#and then i get home and i have like 6 hours until i have to go to bed and my friends want to go to a movie and it’s like.

[rafesapologist]

the boy is mine ─ rafe cameron; chapter three

summary: you were an erudite kook with her life ahead of her, very highly sought after by almost every man from figure 8 all the way to the cut. but you only wanted rafe cameron, and just in the typical nature of getting everything you wanted, you were going to have him.

warnings: dr*g use, alcohol, suggestive themes

The following week at school was agonizing, brutal even. You were thrust back into the relentless rhythm of your usual routine: waking up at 6 AM, donning your stiff uniform, and enduring seven grueling hours of classes. You pushed through the school day only to return home and bury yourself in more studying. Normally, you approached this regimen with a resigned acceptance, but this week was different. This week, everything bothered you.

After the encounter at Sarah's house, you felt as though a fire had been ignited within you, a fervent flame that left you restless and craving more. The moment in the kitchen with Rafe had been electrifying, a tantalizing taste of something you had never experienced before. It was more than just a fleeting interaction; it was a revelation, a stark contrast to the monotony that had characterized your life until then. You realized you wanted more of that—more excitement, more unpredictability, more Rafe Cameron.

As you sat through each class, your mind drifted back to him, replaying every detail of your encounter. His touch, his gaze, the way he made you feel seen and alive. Each memory sent a thrill through you, making it harder to focus on the mundane tasks at hand. You found yourself staring out the window, daydreaming about what might happen next, how you could cross paths with him again, and what that might lead to.

This newfound desire clashed violently with your disciplined nature, creating an internal turmoil that you couldn't shake. The rigid structure of your life, once a source of comfort and stability, now felt suffocating. You longed for the excitement that Rafe embodied, a break from the relentless pursuit of academic excellence that your parents had drilled into you.

Every night, as you sat at your desk poring over textbooks, the thought of Rafe lingered at the edge of your consciousness, a tantalizing distraction that pulled you away from your studies. You wondered what he was doing, who he was with, and whether he ever thought about you. The questions spun through your mind, feeding the fire that had been lit within you.

By the time Friday rolled around, you were desperate for a change. The week had felt like an eternity, each day dragging on with excruciating slowness. You knew you couldn't keep going like this, caught between the expectations of your parents and your newfound yearning for something more. As you packed up your books and headed home, you resolved to find a way to see Rafe again. You needed to feel that spark, that electricity, just one more time at the least.

When you got home, you headed straight to your bedroom. Your parents, accustomed to your diligent study habits, didn't question your haste. The door clicked shut behind you, and you immediately grabbed your phone, dialing Sarah Cameron’s number. The seconds stretched painfully as it rang, your heart pounding faster with each passing moment. Finally, she answered, her voice bright and welcoming.

"Hey, Y/N!" Sarah’s chirpy tone filled the line, "What's up?"

"Sarah, hey," you responded, a smile spreading across your face. You began to pace the room, biting down on your lip, nervous but eager to ask her the question that had been burning inside you all week. "Are you doing anything tonight? We should get together and do something."

There was a brief pause on the other end, followed by a laugh. "Funny you ask! Actually, I was just thinking about calling you. There's a bonfire on the beach tonight. Some of the guys, and Rafe, are going to be there. You in?"

Your heart skipped a beat at the mention of Rafe’s name. "Yeah, that sounds perfect," you said, trying to keep your voice steady despite the excitement bubbling inside you. "What time?"

"Around eight," Sarah replied. "You can come over to my place first, and we can head there together."

"Great, see you then," you said, hanging up the phone. A sense of exhilaration washed over you as you looked at the clock, calculating the hours until you would see Rafe again.

You wasted no time getting ready, feeling a pressing need to outdo everyone else at the bonfire in hopes that Rafe’s attention would be solely on you. Each choice was careful and deliberate, your fingers lingering over fabrics and colors as you selected the perfect outfit. You settled on a simple sundress that hugged your figure in all the right places, its hem teasingly short, just grazing your thighs. The fabric accentuated your tan, making your skin glow with warmth.

You styled your hair into loose curls, aiming for an effortless beauty that suggested you hadn’t tried too hard, even though you had meticulously crafted every strand. Your makeup was a masterful blend of subtlety and allure, enhancing your natural features without appearing overdone. The delicate sweep of highlighter on your cheekbones caught the light just right, and the gentle curve of your eyeliner made your eyes pop, giving you an air of understated sophistication.

As you stood in front of the mirror, you felt a surge of confidence. You looked good, and you knew it. There was a thrill in the anticipation, in the possibility of what the night could bring. Your mind kept drifting back to the kitchen, to the way Rafe had looked at you, his gaze lingering, intense and unspoken. You wanted more of that, more of him, and tonight felt like the perfect opportunity.

Grabbing your bag, you took one last glance in the mirror, ensuring everything was perfect. The sun was setting, casting a golden glow through your window, a promise of the night to come. You took a deep breath, steadying your nerves, and headed out the door, your heart racing with excitement and the thrill of the unknown.

The drive to Sarah’s house felt like a blur, your mind occupied with thoughts of Rafe. When you arrived, the mansion stood grand and imposing, its windows reflecting the last rays of the setting sun. You hurried to the door, your steps quick and light, a smile already forming on your lips as you anticipated the evening ahead.

You knocked softly, your heart hammering in your chest as you waited for someone to open the door. With your arms crossed over your chest, you stood there, full of anticipation and nerves bubbling up in the pit of your stomach. Finally, the door swung open, and you were met with the face that had been preoccupying your mind for days—Rafe.

Your heart nearly stopped, breath hitching subtly at the sight of him. His tall, intimidating stature filled the doorway, his eyes meeting yours with an intensity that made you feel small and exposed. His smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, and he drawled, "Princeton."

The casual nickname sent a shiver down your spine, a mix of irritation and intrigue swirling within you. "Come in," he said, stepping aside with a languid grace that only heightened your awareness of him. You stepped into the house, and as the door clicked shut behind you, the air seemed to thicken with a charged anticipation.

Rafe leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his chest. His gaze swept over you with a deliberate slowness, his eyes taking in every detail of your sundress, your loose curls, and the way you tried to appear effortless. His scrutiny made your skin tingle, a warm flush creeping up your neck. "Sarah said you were coming to the bonfire tonight?" he asked, his voice low and smooth, each word deliberate and drawn out.

"Uh, yeah," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. "She invited me, so I thought I'd come."

Rafe's eyes narrowed slightly, the smirk never leaving his face. "Well, we're glad to have you," he said, his tone carrying a hint of something you couldn't quite place. "Should be a fun night."

You nodded, trying to keep your composure. "Yeah, I'm looking forward to it."

Rafe replied with a breathy, half-hearted laugh as he pushed off the doorframe, taking a slow step closer to you. His presence was almost overwhelming, each movement measured and deliberate. "Yeah, me too," he said, his tongue grazing his teeth slowly, his eyes flickering from your eyes to your chest.

There was a brief moment of silence between you and Rafe as he eyed you, and all you could do was stand there, engulfed in his daunting demeanor that made you feel ten times smaller under him. Your cheeks felt hot as you stood under his gaze, unsure of what to say or if you should speak at all.

Rafe's smirk deepened as he watched you, clearly enjoying the effect he had on you. His eyes darkened, filled with an intent that made your breath hitch. He took another step closer, the space between you shrinking, his body heat radiating toward you. "Sarah's upstairs getting ready," he spoke up suddenly, his voice low and hushed, the proximity making it feel like a secret meant just for you. "I'll see you there."

You managed a nod, your throat dry. "Okay," you whispered, barely able to find your voice.

He lingered for a moment longer, his eyes lingering on yours with a look that was impossible to decipher. The silence stretched, heavy and charged with unspoken words and lingering glances. It felt as if time had slowed, every second stretching into eternity, filled with the sound of your heartbeat thundering in your ears.

Finally, Rafe turned and walked away, leaving you to collect your scattered thoughts. As you stood there, your heart still pounding from the encounter, you couldn't help but replay the scene in your mind. The way he looked at you, the warmth of his breath as he spoke, the intensity of his gaze—it was all too much, yet not enough. His presence lingered in the air, like a tangible force you could still feel on your skin.

Your breath came in shallow, uneven bursts as you tried to steady yourself. The realization of how deeply he affected you settled in, an exhilarating and terrifying thought all at once. Part of you wanted to run after him, to chase that feeling, while another part urged caution, knowing the danger that came with someone like Rafe Cameron.

You shook away your thoughts and headed up the stairs to Sarah's room, determined to shift your focus back to getting ready for the bonfire. The encounter with Rafe had left you rattled, but you couldn’t afford to let it dominate your mind.

As you approached Sarah’s door, you knocked softly before pushing it open, stepping inside with caution. The room was warm and inviting, the soft glow of fairy lights casting a gentle hue across the space. Sarah was seated at her vanity, her cheerful smile immediately putting you at ease. She was in the middle of her beauty routine, setting powder still dusted across her face.

"Hey!" she greeted, her enthusiasm infectious. "You can sit on my bed if you want, I'm almost ready."

You nodded, offering a small smile in return as you made your way to her neatly made bed. Sitting down, you watched as she meticulously applied her makeup, each movement precise and practiced. The scent of her perfume wafted through the air, a delicate floral fragrance that filled the room.

