are you suggesting?”

Your heart was beating like crazy. He better not suggest what you think he was going to suggest.

“I'm sure old Chuckie boy wouldn't mind lending you his shower chair for the night,” he smirked.

You laughed out loud despite the tension in the room. He always managed to make you laugh.

“Yeah, I'm just going to wake up an old man in the middle of the night to ask if I can borrow his shower chair,” you joked, lightly slapping him on the shoulder.

He laughed along with you then you both shared a few moments of comfortable silence. Only for him to break it with-

“My other suggestion is to shower with me so I can make sure you don't faint and hurt yourself.”

You stared at him distrustfully.

“Hey, look, I'm not being a pervert, it's just the only solution I can think of on the fly,” he placates, hands raised as if to say I'm innocent and unarmed.

“Right…”

You stopped to think for a second, your muddled mind trying to make sense of the situation.

It made you especially uncomfortable that you didn't exactly have your full mental faculties about you.

But Logan was a good friend. You'd fought beside him many times before and you saw that you could trust him. But… he was still a man. A man much bigger and stronger than you.

“Can I trust you?” you asked falteringly. What a stupid idea to ask the opinion of someone fully in power over you.

“I promise I won't do anything without you wanting it. This is entirely your choice.”

You looked him in the eyes, trying to find a trace of falsehood in them. But you only saw honeyed eyes, dripping with conviction. The same conviction you'd seen many times before when he was protecting those he loved.

You felt yourself feel a little calmer.

“Okay… but you better not break your promise. Or I'll sick Charles and his shower chair on you.”

“I won't. I just want to keep you safe,” he said in a low, serious voice.

You felt a fluttering behind your ribs. Fuck… I'm about to shower with this incredibly attractive asshole.

“Okay… you get in first,” you said.

“Yes, ma'am,” he said a little too cheerily.

You turned around to give him privacy to undress. You heard the rustle of his clothes then a thump as he dropped them on the floor of your bathroom.

Should've known he'd be a slob…

You heard the shower turn on and you braced yourself for what was to come next.

You turned towards the shower, keeping your head down and eyes averted. You removed your towel and stepped into the shower, still not looking at Logan and ignoring his presence, which was hard to do in your little shower. Thankfully he was turned away respectfully.

You stood behind him, turned away from his body. You took your soap and began to lather it over yourself as you usually did when you showered.

“Would you like a hand with your back?” Logan spoke up.

You paused as you weighed up the question in your mind.

“Sure,” you said quietly, trying to keep yourself calm.

This is totally normal. We're just friends having a shower. Together.

You turned your back and heard him applying soap to his hands. Slowly, gently, as if you were made of glass, he began to rub your back, starting with your shoulders. You felt yourself give an involuntary shiver.

“Are you cold? Do you need the water a bit hotter?” he asked you.

“No, it's fine. The temperature is okay with you?”

“Yeah, bub, just perfect.”

His hands felt massive against your back. He massaged your neck for a few seconds before moving down your shoulder blades towards your middle back.

“Did-did you want me to do your back too?” you asked, trying to hide how nervous you were.

“Since you're offering, sure,” he said gruffly. You turned towards him at the same moment he turned away from you, unfortunately catching a glimpse of his insane fucking abs, but thankfully managing not to make eye contact.

You soaped up your hands and began with his neck, trying not to notice how thick and muscular his traps were.

God… this is hell but also heaven.

You ran your hands across his ridiculously broad shoulders and down his middle back, avoiding going too low lest you caress his stupid, tight ass.

“I'm going to wash my hair, okay?” you told him, unsure of why you were asking permission.

“Don't know why you're asking my permission.” Fuck. You were being weird. “But I can do the same right?” he responded, holding in laughter.

You felt your face go hot.

“D-do what you want,” you said petulantly.

You took the shampoo bottle, squeezing what you needed for yourself before handing it to him over his shoulder, which he thankfully kept turned to you in respect.

You both washed your hair in silence. You already felt a bit better. You dreamily thought of your bed as you rinsed the shampoo from your hair.

You then grabbed the conditioner and squeezed some into your hand.

“Need the conditioner?” you asked Logan.

“What for?” he asked, confused.

“For your hair, duh.”

“Nah, I'm good. Haven't had to use it so far in my life, won't start now. Need a hand with washing your hair?”

You knew he was trying to be helpful. But it felt so, so wrong. Like overstepping your relationship as friends. But then again… would you ever get the chance again to have an incredibly sexy man wash your hair for you?

“Sure,” you said stiffly.

Silence, then his hand moved around you to grab the bottle from you.

“Ah-” you already had some conditioner in your hand. You were about to tell him but decided to keep quiet as he worked on your hair.

His fingers… so thick and strong yet gentle through your hair, over your scalp. You couldn't help but to close your eyes and enjoy the sensation.

It was over too soon and he stepped away from you again. You tipped your head to rinse your hair, giving your face a quick scrub with water while you were at it; fuck your skin routine, you were going straight to bed.

“I'm going to step out first,” you informed him.

He grunted in reply and you stepped from the shower, grabbing two clean towels from your bathroom cupboard. You covered yourself with one and half turned your body to Logan, gaze still averted from his direction.

“Here ya go,” you tried to say cheerily, offering the towel to him.

“Thanks,” he said and grabbed it from your hand. You quickly moved to the door.

“Wait until I say you can come in,” you said before closing the door behind you.

Fuuuuucccckkkkk.

This was not helping you to relax at all.

You dried yourself quickly and threw your pyjamas on.

“I'm done!” you called through the door.

He stepped out with his towel wrapped around his stupid, slutty waist. You could see his happy trail adorning his abs. His enormous pecs, his dog tags resting in the dip of his gorgeous chest.

“Hey, bub, my eyes are up here,” he teases.

You swallow thickly and glare at his stupid, smirking face.

“Have I ever told you I hate you?” you retort, only succeeding in making him laugh.

“How are you feeling now?” he says softly, suddenly serious.

“I'm… exhausted. I usually sleep a lot after an episode.”

He nods in understanding.

“You'll be okay if I leave?”

This gives you pause. If you were being honest to yourself, you'd say, “Please stay. I don't want to be alone tonight.”

But you weren't honest with yourself.

“Thanks for looking out for me, Logan. I really appreciate it and sorry for putting you out. I'll be okay. You can go to bed now if you want.”

He looked at you in silence. He stepped towards you, so close that you had to look up to keep eye contact. You could feel the warmth radiating from him. Fuck he runs hot.

“You mean it, right? You're okay to be alone?”

You stared at him, a little bit dumbfounded. Was he able to read minds or something?

“Yes, I'll be fine. I'll be in bed so I can't exactly fall,” you chuckled.

He didn't laugh with you. Only watched you carefully.

“Okay. I'll respect what you say you want,” he says carefully.

Again, this is so out of character for him that you second guess yourself whether you're in reality or not.

You watch as he turns to the bathroom and grabs his clothes from the floor then goes towards the door to the hall.

“Hey-w-wait-y-you're not going out like that are you?” you stutter in disbelief.

He turns back to you.

“What else am I going to do?” he asks incredulously.

Clueless.

“Put your clothes back on,” you retort.

“Ew, you're a bit of a slob, aren't you? They're dirty and covered with blood and who knows what or who else.”

You deadpanned.

“What if… what if you stayed here for the night?” you blurted out without thinking. You flinch at your own words.

Logan pauses with his hand on the door knob.

“I don't exactly have my pyjamas here with me,” he says slowly.

“I've already seen and touched you naked. What's the difference?” you hear yourself say.

What the fuck am I saying?

“I-I mean, surely I have something that can fit you,” you amend quickly. His face seems to go slack in surprise.

“Wow. You really want it, huh?” he smirks at you.

You ignore the heat that overtakes your whole body.

“N-never mind! Fuck off already,” you say sourly.

“Hey, I'm just joking,” he laughs. “I can definitely stay if it helps you feel better.” He smiles at you and you feel yourself melt a little bit.

“It… it would. Help me feel better, I mean.”

Having him near you would help remind you that this is real, you justify.

“Alright then,” he nods to you. “Some clothes would be great.”

“Ah, sure, give me a second.”

You quickly go to your wardrobe to locate the loosest pair of pants you own. He'll just have to sleep shirtless, there's no way you have a top that will fit over his broad shoulders.

You find a dark grey pair of trackies and turn back to him.

“Try these.”

“Thanks,” he says as he takes it from your hand.

As he moves back to the bathroom you jump into bed to wait. Your bed never felt so fucking good.

You've barely settled under the covers when Logan reappears from the bathroom, his hair still wet and dripping down his neck. You do your best not to stare.

He moves towards you and lifts the covers to slip into bed with you.

This is just a sleepover, you tell yourself. Like when you have a friend over for the night.

Logan slots himself into your bed alongside you and you become suddenly aware of how small your double bed is. The frame creaks loudly from the weight of him and his Adamantium bones.

“Comfy?” you ask.

He turns in the bed so he's facing you. A smile slowly makes its way to his face and you find you can't breathe for a second.

“Yeah, definitely,” he murmurs.

“Alright, sweet, g’night then,” you say quickly, turning away from him to still your beating heart. Fuck, I hope he can't hear my heart right now.

“Are you sure you're ready to sleep? Your heart is beating pretty fast,” he points out cooly.

Mother fucker.

“So… you have heightened senses right? Kind of.. like a dog?” I'm not thinking straight, why am I trying to piss him off?

“Thought you were going to sleep,” he grunted. The sound of his gravelly voice did something to you. But you ignored it.

“It just kind of reminds me of those service dogs, y'know the ones that can sense when their owner is going to have a seizure? I mean, I know I don't have seizures exactly, but I guess it presents sort of like one.”

“What are you trying to say?” he asks gruffly. He doesn't like it when people compare him to dogs. You're just grateful you can't see the look on his face right now.

“I'm just wondering how you can tell? What is it exactly that you're sensing? It's always interested me,” you say honestly.

He grunts again and goes quiet before answering.

“I can smell it. Can't even explain what it actually smells like. But that's how I know, although it isn't always accurate.”

“That's really interesting.” And you mean it. It really is interesting… although the implications concerning his sense of smell have you a little bit paranoid…

“So that's why I'm telling you to listen to me when I fucking tell you to stop with your powers. You could've killed yourself tonight,” he grinds out, anger in his voice.

“Logan… you need to understand where I'm coming from. You all died tonight. Like literally, right before my very eyes, you were all dead. What do you expect me to do?”

You feel tears pricking your eyes, the lump in your throat is choking you.

“I… I can't talk about this right now okay?” you tell him, trying to keep your voice steady.

“Okay… okay, I'm sorry,” his voice softens. “Please, just get some sleep, okay? Guide dog’s orders.”

And just like that you're laughing again, feeling a tear running down your cheek to your pillow. You were so grateful to have him in your life. You were also grateful he couldn't see you crying right now.

“Alright, g'night, puppy,” you tease.

“‘Night,” he says softly.

A minute passes and you can already feel yourself starting to drift off. You smile to yourself, knowing that you have your own personal “service animal” to keep you safe tonight.

