#guess I’m going to hell for being too cool
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Diversity among hylians seems to be very low, so I ask you to please headcanons of the chain with a human reader who has vitiligo and maybee heterochromia. Please, please, that's all I need!
Ah, that’s true! Hylians, for all their magic and divine connections, lack a lot of the diversity that humans have. (Even if they have the funkiest hairstyles at times)
I guess at first, they don’t get it.
They’ve certainly never seen anything like it before.
The patches of lighter skin standing out against their natural tone? The two different colored eyes? It’s so far outside of normal Hylian traits that they’re just staring the first time they meet Reader.
Not in a bad way! They’re just so confused but the differences. (They adjust as they always do.)
Wind is the first to ask. (Zero filter after all)
Blunt as always he goes “Did you get cursed?”
(Cue Warriors smacking him upside the head.)
And Reader would laugh, though and reapond. “Nope. It’s just how I was born.”
Sky would be tilting his heads and say “Wait, it’s natural?”
Hyrule is quietly intrigued. (Half fae boy is kinda obsessed.)
He’d be like “So you were just… blessed with two different eye colors? And patterns on your skin?”
And Reader would be like “Blessed?” They’d snort. “I wouldn’t call it that.”
But Hyrule would.
(He probably ends up fully convinced that Readwr is some sort of celestial being that’s just pretending to be human.)
Twilight (when everyone is way more comfortable with each other) actually reaches out to touch your skin. (With permission, of course.)
The difference in texture is interesting to him. It’s not really different from the rest of Reader’s skin, but the contrast is so mesmerizing.
“Does it… change?”
“Sometimes,” They’d shrug. “Spreads a little, but nothing crazy.”
Twilight wouod be so fascinated. His own markings only appeared when he used the Shadow Crystal, so seeing someone with permanent ones they were born with is something else.
Sky thinks they’re literally kissed by the heavens.
No, really.
He genuinely believes that their skin is like clouds drifting across the sky.
He gets so poetic about it, too. “It’s like the sky at dawn… patches of light breaking through the darkness.”
Legend: “You’re making it weird.”
Sky: “I’m appreciating the beauty of nature, shut up.” (Which I personally wouod find funny)
As for heterochromia I thiiiink, Warriors and Legend notice it first.
Warriors, because he’s trained to pick up details.
Legend, because he’s just perceptive as hell. (Not that the others arent but I think everyone is heavily distracted by the vitiligo.)
Legend would go “Wait, were your eyes always different colors?”
“Uh. Yeah?”
Cue them both narrowing their eyes like they’re trying to figure out if Reader’s messing with them.
Wind and Wild immediately love it.
“Whoa! That’s so cool!”
“Can you see differently out of each eye?”
“Do things look different?”
(Reader has to physically stop them from shining a lantern in your face to ‘check.’)
Time kinda thinks it’s an omen.
…Not in a bad way, necessarily, but in the way that his gut tells him you’re important.
Like… by that point Reader was already significant to them, but this just adds to it.
He’s seen plenty of strange things in his time, but a mortal with two different eyes? That’s has to mean something ya know?
Four is intrigued from a more analytical standpoint.
Four: “So, you were born with this?”
Reader: “Yep.”
Four: “It doesn’t affect your vision?”
Reader: “Nope.”
Four: “Fascinating.”
(He will absolutely study their eyes in different lighting, making notes to compare them.)
All in all, they adore it. (And it is inevitable that creeps and weirdos will try to nab such a unique beauty when they go era hopping so it ends up with them being a biiit over protective with Reader. But hey! Stories to tell friends over drinks eh?)
#linked universe#yandere linked universe#linkeduniverse#lu#gliphy answers anon#linked universe x reader
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misc avery thoughts: love how my parents would scream and cry and throw up if they knew about my tattoos . the tattoos in question being a baby deer and an orange
#like ???#they always acted like I was one step away from becoming an alcoholic satanist#and I’m out here like look at my green hair and baby deer :)#I feel like this ties in to never being able to make them happy ever#even if I was a cis het church going girlwomandaughterlady with 8 kids they’d still find some way to make me feel like shit#guess I’m going to hell for being too cool
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cuz you know that’s it’s delicate
joe burrow x fem!reader

summary: what happens when joe’s teammate slips a joke about your size difference and it sends you spiraling? being in love with joe since college has been tough but what happens when he starts figuring it out and trying to unravel you more?
warnings: SMUT, 18+ ONLY, MDNI. heaaaavy size kink, joe being a smartass should be it’s own warning, language, p in v, fingering, oral (f. receiving), roughness. probably more? this one was so much fun, plzzz stick around til the end. 🤭
word count: 3.1k!
note: heyyy everyone! my first joey smut 🤭 i hope y’all love it and again MDNI!! (shoutout to my boo @slimshiesty, hate me later and that stray ball part is rotting in my brain, so i snuck a lil of it in here as an ode to you. ily bbg. 💗) (also another taylor swift title bc i fr couldn’t think of anything else plus i used it a bit.. i swear i’m not trying to steal anyones thing i love all the joey swifties)
tags: @slimshiesty @starsinthesky5 (plz message me or send an ask to be added!) part 2
sexual frustration has to be one of the worst things in the world. sexual frustration at the hands of your best friend, however, takes the cake.
it started at a party two weeks ago when you were invited out by joe, the star nfl quarterback, certified dweeb, and your very best friend all wrapped into one.
flashback
you were sitting around with joe and some of his teammates, listening in on their conversations and people watching the rest of the time. it was easiest for you to hang out with joe and ja’marr since you knew them from college, but the rest of their teammates and their teammates partners were really cool too, and all so welcoming to you.
everyone was laughing and joking, having a laid back time, picking on each other for random things. that was, until, someone mentioned how funny it was to see you standing next to joe, being that he was well over a foot taller than you.
“what? how’s it funny?” joe asked, glancing between you and his teammate. “because you make her look so tiny! like a little doll. get up and stand next to each other.”
you were reluctant to move from your seat, hating where this was leading. it was already hard enough having feelings for your best friend over the span of a few years, but this was crossing dangerous territory. kink territory.
for you, there was something about how much bigger than you joe was. he towered over you. his body was lean but built with thick muscles. he could quite literally pick you up and sling you around like a rag-doll. (and honestly if he did, you’d thank him.)
you hoped his teammate pointing out your size difference wouldn’t be turned into a big deal, but once joe pulled you out of your chair to stand next to him, it was like the gates of hell opened.
you stood side by side, your head barely even reaching his armpit. everyone around the table laughed, including joe. “damn, i guess i never really focused on how little you are, y/n.” joe laughed, and placed his forearm on top of your head like an armrest.
alarms went off in your head. ABORT MISSION. ABORT MISSION.
you cleared your throat quickly, and came to your senses, shoving joe off before getting back into your seat. “maybe i’m not small, maybe you’re just a freakishly large man.” you remark, trying to keep your voice even.
“nah,” he replied, sitting down next to you again, “you’re sooooo tiny.” he laughed, wiggling his eyebrows at you. you flipped him the finger. “fuck you big bird.” you snarked before downing the rest of your drink. god knows you need it. you hoped that your pink cheeks would be chalked up to the alcohol and that nobody else had caught on.
the next instance came a few days later, on a sunday, and it was much worse than the first. so, so much worse.
flashback to sunday
you came to the bengals’ home stadium to watch their game, and since it was early you figured you’d go down to the field to say hi to joe and some of your other friends on the team.
you made it down and waved hi to ja’marr, tee and sam before making your way to joe. he spotted you and smiled, walking in your direction to meet you halfway.
you decided on wearing one of his jerseys and a pair of jeans, something simple and comfortable. as soon as he made it to you, the first thing he did was look you up and down and then pick up the sleeve of the jersey before chuckling.
“damn, this thing is swallowing you!” he comments. you playfully smack at his arm. “shut up, joey.”
“it’s cute, though. you look nice. are you excited for the game?”
you don’t give yourself much time to process that “cute” comment. wtf does that even mean? who cares. ABORT MISSION.
“of course i’m excited! i can’t wait to watch you guys kick some ass today—“
your sentence is cut off abruptly as joe grabs you and lifts you, turning your bodies so his back is now facing the opposite direction on the field. his grip on you is so tight that your chest is pressed into his stomach. you look up at his face, his expression a mix between anger and concern. you can feel your cheeks heat up and your eyes widen in disbelief.
“um, joe, you’re bear hugging the hell out of me right now. wanna put me down and explain what happened?”
he lets you down gently, reaching up to run a hand through his hair. “stray ball was coming right at you. i didn’t want it to hit you, it would’ve hurt you pretty bad.”
you reach a hand up and pat his chest, feeling the thick muscles. “thank you!” you respond, once again monitoring your tone. “i’m gonna head up and talk to everyone, ok?” you ask, already moving to leave. “yeah, ok.” joe says, focusing his attention on the ground. you can tell he’s contemplating something, but you don’t want to ask. you want to get out of there as quickly as possible.
the final instance came a few days later when you went to joe’s house just to hang out and have dinner.
flashback to wednesday night
you park your car in joe’s garage and step out, tucking your phone and keys in your pocket before heading up the stairs. before you make it to the door, joe’s already opening it and waiting in the doorway.
“hi bub!” you call, pushing past him and stepping inside, kicking off your shoes by the door. he greets you back sweetly and the two of you go sit on barstools in the kitchen, just catching up on things that have gone on this week. you rant to joe about your job and he listens intently, offering what advice he can.
he rants back to you about things going on with the team, and frustrations he’s having on the field. you try to return the favor and offer him some advice, but you know you aren’t of too much help. joe appreciates it regardless.
soon after your food arrives, you find yourselves in the living room, sitting on the couch side by side as a movie plays. you and joe always loved just being around each other, you had so deep of a connection that oftentimes words didn’t need to be shared at all.
you both enjoyed those moments.
you felt yourself starting to doze off until joe laughed at something in the movie, the sound waking you a bit.
“oh, sorry. you can go to sleep.” he whispers, pulling you into his side and wrapping his arm around your shoulder. you appreciate his warmth and you rub your head on his shoulder as you get comfy. you hear joe chuckle.
“what’s funny?” you mumble, your eyes still closed. “it’s like i’m hyper-aware now of how small you are next to me. it’s so cute.”
you make no outward moves or sounds, but inside you are screaming. yelling. this is the worst one yet.
you don’t know it yet, but joe’s figured it out. he’s seen you get flustered three times now over these comments, and he knows something is going on in your brain when they’re said. he isn’t aware if you have feelings for him like he does for you, but he knows you liked when he picked you up so easily on the field the other day.
it was effortless to him, despite what you might think of yourself.
you sit next to him in silence, eyes still closed, trying to control your breathing. just try to fall asleep again you tell yourself, hoping that joe has no idea. if you only knew.
when you wake in the morning, you’re still snuggled on the couch with him as the soft morning light shines gold around the living room. you shake him awake.