"Thanks for inviting me tonight," you said, settling onto Sarah's plush bed, trying to keep your voice steady. "I needed a break from all the studying."

Sarah glanced at you through the mirror, her eyes sparkling with warmth. "Of course. We're gonna have fun tonight, I promise."

You watched as she continued applying her makeup, each brushstroke precise and practiced. The scent of her perfume filled the room, a delicate floral fragrance that mingled with the soft glow of fairy lights draped around her vanity. Her vanity table was a treasure trove of beauty products, each item meticulously arranged, reflecting her attention to detail.

"How's everything been?" she asked, breaking the comfortable silence. "You seem a little stressed."

You sighed, running a hand through your hair, the strands slipping through your fingers. "It's just been a lot lately. School, parents, you know the drill."

Sarah nodded sympathetically, her gaze softening. "Yeah, I get it. But tonight, we're forgetting all that. Just a night to relax and have some fun."

You smiled, feeling a bit lighter at her words. "Sounds like exactly what I need."

Sarah turned back to her mirror, adding the finishing touches to her look with a steady hand. "Any particular reason you were so eager for a break? Or is it just the usual?"

You hesitated, your mind flashing back to Rafe and the way his gaze had lingered on you. The memory sent a shiver down your spine. "I guess... it's just been a while since I did something for myself. Needed to remind myself there's more to life than textbooks and exams."

Sarah chuckled softly, a knowing look in her eyes. "You're right about that. And who knows, maybe tonight will be more exciting than you think."

As she finished up, she turned to you with a radiant grin. "Ready to head out?"

You took a deep breath, feeling a mix of anticipation and nervousness. The prospect of the bonfire, and seeing Rafe again, was both thrilling and terrifying. "Yeah, let's do this."

Once you stepped onto the scene, the bonfire was already bustling and full of life, loud music pulsing through the night air. The flames danced high into the sky, casting flickering shadows across the crowd. Part of you felt anxious, a knot of unease twisting in your stomach. This wasn’t your first party, but the large crowd and loud noises, combined with the thought of running into Rafe, made you feel somewhat sick to your stomach.

Despite the nerves gnawing at you, you put on a facade of false confidence, walking with your head held high as you and Sarah approached the throng of people. The laughter and chatter were almost overwhelming, a cacophony of voices blending with the beat of the music. You scanned the crowd intently, searching for familiar faces and, perhaps, one face in particular.

The bonfire's light flickered on everyone’s faces, giving the scene an almost surreal glow. You could see groups of friends laughing together, some couples wrapped in each other’s arms, and others dancing with abandon to the rhythm of the night. Sarah gave you an encouraging smile, her hand brushing against your arm in a gesture of support.

“Let’s grab a drink,” she suggested, leading you towards a makeshift bar set up on a long wooden table. The sight of it was a welcome distraction, a chance to steady your nerves.

You nodded, following her lead. As you walked, you couldn’t help but let your eyes wander, hoping to catch a glimpse of Rafe. The anticipation of seeing him again sent a thrill through you, despite the anxiety it also brought. The memory of his intense gaze and the subtle way he toyed with the string of your bikini was still fresh in your mind, making your cheeks warm at the thought.

At the bar, Sarah handed you a cup filled with something fruity and strong. You took a sip, the cool liquid helping to calm your racing heart. The night was still young, and you were determined to enjoy yourself, to let go of the worries and just be in the moment.

Sarah nudged you playfully, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “Feeling better?”

You laughed softly, the sound almost drowned out by the music. “Yeah, a little. Thanks.”

She raised her cup in a mock toast. “To a night of fun and no stress.”

You clinked your cup against hers, smiling genuinely this time. “To fun and no stress.”

As you took a sip, a growing crowd caught your attention from the corner of your eye, a few feet away. Intrigued, you turned your head, squinting to get a better look at whatever had captivated them. Through a small gap in the throng, you peered in, your eyes adjusting to the dim, flickering light of the bonfire.

Your heart dropped. There he was, Rafe Cameron, sitting in a circle with his friends. The bonfire's flames cast an eerie glow, dancing shadows playing across their faces. You watched in stunned silence as Rafe leaned over, his eyes dark and intense. A line of powder lay across his lap, stark white against the fabric of his jeans. He sniffed it up quickly, then tilted his head back, a look of raw euphoria washing over his features. The sight was jarring, his usual composed demeanor replaced by something unsettling and raw.

Your jaw dropped, your body freezing as the realization hit you like a cold wave. The Rafe you had been daydreaming about, whose touch had lingered on your skin in your fantasies, was now someone else entirely in this moment. The crowd around him seemed oblivious to the impact of what you were witnessing, their laughter and conversation continuing as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

Your mind raced, a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions crashing together. Disbelief and disappointment mingled with a lingering sense of curiosity. Was this who Rafe truly was, or just another facet of his complex persona? You felt a mix of emotions—concern for him, a touch of anger, and an unsettling intrigue.

You felt minuscule, almost insignificant, as you bore witness to the scene unfolding before you. The sight of Rafe, so absorbed in his actions, made your cheeks flush with a tumultuous mix of embarrassment and confusion. The heat crept up your face as you observed his focused expression, his eyes dark and intense, holding a mysterious allure that was both unsettling and oddly captivating. The reality of what you saw clashed harshly with the fantasy you had built in your mind, an illusion of Rafe that didn’t involve such reckless indulgence.

Rafe was a Kook, after all. You should have known better than to expect any less from a boy who lived in that world. But the Rafe you had daydreamed about, the one whose touch had sent shivers down your spine and whose gaze had made your heart race, wasn’t supposed to be tangled up in this. The stark contrast left you feeling disoriented, as if the ground beneath you had shifted, leaving you unsure of your footing.

Sarah’s voice cut through the fog of your thoughts, snapping you back to the present. "Everything alright?" she asked, her tone filled with concern.

You blinked, shaking your head slightly to clear the haze. "Yeah," you replied, your voice tinged with uncertainty. "Just... thinking."

Sarah followed your gaze, her eyes narrowing as she took in the scene. "Don't mind them," she said, a hint of exasperation coloring her words. "They always get up to stupid stuff at these things."

You nodded, though your mind was still reeling from the unexpected turn the evening had taken. Sarah’s words were meant to reassure you, but the lingering image of Rafe’s dark, intense gaze and the undeniable reality of his world clung to you like a shadow, refusing to be dispelled.

You shook off your thoughts, forcing your focus back to your conversation with Sarah. The rhythmic exchange of words and laughter served as a distraction from the chaotic whirlwind of emotions within you. The topics drifted from school to fashion, from mutual acquaintances to harmless speculations about the future. The normalcy of it all was comforting, a temporary balm to the disquiet Rafe had stirred up.

Then, a familiar voice broke through the bubble of your conversation. "Hey guys," Topper greeted, a smirk playing on his lips as he leaned in to press a quick kiss to Sarah's cheek.

"What're you two gossiping about?" he asked, his tone teasing.

"None of your business, Topper," Sarah retorted with a playful roll of her eyes, nudging him gently.

You managed a hesitant, half-hearted laugh, feeling a bit like an outsider in their easy banter. You took a nervous sip from your cup, the cool liquid doing little to soothe the anxious flutter in your chest. Your eyes roamed the crowd, searching for Rafe almost involuntarily, expecting to see him nearby.

Topper’s presence, though friendly, only served to heighten your awareness of Rafe. Your gaze flitted across the sea of faces, scanning for any sign of him. The crowd seemed to ebb and flow around you, a moving tapestry of laughter, shouts, and music, but all you could think about was where Rafe might be and whether he was watching you.

Topper continued to chat with Sarah, his voice a steady background hum. You tried to engage, to laugh at the right moments and nod along, but your mind kept drifting back to the image of Rafe, his dark eyes and the way they seemed to pierce right through you.

As if sensing your distraction, Sarah glanced at you with a knowing look. "Y/N, you good?" she asked, her voice laced with genuine concern.

You blinked, forcing a smile. "Yeah, just a bit tired, I guess," you replied, trying to sound convincing.

"Well, we can always head back inside if you want," Sarah offered, her tone considerate.

Before you could respond, a loud burst of laughter erupted nearby, drawing your attention. Your heart skipped a beat as you saw Rafe among the group, his head thrown back in amusement, his presence commanding even in the midst of the lively crowd. He looked different, more relaxed, yet still exuding that magnetic aura that seemed to pull you in no matter how hard you tried to resist.

Your gaze met his for a fleeting moment, and he smirked, raising an eyebrow as if to challenge you. You quickly looked away, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks once more. The tension, the curiosity, the inexplicable draw towards him—it was all still there, simmering just beneath the surface.

Sarah's voice brought you back to the present. "So, what do you think? Head inside or stay out here?"

You hesitated, the decision feeling heavier than it should. "Let's stay a bit longer," you finally said, your voice firmer than before.

Sarah nodded in response, giving you a supportive smile. As the night continued, you found yourself more intoxicated than you had anticipated. You and Sarah took shot after shot over the next few hours, and before you knew it, you were definitely drunk. A liberating sensation washed over you, a freedom you hadn't felt in your entire life, like you were floating and everything else was background noise.

The bumping music thumped in your ears as you swayed alongside Sarah, the world around you a vibrant blur of lights and laughter. You giggled at her exaggerated dance moves, the infectious joy of the moment wrapping you in its embrace. For once, you were truly having fun, and it was a feeling you wanted to hold onto forever.