#logan howlett #logan howlett imagine #wolverine x reader #logan howlett x reader #wolverine imagine #wolverine #Logan being cute and worried and caring uwu #I saw dp and wolverine and fell in love dont know why it took me seeing his hairy 55 year old abs for this to happen #I never crushed on this man during xmen but idk he fucking got to me in that movie ok #i stan a guilt ridden man with low self esteem put your penis inside me right now #ass writes stuff

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maiiuelle · 7 months ago

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as we all know, jj is not a fan of cops. so, you can imagine how angry he’d be getting a call that you’re locked up.

it's sort of a game of telephone actually. you called kiara from the jail, pleading with her not to tell jj knowing how he'd react. but, with her parents grounding her from any more involvement in pogue business, she didn't really have a choice. so, she told pope, who immediately told jj.

luckily, your offense wasn't serious, you'd been having a bad day already and decided to go on an innocent bike ride. jj was kind enough to have slipped a joint into your backpack for an occasion like this, which you happily lit up to get your mind off of everything. your mistake was riding through the rich side of the island, some kook must've seen you and called the station to complain about who-knows-what, and the smell of weed sticking to your skin made it easier for shoupe to find you. you complied, letting him haul you in the back of his cruiser while he lectured you about drug possession and public intoxication. must be a slow day.

now you're sat in the lobby of the police station, hands bound together in metal cuffs, resting in your lap. you're barely high anymore, the light feeling in your head replaced by irritation. you hear jj before you see him, and the sound of his booming voice makes your heart sink.

"where d'ya even have her? huh, plumb?" you squeeze your eyes shut, the heat of his anger growing closer and closer.

"you need to relax, maybank." she hisses, rounding the corner before him and stopping at the sight of you. she crosses her arms, almost amused. "she's right here."

your blonde boyfriend stomps in after her, wide eyes searching the room before landing on you. he's disheveled, clearly having been in a rush to get here. you don't know what to do other than to stare back at him doe eyed. deputy plumb comes to your side and hoists you to stand with a hand on your arm, spinning you roughly so she can start to unlock the cuffs.

“alright—let’s make this quick.” shoupe’s voice draws everyone’s attention, a stack of papers in his hands that he offers to jj. “i’m doin’ her a favor, just a written warning.”

jj snatches the papers from him, superficially looking them over and then using them to point at the deputy. “you’re outta your mind, shoupe. i can’t believe—“

“i suggest—“ shoupe cuts him off, and jj’s jaw clenches. “—you kids get on home now. we’ve got some real work to do.”

deputy plumb lets you go, clipping the cuffs to her belt and nudging you toward jj. “and keep the dope on the cut.” you look back at her, keeping your mouth shut as you slink over to jj’s side.

“can count on kildare P.D., ain’t that right?” jj keeps his eyes on the officers, face red with anger as he adjusts his hat and starts walking toward the door. you stick close to him, feeling better attached to his side even if he’s angrier than you’ve ever seen him. “pickin’ on teenage girls — real tough, shoupe. pretty sure y’all got bigger fish to fry, maybe focus on that.”

on the way out of the station, he’s silent. he doesn’t look at you or say a word until you reach the twinkie, where john b is sitting patiently in the driver’s seat. you feel real bad now, realizing you brought everyone into this mess that you could have easily avoided. jj stops at the front of the van, and you follow suit, anxiously biting your lip.

“jayj, i really didn’t mean to cause a whole—“

“nobody’s upset, sugar. relax.” he takes a second to look you over, running his hands down your arms and scanning over your body. “didn’t rough you up in there, did they?”

you shake your head. “oh, no. i’m fine.”

“good.” he brushes your hair over your shoulder, letting his hand linger by your jaw to pull you into a kiss. “least y’got a little street cred now, huh?” his calloused thumb rubs across your cheek, and a warm smile spreads across his face. you’re relieved, in the end really grateful that your boyfriend came to save the day.

˚❀˚

#my inbox is open! ‧₊˚.#jj maybank #obx #jj maybank x reader #jj #jj maybank drabble #jj maybank headcanon #jj headcanon #jj x reader #jj maybank gif

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alex-died-again · 4 months ago

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"why didn't you tell me?"

Theodore nott x reader

You and Theodore had been best friends since childhood. You only lived a couple houses down but you guys spent almost every night together. You guys had always stayed close, even after you guys started going to Hogwarts, Theo never left your side. You guys always knew there was a little bit of a crush between you two but nothing had ever happened

But then after his mom died during 6th year, he changed. You tried to be there for him but he wouldn't let you. He started ditching you more and more, he would avoid you at all cost. After weeks of getting treated like this, you were sitting in the common room talking to draco.

“Why has he been treating me like this?” you asked draco with a little bit of sadness in your voice. “Look… I'm not supposed to tell you this but… Theo’s in love with you and he doesn't know how to tell you… and when his mother died she told him that she always thought you too would end up together and she was sad that she wouldn't get to see you guys together.”. After a really long pause of silence, all you could say was “why couldn't he just tell me that?” and all draco could say was “i'm not sure” you guys had talked for a couple more hours and then both decided to go to bed.

A week later you had gone down to the black lake for a party with the slytherins and the hufflepuffs. You didn't go to very many parties, but with theo acting weird you decided that some change is what you need.

When you got to the party the first thing you saw was Theo standing in the corner of the party, drinking with mattheo. He spotted you from across the yard and went wide eyed. You didn't want to give him a reaction so you just rolled your eyes and walked over to the drinks. After getting a drink, you walked over to where everyone was dancing and started dancing with everyone.

A couple hours later, and after lots of drinks, everyone had left and gone back to their dorms. You sat at the edge of the lake, drunk and sad. You heard someone walking up behind you and saw theo standing there. “get up, it's past midnight. I'll walk you to your dorm.” he said with a cold look in his eyes. “I'm not going anywhere with you,” you said looking back at the lake. “No, I'm not leaving you here,” he said. “Why? Why do you care?” you said standing up. “What… why wouldn't i?” he asked with a bit of attitude. “You've been ignoring me for weeks, you've been treating me like shit teddy” you said looking at him. “I talked to draco… why didn't you tell me?” He looked at you with a blank stare and said “i don't know..” with a hurt voice.

“ Teddy… if i would have known that you felt that way… if i knew that you cared that much about me, i would have fought for you… for us” you said to him. “I'm sorry, I just didn't think that you would feel that way about me” he said looking down. “Teddy…” you said gently, placing your hand on his cheek. “You could have told me… I've been in love with you since we were little.”

“I love you, cara mia” he said looking at you.

“I love you too, teddy” you said reaching up to his lips and kissing him.

#theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott imagine #slytherin boys #theo nott #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry

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allfearstofallto · 9 months ago

Note

College au is so delicious bc you can have Childe having to deal with the fact that you don't like him. Whether it be his sus vibes or how...dead his eyes look, you just don't like him. So you avoid him like the plague to save the both of you from any trouble.

But the thing is, he likes you and he's sure he can make you feel the same way about him. You'll come around, he's sure of it.

Just Childe engaging in pest behavior is all I can think about for this au

-🐇

Writing Childe without his power and assets is so goddamn challenging, but also so fun!

He's such a pest though. That pretty face can get him so damn far, I'm sure of it. I have to think about how easily I fell for Childe before it was revealed that he was super fucking evil, so obviously it wouldn't be hard for him to develop a pretty powerful influence with enough smiles.

Childe <3

College AU

Yandere! Childe x Fem! Reader

You don't like Ajax? Or Childe as they called him. A stupid nickname, but one he apparently earned. Where he got it from to even who he was, you truly didn't care. You didn't like him and apparently that was a problem with everyone, but you.

You were okay with not having a relationship with him. The campus was big enough where you didn't have to see him if you didn't want to and you both studied different majors, although you put more time and effort into your study. He spent most of his energy on being the life of the party.

People didn't understand why you didn't like Ajax, apparently just saying that you found him creepy wasn't enough of an answer.The Ajax who made an effort to always invite you out? The Ajax who always wanted to walk you to and from classes even though you never told him your schedule? The Ajax who was the only person to buy you gifts for Valentine's, heart shaped, lavish chocolates and a bouquet bigger than your head, even though you weren't romantic with him? The Ajax that called and texted you at random hours of the night to “check on you” when you didn't give him your number? No. Not that Ajax. That Ajax wasn't creepy at all.

The worst part was his dead eyed stare. You wondered how people enjoyed his company when he had the eyes of someone with no true compassion, the eyes of someone who was obviously faking their emotion. Was everyone just pretending to not notice how his smile didn't reach his eyes, or had you truly gone crazy?

The dim, setting sunlight hit your note pages as you sat in the library to study, a typical thing for you to do when you had hours between your classes. And Ajax, the one who was failing almost every single class he took, decided to sit only a few tables over from you, pretending to be nose deep into a book for a course he didn't even take.

You could feel his eyes on you as you tried to focus on anything, but him. The books, the clocks, your phone, anything but him, where he sat unmoving. Why was today the day the library had to be empty? Where was everyone else who was supposed to be studying? Why were you alone with him, only a few tables between you.

A weight lifted off your shoulder when you heard someone stomping up the stairs to the library, calling his name loudly, “What are you doing here man? I didn't even think you knew what a library was!” they ostracized him while playfully smacking him on the back. They were obnoxiously loud, something that would've annoyed you any other day, but today you were grateful for their rudeness.

He was distracted. You could tell because you could no longer feel those eyes on you. This was your chance to scoop all of your books up and toss your bag over your shoulder, running out the door before he had the chance to notice you were gone. You breathed a sigh of relief, feeling the cool autumn air against your skin eased you more than the tense air of the library.

It was worrisome how much more you'd been seeing him these past few days. More than usual and not in the coincidental way. It was like he always knew where you were going. You tried to brush the thought from your head as you walked to your next class, trying to focus on anything else, but that feeling was back. The feeling of eyes on you. And not just any eyes. Those dead eyes. He was nearby.

You stopped in your tracks and turned on your heels with your eyes closed. In your mind, you were silently praying that it was just the nerves and your mind was playing tricks on you. That it was making you imagine the feeling, but sure enough, there he was, messy orange hair, charming smile, and lifeless eyes.

“You're jumpy today,” he said playfully. You took a hesitant step back, but he still closed the distance between you, with little hassle. All it took was two steps from his long legs and suddenly you could smell his oaky cologne. He tossed an arm over your shoulder and pulled you back into his chest, “You left pretty quickly back there. I didn't even get to say hello.”

“Sorry,” you muttered beneath your breath. His baggy clothes hid it well, but he was built firmly beneath them, all muscle with little to no fat. He wasn't choking you with this arm, not yet, but you could feel his ability to. And it would be easy for him to do.

His orange hair tickled your cheeks as he leaned down to be closer to your face, “You didn't answer my text,” his voice just barely above a whisper, his tone playful, but you could feel the malice behind it. He was annunciating each syllable of each word, speaking slowly so you couldn't say you didn't hear him correctly.

“T-text?” You stuttered back. Which text? Ajax texted you all hours of the day and night. Was he actually taking your dry, one word answers as replies? Was what you were doing to try to push him away only making him push back harder?

With an arm still around your neck, his other hand trailed down your body. His fingertips traced every curve of your clothed person, until they landed on the hip. He took this time to squeeze and groped your lower body before slipping your phone out of your pocket and typed in your password.

The blood drained from your face while you watched him scroll through your apps. No one knew your password. No one. Yet he typed it in like it was a regular occurrence for him.

“Didn't even save my number,” he whined, “Don't worry, I've got you.”

His name was changed from a string of numbers to “Childe <3” not giving you the chance to protest.

“You really are a bad girlfriend,” he muttered again, not caring about your lack of a response to him. Girlfriend? Since when were you his girlfriend? You felt like you were spinning in place and your head just felt so heavy. He was saying everything so casually, like you were supposed to agree with it, like you were the one who was wrong.

“Ajax, I think you've misunderstood something,” you said a little too quickly, but your lungs felt like they couldn't get any air in them.

It seemed like he ignored your words completely as he continued to scroll through his messages to you, where he was practically talking to himself, “See? Right here. I asked to take you out for coffee,” he held the screen up to your face.