“joey, i gotta get going. i need to go home and get ready for work and you have thursday practice.”
he pulls you in closer for a moment, hugging you bye, and then wishes you a good day at work. you bolt out the door and to your car as fast as you can, heading home to wash the previous day away in the shower.
end of flashbacks
so, this is where you are now.
it’s been almost a week since you’ve talked to joe, avoiding him because you aren’t sure what to say or do. part of you knows he has something figured out, but you don’t know what or how much.
you’re terrified to let him in on your feelings, what’s going on in your head, because you’re delicate and you don’t want to ruin something that has always been there for you.
the other part of you knows you have to tell him, you need to tell him. you love him, you lust after him. the comments that keep being made about your sizes are driving you to the point of insanity that nothing will fix it unless joe manhandles you as rough as you can take it and he fucks it out of you.
you’re pretty sure your vibrator is gonna be on its last leg soon.
alright, i gotta call him. i gotta get this over with.
you grab your phone off the kitchen counter and dial his number, listening to it ring for a few moments.
“hello?” he finally answers, sounding a bit upset.
“hey joey. sorry i haven’t been talking to you this week. i just— i think i need to talk to you about some stuff and.. would you mind coming over later?”
he says nothing for a moment, but you hear him blow out a long breath. “yeah, of course, y/n.” he finally says. “i can be over around 7?”
you check the clock on the stove, it reads 4:34pm.
“7 sounds great! see you then!” you say, hanging up quickly. now you play the waiting game.
all your chores are done, and you take a lovely everything shower to help calm your nerves, and you make sure to drink plenty of water and have a snack as you tell yourself affirmations.
it’s going to be okay, he’s my best friend. he will understand. he will still be my friend regardless, he’s always been there for me. if he rejects me, nothing will change that.
you sit on the couch and scroll your phone as you wait. there’s still just a bit over an hour before joey will arrive, so you waste time scrolling tiktok, cozy on the couch.
soon enough you hear the doorbell, and you jump off the couch to answer it, stepping aside to let joe in.
he sits on your couch, waiting for you to join him and start speaking. “joe, i, um.. i hav-“
he cuts you off. “you have feelings for me? you like it when people compare our sizes because it turns you on?” he smirks, leaning back on the couch, crossing his arms behind his head. he’s manspreading now, his thick thighs on full display. your mouth falls open for a moment.
“yeah. essentially exactly that.” you finally reply.
“so what are we gonna do about that?” he questions, pulling you into his lap. you place your hands on his chest instinctively, and before you know what’s happening he‘s pulling you in for a heated kiss.
his lips are soft against yours and he gently prods at your bottom lip, sliding his tongue past as you open it. he tastes like mint, it’s intoxicating you. one minute his large hands are splayed over your back holding you to him, the next he’s lifting you off the couch by grabbing underneath your armpits and carrying you down the hall, roughly body-slamming you on the bed.
“dude, save the UFC moves for ja’marr!” you groan, sucking in a large breath. joe jumps on the bed, caging you in by placing his knees on either side of your hips and his hands next to your head.
“no, i don’t think so.” he smirks, leaning in closer until your noses are nearly touching. you felt your cheeks heating up at his close proximity, and his eye-contact with you was starting to feel intimidating, even though you had just been sharing such a passionate kiss. you hated that you could feel your wetness soaking through your panties just from him trying to wrestle you.
he blows gently on your face and you shove at him. he laughs you off and leans even closer, pressing the tip of his nose to yours before moving away and leaning down to whisper in your ear.
“this would be a lot easier if you’d just admit that you want me to manhandle you. you want me to go rough, right?” he teases. you’ve had enough of his smugness. you grab the back of his neck and pull him in for another kiss, tugging at his hair and nipping his bottom lip. he groans into you. he stands from the bed, picking you up again, carrying you across the room before roughly slamming your body against the wall.
you let out a strangled moan, loving the feeling of him using all his strength on you.
“can i take your shorts off?” he asks, looking into your eyes.
“fuck yes, please.” you breathe out, exhilarated.
joe yanks your shorts and panties down your legs in one swift motion, kneeling down in front of you. he’s able to keep your body held up and pressed against the wall. he looks up at you with questioning eyes, making sure this is okay. you give him a soft nod in response.
he leans in and throws one of your legs over his shoulder. he starts by pressing the smallest kiss to your clit, and then licks a slow, languid stripe up your core. you hiss, your body arching off the wall at the new sensation. when you look down, you find him looking up at you, his beautiful blue eyes trained on your face.
your eyes roll back in your head as he continues his ministrations. you feel the hand that isn’t holding you against the wall rubbing circles on your inner thigh before joe slowly slips a finger into you.
you quickly approach your orgasm, your stomach tight with anticipation. joe doesn’t let up, working you there until your body feels like it’s being dunked into warm bath water, the feeling covering you from head to toe. it takes you a minute to regain your sense of self. joe pulls his fingers from your core and removes your leg from his shoulder, standing back up before lifting you so your legs are around his waist.
you waste no time pulling him in for a kiss. “holy shit, joey!” you moan, baffled at what just happened. he smirks into your kiss.
for the second time, you’re thrown onto the bed. you sit up, propped on your elbows as you watch joe stalk closer, his erection very obvious in his shorts. he pulls his shirt over his head and you do the same, unclasping your bra just after so that you’re completely bare for him.
you chalk your forwardness up to being comfortable with him, normally you wouldn’t have the confidence to act this way. neither would joe, actually, but you shrug it off.
you don’t remember seeing him strip his shorts off or climb on top of you, but you know you’re kissing him again. you can’t get over how good his lips feel. one of his hands traces your curves, he runs his fingers along your body until his large hand is cupping your breast.
he moves his kisses to your neck and you gasp, reveling in the feeling of him kissing and touching you softly and sweetly.
you look down at his throbbing cock and suddenly you feel intimidated. joe hears you gasp. he lets out a soft laugh.
“don’t talk a big game and then act scared of it, baby.” he teases, pressing light kisses to your cheeks. you swallow thickly.
joe reaches down and strokes himself, spitting on his hand to slick himself up. he looks at you once again for confirmation, and you nod to him. he helps you get comfortable beneath him, positioning your legs around his waist as he pushes his tip in. you suck in a harsh breath.
it stings, but it isn’t the worst thing. he moves against you slowly, sliding in inch by inch until he bottoms out. he looks down and you, your faces inches apart, and you giggle.
“what is it bub?” he asks, smiling softly. “they weren’t kidding calling you big dick joe.” you laugh out. joe laughs too.
after giving you a few minutes to adjust, he starts moving hips, rocking into yours slowly. you think this is what the peak of euphoria feels like.
he leans back down to kiss you, his hand finding your throat and squeezing ever so slightly. your back is arched, your chest pressed to his as your hands tangle through his hair. his hands move down, finding your hips and holding them down to the bed. you moan at the rough grip.
he starts going harder, his hips pistoning into yours as you continue kissing, both of you moaning out your pleasure.
“joey, i-i’m close.” you warn, your body covered in a sheen of sweat. you felt it again, you were so close to that warmth once again pulsing over your body.
until.
knock knock knock.
what was that? you thought. you tried to focus on joe but everything seemed to be slipping away.
then, there it was again. the knocking. and the shrill of your phone ringing.
you startled awake, sweat covering your body. you looked at your phone screen. 7:10pm. one missed call from joe.
you threw your throw blanket off, trying to gather your thoughts. what the fuck? what is happening?
you thought you’d just had the best fuck of your life, that everything would be okay with you and joe but… it was just a dream? you dozed off and you didn’t even know it.
“y/n, let me in!” you hear joe yell from the opposite side of the door. you’re panicking, your body is hot, your clothes are stuck to you. still, you get up and almost sprint to the door. you open it, taking in his appearance. just like your dream.
black shorts, black shirt. backwards cap.
“can i come in? are you okay?” he asks. you watch as he takes in your appearance. sweaty hair stuck to your neck, your eyes glazed over.
“um, yeah joe. i’m okay. come in.” you step aside, inviting him in, just like your dream. he sits down.
“so, what did you wanna talk about?” he asks. you sit down next to him, blowing out a long breath. this was gonna be a longggg conversation.
#joe burrow#cincinnati bengals#joe burrow imagine#joe burrow x reader#joe burrow fic#joe burrow fanfic#joe burrow fluff#joe burrow smut#joeburrow#joey burrow#joe burrow fanfiction#joey b#joe burrow x reader fanfic#joe burrow angst#joe burrow x reader smut#joe burrow fan fic#joe burrow blurb#joe burrow bengals#joe burrow x you#joe burrow x y/n
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She's Such a Good Girl



You move in across the hall from Paige Bueckers. It doesn’t take long before she tries to shatter your innocent persona. And you just let her.
Paige Bueckers x reader
Word Count: 1.9k
Themes: reader is a shy lil baby, a few inappropriate thoughts, paige being a huge flirt
Masterlist
A/N: hiii cuties! So I had a few ideas I've been toying around with, so I merged them together and came up with this. Also the third part of 'I Can Do It With a Broken Heart' will hopefully be out soon but I'm still trying to figure out the direction I want to take it in. Enjoy!
~
Your breaths are ragged as you lug your final suitcase through the front door of your new apartment. It was your senior year at UCONN, and you and your roommates had been assigned a new apartment, which you were ecstatic about. Long gone were the days of being squished into an old dorm room. And you were very excited about the lack of noise, which had kept you from your much needed 10 hours of sleep the past few years.
The August heat was stifling, but you welcomed the cool air coming through the vents, as you began organizing your new bedroom to perfection. Eagerness bubbled in your chest as you thought about your upcoming year before graduation. You’d finally be free.
College was supposed to be the time to find yourself before being inevitably dragged into the cruel pits of the real world. It was the time to go wild, get drunk often, and maybe even meet the love of your life. But you had spent your weekends studying and fine tuning the ‘good girl’ persona that you had adopted when you were a child.
You were the eldest daughter with a raging people pleasing complex, and it was starting to feel like your downfall. Your two roommates had found adoring boyfriends, and they often found themselves drunk as hell on the weekends, reveling in being young and carefree. You were growing to hate your crippling shyness.
You’d be lying if you said your lack of experience hadn’t started to weigh on you. You really wanted to learn how to put yourself out there. But you were dreadfully shy, and the idea of dating or hooking up was terrifying. Your innocence was fucking embarrassing. How would you explain to someone that you were a virgin? And what if they thought you were too timid to be good in bed?
So you just continued on as you had been throughout college; you studied, and you buried yourself in your imagination, and you prayed and hoped that someone would be willing to overlook all of your own insecurities.
Your thoughts of pity are interrupted by your two roommates calling your name. You walk out of your bedroom into the living room where the two girls are sharing shiteating grins, and you send them a questioning look.
“You’ll never guess who is across the hall from us,” Sarah says slyly, causing a pang of worry to shoot through your chest. The smirk on her face grew as you asked who it was.
“Paige Bueckers,” your other roommate, Taylor, shrieks as your face turns bright red.
