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jeonginsleftcheek · 3 days

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The sun to me

Chapter II. Water drop.

pairing: hwang hyunjin x afab!reader

word count: 5.1k

chapter summary: you could say that destiny always has a way of bringing together the souls that need each other. hyunjin meets not one but two people who will change his life for good.

warnings: tw for brief and vague mention of depression and suicide

~ Masterlist for the series

~ next part

🤍 Snowdrop - hope and the ability to overcome challenges.

Deep breath in.

Hyunjin feels like his lungs are expanding, like a flower opening up its petals to receive the warmth of the sun.

It takes him a few seconds to even register the sounds of people who were aboard the ship with him, laughing, talking, walking further away from the pier.

Someone walks towards him and for a brief moment his chest constricts as he waits to be questioned, bothered and ogled at but the man passes him by, saying hello to one of the crew members.

Hyunjin exhales and starts walking towards the road, he needs to track down the location of the room he barely managed to find on the internet.

It was a hassle, getting to the owner of the little apartment, since it wasn't summer yet and the tourists haven't even started arriving. Not that many people even come to this island, which is exactly why Hyunjin chose to hide away on it.

He knows, hopes, no one here has heard about him. He hopes he can just be a regular guy and go about his day, reset his body and his mind.

Fishing out his phone out of his pocket as he stops walking, he frowns immediately upon seeing it blowing up with messages.

Good thing he put it on silent or he might've just let his intrusive thoughts win and chucked the godforsaken device right into the sea.

Hyunjin ignores all the little bubbles and notifications, opting to just find the address on google again.

The island is so small, so unknown, so irrelevant that even after finding the address information, it seems that gps has trouble finding him on the map.

It's like he literally fell off the face of Earth and for some reason, that brings him relief.

He stuffs his phone back in his pocket, he's gonna have to find someone to ask for directions.

He looks around, noticing everyone cleared away from the pier so he just follows the first street down.

It's eerily quiet, even on such a sunny, lively day, the sound of his suitcase being dragged breaking the beautiful peace of the island. All the houses are adorned with flower pots on their windows and balconies, colorful gardens inviting you in, mesmerizing like a flower is to a bee.

Hyunjin hopes he can find some kind of shop or cafe or anything with people in it, but all he comes across are a few cats sitting on a low roof and staring at him menacingly, as if asking 'what the hell are you doing here'.

He sighs in frustration, thinking he'll actually have to knock on someone's door and disturb their Friday afternoon peace.

Just when he's mentally prepared himself to knock on a stranger's door and potentially have them yell at him, his eyes light up.

There, on the corner, is a little flower shop like an oasis in a desert, promising safety and aid. Hyunjin speeds up towards it, the suitcase almost flipping behind him as it bumps against the uneven and cracked sidewalk.

It's time for your lunch break, the old clock on the wall reminds you together with your stomach, growling embarassingly loudly.

You're behind the counter, about to grab your bag and keys, when you hear footsteps approaching and the sound of suitcase wheels scraping against the stones before they come to a stop in front of the door.

"Um, hello?"- you hear a pleasant and curious voice ring out from the outside, you almost want to curse the person out because everyone on the island knows when lunch breaks happen, but judging by the suitcase and the unknown voice it must be someone who just arrived here for the first time.

"Hello, come in!"- you sense the apprehension and you walk around the counter, coming face to face with what you would describe as a man made of dreams.

Your breath gets stuck in your throat, and his reaction seems to be similar, as his eyes widen slowly to the point where he almost looks completely bamboozled as his lips part and he just stares.

Quickly shaking it off and putting on your customer service persona, you smile at the stranger.

"How can I help you?"- you ask and he swallows, closing his lips as he seems to snap out of whatever trance he fell in.

"I- um- I'm looking for this address. I booked a room here, but I can't seem to find it on google maps."- the stranger pulls his phone out and shows you the address and you nod.

"Oh, at Isaac's. It's not too far away from here, just keep going straight until you see a blue house, then go right and up the hill a little bit, you can't miss it since it's the biggest house on that street."- you explain.

"Oh, thank you! I thought I was gonna get lost."- he smiles a little and you chuckle, shaking your head. This seems to deepen the redness of the young man's cheeks.

"You can't get lost here. The island is so small, you can circle around it three times in one day and still have some daylight left. Plus, most of the time the internet doesn't even work so you can't rely on gps. If you need to make calls or such, you'd best stand on the pier and try to catch the signal."

"Oh, thank you for the tips. I'm actually relieved that there's no internet."- the man says, running a hand through his dark hair.

You quirk an eyebrow at him, your eyes running over his frame.

"That's a first. People usually complain about that."- you say, as you take in his expensive looking jewelry, the branded shirt hugging his lean but toned frame, jeans also probably more expensive than your entire wardrobe and the fancy sneakers on his feet.

"Then they've probably come to the wrong place."- he concludes with a small smile.

"Probably."- you agree, ready to end the chat even though literal eye candy was standing in front of you, you craved a warm meal more than anything else.

There was a moment of awkward silence as the handsome stranger sucked his bottom lip between his teeth, bringing your attention to it.

"Well, it's my lunch break, so... If I can't assist you with buying some flowers, I'd like to close up shop."- you say as politely as you can.

"Oh! Sure, sorry for taking up your time."- he looks apologetic as you round your counter to grab your things.

"It's okay, glad I could help."- you smile as the both of you make your way towards the exit.

"I'm Hyunjin, by the way."- he reaches his hand towards you just as you close the door.

"Y/n."- your hand slots into his and he shakes it, soft but firm.

"Nice to meet you, y/n."- something about the way your name rolls from his pillowy lips melts the ice built around your heart, gentle like the first snowdrop peeking it's head through the snow.

There's something different bubbling up inside Hyunjin, something he hasn't felt in a long time.

As he makes his way up the little hill towards the biggest house with faded yellow paint, chipped at some parts of the wall, his heart skips a few beats.

Maybe it's because he's been a bit out of shape lately, or maybe it's because of you.

You with your genuine smile, you with your curious eyes and with all the pretty flowers surrounding you.

The flowers that used to bring inspiration and comfort to Hyunjin, ones he painted so happily, his hand gliding easily across the once blank canvas, the colors all bleeding into one another, kissing and loving.

The feeling he forgot. The feeling of love. The feeling of home. The nostalgia that inevitably comes with it.

Hyunjin knocks on the big wooden door, and after a few moments he hears heavy footsteps and a voice calling out.

The door swings open and a man probably in his 60s stands in the frame with a friendly smile on his face.

His grey hair is neatly pulled back, the wrinkles on his face are proof of how many years he smiled and frowned. There's a sparkle in his eyes and a bright smile on his face, showing off perfectly white teeth that he probably had done.

He's dressed in a simple black turtleneck and grey pants, the only ornament on his body in the shape of a huge silver ring, a black tourmaline stone in the middle of it.

"Welcome, welcome! You must be Hyunjin. Come in, young man."- the man smiles wide, immediately helping Hyunjin with his suitcase and stepping aside so he could come in.

"My name is Isaac. But you probably already had that figured out."- the man waves his hand as if to dismiss what he just said. "Welcome to my humble abode, I hope your stay here is as cozy as can be."- Isaac says, leading Hyunjin through the lobby and towards the big carpeted wooden stairs.

The house looks old but well taken care of, everything is wiped clean and polished, each nook and cranny devoid of any dust and neglect.

Hyunjin can't help but notice the skillfully crafted wood on the handrail, as well as a few other sculptures carved out of wood, taking the shape of people with their head in their hands who are desperately crying, lovers holding onto each other where you can't even tell where one ends and the other starts, beautiful women with big breasts and tummies lying on their side, vunerable and goddess-like.

Isaac eyes Hyunjin carefully as he seems glued to all the works of art around him, probably forgetting that he should be settling into his room and eating something.

"What do you think, young man?"- Isaac asks, making Hyunjin jolt a little as he looks up for a second before the carved sculptures grab his attention again.

"Very beautiful pieces, there's so much detail in each and every one. They must be very expensive."- Hyunjin comments making the older man chuckle deeply.

"Yes, very expensive. Cost me a lot of time and patience. And then of course, there's the material. The actual wood."- Isaac crosses his arms on his chest and Hyunjin needs a few seconds before a lightbulb appears above his head.

"Oh... Oh, you made them. That's incredible, you're an artist."- Hyunjin smiles, somewhat chuckling ironically for the fact that he can't seem to escape that which he considers brought him to the state he's in right now. "I'm kind of an artist too."- he downplays whatever life he built, suddenly feeling too dumb and embarassed do act boisterous in front of Isaac.

"Let me see your hands."- Isaac says and Hyunjin doesn't question him, just reaches his hands towards the man and Isaac leans down a little, his lips pursed as he folds his hands behind his back, a quiet hum in the back of his throat.

"You're a painter."- Isaac concludes before lifting up.

"How did you know?"- Hyunjin's eyes widen just a little, his eyebrows lifting up and Isaac lets out a laugh.

"Your skin is too pristine for anything else. But your nails are stained a little."- Hyunjin brings his hands up, closer to his face, and stares as if he sees his own hands for the first time.

He never noticed the slight staining on his fingers, almost forgetting the fact that beyond all the expensive paintbrushes and tools, an artist's work comes from his hands and his heart.

Is his heart stained too?

"Which one calls to you the most?"- Isaac brings him out of his thoughts again with his warm and patient voice and Hyunjin follows his line of sight, landing his eyes on the beautiful wooden sculptures again.

Maybe if he was younger he'd choose the woman, her breasts full and supple, inviting him to lay his head on them, wrap his lips around the tender nipples.

Maybe if he wasn't so jaded, he'd choose the lovers because love is the greatest feeling of them all, love is what makes people climb the highest mountain peak, swim the deepest ocean, reach the furthest star.

But Hyunjin can't help but stare at the man sitting in despair, fingertips digging into his own forehead as if he wants to rip his face out, take his brain out and scream at it.

Isaac sees. He sees through Hyunjin, he was once like him. Caught in the web of self-hatred and nihilism, despising everything he once held so dearly in his heart.

"You must be hungry."- Isaac never comments on Hyunjin's silent choice and he's thankful for that.

"Actually, yes."- Hyunjin feels the emptiness in his stomach as soon as food is mentioned and he realizes he hasn't eaten anything since last night.

"Why don't you get settled in and I will heat up some dinner?"- Isaac suggests and Hyunjin quickly shakes his head.

"You don't need to do that for me, I'm sure you have other business to attend to."- Hyunjin says.

"Nonsense, I don't mind at all. Honestly, it gets a little lonely here before the tourists start coming in so it would be nice to have someone to talk to. Other than my sculptures, that is."- Isaac says with a chuckle.

"Alright, if it's no bother then."- Hyunjin nods, giving a small smile to the warm man.

"Your room is the last door on the right."- Isaac points towards the staircase.

"Thank you."

Isaac smiles, quickly turning on his heel and leaving, presumably to the kitchen.

Hyunjin makes his way upstairs, his suitcase in his hands, the floorboards look too old and sensitive to drag the harsh wheels on them so he opts to just keep carrying his suitcase to his room.

Every wall is adorned with framed wooden carvings, sculptures even bigger than the ones downstairs are sitting in the corners of the hall.

Hyunjin curiously eyes every single one of them, waiting for them to suddenly come alive and move.

He shakes his head quickly, opening the last door on the right.

A loud gasp escapes his lips as soon as he walks into the room. It's bigger than he thought it would be, decorated like the rest of the house, everything is carved out of wood and the works of art made from Isaac's hands have become a staple that Hyunjin's eyes are already getting used to.

Hyunjin lays his suitcase down next to the closet and his legs first take him to the big window, the curtains pulled back and neatly tied up on the sides of the window frame.

The view is breathtaking, being up on the hill allows him to see almost everything, the sea, the shore, the main square with a church and also part of the little flower shop that he was just inside a few minutes ago.

Hyunjin needs to snap a picture. He fishes out his camera and after adjusting it, he takes a few pictures of the beautiful view, zooming in on the flower shop for a second and seeing that the door is still closed and the lights are still off.

You must be on your lunch break as you said.

He looks around the room again, the huge bed looks inviting after traveling for hours but he needs to eat something first.

The room that's warm and lived in, the smell of varnished wood and cinnamon enveloping his senses, the lively art pieces around him, make for a big contrast to Hyunjin's modern apartment, cold steel, black leather, the smell of cleanliness, the perfection of it all, the paintings that he despises from the bottom of his soul.

The ones he made in a state of delirium because Charlie was pressuring him, because people want more, because he needs to meet the deadline, because he's obligated to do them.

A metallic taste spreads inside Hyunjin's mouth and it takes him a few seconds to realize he bit his lip so hard that he drew blood.

He curses under his breath, walking into the adjoining bathroom to wash his mouth and thoughts away.

Lunch break was something you loved to spend in your favorite restaurant unless it was tourist season.

Then, it would get too crowded for your liking so you'd just go back home and eat before re-opening your shop.

Everything is 2-3 minutes of walking distance, your shop and your home, and the restaurant that a young married couple owns.

"The usual?"- Bennet peeked his head from behind the kitchen wall, and you chuckled giving the man a thumbs up.

You took your book out of your bag and looked out the window before little giggles on your left caught your attention and you turn to see Luna, the owner's 6 year old daughter, staring at you with big shiny eyes and holding a makeshift daisy bouquet in her little hands.

"Oh, is that for me?"- you ask slowly, pointing at yourself.

She stares at your lips before giving a little nod and another giggle before she reaches the flowers towards you.

Your hand is placed on your chin, then reached towards her as you mouth a 'thank you'.

She smiles happily, her chubby cheeks rosy before she runs away to play.

Catherine is quick to catch up to the little girl, gently grabbing her shoulders before signing a 'be careful' to which the girl nods and mouths an 'okay'.

"Hey, y/n."- Catherine lets out a sigh and you chuckle.

"Is she giving you a hard time today?"- you ask as she puts your lemonade down on the table.

"Try yelling at a deaf child to watch out from a distance."- she shakes her head, a bead of sweet running down her forehead. "My whole life flashed before my eyes, but luckily it was Delmar and he managed to stop his car just in time."

"Heart attack inducing stuff."- you nod. "But everything ended well and I'm sure she'll be more careful now."

"I hope so too."- Catherine nods with a smile, before turning to go check on her daughter.

You sigh quietly, looking through the window again as you sip on your lemonade when suddenly, the face of the handsome stranger called Hyunjin appears in your mind.

There's something that flickers in your chest at the thought of his smile. Then it clicks.

He's probably the celebrity that Barbara talked about, he must be an actor or a singer with a face like that, you think.

You wonder why he would come here though.

Maybe he got sick of all the glitz and glitter that being famous brings. That's something you could never be, live in the spotlight like that, to be picked at and proded at like you were some kind of test subject, looked at like you were some kind of animal in a cage, existing to entertain other people.

"Here you go, y/n."- a plate is placed on your table, snapping you out of your thoughts.

"Oh, thank you."- you smile at Bennet, as the aroma of your favorite meal fills up your space, making your stomach growl again.

It's quiet as you start eating and as always you ask Catherine and Luna to join you, which they usually happily agree to unless there are customers to attend to.

Bennet whips up their favorites quickly and excuses himself because he has a kitchen to clean, as he says, while you learn a few new words that help you communicate with Luna.

The sounds of utensils clinking against plates fill up the room as Hyunjin and Isaac sit in his dining room. It's the most lavish room yet, the table they're eating on feels too precious to even be used so Hyunjin is extra careful with his meal.

The big chandelier hangs above their heads, the sunlight shining through the huge windows that reveal a balcony, reflects in the crystal pendants decorating the chandelier, creating little rainbows scattered around the room.

"My father made this table."- Isaac notices Hyunjin looking at it, as if he's deep in thought.

"It's really exquisite. I feel a little apprehensive using it as a regular dining table."- Hyunjin says and Isaac chuckles.

"We ate on it every day. And then my wife and son too."- Isaac says, the mood shifting suddenly as a sad smile spreads on his face.

"You have a son?"- Hyunjin asks, taking another bite of the meat.

"I had a son."- Isaac nods and Hyunjin feels bad that he pried.

"I'm sorry."- he didn't want to dig into someone's wound so he looked down at his plate, feeling remorseful for asking.

"It's okay, it's been years. He was probably around your age when he left us."- Isaac reminisces.

"Was he sick?"- Hyunjin asks, seeing that Isaac wanted to talk about his son, maybe it brought him some kind of comfort to keep the memory of him alive.

"He was... sad. Very sad. We tried everything. But nothing could light the spark in his eyes."- Isaac shivers with a sad smile.

"I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have asked anything."- Hyunjin quickly says, feeling embarassed for himself and sad for the kind man sitting across from him.

"No, it's okay, you didn't know."- Isaac shakes his head. "I like talking about my son. He was also great with woodwork. I learned from my father and he learned from me. Guess it runs in the family."- he nods with a small smile.

"If you'd like, I could teach you some woodworking too."- Isaac suggests before Hyunjin can say anything.

He can see the turmoil on Hyunjin's face, the cogs turning behind his eyes as he struggles with whether to love or hate that suggestion.

"I'll be in my studio later if you want to join me."- Isaac intervenes quickly, pointing to the hall.

"What was his name, if you don't mind me asking?"- Hyunjin asks after a few moments of silence, referring to Isaac's son.

"Leo."- Isaac says with a kind of pain in his voice.