You excused yourself from Sarah, telling her you were getting another drink. She waved you off with a nod, her own laughter echoing in your ears as you stumbled towards the wooden bar across the sand. The bonfire’s glow illuminated the path, casting flickering shadows that danced along with you.

The bar was a rustic setup, a makeshift oasis of alcohol and camaraderie in the midst of the beach party. You leaned against the counter, your head buzzing with the pleasant fog of intoxication. The bartender, a friendly-faced guy with a scruffy beard, raised an eyebrow in recognition and poured you another drink without needing to ask.

You took the cup, the cool liquid sloshing inside as you turned to look back at the crowd. Your eyes instinctively searched for Rafe, a part of you hoping to catch another glimpse of him, to feel that rush of adrenaline once more. The firelight cast a warm glow over everything, making the night feel almost magical, like a scene from a dream.

As you took a sip, the world spun just a bit too quickly, and you lost your balance, stumbling backward. A pair of strong hands caught you from behind, steadying you gently. Before you could respond, you turned around to see who had caught you, only to be left speechless at the familiar figure towering over you. Rafe's piercing gaze met yours, his expression a mix of concern and amusement.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice soft yet firm, grounding you in the moment.

Your breath caught in your throat, the proximity of his presence overwhelming your senses. "Y-yeah, I think so," you managed to stammer, feeling the heat rush to your cheeks. You tried to regain your composure, but his intense gaze held you captive.

Rafe's hands lingered on your arms for a moment longer before he let go, a small, reassuring smile playing on his lips. "Good," he said, his eyes never leaving yours. "Wouldn't want you getting hurt."

The music and laughter from the bonfire seemed to fade into the background, the world narrowing down to just the two of you. The warmth of his touch still tingled on your skin, and you felt an inexplicable pull toward him, a magnetic attraction that you couldn't deny.

"Thanks," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "I guess I should be more careful."

Rafe chuckled softly, the sound sending shivers down your spine. "Yeah, maybe," he replied, his tone light yet laced with something deeper. "But where's the fun in that?"

His words lingered in the air, a challenge wrapped in a tease, and you couldn't help but smile. The night was filled with possibilities, and standing there with Rafe, you felt a thrill of excitement and anticipation.

"You enjoying the party?" you asked, trying to keep the conversation going, your voice steadying as you spoke.

Rafe's smile widened, his eyes sparkling with a mix of mischief and something more. "I am now," he said, his voice low and intimate, making your heart race. "How about you?"

You nodded, feeling a rush of warmth at his words. "Yeah, it's been... interesting," you admitted, your gaze never leaving his.

He chuckled, his smirk growing as he nodded at your reply. "I see. It's a wonder you've been able to be around Sarah drunk this long," he shrugged, taking a sip of his beer. His eyes sparkled with amusement, the dim light of the bonfire casting shadows on his sharp features, accentuating the sharp lines of his jaw and the mischievous glint in his eyes.

"She's not so bad," you said, gazing up at him, trying to keep your tone confident. "Besides, I don't think I'm much better than her right now." You let out a small laugh, picking nervously at the rim of your cup. The alcohol had given you temporary courage, but under Rafe's scrutinizing gaze, you felt the familiar flutter of nerves, like butterflies trapped in your stomach.

Rafe tilted his head, his eyes roaming over your face with an intensity that made your breath catch. "Didn't think you'd be much of a drinker, Princeton," he remarked, cocking an eyebrow with an amused glint in his eye.

"Yeah, well," you shrugged, trying to play it cool. "There's a lot you don't know about me."

He took another step closer, the scent of his cologne mixing with the salty sea air and the faint smell of the bonfire. "Is that so?" His voice was low, almost a whisper, sending a shiver down your spine. You could feel the heat radiating off his body, the electric pull drawing you closer.

You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest as you attempted to keep your composure. "Yeah," you managed, gulping silently and biting down on your bottom lip, trying to steady yourself against the swirling emotions inside you.

Rafe's eyes darkened suddenly, the familiar smirk plastered on his face as he took a step closer. "Well," he spoke in a low tone, his voice a teasing mockery of your earlier confidence, "I'd love to find out." The space between you seemed to shrink, the air thick with unspoken tension. Rafe's presence was overwhelming, his proximity sending waves of heat through your body. The flickering light from the bonfire cast shadows on his face, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw and the intensity in his eyes.

You felt a shiver run down your spine as he leaned in, his breath warm against your ear. "I bet there's probably a lot of things you hide under that 'good girl' act you do." His words sent a wave of heat through your body, igniting a fire that had been simmering since your first encounter. You tried to steady your breath, but the proximity of his body and the intensity in his voice made it nearly impossible.

You shook your head, feeling weaker by the minute as Rafe kept his burning gaze on you. "It's not an act..." you sheepishly tried to defend yourself, avoiding the intensity of Rafe's stare.

He chuckled lowly, shaking his head in disbelief. "I have a hard time believing that. See, I think you parade around here acting innocent and oblivious to everything, like you're only concerned with your precious scholarship and getting into some Ivy League school. But really, I bet you're begging just to be touched."

Your eyes widened at his accusation, taken aback by his statement. It was partially true; your entire personality wasn't just about school, but you surely weren't sleazy either, to be begging for attention in the way that Rafe made it sound. "No, I'm not," you protested, your voice trembling with a mix of indignation and uncertainty.

Rafe's eyes narrowed, his smirk growing more pronounced. "Oh, really?" he said, taking another step closer, his presence overwhelming. "Then why do I see you looking at me like that? Why are you trembling right now?" His fingers grazed your arm, sending a jolt of electricity through your body. "Admit it, Princeton. You want more than just good grades and a spotless reputation."

You swallowed hard, your heart racing as his words cut through your defenses. You tried to steady your breathing, to regain some semblance of control, but the intensity of the moment made it impossible. "You don't know anything about me," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Rafe's smile widened, a glint of triumph in his eyes. "Maybe not. But I'm willing to find out," he murmured, his fingers trailing up your arm to cup your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. "And I think you want that too."

You felt a rush of emotions, a cocktail of fear, excitement, and desire swirling within you. The logical part of your mind screamed at you to pull away, to maintain the carefully constructed image you had built for yourself. But the pull of his presence was too strong, the allure of stepping outside the boundaries you had set for yourself too enticing.

"I..." you began, your voice faltering as you tried to form a coherent response. Rafe's eyes never left yours, his gaze unwavering and intense.

Rafe chuckled, his smirk widening as he leaned in closer, his gaze never leaving yours. "That's what I thought," he repeated, his voice low and teasing. He took another casual sip of his beer, the corner of his mouth quirking up as if he found your defiance amusing. Despite the heat rising to your cheeks, you refused to back down.

"Yeah, well, you aren't so innocent either, Rafe," you retorted, folding your arms defensively. You held his gaze, your brows furrowed in determination. "I saw what you were doing earlier with your friends."

Rafe's amusement only grew at your accusation. He cocked his head slightly, his eyes flickering with mischief. "And what about it?" he countered, taking another deliberate step closer, his presence almost overwhelming. "Do you think that's anything new?"

You hesitated, feeling a pang of embarrassment at his nonchalant response. "I… I don't know, you tell me," you admitted reluctantly, your voice softer now. The tension between you was intensified, each word and gesture charged with a strange, electric energy. Rafe's gaze bore into you, assessing, as if daring you to challenge him further.

"You must not know me that well either, Princeton," he remarked, his tone playful yet tinged with something deeper.

You felt a pang of vulnerability as Rafe's amusement at your embarrassment sank in, making you feel smaller than ever. Frustration and annoyance simmered within you, aggravated by his clear enjoyment of the upper hand. With furrowed brows, you frowned up at him, grappling with how to counter his taunt. His chuckle, mocking yet oddly enticing, echoed in the tense space between you.

"What's wrong, baby?" His voice was laced with a teasing edge. "Nobody ever proved you wrong before?"

You scoffed, rolling your eyes at his cockiness, the warmth from the bonfire casting flickering shadows across his face. "This is ridiculous," you protested, your words slightly slurred from the drinks swirling in your system. "I'm leaving." With unsteady steps, you turned to walk away, but his hand caught you, stopping you in your tracks. His grip on your wrist was firm yet oddly gentle, the touch sending a jolt through you.

"Wait," he said, his voice cutting through the noise of the party, his gaze locking onto yours.

Your heart raced as you turned back to face him, frustration evident in your expression. "What now, Rafe?" you snapped, trying unsuccessfully to free your hand from his grasp.

He held on, his eyes narrowing slightly as he regarded you with a mix of amusement and something else you couldn't quite place. "You can't just walk away like that," he stated firmly, the seriousness in his tone contrasting with the playful smirk that usually adorned his lips.

"Why not?" you challenged, meeting his intense gaze defiantly despite the butterflies fluttering wildly in your stomach.

Rafe's smirk softened, replaced by a more contemplative look. "Because," he began, his voice quieter now, "I don't want you to."

Confusion mingled with curiosity as you searched his eyes for any hint of deception. "Why?" you asked, your voice softer now, uncertain of where this conversation was headed.

Rafe's gaze held yours, his expression unreadable for a moment before a flicker of something vulnerable crossed his features. "Because," he began slowly, his voice tinged with an unexpected earnestness, "you're not so bad to talk to."