Sure enough, he had. But you never responded and that text was quickly swallowed up by the myriad of other texts he'd sent you. His flirty messages were ignored by you, more often than not you only replied out of what felt like obligation and fear. Anyone who said you were lucky to have the oh so popular Ajax crushing on you, obviously didn't look into those empty eyes enough.

He sighed and using that arm around your shoulders, began to drag you in the opposite direction from where you were going. You tried to stop him and pull away, but his strength only made you stumble over your own steps, falling into his arms.

“Where are you taking me?” Fear was laced in your words as you continued to struggle in his grasp, but he didn't stagger.

“Coffee.” He spoke with ease as he continued to drag you along with him, that well built, muscled arm shifted ever so slightly to your neck and starting to choke, “I think we need to talk.”

#mai<3 answers #🐇 anon #genshin #yandere genshin #genshin x reader #yandere x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin x reader #yandere x you #yandere childe #yandere childe x reader

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bosbas · 5 months ago

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Chapter 12: I thought I was better safe than starry-eyed

series masterlist previous part || next part

pairing: colin bridgerton x enemy!fem!reader WC: 3.5k words

Warnings: period-typical gender roles, insane amounts of pining, idiots in love!!, in their friends era... or are they?, the slow burn is slowww burningggg i'm so sorry

Summary: It took precisely two days in England for you to utterly despise Colin Bridgerton. It took him approximately twelve hours after that to hate you right back. But he doesn't care that you're the only person in the ton who doesn't like him. You're set to marry someone else anyway, right?

A/N: I am BACK sorry for my absence I promise I won't leave for that long again <3

July 12, 1816 – It seems that the summer heat is not the only thing causing a stir within the ton. Recently, the Montclair and Bridgerton families have been seen in each other’s company more frequently than usual. Could there be a more permanent union on the horizon?

Lord Philippe Montclair and Mr. Colin Bridgerton have been spotted in deep conversation on multiple occasions, discussing matters that appear far more serious than the usual lighthearted banter one would expect. Indeed, whispers suggest that their discussions have involved future business ventures and mutual interests, signaling a burgeoning camaraderie between the two gentlemen.

Regardless, the warmth between the two families is palpable, leading this author to wonder if we shall soon hear the sound of wedding bells. Stay vigilant, dear readers. Though no one shall stay more vigilant than this author.

As you walked home from the modiste with Eloise by your side, you noted the afternoon sun filtering through the leaves high atop the trees surrounding you. You had suggested a shortcut back to your respective homes, opting to go through the park rather than the busy streets, and you were mostly thankful for the silence of the greenery around you. Mostly.

“So, will you be joining us for dinner tonight?” asked Eloise expectantly, gently nudging your shoulder with hers.

You groaned and screwed your eyes shut, already dreading the conversation, and the evening, to come. “Yes, Mother has been quite insistent that I go. I think she’d kill me if I asked to stay home one more time.”

“I didn’t know we were that bad,” joked Eloise, only a hint of resentment in her voice.

“Not at all!” you rushed to defend yourself, cringing at the fact that one of your dearest friends was upset with you. “You know that it’s just… Well, I’m sure Colin told you everything. I really can’t bear to face him.”

In all honesty, Eloise’s annoyance was warranted. You had spent the past two weeks avoiding the Bridgertons at all costs, only seeing Eloise at balls or in your own home. The only reason you had gone to Bridgerton House today was because you and Eloise were leaving immediately afterward to go get new dresses, and you were certain you wouldn’t run into Colin.

Not only were you still terribly embarrassed by your assumptions of Colin's character, but you also found yourself strangely drawn to him. Now that nothing prevented you from actually liking him, and now that you knew that he was not a horrible person like you had previously thought, you were in a bit of a conundrum. Colin Bridgerton had charmed you, and you knew that if you let yourself, you could very well start to grow feelings for him.

And that wouldn’t do. No, it absolutely wouldn’t. For starters, the two of you had never managed to get along anyway, so you had no idea how you would even live in relative peace were you to have a future. Even so, your father would never approve, no matter what Lady Whisteldown was alluding to. And so Colin was out of the question as a husband or really anything other than a friend.

But while you had been meticulously maneuvering through your social outings to avoid her family, Eloise had slowly been losing patience. She had tolerated whatever had been going on between you and Colin at the beginning of the season, but it was high time that you stopped acting so childish. Especially after Anthony and Kate’s ball, where the two of you had already apologized for your misunderstanding and subsequent feud.

“I can’t believe you haven’t seen him since that night,” scolded Eloise, crossing her arms in a huff. Then, in a humorous tone, she added, “He doesn’t actually look that bad with a broken nose if that’s what you’re worried about. The swelling has gone down considerably.”

Not able to help yourself, you let out a small snort and smiled at your friend. “No, it’s not that. I’m just so embarrassed. Oh heavens, even just thinking about it I can feel my face getting hot. He did tell you about it, right?”

“Yes,” responded Eloise, giving you a very pointed look. “He was very excited about the fact that you didn’t actually hate him. He wouldn’t stop talking about it for two days. Though now I wonder if that really is the case, given your behavior.”

“Oh, no,” you groaned, putting your head in your hands in desperation.

“He was quite embarrassed as well, Y/N,” Eloise reminded you gently. “I don’t see why you can barely stand to be in the same room as him even now.”

“I just-” you started, finding it difficult to explain why you had been so against seeing him, or any of his family, really, after the most recent ordeal with Lord Barlow.

But Eloise wasn’t letting you get away with it any longer. She slowed down her previously brisk walk, looking straight into your eyes as she gestured for you to continue.

“I just wasted so much time and energy fighting with him and I’m so ashamed that your family saw that side of me. I didn’t even know I could be that unpleasant! And to make matters worse, it was all for nothing since I was completely in the wrong.”

“Not completely,” Eloise mused. Colin had been quite kind to you in his retelling of the events, and Eloise was inclined to believe her brother’s account.

With a sigh, your friend turned to face you. “I wish you had told me what you thought of him because I would have either helped you realize your mistake or helped you kill him.”

You laughed again, shaking your head as you realized how lucky you were to have Eloise in your life. Linking arms with her, you patted her hand as you explained, “I was just terrified of the recourse. My parents were so insistent that I ‘act ladylike’ that I was scared of revealing I had been unchaperoned in the presence of two men. And besides, I didn’t want to ruin your perception of your brother.”

“Well, regardless, it will all be resolved at dinner tonight, seeing how you’ll be in attendance.”

A soft sigh escaped your lips.

“I certainly hope so.”

---

As you walked into the dining room, a soft smile on your lips as you spoke with Kate, Colin’s breath was stolen from his body. He already hadn’t been expecting to see you, already growing accustomed to having you avoid him, but seeing you look as beautiful as you did now was completely doing him in.

“Y/N,” he whispered from across the room, unable to tear his eyes away from you.

Feeling an elbow digging into his ribs, Colin turned to see Benedict, smirking as he watched his younger brother. “Might I suggest pulling yourself together if you don’t want to scare her away again?”

“Be quiet,” hissed Colin, but he ran a hand through his hair to regain his composure anyway.

“Benedict!” you greeted, delighted at finally seeing him for so long. “And Colin!” you added, hoping your voice didn’t reveal the nervousness you were feeling.

“Lovely to see you again,” said Benedict brightly, squeezing your shoulder.

Then, feigning some obligation or another, the second Bridgerton slipped out of the dining room to join the rest of your families, leaving you alone with Colin. Benedict had been terribly obvious, but the resulting awkwardness that enveloped you and Colin kept you from noticing his brash exit.

“I’m happy you’re here,” Colin spoke, almost timidly. Then, speaking very quickly, he added, “I was fairly confused when I didn’t hear from you for two weeks, but I didn’t want to call on you because we agreed to just be friends and I didn’t want to give you the wrong impression. Though now that I think about it, that might have been the decent thing to do."

Sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck, Colin looked down at the floor as he waited for your response.

“Not at all!” you rushed out, wanting to reassure him. “It was my fault entirely. I apologize for not speaking with you sooner, I was just a tad embarrassed, as you can probably imagine.”

Colin’s shoulders relaxed and he smiled, feeling at ease now that he was certain you didn’t spontaneously hate him again.

“You were embarrassed? I rather think I should be the one feeling that way,” he laughed. “I still find it hard to believe you could have thought I was that... horrid for so long.”

You put your hands over your face and shook your head. “I can’t believe it either,” you groaned.

Sensing you were getting worked up again, Colin instinctively put a comforting arm around your shoulders, pressing you to him. “No, it’s quite alright. I promise I was just…”

Then, suddenly realizing just how close he was holding you to him, Colin stepped away quickly. Instead of apologizing and drawing even more attention to his overstepping, he settled for clearing his throat awkwardly, clasping his hands behind his back to keep from reaching out to you again.

“It was all in jest, I swear,” promised Colin, realizing he had never finished his earlier sentence.

Before you could respond, Violet walked into the dining room, followed by your family.

“Hello, Y/N!” she greeted you, reaching over to put a hand on your forearm in greeting. “I’m thrilled you’re here! We missed you last week.”

You smiled gratefully back at her, internally chastising yourself for ever wanting to avoid this wonderful family. All because you were scared of facing Colin, who, as it turned out, had a singular talent for making you feel at ease.

“You’re seated here, next to Colin,” indicated Violet, gesturing toward a seat near the end of the dining table.

“Oh,” you breathed out, not expecting to have to be in such proximity to him for the whole night. Realizing you had been impossibly rude, you added, “Thank you very much, I’m sure we’ll have lots to catch up on.”

Four courses later, you were having the time of your life. You were sitting between Francesca and Colin, and both had been keeping you endlessly entertained as you ate. Speaking to Colin came so naturally that you wondered how the two of you had ever managed to fight so much without ever having a proper conversation, save for one or two. It seemed impossible now, the forgone tension between you. Especially when you had to actively ensure that you were talking to Francesca, too, rather than just Colin. But he was just so easy to talk to, and you simply had so much in common that it was proving quite difficult to focus on anything else.

“Are you excited for your season next year?” you asked Francesca, leaning away from Colin so you could concentrate on speaking to her.

“I suppose I’m looking forward to having something of my own,” she responded after chewing thoughtfully. “An experience of my own, that is. It’ll be quite the luxury, especially being from a family as large as mine. Did you ever feel that way?”

You hummed, thinking back on your season. “I felt that way at the beginning, to be sure. But having seen my older sister’s fairytale romance and having a season that was nowhere near that had me wishing for a season similar to hers in the end.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean that-” Francesca started, having forgotten your ordeal with Lord Barlow.

You waved her apology away, smiling warmly at her. “Not to worry, I’m quite well-adjusted now. Perhaps next season will be better, though I’m not sure how unique it will be since I’m heading back to Spain, just as Isabelle did.”

“Are you really leaving?” asked Francesca, partially in shock that you were leaving after only one season. “But-”

“Y/N does,” came a loud voice next to you.

Confused, you turned around to face Colin, who seemed to have gone quite red in the face.

“I hadn’t realized I was speaking that loud,” he said bashfully, nervous now that most everyone at the table was looking at him expectantly. “Anthony was only talking about how I use the night sky to navigate my crew when I travel, and I was pointing out that you are quite knowledgeable in that area as well,” he explained, looking at you with wide, uncertain eyes.

Anthony, who had been at the other side of the table, was struggling to contain his laughter.

“I had no idea Y/N knew so much about the stars,” commented Violet, looking directly at Colin as she did so, an unreadable expression on her face.

Highly uncomfortable at being the center of attention for this particular reason, the third Bridgerton internally cringed and gulped his wine, hoping to wash down some of the discomfort as he did so.