Hyunjin finds those three letters etched into the windowsill in the room he booked, his fingertips tracing the chipped wood, realizing quickly that this room once belonged to him.

Hyunjin doesn't join Isaac in his studio, he can't bear to even think about painting or woodwork at this moment, all he wants is to feel free from the confines he created for himself.

After lunch, he took a much needed nap and then an even more needed warm shower. He walks out into the room with only a towel wrapped around his waist, using another one to dry his hair.

Being up on the hill probably caught some signal on his phone as it buzzes next to the bed. Hyunjin frowns, making his way to it and grabbing it.

Charlie. Of course.

In the heat of the moment, he doesn't think, he just chucks the phone on the bed and it bounces up and smacks into the closet and then lands down on the floor with a loud thud, the battery falling out.

"That oughta do it."- he says quietly, leaving the device where it landed.

Hyunjin gets dressed quickly, grabbing his backpack and camera before he makes his way downstairs. He glances shortly at the big door leading to Isaac's studio, something heavy weighing on his chest before he turns away and walks out of the house.

There's nothing like watching the sunset while sitting on the beach. The beautiful golden rays mixing with the orange and pink hues, reflecting on the water as the sun itself drowns in it.

You're sitting with your little diary in your hands, well one of many you have, one that still has empty pages you have to fill up.

Most of them consist of dried up flowers and even a few little sketches you did, sometimes you write something you found funny in it, sometimes you pour your soul out on the pages, your tears blurring your vision and smearing the ink of your pen.

Today, the page is blank but your mind isn't.

For some reason, it's filled with Hyunjin and you wish you were better at drawing people so that your hand could capture the face that was already etched in your brain even after you only saw him once.

A twig snaps behind you, and you quickly turn around, jolting a little.

He appears in your view like he was summoned, like he was there to help you see his face again so that you could maybe try to capture the beauty on paper.

"Oh..."- he also jolts a little like he got frightened by your presence. "Y/n, right?"- he licks his lips and swallows, as his feet come to a halt.

"Yeah."- you nod.

"Sorry if I scared you. Kinda scared myself too."- Hyunjin says with a timid smile, still keeping a good distance away from you.

"It's okay. Usually, no one comes here at this time so I was surprised."- you say and he slowly makes his way to you.

"Mind if I join you?"- he asks, almost timidly and you have to wonder what kind of celebrity is shy like that.

"Sure."- you nod and he comes closer, slowly sitting down on the rock next to yours.

"I decided to explore the island a little. And you were right, I saw everything in one evening."- he chuckles as he looks at you, then at the notebook in your hands curiously.

"Are you sure you saw everything? There are a few hidden spots here that only the locals know about."- you eye the camera in his hands.

Such pretty hands.

"Oh really? Is there a guide who could show me some of those hidden spots?"- he asks and you let out a small chuckle.

"Depends on how much you pay up."- you say and he looks at you before you start chuckling, making him chuckle too.

"I'm joking, of course. I mean, I'm free tomorrow if you want me to give you the real tour of the island."- you suggest, wiggling your eyebrows.

"I would love that."- Hyunjin nods, a smile spreading on his face that makes his eyes crinkle.

When was the last time he smiled like that?

Hyunjin lifts up his camera to snap a few pictures of the sunset and you can't help but look at his features more closely while he's distracted.

Beneath the smile and the obviously expensive attire, something inside him seems sad and tired, you can feel it meandering between your bodies.

"Is that a sketchbook?"- Hyunjin asks curiously, as you play with the cover of your notebook.

"Kind of. It's a sliver of my thoughts, if you will."- you say as you stare at it.

"Can I see?"- he asks and you look up at him, genuine interest painted on his face.

"Sure, I'll show you some sketches, just not the things I write."

"Yeah, of course, I don't want to invade your privacy."- he says and you nod, finding a page where you sketched a few tulips from different angles.

"Oh, that's really pretty. I like your shading."- Hyunjin leans in closer and you get a whiff of his shampoo that gets you feeling entranced for a moment.

"Ah, thank you. I'm not the best at drawing at all, it's just that I'm good with anything that has to do with flowers."- you smile, somewhat sadly, Hyunjin notices and something pulls him to you.

He wants to know everything, he wants to tell you everything.

But he's afraid.

He's afraid of revealing the truth, afraid of bursting the little bubble appearing around the two of you, he's frightened to open his soul up, only to find it was rotten, only to see you turn away.

Hyunjin is someone who believes, well, used to believe in love at first sight but that was before he destroyed everything gentle and pure inside him, creating another person out of the broken shards, a fake person, a disgusting and cold person who fades away into other darkened souls, lost in the abyss of eternal nothingness.

"You're an expert in your field. That's admirable."- Hyunjin manages to dig up anything that feels gentle, even for a split second.

"What about you? What is your field of expertise?"- you ask and Hyunjin dreads answering and talking about that which he despises right now.

"Art, I guess. Painting to be exact. I'm a painter?"

"You say that like you're unsure of it."- you give him an inquisitive smile.

"Sometimes you forget who you are and why you even do what you do. Sometimes, something you always knew and loved gets further away from you the more you try to reach out for it."- Hyunjin talks and you giggle, putting your notebook aside.

"Are you sure you're not a poet?"- you tease and Hyunjin chuckles nervously, his cheeks becoming rosy like the cotton candy clouds in the sunset before you.

"I'm better with colors than words, or at least I was."- he says, scratching his head as he purses his lips.

"You talk so nicely so I'm sure your art is even nicer."- you conclude.

It hasn't even been a day since he first laid his eyes upon you, but Hyunjin feels like you set his mind at ease with little effort, with just a few words and a sweet smile.

"Thank you."- he smiles. "I'll show you another time. I don't have my phone on me."- he adds.

"Looking forward to that."- you say. "And what you said earlier, I relate to it. Sometimes I feel like that with my flowers. But they're all I really know."- you shrug. "I always come back to them."

"Yeah, I find myself sitting in front of a blank canvas many times without even painting anything. I guess it's etched into my bones by now."

"Like part of your DNA."- you follow up and Hyunjin agrees.

"Is it okay if I take a picture of you?"- he asks after a few moments of comfortable silence.

The sun has almost completely immersed itself into the water and the last light of the day illuminates your facial features perfectly, the sparkle prominent in your eyes.

Hyunjin wants to capture what you talked about, how you looked and how you smiled at him and keep it in his heart forever.

"Sure."- you nod, chuckling a little.

You turn towards the sea, the last of the sun's rays reflecting off of the surface and almost hypnotizing you as you hear the click of the camera.

Hyunjin thinks this is the best picture he ever took.

And as he walks back to his current home, he feels like destiny intertwined her hands into his life, bringing the two of you together, like this is a start to something he can't even begin to fathom yet, like whatever he searched for, he found in you.

Maybe he just met you, but deep inside his wounded soul Hyunjin knows, you will become the most important person that touched his heart.

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iamtired10 · 3 days

Text

ATTENTION

— fluffy headcanons

pairing - newjeans members x female reader

synopsis - how they would react when you don’t give them attention or are busy

warning - kisses.. and cuteness

a/n - last one :( im going to sleep. im tired ughhh

requested by — @minjis-girlfriend

minji (kim minji)

when you’re too caught up in something and not giving minji the attention she craves, she doesn’t pout or whine outright.

no, she’s too soft for that.

but don’t be fooled, she knows exactly how to get what she wants.

she’d quietly slip onto the couch beside you, her head resting on your shoulder as her fingers casually play with the hem of your shirt.

at first, she doesn’t say anything, just lets out these quiet little sighs, as if she’s trying to keep her cool.

but when that doesn’t work, she’d lean in closer, her voice soft against your ear, “are you done yet? or do i need to wait longer?”

her tone is teasing, but there’s a little edge of neediness she can’t quite hide.

and if you still ignore her, oh, she’ll take matters into her own hands.

she’d lightly grab your chin, turning your face to hers, her lips brushing yours so gently you’d barely feel it.

“hey… i’m right here. pay attention to me, okay?”

that’s when you’d cave, giving her the full attention she deserves, and she’d smile, pressing her lips to yours again as if to say, “took you long enough.”

hanni (pham hanni)

hanni’s the clingiest little brat when you don’t give her the attention she craves.

it’s cute, though—you’d be minding your own business, and suddenly she’d flop onto your lap, stretching out dramatically like she’s been suffering for hours.

“babe, hellooo? i’m literally right here, dying from neglect. do you not love me anymore?” she’d whine, her lips in a perfect pout.

she’d poke your cheek, her big puppy eyes staring right into yours, trying to guilt-trip you into looking at her.

if that didn’t work, she’d grab your face with both hands, squishing your cheeks together as she pouts dramatically. “you’re so mean. look at me. i need love.”

and when you finally give in, rolling your eyes but secretly loving her dramatics, she’d burst into giggles, snuggling into your neck.

“see? was that so hard? now kiss me, dummy.”

she’d pepper your face with kisses, giggling when you try to squirm away, but honestly, you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

danielle (danielle marsh)

danielle is a sweetheart, so when you don’t give her attention, she doesn’t get mad, but she’ll let you know in the cutest way possible.

she’d walk over, her eyes big and sad, and just sit beside you, a quiet little sigh escaping her lips.

she’d rest her head on your shoulder, fingers lightly brushing against your arm, but she wouldn’t say anything.

after a few minutes of silence, she’d quietly mumble, “i missed you today… but it’s okay, i know you’re busy.”

and just like that, she’d break your heart with how soft she is.

when you finally turn to her, feeling bad for not noticing her sooner, she’d give you this small, sweet smile, like she’s been waiting patiently the whole time.

“i just wanted a little time with you… that’s all.” she’d wrap her arms around your waist, pulling you close.

and when you hold her back, she’d snuggle deeper into your embrace, pressing the softest kiss to your cheek.

“thanks, love. that’s all i needed.”

haerin (kang haerin)

haerin isn’t one for grand gestures when she wants attention, but she makes it known in her own way.

if you’ve been ignoring her for too long, she’d just stand there, arms crossed, staring at you.

at first, you wouldn’t notice, but when you feel that intense gaze boring into you, you’d look up and see her watching you, her expression unreadable.

she wouldn’t say a word—just stand there, waiting.

you’d try to brush it off, but haerin’s patience is unmatched. she’d just stand closer, her eyes narrowing a bit as if to say, “i’m waiting.”

when you finally give up and look at her properly, she’d give a small nod, as if she’s accomplished her mission.

she’d sit beside you, wrapping her arms around your waist without saying anything.

she’d rest her head on your shoulder, and you’d know that this was her way of asking for attention—quiet and subtle, but impossible to ignore.

and when you lean in to kiss her, she’d smile softly, her grip tightening around you as if to say, “finally.”

hyein (lee hyein)

hyein? oh, she’s not subtle at all.

when she wants your attention and you’re not giving it to her, she’s gonna let you know.

she’d stomp over to wherever you are, arms crossed, her lips in a perfect pout. “are you seriously ignoring me right now? am i invisible or something?”

she’d huff, sitting down next to you with a dramatic flop.

“unbelievable. i’m your girlfriend, and you’re just sitting here, doing whatever.”

she’d glare at you for a second before grabbing your arm, pulling you into her lap. “fine, if you won’t give me attention, i’ll take it.”

hyein would hold you close, her arms around your waist, her chin resting on your shoulder.

and even though she’s acting like a brat, you know she just wants to be close to you. she’d press a kiss to your cheek.

“next time, pay attention to me, okay?” she’d whisper, her voice softening, but still full of sass.

you’d roll your eyes, but you’d kiss her cheeks, knowing full well that this is exactly what she wanted from the start.

a/n: i think i'm feeding y’all way too much 💔

#new jeans x reader #newjeans #fluff #kim minji x reader #minji x reader #oneshot #fanfic #fanfiction #pham hanni x reader #hanni x reader #danielle marsh x reader #danielle x reader #kang haerin x reader #haerin x reader #lee hyein x reader #hyein x reader

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musings-ofthe-unamused · 3 days

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CoD Headcanons: Back From a Mission Gone Wrong

A/N: Hello friends! So sorry for not posting in a while. Will try to post some hcs and fics more often!

Please check out my 200 follower giveaway if you want a chance to win a customized fic!!

Ghost:

He's so pissed

At first, he doesn't say a thing

But finally he explodes

Yelling, getting up close

He won't back down until he's got it all out

And once he does, he just walks away to cool down

"You're fucking insane! You're a trained soldier, not some war hero in a movie!"

"LT, it was just-"

His voice raised even higher until he was shouting. "No excuses! It was fucking reckless and you know it!"

"What, and you don't get to-"

"Shut the fuck up! This isn't a fucking game! I'm so sick of you trying to pull these stunts. You wanna be punished for insubordination? This is the third fucking time you haven't listened to me! And I'm so fucking sick of it!"

You felt your face growing hot. Everyone stared at the two of you as Ghost continued to yell at you. It felt so unfair. You were just doing what you thought was right. But now he was acting like you have never done a single thing right. With a thick swallow, you lowered your head. You couldn't say a thing. He eventually stopped. And once he did, he walked away, leaving you to face the stares of everyone else.

Soap:

Absolutely in shambles

He was so scared that you were gonna die

He's dealt with this before, but not in a way like this

Soap has never been so terrified

So as soon as he sees you, he clings onto you

Soap's arms were wrapped securely around you. Normally, you wouldn't mind the affection. But now that your arm was in a sling and you were trying to eat lunch, this was more of a nuisance. You groaned, trying to shake off your clingy boyfriend. He didn't budge. It's been only one day since you came back, but he's acting like you'd disappear in a puff of smoke.

"Soap, I need to eat."

He shook his head. "Five more minutes."

"Are you not embarrassed? We're literally in the cafeteria and everyone is staring." You tried pushing him off once again. No luck.

"I don't care. I almost lost you, so I'm never letting you go again."

Gaz:

He tries to make it seem like he was calm

He knows your strengths and how you manage to pull through

But Gaz can't help but let out a sigh of relief when he sees you in the infirmary

Gaz would sit down next to you and flash you a smile

Crack a joke about how you're immortal

"Well, well, well. You made it back. How unlucky." Gaz sat next to you on the cot.

You snorted and rolled your eyes. "Wow. I love your concern for me."

"I can't be concerned." He reached out, grabbing your hand. "I know you'll always come back to me."

"Of course I will."

Price:

A mix of anger and concern

The type to be super silent

That's when you know you've fucked up

Lecture in his office

Will hug you after

The office was silent except for the ticking of his clock. You watched as Price sat back in his seat, smoking a cigar. Your uninjured hand tapped nervously against your thigh. He had just spent the past twenty minutes lecturing you on being more careful and vigilant on missions. But now was the scary part. The silence.

"Captain, I'm really sorry." You finally managed to speak. "I thought I was in the clear. They just came out of nowhere, and I-"

Your words were interrupted as he suddenly got up from his desk. He stalked over to you and leaned down. He hugged you tightly. Cigar smoke curled around the both of you like a second embrace. Your body relaxed.

"Captain…"

"Don't ever do that again."

"Yes, sir."

Alejandro:

He's there when you arrive on base

Immediately looks you over to make sure you're okay

Will mutter under his breath at how reckless you are

But praises you for getting out of there alive

Alejandro was staring at you with his arms crossed as you limped off the aircraft. You could already see the gears turning in his mind, deciding if he should scold you or immediately send you to the infirmary. When you finally stood in front of him, he lifted your chin with his fingers.

"Look at you. How reckless." He mumbled under his breath. His eyes traveled over your face.

"Sorry."

"I know. But you did good, getting out of there alive. I'm proud of you."

König:

The type of anxious guy that has to be doing something

He knows your hurt when you come back, but he isn't there to see you

Instead, he's in the gym, working out

You actually have to find him

When he sees you, he just kinda breaks down a bit

König wasn't waiting for you when you got back from the mission. You wanted nothing more than to collapse in his arms and complain about how everything went wrong. And yet, he was nowhere to be found. You searched practically the whole base before finding him in the gym, lifting weights.

"I'm back." You said, walking closer to him.

His back was facing you. "I know."

"Can you look at me?"

He turned around. You could just see his shoulders deflate as he looked at your injured body. You sighed and walked up to him. He buried you in a tight hug, his cheek resting on your head. He squeezed you as tightly as possibly. You felt almost bad for messing up on the mission and worrying him.

Keegan:

Calls you idiotic, but brave

Has a bright smile on his face

Can't believe you got out of there alive

Tells you to not do that shit again

Keegan's hands slowly ran down your arms as he looked over you. His eyes were shining with pride. You had just come stumbling out of the Humvee, dizzy and disoriented. After throwing off your helmet, you stare up at Keegan.

"I didn't die!"

"No, you didn't. You're so stupid."

"But brave, right?"

"Right."

Graves:

Will make fun of you

Never thought you would fuck up a mission that badly

Will be incredibly annoying about it

Doesn't even offer to help you?!

Bitch

Graves couldn't stop laughing. He was doubled over, his hand clutching his stomach. You stood in front of him, battered and bruised. A glare was on your face as you waited for him to finish. Of course he wasn't concerned. He was an asshole, why would he be?

"I can't believe you fucked up so badly!"

"Graves…"

"You crashed into a ditch!"

"Graves, I am bleeding profusely! Shut up and help me!"

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chaos-in-deepspace · 23 hours

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LADS Rafayel: Habanbonkas | NSFW

I am obsessed with man tiddies y'all. I can't help it. Let me suck on them.