His words caught you off guard, the sincerity in his voice stirring a mix of emotions within you—surprise, uncertainty, and a hint of reluctant admiration. The usual facade of cockiness and charm seemed momentarily set aside, replaced by a genuine attempt to connect.

"I..." you started, searching for words as his gaze held yours steadily. His vulnerability felt almost disarming, a stark contrast to the confident persona he usually projected. You found yourself drawn in by the sincerity in his eyes, wondering what lay beneath his charismatic exterior.

Rafe's lips quirked in a faint, almost self-deprecating smile. "I don't know why," he continued, his tone quieter now, "you just seem so… innocent." His gaze softened as he studied your reaction, as if searching for something deeper in your response.

You blinked, surprised by the unexpected vulnerability in Rafe's words. His usual charm and playfulness were nowhere to be found, replaced by a raw honesty that tugged at something inside you. His admission left you feeling exposed, as if he had seen a part of you that you kept carefully hidden from the world.

"I'm not innocent," you protested softly, your voice barely above a whisper. But even as the words left your lips, you couldn't help but wonder if there was some truth to his perception of you. Maybe there was a side of you that longed for the simplicity and purity of innocence, untouched by the complexities of the world.

Rafe's gaze lingered on you, his eyes searching yours for a reaction. There was a flicker of something unreadable in his expression before he spoke again, his voice low and almost hesitant.

"I didn't mean it as an insult," he said, his tone earnest. "It's... refreshing, in a way. To see someone who still believes in the goodness of the world, despite everything." He shifted slightly, his eyes never leaving yours. "I envy that innocence," he confessed quietly, a vulnerability shining through that you had never seen before.

A rush of empathy washed over you as you listened to him speak, realizing that perhaps Rafe's carefully crafted facade was not as impenetrable as it seemed. It was a moment of unexpected intimacy between the two of you, a shared understanding that transcended words.

"I think there's more to you than meets the eye too, Rafe," you said softly, surprised by your own admission. It was a risky gamble, laying bare your thoughts and feelings in such a way, but somehow it felt right in that moment, as if honesty was the only currency that mattered between you and Rafe. He seemed taken aback by your words, a hint of vulnerability flashing across his features before his usual mask slipped back into place.

"You're perceptive," he murmured, his voice tinged with something you couldn't quite place.

A small smile played on your lips as you watched the subtle shift in Rafe's demeanor, a crack forming in the armor he usually wore so effortlessly. It was a rare sight to witness him letting down his guard, and you found yourself inexplicably drawn to this glimpse of the real Rafe hidden beneath the facade.

Suddenly, a distant sound broke the spell that had enveloped the two of you, causing Rafe to straighten up and glance around warily. The moment had passed, but its impact lingered in the air like a promise of things yet to come.

"We should go," Rafe said abruptly, his voice brisk as he turned away from you.

You followed Rafe through the bustling crowd, your thoughts a whirlwind of the unexpected conversation. As you neared the bonfire, the familiar sound of Sarah’s laughter reached your ears. She spotted you and waved, making her way over with an excited grin.

“There you are!” Sarah exclaimed, her eyes twinkling with curiosity. “Where have you been? I was starting to think you’d ditched me for someone more interesting.”

You forced a smile, trying to brush off the intensity of your recent interaction with Rafe. “Oh, just wandering around,” you replied nonchalantly. “Actually, I’m feeling a bit tired. Do you mind if we head out?”

Sarah’s smile faltered for a moment, replaced by a look of concern. “Are you okay? You look a little out of it.”

“I’m fine,” you assured her, your voice steady. “Just had a bit too much excitement for one night.”

Sarah studied you for a moment before nodding. “Alright, let’s go. I’ll get Topper to drive us.” She glanced around, spotting her boyfriend nearby and motioning for him to join you.

As you waited for Topper, you stole a glance back at the bonfire. Rafe was still there, his figure illuminated by the flickering flames. For a brief second, his eyes met yours across the distance, and a silent understanding passed between you. There was more to uncover, more to understand about each other, but tonight wasn’t the night for it.

Topper pulled up in his car, and you climbed into the backseat with Sarah, who gave you a reassuring smile. “You’ll have to tell me all about it tomorrow,” she said, squeezing your hand. “But for now, let’s get you home.

── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

taglist: @yawnzshit, @saintchxx4, @hotch-meeeeeuppppp, @maybankslover

[hearteyes-for-killmonger]

Double Jeopardy

Story Plot: You are Serenity, an identical twin. Your sister, Trinity, has a man at home named Erik Stevens, but he's in the way of her date with Cabo. She enlists you to keep him on ice until she gets back.

*Trinity is back (angst). And Erik KNOWS. Part 6.

Written for @nahimjustfeelingit-writes

ERIK.

Erik was finding it. The will to move maturely like a man in his 30s, despite the devil on his shoulder. It took him a while to really think things through the last time. He could black on the twins if he chose to, but Serenity was never his problem, and Trinity was already broken when he found her. What would it actually solve? Having sat stirring downstairs alone in front of the television for over two hours, he came to a final decision.

"Aye... come down real quick. We need to talk," he said, hanging up abruptly. Serenity was down within a few minutes, stretching from having just woken up. She'd been in for the night.

"Hm?" She hung near the stairs, tired but ready to run again. He patted the couch cushion next to him.

"I'm not gone touch you, just sit down."

Hesitantly, she drew nearer, sliding in beside him. He gave her a second to relax her nerves while he got his thoughts together.

"Are... we good," she asked, her head slowly ticking his way.

He let the silence breathe before breaching the subject. "I need you... to tell me the truth now. About everything. No more lying. Just come clean."

"What do you mean?"

"Don't...," she sighed. "Don't do that."

Serenity stared at him like he hadn't the slightest idea of what he was referring to.

SERENITY.

Did he know? How could he? When could he? He couldn't. Could he?

You stare at him hard, trying to figure that out. He knows something.

"If I have to say it first... then I'm a be pissed again. If you say it first, I'll give you the chance to explain your side." He waits, growing increasingly impatient with each passing second, but remaining silent. The second he smirks in frustration and opens his mouth to speak, you stop him.

"You ever have that one person you'd do anything for? You'd live and die for them because you know they'd do the same."

He looks at you but doesn't answer. You don't think he's experienced it, but he can still feel what you're saying.

"The way we grew up," you swallow. "We were always tight. It's the thing with being a twin. No one really understands unless they're a twin."

"I get it," he says softly. You sigh, having the realization that he's known.

"How long have you known," you gesture between the two of you, truly curious. "I didn't think it would go this far. No one ever figures it out."

"Well, you two are very different. For one, Trinity doesn't run from me. You've been in flight since you got here."

"Well, you're very forward. I had to keep my distance," you defend.

"Trinity is a slob, you were too neat, and you did what I told you to do."

You didn't do that much. "Fair," you still nod.

"Trinity is an emotional wreck who can't be serious to save her own life. She runs from difficult conversations, and she'd never EVER spend her own money to buy me sushi and smoothies."

"Easy on my sister," you warn. "That's still my sister."

"Then there's the physical differences. Your nails are different. You smell different. Trinity had a little cut on her finger that you didn't have."

"You notice a whole lot about Trinity. You must really like her."

"I did," he admits. "She’s fukced up, broken, and fukcin everywhere, but she has a way of getting under your skin. Before you know it, you're along for the ride, waking up to hear what ridiculous thing she'll say next."

Trinity is always the comedian, making light of dark situations. She can definitely get under your skin and make you like her even if you hate her. She's that type of person, sour, then sweet. You find yourself smiling at the thought. You can see now how she pulled Erik so easily. He seems the type to need more laughter in his life.

"I never expected the relationship to be permanent," he further admits, "but I think I was still hoping I could change her."

"You can't change her," you blurt, thinking of your own relationship with Trin. You've often hoped the same, but you've come to realize that "All you can do is love her and hope that she'll learn to love herself as much as you do."

Turning fully to Erik, you can see through him. He's full of anger because he's been lied to and betrayed, but there's still some love there. After all, he's been extremely patient with your sister through some difficult things. More patient than anyone other than you has ever been.

"I think it's time for you to know some important things about Trinity... and since she can't find it in herself to tell you, I will."

Louisiana State

You and Trinity come stumbling into the shared dorm from another drunken night out with friends. She's crawling into your bed with you because hers is covered with piles of clothes. In the morning, she refuses to get up, so you have to attend her early class in her place as well as your own in the afternoon. It's the least you can do after she went to class for you the week you were getting over a bad breakup.

You get a call from her in the evening to hang out with some men she met who want sex with twins. "They got money, Ren. We could scam em and graduate with no loan debt," she pleads, but you can't keep up with the fastness of her extra-curricular activities.

"That was a one-time deal. I ain't finna be whoring all over town for some duckets. You on your own."

"Suit yourself."

Taking on the challenge alone, Trinity came back to the room an entire worrying week later with glowing skin, new clothes, and a check to cover her next semester.

"Where have you been," you shake her so hard you rattle her bottom lip.

"In Cali," she shrugs like it's nothing. "Getting money." She flashes her check proudly, a saucy look on her face. "Could've been you too, now I'm not sharing."