Fuck.
“You’re fucking joking, right?” You whisper, eyes automatically flitting towards your door.
“Nope! I saw her and Aubrey Griffin walk out of the apartment literally five minutes ago,” Taylor announces, laughing as you fall backwards onto the couch.
“This is not good,” you whine dramatically, hands covering your face.
“Now you can see her pretty face every day,” Sarah all but sings, taking great pleasure in how uncomfortable you felt.
You scoff in indignation. “I can see her pretty face every day from the safety and comfort of my phone. It’s not like I’m actually ever going to talk to her.”
Your roommates pout at your sheer stubbornness. They had been trying to get you out of your shell from the last few years, much to your displeasure.
“C’mon, you’re so hot. You could totally catch Paige’s eye. You gotta have more confidence, girl,” Taylor all but whines exasperatedly.
“Yeah, sure,” you snort derisively. “Maybe while I’m at it, I can rizz up Harry Styles.” You roll your eyes at their ridiculousness.
They sigh in unison, stopping their pleading.
“We’ll just have to see what happens,” Taylor says with a dramatic wink, causing you to stick out your tongue childishly.
“I have spent the last three years avoiding Paige Bueckers’ beauty. I can do it one more year.”
Little did you know, though, that it would become quite hard to avoid the tall blonde.
~
Friday evening rolls around quickly, and because it was the last weekend before classes started, the students were eager to party it up. You had hoped the apartment building would be quiet, empty from the throngs of students out partying elsewhere. But the girls of the basketball team had other ideas.
The last few days, you had seen multiple girls coming and going from Paige’s apartment. The noise had been loud, but nothing too crazy. It was well known that the girls often went live on tiktok or instagram, and you had heard their laughter across the hall last night. So far, though, the volume levels had maintained a respectable level.
You had obviously jinxed yourself by thinking that, as the laughter and music pounded through your own walls. The cacophonous sound sent you spiraling. If you wanted them to be quieter, you would have to go ask them to turn it down, and you hated confrontation.
But you were alone tonight, and if you wanted to go to sleep at a decent hour, that was your only option.
You move in front of the mirror in your bathroom, subconsciously fixing your hair and muttering words of encouragement to yourself. You could do this. Paige is just a regular person. Sure, she was ridiculously attractive, but she was just a girl.
You walk out of the apartment into the hallway, your heart pounding dangerously as you near the door. The volume was insane, and you felt momentarily sad that you were wasting your Friday night alone at home, while everyone was having the time of their lives.
You shake your head, internally chastising yourself for the brutal thoughts, and with all the courage you could muster up, you knock loudly on the door, hoping the basketball team could hear it through the noise.
A few moments pass, and you momentarily think you’re about to pass out before the door opens and you are met with the glorious face of Paige fucking Bueckers.
You gulp, immediately grabbing a lock of hair to play with, desperately attempting to mask your anxiety. You bite your lip and look up at her.
“H-hi,” you stutter, feeling the blush bloom in your cheeks. “I’m so sorry to bother you guys, but the music is a little loud.”
Paige's face morphs into a look of surprise. “Oh shit. I’m sorry. I told KK to turn it down, but no one listens to me around here,” she jokes. “You live across the hall, right? I’m Paige!”
Her friendliness doesn’t necessarily shock you; she was well known for being a genuinely kind person around campus, but the fact that she knew who you were does shock you.
“Uh, yeah I do.” You introduce yourself with a shy smile, growing warmer under her gaze.
“Why don’t you come hang with us?” She prods, gesturing towards the living room with a large grin on her beautiful fucking face.
Your carefully crafted plan to forget about Paige this year was crumbling around you. And before you could even begin to thinking about stopping yourself, you shyly accept her invitation.
There was no going back now.
Paige ushers you in, leading you into the chaos, where most of the basketball team were enthralled in making tiktoks.
As you walk in and stand next to Paige, you look around, all but staring at the tall girls. The whole basketball team was ridiculously attractive, and it made your shyness increase tenfold. Paige gets their attention, and their eyes turn to you as Paige introduces you.
“She just moved in across the hall. And I told you the music was too loud, KK,” Paige adds, sending a sharp look towards the younger girl.
She grins mischievously, walking up to you with the swagger you could only dream of having.
“Sorry, girly pop, we’ll keep it down next time,” KK says, sending you a wink. You giggle in response, feeling more at ease already.
Paige introduces you to the rest of the team. They’re all so friendly, and your nervous demeanor slowly melts away as you acclimate to their boisterousness. They take turns talking to you, but Paige stays beside you, never being more than an arms length away.
You weren’t going to read into it. But the little voice in your head was screaming in both apprehension and glee. In the same way, you did not want to leave her side. In an insanely short amount of time, her presence had become a comfort to you, and you weren’t quite ready to give that up yet. So despite it being well past your respectable bedtime, you powered through, Paige’s aura energizing you.
As you mused over your thoughts, Paige was stuck in her own head. She had seen you around campus before; your pretty face was a difficult one to forget, and she was secretly delighted when she had opened her door to reveal your timid face.
She was determined to break you out of your shell. Little did she know how much she would.
~
You look down at your phone a while later, and you’re shocked to see that it was just past midnight. You could not remember the last time you were out that late, and a yawn threatens to escape from the depths of your throat. You subtly rub at your eyes, and Paige doesn’t miss it.
She nudges you, and you look up to gaze at her bright blue eyes.
God, she was so pretty.
“You sleepy?” She asks teasingly, and you nod, a blush creeping up your neck again.
“I’m not used to staying up this late. I should probably head back home,” you say, regret lacing your words.
Paige nods, standing up to walk you out to the door. You don’t miss how her hand grazes your waist as she guides you.
You wave goodbye to the girls who still remained, and they enthusiastically bid you a goodnight, making you promise to join them again soon.
“Thanks for letting me crash,” you profess, heart still pounding dangerously from the subtle touches, tingles on your waist left in her wake.
“Course,” she shrugs, a smirk on her face. She hands you her phone. “Let me know if we’re too loud again,” she whispers, leaning down to your ear.
Her closeness has you flustered, and you quickly enter your contact information, avoiding the heat of her gaze.
As you hand her cell phone back, her fingers brush across yours, and you subconsciously bite your lip to hold back a shaky breath from the view of her long fingers and her big, veiny hands.
Fuck.
The smirk doesn’t fade from Paige’s face as she notices you staring, and your face erupts in a vicious blush once more. .
With a bashful wave and a smile, you leave, all but running back into your apartment. Your heart was pounding, and there was a slight ache down in your most intimate area that had you squirming in desire.
Your little crush on Paige had been unrelenting the last few years, but it was still just casual. Things had changed, though, and now your feelings were undeniable. Long gone were the days of ignoring your sexuality.
Paige was so hot. And you were so screwed.
~
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
Please, please, please let me know what you think and if you want another part (or more)! Again, thanks for all the love and support!
xoxo katy
#paige bueckers#paige bueckers x reader#paige bueckers x you#paige x reader#uconn women’s basketball#uconn wbb
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ཐིཋྀ KINKTOBER DAY 9 - virginity loss : izuku midoriya
warnings : virginity loss (izuku), afab reader, mentions of body counts, non-relationship hookup (but deku has a thing for reader), reader calls izuku “izu”, oral sex (izuku receiving), reader has decent sized boobs, cliffhanger kind of
word count : 840
🐙 note : none
it wasn't really surprising that izuku was a virgin, hell i’m sure anyone could’ve guessed that much. the conversation took a weird turn when discussing izuku’s fated rival; katsuki bakugo. izuku explained that katsuki is a well known bragger who loves to flaunt his body count, he constantly expresses how izuku will never catch up to him and how because the boy has no experience no girl will ever want to sleep with him.
“well… do you wanna have sex with me?”
the question stuns izuku, turning him bright red and causing him to panic, he asks if you’re sure and mumbles about how there’s no way someone like you would ever wanna sleep with someone like him! he continues to go on a ramble about how you’re just so cool and pretty and your quirk is amazing and, and, and–
you stop and put your hands on izuku’s shoulders, he freezes and stares with a blank expression.
“we can have sex izuku, i don’t mind teaching you.”
izuku feels a mix of many emotions; pride, worry, confusion, just to name a few. slowly you drag izuku by the hand into your bed, gently laying him down and getting on top of him.
“don’t worry deku, just relax.”
“o-okay! i’ll do my best!”
you almost laugh at the poor guy, as optimistic as ever. you find yourself somewhat shocked at the way midoriya feels beneath you, despite being on the shorter side he was far from a twig; you could feel his solid abs and thick thigh muscles.
“have you ever had your dick sucked izu?”
“umm… no?”
“do you want me to?”
izuku nods enthusiastically, you get off his lap and lower yourself towards his thighs. carefully you settle between them, looking up at him with eager eyes that causes him to go red all over. you gently remove his basketball shorts and are met with his bare thighs and black boxers, you unexpectedly gawk at him, surprised by his muscle and pretty good size. pulling off his boxers you find that he’s about 5.7 inches, thick and red from embarrassment.
you look up to him for approval and he sends you a thumbs up, you giggle at his dorky behaviors. you lightly grab his length and izuku’s breath catches in his throat. keeping eye contact with him you slowly lick up his side and kiss his pretty pink tip, izuku shutters at the feeling and finds himself struggling not to make noise.
“you can make noise y’know, you have a cute voice.”
midoriya can hardly think, the feeling of your warm hand and breath by his cock too much for him to handle. he simply hums at your words and tells you he’s okay, you smile at him and continue to give his cock attention.
you swirl your tongue around his tip, using your hand to massage his extended length. taking his tip into your mouth you suck lightly and izuku swears he could see stars, he wonders if kacchan feels this good when he gets head. suddenly his thoughts get interrupted when you take the whole of him into your mouth, he gasps, unable to contain himself he brings his hand to your head and tugs on your hair making you moan onto his cock. izuku is whimpering and thrashing about, so much so that it’s affecting your ability to properly suck him off.
“izu, stop moving so much.” you manage to get out with your mouth still surrounding his cock.
with his eyes closed and head back he lets out a strained “uh-huh” and bucks his hips into your mouth, you moan at his length and he can’t help himself from doing it again.
“i’m sorry-sorry it feels–sososo good”
now izuku is practically face fucking you, albeit gently, he’s thrusting into your mouth and tugging lightly on your hair. you look up and find him absolutely lost, one hand on his abs and his mouth wide open, gasping and panting for air.
“ah! feels-feels funny, is this s-supposed to happen?”
you hum around his dick and he continues to push himself onto your tongue, you move your tongue up and down on him to encourage him closer to the edge.
eventually you feel a warm and thick substance invading your mouth, letting you know he came. izuku is panting and groaning, trying to catch his breath. he immediately lets go of your hair and rambles continuous apologizes, you have to force your mouth into his in order to get him to shut up.
he melts into the kiss, slightly unsure of quite how to kiss. his hands remain at his sides, too scared to touch you, unsure of where his hands should be.
you break the kiss and grab his hands, moving them onto your waist and breasts. izuku seems hesitant but eventually squeezes the areas softly. he’s kind of surprised, your skin was so soft and warm and your boobs were so squishy and bouncy.