Pairings: Rafayel x Reader Warnings: Sucking boobies, slight crack, subtle grinding, switch Rafayel, bottom Rafayel, Disclaimer: This is an original fan work for “Love and Deepspace”. Do not repost on other platforms or plagiarize. All characters shown in this fic is 18+.

Blog Information | Masterlist

Rafayel

"Let me just play with them. Paint them. Touch then. Caress them!" You said as you grabbed onto Rafayel's arm." You grabbed onto Rafayel's arm. You were basically whining as you grabbed hold of him, trying to convince him to let you do something with his chest.

He had been trying to walk away from you, go to the kitchen and grab something to eat. You weren't about to let him though, you absolutely needed to do something about his chest. He had gotten a lot of paint on his shirt earlier when he accidentally fell onto his paint palette, and instead of going to change his shirt, he just took it off and was painting shirtless.

You had been staring at him ever since. How his chest seemed to move every time he took in a deep breath, the slightest jiggle of his pecs whenever he shifted. You had literally been drooling over the thought of this man and you needed him in every which way.

"I feel like I'm getting deja-vu…" He muttered as he opened the fridge to look inside. You were still tugging his arm, but the man wasn't budging.

"Please Raf, let me just suck on your tiddies! They're massive. They're huge. Perfect. Your habanbonkas are delectable!" you whined out loud and Rafayel closed the fridge and looked at you. His arms crossed over his chest to hide it a bit from your view. You could see the slightest flush on his cheeks as he glared down at you.

"Why are you so obsessed with them?" He finally asked and you stared at him for a moment. A few more seconds of silence passed between the two of you before you decided to just show him exactly why you were obsessed with his chest.

You took the bottom of your shirt and lifted it all the way, showing Rafayel your chest in the middle of the kitchen. You had nothing underneath the shirt since you were planning on going to bed soon. You could see his eyes bulging out of their sockets as he stared down at your chest for a little too long.

His gaze then snapped back to your own, his cheeks completely scarlet as he opened his mouth to say something. You dropped your shirt down and smirked, "Understand why I'm so obsessed with your own chest now?"

Rafayel took a deep breath, "Okay, understandable, you have a point. So what did you want? To just…suck on them?" He finally asked with a sigh.

"That's exactly what I want actually." You were grabbing his hand and dragging him back to the living area. Rafayel let out a noise of protest as you began dragging him down onto the couch. As soon as he was there you were sitting on his lap. His hands found your hips right away since you had been in this position with him many times in the past.

"You have five minutes." he decided, "And then I get to play with your chest." this was agreeable. There was a lot you could do in five minutes.

You didn't even speak as you went to kiss right between his chest. Both your hands going to grope one of his tits as you squeezed them together. Your thumb flicked the nipples there before just squeezing the taut skin. You heard a small gasp from him as your actions and you smirked as you placed another kiss on his skin.

Then your mouth was going to wrap around one of his nipples. Your tongue swirled over it as you let out a content hum, your other hand pinching the nipple that wasn't occupied by your mouth. Rafayel let out another small, cute noise as he rolled his hips up into you without even thinking about it.

You continued these motions, coming off one of his nipples with a loud wet pop. The bud was hardened and wet as your thumb went over it. Rafayel let out a proper groan this time when your mouth found his other nipple. You began lapping at it, sucking it into your mouth and he hissed when he felt your teeth gently grazing it.

"A-ah," he said as he noticed the time, "It's my t-turn mhn!" he said as you bit down a bit harder and looked up at him. You gave it one more lick and popped off it as well.

"You sure you want me to take a break from this?" You asked, noticing how hard he was.

Rafayel looked away from you with a flush, "Yes," he finally said and you sighed. You shifted on his lap to back away. You then went to take off your own shirt, tossing it over the back of the couch.

You took one of his hands and placed it over one of your breasts, "Alright, then you have five minutes." you said with a smirk, "Then I think after I want to play with you using my mouth a lil more." you chuckled and he groaned.

You ground down on his lap and he finally moved forward, "Is that a promise?" he asked as you brushed his bangs out of his face.

"Of course, I want every part of you in my mouth, fishie. Now go on, we had a deal," you chuckled and he looked down at your chest. Five minutes. Only five minutes and you'd have him moaning from your mouth again. You guess letting him play with your chest would be worth it for that.

#loveanddeepspace #love and deepspace #Rafayel Love and Deepspace #Lnds #Lnds Rafayel #lnds x reader #x reader #reader insert #rafayel x reader #l&ds #l&ds rafayel #l&ds rafayel x reader #lads x reader #lads rafayel #lads rafayel x reader

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idyllcy · 3 days

Text

you make me wanna make ya fall in love

word count: 1.97k || EMT Leon || slightly ooc + flirting (HIPAA violation)

summary: the 2000s called, they want their romcom plot back

"I'm actually gonna pass out." You sit on the couch, blinking rapidly as your head goes light.

"I called 911 already, so hang in there, alright?!" Ashley stays connected to the call, holding you up as you groan, stomach caving in on itself and your eyes giving out. Oh, god, is this how you die? You focus on breathing through your mouth, ignoring the way Ashley's voice is reduced to ringing and the way you're sweating buckets. Ew. Maybe you should've— oh. this is because you didn't eat, huh? It is 8pm. Yeah, this one's on you. Maybe the heavens will be nice and let a nice hot EMT show up to your door and save your ass— yeah, tough luck.

You can't believe you're about to pass out and all you can think about is men. You're literally failing the Bechdel test. What are you? Some poor girl in a teenage romcom? You're not even a teenager.

You close your eyes for some shut-eye, disrupted when you're shaken awake, blinking slowly as you catch sight of Ashley first, holding her chest in relief when you stare at her.

Then, you notice him—

Beautiful blonde hair, brilliant blue eyes, arms hard as a rock, you might've just died and landed in heaven. Are you in heaven? Surely you must be. This man looks so gorgeous it's incredible. You have to be in heaven right now. You blink at him with doe-eyes, confusion visible on your face. Ashley's here, so you're not in heaven. Did you just happen to have a super hot EMT show up to your door like you had been imagining? Oh, god, are you... psychic? This is a revelation! This is insane! You have to—

No, seriously. You're not in a romcom. Can the narrator stop describing it like it's some sort of a romcom? The 2000s called, they want their cheesy romcom plotline back.

"Fucking hell." You groan, shifting against the wall. "How long was I out?"

"Ten minutes." The man reads. "You're just low in blood sugar. We have some orange juice, would you like that?"

"Yeah. Sure." You furrow your brows. "God, wow, count on my body to shut down without sugar."

"It happens." He thanks his coworker for the glass, holding it to your lips. "Tilt, please."

You tilt your head back slightly to press your lips to the glass, drinking it as you lean back to lick your lips, offering to take the glass from him as your arms start cooperating. "I can do it."

"Best not to." He nods. "Just finish the glass. We'll stay until your blood sugar rises."

"Isn't it almost immediate?"

"Takes around 15 minutes."

You raise a brow at Ashley, who shakes her head, and you finish the rest of the glass, watching as Leon checks your stats.

"How often does this happen..." You glance at his nameplate. "Leon?"

"More often than you'd think." He hums, tilting his head at you as Ashley talks to the other worker about your insurance. "Let me guess, you forgot to eat?"

"Yeah. My body stops feeling hunger after a certain point." You hum. "It's not super good, huh?"

"Yeah. Try to have some candy or juice throughout the day. It helps." He nods. "College student life, huh?"

You tilt your head. "How old are you?"

"Been a few years since school." He nods. "Your blood sugar's back to normal, sugar."

You hold your hand over your mouth, raising a brow at him. "That definitely breaks some sort of work protocol."

He smiles, sneaking you a candy from his pocket with a wink.

Huh. Hard caramel.

"Are you alright?" Ashley rests a hand on your shoulder, and you give her a thumbs up.

"All good." You lean against the wall to get up. "I should eat, though."

Leon grabs your arm, helping you up. "Definitely. Have something high in sugar or carbs."

"Will do, Leon." You nod. "Wishing you an uneventful work day. May no emergency be absolutely awful."

"Thank you. Those days are the best."

You send them off as Ashley starts nagging about not eating, and you pout as you lock eyes with her, door locked, ambulance gone.

"Yeah, he was hot."

"YEAH, HE WAS."

You forget about him, though. You start popping candy throughout the day, same brand as the one Leon had given you, your lips curled upwards sweetly when it hits your tongue. It's not food, but at least you won't be passing out because your blood sugar's low again.

You're also never going to see him again, so it's fine if you carry a piece of him around with you.

Except you do. You see him at the EMT booth at a local concert, Ashley in your arms because there's something wrong with her this time. (You really ought to start taking care of yourselves, huh?)

"Ah, sugar." Leon smiles. "Friend this time?"

"Yes." You set her down as he checks up on her. "Is she okay?"

"Seems fine. Just needs some water. Dehydration. How long you been out there?"

"Since morning." You glance at the venue. "Didn't eat either, though I've been having candy."

"That's not good for you, sugar." He hands Ashley a bottle of water, sending her off with you. "Go grab some food."

You watch as he fishes out a twenty from his pocket, blinking as he holds it out to you.

"I can't take that from you, sir."

"Nonsense. Concert food is expensive. It's on me." He smiles.

"You're still breaking workplace rules, I see." You rummage through your pockets, taking Leon's hand as you place a caramel in his hand. "As a thank you."

"I'm sure it'll be delicious later." He smiles. "Now, off you go. We've got quite a line."

"Wouldn't dream of holding you up, Leon." You lead Ashley to the side by the crowds, waiting for her to grab a drink before pulling her to grab something to eat. You pay for her food first, setting Ashley with the rest of your friends before waving to get something of your own.

"Get his number!" She manages to yell as you disappear into the crowd.

Now that's breaking protocol.

Yet, you use the remainder of Leon's money to get him something to eat, waiting for the line to dissipate slightly before handing him a drink.

"For me?"

"It's got... liquid IV in it." You scrunch your nose. "Hopefully that's not a scam."

"Not completely." He takes it from you, pinching at the straw to mix it. "Did you eat?"

"I was about to."

He glances at his coworker and then the intermission.

"That'd be bad, Kennedy." The woman next to him warns.

Leon sighs. "Have fun eating."

"Thank you again." You grin.

"Ah, and for dessert." He reaches for your hand, placing another candy in it. "A hard caramel."

"I'm starting to think you have a thing for caramels, Leon." You raise a brow, taking two steps back before throwing a wave his way. "I'll pay you back later!"

You grab dinner with the rest of your friends, waving bye to them when they leave to continue, Ashley making sure that you've got candy on you before she's gone. You have one final singer that you'd like to see before you leave the event. You're glad you live close to the venue. You could probably walk back or uber if you were really desperate. Though, you wonder just how long the EMT are staying.

You find yourself mixed into the crowd as you wait, jumping when your favorite artist finally appears, cheering with everyone else. You don't blame the rest of them for retiring early. You're the only one who listens to this artist anyway. The setlist has you jumping, cheering at the live vocals, yelling your heart out with the lyrics, and when the set finishes, the sun's almost down. It'd be smart of you to head out at this point.

You make a turn to head back, popping the caramel in your mouth, stopping in your tracks when a man blocks your way.

"Where ya off to, sweetheart?"

"...Oh, you know." You smile, nodding to excuse yourself.

"Need a ride home?"

"Truly, it's alright—"

"I insist."

You wrack your brain for a solution, yelping when you feel hands on your waist instead, pulling you backwards. Your back is flush against someone's chest, smile on his lips as you blink. Sure hope it's not some other creep.

"Hey, you good bro? Had one too many to drink? I suggest the EMT tent."

You let out a sigh in relief, watching as the guy notices the uniform and scrambles.

"Thank you." You turn around, smile on your lips as Leon nods.

"You're just too lovely, sugar. Gotta keep those flies off of ya." He nods. "You feeling alright?"

You nod.

"Gone all quiet on me?" He tilts his head. "Alright, up you go."

You yelp as he lifts you into his arms effortlessly, arms wrapping around his neck as he carries you out of the crowd. He presses his forehead to yours to check your temperature, looking to the side when you don't react at all.

"You good?"

"I'm fine, Leon. You didn't need to." You let him take your vitals, the tent practically empty now that the concert was finishing up. His coworker nods at him and heads out, and leaves you with Leon. That's gotta be illegal in some way. There is no way a law is not being broken right there. Aren't they both supposed to get off at the same time? Is that?? legal? Is their shift over?

"You seem fine." He kneels at your chair, fingers on your wrist as he takes your heartbeat. "Heart's a little fast, though."

"Yeah?" You mumble. You're sure you look embarrassed beyond belief right now, so you opt for sucking on the caramel in your mouth.

You're not surprised he takes notice. "Actually, I think my head's spinning just a little. Must be the lack of sugar. You got any on you?"

"Well, I kind of ate my last one..." You mumble, sticking your tongue out with the candy.

"I don't mind."

"Yeah?" You suck on the candy.

"Of course not, sugar." He leans in, tilting his head. "Yeah?"

"Yeah, who am I to say no?"

You let him kiss you, tongue with the caramel offered to him, sugar on your lips and his from it, though you would argue that the only reason the candy seemed to taste so good was because of him. You tilt your head to angle better, Leon's hands finding yours on the chair, pushing himself to you with a hum in his throat, tongue in your mouth as he steals the caramel from you. You don't mind. You might've just tasted a slice of heaven of your own.

You pant, tongue stuck out and mouth open as Leon shows you the candy on his tongue, smiling.

"You got a ride home, sugar?"

"You gonna kidnap me?" You raise a brow, licking your lips for whatever remnant of him is left on you.

"Not with this pretty lady, no." He smiles.

"Breaking work protocol again, I see."

"I'm off duty." He glances to the side as the new shift arrives, and Leon offers a hand to help you up. "Don't worry, sugar, you can pass out on my car. I've got all the candy you could want."

"Hm..." You tap your chin, taking his hand as he pulls you with him, not letting go.

"Hm what?"

"How about we grab brunch sometimes nearby? Just to make sure my sugar levels don't drop from forgetting to eat?" You tilt your head, watching as Leon tilts his head back to you.

"Oh, sugar. You don't even need to ask."

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy x reader #reader insert #resident evil #☾.fics #PLEASE IGORE THE FACT I SPELLED HIPAA WRONG OH MY GOD IM KILLING MYSELF #thisis how u tell im not in health btw

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rafey-baby · 14 hours

Text

hidden 3

cw: outlaw!rafe being his usual self, hostage situation, mentions of murder, pogue!reader having some sexual awakenings & some backstory on rafe

wc: 2.3k

hope u enjoy xx

part 1 part 2

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The following morning, her eyes groggily open in her own bed; covers tucked over her shoulders and head comfortably propped up by her pillow. She finds herself perplexed, doesn’t know how she ended up here since her last coherent memory from last night is sitting on the passenger seat of Rafe’s truck and letting her heavy lids close for what was originally supposed to be a few minutes.

Her sock-clad feet pad over to the living room where Rafe is rummaging through some of his papers and whatnot; appearing as busy as ever.

”Why don’t I remember coming home last night?” She stops to stand next to him.

”Cause you sleep like a fucking rock. Had to carry you to your room,” he sounds disinterested, not even bothering to lift his head from the piece of paper he’s pinching between his fingers. Upon closer inspection, it appears to be some sort of a contract; letters unfortunately too tiny for her to be able to read from where she’s standing.

“Oh. Thanks?”

Instead of leaving her passed out in his car like she would’ve assumed, he tucked her into bed? Maybe he owns a heart, after all.

“It’s whatever,” he dismisses her while reading something over; seemingly deep in thought.

“Do you— do you need help with that?”

“Nah, I’m good,” his hand lifts up to scratch at the back of his head before he scribbles something down.

”Right…” she trails off, apparently rooted in her spot and unable to move.

”Did you want something or what?” His tone is suddenly exasperated, eyes finally flickering up to peer into hers along with his brows raising expectantly.

”No, I just…are we going somewhere today?” She can’t help but feel a little out of place in her own home with him there; almost as if she’s waiting for his next command to know what to do next. It makes something peculiar swim in the pits of her stomach.

”Nah, just have to go over these. Can you, I don’t know, go to your room or something? You’re bothering me with your staring,” he grumbles and shifts into a more comfortable position on the couch; not sparing her another ounce of attention.

”Okay,” she mumbles, a frown taking over her visage.

Honestly, she’s not entirely sure what she’s supposed to do now. Normally, she’d go to work at the surf shop near the beach but since Rafe so kindly took her phone and texted everyone in her contacts about a family emergency that would take some days to sort through, she can’t exactly do that. And besides work…well, she doesn’t really have much else going on in her life. It’s sad, really, how a literal criminal forcing his way into her house is the most exciting thing to happen to her in the past few years.

All things considered though, she doesn’t mind living a quiet life in the Cut, just sometimes wishes she didn’t feel so…lonely. And don’t get her wrong, she has friends, she just sometimes yearns for something deeper than fun boat adventures or getting high with her feet dangling over the dock while a tangerine-colored sunset paints over the horizon.

She’s always had this dream of traveling around the world or simply just somewhere that wasn’t the Outer Banks but her parents never had the money for it. Therefore, she settled and learned to earn a living by herself in order to keep a roof over her head.