“We’ve only talked about it a few times, but she does seem to be quite the expert,” he said finally.

Feeling charitable, Louis chimed in to change the subject, “I know I’ve been victim to her hour-long lectures about which constellations are visible at any given point in time. Were you thinking of traveling soon, Anthony?”

Letting out a sigh of relief now that the attention was no longer fixed on his thinly veiled infatuation with you, Colin cast a fleeting smile in your direction, eager to gauge your reaction.

But you only smiled amusedly at him, snickering as he gripped his fork and knife tightly in his hands with leftover tension.

“Tell Louis I say thank you,” he muttered.

You shook your head. “It’ll get to his head,” you argued.

And Colin’s smile in return was so charming, so roguish, and so handsome that you were tempted to forget your agreement to be friends right then and there.

Ah, that was why you had been avoiding him, you reminded yourself. Colin was far too charismatic for his own good. For your own good, rather.

But you had to remind yourself of what your parents –and society– expected you to find. A man with a title and a fortune. And that was decidedly not a Mr. Colin Bridgerton.

Clearing your throat, you turned away from Colin to face Francesca again.

Friends, you reminded yourself. You were friends with Colin.

---

The Montclair brothers sat in their father’s study, brandy in hand as they so often did after evening dinners ran long and they needed to wind down. Supper with the Bridgertons had been lovely, but the boys had important matters to discuss with their father. Well, important matters to you. But important nonetheless.

“Que pensez-vous de Colin?” asked Jacques, trying to seem nonchalant (What do you think of Colin?).

“Bah, il est assez gentil, mais il est vraiment amoureux,” came your father’s gruff response before he took a long sip of brandy, rubbing his temples (Well, he’s nice enough, but he’s definitely in love).

“Quoi? Amoureux de qui?” pressed Philippe, feigning innocence as if this wasn’t exactly what the brothers wanted Lord Montclair to notice (What? In love with who?).

“De Y/N, bien sûr,” replied your father, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world (With Y/N, of course).

That was the tipping point for Louis, who apparently was the only person in the world who wasn't instantly attuned to Colin’s feelings. Forgetting why he and his brothers were so eager to meet with their father and talk about Colin, the youngest Montclair brother set his glass of brandy down in exasperation.

“Putain, comment tout le monde a pu voir ça?” (Damnit, how did everyone else see that?)

---

Laughing quietly at a comment Colin had whispered in your ear, you found yourself truly enjoying a ball for the first time in a very long time. Now that you were past all the hatred and subsequent awkwardness, it was lovely to spend an evening with Colin by your side.

This might have been the first ball you had been to that you hadn’t spent a considerable amount of time sulking at. It was, to say the very least, quite freeing.

Not to mention the absolute entertainment that was watching the third Bridgerton rush from ambitious mama to eligible lady and back to another mama as he attempted to please everyone. You had only been here an hour and he’d already danced three times and spoken with at least four women you knew for a fact he had no interest in.

“Ah, Mr. Bridgerton, it’s lovely to see you again,” came a voice behind you.

Both of you turned around to face Miss Anne McCall, who was looking at Colin expectantly. Amused, you raised your eyebrows at him, too. You could bet your family’s entire fortune that Colin had promised her a dance at some point tonight.

He cleared his throat awkwardly, briefly touching your arm. “Excuse me just a moment, Y/N.”

You nodded, unable to respond because you were momentarily overtaken by the feel of his hand on you. An unfamiliar warmth radiated to you, and you almost stumbled as you tried to regain your bearings.

Looking out across the ballroom, you spotted Colin smiling and laughing as he danced with Miss McCall, who was looking absolutely enamored as he spun her around. You smiled to yourself, glad that your rivalry with him had been resolved and you could simply appreciate the fact that he was a lovely person. Maybe some night you would be the one he was spinning around the ballroom.

Shaking your head to will the mental image away, you made your way to the other side of the ballroom, needing to clear your head.

However, a hand gripped yours and you turned around, surprised. Colin’s relieved eyes met yours and he pulled you closer to him, though still allowing an appropriate distance between you two in case anyone was observing.

“A turn about the ballroom?” he suggested, eyes pleading.

Once again taken aback by how aware you were of his skin on yours, you could only nod, allowing him to place your hand in the crook of his elbow.

“Thank you,” he murmured. “I think I’ve spoken to too many people tonight. If I have to laugh politely at another conversation I’m certain I will dissolve right where I'm standing.”

You rolled your eyes good-naturedly, squeezing his arm. “You don’t have to do it, you know?”

“Do what?”

“That,” you said, gesturing toward the dancefloor full of couples waltzing. “You’re allowed to say no.”

Colin frowned, thoughtful. “I wouldn’t want to disappoint them.”

“Why not?” you pressed.

“I- I don’t know, I suppose. It feels like it’s what I should be doing. Doesn’t everyone?”

“Hmm, not particularly. I’ve said no to plenty of men wanting to dance with me, you included,” you nudged him playfully.

“That doesn’t really count, though. Because you’re… you. It doesn’t matter if you say no to every single man asking you to dance.”

“Doesn’t it? You’re also you. So, it doesn’t matter either.”

“No, I mean that…I don’t know what I mean. I suppose that people would still like you even if you said no a lot.”

Your eyebrows shot up as you took in what Colin was saying.

“People would still like you if you said no every once in a while, you know? I know I would.”

Colin shook his head. “It’s still different!” Then, softening his voice, he added, “Because you have… Or rather, because I just don’t have any remarkable qualities beyond people finding me charming or affable.”

“Colin,” you scolded, rolling your eyes. Then, seeing that he was quite serious, your expression sobered. “Of course you have value beyond how much people like you. My word, Colin. You are so clever and so well-traveled. You can orient yourself on a map at first glance, and I doubt you would ever get lost at sea. You know most constellations visible from London, and I don’t even know how many beyond that.”

“Alright, I see your point,” he laughed, secretly wishing you would continue speaking forever. Colin was practically preening at your praise, and he so desperately wished you could want him the way he wanted you. “What do you suggest I do at balls, then, if I'm not dancing with every single member of the ton?”

“Well, you could start by only dancing with people you want to dance with.”

“In that case, would you like to dance with me?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “No, I’m serious.”

“So am I,” insisted Colin. Then, after a pause, he added, “Friends can dance together," a twinge of regret in his chest as he said the words.

But that seemed to placate you, and you placed your hand in his. “I suppose they do.”

With a shaky breath, you prepared for the next few minutes you would spend in Colin’s arms, not quite sure you or your heart were ready to look into his mesmerizing eyes and not fall completely head over heels for him.

But one smile from him, and you were completely at ease. One dance couldn’t hurt, right?

—

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disneyprincemuke · 11 months ago

Text

everybody talks too much

alternatively: logan accidentally forgets his relationship is meant to be a secret

(series masterlist)

"so the people want to know," the host pauses with a small grin. "why are you always carrying (y/n)'s stuff on a race weekend? it's been brought to my attention that it happens every weekend without fail."

a picture flashes on the screen, one of them entering the paddocks where he's got two bags over his shoulder. one that's visibly his with the fluorescent yellow, and another with a big black cat keychain hanging off of it.

another is presented: the race is over and he's got his helmet hanging on the tips of his fingers from the strap, and then he's got her helmet in his arms.

"well, it's just something we've done since we started our junior career, actually" logan shrugs, smiling at the memory. the conversation had gone simply when they were friends: carry her things to look like a gentleman.

the concept did actually work before they got together, girls gawking at his generosity and very gentlemanly behaviour. and it sort of just carried into their normalcy after they got together. it's also his subtle way of being able to play the part of her boyfriend to the public without giving too much away.

"and you know, she's my girlfriend, so i've kinda got to-" logan stops himself as he processes what he said in his head. he laughs sheepishly, a hand coming up to scratch the back of his neck.

the host stares at him, wide-eyed with a knowing grin. "i mean, my best friend," he corrects himself with a knowing point at her. "for like, a really long time. it's really just routine for us. i think before we got a lot closer, oscar was the one doing it for her a lot."

and thankfully for him, the host continues on with another question. and he just knows he won't hear the end of this from his pr manager, and his girlfriend would never let him live it down.

logan sighs tiredly, closing his mouth. across the table, oscar throws his head back roaring in laughter as he clutches his stomach. "it's not funny!"

"it's so funny," oscar wipes away a tear that's formed in his eye. "you called her your girlfriend in front of - what - hundreds of people?"

beside him, lily sighs tiredly and shakes her head. "i'm sure it was very nervewracking when you slip up like that."

"it was," logan sighs. he rolls his eyes and shakes his head at his earlier predicament. "i'm so lucky that the host literally just moved on without saying anything. but i know just from her smile that she knows i'm lying."

"mate, even alex can tell you're lying!" oscar bursts, holding his head in one hand with the other clutching his chest. "you've got to brush up on your lying skills. you guys will get caught before the season is over if you keep this up."

"keep what up?" she approaches the table, pulling the empty seat out next to logan. they all stare at her, logan just dropping his head in shame. he thought she'd have known by now what happened because it's all alex and george could talk about when he saw them.

lily shifts in her seat uncomfortably. "you don't know?"

"is there something i should know?" she laughs nervously, looking at lily and oscar. then she turns to logan, who's been strangely quiet. with his silence and avoiding her gaze, her smile drops and she slumps her shoulders. "did you do something? ba- logan, i swear if you dropped another one of my makeup palettes... i don't know what i'll do to you."

"i accidentally called you my girlfriend on stage," logan mutters, folding his arms over his chest. "i got too comfortable."

a small smile stretches her lips. she turns away from logan before resting her wrist on his shoulder. "i know."

"you know?" oscar's jaw drops. "and you're not mad?"

"it was getting a bit boring, anyway," she shrugs, picking up the menu that's laid flat on the table. "also, max approached me and told me what happened. and then he asked me, and then carlos came and asked me... and then alex and george..."

"you're seriously not mad?" logan frowns, peeking up at her slightly to meet her eyes. "i'm sorry. i know you don't want anyone finding out - it's honestly hard enough for you. you don't need problems like this making you feel worse."

"no," she laughs, squeezing his shoulder. "i think it's funny watching everyone put up a whiteboard with red yarn trying to connect the dots to debunk our relationship status."

she turns to logan and shakes him. "seriously, baby? don't worry about it."

logan sighs. "okay, if you say so."

"this conversation didn't go the way i'd hoped," oscar frowns, picking up his menu aggressively. "i wanted to watch you guys fight."

"you're such a good friend, oscar."

kidy/n

liked by sebastianvettel, oscarpiastri and 64,307 others

kidy/n guys don’t worry he’s still single and he’s been reprimanded for calling me his girlfriend 🙏🏼 (we made him pay me 20 dollars)

view 2,975 comments…

user1 my entire world has been shattered

user2 like exactly wdym it was just a mistake calling her his gf??

user3 no no theyre together in my head

liamlawson30 hey why am i there

kidy/n u were in the frame 🤷🏼‍♀️

liamlawson30 wow people dont even ask for consent anymore

kidy/n ok sry

logansargeant my sincerest apologies, i keep forgetting youre a single girlboss 🙏🏼

kidy/n apology accepted (i want 20 dollars more)

user4 NOOOOOOO TAKE THAT BACK

user5 LOGAN FIGHT BACK

user6 oh thank god

user7 k hater who asked u

oscarpiastri was funny watching logan get scolded

user8 leak the footage

oscarpiastri she took my phone away before so no video evidence ☹️

user9 Y/N U HATER

kidy/n it was necessary, he leaks too much 😀

user10 and here we thought logan was hard launching

user11 istg it it ever comes out theyre dating, im harassing her with this moment

kidy/n u wont ever catch me 🏃🏽‍♀️🏃🏽‍♀️

user11 y/n pls just date logan 🙏🏼

#logan sargeant #logan sargeant x reader #logan sargeant x you #female driver #fem!driver #f1 female driver #f1 x you #f1 #disneyprincemuke #disneyprincemuke imagine #disneyprincemuke imagines #disneyprincemuke f1 #disneyprincemuke ial #disneyprincemuke vr

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lanadelreyscokewhor3 · 2 months ago

Text

TILL THE WORLD ENDS- L. HOWLETT

Pairing: Mob Associate! Logan x Mob Associate! Fem! Reader

Word Count: 1.3k

Summary: Logan has always seemed to have his eye on you, more than any other of his fellow co-workers. The sulking man was no more than a brooding mystery to you-until he steals you away from some men who get a little too close for comfort. Mission... failed?