“do you think you can go for more?”
#bnha#boku no hero acedamia#boku no hero academia x reader#bnha x reader#bnha smut#bnha x reader smut#mha#my hero acedamia#my hero academia x reader#mha x reader#mha smut#mha x reader smut#izuku midoriya#izuku midoriya x reader#midoriya izuku#midoriya izuku x reader#deku x reader#deku x reader smut#midoriya izuku x reader smut#izuku midoriya x reader smut#midoriya x reader#midoriya x reader smut#izuku x reader#izuku x reader smut#bnha kinktober#kinktober#kinktober 2024#admin 🐙
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played me like a clarinet - rafe cameron



request: "Desperately-on my knees-begging for a ''She's all that'' from 1999, with Popular Rafe x Reader. Ooouff, and you want that soul crushing heartbreak when she finds out about the bet he had made"
pairing: rafe x smart!nerdy!reader warnings: angst <3; VERY LONG
wrote this listening to roses <3
Rafe Cameron held grudges better than anyone and his ex was about to witness exactly that.
Fucking Jessica Green liked to think of herself as the queen of their university, the epitome of beauty and popularity. Some real high school bullshit he only fed because he liked her. And then, she went and dumped him for none other than Tyler West, the star player of his rival basketball team. Technically, she cheated on him, sneaking around with that piece of shit behind his back.
The humiliation was killing him.
Rafe wasn't one to take such things lying down; he wanted revenge, and he wanted it badly. He wanted to ruin her life. It wasn’t just enough to ruin her reputation—he wanted to hit her where it hurt the most. And what would hurt more than being replaced? Not just by any girl, but by someone who was everything she wasn’t. It was a genius idea, really. To prove that some loser could easily take her place, with a little help of course.
And that’s when he noticed you.
Kelce pointed you out actually, when they were six beers in and too fucking drunk to think clearly. But it was still a good choice.
You were the complete opposite of his ex, blending into the crowds like it was your superpower. He watched you for an entire hour at the party. You didn’t utter a single word the entire time you were there, only nursing your drink and listening to the other girls on the cheerleading squad speak.
Hell, he didn’t even know you were a cheerleader until that night.
Were you always there? How had he never noticed you before? It was hard to remember when all he focused on up until then was Jessica.
You were practically invisible in comparison to her, always on the sidelines, blending into the background.
You were perfect.
If he could take this overlooked, nerdy girl and turn her into the new queen of the university, it would be the ultimate blow to Jessica's ego. It would prove that she wasn’t as irreplaceable as she thought.
“You really gonna do it?”
He didn’t take his eyes off you, “Oh yeah. ‘M doing it.”
“Nahh, there’s no way you’re pulling this off.”
Rafe leaned back in his chair, a cocky grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. Kelce’s skepticism was exactly what he expected, and honestly, it made the challenge even sweeter.
“You think so?” he said, his tone light but with an edge of determination. “Watch me.”
Kelce, always the instigator, leaned forward with a smirk. “Come on, Cameron. You really think you can turn that quiet little thing into the next Jessica? She’s cute, I guess, in that nerdy way, but she’s not queen material.”
Rafe’s eyes narrowed slightly, but he kept his cool. “She’s got potential,” he said confidently. “Just needs someone to show her how to use it.”
Topper laughed, shaking his head. “You’re insane. This isn’t some movie where the shy girl takes off her glasses and suddenly she’s hot. Jessica had something that can’t be taught.”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” Rafe pointed out, “It’s all about confidence man. Jessica wasn’t born the way she is now. She learned how to act the part, and I can do the same with her.”
Like a school project, he thought to himself. That’s all you were.
Kelce took a swig of his drink, clearly enjoying where the conversation was going. “Alright, I’ll bite. How much time are we talking here? Because she’s got a long way to go, my guy.”
Rafe tilted his head, considering. “Give me two months. By the end of it, she’ll be turning heads. Maybe even more.”
Topper snorted, setting his drink down with a thunk. “Two months? No way. I’ll bet you a grand you can’t pull it off.”
Kelce laughed, clapping his hands together. “Oh, this is gonna be good. I’m in. A grand says you can’t turn her into the hottest girl in school.”
Rafe’s eyes glinted with determination. “You’re on,” he said, without hesitation. “In a month or two, you’ll be handing me that fucking cash, and she’ll be the one everyone’s talking about. Looking all pretty in my arms.”
Kelce raised his glass. “To Rafe and his miracle project. This is gonna be fun to watch.”
Topper shook his head again, still grinning as he clinked his glass against Kelce’s. “Here’s to you wasting a month of your life on a lost cause.”
He clinked his glass with theirs, the bet sealed.
“You better start saving up.”
This plan was flawless.
It was so good that even in his drunken haze, he could see how perfectly it would play out. The first step was simple: get close to you. Make you feel special, noticed, like you were someone who mattered. Rafe knew how to charm people; it was practically second nature. And with Jessica, it had been easy—too easy. She’d fallen for his looks, his confidence, his golden boy appeal.
The next day, he started showing up at places he knew you’d be. The library, the campus coffee shop, even lingering around after cheerleading practice. At first, he didn’t approach you, just observed.
He had to figure out how to crack the code, how to make you see him without scaring you off. It took a week before he made his first move.
You were sitting alone in the library, surrounded by textbooks and notes. He casually strolled up, pretending to be looking for a book on the same shelf. “Hey,” he said, glancing down at you with a disarming smile. “You’re in my econ class, right? Mind if I sit here?”
You looked up, a little startled, but nodded, shifting your books to make room for him. You probably couldn’t believe that someone like Rafe Cameron was talking to you, let alone sitting with you. But that was the whole point, wasn’t it? To make you feel special, to pull you out of your shell and into his orbit.
He knew he still had to tread carefully. The wrong move could send you running, and he couldn’t afford that.
You kept your eyes down, focused on your notes. He noticed the way your hand shook slightly when you turned the page. Rafe leaned in a little closer, just enough to make his presence known without crowding you.
“You always this buried in work?” he asked casually, pulling out a notebook and flipping it open.
You glanced up, surprised he was still there. “I guess. I have a lot to catch up on.”
He chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “I hear you. Econ’s been kicking my ass this semester. You doing okay in it?”
He could tell you were surprised. Probably didn't expect him to know you shared the same class. And he didn't, until last week.
You hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah, it’s… fine. Just a lot of material.”
“Tell me about it,” he said, rolling his eyes dramatically. “I’ve been trying to wrap my head around these supply and demand curves for days. You think the professor’s trying to torture us?”
You smiled faintly, a small victory in his book. “Maybe. It’s kind of her thing.”
Rafe grinned, pleased that he got a reaction out of you. “You mind if I study with you? Might help to bounce some ideas off each other.”
You blinked, clearly taken aback by his request. “Um, sure. I mean, if you want.”
“Definitely,” he replied smoothly. “You seem like you actually know what’s going on, unlike me.”
He spent the next hour working alongside you, occasionally asking questions, but mostly just being there. He didn’t push, didn’t try too hard. He wanted you to get comfortable with him, to see him as someone you could rely on.
“I’m sorry about Jessica.”
The way you blurted the words out told him you hadn’t meant to say it.
Rafe froze, his grip tightening on the pen in his hand. He could feel the familiar anger bubbling up, but he forced it down, keeping his expression calm. This was exactly what he didn’t want—Jessica’s name being brought up, especially by you.
But he couldn’t let you see that.
He looked at you, feigning surprise with a bit of sadness, as if Jessica was just a painful memory he was trying to move past. “Oh,” he said softly, his voice controlled and measured. “You know about that?”
You nodded, eyes wide and apologetic, clearly regretting bringing it up. “Yeah… I mean, it’s all over campus, right? The girls were talking about it in the locker room. I just—I didn’t mean to…I’m sorry.”
Rafe forced a smile, as if he was grateful for your concern. He leaned back in his chair, letting out a small sigh as if he was relieved to talk about it, even though it was the last thing he wanted to do. “It’s okay,” he said, his tone gentle. “I guess it’s just one of those things, y’know? We were together for a while, and it sucked when it ended.”
You looked down at your notes, fidgeting with the corner of a page.
“She shouldn’t have done that to you.”
He let out a dry laugh, the bitterness threatening to seep through, but he quickly disguised it as a rueful chuckle. “Yeah, well, people do shitty things sometimes. Guess it just wasn’t meant to be.”
He noticed the way you seemed to relax as if you were relieved that he wasn’t angry. He needed to shift the conversation away from Jessica, and back to you, where it should be. “But hey,” he said, his voice brightening as if he was genuinely trying to shake off the bad memories, “Everything happens for a reason right?"
You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden attention. “Right."
He leaned forward slightly, his gaze locking onto yours. “You’re not like everyone else around here. You’re real, y’know? Genuine. I like that.”
Bullshit. But he could see the effect his words had on you. Easy.
Your cheeks flushed slightly, and you looked away, a small, shy smile playing on your lips. “I’m just…here.”
Rafe shook his head, his smile softening, taking on a more sincere tone. “I’m glad I’m getting the chance to see that.”
You didn’t say anything for a moment, just looked at him with those wide eyes, as if you were trying to figure him out. Rafe held your gaze, letting the silence stretch just long enough to make the moment feel meaningful, even though he knew exactly what he was doing. He was reeling you in, one calculated move at a time.
Finally, you nodded, lips twitching, “Thanks, Rafe."
Oh, you were too perfect for this.
He grinned, leaning back in his chair as if the conversation had lightened his mood.
“Anytime."
It was a perfect conversation, one that made you feel like he was letting you in on something personal, something real. And from the look on your face, it worked.
But inside, Rafe was fuming. Jessica had managed to worm her way into his head again, even indirectly. It was a reminder of why he was doing this in the first place.
He plastered on another smile, picking up his pen and tapping it lightly against his notebook. “So,” he said, steering the conversation back to safer waters, “You think you can help me with this econ stuff? Because I’m pretty sure I’m doomed without you.”
You laughed, the tension from earlier completely dissipating. “Yeah, I think I can manage that.”
As you both turned your attention back to your notes, Rafe felt a sense of satisfaction. He was winning that bet on way or another.
Over the next few weeks, Rafe made sure to stick to his plan. Slowly but surely, he worked his way into your life. He was always around, ready with a casual compliment or a small gesture that made you feel noticed, special. He’d walk you to class, carry your books, and offer to study with you whenever he had the chance. He knew how to play the long game, and with every passing day, you were warming up to him more and more.
He made sure to steer clear of anything that might remind you of Jessica or his past. Instead, he focused on building up your confidence, subtly encouraging you to step out of your comfort zone.