And she’s been content with her simple life, even considers herself to be happy but then she sat on Rafe’s lap and at the realization of him getting hard from her unconscious rubbing against him felt butterflies in her belly, maybe for the first time in her life. It was something she thought only happened in movies yet there they were; their fluttering wings poking at her core like some vicious reminder that she hadn’t let someone make her feel good in ages.

Truth be told, she grew tired of guys not being able to make her come because they didn’t understand her needs; didn’t even bother to find them out which is why she sort of lost hope for the whole thing altogether. But then Rafe steps inside her home uninvited and is nothing but mean to her and suddenly she...

It's wrong.

It doesn't make any sense yet she still can't help but feel a certain pull towards him whenever he's close. And she doesn't like it one bit; wants to forget about it as quickly as the thought breaches her mind.

It's far too complex for her perplexed mind to grasp onto, which is why she confuses it for insanity; simply decides that she’s going crazy. And maybe she is, because why else would she suddenly care for Rafe? Why is a hidden part of her heart beginning to harbor gooey, fond feelings for a killer who’s technically holding her hostage?

She’s sure her muddled brain is going to explode if she thinks about the matter any longer; instead opting to take a long, scalding shower due to the clothes she’s been wearing since yesterday starting to stick to her sweaty skin and making her feel even filthier than she already does.

Unfortunately, the steaming water doesn't quite wash away the ache between her thighs.

She’s in the middle of pulling a shirt over the damp strands of her hair when harsh knuckles rap against her bedroom door and Rafe enters a second later; not even bothering to wait for a response.

”Change of plans—” his words die down on his tongue when he notices her current state.

”Rafe, what the fuck?” She quickly adjusts the hem over her waist, painfully aware of the fact that she’s not wearing any pants and his eyes are now fixed on the lace of her panties practically on show for him.

”Why are you just barging into my room like that? I could’ve been naked!” She complains before snatching a pair of shorts off her floor; tugging them over her hips.

”Shit, wouldn’t have minded if you were. Got a nice ass for a Pogue,” he shrugs while sporting an irritating smirk that makes her glare at him.

”And you’ve got no manners for a Kook. Except, I’m not surprised,” she rolls her eyes when he feigns shock; exaggeratedly dropping his jaw.

”Puppy’s getting angry, huh? Where’s this attitude coming from? Thought you were still scared of me?” He belittles her with a condescending tinge in his laugh.

And she’s about to respond when out of the blue the ring of her doorbell reverberates around the house.

They both tense.

“You’re expecting someone?” His tone turns bleak, frigid; inducing shivers to litter across her arms as her head turns towards the source of the sound.

”N— no. I’m not,” she stutters because truthfully, she doesn’t have a clue as to who could be at her door in the middle of an ordinary Tuesday.

”Did you fucking call someone?” He takes a threatening step towards her and she panics.

”No! I promise, I didn’t. I don’t even— you literally have my phone, remember?” She tries to fruitlessly defend herself.

”I swear, if you’re lying right now—”

”I’m not, okay? I didn’t call anyone!” She reassures once more, although it seems like he’s not even listening anymore. Therefore, she tries to be logical. ”I should— I should go and see who it is, right?”

The icebound water in his eyes bores into her as he weighs out his options.

”Right, right. Yeah, you should do that," he finally settles on. "But if you even consider telling them anything, I swear I’m gonna fucking find you, you understand?” He grits out into her face and she flinches when she can feel his harsh breaths hit her mouth with each syllable.

She quickly nods before teetering towards the entrance of her home and twisting the lock with precarious fingers.

Soon, she’s standing in front of two men wearing police uniforms.

”Oh, sorry for the wait. Was um…in the bathroom. How can I— uh, help you?” She tries to appear unfazed; inhaling slowly and doing everything she can in order to not look as guilty as she feels.

”We apologize for the inconvenience but we’ve been assigned to ask around the island in order to locate a criminal who’s potentially a threat to our entire community,” one of them says and she thinks his jaded eyes are peering into her soul and seeing right through her rickety facade.

”Have you seen this man recently?” The other guy dangles a picture of Rafe in the air. She takes a moment to properly look at the photo as to not answer too quickly.

“N— no, sorry. Can’t say I have. Why? Who is that?” She bats her lashes in confusion as her poor heart thuds in her ribcage. She wonders if they can hear it.

”This is Rafe Cameron. You might’ve heard about Cameron development? He became the owner after his father’s death a few years back. And now we have reason to believe that he’s the main suspect for the murder of a fellow officer,” he states with a serious expression.

”Oh, that’s…that’s terrible,” her eyes widen in shock because she had no idea Rafe was a Cameron. Of course, she’d heard everyone talking about what had happened with Ward Cameron and the rumors surrounding the gold but she’d never cared enough to dig through for more information about the rest of his family.

”Seems like the apple really doesn’t fall far from the tree considering what Ward did to Sheriff Peterkin,” the one with the piercing stare snickers and her brows furrow because she doesn’t think the topic is all that hilarious.

”I remember watching that in the news when it was all happening. Didn’t you guys also arrest an innocent Pogue with no actual proof?” Her question is sharp because the whole case still itches her in the wrong way.

”That was— listen, I wasn’t even here back then, it was all very tragic. But the investigation on this case is still ongoing and we have a reliable witness claiming they saw Rafe dragging something heavy near the ocean the night before we found the body washed up on the shore. And according to multiple sources Rafe was the last person seen with our coworker at the island club a few hours prior to his death,” the guy explains and she momentarily wonders if they’re even allowed to share this much classified information with her.

”Right. Well, I really wish I could help you but I unfortunately haven’t seen him,” her teeth sink into the inside of her cheek and she wonders if they can tell that she’s lying.

“At this point, it seems like no one has. We’re suspecting that he might’ve fled the country. Anyway, we’ve got orders to search every house but honestly, we don’t think he’d be on this side of the island. So, we’re not gonna waste our time on that. Call this number if you notice anything out of the ordinary, though?”

”Yes, of course. I really wish there was more I could do to help. Hope you guys find him soon,” she offers them a tight smile.

”We’ll do our best,” they assure her before the door finally closes.

Her back slides down against the wood as her labored breathing begins to slow down. She closes her eyes in a moment of relief until she feels Rafe’s presence interfering with her peace.

”Who knew you were such a good liar? Shouldn’t believe everything you say too easily then, should I?” His gaze travels down her form and he genuinely seems impressed.

”You killed a cop?” She decides to ignore his teasing.

”Relax. He was a sleazy bastard who was helping me with some side business and became too greedy. What can I say? Don’t like being used. But believe me, he was not a good person,” he answers her question, maybe for the first time ever.

”Right, right,” she tries her very best to understand where he’s coming from but she doesn’t think she’s ever going to be able to justify ending someone’s life with such indifference. In her opinion, he doesn’t have the right to decide whether someone gets to live or not; no matter how good or bad of a person they are.

”Listen, I didn’t mean to do it, it just…happened, okay?” He tries to explain himself and he almost sounds vulnerable. She nearly feels bad for him.

”You know, I could go to jail for helping you!” She snaps when frustration bubbles to the surface instead.

”Calm down, Pup. You’re not going to jail, alright? And watch that fucking tone, yeah?” His hands rest on his head as he begins to pace around the hallway.

”I just— cops don’t care about Pogues. If they find out I lied to them they’re gonna put me behind bars cause unlike you, I don’t have the money to bail myself out,” she tries to pointlessly reason with him.

”Already told you, nothing’s gonna happen to you, okay? Now can you shut the fuck up so I can think?” He demands, halting his movements.

”Did they, uh, tell you anything?” He speaks up again and she tells him everything she remembers from the brief conversation while he mulls over his situation.

”Right, right. So, they don’t actually have any real proof about me killing the guy? Just speculation,” he confirms.

”I guess, yeah? But I don’t know if they even know all the details about the case,” she offers in response and can practically hear the wheels turning in his head.

”They didn’t happen to mention who the witness was?”

”N— no, why?” Her voice wavers as she swallows around the question.

He lifts his head to inspect her reaction when he seems to have finally conjured up some sort of a plan to clear his name.

”Think I’m gonna have to pay him a little visit. And you’re gonna help, aren’t ya?”

She would very much like to find out whatever sin she committed in a past life that weighed so heavily that it made her end up in a position as wretched as this one.

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grapefives · 3 days

Text

REVÓLVER SEXUAL | HC

supernova trio x gn!reader (separately)

very light angst + implied nsfw + hispanic/latin reader + past fat shaming + insecurities + fluff + mentioned past unhealthy mechanisms

a/n: totally not self indulging. this has been in my drafts for a year LMAO please like 🧍🏻‍♀️

૮ ּ ۟ monkey d. luffy ׅ ۫ ✧

when you first joined the crew, luffy KNEW you had some sort of trouble with food

you were so hesitant of EVERYTHING that he found himself insisting and making sure you ate well, along with sanji

“y/n, eat more.” you felt like he was your MOM.

you could hear the “estas muy flac@” from your family members or the “ni que estuvieras a dieta” from your mother

but it was so HARD to say no to luffy, captain or not.

you still didn’t have a healthy relationship with food, and still felt a little guilty if you found yourself eating more than you FELT like you should’ve

sometimes you’d go all day without eating until luffy drags you for dinner, it’s not that you did it intentionally, you just don’t find it in you to eat

honestly, it worried luffy but he never really commented on it

all he would do is make sure you at least ate

but when you would play with your food more than eat or even just stare at the plate before you, he would frown and actually force feed you

“Y/N YOU HAVE TO BE STRONG AND HEALTHY SO WE CAN BEAT EVERYTHING THAT COMES OUT WAY!”

yet, one day he finds out you literally had an issue with eating, you had mentioned it to chopper and he just happened to overhear

then it clicked why you were always squirmy during intimacy

and WITHOUT FAIL, to your surprise, he started being reassuring to you

he’s always a sweetheart with you, your hype man regardless but this time you knew his intentions were for you to understand you shouldn’t worry about your physical appearance

his eyes were ten times more tender outside the bedroom

yet, when it came to intimacy he was like a hungry animal— kissing, biting and grabbing. it had taken you aback at how specific he was being, but you still melted into him

he made you forget the voices that would say “hide that” or “don’t let him notice” but he made sure you understood that he’ll love you regardless of what you think

and he’s an eater

he’ll eat you up. always.

૮ ּ ۟ trafalgar d. law ׅ ۫ ✧

he’s a DOCTOR. man’s knows when someone is off.

he mistook your lack of interest in food for a stomach bug, genuinely concerned and forcing you to take pills and medicine

lowkey made you feel bad and ashamed to the point you came clean

medical confidentiality right?

😭 the face he gave you!!

“it’s unhealthy to neglect vital nutrients to your body.”

very stern about your meal intake, takes it upon himself to make sure you eat what you can stomach at first and make sure you grow comfortable with both him and food

he’s sweet really, just shows it in private

he literally sits you down and asks you what you would like for your body, because if you have any concerns then you MUST attend them CORRECTLY

no more unhealthy mechanisms

and he falls even more in love when you seem more radiant, more confident.

he’d come up from behind always and just plant a warm, wet kiss on your ear before whispering a compliment on your appearance

he made you feel like no one else’s opinion mattered anymore.

literally it didn’t matter if people commented on your weight, the results you were having made you feel confident

he was definitely surprised when you’d initiate intimacy, when you’d devour him like a starving animal

“someone’s hungry,” he teased once, but when you had paused, he realized his wording must have affected you

he low key panics and stutters out an apology but you smirk at him

“for once i don’t feel guilty for eating-“ and you devour his heart and soul too

૮ ּ ۟ eustass kid ׅ ۫ ✧

i’m sorry but this doofus was really oblivious about it until killer pointed it out

he was so mad at himself. how dare he not see your issue with food?? he thought you gave him your leftovers out of love!!

dude he’s like, an insensitive giant thinking he’s being helpful

it made sense of why you were always trying to put off intimacy or why you’d try to make him see less of you

“i don’t give a damn about how you look. why would i care?” he asks.

in his head he was being sweet and saying “i love you just the way you are.”

but it made you feel like shit

you were already struggling with feeling right with yourself, and he comes and says he doesn’t care? maybe you’re being sensitive but even that made you feel worse

it felt like you’ll never be enough for anyone, even eustass.

you never felt like you mattered, but growing up your weight put labels on you. you grew up with insults being used as nicknames, yet you felt like eustass saw you as nothing

“why aren’t you eating?” he asks when he notices you still aren’t developing a good eating habit, some days you eat well and others you either overeat or don’t eat at all

“does it matter?” you huff.

“i give a damn when you could get sick!”

“you said you don’t give a damn about how i look, so shut up about what i do.” you growl.

“eh? when did i say that!? you need to eat!” he huffs.

“well no thank you.”

you ignore him and he has to corner you in your room to get you to pay him any mind

his interrogations fall deaf in your ears as he cages you under him on your bed

“if i don’t matter to you get out,” you blurt out.

“what are you talking about? when have i made you feel like you don’t matter to me.”

“you know i’m struggling and you just- you just said you don’t give a damn about how i look!”

“because i don’t! does it have to matter? i love you for you! pirates seek out people for their bodies and for their own pleasures! i’m with you because i love you for who you are!”

“and i am not saying you’re ugly or whatever it is you think i think!” he beats you to every argument.

and then he goes on to show you PHYSICALLY what he means. not like, harsh or anything. you’ve never felt so precious under his care before, he kissed you so tenderly.

he didn’t make you feel fragile, like something that could break in a bad way

he made you understand how he sees you as more as his partner- as an extension of his soul, his missing piece

“i’ll make sure you never feel like that again, as long as you’re with me, you’ll be more valuable than a poneglyph. whatever you struggle with, i’ll help you through it.”

your confidence went up, because honestly he’s brutally honest and many people take what the captain says seriously; yet you knew he’s never lie to you

at the end of the day, what your lover says is what matters to you.

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stormyelliotwritez · 1 day

Note

walk with me…

ftm reader who has been in love with logan for years but he thinks logan is straight and also logan like wont stop being in love with jean and is absolutely OBLIVIOUS that r likes him.. (literally all the other x men know) and honestly this can be like super angsty or just silly idc whatever the vibe u best think works

im gonna somehow go with mostly angst coz thats my fav so here goes

tw for gender dysphoria related to wanting to fit logan’s so called type

BUT HE’S STRAIGHT?

Logan was staring at Jean again. This was like the fifth time just this staff meeting. You weren’t sure how much longer you could take this. Maybe Charles would let you go lay down if you faked a fever but maybe he’d do the whole psychic thing and realize you were fine.

You sat through the rest of the meeting and then left quickly, feeling like a loser. It’s been years and he still hasn’t noticed you. He’s always staring at Jean who’s literally been in love with Scott since they met. Why won’t he stare at you? How the fuck is he straight? But alas, he is.

You walked to your room, tugging at your shirt and wishing it would fit better. Maybe he’d have noticed you if you weren’t a boy, if you’d stayed what you’d been born as. Maybe if you were still her, he’d think you were cute. Maybe he’d look at you how he looked at Jean.

You slammed your door shut and clambered onto your bed, curling up into a ball. You stayed there, just thinking, until eventually you fell asleep.

In the morning, you got up and after showering and getting dressed, you threw on the jacket you’d stolen from Logan a few months ago, the one with the school’s logo. Maybe he wouldn’t notice. It’s not like he ever noticed you.

You went about your day, bumping into Scott who made a faux growl sound like Logan’s to tease you and then bumping into Hank who sniffed your jacket and then applauded you on managing to steal from Logan. Later in the day, you ran head first into Storm, when you were trying to avoid Logan, and she glanced at him and then meowed at you teasingly. You’d swear on someone’s grave that the only person who didn’t know about your years old crush was the man himself, Logan.

You managed to avoid Logan all day until… dinner. He was sitting opposite the spot you always sat in. He was sitting there. Why was he sitting there was a question you couldn’t answer. You tugged at your jumper while holding your plate with one hand and you walked over to him.

“Logan,” you said with a nod.

“Bub,” he said back before looking you over.

He didn’t say anything about the jacket. He just sat there and ate his dinner and then stood up. He walked around to your side and leaned down to whisper in your ear. “Nice jacket, bub.”

He then walked off, just like that.

What the fuck? What the actual fuck? He didn’t know though. He would know about your ridiculous crush if he was listening to your heartbeat right now. Oh my god, so he knew you’d stolen it but he couldn’t put the damn pieces together?

You finished your dinner and walked off. You were halfway to your room when someone grabbed your hand and pulled you into an empty classroom. The door was slammed and you were disoriented in the dark.

“You like me, bub?”

That was Logan’s voice. Wait, he knew? How? But…

“Come on, I ain’t got all day,” he said abruptly.

You nodded. You were quite sure he could see in the dark and the scoff he made seemed to say so. How could you have been so stupid? He was probably going to hate you now. He was straight. He’d always been straight and in love with Jean. He was oblivious. He’d always been oblivious. He could never like you. You weren’t a girl, no matter how hard you wanted to still be one so he’d like you. Your heart was racing and soon enough, you were hyperventilating.

His hands were on your shoulders and you were being pulled into a hug, a hug that smelt of wood and fuel. He was hugging you?

“It’s okay, I got you, bub,” he placed a light kiss on your forehead, “I swing both ways, you know.”

You’d always hated that he was still taller than you, one of the downsides of not getting on T until your 20’s and- wait, what? He swings both ways?

“You-you do?” You said once your breathing had slowed.

He nodded. You couldn’t see it but you could feel it. He could like you… as you, as a man? You didn’t have to be someone else? You could just be you.