Days pass and against your better knowledge, from time to time you find yourself second thinking your decision, weighing your exhaustion against her exuberance to the point that you skip class to go with her the very next time and learn "the game." A code of conduct and a way of sheisty moving.

"Today, you are Trinity Jr," she dubs you, keeping tabs on you even from across the expansive room of the high-level business event. Typically, you'd be bumping elbows for employment, but today, Trinity wants you to flirt with the trust funded nepo babies. Some college girl, coming onto 40-something year old men.

Never present with baggage, you tell yourself looking for the invisible brands--Brunello, Loro, Akris. Always be the prize. Keep a wig and an outfit that shows off one asset, not all of them at once. Always play men against each other. Always smile. Don't respond until they buy you something. Trinity was all about finessing, and she taught you how to play on a man's insecurities to make him desire you.

"And don't have sex for less than a car or a roof," she said, and she was right. You had the time of your life that day for free. But it was time to return to school. You had papers to write, and so did she, but she simply didn't, and her drinking became a problem... She continued to disappear, coming back drunk, refusing to answer questions. Being rude to your mutual friends... and due to her failure to complete assignments, she was dropped from the academic program. The family was extremely disappointed and made it known, but Trinity sidestepped their wrath by moving in with a guy she said she'd met in Houston. They'd been dating, and she didn't tell you. He wasn't much older than the two of you, and he was already fairly successful with a good salary and his own house. His name was Tyrell, but Trin called him Ty.

The most you'd ever seen was pictures. He was a fine, tall, cocoa man, something like a Kofi Siriboe meets Idris Elba. Unfortunately, along with blocking out your parents, Trin had also blocked you out. You hadn't seen her since she was dropped from the program and not for lack of trying. You'd called and left messages. She didn't wanna talk.

Time passes. You're still friends with the people you met at Louisiana State. You're excited to graduate with one semester left. You're checking out job opportunities and paid internships. You still haven't met Ty. He doesn't know you exist. He hasn't met the family, and it's been a while since you've seen your one and only sister. You're not used to being away from her for this long. You miss being mischievous and switching places. No matter how your life goes up, concern for your sister pulls you back down.

"Hey Ren, I'm kinda busy right now, unfortunately. Can I call you back," Trinity groans when you call her up out of the blue. She doesn't even hang up all the way before lighting into Ty. You recognize his voice in the background, and they both sound angry. You decide to be nosey, and immediately, you're worried about how they speak to each other.

They're calling each other everything but a child of God. He's complaining about her spending, and she's calling him a broke bastard. She ends the call suddenly, realizing she hadn't before, you guess. When you call her back an hour later, she's somber. You can tell she's started her drinking.

"It's cool, don't even trip. That's what my side nigga for anyway," she fusses, seemingly alone. "I'm a stay with him a few days."

"You sure? Crash with me," you tell her. It's just the same dorm room, and you'd have to sneak her, but it's something.

"Mm, nah, I'm a stay with Jermaine. He got a room for me with all of what I like."

"Okay... Well, you know the deal. I'm here."

"I know, Ren. I'm okay, really."

You let it go, but check in routinely, seeing Trinity update her social media with consistent wardrobe expansions, always looking like a celebrity or video vixen. Every time you check in, she tells you things are good... Until you hear Ty in the background again, calling her out of her name. This time, she does hang up, and you're concerned.

As the older twin (by a minute), you think a lot about Trinity. Her well-being... her relationships. One thing that remains consistent is her ability to choose the prettiest man with the ugliest streak. You've seen it having gone out with her countless times, and though you never met Ty, you've seen Ty. Physically he's your type, but you can tell he ain't right, and from the bits and pieces of eavesdropping on the phone, you're piecing together that there's a real probability he's been kicking her ass left and right. You've been tracking his pages, too, and developing a timeline of events from things you hear and see. You've been googling him and looking at his LinkedIn, anything you could find. Ever since he lost his salaried position and had to take a lower pay, it seems like he's been talking it out on your sister.

"You need to come back home and leave them men alone," you say bluntly the next time Trinity returns your call. "Aht. You can't deny what I know I heard, so stop lying. Come on. You know I'll go to bat! Tag me in! I'll swing by quick, no questions, and pack your things."

"I'm not coming back there. Just help me move my things to my side's place."

"Text me the address."

"Can you come when he's out?"

"Of course."

You get on the road, but you're getting tired of your twin weathering violent men just to secure a bag. They're sweet for a while, but they change and start testing the waters. You blame the alcohol for Trin's increasingly bad judgement. Trinity lives a fast life and refuses to work a normal job. She'd rather die.

From New Orleans to St. Francisville, you travel nearly two hours one way to meet Trinity at Ty's house, the goal being to help her organize and move her belongings out quickly. It's no surprise to see collections of empty liquor bottles scattered amongst food containers and clothes. Through talking to Trin, you learn that both she and Ty are heavy drinkers to the point of becoming verbally and physically violent. Ty just happens to do coke in addition. You keep your judgment to yourself for the time being in order to snatch up all Trinity's belongings as quickly as you can.

"Where you at, woman?" A voice from the front door barks out. You almost freeze, but keep working as Trinity yells back.

"I thought you were hanging with your boy. What do you want?"

"Who's car is that outside? You moving with niggas behind my back?"

Trinity looks at you and rolls her eyes. "Who got energy to cheat. You drain me enough! What you bring me to eat?"

"Ain't nobody bring yo fat ass shit. Who you got in my house?" You can hear him searching downstairs. You quietly speed up your messy packing of all the designer clothes, shoes, and wigs, uncaring of what gets wrinkled or tangled.

"You got two hands and a car! You ain't doing nothing!"

"What you say to me?!"

"If you'd stop scratching your dirty ass sack long enough for your brain to work, you'd hear better."

Trin, you sigh. She's egging him on. More yelling about how she won't stop spending and she won't leave the clubs. He's sounding more and more insecure, and Trinity's mouth isn't helping.

"You don't make enough for me to deal with short-tempered and forgetful. That's exactly why I'm leaving yo ass!" There's a rumble and some banging. You hear running on the steps and falling as though they're really fighting, then Trinity screams.

Leaving the fully packed suitcase and bags you run, catching the abuse with your own eyes for the first time.

"Get my stuff, Ren," Trinity yells, as if that's what's most important right now. She's bleeding from her lip. Ty has a bloody nose himself. His confusion in seeing you at the stop of the stairs gives Trin an opening, and she tases him. "Yeah, you shocked? Ren, get my stuff!"

You drag the bags to the top of the stairs, but it comes at a cost. There's another scuffle, and Ty's got Trin down, her long curly hair wrapped around his swollen fist.

"GET OFF OF HER," you shout, running down. You pull at Ty, getting flung back against the steps with his King Kong strength as he resumes punching Trinity like she's a man. Running back up past the bags, you find a full can of Lysol and launch an attack, smashing it over Ty's head hard enough to knock him back. He comes at you in his rage. That's when you draw your daddy's handgun on him.

"Ty, don't make me do it." The gun shakes in your hand. You've never shot it before. You keep your eye on him as you take the phone from your pocket and hit the emergency button. "Don't call the police," Trinity pleads weakly, still wanting to handle things on her own, but she can barely lift her head. "Enough is enough. I'm stopping this now and taking you back home to mom and dad."

"911, what is your emergency?"

"She was pissed at first, but she understood," you tell Erik, who's been listening the entire time. "She kicked the alcohol. She's been sober for the most part ever since. However, she's always had this same habit of finding men. She told me she just wants someone to really love her for her. Not for her body, not for being a twin. She wants an honest to God connection and mutual respect, but she's never found it. We even talked about you... She loves you, but she's scared to. She's scared of the peace. All she knows is chaos."

"Tell me about it," Erik mutters. "Sometimes I think she's finally opening up, then she shuts right back down."

"Give her time. Out of all the men she could've dealt with, I'm glad she picked you. That's growth in itself."

"Maybe... What about this Gio? You think she tied to him?"

"How you know about Gio?!" There's no logical way for him to have figured that much out unless he's a psychic. He takes out his phone and hands it to you on an open gallery to flip through. There's pictures of you as Trinity, pictures of random things like a receipt, and then there's handwritten notes. Your handwriting. Your draw drops as you recognize pages from your journal. He knows way more than you initially thought. He knows too much, even about you.

"How long have-"

"Since the beginning almost? Second day? At first, I wanted to let you suffer. I fully intended to use you to hurt her, but that didn't end up working out."

"You tried to use me to hurt Trinity?" You're disappointed, but not exactly surprised.

"I would've succeeded if you didn't keep turning me down. Every time you said no, it made me wanna try harder, but there's only so far a nigga can go before it's past petty and into fukc nigga territory. I'm too old for that shit."

"We all are..."

"You judging me now," he smirks, catching your subtle side-eye, "I'm being honest. Since this is honesty hour, you should know I would've fukced you, but it would've only been to get back at Trinity. Even now, I see you in front of me, and the two of you are so different that my attraction to you is different. I'm not drawn to you in the same way."

"Okay?" You side-eye him, openly offended. "I really didn't ask."

"But you're attracted to me. I wanted to make that clear to be fair to you."

"Mm," you hum, feeling suddenly awkward. "Okay. Well."

"Okay," he stares forward, no malice or intention in his eyes. You get up and wonder if you should go home... "Goodnight," he whispers, answering that for you.

"Goodnight."