He’d invite you to parties, introducing you to his friends, and before long, you were starting to come out of your shell. You even started to dress a little differently—nothing too drastic, but enough to catch people’s attention. The change was gradual, but it was happening, and Rafe could see it.
The first party he invited you to was at a swanky off-campus house, the kind of place you’d only ever heard about but never had the nerve to attend. He had that effect on you—made you feel like maybe, just maybe, you belonged in a world that had always seemed so out of reach.
“Come on, it’ll be fun,” Rafe said, his voice smooth as silk. You hesitated, biting your lip, feeling out of place just imagining yourself in his world.
“I don’t know… I’m not really into parties,” you admitted.
Rafe grinned, a playful glint in his eyes. “I promise I won’t let anything bad happen. Just give it a try, for me?”
His gaze was so earnest, so convincing, that you found yourself nodding. “Okay. I guess I could give it a shot.”
The first party was initially awkward—loud music, people you didn’t know, and a social scene that felt worlds away from where you belonged.
But Rafe stayed close.
The moment you walked in, the loud music and flashing lights overwhelmed your senses. You clung a little closer to him, who noticed and shot you a reassuring smile, his hand resting on the small of your back as he guided you through the crowd. He was different tonight—more confident, more assertive.
“Relax,” he whispered in your ear, his breath warm against your skin. “You’re with me. Have some fun, sweets.”
You nodded, trying to loosen up, but the eyes on you—on both of you—were hard to ignore. People were noticing. Whispering. It was exactly what Rafe wanted.
He led you to where Kelce and Topper were already posted up, drinks in hand. The second they saw you, their eyebrows shot up, but they quickly masked their surprise with easy smiles. Rafe kept you close as he greeted them, his hand never leaving your back.
“Guys, this is her,” Rafe said, his tone casual but with a hint of pride. “Told you I’d get her to come out with us.”
Kelce looked you up and down, his smirk growing. “Well, well, Cameron. Didn’t think you had it in you.”
Topper raised his drink in your direction, his smile more genuine. “Nice to meet you. Rafe’s been talking you up.”
You managed a small chuckle, feeling the weight of their attention on you. “Nice to meet you too.”
Rafe gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Why don’t you grab a drink? I’ll be right here.”
You nodded, grateful for the brief escape, and headed towards the makeshift bar in the kitchen. As soon as you were out of earshot, the easygoing demeanor Rafe had been maintaining with you slipped away, replaced by something more calculating as he turned back to his friends.
“So?” Kelce asked, “How’s the project going?”
Rafe shrugged, taking a sip of his drink. “Better than expected. She’s starting to come out of her shell. Still got a long way to go, but I’d say we’re on track.”
Topper leaned against the counter, his gaze following you as you picked out a drink. “She seems… nice. You sure you want to go through with this, man?”
Rafe shot him a look, his expression hardening. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Topper shrugged. “Just saying. She doesn’t seem like the type who’s cut out for this crowd. Might be too sweet for what you’ve got planned.”
Kelce chuckled, shaking his head. “She’s sweet, alright. But that’s the whole point, isn’t it? She’s not Jessica. And if he pulls this off, it’s gonna be legendary.”
Rafe’s lips curled into a smirk. “Exactly. She’s perfect for this.”
He said it with confidence, but there was something else in his eyes—something he quickly buried as he watched you make your way back with a drink in hand.
When you returned to the group, his expression softened instantly. He slipped back into the charming, attentive guy he’d been playing for you all night.
“Got something good?” he asked, nodding towards your drink.
You giggled, holding up your cup. “Just punch. Thought I’d start slow.”
He snorted, nodding approvingly. “Smart move. Don’t let these guys talk you into anything too crazy.”
The night went on like that, Rafe playing the perfect gentleman, always by your side, making sure you were comfortable, that you were enjoying yourself. He introduced you to more people, his arm around your shoulders, subtly guiding you through the social maze with ease. And every time you excused yourself—whether to grab another drink or use the restroom—his demeanor shifted. The smile would slip, and he’d share knowing looks with his friends, a silent acknowledgment of the game they were playing.
But you didn’t see any of that.
You saw the guy who made you feel like you were finally part of something bigger, like you belonged. And as the night went on, you found yourself relaxing more, laughing, talking, feeling the walls you’d built around yourself start to come down.
Rafe noticed, of course. That was the whole point. He’d spent weeks laying the groundwork, and tonight was just the beginning. He was getting what he wanted.
But as he watched you laugh at something Kelce said, genuinely enjoying yourself, he felt a pang of something unfamiliar. It was brief, fleeting, but it was there. Maybe it was guilt. Maybe it was something else. He quickly pushed it aside, reminding himself why he was doing this.
He knew better than to get too comfortable.
He knew his ex wouldn’t stay out of his business forever, and sure enough, she confronted him right before class the next day.
“Rafe, can we talk?”
He didn’t look at her right away, instead shoving his notebook into his bag as if she wasn’t even worth the effort. But he couldn’t resist; he turned to her, keeping his expression neutral. “What’s up?”
Jessica glanced around, making sure no one was listening, before stepping closer to him. Her voice was low, almost pleading. “What the fuck are you doing?”
Rafe raised an eyebrow, playing dumb. “What do you mean?”
She huffed in frustration, clearly not in the mood for games. “Don’t act like you don’t know. She’s a nice girl, I know she’s not your type.”
Rafe couldn’t help the smirk that tugged at his lips. “Jealous?
Jessica’s eyes flashed with anger, but there was something else there too—guilt.
“No. You’re just going to use her to get back at me? That’s not fair. She doesn’t deserve that.”
He leaned in closer, his smirk turning cold. “You didn’t think about fairness when you were sneaking around with Tyler, did you? Why should I care about what she deserves?”
"Rafe."
"You only care about your precious reputation, so shut the fuck up."
Jessica flinched, “I’m sorry, okay? I shouldn’t have done what I did. But I fell in love with Tyler. I’m not sorry about that.”
“Do you even realize what you did to me?” The memory of the last time he’d trusted her flashed before his eyes—the way she’d smiled at him. The same smile she had for someone else, “You don’t get to apologize now. You don’t get to tell me what’s fair.”
Jessica’s expression softened, her voice dropping to a near whisper. “I’m not saying this for me. I’m saying it for her."
"Right, because you care so much about other people, huh?"
"You're being difficult for no reason."
Rafe clenched his jaw, every word she said feeling like a knife twisting in his gut. He wanted to lash out, to tell her that she didn’t get to play the moral high ground after everything she’d done. But instead, he just stared at her, his eyes hard and cold.
“Stay out of it, Jess” he said finally, his voice low and dangerous. “And keep your fucking mouth shut.”
She sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly as if she’d been expecting this. “Just think about it before you do something stupid."
Without another word, Jessica turned and walked away, leaving Rafe standing there, seething with anger. He watched her go, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. Of course, she would act like she gave a shit about you the moment he’s attention shifted from her. She had no right to lecture him, no right to tell him what to do.
This was about revenge, about proving a point. You were just a means to an end, nothing more.
But you made it so fucking hard for him to keep his head in the game.
Every time you smiled at him, every time you thanked him for something small, it chipped away at the cold resolve he had built up inside. He told himself it was just part of the plan, that getting close to you was necessary for the outcome he wanted. But the more time he spent with you, the more he realized that he was enjoying himself.
He didn't even have to put in the effort to influence you. You began to speak up in class, even crack jokes with the other girls on the cheerleading squad. The transformation was happening right before his eyes, just like he’d planned. But instead of feeling satisfied, there was a knot of guilt forming in his stomach. You were changing, yes, but it wasn’t just on the outside. You were starting to trust him, to look at him like he was more than just some popular guy who was doing you a favor. You were starting to care, and that terrified him.
One night, after another party where you had danced a little closer, laughed a little louder, Rafe walked you back to your dorm. The campus was quiet, the stars above bright against the inky sky. You were buzzing with the energy of the night, still talking animatedly about how much fun you’d had. The sound of your laughter, the way your eyes lit up—it caught him off guard.
“Thanks for inviting me, Rafe. I never thought I’d actually enjoy these things, but you make it… I don’t know, easier, I guess.”
Rafe smiled down at you, trying to ignore the way his heart twisted at your words.
“I’m glad sweets. You deserve to have fun.”
You looked up at him, your eyes softening. “I don’t think I’ve ever thanked you properly. For everything. You didn’t have to be this nice to me.”
For a split second, he saw you. Not as a means to an end, but as someone he genuinely cared about.
His expression faltered for a moment before he quickly recovered. “It’s no big deal. Really.”
But it was a big deal, and you both knew it.
You had gone from barely existing on the social radar to being someone everyone noticed, someone everyone wanted to be around. And it was all because of him. Rafe had given you that, but he knew he was taking something from you too—your innocence, your trust.
He walked you to your door, his usual confidence wavering as you turned to face him. There was something different in your gaze tonight, something that made his breath catch in his throat.
“Rafe… I’ve been meaning to ask you something,” you began, your voice a little hesitant.
He forced himself to stay calm, even though his heart was pounding in his chest. “Yeah? What’s up?”
You looked down, fiddling with the hem of your top before meeting his eyes again. “Why did you start talking to me? I mean, really. Was it because you felt sorry for me? Or… or something else?”
Rafe’s mind raced, trying to find the right words, the ones that wouldn’t hurt you. He could lie, like he’d been doing all along, or he could tell you the truth, risk everything.
But before he could answer, you continued, your voice softer now. “Because… I’m glad you did. Whatever the reason was. I’ve never felt this… this good about myself. And it’s because of you.”
Rafe swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry.
Fuck. He’d never expected this, never thought that you would be the one to make him feel something real, something that wasn’t just part of his stupid revenge plan.
He’d thought he could control this, control you, but it was slipping through his fingers. He stepped closer to you, his hand reaching out to gently brush a strand of hair behind your ear.
“You’ve always been amazing,” he said quietly, his voice hoarse. “I just… I just helped you see it.”
You grinned up at him, your eyes shining with gratitud. It was too much, too real, and Rafe could feel the walls he’d carefully constructed around his heart starting to crumble. You were looking at him like he was someone worth caring about, and for the first time, he felt like he was the one being played.
He couldn’t let you get any closer. If you did, he wouldn’t be able to follow through with his plan.
But pushing you away now, after all the effort he’d put in, would raise too many questions. So, he did the only thing he could think of—he leaned down and kissed you.
It was gentle at first, testing the waters, but when you didn’t pull away, he deepened it, his hand cradling the back of your head as if you were something fragile. Your lips were soft against his, and for a moment, Rafe let himself forget why he was doing this. He let himself enjoy the warmth of your body pressed against his, the way you sighed softly into his mouth.
But then, just as quickly as it started, he pulled back.
The look in your eyes nearly undid him. There was so much trust, so much hope, and it made him want to break something, anything, just to stop feeling the way he did.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he murmured, his voice rough, as if the kiss had taken something out of him.
You nodded, still dazed, a small smile playing on your lips. “Yeah, tomorrow.”