“Yep, now let’s go. I think there’s two beers calling our names in the teacher’s lounge,” he said before opening the door and pulling you out of the classroom. “Jean mentioned your little crush and now I gotta hear all about how you’ve been pining for me for years.”

Curse you, Jean, but thanks, was all you could think as you just nodded and walked with him to the teachers lounge.

#requested #its short but i think it works #x reader #stormy writes things #x m!reader #x male reader #logan howlett x male reader #logan howlett x ftm!reader #wolverine x ftm!reader #wolverine x male reader #🦕 anon

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tpwk-formula1 · 2 days

Note

i loveee your fics so sooo much!! could i order a gluten-free with red sauce, tomatoes, roasted peppers, garlic, a root beer and a pink lemonade for the drinks with dessert served by sir lewis hamilton pleaseee thank youu <3

Lee-Lee's Pizzeria Menu

gluten-free enemies to lovers red sauce rough sex tomatoes "do you enjoy pissing me off?" roasted peppers "such a good whore" garlic "I know you love it when I fill that pretty pussy up" root beer daddy kink pink lemonade degrading kink dessert yes served by Lewis Hamilton

Lewis x enemy reader

TW quicky in public, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, creampie, use of the word slut

WC 1100+

Y/N POV

"Lewis, can you go back to the garage or something. Literally anywhere but in this room," I say while looking at my computer trying to get my work done before the race was set to begin in a few hours.

"I quite enjoy being in here though," Lewis said with a shrug and sat down in front of me making me groan and roll my eyes.

"Why are you fighting it?" Lewis questions making my face grow hot but I don't say anything.

"Do you enjoy pissing me off?" Lewis snapped making me instantly look up from my computer to find Lewis's hard gaze on me.

"Well?" Lewis questions again when I didn't answer him.

"I haven't even done anything to piss you off," I tell him softly not being confident in my own voice. Lewis just scoffs and shakes his head before standing and rounding the table that was once between us but now I'm sitting on top of it with Lewis between my legs making me gasp at how quickly it all changed.

"Stop denying us," Lewis whispers against my lips before placing a quick kiss and pulling back slightly to stare into my eyes.

Lewis and I didn't get along. I was the girl who forced him to do all his media responsibilities and one of the few people in Mercedes who doesn't bow down for him.

"Lewis, you have a race," I tell him softly knowing we both would lose track of time and he would be late.

"I can be quick. Can you?" Lewis asks with a smirk across his face. I just stare at Lewis before trailing my eyes towards the door to find it already locked. I realized this was exactly what Lewis had planned coming into here.

"Just be quick. Don't get me fired," I tell him while pulling at the back of his neck to pull him in for a kiss. Lewis quickly closes the gap between us and pulling me in for a messy make out session. One that always left me needing more.

"Stop fucking fighting with me," Lewis said against my lips before taking my bottom lip between his teeth and giving it a rough pull making me gasp at the shock of pain that when straight to my pussy turning me on almost instantly.

"Stop being an egotistical asshole," I fight back which resulted in Lewis laying a firm slap onto my covered tit. It made me jump and whimper but always just helped add to the throbbing going on between my thighs.

"Don't be a brat," Lewis says while pulling my shirt off leaving me in just my bra before he pulls off his shirt and makes quick work of unbuttoning his pants and pulling them off. Once he's bare he works on taking the rest of my clothes off making me whimper softly when the cool air hits my soaked pussy.

"God, you're dripping," Lewis teases before bringing his mouth down and sucking on my clit making me groan out loudly.

"Shut the fuck up, I don't need someone hearing your slutty sounds," Lewis says roughly making me nod my head and bite my lip to try and contain my moans.

Lewis went back to sucking on my clit while slipping two thick fingers into my pussy making me moan at the intrusion.

"So good Daddy," I gasp softly trying to keep my volume down but failing pretty miserably.

"God, you're so responsive," Lewis mumbles against my clit sending new vibrations through my body.

"Can I cum Daddy," I ask needing to cum.

"Beg for it," Lewis mumbled back.

"Please, Daddy. I need to cum so bad. I promise I'll stop fighting, I just need to cum for you Daddy please," I beg softly while shaking slightly from the pleasure coursing through my body. I was actively fighting off my orgasm.

"Such a good whore, cum for me," Lewis groans instantly throwing me over the edge when he takes my clit back into his mouth. I let out a loud pornographic moan knowing if someone was outside the door they would instantly know what was going on inside the room.

"Good girl," Lewis mumbled standing up after helping me ride my orgasm out.

I feel Lewis's tip starting to tease my clit making me whine slightly at the overstimulation before he slips right in making me gasp at being filled completely.

"Fuck Daddy," I moan softly when he starts rocking his hips softly stretching me out enough to take him without any pain.

"So fucking tight," Lewis groans making me whine when he starts thrusting a bit harder.

"God, I've spent so much time in this pussy and it's still tight as the first time," Lewis groans while starting to play with my clit making me gasp at the stimulation.

"So big Daddy," I whine when I feel Lewis's actions speed up again bringing me close to another orgasm.

"God I can feel you clenching to cum again," Lewis groans when his hips start to stutter slightly letting me know he was just as close to cumming as I was.

"Cum for me," Lewis groans before sending one last hard thrust and cumming in me throwing me into another orgasm and instantly starting to shake all over Lewis's cock.

"Fuck daddy," I whine feeling my orgasm last longer than normal. Lewis starts rocking his hips softly riding out our orgasms before slowly slipping out and placing a kiss of my forehead.

"You came in me, Lewis!" I announce loudly when the post orgasm haze wears off.

"I know you love it when I fill that pretty pussy up" Lewis said with a smirk as if it made the situation better.

"Lewis," I say seriously making him laugh softly. He pulls me into his arms and sits down in the chair near us letting me relax into his arms.

"I wasn't even thinking. I'm sorry," Lewis says softly after a few moments of silence.

"I mean it's kinda okay cause you're right I love the feeling of your cum filling me up," I saw with a soft smirk on my face. Lewis just smirks before placing a kiss on my lips.

"I knew you were my little cum slut," Lewis says seriously. My cheeks heat slightly at the nickname making me burry my face in Lewis's neck making him laugh softly.

"You need to go soon," I said softly when I looked at the clock near us and say that Lewis was expected to be in his fireproofs and near the car in 30 minutes.

"I can give you 5 more minutes of my time," Lewis says softly while still stroking my back.

"Did I push you too far?" Lewis questions softly making me shake my head no.

"It was perfect. Still can't stand you though," I saw with a small smirk on my face knowing we both knew that was a damn lie.

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ahllohehn · 2 days

Text

Uh, here's the infodump of another hermitshipping AU I have no confidence I will finish. As another answer to Castor's ask

For all his life, Mumbo believed that he was difficult to love. Though, yes, he was quite tall, gentlemanly, and had a lovely mustache– features that would attract plenty of people, but that’s not enough to show the world how much of a mess he actually is.

He preferred work over playing, spectating over participating, making art instead of finding love… Yeah, Mumbo had long concluded that he wasn’t cut out for a married life at all.

So when someone as lovely as Grian came around saying; “I like you.” Mumbo found it hard to believe.

At the time, Mumbo had thought that Grian approached him either out of pity or because some friend had dared him to. At least, the blonde man had looked like he was forced there, judging by the way he kept fidgeting on the spot and was so red in the face he couldn’t meet Mumbo’s eyes. So Mumbo, without even questioning anything else, had just agreed to go out with him in hopes that he would help out the man from whatever predicament he got himself in.

At the time, he thought the relief and surprise on Grian’s face had been a silent expression of gratefulness for Mumbo’s mercy- for just agreeing to date him to get things over with. The raven haired man thought that he was being a hero to the gentleman in distress.

Mumbo went through about 15 dates with the man, suppressing urges to actually fall in love, fully expecting Grian to eventually break up and fess up that he won the bet with his friends and that they could both finally go back to their individual boring lives.

Mumbo waited.

Waited even after he took Grian into his apartment after his family had kicked him out.

Waited even after the 5 cups of coffee he brewed for Grian when was having a particularly busy night for an architectural project.

Waited even after they were both able to get up on the stage and get their diplomas together.

Waited even after they celebrated getting their first jobs together.

Even after deciding to get a house together…

Even after deciding to sleep on the same bed…

Even after they exchanged vows…

And it was during dinner when Mumbo was zoning out did he realize;

“Wait, this wasn’t how it was supposed to go,” he mumbled out in surprise, causing Grian beside him to raise an eyebrow at him in confusion.

“What wasn’t how it was supposed to go?”

Mumbo opened and closed his mouth, staring at his husband in disbelief. In disbelief that he isn’t in college anymore, that they weren’t just “dating” anymore.

They’re literally both sitting here, eating warm dinner together, under the same house they both own, way past the newlywed stage, and not at all broken up like how Mumbo had expected since the start.

“When are you divorcing me?” he blurted out mid-thought.

A loud ‘CLANK’ rang out at the dinner table as Grian dropped his fork, causing Mumbo to flinch violently in reaction, before then proceeding to outright shiver in fear as Grian’s expression turned from confusion to something akin to incredulity.

It was then that Mumbo realized what he had just said.

“What did you just say?” Grian stared at him with widened eyes. Mumbo swallowed nervously and was failing to meet the other’s eyes. He needed to explain himself quick.

“I-it’s just, you know! Are you not unhappy with having to stick with me for this long? I would’ve thought–” Mumbo was cut off by a slam to the table. He would’ve gone on a tangent about how Grian must’ve made a mistake to stick with him for this long 7 years into their marriage, but he was at least smart enough to know not to continue that monologue.

Not especially when Grian, who was rarely actually mad, was actually mad.

“Why on earth would you think that? What makes you think I think that?” Grian’s face was scrunched up in an offended manner, he kept an intense gaze on the taller’s figure, urging for an answer.

Mumbo’s shoulders were hiked up to his ears, “Didn’t you marry me out of pity?” His voice came out squeaky, almost as if even his lungs were scared to work under Grian’s scrutinizing gaze.

“Would I marry someone out of pity?!”

“M-Maybe?! Didn’t you just date me because you were forced to?”

Grian’s jaw dropped and he looked at Mumbo as if he grew a second head. He hunched over the table and buried his face into his hands, letting out an extremely tired sigh that made Mumbo hesitate on whether he should take back everything he said and go reach out to comfort the man.

Not that he was given a chance to, Grian didn’t even meet his eyes as he stood up snappily, the chair screeching against their floor, “Good heavens, I need a moment,” and so he left, stomping off to their shared bedroom and leaving a cold half-eaten plate of dinner on the table.

Mumbo stared at his own plate with dread.

It was when the loneliness he prepared himself to get used to long ago settled over the dining table did he realize his situation; he’s not as prepared as he thought he was for a lonely life and he pissed off Grian. Even worse, he probably hurt him.

Mumbo could’ve sworn his own wedding vows had said he promised he wouldn’t do that.

“Pants.”

<hr>

Mumbo was having a bad day, although that’s mainly his fault and his fault only.

He went to the studio earlier than usual. 2 hours earlier than usual, but that’s to be the case when you can’t really get any more proper sleep on a couch that’s smaller than your own person.

After spending a gruesome dinner alone (or rather sitting at the dinner table silently questioning your life before deciding to put the leftovers away and cleaning up), Grian had expectedly locked him out of their bedroom. Mumbo had to remind himself over and over again through an uncomfortable cold, blanket-less night that this was the consequence of his own actions so he has no right to complain.

He found himself grateful for Grian who decided to unlock the bedroom door some time in the middle of the morning to let Mumbo have access to his clothes at least. Although it was uncomfortable to tip-toe around the bedroom to avoid awakening the sleeping monster on the bed while preparing for work.

The scariest part was actually finishing preparations and leaving the room, thinking you had completed the stealth mission successfully, only to find out you didn’t. He hadn’t known Grian was awake the entire time until he heard a soft call from the bed.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” the monster of the bed had said. Mumbo swallowed and lingered by the bedroom door, looking around nervously as if to truly put thought into his answer, “Um, g-g-good morning?”

“....” Grian pushed him out of the room and slammed the door on him.

“I messed up even more,” Mumbo groaned in remembrance of the scene this morning and melted into his office chair, barely paying any attention to the emails on his monitor screen. He thought diving into work would distract him from reminding him of how he ruined his marriage, but the dullness of work just had him thinking even more than he did back at home.

Grian wasn’t around, so Mumbo’s brain finally had the space to worry more about the situation rather than worry about sneaking around his own house. It left him tired, adding to the fact that he barely has any sleep.

He was too tired to react even to the sound of someone knocking on his door frame before rudely stepping into his office anyway.

“Well, don’t you look horrible,” newly entered Iskall pointed out with a worried but amused grin, putting down a cup of coffee on Mumbo’s desk, right next to the other empty paper cups of coffee. 4 empty cups to signal just how much he’s been chugging since this morning.

Mumbo did look horrible, “I’m very aware,” His eyebags that had always been there looked a lot more prominent now. His usually styled hair was unruly, strands sticking out in all directions. He looked as if he was there working since 2 days ago, but really, he’s only been clocked in for almost 3 hours, “Just started the day wrong.”

“What? Woke up on the wrong side of bed or something?”

Mumbo winced and brushed his hair back, tugging at it in stress, “I didn’t even wake up on a bed.”

Iskall didn’t respond immediately, staring at Mumbo like he was trying to understand what he was getting at. When his brain did finally come to a conclusion with the small hints Mumbo presented, he put on a dramatic look of shock, “Have you finally reached that stage of marriage in which the wife punishes her unruly husband by making him sleep on the couch?”

The raven haired sent a deadpan stare over to Iskall’s direction, making the man backtrack and change his tone, “Serious situation? Alright, I’ll bite. What’s up with your oh-so-seemingly-perfect marriage?”

“I think I made Grian mad,” Mumbo wasn’t one to talk too much about his relationships, as it had no connection to his work whatsoever and he didn’t really want to attach himself to the relationship too much considering that he genuinely did think there was soon to be an ending to it.

But now, seeing that his husband was actually throwing an angry tantrum for a rare time of his life, his brain is suddenly throwing all other thoughts out the window. It was as if he’s just forgotten that he was expecting Grian to have an incentive to leave him, now just focused on making Grian feel better because some part of his brain went through an ick seeing the man so devastated.

“I-I was just… I questioned when he was filing for divorce because I thought he would’ve left me all those years ago already. I thought he was staying because he felt guilty enough to commit to the bit… or some sort.”

The way Iskall’s face scrunched up incredulity reminded Mumbo of how Grian did the same, “You went through college together, made your friends suffer your disgusting pining all throughout, graduated together, shared a kiss at the marriage altar, and you still actually think Grian has just been staying with you because he felt bad for you,” Mumbo nodded along.

“The entire decade he spent with you because you thought HE PITIED YOU?”

Mumbo hesitated before nodding again, but more sheepishly. Iskall looked as if he didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, which made the raven haired even more embarrassed for some reason. Mapping it all out, he knows it’s all stupid, but he hardwired his brain to long expect the worst for himself already. Mumbo genuinely felt that there was no way someone as good as Grian was allowed in his life.

There should’ve been a better possible world where Grian is happier, only to be stopped by none other than himself.

“Geez, if I were your husband, I’d throw a fit over you bringing up divorce too. Even more when you seem like you’re encouraging me to do it after dedicating my entire life to you.”

“But you’re not my husband,” Mumbo said defensively.

Iskall raised his hands up in surrender, “Chill, dude. I’m no homewrecker. Grian would cut off a limb if I even begin to think you’re my type.”

Mumbo huffs, “You’re so unhelpful.”

“I just asked what’s up, not that I offered to give you actual advice.”

Fair enough. He did say that.

Seeing as the conversation was going nowhere, Mumbo rested his head on the table frustratingly, his brain continuing to work overtime on trying to find solutions or explanations to this situation. Iskall pitifully patted him on the back as he silently tried to get his life together again.

“Do you really think he cares enough?” Mumbo finally spoke, causing his co-worker to snap out of his own daze and looking at him questioningly. The mustached man rose up from his awkward position and reiterated his statement, “Does he actually care enough to cut off your limbs?”

Iskall took his arm back to his side and slowly backed out of the office, squinting his eyes at Mumbo suspiciously, “I don’t think you’re aware as to how much Grian truly cares…”

Mumbo raised an eyebrow, his eyes following Iskall backing away, “Wh- Where are you going? It’s not like he’d actually go and cut off your limbs. It was a hypothetical question!”

“You really aren’t aware,” and Mumbo wasn’t even given anymore time to react before Iskall ran out of his office like his life actually depended on it.