Slowly, you make your way back upstairs and return to sleep, knowing you no longer have to fight him. The week is over. Trinity returns tomorrow. You'll go home, and in a couple of days, you'll go back to work.

When you wake up, you check Erik's room in curiosity. He's still in bed, sleeping in. You leave him alone, and you take the few things you brought over along with the Benz back to your place to sleep off and on until it's time to get Trinity from the airport at 5.

TRINITY.

On the long and cramped flight from Cabo, Trinity was left alone to spiral into madness as she breathed the recycled air of those pressed around her. A baby was crying and the in-flight entertainment system was malfunctioning. She wanted to do terrible things, but she managed to control herself and sit in silence.

Once at the site of her connection, she was able to see Serenity's messages. She was still popular with their old college friends. Mom and Dad had called her. And she'd texted and called herself to reach Trinity. Trinity didn't have all of that. The attention she received was from men she didn't care about in the form of dick pics and sexual advances. It wasn't fair, but at the same time, Trinity knew it was her own fault. She was volatile, insecure, and terrible at relationship maintenance. At least she was aware.

Listening to the voice message from Ren, her heart sunk immediately upon hearing that they needed to talk. The worst had occurred in Trinity's mind. She didn't want to think about Ren and Erik bumping uglies. It was driving her insane. She dissociated on the flight back home where she saw Ren for the first time in a week.

Trinity was still excited to see her sister. She hugged her before taking the wheel, but the intrusive thoughts were still there.

"What did you wanna tell me about on the voicemail," she asked, switching the phones back.

"Huh? Oh! Bitch. You wouldn't believe what I did."

"What you do?"

"I had sex with-" Please don't say it, Trinity pleaded. "-the guy from the gym."

"Jarrell?!"

"His name is Kelce. I just walked up to him and took control, ended up at his place. We went from room to room."

"Forreal?" Trinity perked up, relieved.

"Yeah... Too bad he's married with a kid."

"Yikes," Trinity grimaced, flicking off someone in her rearview. "Was the dick nice?"

"Only you," Serenity laughed.

"What? Inquiring minds." Trinity wanted details.

"Hell yea, it was good, but I can't keep doing that."

"I would," Trinity stated boldly. If she wanted it, she took it. They both already knew that. They talked about Kelce and Cabo all the way to Serenity's apartment, where they sat in the car a little longer to chat. "So... You were able to meet Erik. What do you think of him?"

"I'm glad you bring that up. He's an amazing guy, Trin. You did your big one finding him. He's smart, cute, funny, sexy, all of the boxes. He also knows... about us," Ren said cautiously.

Kill Bill sirens sounded in Trinity's head. "He what?" Maybe she didn't hear correctly.

"He knows about us... He knows everything."

"Everything..." Trinity stared at her sister, trying to remember she was her sister. "Everything?"

"Everything," Ren solidified. Trinity was gutted. She couldn't even tell him the surface shit and in one week, one menial week, Ren had told him EVERYTHING.

"What did you tell him?"

"Um," Ren hesitated, going silent.

"Ren? How much did you TELL him?" Trinity gritted her teeth in fury. Now Ren was careful to speak? "Did you tell him about Gio?"

"Not on purpose."

"Get the fukc... You told him?!"

"It's not that simple. He read my journal, it was in there."

"You just happened to leave it out..." Serenity had to be playing in her face, Trinity thought. "You really went and told this man my business the first chance you got. Did you feel bad for him? Poor Erik getting run over by my evil sister," Trinity mocked.

"He figured it out, Trinity. Even before he read my journal, he knew I wasn't you. He could tell. Remember you said you wanted a man to love you for you? This is it. Here is a man who distinguishes you by his love for you."

"I already know that," Trinity admitted to herself and aloud for the first time. "But why would you tell him those things about ME? Did you tell him about Ty?"

Her silence was an affirmation. Trinity wanted to cry.

"Get out my car."

"Trinity, you're not letting me explain the situation. We had to tell him."

"GET OUT OF MY CAR!" She couldn't hold it in or stay calm any longer. She was pissed, irritated, betrayed, embarrassed, all of it. She'd have never told him that. She didn't want him to know that side of her. She didn't wanna be broken. She felt it already, all the fukcing time. She slammed her palm on the wheel. "GET THE FUKC OUTTA MY CAR!!!"

"But that's not even the point. I'm trying to tell you he figured us out himself."

"NO ONE EVER FIGURES IT OUT!" Trinity was in tears. She didn't feel them coming, but they were there. Serenity's big mouth.

"He did..."

Why would Serenity do this? She knew how she'd feel and did it anyway. It dawned on Trinity just then that she never had a chance. Serenity and Erik were a better match, and Serenity must've known that and made her move with the journal. She was a bitch!

"The one good man I pull! Of course you would jump on it," she smiled bitterly through the tears. "Perfect Serenity! Ready to profit off my work and my mistakes to make a come up! I knew it. I knew this would happen. Typical."

"Excuse you?" She blinked.

"Every time I shit, here you come, ready to suck up all the shit I dropped! Well, congratulations," she clapped, "You win! You're the favorite and eeevery one loves you."

"What the maple toasted fukc are you talking about?"

"Spare me. Ever since we were little, you were the favorite, and I was the fukc up! You thrive on it! It's our entire dynamic!"

"Oh, baby, you swallowed too much ocean water with your semen."

"Right. Well, I knew you were a hard up and desperate bitch trailing behind me to pick up anything I dropped. That's what you do. You wait for me to drop the ball, then you come by and -woosh- layup. You saw your chance with Erik, and you took it. So, like I said, typical!"

SERENITY.

"Oh, be so for real with yourself!" Never before has Trin spit this utter bullshit that's been building on her conscience, and you're stunned to hear it. You've been trying to understand, refusing to believe she's serious, but she is dead serious. "You ruin every relationship you have. Don't turn around and blame it on me," you glare. "Yuka and Liv? You stopped talking to them, not vice versa. Mom and Dad, you ruined that. You! With your dumbass choices. If you're a fukcup, that's no one's fault but yours."

"Go to hell."

"And as for Erik? You fukced that up by leaving. That was you who called me to keep your nigga on ice and that's what the fukc I did. That's ALL I did." You stop yourself, hearing how you sound. You don't think badly of her. You don't think she's a fukc-up, but you're not gonna let her lie and beat on you either. You're not one of her whipped clients. You're really the one if she pushes you. "Where is this coming from all of a sudden!? We've switched places on your men many times, and you've never acted this way. You don't trust my judgment all of a sudden with how far to take shit? Well, why the fukc you come to me then?! Huh?" You smack the dashboard.

"Not to betray me and wreck my relationship. That's for sure, bitch."

"Oh my GOD," you shout reaching your own limit. Your intention was to vet him, not to take him. You were extremely careful! "You're bugging! Talk about over dick? You're flipping on me for a man. A man!... Really? After all I've done for you?"

"What have you done for me?! Everything you do is always so you can prove how amazing you are and how shit I am, and now I finally had something worth taking... Just get out," she waves.

"For a man, Trin? Over a man?"

"You know damn well it's more than a man. I'm not going through this with you again, acting like you're dense and don't get shit."

"Trin," you sigh, genuinely hurt, offended, and now mad as all hell. "You're such a brat. If you weren't a total bitch running off on him in the first place, we wouldn't be having this conversation."

"I'm the mean scary bitch and you the hero, right? Did you cum from it? Did you win a million dollars? What about that cookie you ordered. Did you get it?"

"Bitch!... I could've had your man seven ways to Sunday! Literally! I purposely didn't do that shit for you." You get out and slam the door.

"Tuh. Well, how about this. Y'all can be together and leave me the hell out of it. I really don't care anymore."

You know that's a lie.

"Oh fukc all the way off, Trinity. I hate when you lie. You care, or else you wouldn't be tripping and going off like this."

"No, I actually don't care. I can always find a man who's richer, better looking, and overall better, but you can't... As a matter of fact, I already have one on the sidelines." She flashes a brand new diamond bracelet. It must be from Gio, you assume. "And no, not Gio. I met another man in Cabo. So enjoy my sloppy seconds."

You stare at her at a loss for words. It's wild that you were loyal for a week of temptation knowing Trinity would've NEVER had the same resolve herself, and the second she's back, she turns on YOU AND ERIK and dips.

"Fine," you stand in the distance, watching her zoom off.

What the hell just happened?

You go up to your apartment, still shaken by the exchange and furious. How dare she even accuse you something like that, let alone believe it? Does she know how much temptation you ducked all week in the name of loyalty? Does she care?

You give it the weekend and return to work on Monday feeling irritated and mentally exhausted as ever. As Wednesday hits, you're also pissed because Trinity hasn't come through with your money. Being mad at you was one thing. Messing with your money was another, and you weren't one to be as patient or nice about that. You've been calling her about it since Monday. Friday, you're done.

"She want a villain, I'll give her a villain," you mutter on the way to Erik's after work. You knock knowing you've come at a time when Erik's home too. He looks surprised to see you, then realization relaxes him.

"Serenity."

Who else would it be? "I need to speak to Trinity. I don't care if she don't wanna talk. She owes me money."

"Trinity ain't been here. Not since she went to Cabo."

"What?" You look around, but there's no Benz. "Did she call you?"

"Nope."

Growling with anger, you explode into stomps and kicks. This didn't make sense and was truly irking you to the deepest of your core.