This was wrong.
He knew it was wrong. But in that moment, with the way you were looking at him, he couldn’t bring himself to care. He watched you go, waiting until you disappeared into your dorm before he let out a shaky breath.
What the fuck was he doing? He couldn’t afford to second-guess himself now. Not when he was so close to winning and yet, he couldn’t help but feel that he was the one who was losing.
Later that night, as he lay in bed staring at the ceiling, Jessica’s words mocked him.
“I’m sorry okay? I shouldn’t have done what I did. But I fell in love with Tyler. I’m not sorry about that.”
He had scoffed at her then, dismissed her excuses as pathetic attempts to justify her shitty behavior.
But now, lying there alone, he couldn’t help but wonder if he was any different. He didn’t plan on feeling anything real for you. This was supposed to be a game, a way to hurt Jessica the way she hurt him. But somewhere along the line, things had changed.
How could he let this happen? How could he, of all people, start to care? He was supposed to be in control, supposed to be the one pulling the strings, not getting tangled in them.
And yet, the memory of your pretty face, the sound of your laugh, the warmth in your eyes—these were the things that lingered in his mind, all the damn time.
“Fuck,” he muttered to himself, rolling over and burying his face in his pillow.
The anger and bitterness that had fueled him for weeks were still there, but they were being drowned out by something else—you.
Rafe’s resolve had been wavering for days, but he pushed the guilt aside as he drove to campus the next morning. He was picking you up before class, something that had become a bit of a routine. It was a small gesture, but one that made you smile every time, and Rafe had to admit, he looked forward to seeing that smile.
When he pulled up to your dorm, you were already waiting outside, your bag slung over your shoulder. You looked different from when he first met you—still shy, but with a confidence that hadn’t been there before. It was subtle, but Rafe noticed.
He noticed everything about you these days.
“Hey,” you said as you slid into the passenger seat, giving him that small smile that always made his chest tighten a little. “Thanks for picking me up.”
“Anytime,” he replied smoothly, shifting the car into gear. “Ready for another day of fun and learning?”
You rolled your eyes playfully, but there was a lightness in your expression that hadn’t been there a month ago. “If by fun, you mean trying not to fall asleep in econ, then yeah, totally ready.”
He chuckled, glancing over at you as he pulled onto the road. “I’m starting to think you secretly enjoy econ. You’re just trying to maintain your cool, indifferent persona.”
You laughed, the sound genuine and free, and Rafe felt that unfamiliar pang in his chest again.
“Yeah, that’s me. The cool, indifferent econ nerd.”
“See? I knew it,” Rafe teased, but there was an edge of something else in his voice, something he couldn’t quite shake.
The drive to campus was easy, filled with light conversation and the comfortable silence that had developed between you two. When you arrived, he parked in his usual spot, but instead of getting out right away, you turned to him, your expression suddenly serious.
“Rafe, can I ask you something?”
He froze for a split second, his mind racing. Had you figured it out? Did you know about the bet? But he quickly forced a casual smile, nodding.
“Sure sweets, what’s up?”
You hesitated, chewing on your lower lip, a habit he’d noticed you had when you were nervous.
“Why did you kiss me?”
Rafe’s heart pounded in his chest. This was the moment he’d been dreading—the moment when you’d start questioning everything. He couldn’t afford to slip up now.
“Why not?” he said, his tone light, but there was a hint of sincerity that even he didn’t expect. “I like you. I like being around you.”
You looked at him, your eyes searching his, trying to find the truth in his words. Rafe held your gaze, doing his best to keep his expression open and honest. After a moment, you nodded, as if you’d decided to believe him.
“Okay,” you said. “I just... I didn’t want to assume, y’know? It’s just... new.”
“Good new, though, right?”
“Yeah,” you admitted, “Good new.”
The rest of the day passed in a blur, with classes, coffee breaks, and more of Rafe’s effortless charm. But that moment in the car stuck with him. You were starting to get closer, to trust him, and every time you did, the guilt fucked with his head a little more.
Later that day, when the two of you met up for a late lunch, he noticed the way you had begun to attract attention from others. Some guys glanced your way, clearly noticing the changes in you, and a few girls even stopped to chat with you—a far cry from the shy girl he’d first approached in the library.
As you two sat down at a table outside the campus cafe, he saw the way your eyes lit up when you spotted someone approaching. It was Leila, a girl from your cheer squad. She waved and came over, sitting down.
“Hey, you two,” she greeted, her eyes flicking between you and Rafe. “Mind if I join?”
“Sure,” you said, scooting over to make room for her. He nodded, keeping his expression neutral, but there was something about the way Leila looked at you that put him on edge.
The conversation flowed easily, with her complimenting you on something you’d done at practice the other day, and you blushing at the praise.
Rafe watched, a small smile on his face, but his mind was elsewhere. He could see how much you were changing, how you were starting to come into your own, and it was becoming harder and harder to justify what he was doing.
When Leila left after a few minutes, you turned to Rafe with a grin. “She’s nice. I didn’t think she even noticed me before.”
“She notices you now,” Rafe replied, his voice quieter than usual.
You looked at him, your smile fading slightly. “Is something wrong?”
Rafe hesitated for a moment, then shook his head. “No, nothing. Just... thinking.”
“About what?”
He leaned back in his chair. “About how you’re starting to steal everyone’s attention here. What am I gonna do when you’re the most popular one around here?”
You laughed, shaking your head. “I don’t think that’s gonna happen anytime soon.”
Rafe smiled back, but the guilt was back, stronger than ever. You were starting to trust him, to believe in the friendship he was offering, and it was killing him.
As the afternoon wore on, he found himself more and more distracted by his thoughts. He needed to talk to someone about it, someone who knew the score.
Later that evening, after dropping you off at your dorm, he called Kelce. The phone rang a few times before his friend picked up, sounding slightly out of breath.
“Yo, Cameron. What’s up?”
Rafe took a deep breath, leaning against the side of his car. “I need to talk, man. About the bet.”
Kelce laughed, clearly not picking up on the seriousness in Rafe’s voice. “What, you already feeling bad for her? Didn’t think you’d go soft so fast.”
Rafe frowned, running a hand through his hair. “It’s not that. It’s just... I didn’t think it’d be like this. She’s... she’s actually really nice, Kelce. Like, genuinely nice.”
There was a pause on the other end of the line before Kelce responded, his tone more serious.
“Dude, we all knew she was nice. That’s what makes this so good. You’re flipping the script. Just remember why you’re doing it.”
Rafe let out a frustrated sigh. “I know, but... She trusts me."
And I trust her, he wanted to add, but didn't.
“Look, Rafe, you’re in too deep to back out now. If you quit, she’ll still get hurt, and you’ll look like a fucking idiot. You gotta see this through. Just... keep your eye on the prize, okay? It’s not about her, it’s about Jessica.”
Rafe nodded, even though Kelce couldn’t see him. “Yeah... yeah, you’re right. I just needed to clear my head.”
“Good,” Kelce said. “Now go get some sleep or something. We’ve got a party this weekend, and I wanna see you back on your game.”
“Yeah, sure. Thanks, man.”
By Friday, the campus was buzzing with weekend plans, and you were in a good mood, chatting excitedly about some party that night. You two were in the cafeteria, grabbing lunch, when it happened.
You were waiting in line for food, and Rafe had stepped aside to check his phone. When he glanced up, he saw a guy approaching you—a guy he recognized from the football team. A sleazy bastard.
The guy leaned in, flashing you a charming smirk, clearly trying to flirt. He wanted to pummel his face to the wall. Rafe watched from a distance as the guy made you laugh, his hand casually resting on the counter next to yours. Too fucking close.
The sight made something twist in his chest, something dark and possessive that he hadn’t expected. He'd never felt like this before. His grip tightened around his phone as he watched, his jaw clenching.
You seemed flattered but a little uncomfortable, your smile not quite reaching your eyes. Rafe could tell you weren’t used to this kind of attention, and it made him feel something primal, something that burned hotter than the guilt. He wanted to go over there, to tell that guy to back the fuck off, but he didn’t. Instead, he stood there, seething, trying to keep his cool.
Scaring you away was the last thing he wanted to do.
When the guy finally walked away, you looked relieved, but Rafe was already moving. He crossed the cafeteria in quick strides, his eyes locked on you, his heart pounding. You spotted him coming and smiled, but it fell when you saw the look on his face.
“Rafe, what’s—”
He didn’t let you finish. Before you could say another word, he was right in front of you, his hand cupping your face as he pulled you toward him.
And then he kissed you.
It wasn’t like the kiss outsider your dorm. This was different. It was fierce, almost desperate as if he needed to prove something to himself, to you, and to everyone watching. His lips moved against yours with intensity, his other hand gripping your waist, pulling you closer. He didn’t care who was around, who was watching.
All he cared about was you, right there, in his arms.
You froze for a second, caught off guard by the suddenness of it, but then you melted into him, your hands clutching at his shirt as you kissed him back with equal fervor. It was like all the tension, all the confusion, everything that had been building between you two, finally snapped.
Rafe deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding against yours, claiming you in a way that left no room for doubt. His fingers tangled in your hair, and you let out a soft moan that only made him kiss you harder, his body pressing against yours like he couldn’t get enough.
People around you were definitely watching now, whispering, some even cheering, but Rafe didn’t care. He didn’t pull away until he was breathless, and even then, he stayed close, his forehead resting against yours, his breathing heavy. When he finally opened his eyes, he saw the way you were looking at him—dazed, flushed, your lips slightly swollen from the intensity of the kiss.
“What... what was that?” you asked, your voice shaky, your eyes searching his for answers.
Rafe knew he should say something, explain himself, but all he could think about was how much he wanted to kiss you again. Instead, he just shook his head slightly, a small smirk tugging at his lips.
“Just couldn’t help myself,” he murmured, his voice low and rough.
You blinked up at him, still trying to process what had just happened, but there was no mistaking the way your body was responding to him.
He finally stepped back, but kept his hand on your waist, grounding you as he looked around. Sure enough, the guy from earlier was watching.
Rafe caught his eye, giving him a look that said everything without words. She’s mine.
When he looked back at you, he saw the confusion in your eyes and something else—something that looked a lot like longing.
He knew he’d just crossed a line, again, but in that moment, he didn’t care. All he cared about was the way you felt in his arms, the way you looked at him like he was the only guy in the world.
“C’mon,” Rafe said, his voice softer now. “We’ve got class.”
You nodded, still a little dazed, and let him guide you out of the cafeteria, his hand never leaving yours. He was in deeper than ever, but he couldn’t bring himself to regret it. Not when you looked at him like that, not when his heart was pounding like this.
As you approached the building where your next class was, he stopped, turning to face you. He touched your cheek again, his thumb brushing against your skin, and you leaned into his touch.
“Rafe—”
“You’re my girl,” he whispered, his forehead pressing against yours again. “Okay?”