Warnings: Logan being possesive, a little controlling, pet names, swearing, mention of drugs, drinking and sexual implications, teasing etc

Authors Note: hi! is this going to be a series? no idea! i think it will be... i love the idea of logan and y/n being in a little mob, crime ganster thingy together. this is enemies to lovers ;) also sorry for the spam of content, i just really like writing for logan hehe

"i can't take it, take it, take no more- never felt like, felt like this before, come on get me on the floor- DJ what you, what you waiting for?"- till the world ends, britney spears

“You’re hurting me.” you whined as Logan gripped your arm tightly, tugging you down a darkened hallway, the bright lights and loud, thumping music seeming to fade, as if someone had turned the volume all the way down.

His grip slightly loosened , but his pace never faltered. He glared at anyone who looked in your general direction, pulling you back into a quiet alcove.

“Why’d you do that?” you frowned, staring up into his darkened eyes that surveyed your body, as if he were looking for marks or slashes.

This mission wasn't supposed to be dangerous.

The men you worked with, and against were- yes, rather dangerous. But tonight? Your mission was simply to distract.

Be ‘eye- candy’ as Charles had told you, before the mob had split from the dingy office, the rest of the men leaving as quick as they arrived- except for Logan. You noticed he lingered by the doorway just a little longer, remaining in the shadows while you talked to Charles.

Logan, Scott and Hank would keep an eye out for Magneto, slipping into his office to grab the documents Charles needed to take down his whole operation, and get the money back that belonged to him.

You were supposed to distract any member of his crew.

Simple enough.

You had plenty of club experience, and the fact you were still young and fun made dancing that much more easier. A sharp whistle escaped Hank's lips as you stepped out of your bunker room, eyes sweeping you down to take in your little mini skirt and black thigh high boots.

Logan, on the other hand- looked like he was going to start fuming.

“What? I’m supposed to distract.” you snickered, strutting past the group of men that followed every wish of your hips as you walked to the pack of motorcycles that waited for you.

Logan still hadn't let go of you just yet.

His eyes had been on you all night, watching you like a hawk from the balcony of the nightclub. It made your stomach twist in knots of confusion. Why he seemed to hunt you down- you didn't know.

He was quiet, stony and cold. He rarely showed emotion (except towards you, Hank had insisted, even though you didn't see it). And tonight it felt like the stakes had been raised.

You had eyed down a group of Magnetos men, a cat on the prowl as you drew them in with your eyes and your hips that swayed to the beat of the music. You had found yourself leaned against the chest of a man, as he grinded on you, holding your hips tightly.

White powder had found itself dusted around his nostrils, something herby smoking from the other man as they talked to you in low voices.

Trying to tempt you.

But before they could get very far, a firm grip had grabbed you, tugging you off the dance floor.

“Because they were getting too handsy.”

“Why do you care? It was my job. And you could’ve just fucked up the whole mission, thinking with your dick and not your brain.” you snorted, slightly tipsy from the shots you couldn't avoid taking under Magentos mens watch.

To them, you were just an innocent, ditsy party girl who fed off any attention a man would give you.

“We’ve got the documents, and we’re leaving.” he growled. You tried not to stare at his lips as he wet them, tongue darting out slightly.

“But the party’s just getting started! Don’t you wanna dance Mr. Howlett?” you asked teasingly, pushing him just that much further.

“Charles would kill you, and then me.”

“What, so now a girl can't dance? I did my job and I did it well. You’re not my boyfriend and neither is he, so why do you two give a shit?” you snapped, tugging your arm back out of his warm grasp.

He rolled his eyes, head turning to stare down a stranger that was just trying to go to the restroom.

“I give a shit if my enemy's men have their hands on you kid.”

“I’m not a kid.”

He looked you up and down, eyes lingering a little too long on your cleavage that popped out of your corset top, his eyes seeming to darken.

“No shit. So quit acting like one, and let's go. I'm supposed to look after you.”

“Says who?”

“Says Charles.”

You snorted, crossing your arms. “I don't need to be babied by him.”

“Well he's our boss, so I do what he says. We’re leaving. Hank and Scott are already almost back to the shop.”

You pursed your lips, clenching your thighs at the sight of him. He towered over you, annoyance and anger rolling off him in waves. You liked this whole pushing his buttons thing. You got a little thrill out of seeing how far you could go.

“Well I want to go dance. There are men over there, just begging to get a taste of me. I'm sure you could join them.” you raised an eyebrow, slipping around him to head back down the hallway towards the deep purple and blue lights.

“Don't you dare.” he growled.

“Awh Howlett are you jealous? How cute. Good thing you’re not the boss of me.”

You turned your back on him for no more than a split second, barely getting a stride in before his hand gripped your middle, spinning you around and flipping you up over his shoulder.

“THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU-” you scrambled, getting nowhere as he gripped your thighs harshly, turning on his heel to walk to the back exit. Whistling to himself, he shook his head at an alarmed passerby.

“She's drunk, I’m taking her home. Kids these days.” he smirked, and you struggled again to escape his grasp- failing.

The cool air hit your skin like a slap in the face as he shoved open the back door- the shot no longer protecting you from the chillness of the night. It didn't help that you barely had anything to cover you- and you haven't drank enough to be too drunk to care.

“Fine, if you're gonna be that way- I’ll just drive myself.” you snarled as you shimmed from his grasp- as he finally loosened his grip enough for you to escape. You headed towards your bike that stood propped up in the alleyway. You fought a shiver as a rush of wind brushed over you again, folding your arms tighter across yourself to try and barricade your exposed skin.

“Don't be stupid.” he stated, arm reached out- leather jacket in hand.

You turned, to simply stare at him, and the offering he gave you. You barely knew this man. Yet here he was, bossing you around and giving you his jacket as if he was yours.

It made your head hurt, to try and attempt his logic. “I can drive myself.”

“I'm sure you can. But youre not. We’ll get it in the morning.” he nodded to your bike, leather jacket still in hand.

He refused to let you win, and you were too tired to fight with him any longer. Plus, Charles was probably wondering where the fuck you two were, considering Hank and Scott would be back already, missing half the crew.

You took a breath, hesitantly reaching for the jacket. It was large, much too big for you, but it was warm as you slipped it on. It smelled like pine, smoke and whisky, and you couldn't help but breathe in the scent of well… him.

“I’m driving myself.”

“Do you really want me to pick you up again? You gonna stop acting like a lil brat?” he huffed, clearly growing tired of your antics. As if he hadn't been tired of them all night.

Oh well.

“Who do you think you are?!”

He sighed, hanging his head in disappointment. “Get on the back of the bike, kid. Dont fuck around, or you’ll find out.”

“Was that a threat, Mr.Howlett?”

He stared at you, large muscles flexing as he tried to hold himself back- from what, you didn't know.

His fuse was short. You liked to burn it out.

And you planned to do it the rest of the way home.

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f1byjessie · 10 months ago

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HE LIKES MY AMERICAN SMILE ━━ OP81.

love is a wild ride, and logan sargeant's sister is about to find this out the hard way.

( oscar piastri x sargeant!reader )

━━ part six.

Oscar looks as surprised as you feel— eyes wide, mouth parted slightly, frozen mid-step into the entryway. He’s staring at you, in fact, he’s focused entirely on you, but this moment doesn’t feel as magical as you had envisioned it would be. It doesn’t feel magical at all.

There’s no butterflies in your stomach, no teary reunion hugs, and there’s definitely no movie-worthy kiss.

He looks like a deer in the headlights, caught somewhere between wanting to turn tail and run away or being swallowed up by the floorboards— anything to be anywhere else in the world than right here with you.

And it hurts.

“Y/N,” he finally starts, clearing his throat when his voice cracks awkwardly on your name. He shifts from foot to foot, and clenches and unclenches his hands at his side like he isn’t quite sure what to do with them. “I, uh, didn’t know you would be here.”

You open your mouth to respond— to say the same. You want to explain that you hadn’t known he would be here either, and that had you known you would’ve waited up for him at the house instead of hitting the town with Lando, but before you can get a single word out Oscar is already turning to Lando and fixing him with a glare.

“You said you were at a meeting,” he says, words clipped and under-toned with frustration.

Lando steps further into his entryway and kicks off his shoes, not seeming to care about where they end up. “Technically,” he begins as he does so, peering over his shoulder at Oscar with a cheeky grin, “a dinner can be considered a meeting.”

Oscar’s jaw clenches. “You didn’t tell me it would be with her.”

Your brows furrow and you cross your arms. You feel startlingly sober now, and the shift away from the warm fuzzy buzz leaves you feeling cold and like the world has been brought into hyperfocus.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask, bringing Oscar’s attention back to you.

He takes in your stance and the expression on your face, perhaps realizing how his words sounded, and sighs. “I just would’ve appreciated being told I’d be sharing the house with… with you before I got here.”

“So you could avoid me like you have been since the season ended?” It… isn’t what you had been intending to say, but the words rush out of you before you can reign them in and bite them back. You know Oscar isn’t the only party at fault in this situation— you know that you could’ve just as easily reached out— but you feel hurt and angry, and having him stand before you demanding to know things makes it worse.

He huffs and looks away from you, avoiding your gaze. “I would’ve liked to have known I’d be third-wheeling, is all.”

It’s a bitter comment, muttered just loud enough for you to hear. The implications are valid, you know they are, but they’re not true despite what your and Lando’s comment interactions seem like.

You don’t feel so confident in your dress anymore— it feels like just another thing Oscar could comment about as proof of the unprofessionalism of your friendship with Lando. You want to scream at him that it doesn’t matter that you got dressed up to feel pretty, and it certainly doesn’t matter that you had a night on the town with Lando, who has been more of a friend to you in the past month than Oscar has been.

You can feel the tears burning at the back of your eyes, and wonder briefly how possible it would be to get a flight back to the States in the morning so you don’t have to spend the rest of the week stuck being made to feel like you’re just getting in the way of Oscar’s time with his teammate.

As if he can tell you’re on the verge of breaking out into sobs, Lando steps in physically and verbally. He takes a step in front of you, partially blocking you from Oscar’s view. “Mate,” he starts, “cool it. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, it was meant to be a surprise. But Y/N isn’t at fault. She didn’t know either.”

Oscar goes to speak again, but before he can you clear your throat and draw their attention to you once more. “I’m gonna go upstairs and get changed. Thank you for tonight again, Lando. It was nice and I really needed it.”

You give Lando a curt nod, one that he mirrors back at you with a sympathetic smile. You feel bad for dragging him into all of this now, especially when he’d gone out of his way to have you both here presumably to get you to figure things out. You hadn’t meant for things to put a strain on their friendship as well. So much of what you’d done had been done so to avoid more complications. You’d tried not to tell Logan, because you hadn’t wanted it to threaten his closeness with Oscar, especially with how rough it had been for him to make friends on the grid. On top of that, you’d been hesitant to agree to Lando’s plan in the first place for a multitude of reasons, but mostly because he and Oscar are teammates, and though they’re rivals out on the track they are also the only allies they have when the race is going. They need to be able to trust one another— not be distracted by petty disagreements.