"Tell me about it," he remarks, the look on his face saying he feels a similar way.

"She's so damn frustrating!"

"Come in," he steps back, waving you into the house.

[shiny-crocodile]

the best person i've ever met

lucy bronze x ona batlle

Summary

lucy and ona origin story; semi-slow burn, semi-quick; multi chapters that will get a little smutty

chapter 1, chapter 2, chapter 3, chapter 4, chapter 5, chapter 6, chapter 7, chapter 8

CHAPTER 9

chapter summary: finals and thighs

chapter notes: tough day for the lucy girls and the luna girls, hopefully this helps just a little x

smut

As Lucy landed back in Barcelona her eyes were sore, already missing her little nurse.

Goodbyes were always impossibly difficult, especially when you go from spending 24 hours a day with a person to nothing.

It was going to be 3 long weeks until they could see each other again, with Lucy needing to fully focus on getting fit for the champions league final, while Ona had an FA Cup final of her own to prepare for.

The distance was gruelling. Lucy was kept relatively distracted by her rehab but Ona was finding it incredibly hard to be away from her girlfriend while she was injured, wanting to constantly check in but also wanting to be that escape for Lucy, for their evening calls to be a chance to take the older girl’s mind off the pretty horrible day she probably just had. So the Spaniard had to find other methods of checking on her.

“Pleeeeease tell your girlfriend to stop messaging me for updates on your knee,” Jana said from her own physio bed.

“Girlfriend? What?” Mariona asked while getting herself strapped up for training.

Lucy rolled her eyes at Jana who faked an apologetic gasp.

“Ona,” the right back said, a slight smile creeping across her face, she loved being able to tell people.

“BATLLE?” Mariona asked, in disbelief that someone else knew before she did.

“That’s the one,” Lucy confirmed proudly.

“What the hell Lucy?” Mariona said, throwing a box of bandages at her supposed friend’s head. “Who knows?”

“Umm,” Lucy stuttered, scared of what would be thrown next, “most people.”

A bottle of antiseptic flew across the room, earning Mariona stern looks from the medical staff present.

Lucy hadn’t been hiding it after her and Ona agreed to tell people, but she’d brought it up in a natural way to the majority of the team rather than some big announcement, Mariona just clearly hadn’t happened to be there any of those times.

“I’m hurt,” Mariona said, half joking half serious as she strutted towards the exit for training.

Barcelona’s number 9 stopped at the door, turning, “but I’m very happy for you and you will make it up to me by driving me home after training and telling me everything.”

“But I’m injured-“ Lucy called after her but she was long gone.

“Aaaaanyway,” Jana continued, pretending the reveal hadn’t happened, “can you please just update her so I don’t have to.”

Lucy sighed, “fine.” She was huffing at Jana but it melted her heart how Ona could care for her from thousands of miles away.

Lucy - hey bonita, I’m getting grief for you asking about me

Lucy - I’m doing good, knee feels better and they’re all impressed with how quick the swelling has gone down and that I’m nearly ready to walk without crutches

Lucy - so shoutout to my nurse, who I miss and love very much xx

Ona - bet i can guess which of my private investigators failed me

Ona - but glad to hear it cariño, very proud of you

Ona - miss and love you very much too xx

///

The next two weeks were harder than the first one for Lucy’s recovery regime, feeling she was racing against time to be ready.

The medical staff were insane, she was insane.

Obviously the recovery race against Frido only spurred her on, and somehow it was actually looking like they would both be back for the final, Lucy’s 4th champions league final.

“I got medical clearance!” Lucy said as soon as Ona answered the phone, 3 days before the final.

“Oh my god!” Ona said through a mouth full of pizza. “That’s amazing Luce.”

“Oh sorry are you eating?”

Ona stood up from the table to walk out into the street, “just out for dinner but don’t worry, finishing up.”

The Spaniard was in Sardinia with some Man U teammates, celebrating the season while Lucy’s was nearing its end.

“So you’re feeling good?” Ona asked, leaning against a wall in the seaside town.

“Yeah really good. I mean I would’ve liked to be a bit fitter but I’m good,” Lucy herself was laying on the sofa, fiddling with the chord of her hoodie.

“You’re fit enough,” Ona joked, drawing a laugh out of her girlfriend, “I miss that laugh.”

“I miss those bad jokes,” Lucy said, “I’ll let you get back to dinner, can’t wait to see you.”

Ona leaned her head back on the wall, she really did miss the girl a ridiculous amount.

“Thank you for calling, I’m so proud of you, you’re a superstar.”

“Love you,” Lucy said, Ona’s words making her feel proud of herself too.

“Love you too, bye cariño.”

“Bye bonita.”

Ona took an extra minute for a breather after putting her phone back in her pocket. She really was proud of Lucy, but also an overwhelming feeling of relief after fearing the state the English girl would be in if she wasn’t ready in time.

It had been an exhausting few weeks, made worse by not being by her side through it, but it would all be worth it in just 3 days when she’d be able to watch her girlfriend in a Champions League final!

///

“What do you mean the flight is cancelled?”

“Exactly that ma’am.”

Ona was raging. Her flight to Eindhoven from Sardinia had already been delayed by 2 hours and now the passengers had been rounded up to be told their flight wasn’t going to happen at all.

“So what? Are you going to just leave us stranded here then?”

“An additional flight will be put on tomorrow to take you to your destination,” the flight attendant said, everything infuriatingly rehearsed and unhelpful for Ona.

“Fantastic,” the Spaniard said as she spun around, marching over to a free chair where she flung her bag, fingers on her temples as she tried to think of a solution.

The game was due to kick off in 4 hours. She was already cutting it fine because of the delay and now she was stuck in Sardinia, alone.

The Spaniard couldn’t stop tears flowing from her eyes, overcome with anger and disappointment.

She got her phone out to message Lucy, not wanting to disturb her but also not wanting her to worry over not seeing her in the crowd.

Ona - flight has been cancelled. Stuck here for the night. I’m so sorry.

Before she could even lock it, her phone instantly rang.

“Hi.”

“You ok?” Lucy asked immediately, sensing the stress in Ona’s message and short greeting.

“Not really. I can’t believe this is happening. I should have come yesterday, I’m so sorry,” Ona said at a rapid pace while the tears still flowed.

“Hey, hey, breathe,” Lucy said soothingly, somehow instantly calming in the younger girl.

“Sorry, I just want to be there and now I’m stuck,” Ona had barely even looked at other options, she was too stressed and not able to think logically.

But that’s what Lucy was in her life for, searching on her phone, headphones in while on her pre game walk.

“Look, I’ve just found a flight leaving to Barcelona in an hour. Let me book it for you now. We are flying straight back after the game so I’ll see you so soon, ok?”

“Ok, thank you,” Ona said, she wasn’t really ok. She wanted to be at the game and she was angry with the world.

“It’s done,” Lucy said, “go get yourself a drink and I’ll see you soon.”

“You’re unbelievable, thank you,” Ona said, amazed at the English girl’s ability to calm her down and sort her out within minutes, right before one of the biggest games of her life.

“I gotta go Ona, but call me if you need anything, ok?” Lucy said, rushing to keep up with her teammates.

“Lucy you’re about to play a Champions League final. I’ll be fine. Go shine.”

As they said their goodbyes Ona made her way to the bar to drown her sorrows, hoping it would help her see some kind of bright side but at the moment there was none.

///

“Hey Lucia, you know who that is?” Mariona asked, pointing over at the Wolfsburg team as the players took their kick off positions.

“Who?” Lucy asked confused.

“Number 13, that’s Feli Rauch,” Mariona said, raising her eyebrows with a cheeky smile.

Lucy knew exactly who Feli Rauch was, an ex-fling of Ona’s. The two girls had previously reminisced about the Spaniard cheering on a losing Germany in the Euros final, or at least pretending to.

“Oh,” Lucy said, a mischievous look plastering her face as she rubbed her hands together, “this is gonna be more fun than I thought. Now we really gotta win.”

Meanwhile, Ona had managed to find a bar in Barcelona to watch the game, a vast improvement from her phone she thought she’d have to settle for.

She chewed down on her fingernails with the game not going the way they wanted, 2-0 down at half time. But there was an energy shift at the half from the whole team, including Lucy who looked like she was having a bit more fun, especially with a face familiar for Ona.

The English right back was relentless, getting under Feli’s skin at every opportunity, the cheekiest of smiles on her face throughout. She wasn’t the only one enjoying herself, Ona was sat in a bar in Barcelona eating it up.

She knew that Lucy was fully aware of what she was doing, also fully aware that Ona would be watching. It was as if she was putting on a show, even side eyeing the camera as she tackled Feli. She may as well have said “hey Ona, you seeing this?” through the screen.

And wow was she seeing it, having to constantly sip her drink to keep her cheeks from burning up and to try distract her from how hot her girlfriend was and how she wished she was there to witness this in person.

///

Barcelona won the game, as they secretly always knew they would, just wanting to give the fans a heart attack en route.

Once the on pitch celebrations were done and dusted, Lucy finally got her phone back, unlocking it to hundreds of notifications, but she knew which she was going to first.

Ona - 4X Champions League winner!

Ona - wow wow wow!!! Unbelievably proud of you mi amor xx

Lucy didn’t even have to look at any of the other messages, that was the only one she needed. Before ditching her phone to return to the celebrations, she sent Ona the address for the after party to meet at later, but the Spaniard had other ideas.