You nodded, your breath hitching as you looked up at him, your eyes wide and trusting. Rafe knew he was on the edge of something he couldn’t control, but as he leaned in for one more kiss, slow and tender this time, he realized he didn’t care.
“Rafe…” you began again, speaking against his lips. There was so much you wanted to say, so much you needed to understand about what you were, what you two were becoming. His thumb traced the curve of your jawline.
“You don’t have to say anything,” he whispered, his voice low, almost reverent. “I just… I need you to know that you mean something to me. This, us—"
“Okay.”
He was already in too deep.
And just like that, he got what he wanted.
The next day, everything seemed to fall into place as if the universe has finally aligned for you. He asked you out, and just like that, you were together.
The next two months were a dream—utter bliss. You weren’t just happy; you were radiant. You’d become the most popular girl in school, and with him by your side, it felt like you were living in some sort of fairy tale.
Every smile he gave you, every touch, every whispered confession of how perfect you were sent you soaring higher. He couldn’t get enough of you—your sweetness, your kindness, your genuine heart. It was as if he was falling more and more in love with you every single day. And you, you had never felt this alive.
But deep down, in a place he didn’t dare acknowledge, there was a shadow, a sliver of guilt that he pushed aside every time he looked into your trusting eyes.
He never officially ended the bet with Kelce and Topper. It was just a stupid game, something that seemed so insignificant compared to what he feels for you now. He told himself that he had forgotten about it, that it didn’t matter anymore.
After all, what you two had is real, right? And you, completely oblivious to the sinister origins of your relationship, continued to believe in the fairy tale.
Until it ended.
⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷⁀➷ೃ
It’s after cheerleading practice, and you’re alone in the locker room, stuffing your things into your bag. The air is thick with the scent of sweat and body spray, the usual post-practice atmosphere, but there’s something different today—a tension you can’t quite place.
As you’re zipping up your bag, you hear voices nearby, just around the corner. Leila and Jessica, their conversation low but unmistakable. You wouldn’t normally eavesdrop, but something about the tone of their voices makes you pause, your heart suddenly beating a little faster.
"You were right," Leila says, her voice edged with a cruel satisfaction. "About your gut feeling with Rafe and his new girl."
Oh.
Jessica sounds tired, almost defeated. "What do you mean?"
Leila sighs, a dark amusement in her tone. "Kelce spilled everything when we hooked up last week. He was too high to keep his mouth shut. Rafe’s been playing her this whole time, using her to mess with you. It was all a bet."
The words hit you like a punch to the gut. Your breath catches in your throat, and for a moment, you can’t move, can’t think. The room spins around you, the ground shifting beneath your feet.
No. No, this can’t be real.
Leila’s voice continues, completely unaware of the devastation she’s causing. "It's so fucked up. She has no idea. She’s out there thinking he’s her Prince Charming, and all along it was just some sick game."
Jessica doesn’t say anything, but you can’t bear to hear more. You feel like you’re suffocating, your chest tightening as panic floods your system.
Before you know it, you’re running—out of the locker room, down the hall, anywhere to get away from those words, those horrible, soul-crushing words. Tears blur your vision as you stumble outside, gasping for air, for some kind of escape from the nightmare that’s suddenly become your reality.
The ache in your chest doesn’t fade as you bolt from the locker room, tears hot on your cheeks. You don’t know where you’re going, but you know you can’t stop moving. The hallways blur past you as you wipe at your eyes, struggling to catch your breath. Rage and heartbreak twist inside you like a knife, and before you know it, you find yourself standing outside the gym, where the sounds of basketball practice echo through the double doors.
You push through the doors without thinking, your heart pounding in your ears. The gym is full of movement—squeaking sneakers, the thud of the ball against the court, and the grunts of effort as the players practice their drills. But all of it fades into the background as soon as your eyes lock onto Rafe.
He’s in the middle of a play, dribbling the ball down the court with that intense focus you’ve always admired. For a moment, you hesitate, that familiar warmth of seeing him almost enough to make you stop. But then the memory of Leila’s words slams into you like a wave, and the anger surges back, drowning out everything else.
You storm across the gym, your footsteps heavy on the polished floor. Some of the players notice you, their eyes widening in surprise, but you don’t care. You’re beyond caring. The only thing that matters is confronting him, making him face what he’s done.
"Cameron!" you shout, your voice sharp, cutting through the noise of the practice.
He turns at the sound of your voice, surprise flashing across his face. The ball slips from his hands, bouncing away as the other players stop, confusion rippling through the group. You always call him by his name.
The coach starts to say something, but you barely hear him. All you can see is Rafe, standing there, looking at you with those eyes that you once thought held nothing but affection for you.
Now, all you see is a liar.
“What’s wrong baby?” He jogs over to you, his brow furrowing.
You don’t answer immediately, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you try to hold yourself together.
But it’s impossible.
“Was I a bet?”
His expression changes from confusion to something closer to horror, his mouth opening as if to say something, but nothing comes out. The sound of your voice, trembling with disbelief and pain, seems to have stunned him into silence.
For a moment, you just stare at each other. You want him to deny it, to laugh and tell you it’s all some terrible misunderstanding. But deep down, you already know the truth. You saw it in his eyes the second he turned to face you, that flicker of guilt, that flash of something wildly desperate.
He reaches for you, his voice breaking. "Baby, wait, let me explain—”
“Was I a fucking bet?” you repeat, your voice louder this time, edged with a desperate, frantic energy that you can’t control. You take a step back as he tries to get closer, every muscle in your body screaming to get away from him, to escape the unbearable weight of the truth.
His eyes are pleading, searching yours for something, anything that might make this easier, but there’s nothing. No words, no excuses that can make this hurt any less.
“It started as a bet,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper, but to you, it’s as loud as a gunshot. “But it’s not like that, I swear. I—”
“What the hell is wrong with you?!”
He flinches at your words, pain flashing across his face, but you can’t stop. It’s like all the anger, all the heartbreak, all the humiliation you’ve been choking down is pouring out of you in a torrent, and you don’t have the strength to hold it back. You can see the panic rising in him, the desperation as he realizes just how badly he’s messed up. He takes another step toward you, his hand reaching out, but you jerk away,
“We’re done.”
“Please, just listen,” he pleads, his voice cracking.
“No.”
And with that, you leave.
Rafe’s voice echoes behind you as you walk away, but you refuse to look back. The gym doors swing shut, muffling the sounds of the practice resuming, and you’re left in the eerily quiet hallway, your breath coming in ragged gasps.
The locker room is cold and empty when you push open the door. The scent of body spray and sweat lingers in the air. You head straight to your locker again, hands trembling as you fumble with the lock, desperate to escape. But before you can get it open, the door swings wide behind you, and you know, without turning around, that he followed you.
“Go away,” you say, your voice barely holding steady.
“I can��t,” he says, his voice strained with desperation. “Not like this.”
You spin around, your eyes blazing with anger. “You don’t get to decide that. You used me! And for what? Some sick joke with your friends?”
He takes a step closer, his hands raised as if to placate you, but you back away, your heart pounding. “I know I messed up,” he says, his voice thick with regret. “I know I should’ve told you the truth, but I—”
“But you didn’t,” you cut him off, your voice rising. “You let me believe that you cared about me, that everything was real, and all the while it was just a game to you. You and your friends laughed in my face the entire time, didn’t you?”
“It wasn’t a game,” he insists, his voice cracking. “It wasn't supposed to be like this, okay? This wasn't the plan. I changed. Being with you... it was the only thing that felt real to me.”
You shake your head, tears welling up in your eyes. “I don’t believe you.”
Rafe looks at you, his expression torn between guilt and desperation.
“It wasn’t a joke. It started as a stupid bet, but I never expected to actually—” He broke off, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “I care about you. That’s real.”
For a moment, you see the boy who had made you feel special, who had made you believe in something more. But it's not enough.
“I don’t even know who you are."
You want to believe him, to take solace in the idea that some part of what you had was real, but you can't. You shake your head again, a sob choking you as you turn away from him, your back pressing against the cold metal of the locker.
“It isn’t supposed to hurt like this,” you whisper, more to yourself than to him. “It’s not supposed to feel like a knife in your chest.”
Rafe takes another step closer, “Please, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his voice breaking. “Just give me a chance to make this right.”
"You don’t get to have a chance. You don’t get to pretend this is some kind of love story. You lied to me. You used me.”
You look at him then, really look at him, and all you see is the boy who broke your heart. The boy who turned your world upside down with a single lie. You know that if you stay, if you let him talk, you might be tempted to forgive him. But you can’t.
Not this time.
With a deep breath, you straighten up, wiping away the tears that have stained your cheeks. “I’m done.”
“Don’t say that,” he pleads, his voice thick with desperation.
But you’ve made up your mind.
“I mean it. We’re done. I need you to stay away from me.”
The words hit him like a physical blow, and for a moment, he just stands there, staring at you as if he can’t believe what you’re saying.
But then he sees the resolve in your eyes, the finality in your tone, and he knows there’s no coming back from this.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers, his voice hoarse. “I’m so sorry.”
Without another word, you turn away from him, pushing past the locker room door and walking away. You hesitate for a split second. A small voice inside you screams to turn back, to give him one more chance, but then you imagine the laughter, the cruel satisfaction.
The image of Rafe with his friends, laughing at your expense, sears itself into your mind.
The door slams shut behind him, and he leans against it, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps. He doesn’t feel victorious. Instead, there’s a hollowness, a quiet whisper in the back of his mind that asks, “What now?” He clenches his fists, trying to silence it, but the emptiness remains.
This time, he doesn’t follow you.
#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron au#rafe x reader#rafe angst#rafe cameron angst#angsty#just angst#rafe fic#rafe outer banks#rafe imagine#outerbanks rafe#rafe obx#i miss rafe#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron outer banks#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron imagines#rafe cameron fic
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Where’s my Wife?
Summary: Being pregnant Daryl made sure you were always safe but when the wall of Alexandria fell you had no choice but to run, when Daryl gets back he’s stressed trying to find you
Pairing: Daryl Dixon x f!reader
•Masterlist•

“Are you sure you have to go?” I asked running my hand through his hair, feeling him gently lean into my touch
“I gotta go, I’m doin this for you and the baby, can’t risk them walkers gettin out and headin here” he said as he gripped my hips
“Okay but just….just be careful okay? Please come back to me…to us”
“I’ll be back sunshine” he smiled as he got on his bike, the smile that was reserved for me and me only
“I love you D”
“Luv ya too” and with that he was off following Abraham and Sasha
It took a long time for Daryl to be comfortable with saying I love you, I never pressured him I knew what he’s been through and that this whole relationship thing was new to him so we went at his pace, we met at the quarry first when the world went to hell, he found me in the woods alone about to get eaten by a walker but he was there in time shooting the walker in the head with an arrow, since then he’s protected me, first our relationship was quiet just spending time together in silence, but slowly he got more confidence and started being back little gifts from his trips, flowers, bracelet, my favourite drinks and snacks I had mentioned, eventually along the way I became his girl, everyone in our group knew it and didn’t dare do anything that could risk my life
Walking along the streets I made my way towards the communal kitchen craving some chocolate, hopefully Carol was there to let me have a whole bar
Walking through the door the cool air hit me, refreshing from the hot summer heat
“Hey sweetie, are they gone already?” Carol asked as she was rummaging through the food supplies
“Yeah I don’t know something feels off, I’m just nervous I can’t lose him Carol” I sigh sitting on a chair after taking the chocolate out of the fridge, my legs aching from the extra weight
“There’s always a risk going out there but it’s Daryl, he always comes back, just try to get your mind off of it…..how’s the baby?”