You avoid looking at Oscar, like he seemed keen on doing to you just a moment ago, and slip past both of them to the stairs. It’s hard to get up them as fast as you want with your heels, but you manage as best you can and are thankful for it when the tears stinging your eyes finally begin sliding down your cheeks as you’re fumbling with the door knob of your room.

A few hours later, you’re curled up in bed on the phone with Logan. You’ve been changed out of your dress for a while, now clad in a T-shirt that you’re pretty sure belonged to Dalton at one point and a pair of comfortable sweats. Your hair is still damp from the shower you took and it’s making you cold, but the warm steam had done wonders in keeping your eyes from puffing up after having a good cry and in getting rid of the tear-stricken remains of your makeup, so you can’t complain.

Mostly you just want to forget about it all, and that’s why you’ve gone to your brother.

“I just feel like an idiot,” you tell him. “All of this is my fault. If I had just never gone along with trying to make him jealous then maybe he wouldn’t be so upset with me.”

Logan makes a sound of disagreement. “That still doesn’t give him the right to talk to you like that.”

“He wasn’t wrong, Logie,” you answer. “As far as he knows, he would be third-wheeling me and Lando because that’s the impression we’ve given with our comments.”

He huffs and you can imagine him shaking his head and rolling his eyes on the other end, looking disgruntled. “Maybe that’s the impression you gave,” he starts again, “but that still doesn’t give him the right to be an asshole about it. I never got pissy with Alex when I was basically a third wheel to him and Lily half the time.”

“Yeah, but Alex isn’t using Lily to try and make you jealous so you’ll admit you have feelings for him.”

“Fair point,” he admits, grumbling. “But I digress. You’re my sister and that means you could kill a man and I would still defend you to anyone who tried to talk bad about you.”

You chuckle, and it’s the first time you’ve laughed since your encounter with Oscar which makes you feel a bit lighter.

“I think I might try to find a flight home tomorrow. I feel like I’ll just be causing more issues if I stay here, and I don’t want to make things difficult between them when they’re still driving together next season. I just don’t—” There’s a knock on your door. You relay it to Logan as you rise from the bed and make your way over to answer.

It’s Oscar.

You murmur a soft apology and then a goodbye to Logan and promise to text him later before you hang up and turn your attention back to the young man shifting around awkwardly in the hallway before you.

“Can I help you?”

He purses his lips and sheepishly meets your eyes, looking somewhat guilty which makes you wonder what, if anything, Lando said to him after you departed. “Lando said the other guest room is out of commission,” he starts, “and that, as friends, it wouldn’t be a big deal if we shared.” He clears his throat, and motions with a thumb over his shoulder back in the direction of the stairs. “I can take the couch if you want, but I just thought I could at least leave my luggage up here.”

The Oscar before you now looks drastically different from the Oscar you’d been presented with just a few hours prior. He’s dressed the same, in a loose hoodie and a pair of joggers, but he doesn’t look quite so desperate to disappear anymore. He looks ashamed. It’s closer to how you know Oscar to be from before everything happened in Bahrain.

“You don’t have to sleep on the couch,” you tell him.

He frowns. “I’m not gonna make you sleep on the couch.”

You raise an eyebrow at him and lean against the door. “I meant we could share, Oscar.” Then, partly teasing and partly wondering if he just genuinely doesn’t want to share a room with you, you frown and add, “Unless you really can’t stand the idea that much—”

“I’m fine with sharing.” He interrupts quickly, clearing his throat. “And… I’m sorry about the things I said earlier. I am happy to see you, I was just shocked is all and traveling made me a bit cranky so I didn’t handle it all that well. It’s not an excuse, though. And for the record, I don’t actually think I’ll be third-wheeling the entire time I’m here.”

The apology makes you pause. You hadn’t actually expected him to say anything because you hadn’t actually thought he was the one in the wrong. Sure, you’d been hurt, but you’d figured it was the least of what you deserved after making things so complicated. The butterflies that had been dormant when you’d first reunited with him suddenly make an appearance, fluttering in your chest.

“It’s fine,” you answer. Ignoring the pinched look he shoots you that says he wants to argue against it. “I know what it looked like,” you add.

You’re both silent for a moment, just looking at one another. His luggage sits by his feet, but he makes no move to grab it or try to enter the room, and you don’t try to open the door any further.

After another few seconds, you take a deep breath and ask— “Are we still friends?”

“Of course!” He exclaims, expression immediately melting into a mixture of confusion and concern. “Why would you think we aren’t?”

It’s obvious to you, but his genuine perplexity makes you wonder if maybe you’ve been overthinking this whole thing. What if he hasn’t been ignoring you at all? What if he just went off the grid for a bit? Drivers do that all the time, so it’s not out of place if he had decided to do so as well. Maybe he was just taking a social media detox? He only posted a few times, so a partial detox then?

You cast your gaze downward, watching your fingers fiddle with the drawstring of your pants.

“You would’ve known I was here in Monaco if you had looked at my Instagram,” you say with a shrug. “But you haven’t done that in a while, so…”

He shifts, and you look up just in time to see him make another face— a wince. “I—”

“I’m not trying to attack you, Oscar.” You interrupt, realizing how your words must’ve come across. And you’re not. It’s not an accusation, just an observation that you would really like an explanation for. “It doesn’t matter. I just feel like I’ve done something to make you upset and I don’t know the first thing about how to apologize or make it up to you because I don’t even know what I did.”

He stares at you for another moment and then heaves a sigh and runs a hand down his face, “You haven’t done anything, I promise, Y/N. I’ve just been in a funk lately, or something.”

You want to prod more— ask if he’s okay, if it’s something serious, or if it’s something you can help with in any way. But you feel like this particular interaction is an olive branch, and you don’t want the already tentative reconciliation to be torn to shreds by pushing too far.

“So we’re good?” You ask instead.

“We’re good.” He confirms with a gentle smile.

“Great,” you exclaim, clapping your hands together for emphasis. You swing the door open wider and then nod to his bags. “Then bring those in and turn the lights out already because I had a crazy night and it’s finally hitting me.”

His laughter behind you as you make your way back to the bed is the nicest sound you’ve ever heard.

━━ tags: @f1-is-lovely-33 @chasing-liberosis @405rry @aquangxl @bellezaycafe @peqch-pie @formulaal @chonkybonky @mess-is-my-aesthetic @flippingmyshit @peachiicherries

━━ a/n: a tentative reconciliation! there is still more drama to come, however, so don't worry, this isn't the end just yet!

#formula 1 #formula one #f1 #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #formula one imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula one x reader #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #logan sargeant #alex albon #lando norris #social media au

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onlyswan · 1 year ago

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summary: in which you always get what you want and jungkook is dying to kiss you.

> idol!jungkook x reader / fluff!! a pinch of angst / word count: 5.5k

> content/warnings: jimin cameo!!, a photobooth, oc gets a little hot & bothered bcs jk is a menace lol (they both are <3), touches a biiit on toxic relationships but this is pure fluff and yearning :p (the ex oc mentions is the same as the one mentioned in the first meeting drabble)

> songs: bad - wave to earth / just like magic - ariana grande

> in which masterlist!

note: just a sweet and silly drabble of jungkook being hopelessly whipped for oc before they even became official *to intensify the seven mv brainrot* no i didn’t plan this 🥲 + hehe this was only a week before the first kiss :p reblogs and feedback are much appreciated !! <3

—

“you really came!”

you run towards jungkook with a wide smile that reaches your eyes. the bag hanging on your shoulder swings and strikes your hip due to your excitement, but you could care less about the clinking of coins when there’s a bright star leaning on a lamp post, smiling back at you.

you stand before him as he straightens himself up, puffs of a fleeting cloud appearing as you pant lightly. “dummy, it’s so late. i told you to go to bed. aren’t you tired?”

“exactly, it’s so late.” he emphasizes your words to scold you, concern dripping from the tone of his soft voice. “of course i had to come.”

he tips his head to the side, sparkling eyes drinking you in as if he didn’t just see you the other night.

“you’re so adorable today.”

“thanks. is it because of this?” you happily scrunch your nose at the compliment, tugging at the strings of the brown knitted ear warmers wrapped around your head.

it is near midnight. drowning in the warmth of his bed to flee the freezing season, jungkook should be comfortably resting at home. however, he just had to look for your name in his contact list despite being absolutely knackered… and somehow he ended up here, because if he has been trading his sleep for work all these years, then he can also trade it any day to spend his midnights with you.

an endeared grin spreads on his face, rosy cheeks numb from the cold. “hm, teddy bear.”

a gust of silence passes by as your inquiring eyes survey the white plastic bag hanging from his hand, the company logo stamped in the middle of it familiar since childhood.

“what’s that? are you sick?”

“me?” he points at himself in confusion, shaking his head. “i’m not, though?”

“then why do you have-”

“ahhh- ah!” his face lights up as he is reminded of the other reason he came to you. he slaps his forehead with a chuckle. “i almost forgot.”

jungkook, although still a little shy around you, tries his best to initiate eye-contact when either one of you speaks to avoid giving off the impression that his mind is someplace else when you’re together. however, the mission becomes difficult when you meet his gaze wide-eyed, and he is… breathless.

“you haven’t been feeling well so… uhm, i got you vitamins and more medicine, just incase. here.”

your heart feels like it’s been wrapped in a cozy blanket meant to thaw the winter that has overstayed its welcome, spreading warmth and giddy sparks all the way to the tips of your fingers. you’re relieved that you wore gloves today; he didn’t get electrified when you took the thoughtful gift from his cold hand.

“really? even vitamins?”

the original plan was only to take a peek, but a word written in bold and colorful letters prompts you to bring out the cough medicine for a better look.

oh, jungkook.

you quickly slide it back inside the bag, a laugh accidentally slipping from your mouth. you press your lips into a thin line to suppress the rest of them bubbling in your chest.

“yah, why are you suddenly laughing? did i buy the wrong one?” he questions, nervous about his suspicions being correct.

he follows up with a matter-of-fact tone.

“you said you only like syrup when you have a cough, because it’s soothing.”

“it’s so sweet that you remembered that but…” you giggle, eyes watering as your body quakes with the intensity of it. the image of the packaging flashes in your mind, and you sniffle. “this is for babies.”

“but syrup is really for kids? are they not?”

his doe eyes are shining not with condescension but genuine innocence, and it makes this a whole lot funnier for you.

“yeah, i mean…” you pause as a puzzling realization washes over you.

oh my god, does this mean that this entire time… he’s been thinking that you gulp down bottles of cherry-flavored cough syrup for two-year-old’s? and he didn’t question that? at all?

“i guess you’re right. but they also have one for adults. i was drinking that.”

“huh, that’s what they gave me. and i just assumed-” he gestures at the medicine you’re grasping in your hands before he freezes.

with the clear view of it, he finally discerns how silly of a mistake he has made.

“i must be out of my mind today!”

he breaks out into a fit of laughter, putting a hand over his aching belly.

it’s a sound that has been evoking an inexplicable joy in you since the first time you heard it; a sound that you often miss lately. you still need to remind yourself not to stare at him for too long, scared that he’d be able to read these thoughts from a simple look at your face.

“still, it’s pink. and i bet that tastes better?”

you nod your head in agreement, pulling out the medicine once more to study the directions of use. “with the dropper and everything, i bet it’s a better experience.”