///

As the girls made their way back through Barcelona airport, slightly drunk from the post game festivities they’d already had, they were swarmed with fans.

It was like they were A list celebrities, being pulled in every which way and direction, phones shoved in their faces.

“Lucy, photo!” a fan shouted, handing Lucy her phone, who turned the camera to take the photo.

The English girl jumped as she saw a familiar face next to hers.

“Ona!” she shouted, spinning around to pull her number one fan into the tightest of hugs, faces buried in each others necks.

They stayed in this position, neither letting go as a couple of tears fell from Lucy’s eyes. The emotion and intensity of the day finally getting to her, combined with the joy of seeing her girlfriend after weeks apart as they muttered loving words into each other’s necks.

“Are you crying?!” a Spanish accent chimed from behind Ona.

“No, shut up Mario,” Lucy said, quickly wiping her face as she pulled away from the hug.

“You totally were,” Mariona mocked, “Sandra, Laia, come look at this!!”

“Oh no, did you run out of protein drink?” Laia chimed in.

“Did someone hide your texting Ona device?” Paños joining the action.

“Leave her alone guys,” Alexia intervened.

Lucy sighed, “thank you.”

“She clearly just lost her streak on duolingo,” Alexia snuck in, earning a high five from her teammates.

Lucy gave the biggest eye roll of all time as she turned around to Ona, who was smiling away, loving what she was seeing. “Did you-“

“Nope, not you!” Lucy said, putting one hand over Ona’s mouth to muffle the rest of her question while wrapping the other arm round her shoulder to guide her out of the airport.

Taxis and coaches were waiting outside to take the players and their friends and families to the after party destination.

The intention was to share the vehicles, but Lucy wasn’t having any of that, shouting “this one’s full!” to Mariona, pulling the door closed behind her and Ona, instructing the driver to leave with a “vamos.”

“Hey,” Lucy said, turning to Ona now that Mariona and co were just specks in the distance of the rear window.

The younger girl pulled the winner in by her medal, kissing her for the first time in 3 weeks.

Lucy moved her hand up Ona’s thigh as she deepened the kiss, reacquainting her tongue with the inside of the Spaniard’s mouth.

“I’ve missed you so so so much,” Lucy said as they pulled away, straightening out their clothes. “Did you watch the game? Not my best was it?” Lucy said, slightly joking in a self deprecating way.

“Don’t even joke,” Ona said, “do you know how crazy it is that you were even playing a Champions League final that soon after surgery? You are amazing.”

Lucy didn’t necessarily agree but she knew it was pointless arguing, so she snapped out of it.

“Met your ex,” she said cheekily, gently running her hands up and down the younger girl’s thigh.

“Oh I saw, that was pretty fucking hot,” the younger girl admitted, gently stroking along Lucy’s jaw line.

The English girl saw the lust in her girlfriend’s eyes and missed her lips already, bringing her in for another kiss.

“You look insane by the way, that tan, I’m jealous,” Lucy said, leaning back to admire Ona’s sunkissed skin before kissing along her exposed collarbone. “Mmm you taste like holidays. Tell me all about it.”

The rest of the ride was filled with Ona giving all the details on her week away, Lucy listening so intently it was as if it was the best part of her day, despite winning the Champions League a few hours ago.

“Ready?” Lucy asked, squeezing the Spaniard’s thigh as they pulled up to the club.

“Let’s do this,” Ona responded, giving Lucy a soft peck before shimmying out of the car.

Despite everyone knowing about their relationship now, this is the first time a lot of people will be witnessing it. Both girls were feeling a little apprehensive but mainly excited at being able to openly be together in front of their friends.

Ona latched on to Lucy’s arm as they entered, before being forced to detach as she was swarmed by cooing friends.

The English girl watched on fondly as her girlfriend was showered in hugs and kisses.

The music was a little too loud and the Spanish a little too fast for her to understand what was being said, before Ona reached a hand out to her to pull her in.

“So we’re going down to a villa an hour from Cadiz for a few days which will be really nice,” Ona said, switching to English for Lucy’s benefit.

The Spaniard really was making the most of not being so secret, her hand tucked up the back of Lucy’s shirt, delicately grazing her fingers over the older girl.

“It’s actually so crazy seeing you two together,” Jana said, noticing the back stroking, “I would have never guessed you when Ona was going on and on and on about this girl.”

“Oh yeah? On and on?” Lucy said, she could have shut it down but she wanted to see a bit of Ona teasing now, she’d had her turn.

Jana, a couple drinks down her now but never one to be discreet, revealed, “yeah wouldn’t stop talking about the best person she’d ever met, and the best sex she’d ever had.”

The rest of the group erupted in laughter while Ona removed all points of contact with Lucy to push and fake strangle her big mouthed friend.

“It’s true,” Jana called out while being attacked.

Ona spun around, saying “I’m getting a drink,” and walking off to the bar.

The English girl stayed where she was for a minute as the conversation moved on before deciding to follow Ona.

“Like a lost puppy without her, Lucia,” Vicky shouted after her, earning a middle finger from Lucy.

///

As the night went on the girlfriends never left each others side, hands all over each other.

This party was a lot wilder than the last, there were shots, lots of them, and dancing on stages, tables, everywhere. Not just any dancing, sexy Spanish dancing.

While the rest of the team mingled and switched partners, Ona’s arse spent most of the evening grinding down on Lucy’s front. The others soon gave up on trying to drag them away from each other to dance, letting them have the private party they clearly wanted.

“Shall we get some fresh air,” Lucy whispered into Ona’s ear, getting a nod in return before linking hands to go out the back of the club.

The older girl walked them over to a more hidden spot, although there was no one outside at all.

Ona stared at Lucy’s lips with a longing that made the inebriated taller girl push the younger one backwards, hands either side of her head to pin her against the wall before attaching their tequila soaked lips.

After cranking up the sexual tension with their dancing, the two girls desperately needed some kind of release.

“Need you,” Ona pleaded, “want your thigh,”prompting Lucy to push her leg up between the younger girl’s legs, resting her foot on a slightly higher ledge on the wall.

The kiss growing messier, the Spaniard started grinding down on Lucy’s thigh, getting exactly what she needed and knowing this wouldn’t take long after how much they’d worked each other up inside.

Ona looked incredible, not playing any football for a week made her treat this like a full body workout as a wet patch formed on Lucy’s leg.

Looking into each other’s eyes, Ona could see that her girlfriend could easily come as well, so she moved her free hand between Lucy’s legs, rubbing at the seem of her jeans as the older girl moaned loudly.

“Shh,” Ona ordered, but Lucy, not one to be told what to do, wasn’t having any of that.

She slipped her hand up Ona’s top, getting a handful of her chest, drawing out an even louder moan from the younger girl.

“Fuuuuuck,” Ona groaned, not able to hold it in any longer as she came apart, fingers rubbing harder against Lucy for a few moments before she joined the younger girl in a state of bliss.

Lucy leant down to whisper into the shorter girl’s ear, “you’re the best sex I’ve ever had too by the way, let’s go back to mine.”

Ona bit down on her lip, she could quite easily come quickly again from Lucy’s words, but instead she was pulled back into the party, Lucy hornier than ever.

“Have fun out there?” Jana teased as the girls said their goodbyes. Everyone noticing Ona’s lipstick smudged all over their faces, some pointing it out like Jana, others polite enough to just smirk.

Lucy and Ona couldn’t care less as they hurried themselves out of the party into the warm Barcelona night.

//

[nerdnag]

the fact that i become extremely low-energy in the afternoons and can barely keep my focus up on work surely doesn't have to do with the fact that I've been getting like 5 hours of sleep every night. nope no way, couldn't be that

[famewolf]

im punching and punching and punching my anxiety today

[thebarkpaladin]

working out puppy logistics and I think it's going to happen

[mpregspn]

hell hell hell hell. and suffering

[threadbaresweater]

Today, I am good at overthinking.

[iliveinprocrasti-nationn]

one thing abt being disabled/chronically ill that some people don’t get is that sometimes body maintenance that ensures you have the absolute minimum amount of function can also be something that takes away a lot of control and autonomy. you can argue till the cows come home that making those decisions to try and help yourself (or realistically to try to make sure things aren’t worse than they already are) is something that exhibits control and autonomy and stuff, but they can be so limiting in practice because they’re things that take up so much time but have to be done to do anything else

[katandsquad]

.

[ravs6709]

Almost had a breakdown in the subway 🩵

[lavender---sunshine]

in all seriousness i 90% sure im going to quit my job tomorrow and for a while i will have just enough money to live on and will have to spruce up my resume and job hunt and stress but MY GOD i need to do something else because this is making me suicidal

[hella1975]

SNORK FUCKING MIMIMI

[steveharrington]

this job is going to ruin all my friendships

[tittyinfinity]

Me: Hey, please don't message/call me multiple times when I'm not responding, I don't have social energy every day and it gives me anxiety when the notifications pile up

Person: ok, this means still call & message you through text and messenger repeatedly, but this time I'll start off my messages with "I'm not trying to invade your space..." "I know you're an introvert but..." "Sorry I'm calling but I know sometimes you need a little push to be social..."

[nerdie-faerie]

I have got to get worse at my job cus no way can keep letting them rely on me like this