<hr>

#This was one of the AUs that was meant to get a 'book cover'#It didn't continue because of college #It's not angsty #It was meant to be a comedic romance lol #hermitshipping #grumbo #mumbo jumbo #grian #hermitshipping au #ahllhohehn cant stfu

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littlemissmentallyunstable · 3 days

Text

hi!! I’m very aware that this was requested on the 13th of August, and literally over a month later I’ve finally managed to write it up. I feel unbelievably guilty for not getting it done sooner and I’m sorry it even took this long. I really really hope you enjoy it and I’m ever grateful for the patience 🤍🤍

title: there’s always another mystery

pairing: jameson hawthorne x reader

synopsis: avery kylie grambs is spending a little too much time with your boyfriend than you’d like… but when jameson starts lying about it questions are raised and tension rises until it all bubbles over

warnings: mild swearing, violence, assault

a/n: the synopsis sounds really cringy so forgive me, this fic is kind of long and very dialogue heavy and ermmm… I hope you enjoy the ending ;)

tag list: @bewitchingkisses @whatsamongus @wish-i-were-heather @inmyheaddd @never-enough-novels @sweetlikeanangel @midiosaamor @sweetreveriee @emelia07 @f4iry-bell @zaraaaabear @thoughtdaughter3 @benny1989fredd @elysianwayy77 @maybxlle @sheisntyou @anintellectualintellectual @aleatorio1234 @adalia-jaycee @off-to-the-r4ces @lyra-kane @reminiscentreader @lyrakanefanatic @imaseabear @elizaa31

You sit on the bed waiting for Jameson to arrive. You wonder how long he’ll take this time. You’d just seen him and Avery ascending the set of stairs that lead to his dead uncle’s wing. Him and Avery. The pretty new comer with those big hazel eyes and long soft hair, pocketing a billionaire’s fortune overnight. She had it all: the looks, the brains, the humour. She was perfection and that bugged you greatly. She was a mystery.

Literally. When Tobias had finally decided to fall asleep forever, she was the result, the heiress, the consequence. She was big masterful puzzle had popped out of nowhere, from nothing. Not that you hadn’t had you fair share of experience with that. You’d earned yourself a scholarship to one of the most prestigious private schools in Texas and raised from the ashes into a burning flame. Then you’d met Jameson Hawthorne.

He had always been an interesting character, you had just never expected his interest in you. You were the scholarship kid nobody knew or cared enough to know and somehow he was intrigued. He had found you studying the the library one day and the two of you just clicked, it was like you’d known each other for years. He’d walked you home that night and had done so ever since. From that day on you were the closest of friends. It wasn’t long before you met his brothers, mostly absent mother and extremely judgemental grandfather. Hawthorne house became a second home. The two of you sat for hours, mostly on the rooftop, staring up at an endless sky of stars and talking about anything and everything. You actually don’t think there’s a topic you haven’t covered. Everything seemed to be going swimmingly… then he started dating Emily.

From the beginning, you didn’t like her at all, but you bit your tongue from pouring out your true feelings to Jameson when he’d asked for an opinion on her. You didn’t want to make his relationship feel awkward. She was everything you didn’t want him to be with. And she wasn’t you. It shattered you, but you saw how his face lit up when he mentioned her name and you vowed you wouldn’t ruin that for him. To see him that happy was worth it.

You should’ve trusted your gut. Everyday since she broke his heart, you beat yourself up for not saying anything. There were so many chances and you took none of them. She used him, abused him and left him to rot, you supposed she didn’t account for that fact that you’d be there to save him. And then she died. It was one destructive milestone after another. Explosion after explosion. But you helped Jameson through the hardest time of his life, you fixed him when he was too broken to mend.

It wasn’t until then that you realised you loved him. I mean you’d always known you’d loved him, but never in a romantic way, it had always felt so plutonic. But judging by the pure fury that built up inside of you when Emily was mentioned, the passionate way you protected and defended him in situations and the fact that you wanted nothing more than to kiss him until he couldn’t speak, you were pretty sure you were in love. But you never acted on the feeling, too afraid you’d ruin the closeness you had. It wasn’t until one night when you’d been stargazing together that he took your face in his gentle palms and kissed your tender lips. The whole act took you by surprise suddenly, but it didn’t stop you from kissing back. It felt so natural, so normal, like it was supposed to be this way. He was sweeter than you’d imagined but in the best way possible.

“I’ve always loved you,” he’d whispered as you’d pulled away, “always.”

“I’ve always loved you too,” you’d smiled shyly, cheeks flushed with colour, “and to be honest I don’t think I’ll ever stop.”

You can’t remember when it was established that he was your boyfriend but from that kiss onwards, that’s what he was to you. He was still your best friend but in a different way. There was more chemistry and kissing, but the banter remained the same. The two of you were actually planning to go on a backpacking trip around Europe but then Tobias had died and it was another round of pain and healing for Jameson, who turned to alcohol for respite. But then the will happened and Avery Kylie Grambs had appeared out of nowhere and the old man’s final game had unfurled. So the mystery girl had been an adjustment for you to say the least.

Avery wasn’t bad. In fact you liked her a lot, you could see yourself forming a friendship with her, a tight bond but the problem was the sheer amount of time she was spending with your boyfriend. After discovering she was the key to solving his grandfather’s final mystery Jameson became obsessed. He craved the answers, thirsted for knowledge. You didn’t mind at first, you let him play his game, you only ever objected the dangerous parts when he risked himself getting hurt. Other than that you said nothing. Then he let on that this all had something to do with Emily. Emily had destroyed him, from inside out. A broken, bitter shell was formed over the real Jameson. You had worked so hard to get him to see that he wasn’t broken or damaged and you feared this might undo it.

But you knew how important Emily had been, how much of his life she’d ruined, you knew Jameson needed the closure and Avery would help him to get there, but after that you expected their interaction to die down. But they didn’t. Not in the slightest. You weren’t jealous at first, you trusted Jameson and didn’t see Avery as a threat, but after a while the meetings felt too frequent and too elongated. It was a little suspicious. When you’d asked Jameson he insisted it was all part of the game.

But then that game finished and it opened up another. Of course there always had to be more to a mystery. They were Hawthorne’s. But you’d had enough, you were tired of the endless myserties. Was it so selfish to want things to go back to how they were before? When the old man’s games were not as dangerous, a little less time consuming and uninvloving of recent billionaire girls.

You’re reeled in from your deep train of thought as Jameson walks in. You look up from your desk, placing your pen down. You flash him a sweet smile in which he returns.

“So where have you been?” you ask, a hint of a forged giggle in the back of your throat.

“Nowhere,” he shrugs, the blatant lie so easily escaping his lips cuts right through your heart.

“Nowhere with brick dust on your blazer and shoes?” you raise an challenging eyebrow, arms folded across your chest.

“I climbed a wall,” he says. Lie number two, you make a mental note.

“I saw you with Avery and Xander in Toby’s wing,” you say bluntly, your face expressionless so he can’t read it.

“Are you spying on me?” he replies, gaping.

You give a delicate shrug in response and don’t answer the question directly, “what were you whispering about?”

“What do you mean?” he furrows his brow, confused.

He’s playing dumb. Fine. He can play dumb. But he won’t able to for much longer.

“I mean what were you and Avery just whispering about,” you ask directly, your tone flat as the tyre you’d burst on his car earlier that morning.

He hesitates. He doesn’t want to tell you, that’s obvious.

“Oh, was it personal?” you ask, raising an eyebrow, opting a cold, curt, feigned sort of concern to your tone.

“Oh no,” he mumbles, “well kind of…Tobias Hawthorne is alive.”

You try not to the let your jaw drop, “your grandfather?”

How had that slimy bastard managed to fake his own death and-

He shakes his head, “my uncle.”

Of course, why hadn’t you seen it sooner? Him and Avery going into his wing, the sneaking around. But then how is the question, Toby had died before Jameson had even been born.

“And so the plot thickens,” you muse, pursing your lips.

“As always,” he says, flashing you a lopsided grin that was so like him, it reminded you of the old Jameson. The one that you got closer and closer to forgetting the less you saw of him.

“Who else knows?” you ask.

“The family,” he shrugs in response.

“And Avery?” you prompt.

“She knows,” he nods, not meeting your eyes.

You raise an eyebrow, “you didn’t mention her name?”

“She was implied when I said family,” he replies.

“She was and I wasn’t,” you ask, the words not being filtered through your brain before you blurt them out. You don’t know why it hurt you so much, it just did.

“It’s not like that,” he shakes his head.

“Okay,” you reply flatly

He shoots you a knowing look and sighs, “y/n.”

“What? I said okay,” you exclaim, throwing your hands up into the air, “that means it’s okay, I’m okay, we’re all okay.”

“You don’t sound okay,” he says gently.

“Well I’m fine,” you snap.

“I didn’t mean it like that, of course you’re part of this family,” Jameson replies, trying to make up for it.

“Forget it, I don’t care,” you retort.

“Common y/n,” he groans.

“No it’s fine, I don’t care,” you shrug, very obviously caring as your voice is high pitched and you’re being far too defensive, “do what you want.”

“She just worked it out,” he explains, “she found out that-“

“I said I don’t care,” you say sharply, eyes pinned to his.

“I know you do,” he murmurs, taking a step closer.

“No I don’t,” you shake your head in denial, “end of story, what’s for dinner?”

“I know I’ve been with her a lot recently,” he sighs.

“A lot is an understatement,” you blurt out, unable to stop the thoughts that circle your mind from finally surfacing.

“It was all part of the game, you understand,” he says as a statement, not a question.

“Of course I understand,” you reply, your voice a little colder than you’d intended but it’s too late to take it back.

For a split second hurt flashed across Jameson’s features but he swiftly continues, “it was the old man’s game.”

“It always is with you,” you say curtly, with an eye roll.

“You knew what you were getting into when you became my girlfriend,” he says, growing irritated, “I warned you-“

“Getting into?” you scoff.

“The old man always has a game,” he presses on, regaining his cool.

“And you always play it,” you snap, the fury inside of your raging a little too violently to be tamed.

“I have to play,” he says, his voice strained.

“No. You don’t. You think you have to play and your grandfather knew that,” you reply, “he knew you had a thirst to play and wouldn’t resist. Prove him wrong Jamie, make him stir for the flipping grave.”

“And what if I don’t want to do that,” he asks, raising his voice slightly.

“Then you’re not the Jameson I know,” you murmur in a low, dark voice.

“Maybe I’m not anymore,” he shrugs, “people change.”

“No,” you shake your head, “people have changed you, one person in particular.”

“Avery is just a friend,” he rolls his eyes, “I don’t understand why you’re getting so hotheaded about it!”

“You’re dimming yourself down for her,” you yell.

“So what?” Jameson challenges, making the volume of your voice.

“That’s not you,” you tell him.

“Maybe it is now,” he cocks his head to the side.

“You know you’re just talking shit,” you spit.

“I like her company,” he shrugs, “and I don’t want to prove the old man wrong, I want to make him proud.”

He’s trying to get under your skin and you know it. He’s doing a good job.

“You can’t live your life trying to prove something to him, he won’t be proud, he’s dead Jameson,” you snap.

“I know he’s dead,” he shouts, “I don’t need you to tell me.”

“Good, now that information is consolidated maybe you’ll come back and live your life,” you say, the harshness in your tone making your throat ache.

“I am living my life,” he retorts.

“Running off with girls to the Laughlin’s cottage at 3am, that’s living your life?” you ask.

“Is this still about Avery?” he asks, then laughs, “you’re pathetic.”

“I’m pathetic?” you yell, “you have spent the majority of the past few weeks at her side, working this shit out and I’ve been patient and I let it happen and I waited but now there’s more to this mystery and I can’t do it again and it’s not fair for you to put me in that situation again. So forgive me if I’m sounding a little pathetic.”

“Fair? My uncle is still out there, still alive,” he replies.

“You never even knew him,” I roll my eyes.

“He’s family,” he roars.

Something about Jameson was that he was loyal to the bone when it came to family.

I shrug, “so was your grandfather and look how he treated you.”

“Don’t speak a word against him,” he says, his voice low, warning, dangerous

“You were never good enough for him and that killed you,” I reply, my voice failing to stay stable, “he broke you and I helped fix you and now we’re going back around the same cycle. Why are you still letting him continue to break you?”

“I said don’t speak a WORD against him!” he tells, his voice powerful

You could cry. You feel like it. But you don’t. For some reason you’re past tears now.

“But when you did it was okay?” I scream back, “when you’d come to your bedroom a wreck and shit talk him, who listened to you then huh? Don’t throw this all back in my face now, don’t you fucking dare.”

“I’m not trying to-“

“Well you are,” you cut him off,

He runs a hand through his hair and shakes his head, “look I don’t know what the hell you’re on this afternoon but-“

“What the hell I’m on?” you scoff.

His face softens and so does his tone, “all this arguing we’re doing, it’s not us,” he says, “it never has been so are we really going to carry on this stupid fight?”

“I don’t know, why don’t you ask Avery?” you ask, it’s petty but you didn’t feel like being mature in this moment

“This keeps circling back to her,” he sighs with an eye roll.

“You have spent the entirety of the morning with her,” I stated “again.”

“I don’t see anything wrong with that,” he says.

“Seriously?” I ask, my jaw hanging slack.

“What?”

“You know what, it doesn’t even matter,” you shake your head and begin to walk out.

“Sweetheart,” he says, lunging forwards to grab your arm. You spin around and can see the desperation seeping from his eyes.

“I’m going out,” you tell him harshly,

“Where?” he asks immediately.

“For a walk,” you shrug, going to turn again. But he holds you firmly in his grip.

“I’ll come with you,” he says.

“No, I need headspace right now,” you snap coldly.

“Okay, that’s fine,” he nods, eyes wide with understanding. You hated that he was being so nice when you were supposed to be mad at him, it wasn’t fair, “but at least take a bodyguard with you.”

“No,” you immediately say.

“Yes,” he argues back.

“I’m not one of you, Jameson,” you quip. You can see in his face that pains him but you’re too furious to care, “people aren’t coming for me, I’m not taking a bodyguard.”

“Look I’m sorry about before but-“

“It’s not about you Jameson,” you yell, “I just need a walk.”

“Okay, but I’m still sorry and please baby, take a bodyguard with you,” he begs.

“I’m not going to,” you reply, “I need to be alone.”

“Fine, okay then,” he shrugs, pretending not to care, “yeah fine, go have fun in nature or something.”

“I will,” you snap, charging out, slamming the door behind you.

***

You start walking with no intention of going anywhere. In a headspace of anger, your pace is swift and dominant. You needed air, you needed a clear head, you needed to get away. Bringing a bodyguard felt claustrophobic. You didn’t want another person breathing down your neck. You just needed to be alone for a while. A million and one thoughts swarm your mind. He probably complained about you to Avery, you think, kicking a rock violently. He’s probably with her right now, telling her what an annoying, selfish, jealous person you are and she’s probably comforting him. The thought of it makes your stomach squeeze.

It was getting darker and colder by the second. In your rage you’d forgotten to bring a hoodie and now you’re absolutely freezing. The street lights flicker on and you suddenly realise you have no idea where you are. You’re cold, alone, lost and a little hungry. You pray it doesn’t start to rain. You get out your phone quickly to look on google maps, but two red words flash up: no connection. Great. Just when you thought today couldn’t get any worse. You wish you hadn’t left the house now, but didn’t know which way to turn to walk back. You walk around the corner of a tall white building, hoping to see a signpost nearby.

That’s when you notice the footsteps of someone behind you. You turn absentmindedly to see a stranger dressed in all black clothing. You couldn’t properly see their face or decipher whether they were a man or woman. Feeling a little sceptical, you choose to cross to the other side of the road, trying to shake or anxious feelings that were creeping in. You spin the ring on your finger, trying to breathe in and out slowly. You side glance at the figure a few times to see that they’re still on the opposite side of the road. You exhale and turn the corner, feeling stupid for getting so het up over nothing.

You hear more footsteps and paranoid you look behind. You feel sick. The mystery stranger is back. Panic seizes your throat and you walk a little faster, noting their feet also pick up the pace. You turn a second corner. So do they. A thousand and one questions flashed up in your mind. What did they want? Why were they following you? And more importantly how long had they been following you for? You’re breathing heavily, maybe too heavily. You don’t want them to know you’re scared.

You fumble to reach your phone, hurriedly finding your contacts. You click Jameson’s name but the call fails. Your eyes flick to your internet, still none. You try again, the cycle repeats. Tears well up in your eyes. You were hopeless, helpless and frightened to death. You begin to fiddle anxiously with your necklace trying to work out what to do next, but your mind was blank. You couldn’t think. The person was a good few meters behind you now. A silent tear of rolls down your cheek as you carry on walking forwards, pretending you’re going somewhere in hope the follower might get bored a leave. They did not. You bite back and audible sob and notice one bar lights up in the top right hand corner of your phone screen. You have one bar of internet and you’ve never felt more relieved. Your finger rushes to hit the call button. One ring and he picks up. It’s a miracle.

“Sweetheart,” he breathes, a sense of relief and a smile in his voice.

“Jamie,” you say, your voice more panicked than you’d intended.

“What’s wrong?”

His voice is immediate and assertive but thick with anxiety. He can sense there’s something wrong, he knows.

“Jamie there’s someone following me,” you hyperventilate, the sharp sudden breaths hurting your chest.

“Where are you?” he asks.

“I don’t know,” you say, your voice shaky, “and I’m panicking.”

“Okay, don’t worry, just keep walking straight,” he instructs, “okay sweetheart?”

“Okay,” you murmur.

“Just breathe,” he soothes, “I’m tracking your location.”

You exhale unevenly and carry on walking.

“Are you near any buildings?” Jameson asks, strategically. You can tell he’s concentrated.

“There’s a housing complex and a few shops across the street,” you describe.

“Good,” he replies, “cross the road and go into one of the shops and stay in there.”

“Okay,” you answer, jogging across the road, taking note of anything that might help Jameson find you.

“What’s the name of the shop you’re going to go into?” he asks, “it might help me track you a little faster.”

You step back to read the cursive white letters, “Betty’s,” you reply, stepping in.

“That’s it?” he confirms.

“That’s it,” you say, carefully stepping inside, seeing the follower cross the road in the refection of the shop window.