“shit, it- it even has a dropper?”

“i told you! it’s for babies!”

“babies?! no, no. this isn’t it. this won’t do.” he furiously shakes his head as he waves his hand in disapproval, crossing the distance between you to seize your wrist. “let’s go- come with me. let’s go back to the pharmacy. i’ll exchange it for the right one.”

“nope.” you refuse his demands with a smirk, stubbornly breaking away from his grip. “i don’t want to. i’ll keep this.”

“____, come on!”

“but you already gave it to m- jungkook!” you squeal when he makes a move to steal the item from your hands.

out of reflex, you hide them from him behind yourself. and unsurprisingly, that doesn’t deter jungkook’s endless supply of friskiness. he chases you as he reaches for your back, and you carelessly stumble multiple steps backwards to escape him. whimpering at the unexpected impact, you finally reach a dead-end, trapped between a wall and the boy who’s been making your winter a little less blue. your forehead lands on his chest, defeated, and he keeps you steady with a secure hold of your arms.

a harmony of breathy giggles imbues the silence of the deserted sidewalk.

“what are you even going to do with it? you can’t drink it anyway!”

you lift up your head with a drawn-out whine.

you can’t give him an answer.

to be honest, you’re just as clueless as jungkook is.

“ehhh?” he mimics the sound you made with an amused expression painted on his face. you’re too damn adorable for your own good, and it’s doing very dangerous things to his heart. “will you? are you a baby?”

the rhetorical question is a bait that you choose to bite.

“not really, but i can be your baby.” you shrug, melting him with a coquettish smile.

“ah, i see… is that term of endearment your type? you want to be mine?”

his teasing grin puts his dimples on display, and you desperately want to run back into your apartment just to spend a full minute screaming into your pillow. you’re thoroughly convinced that you’ve never felt more attracted to a person than you are to jungkook. this is bad news. you don’t know to what lengths you’re willing to go so that he could stay in your life for as long as you want. it’s terrifying and exhilarating.

“just to set the record straight, you want me to be yours.”

“and if i do? then what…? are you confident you can handle me?”

every nerve connected to your heart is a wire most alive when you yearn to bare it for another.

“try me.”

his hazy eyes falls to your lips and he goes a little crazier than he was the other night. it’s infuriating that you manage to make them look so soft and so inviting despite the frigid air. it’s dizzying, how his face is only inches away from yours and as always, you smell so sweet, just right. he wonders if you taste the same.

jungkook is dying to kiss you.

the thought has been plaguing his mind, haunting his dreams both day and night. he keeps screaming at himself to just fucking do it, but as much as he is impulsive, he doesn’t want to be the guy who catches you off guard. he doesn’t want you confusing your feelings for him with adrenaline. he wants the moment to feel right. he wants you to see that he’s sincere, and he’s nothing like those bastards who took you for granted…

selfishly, he wants this to be something real, co-existing with the fear of pushing you into a tornado of chaos that is his life.

his heart is pounding violently, he’s afraid it might jump through his sweater. the right moment feels like it could be right now, and he knows you feel it too. he observes your breathing getting heavier, and one of your restless hands has freed itself to grab a fistful of his sleeve.

your lips slightly part, and he doesn’t know if it’s the anticipation, or you did it on purpose to rile him up. he figures his jimin-hyung is right; he would be a fool if he allowed you to slip out of his hands. but truth be told, he’s the one wrapped around your finger.

fuck, fuck, fuck. he is doomed.

a pin drops and he is doomed.

his ringtone rattles the silence and slices through the tension between you. disappointment flashes across your face, and you visibly flinch at its loudness. you’ve grown to despise the incessant noise of telephone calls since moving to your apartment, one of your pet peeves jungkook is yet to hear about. panicked and irritated, he scrambles to dish out the vibrating device from the depth of his pocket.

“it’s… it’s my manager. but it’s fine, i’ll handle it.” he informs you quietly as he rejects the call, opting to send a text explaining his whereabouts.

a pang of guilt shoots through your heart.

“you can go home, it’s okay… i can take care of myself.”

“mhm-hm.” he shakes his head, still busy typing away. then, out of nowhere, he looks at you to properly plead. “don’t send me home yet.”

your eyes flicker to watch a piece of ice fall on his shoulder, white contrasting the black fabric of his jacket. another one lands on your hand, and then your collarbone. the stinging coldness, another thing that makes you flinch tonight. you look up to face the snowfall fiercely coming down, and it seems that the heaven opened up the sky to scold two lovesick teenagers tangled in a modern-day dalliance.

goddamn it, you curse.

“are you kidding me?” you grunt in frustration, eyebrows sharpening your previously dazed eyes.

jungkook barely manages to tap the deliver button before you begin dragging him to the roofed entrance of your apartment building.

“stay here. i’ll just grab an umbrella real quick.”

“okay.”

once he confirms that you’re out of sight, he releases a loud sigh, exasperatedly kicking a non-existent ball on the cemented floor.

“fuck! fuck! why? why do i move so slow? ah- they can’t just kill the mood like that. why-” he squeezes his eyes shut, pinching his nose bridge and putting a hand over his hip, so upset he can’t even speak straight. “we almost… shit, this is driving me insane… she hates me. she must hate me right now. i’m done for.”

—

the aggressive slam of the front door rings throughout your apartment, and you’re about ninety-nine percent certain you disturbed the sleep of a neighbor or two.

“then what?” you grumble to yourself, followed by a desperate cry. “then kiss me! do i really have to do everything myself?”

after grabbing the biggest umbrella you own from the basket you have beside your coat rack, you head to the kitchen where you leave behind what jungkook bought you.

eventually, your overthinking leads you to a bitter conclusion.

“does he not want something more? is he playing with me?!”

and if it was any other person, you’d be fine with that but… your gaze lands on the bottles of vitamins and cough medicine, and you sigh to regulate the accelerated beating of your heart.

“but i think i can finally do this right.”

your voice comes out above a whisper, and the verbal declaration alone fuels the hope in you.

you’re confused whether it’s a sign of luck or childishness. maybe the compensation for being well-acquainted with loss, or good karma if you decide to push it some more… but you always get what you want. despite the blood, sweat, and tears; even during the instances that you do give up, the universe somehow finds a way to arrange matters in your favor.

except you don’t want to give up on this just yet, and you don’t intend to just stand around waiting for the universe work its slow burn magic.

because you look out your bedroom window, and jungkook is squatting on the floor with his head in his hands, looking distraught as if he just lost the lottery and he was only a digit off.

you might be unsure about your label, but he sure wanted to kiss you pinned up against that wall.

—

jungkook casually steals glances from you every now and then. you’ve been softly humming to christmas songs as the ice underneath your feet crunches with every step you take, influenced by the heavy snowfall despite the holidays being long gone.

when you came back, he thought you’d be giving him the cold shoulder, reminiscent of when you got pissed off at a hair stylist not even a week ago (that day, he learned that you’re grumpy when sick, grumpier when jealous). but instead, you lent him a white fuzzy scarf to keep him warm.

“where are we going?” he asks, unaware of your destination.

he’s just been following your lead for the past five minutes or so. he only knows that you’re going someplace that will satisfy your midnight cravings, as you mentioned over the phone earlier.

“i haven’t told you?” you wince. “just mcdonald’s. i’m craving their fries… hmmm, and chocolate sundae.”

“sundae? but you have a cough.”

“i’m all better now! that’s why i’m getting it!” you keen with excitement.

except jungkook is worried. at home and at work, he has many people fussing over him when he’s not feeling well. most of the time, you only have yourself to rely on. he doesn’t like thinking about your past boyfriends, but he hopes that they took care of you when you would get sick. as for the future, he hopes that he’s there.

he perks up when he sees the pharmacy store he’s been thoughtfully scanning both sides of the streets for, recognizing the lightbox signage. “let’s stop here. i’ll buy you your adult syrup.”

“jungkook,” you giggle airily, pulling at his jacket to motion him not to go near it. “i just told you that i’m not sick anymore.”

“it’s better to be prepared.” he reasons.

the snowfall has ceased. he transfers the umbrella to his other side, freeing his hand to hold yours and tug you along with him. he childishly pretends to not hear your protests.

he’s not showing it, but he must be embarrassed about earlier. you can’t help but to smile from ear to ear, watching his back as you’re left a few steps behind, the two of you tied together by his warm and protective grip of your hand.

“jungkook,”

your voice is calmer and quieter. he whips his head back, concerned eyes twinkling from the blaring headlights on the road.

“i’m thirsty.”

—

you’re blissfully unaware of jungkook falling in love with you from the opposite side of the table.

thoroughly engrossed with the movie-like scene outside the glass wall, you’re clutching an apple juice box in both hands, plastic straw stuck between your lips as you take baby sips. he probably sounds like a broken record, but there’s something different in the air tonight, and you’re twice as pretty in his eyes.

“i can sue you for that, you know?”

he drops his phone in shock. he chases it in pure panic as it clashes with the table before tumbling down to his lap. when he puts it down, the screen is already black, a desperate attempt of hiding the raw evidence of his offense. he smiles back at you sheepishly, cheeks and ears flushed after being caught red-handed.

“aren’t i cute? you already made it your lockscreen, haven’t you?” you tease, eyes flickering up to him as you begin stabbing at the chocolate sundae with the little plastic spoon to mix it.

“made what my lockscreen? no, i didn’t!” he strongly denies, holding up his phone to show it to you.

“plain black, really? what happened to gureumie?”

you send him a look of distaste.

“just makes me believe i’m really your lockscreen and you change it to something random before you come see me.” you say in a sing-song voice, shivering with delight after you lick your spoon clean of the sugary treat.

“don’t start. yours is your class schedule!” he retorts with a laugh, which goes up in volume when you slap his hand away for attempting to steal from your fries.

you scowl at him with a displeased pout, dipping a fry into the sundae before popping it in your mouth. “get away. i’m hungrier because you took so long.”

the effect of having your cravings satisfied is instantaneous. it was absolute hell, being sick, albeit it was only a cough accompanied by fatigue. it’s simply no fun being an adult and having no one enter your room every two hours to check up on you. for the first time in the past week, your brain is completely flooded with happy chemicals, and you feel like a little kid kicking their feet with glee.

“it’s not my fault! they had to do something to the ice cream machine… i-i think it stopped working.” jungkook stutters, stuffing his mouth full with a spoonful of his strawberry sundae.

of course, it’s the ice cream machine. it’s always the ice cream machine.

with a gasp, you weakly slam the empty juice box on the table. “wow, i almost didn’t get what i came here for.”

“but you did. ‘cause you’re with your lucky charm.” jungkook cheekily winks at you, and you long to kiss that stupid grin off his face.

—

“holy shit, he’s kneeling down now. kook, he’s begging- look-”

jungkook is convinced he has never seen your eyes this big. he looks at you dumbfoundedly, cheeks full as he chews a huge bite of his burger. you release a sigh, reaching over to turn his face to the side.

outside, just a few feet away at the opposite direction his body is facing, he discovers an angry tear-stained woman sitting on a bench and a man crying on his knees infront of her.

he swallows, tilting his head. huh, so this is what you were watching earlier when you didn’t notice him arrive with the food. funnily enough, this isn’t considered an unusual occurence in such a populated city.

“i knew it. he’s cheating, he’s definitely cheating.” you squint at the scene, shooting daggers in your mind. you rely on muscle memory as you continue to munch and dip your fries in the sundae without bothering to look anymore.

they were still arguing when you gave jungkook your undivided attention, but the shift in the atmosphere captured your interest again when your peripheral vision caught him on the ground.

“how do you know?”