Your heart thuds in your chest as the little bell rings to announce your entrance in the shop. It was one of those little knick-knack type shops, small but compact. You pretend to admire a china tea set.

“Are you inside?” Jameson asks, his voice washing some sort of comfort over you.

“Yes,” you say quickly, subconsciously tracing the tablecloth deign with your index finger.

“Have they followed you inside?” he asks.

“No,” you reply, though you haven’t looked up, the shop bell definitely has not rung since your arrival. You are the only customer in this shop. You look up and see them standing outside, you catch their eye and fear flicker through you as you quickly turn away, jolts of sheer nauseating panic runs up and down your abdomen, “Jamie they’re waiting outside, oh god Jameson they’re waiting outside, for me to come out, oh god.”

“Hey! Hey! You have the stay calm,” he says sharply but kindly, “as long as you’re in there you’re safe and I’m on my way now.”

“You found where I am?” you breathe, sounding too much like a child than you care to admit.

“I’m getting into the car as we speak,” he replies.

He’s coming. You tell yourself. You’re going to be okay. You say in your head.

“Stay on the line with me,” you blurt out, “please.”

“Of course baby, I’m not going anywhere,” he says, the concern in his voice made you yearn to be in his arms.

The other end of the phone goes silent except for the sound of a car engine, gently groaning in motion. You try to distract yourself by admiring the little collection of ceramic mouse figurines and try to give all of them a name. That’s when you catch the stranger in your peripheral.

“Jameson I’m scared,” you bite the inside of your cheek, “I’m really scared.”

“I’m coming, just hang in there okay,” he comforts “breathe for me.”

“Jameson,” you exhale, your hands becoming increasingly more restless.

“Hey, sweetheart, take a breath with me okay?” he says, “together?”

“Together,” you nod, despite the fact that he can’t see you, but somewhere deep down you know he knows you’re nodding.

“In through your nose and out through your mouth, okay?” he replies.

I’m through your nose and out through your mouth. You repeat the motion over and over with him over the phone, until you’re bored.

“I’m nearly there,” he mentions after a while.

“You promise?” you say, your breath hitching.

“I promise, just stay where you are,” he says calmly.

“Okay,” you reply.

“Sorry honey we close at 11:00,” comes a voice.

It makes you jump at first, as you yelp in surprise at the old woman beside you. Where had she appeared from? You drop your phone and it crashes to the floor. You realise for the first time how tightly you’d had it pressed to the side of your face as the cold air rushes to that spot and you feel the sticky sweat. You scramble to pick up your phone.

“I’m fine,” you reassure Jameson quickly, before turning the the woman, “sorry, would I be able to stay a few more minutes?”

She glances disapprovingly at you and then her watch, “I don’t think so.”

“It won’t be long, I promise,” you rush.

“I’m sorry but I have to lock up now,” she shakes her head and waves the keys between her fingers.

“Just until my boyfriend gets here,” you try again, desperation slicing through your tone.

“You’re not purchasing anything and it’s closing hours,” she replied sternly, “I need to lock up.”

“Please,” you beg.

“Store policy I’m afraid,” she shrugs flatly.

“I’ll but the whole damn place of you let me stay,” you exclaim, not really sure why the sentence left your mouth but it was too late to take it back now.

“This place isn’t for sale,” she says sourly with pursed wrinkled lips.

“Not literally,” you sigh, “look I’ll make a purchase.”

“No purchases after 11:00,” she responds, blunt as a baseball bat.

“But you just said-“

“We’re closed,” she snaps.

“Please just let me stay for five minutes,” you ask, hoping by some miracle she’ll agree.

“I really can’t do that,” she sighs, with an almost apologetic look on her face “I’m sorry.”

“Two minutes?” you try to compromise.

She stares through you, “I’m going to call the police.”

“There’s someone out there following me outside,” you burst, “so please, if you’re going to call the police on anyone, do it on them.”

The woman gently cocks her head to see the mysterious figure outside the window, her eyes widen by the tiniest fraction and she stares back at you. You wonder what she’s thinking. She chews her lip thoughtfully for a while and then finally replied, “there’s a back way out, I can take you through to there.”

“Thank you,” you exhale in relief.

She walks hurriedly walks away and you follow her, ending up at the very back of the shop. It couldn’t be seen from the window, but how long would it take for the follower to realise? Not long enough, you pray, hoping Jameson would arrive in time. There is a small green door with a lacy translucent curtain across the window.

“Here,” she nods towards it, “get home safe.”

“Thanks,” you say gratefully.

You almost trip out of the back door but managed to stabilise yourself, the old woman slams to door and it nearly clips your heals. You quickly press your phone back to your ear, realising Jameson is still on the line.

“Jamie?” you say.

“I’m still here,” he replies, reading your mind, “Betty’s a bitch.”

You choke on your own spittle, “what?”

“Betty,” he states as if it’s obvious.

“Betty?” you question, hoping he’ll elaborate.

“Well I assume it’s her name,” he says, you could practically hear him shrug, “the woman who just kicked you out of her shop.”

“Oh, you heard all of that?” you say.

“I did,” he confirms, “but I’m two minutes away now.”

“Two minutes?” you check, hope returning your voice.

“Yeah,” he confirms gently.

“I’m still at the back,” you mention, “but I’ll walk to the front to meet you.”

“Okay,” he replies, “I’m so close sweetheart, don’t worry.”

“Okay I-“

All the air is knocked from your lungs as you turn the corner and someone grabs your shoulders and it’s so sudden you forget to scream. Fear runs cold and thick through your veins. You can’t move. The grip is strong and foreign, their hands are callous and your arms ache the longer you’re in their hold. Paralysed, you fail to struggle free. It all happens in a blur. You feel yourself being thrown to the side and you land on the pavement with a hard thump after rolling over your ankle. Pain seizes through it and you bite back a yelp. You look up, struggling to your feet and see Jameson has arrived.

Jameson. Jameson. Jameson.

He’s fighting the mysterious follower who you can now see is man. He’s a few inches taller than Jameson and has much more muscle but Jameson is quicker, more agile. You wish you could help him but the searing agony deriving from your ankle would’ve only made him slower. So you’re now just watching. It’s a tête-a-tête of frantic hits and blocks, all scarily aggressive. The look in Jameson’s eyes is not one you recognise, it’s like the green had been frosted over with ice. The follower lunges at him suddenly and an audible gasp escapes your lips. He has Jameson in a headlock. You stumble forwards, ready to attack him from behind when Jameson twists the man’s arms in an awkward direction, leaving him vulnerable. In the split second Jameson knees him in the stomach and begins to punch him repeatedly.

Jameson’s jaw is clenched, his hair is ragged and wild. A flow of crimson red liquid falls from one nostril and from a new wound just above his eyebrow. His eyes are fierce and gleaming, like a predator on its prey. You’re not sure you know who this man is, he’s not Jameson, he’s a mutation, a weapon, a unrecognisable being.

“Jamie,” you murmur, your voice shaking. You can’t stop yourself, you’re too scared.

He can’t hear properly, he doesn’t even acknowledge you. He carries on punching and punching but the follower seems to be cold out.

“Jameson stop! You’re scaring me!” you yell, fear in your throat but fire in your belly.

He looks up and he freezes, all but his hands that are shaking from the adrelenline rush. He looks down at his bloodied knuckles to the limp figure on ground, then back to me again. He can see the fright in my features that I’m so desperately trying to conceal.

“Hey, I’m sorry,” he says, “it’s okay, let’s go home.”

“Is he dead?” you say, the words so much harsher than you intended.

“No,” he shakes his head gently, “just knocked out, I promise.”

“I-“ you can’t finish the sentence.

“You’re shaking,” he murmurs tentatively, wrapping an arm around you to still your trembling torso.

“I’m fine,” you say, trying to sound strong, but synthetic strength only made you sound weaker.

“You’re not fine,” he shakes his head.

“Let’s just get out of here,” you sigh, then look at him with sparkling eyes, “please?”

“Of course,” he says, concern bleeding across his features.

You begin to walk but have to bite your lip as pain rips through your ankle with weight pressing down on it.

“What wrong?” Jameson asks, his reaction instant and lightning fast.

“Nothing,” you shake your head, trying to carry on without displaying the pain.

But he’s too vigilant for his own good, “are you hurt?”

“No, it’s fine,” you reply, in denial, “I’m fine.”

You’ve found that things are easier to believe if you say them out loud. Unfortunately not in this case.

“Where?” he asks, stopping still, pressing gently down your arms to check for tentative pressure points.

You pull away, “Jamie I’m-“

“Where?” he asks firmly, giving me that look.

“I just rolled over my ankle,” you sigh, “it’s not a big deal.”

“Do you want me to carry you?” he offers.

“No,” you say quickly, too quickly.

The truth was, you did want to be carried. The thought of being in his protective arms, pressed up against his chest was very appealing. But just like he could see your winces and hear your sharp breaths in, you notice his. The fight hadn’t been easy on him, no matter how stubbornly he tries to hide it.

“Just support me and I’ll support you,” you reply.

“I don’t need support,” he says.

You stare at him, “you don’t have to be the knight in shining armour with me, I thought you’d stopped that.”

You’d made a pact at the start of your relationship that Jameson couldn’t play that role. You were there for each other, it wasn’t one or the other.

“Fine,” he grits through his teeth, “we’ll support each other.”

You both walk, labouring, limping and leaning on one another. In the silence of it all you have time to think about all that had happened, a chances you hadn’t previously had with your mind always preoccupied on something else. A tidal wave of guilt almost drowns you.

“I’m sorry,” you burst out suddenly, feeling all of a sudden emotional, as tears run down your face.

You didn’t realise how much yours been keeping it in, your fear, your pain, your guilt, your sorrow.

“Hey, shhhh,” he soothes, caressing your cheek, “shhh shh stop that now, hey, hey.”

“I shouldn’t have left,” you shake your head, “I shouldn’t have got so angry and walked so far alone and it was dark-“

“Y/n, breathe,” Jameson murmurs, “I’m not angry, it’s not your fault, I’m just glad you’re safe now, okay? I would never let him hurt you, you know that right?”

You nod.

“Let’s get to the car and then we can go home, okay?” he suggests softly.

“Okay,” you murmur in response.

He wraps his arm back around your shoulders and holds your hand with the other, steering you towards his car. He walks around to your door, looking over his shoulder cautiously, making sure you are in and safe before he thinks of himself. You’ve never felt safer in a car, your back pressed up against the seat. Your leg bobs up and down uncontrollably, even when your try to stop it. Seems the adrenaline had gotten to you more than you’d thought.

Jameson is swift to get into the driver’s seat and start the car. He silently places his hand on your upper thigh to still the shaking. The warmth of his familiar touch relaxes some of the built up worry in your chest. One knot has been untied from the incomprehensible ball.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

You nod numbly. You didn’t reply with words in fear that you’d spill out the truth. Lying to Jameson was a challenge.

“Stupid question,” he mumbles, “of course you’re not.”

“I think I’m still trying to process what just happened,” you murmur, not a complete lie. You’d only processed parts.

“Okay, that’s fine, take as long as you need,” he says reassuringly, “I’m here if you want to talk.”

You nod again. Then take a breath.

“I’m sorry,” you say, choked up with emotion, “I’m sorry for fighting, I don’t know why I get so annoyed it’s just-“

“It doesn’t matter, all that matters is that you’re safe,” he tells you gently.

“Safe,” you repeat, the word has an odd texture on your tongue.

“You are safe,” Jameson replies firmly.

“I am safe,” you repeat, believing it a little more.

***

The two of you had gotten back to Hawthorne House late. No one was around so no questions were asked. But whilst you showered and changed Jameson insisted on getting the security team on it and you didn’t object. You join Jameson in your shared room after your shower, he’s already waiting with open arms. You clamber into the bed and fall onto his chest. The smell of him indescribably addictive. He wraps his arms around your torso and you wince, tenderness spreading across the tops of your arms and upper back.

“What hurts baby?” he asks, eyebrows knotted with worry.

“Nothing,” you reply, shrugging the pain off.

He looks at you, “you don’t have to lie to me.”

You’re silent for a few beats but then finally murmur, “my arms.”

“Let me see,” he says.

“It’s okay-“

“Let me see,” he whispers, sending a hot shiver down your spine.

You slowly slip of your jumper and expose the rounded bruises from the follower’s fingers. You’d discovered them moments ago in the bathroom, it must’ve been from where he’d grabbed you. You can’t see Jameson’s face but judging by the thick blanket of tense air that had enveloped your surroundings, you have a good idea of what he’s thinking.

“He did this?” he asks, tracing every bruise so delicately it nearly tickles.

“Jamie he grabbed me,” you explain.

“I’ll kill him for laying a finger on you,” he spits, a foreign violence in his tone you weren’t sure you liked.

“Don’t say that,” you say before you can stop yourself.

“What?” he looks at you in wild disbelief.

“Talk of killing him,” you close your eyes, “you’re not a murderer.”

He opens his mouth.

“Don’t you dare argue with me,” you snap, a raw intensity in your voice. You struggle to recall where you found it.

Silence you like a car hits roadkill. Swiftly and out of nowhere with a sickening thud.

“You know you scared me back there,” you murmur, meeting his eyes shyly.

“Me?”

“When you were punching him…” you trail off, “you looked so angry.”

“I was angry” he retorts, “no one should do that, especially not to you. Never to you.”

“Yeah but I really thought you might…” you stop yourself.

“I might what?” he urges you to continue.

“I don’t know,” you say trying to brush it off, “it doesn’t matter.”

“No it does,” he replies, “you thought I might kill him right?”

“It just wasn’t you punching that guys, it wasn’t my Jameson,” you murmur.

“Your Jameson doesn’t protect you,” he yells and you flinch slightly.

You don’t meet his eye, “no, not like that.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you, I just…” he sighs, “I never would’ve forgiven myself if something had happened to you.”

“It would’ve been my fault for storming off like that, god I’m so stupid,” emotion rises thick in your throat.

“Hey, stop beating yourself up about this,” Jameson says, “it was my fault in the first place.”

“No it wasn’t-“

“Yes it was, let’s just forget about this okay,” he insists.

“But what if he comes back? What if he knows where I am? What did he want with me Jamie? What if-“

“It’s all going to be sorted okay, we have so many staff on it right this second,” he says tracing the outlines of your knuckles, “you just need to breathe.”

“I am breathing,” you grit through your teeth.

“What’s worrying you then?” he asks softly.

“I don’t know,” you reply, biting back a sob.

He senses the emotion, “come here.”

You practically collapse into his arms, keeping your tears at bay just barely. There’s something about being in his arms, against the warmth of his body that made the bad things go quiet for a second, that stopped the overwhelming voices in your head, that silences your thudding heart. But even now, things were unusually playing on your mind, despite the comfort.

“I don’t know Jamie,” you murmur into his chest, “I’m scared and exhausted and anxious and I can’t stop thinking about it.”

“Let me help you,” he whisper, gently running his fingers through your hair.

“I don’t think you can,” you mumble, your eyes grappling to stay open.

“I will find a way,” he says, you almost laugh at his stubbornness.

“I don’t want to lose you,” you reply, your voice breaking, “I don’t know anything bad to happen.”

“You’re not going to lose me and I won’t let anything bad happen,” Jameson kisses the top of your head, “I promise.”

“I don’t feel safe,” you admit.

“What’s making you feel unsafe baby?” he asks, aching concern in his voice.

“Before today I’d never even imagined potentially being kidnapped and it just happened today,” you ramble, “and that means there’s so many other things that I couldn’t ever have imagine that might happen.”

“If we spend our whole lives in fear of what might happen we’d forget to live,” Jameson says.

You meet his emerald eyes and try not to melt, “I’m scared.”

“There’s no need to be,” he comforts, “I’m here.”

“You promise?”

“Always,” he says. His voice is so sure, so strong. It almost makes you believe.

“And you’re not going anywhere?”

“Not anywhere without you,” he grins lopsidedly, the real Jameson shining through making your cheeks tint a pale pink.

“I’m sorry,” you say again, the residing guilt flowing back in.

“If you apologise one more time I’m going to do a lyrical dance routine to ‘hot stuff’ only dressed in sequinned hot pants and a top hat,” he says.

“I think I’d quite like to see that,” you can’t help but smile, “I should apologise more often.”

He chuckles softly and kisses the top of your head. You nuzzle into the nape of his neck and allow one tear to slip from the under your mask. Just one.

“I’ve got you baby and I’m not letting go,” Jameson whispers.

“Please don’t let me go,” you murmur, sounding as small as a child.

“I’m not, never ever,” he murmurs, kissing your nose, then cheeks and then a soft kiss on your lips.

You smile, a fluttery feeling in your chest and you kiss him back. His hands snake around your waist, the tentative touch making you tingle a little. You wish you could just focus on Jameson and nothing else but the problem was the scene kept replaying in your head. The man grabbing your shoulders, the bruises left on your skin, the smell of his cologne in your hair. He was everywhere.

“Hey sweetheart, it’s okay,” Jameson soothes, “you’re safe now.”

It’s only then you notice how your entire body is shaking, your bones rattling together. You try to stop but you can’t. He brings you into deeper his arms and holds your quivering limbs together. You wonder if he let go you’d fall apart all together.

***

You didn’t go to school the next day, instead you stayed curled up in Jameson’s arms as he gently traced spirals across your back with his index finger.

You can’t remember the last time you’d felt so in love.