“he panicked and snatched his phone away when she touched it. that’s why they started fighting.”

a sick feeling in your gut deflects your eyes away from the forlorn couple, the salt and the sugar in your food starting to taste bland on your tongue. on the other hand, it seems that it’s jungkook’s turn to be absorbed in them.

“oh, that makes sense.” he mutters under his breath, eyebrows furrowing as he frowns. “seriously, i’ll never understand cheaters. why… would you go out of your way to hurt a person who’s special to you?”

and because of that, his food are left to be unsupervised. with the hopes of resparking your appetite by stealing a taste of something you haven’t had in over a year, you scoop up a small bite of his strawberry sundae.

“that person isn’t special anymore, or maybe they never were in the first place.”

“but if you’re loved by that person, even if you don’t feel the same way anymore, shouldn’t they still be special to you in some ways?”

he returns to his previous position, and the passion written in his eyes like constellations makes you want to believe that maybe the world isn’t a lost cause. it’s a breath of fresh air — the new point of view clear as day infront of you. jungkook is your best friend, it dawns on you then and there.

a best friend who sends you pictures of the sky. a best friend who won’t let you roam the midnight streets with melancholy. a best friend you want to kiss and hold hands with.

“they should, but they’re horny assholes who don’t think about stuff like that.”

“ah, then what a shame.” he chuckles with a scornful shake of his head, finally going back to devouring his burger.

it’s silent for a few beats.

right now, you like the strawberry flavor more than the chocolate. it tastes better than you remember. it’s rekindling an old flame.

“are you that type of boyfriend? who gives out their password?” your voice is rife with interest as you casually steal another spoonful of jungkook’s dessert.

“of course, i don’t mind. i have nothing to hide. i just have the most random photos, and like a thousand voice memos… but… how do i say it?” he pauses to organize his thoughts, eyes pointing towards ceiling. “uhm, it can get uncomfortable, and hurtful… if they always thoroughly check everything. i don’t know…”

“no, i get that. my ex was doubtful of me all the time and it was tiring. giving reassurance is important, but so is having boundaries… never forget that, understand?”

you radiate with so much tenderness, he finds it so easy to listen to every word that you say. but since you already understand the importance of balancing those two things, can he just forget about it and admire your face?

“is that why you broke up with him?”

you pucker your lips in thought, playfully twirling the plastic spoon between your fingers.

“i guess so? he… he just sees me as a bad person. and i was starting to believe that i am.” you decide to put it lightly, scoffing when the mortifying memories of him floods your mind. “when i had that epiphany, i broke up with him right away. we just weren’t good for each other.”

jungkook utters your name, mellow and sweet, like a serenade.

you’re reminded that he sings for a living.

“hmm?”

“i don’t know what happened between you but… when i say you’re a good person, i’m really being sincere.”

during the fall, talking about your past relationship made your heart feel unbearably heavy.

but tonight, it’s winter. jungkook holds out his little spoon to feed you a bite of his strawberry sundae, and you accept it without thinking.

uh-oh.

you peer up to him shyly.

“and because you were so kind to me the first time we met, i don’t mind you being a thief.” he fondly strokes your hair, and you squeeze your eyes shut as your body vibrates with giggles. “aigoo, you eat so well. good job, ____.”

—

“where you are taking me? this isn’t the way home!”

jungkook has an arm around swung over your shoulder, gluing you to his side as you walk together. the last time you checked the time, it was 1:27am. the stores you brush past are already lights off, locked up, and the sidewalk is mostly dead and quiet.

“i really like taking photos, you know?” he grins, sounding thrilled, and you glance at him with suspicion in your eyes.

“i’m very much aware. and so?”

you yawn not long after, leaning some of your weight on him as tiredness seeps into your overused muscles. you’re awfully sleepy, and cold. you can hear your bed calling out your name from kilometers away.

“so we’ll take some together.”

from a distance, you immediately recognize the famous photobooth only several buildings away from the noisy night life of the long rows of bars and nightclubs.

you feel your knees go weaker.

oh, you’re in very serious trouble.

—

curse jeon jungkook.

curse him and his muscular thighs.

“sit here?” he pats his lap as an invitation, looking up to your motionless figure still standing infront of the closed curtain. “or do you want me to stand behind the chair?”

curse him and his intoxicating perfume and his arm wrapped around your waist.

“four photos and… we’ll print… two copies.” he thinks out loud, face so close to yours as he taps on the screen infront.

curse the stupid person who decided to only put one small stool in this small photobooth.

you won’t dare to make it obvious, but your heart is doing somersaults. you realize how arrogant you were for whining about him not kissing you yet, because here you are trying your hardest not to squirm as you’re sat across his lap.

unconsciously, you embrace the scarf he took off close to your chest.

it’s… been quite a long, torturous while of being deprived of physical touch. and you like jungkook. you like jungkook so much that despite hating cramped spaces, you flash the camera a sweet smile while playfully squishing his pouty face in your hand.

“oh, oh, that’s right!”

a yellow lightbulb appears above his head. he bounces his legs to capture your attention, his arms tightening around your waist to prevent you from falling off.

you cross your thighs to subtly squeeze them together, a poor attempt at putting out the fiery tingles spreading throughout your body. you swallow thickly. he needs to fucking sit still. your self-control is running thin.

“act angry at me and i’ll put it as the first picture, okay?”

“huh? why?”

“so i’ll always remember that you got annoyed at me for dragging you here.”

“and i’m still annoyed!” you slap his chest with a frown, glaring at him exactly as he imagined you would.

his mischievous grin stays when he faces the camera, winking and throwing up a peace sign as the flash goes off.

when the timer starts again, he rushes to reach for the floor, sticking his hand in the paper bag from the pharmacy.

“for the next one- stay still-”

you’re completely clueless. your vision remains fixed on him until he reveals a bunch of pink ribbon hairclips on his big palm.

“where did you get these?” you blink at him.

he only shushes you as he removes the earwarmers from your head, thoughtfully fixing your hair before carefully adorning it with the ribbons as fast as he can.

“the ice cream machine wasn’t broken, was it?”

“shhh, we’re running out of time.” he rebukes you to mask his bashfulness, teeth sinking in his bottom lip as he focuses on arranging the ribbons symetrically.

“are these mine?”

“yours.” he confirms absentmindedly. he backs up to inspect his work, but he only ends up thinking to himself is it right for someone to be this beautiful?

the time runs out before you can deem yourself ready. the camera captures jungkook trying to tame your baby hairs, and you, watching him with a faint smile of affection.

“what do we do now?”

he shrugs. “let’s do whatever we want.”

“wow, i can finally do what i want?” you reply sarcastically. “i thought you were prepared for this.”

“three seconds!”

since you’re already smiling in the other two photos, you figure that it’s your turn to pout in the last.

the number ‘1’ appears on the screen, and you feel him pull you closer than you’ve ever been.

curse jeon jungkook.

curse him and his hand on your neck and his soft lips pressed to your cheek.

—

“you’re sneaky.”

“you’re one to talk.” jungkook replies, and you roll your eyes.

he chuckles to himself as he scans his copy of the photostrip under the street lamp beside the photobooth. on the other hand, your back is resting against it, your arms crossed over your chest. you take a fleeting glance at him, secretly smiling to yourself because he looks so happy.

yours is tucked in between the pages of the book inside your bag.

later. you can look at it later when you’re a little more sane and the ghost of his lips stops lingering on your skin.

“i don’t just let myself get kissed for free. don’t you know that?” you heave a dramatic sigh, feigning annoyance. “but since you bought me new clips,”

you turn your cheek to stare at him, but you instantly break the eye contact when you see how he looks like an excited puppy when he’s amused by you.

“…i’ll let this pass.”

“i think i just found the motivation to make more money today.”

you crack up at his words. “shut up!”

god, you’re getting swayed by his antics. he has too much hidden underneath his sleeve. you need to up your game.

a breeze sweeps across the earth, and you sniffle as you stuff your hands in your pockets. it’s getting colder and your battery is draining rapidly as the clock ticks. you die a little inside when you think about the consequences of your late-night adventure. there has to be time for you to squeeze in a nap between school and work, right? right? unbeknownst to you, jungkook takes notice of your weary state. he crosses the distance between you to wrap the ear warmers around your head.

“tsk, you’re going to catch a cold.” he whispers, loosely tying the straps under your chin. he reaches for a ribbon, but then pauses to ask for permission. “do you want to take off these now, so you won’t fall asleep on them? these are kind of sharp.”

“stop taking such good care of me.” you say half-jokingly, starting to remove them on your own. “i might get used to it.”

this upsets jungkook, it seems.

his lips are in a permanent pout as he answers, eyebrows knitting together. “what’s wrong with that?”

you only shake your head with a vague smile.

—

JK :

4:11am

[sent four photos]

credit GCF if you post on insta

got it?

you’re welcome !!!

4:13am

hehe you must be sleeping now right?

you better be !

4:18am

the truth is i’m a bit shy to tell you this in person but ... thank you for being someone i can spend time with comfortably and for always making me smile. i really like you a lot .. i mean that sincerely too

sweet dreams ____ :)

—

“goodnight, jungkook.”

you stood on your toes to kiss his cheek, painstakingly chaste yet sinfully calculated. he was left all alone in the empty hallway of your apartment floor, too stunned to remember and return your scarf.

it is not the first time you did that, but his mind is reeling like crazy tonight — the corner of his lips is still stained with the graze of your lips.

a rhythmic knock snaps him out of the electrifying memory.

“jungkook-ah,” a freshly-awoken jimin raspily croaks out while he rubs his blurry eyes. “did you bring home anything?”

is this becoming a routine now? him visiting at an ungodly hour in the morning; jungkook sitting up without a word to retrieve the snacks from under his bed.

“thank you.”

he receives an appreciative pat on the back before jimin grabs one of the diamond-shaped biscuits you earnestly made a whole tray of, enough to go around for seven people. he nibbles on it as he flops down on the mattress, planning to sleep here some more until it’s time to prepare for work.

however, his drowsiness gets pushed to the back burner when the photostrip beside the maknae’s pillow attracts his attention.

“yo, jungkook! is this from tonight?”

“hyung! be quiet!” jungkook whisper-shouts.

“the staff didn’t mention a photobooth to me. is this a secret?” the late-night visitor whispers back to humor him.

the bed creaks as he chases the printed memories from jimin’s grasp, who seems to have gained enough energy to tease him, heartily giggling as he rolls away to the edge of the bed.

“yah, you’re so cute together?!”

jungkook’s bunny teeth pop out as he’s unable to resist a satisfied beam at the flattering remark. damn right, they do.

pulling out a pillow from behind him, he playfully hits jimin with the huge bundle of cotton. “hyung, finish eating and go back to sleep. we have that thing later, remember?”

“you’re hurting my feelings. what happened to telling your hyung about your crush?”

—

“wait a second- i’m still confused. you sprinted to the fashion boutique before ordering?” jimin flips over to lie down on his stomach, speech muffled by the biscuit between his lips.

“they close at midnight, so i had to run there first.” jungkook explains as he reseals the tupperware. weirdly, he only feels the ache in his body now that he’s talking about it. “they really like things like that.”

“you’ve told me. so how long do you plan on keeping that in here?”

his gaze lands on the paper bag labelled ‘CHANEL’ on the other side of the room, and he makes a pained expression, still agonizing over whether he should give it to you or not.

“but don’t you think it’s too much? maybe i should save it for their birthday.”

“be honest with me. do they even know you’re courting them?”

—

taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

—

#jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook drabble #jungkook scenario #jungkook imagine #jungkook one shot #jungkook au #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts fluff #bts reaction #jungkook angst #jungkook smut

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