***

Thursday rolls around far too quickly and you know you have to go back. Word about the stalker had been kept quiet but you know you couldn’t stay under your duvet forever. No matter how badly you wanted to. So you wake up early and take your time getting ready. Jameson sleeps like the dead all the way through it, even when you blow dry your hair. You meet Xander who is already at breakfast, eating muffins. You’d promised the week before you’d come and observe his biology project for him, so he could have a second opinion and you didn’t want to break that promise.

“You know you really didn’t have to come,” he says, still chewing, “after you know…”

“I want to Xand, really,” you say, “I can’t avoid it forever and I want to see your project.”

“If you’re sure?” he checks, with an eyebrow raise.

“I’m sure,” you nod, “I swear.”

“Well then, have a muffin or two and then we’ll be on our way,” he grins, handing me one from the plate in the centre.

“Roger that sir,” you smile back, saluting him as you take a bite.

***

School was difficult that day, not the content, just the energy. The problem was you had none. And it was one of those long modified timetable days where your first break of the day was lunch and it wasn’t even until 2:00pm. That in itself was a mood killer. On top of that you couldn’t get the follower out of your head. The events played on some sort of endless loop in your head. You wonder who it might be, why they might have been following you of all people. It was known you were dating Jameson but not that known. Apparently, according to Xander, Oren had been put on high alert and Alisa was working on finding their identity. That should have brought you solace. It didn’t.

But the more you thought about it the more your realised that part of you selfishly didn’t mind that it has happened too much because last night you’d felt more connected to Jameson than you had in forever. It had been a while since it had just been the two of you, no mysteries, no arguments, no Avery. Yesterday had solely been the two of you, all day. Just in the presence of one another but, at school, you hadn’t seen Jameson all morning, seen as you’d left for school early with Xander but he had sent you a string of text messages that you only see at first on your very late lunch break.

morning sweetheart

are you okay??

I know you left early with Xand but I’m still worried about you

text me for ANYTHING okay??

I love you xx

And then an hour later…

you still haven’t text back

are you okay??

I bribed the woman at the front desk for your schedule so you’re probably in class right now

unless you’re not!!

just answer me when you can okay

I love you

Then in the next hour…

ARE YOU OKAY!?

I HAVEN’T SEEN YOU IN THE HALLWAYS

PLEASE ANSWERRR!!!!

I love you ;)

You almost laugh at the cuteness of it all. You type a couple of messages in response incase he bribed the headteacher to let him use the announcement speaker to find you next.

I’m fine Jamie, don’t worry

late lunch break sorry I couldn’t text sooner

They bleep through one after the other, sending through.

meet you after school for our plans

You close your phone quickly and get to the next class, holding your books tightly to your chest. The next few periods better go fast.

***

They didn’t go fast. In fact every millisecond felt like an hour, the day seemed endless. You get out of class and don’t pass Jameson in any hallways yet again sk decide to go to your usual meeting spot after school. You send him a quick message.

waiting outside business studies

You wait for him by the curb. One minute passes, he’s been a minute late before, many times. So you figure it’s okay, leaning on the wall behind you. Five minutes go by next and most kids are leaving or have left the school premises. Maybe his class has run over, your brain suggests. Then it is ten minutes, barely anyone is walking out. The odd person, sure, but never Jameson. You begin to wonder where he might be. Detention? No, he always finds a way out of those. Basketball court? No, he doesn’t like to play with the other guys. Classroom? No, he wouldn’t spend longer than he had to in the school. You sigh, ten minutes isn’t that long after all. Maybe you’re overreacting. Still, you send him another text ‘hey, are you nearly here?’ Half an hour passes. That’s when you get really confused. He should definitely be here by now. Slowly you wonder down several hallways, checking your phone for any messages, calls or voicemails, but there are none. Few students are around and every time you look into a classroom Jameson isn’t there. You make your way back to your original spot, incase he turned up. Forty minutes pass and you try his phone for the last time, ringing him rather than just texting but it goes straight to voicemail. So you resort to calling Xander, hoping he’ll be able to help and ease the tightening knot of worry growing in your chest. There is only two rings.

“Hello y/n,” Xander’s cheerful voice says down the other end, “is there any reason you’re phoning the best Hawthorne on this fine afternoon?”

“Yeah, sorry Xand,” you reply, “but have you seen Jamie anywhere?”

“Don’t be sorry,” he tells me, “and I think I saw him come in earlier, I just presumed you were with him.”

Too many juxtaposed emotions hit you at once. Relief, he’s okay, he’s alive, he’s at home. Hurt, he left without you, abdomen or forgot the plans you had. Annoyance, he’d left without sparing you a second thought.

“No,” you mutter, “I wasn’t.”

“You sound annoyed,” Xander comments.

“I’m fine, sorry Xand,” you reply, putting some more life into your voice to wash away and tense notes, “it’s been a long day.”

“Don’t I know it,” he sighs, “but hey it’s the weekend now, fancy a game of strip bowling when you get back?”

Strip bowling was one of your favourites, mostly because you were very good at it and barely had to strip and also because Jameson usually ended up in his underwear. Xander must’ve sensed the false happiness in your voice and suggested it to be nice.

“Maybe tomorrow,” you say, trying to let him down gently. You did appreciate the gesture, but the thought of playing stop bowling right now did not match the mood.

“Yeesh your day was that bad huh?” he asks softly, playing it off as jokey.

“I’ll be okay,” you reassure him quietly.

“I’m here you know,” he reminds you.

“Thanks Xander,” you reply, but don’t elaborate. You didn’t feel like talking right now.

“Talk to Jamie, he’ll know how to make you feel better,” he suggests sweetly.

You smile through your pain, “yeah, I’ll give it a go.”

You hang up and exhale slowly, he doesn’t know that Jameson is your problem.

***

You get back to Hawthorne house about twenty minutes later. It sounds relatively empty, though it always does, seen as there were so many possible places for people to be. You wander through the entrance, trying to think where Jameson might be. You hear footsteps approaching and spin around to see a blonde in a suit. Wrong brother.

“Have you seen Jameson?” you ask him before he can greet you.

“He was upstairs earlier, with Avery,” Grayson replies.

All the air is knocked from your stomach, “Avery?”

“You didn’t know?” his expression flashed for a fraction of a second into something between guilt and shame before it is composed.

“No…” you trail off.

“Oh,” he replies, with an unreadable expression back on.

“Well thanks anyway,” you say with a synthetic smile.

You walk away quickly before he can respond, looking up with glossy eyes. You ascend the stairs quickly and don’t look back. You feel you need to see for yourself did this is true. But where would he take Avery? You could only hope it wasn’t the roof where the two of you stargazed, that would hurt like hell. You trail down a hallway where voices are coming from and stumble upon a door that is ajar. Inside, Jameson talking to Avery. Your stomach rolls uncomfortably. He’s positioned barely a foot a way and he’s laughing. He looks so beautiful when he laughs, but now it’s ugly. It’s like biting into something sweet and getting a sour taste. It’s not the fact that she made him laugh, it’s the fact he’s laughing like he laughs when he’s with you. That’s the thing that cuts deep. The way his eyes are sparkling and his smile is wide and carefree, you thought he reserved those kind of smiles only for you.

Clearly not.

You turn your back on the scene and rush to your bedroom. You swing the door open forcefully and then slam it shut behind you. So he’d ditched your plans for her. Great. You sigh as you collapse down on your bed feeling an unwelcome tightness squeezing across your chest. Tears well up in your eyes. You didn’t like to cry, you rarely ever did. But right now, you couldn’t do anything about it. The tears just flowed down your cheeks and your whole body shook with each sob. Your heart physically ached, something you hadn’t thought was possible until this moment. A searingly mournful agony rippling through the left side your the chest. You felt so vulnerable, so exposed. You didn’t stop crying the blanket was soaked through, weighted with wet emotion and your throat was so raw it was numb.

***

You binge movies for the rest of the evening, the only feeling left in your system was anger, you’d cried all the sadness out. You felt so done with feeling shit and binging movies gave you that outlet of doing nothing, thinking nothing and feeling nothing. Exhaustion is beginning to win the ongoing battle between the two of you when you hear soft footsteps approaching. Jameson had been practically out of your mind the whole evening, Disney movies are a good distraction, but that is until he walks in. You hear as the door handle turns and he enters. Your eyes flicker to the clock, it’s just gone midnight.

“Hey sweetheart,” he murmurs, taking his suit jacket off and undoing his top button, “you’re up late.”

“What do you want?” you ask, eyes glued to Elsa’s performance of ‘let it go’ on the tv screen.

He immediately notices something is off and walks over, “woah, hey, what’s wrong?”

“Oh so now you care?” you scoff, looking him dead in the eye.

“What did I do?” he asks quickly, cluelessly.

“You are unbelievable,” you exclaim, switching the movie off before hurling the control across the room.

Jameson stares in disbelief, “why are you so pissed off?”

“You don’t know why I’m annoyed?” you ask, dumbfounded.

“No…” he replies hesitantly, like he’s treading on egg shells.

“Seriously?”

“Seriously,”

“Oh my god,” you laugh bitterly, shaking your head, “tell me you’re joking, please.”

“I’m not joking,” he says, the desperation and worry evident in his tone.

“Do you even know what we were supposed to do today?” you ask with a withered look.

A moment of realisation strikes and you notice as his eyes widen and his jaw drops a little.

“Shit. I’m sorry, I forgot,” he says, actually looking guilty. You almost feel sorry for him.

“Yeah I know,” you deadpan, folding your arms across your chest.

“There’s just been a lot going on lately and with the following and then I was days behind on the thing with Toby and-“

“Am I some sort of burden,” you retort, eyebrows raised.

“What? No! I never said that,” he exclaims, his voice raised.

“Okay,” you shrug, nonchalantly. The small display of passive aggression would get under his skin, prickling it like an unscratchable itch.

“Last time we argued it ended with you being followed, I don’t want you in that situation again,” he says, his voice dominant and definitive.

“You’re making this about you!” you yell, rage blinding your vision, “what you want, for me!”

“Oh so you want to be followed, stalked?” he asks, with a forced cruel laugh.

“That’s not what I said,” you snap, eyes narrowed.

“Sounds like it,” he bites back, the bitterness in his voice hurting you far more than you cared to admit.

You don’t say anything for a long while but eventually cut through the long silence, “I even text you about it,” you say quietly.

“What?” he replies, head cocked to the side, confused.

“About tonight,” you say, raising your hands into the air with an eye roll.

“No you didn’t!” he yells back, defensively.

“Yes I did,” you scream.

“Look, this is the last message I got,” he exclaims, shoving his phone’s bright screen into your face.

‘late lunch break sorry I couldn’t text sooner’

You stare at the message and then quickly open your phone to double check. Your message hadn’t gone through, you look up glaring at him. You were mad he didn’t remember, mad the message never went through and just mad in general.

“It didn’t go through, I couldn’t help it,” he defends.

“You still forgot,” you press on, getting mor annoyed by the second, “I shouldn’t have to remind you that you have plans with your girlfriend.”

“Look, I’m really sorry,” he replies and you can see the meaning in his face, “we’ll reschedule.”

“I don’t want to do it anymore,” you tell him nonchalantly. You know you’re being petty, but you can’t help it.

“Oh common y/n,” he says.

“No I don’t,” you shrug. He’d messed it up, that opportunity was passed now.

“Look I just needed to-“

“What you needed to do was stick to your word, what you needed to do was remember when you had things plans, what you needed to do was think before you acted,” you say in a low voice, interrupting him, “but you did none of that.”

“I can’t have a life now?” he scoffs, growing irritated, “that’s not you.”

“What’s not me?” you scowl.

“This, right now,” he says, “you’re being so controlling!”

You raise your eyebrows, almost laughing, “controlling? You started this argument!”

“No I didn’t!” he argues.

“You know what, if you didn’t want to have it out then you shouldn’t have asked why I was angry,” you roll your eyes, “so just forget about it.”

“Oh would you STOP doing that,” he yells.

“What?”

“The whole ‘forget about it’ thing, it’s so fucking annoying,” he retorts, anger creeping up in his tone.

“You know what else is annoying?” you ask him, “when your boyfriend is hanging out constantly with some random girl who inherited all his grandfather’s money, that’s really fucking annoying.”

He’s silent. Nothing to say for once. No witty reply, no deflection, nothing. His face is impossible to read, blank.

“Hang on, that’s not quite the right word,” you continue, “what about aggravating, demoralising, hurtful-“

“You know I never would’ve pinned you as a jealous possessive girlfriend,” he shakes his head, with a cruel chuckle.

“I’m not!” you snap, “but you lied Jameson, why did you feel the need to lie!?”

“Lie?”

“You told me a few days ago you’d climbed a wall and if I hadn’t known any better I would’ve believed you,” you say, “but you weren’t climbing a wall, you were with Avery.”

“This,” he says exasperatedly, “this is exactly the reason I lied.”

“What?” you ask.

“This overreaction,” he explains, making some weird hand gesture.

“I’m overreacting?” you scoff, as your eyebrows shoot to your forehead.

“Completely,” he exclaims.

“So let me just get this straight,” you begin, “you’d have never pinned me as a jealous possessive girlfriend but you lied to me about ditching our plans to spend time with another girl because you were worried about an overreaction? Right, that makes sense.”

“I’m sorry,” he exhales, “I’m sorry.”

“No you can’t just say sorry and then think it’s all going to be okay,” you shake your head, “sorry is just a stupid word, it means nothing.”

“I didn’t mean to say what I said just now and I am sorry that I hurt you,” Jameson says desperately, “I didn’t mean to.”

“It’s not just that! You blew off our plans for her,” you yell with a sob, “so yeah that kind of fucking hurts.”

“Sweetheart I didn’t mean to-“

“Yeah well you did,” you laugh bitterly, aggressively wiping away your tears, “and I’m crying over it which is just stupid.”

“It’s not stupid,” he tells you gently.

“Yes it is stupid Jameson,” you snap, the tears only flowing thicker and faster, “I feel like an idiot.”

“You shouldn’t,” he insists.

“Well I do, I’m such an idiot. I’m an idiot for fighting with you, I’m an idiot for getting myself followed, I’m an idiot for thinking that someone could actually love me, I’m an idiot for not seeing the signs sooner and I’m an idiot for crying over it all now,” you snivel, roughly scrubbing your tear-stained cheeks.

“Woah, hey,” he says, “sweetheart I love you. Just you.”

“Well it doesn’t feel like it lately,” you say, choking back a sob desperate to leave your throat.

His face softens, “sweetheart…”

He reaches out to touch me but you flinch away. His gentle touch is only a reminder of the good person he is and how much you love him for it. And you can’t afford to fall for it, not again, the pain was too much.

“You’re hurting me Jamie,” you say, your voice breaking as you jab a finger to your heart, “this is hurting me.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he murmurs, as his eyes mellow.

“If you want to be with her I’d rather you just tell me,” you whimper, “it would save me the pain of all this back and forth and sneaking around and finding out. Just tell me straight.”

“I don’t want to be with Avery,” he says, “I never have.”

“You don’t look at me how you look at her,” you say bitterly, getting it off of your chest.

“You’re right I don’t,” he agrees. Your heart plummets, here it comes, the confession, the break up, the empty sorrys and eyes filled with tears. “I don’t look at you like I look at her, because I look at her like any other person on this planet, but when I look at you I’m looking at my world. And I’d sure as hell hope that differs from the look that I gave to everyone else.”

A wave of emotion coats your skin, soaking you through. His world. The words repeat over and over and over until you feel delirious.

“Do you mean that? Do you really mean that?” you whisper.

“Of course I do,” he sighs, “don’t you understand? I love you, it’s always been you, it will never not be you! You’re my person, you’re my other half, I was supposed to meet you and fall in love with you. You give me purpose and passion and so much more. When you called me the other night after our fight I’ve never been more frightened in my life, I was freaking out over here. I’ve never felt so panicked, so sick with the thought of someone being hurt. I’m in so love with you that I can’t even explain it and I can’t believe I led you to doubt it. Avery is a friend, I promise, she means nothing to me compared to you, trust me. How can I prove that to you?”

“I don’t know Jameson,” you shout, your head aching from this endless circle of arguments.

“Then marry me!” he yells, then his voice softens, “marry me.”

You freeze, every muscle in your body suddenly falling into a state of paralysis, “what?”

“You heard me,” he says, his expression too serious.

“Jameson,” you murmur, barely getting his name out.

“Marry me.”

a/n: I’m a sucker for fat dramatic impulse decisions (it’s a problem, you may have gathered from my more recent fics) SOZ GUYS 😘😘 anywayyysss the time frame is roughly (and I mean very ROUGHLY) based around chapters 11-13 of the Hawthorne brothers incase you were wondering

thanks for the req anon, so sorry again for the wait, hope you enjoyed the read 🤍🤍 if you made it to the end and didn’t DNF halfway through, well done!! can you guys tell I got way too carried away, this fic was so all over the place but I posted it anyway bc yolo

there will be no part 2!! sorry!! I really need a break from reqs… you decide how you answer 🤭🤭

TIG masterlist

#the inheritance games #tig #jameson hawthorne #jameson hawthorne x reader #i love jameson hawthorne #jameson winchester hawthorne #jameson x reader #jameson #jameson hawthorne x you #jameson hawthorne one shot #the brothers hawthorne #the final gambit #the hawthorne legacy #tig fics #tig fic #jameson x avery #jamesonavery #javery

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