“Oh she’s good, kicking a lot, she loves when Daryl talks to her”
“Her?”
“Just a feeling, call it mothers intuition”
“I never would have guessed that thee Daryl Dixon would be having a baby, you’ve really changed him, he’s the happiest with you”
“Thanks Carol, means a lot…I should probably go watch the perimeter, Daryl told me to take it easy”
“Okay be careful hun”
I walked the back wall for a while everything was secure except a little opening at the bottom of one of the panels, it wasn’t too big, not big enough for a walker to slide through so I thought nothing of it, that is until screamed started erupting in the streets, seeing men dressed in black murdering people left and right, I didn’t have enough time to get to a house so I went to the opening in the fence, I kicked it a few times inching it open just a bit more, trying to crawl through desperately feeling the fence cut up my side but this was my only choice to live to protect both me and the baby, finally I got through running through the woods, dodging any walkers that were in the path, eventually I made it to a tree house Daryl had showed me a little farther out of Alexandria, climbing the tree as best I could being exhausted and 8 months pregnant
Slumping down in the run down tree house, feeling the adrenaline wear off, who were those people? Who did they hurt and kill? Where was Daryl and how was I gonna get back when I didn’t know when it was safe
Taking a few breaths to calm myself knowing all this stress and pressure on the baby wasn’t good and I couldn’t afford to go into premature labour, the sun was finally setting and the weather was becoming colder, thankfully there was a few blankets in the corner we had brought out here for when we needed a get away
The crickets eventually lulled me to sleep, hoping that when I woke in the morning everything would be okay again
Daryl pov
After getting shot and the walkers breaking off I just need to get home to protect the only one I’ve every truly loved, she gave me hope when I was finally giving up being pushed around by Merle, when I found her in the woods I knew she was special, never in my life did someone make me feel safe and loved, it was confusing but she never pressured me, then the day on the road she told me she was pregnant I was terrified, we were exhausted low on food and water and she was the only thing keeping me from going off the deep end but she never lost hope that we’d find a home again and like magic the next day we were in Alexandria
The three of us got back to Alexandria to it being run over by walkers, with quick thinking we set the lake on fire and finished off the remaining walkers, running everywhere i screamed for her, slowly the sun was rising when carol came up to me, thankful she was still okay
“Carol have ya seen y/n? I can’t find her”
“I don’t know she came by the kitchen and then she went to watch the perimeter she said then all those wolves came in and I tried to look for her but there was no time”
I ran to the back wall knowing that’s where she usually watched since it had the most shade, finally getting there I searched the wall noticing a break, looking closer there was blood on the ground and covering the edge of the metal, I smashed it open more throwing my crossbow out first before I pushed through, she had to be out her there’s no way I’ve lost her
Normal POV
The sun beamed through the opening of the tree house waking me from the half decant sleep I had, throwing the dusty blanket to the side I sat up groaning as I forgot about the jagged cut that littered my side
Gazing out of the opening making sure the coast was clear I slowly maneuvered my way down the tree cautious of the baby and my wound, my feet hit the ground and an immense pain shot through my belly as my legs became covered in liquid
“Oh no”
She had decided this was the perfect moment to come out, panicked I made my way back to Alexandria hoping everything has settled and the one person I need right now is back home
As I was making my way through the forest twigs snapped alerting me of something, rather it be a walker than one of those people, but when I approached the noise a shaggy haired man came into few and my heart leapt
“Daryl!” I sighed in relief right before a contraction ripped through my body, leaning against a tree groaning as the pain grew
“Angel what’s wrong?” He asked scared as his hand pressed against my back
“She’s coming Daryl, little Dixon is on her way, the stress must have triggered this”
“I’ll get ya both home and safe” he picked me up like I weighed a feather until we were at the gates
“I was so worried about you D, those men attacked and I didn’t know what was happening I just knew I had to protect myself and this baby”
“Shit happened I wanted to come back but couldn’t risk it, I was lookin all night fer ya” he said laying me down on the bed of the little infirmary
“I’m just glad you’re back”
Hours of excrutiating pain came to an end when the sound of little cries echoed in the room
“She’s here, ya were right sunshine” Daryl smiled as he held our little girl close, wrapping her in a little white blanket
He sat on the bed next to me showing me the most adorable baby I’ve ever laid my eyes on
“She’s beautiful D! What should we name her?”
“How bought Lexi?” His suggestion shocked me
“Really? Why Lexi?”
“Don’t know always liked it I guess”
“Then Lexi it is, our little baby girl Lexi!”
#twd fanfiction#twd daryl#daryl dixion imagine#twd x reader#daryl dixon#twd fluff#daryl dixon x reader#twd negan#twd rick#daryl dixon twd#daryl dixion smut#daryl x reader#daryl imagines#daryl fanfiction#daryl dixon smut#the walking dead daryl#daryl x female reader#daryl dixon x you#daryl dixon x y/n#daryl dixon x female reader#twd carol
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Vicious
Dbf!Joel Miller x f!reader

Masterlist ★ Wordcount: 1.8k
📽 —★ Summary: In the quiet solitude of your own home, you revel in the rare freedom of an empty house, indulging in forbidden pleasures on a hot summer day. The unexpected arrival of your dads buddy Joel turns your casual rebellion into something far more thrilling.
📽 —★ Warnings: 18+, mdni, reader is in college but is called a "school girl", wears a uniform that has a skirt. Joel and reader are both kinda assholes to each other. Mentions of smoking cigarettes and drinking beer, age gap (reader is early 20's, Joel is whatever you would like but in my mind 40's or older) p in v, uses of slut and whore, in this world and my daydreams Joel is able to get off multiple times without a break (I am not going for supreme accuracy I am going for porn), if I missed anything please let me know
📽 —★ Notes: Hello, welcome to my comeback fic. Please note that I am very rusty since posting my last fic in July 🫠 but I am very excited to be back writing, reading and posting once again! I hope you enjoy. I've missed being here with all you lovely humans so much 🥹
📽 —★ A big thank you to my wonderful friends for reading/hyping me: @milla-frenchy @evolnoomym @thundermartini and @syd-djarin who also helped me with the mood board 💋 love you all so much. And of course @saradika-graphics for the lovely divider
“I’m home!” you shout the second you walk in the door. Dead silent, no response. You shrug as you make your way to your room but pause halfway up the stairs. No one. That means you can do whatever the hell you want. You walk back down, throwing your backpack to the floor an head to the kitchen, grabbing one of your dad's beers from the fridge, taking it out to the deck. You retrieve your hidden cigarette pack taped beneath the table outside. You grab a cigarette and light it up as you lean back in the chair, opening your legs until your feet rest on either side of the lawnchair. After a stressful day at school, you need some kind of relief. Plus, your schoolgirl uniform is much too uncomfortable on a hot summer day, causing you to undo the top few buttons of your white blouse, allowing the small but cool breeze to graze your exposed skin.
“I always thought you were a bit of a slut.”
You look up to see your dad’s buddy Joel leaning in the doorway, a lit cigarette hanging from his mouth as well. Instead of jumping up, snapping your legs shut, or covering your chest, you give him the finger. That guy can go fuck himself.
“And so polite too.”
“Joel, the last thing I need right now is you and your opinion. School sucked, and I don’t give a shit what you think of me.”
“Christ, kid, I was only fucking with you. I mean, you do look trashy as hell, but that’s okay. I like trashy.”
“Are you hitting on me now? Really? You’re like seventy.”
“Try again sweetheart,” he says, stepping out onto the deck. You try to ignore him as he walks closer until he stops directly in front of you.
“You like the view, asshole?”
“I don’t know,” he says, leaning down and tilting his head. “I wouldn’t have guessed white. I mean, you don’t seem like the innocent type. More like a black satin sort of girl.”
“Oh, don’t you know?” you reply, taking a drag from your cigarette. “We have to wear white panties too. They check us every morning. We line up in a row, and they make us lift our skirts so they can see what we have on under them.”
“I’ll have to see if they have any openings. Sounds like a good job.”
“Oh fuck you. Besides, you wouldn’t know what to do with one of us, let alone three hundred.”
The bastard sinks down until he’s squatting in front of your now wet panties, still smoking as he admires the view. You finally reach down, open your legs wider, and give him the finger with your hand right in front of your cunt. If he wants to look, he can fucking look at that.
“If you didn’t want me, you’d be in the house already instead of sitting there with those pretty legs open.”
“Is that what you think?” you ask, trembling in spite of yourself. He’s a huge dick, but he’s also right. You do like teasing him, and the thought of him going home and jerking off over you is fun.
“I know it,” he says, sitting down at the bottom of the chair.
“And what would you do with a girl like me? I’ve probably had more sex than you’ll ever have. Better sex too.”
“What, with some stupid school boy who fucks like a jackhammer, hoping he’s found the right hole?”
You look at him, rolling your eyes and shaking your head before butting your cigarette.
“Why don’tcha unbutton that shirt some more? Let me see how you’ve filled out.”
“Jesus Christ. What do you think my dad would say if he saw you eyeing his daughter up and down like a piece of meat?”
“What do you think he’d do if he saw you sitting here spread eagle, smoking a cigarette and drinking his beer? His sweet little angel, showin’ off for his friend?" he responds playfully, raising his eyebrows.
You sit up in the chair, never breaking his gaze as you undo the next two buttons of your blouse, revealing your naked chest.
“You’re not going to do a thing,” you say, reaching down and opening your shirt just enough for him to get a glimpse. “You’re going to sit there and drool over my body.”
“Is that whatcha think?” he chuckles. “What's actually going to happen is that I'm going to bend you over and fuck you until you cry.”
“You’d probably come the second you got a glimpse of my pussy. I bet you’re so hard right now you can barely think."
“Try me,” he says, moving up between your legs. His hand now under your skirt.
“Let go and I’ll show you,” you say, your voice nearly catching in your throat. He moves his hand in an instant. You reach down, gently touching the lips around your clit through the thin white fabric. Joel watches the entire time, never taking his eyes off of your hand. “Is this what you want?” you say, pulling the white cotton to one side, exposing your pussy to his greedy eyes.
“It’s a start,” he replies as he moves closer. He lifts your legs up over his knees. You are silent as he unzips his pants, and as much as you try not to watch, you can’t help yourself. He reaches in, and in one fluid motion, his cock juts out of his boxers.
“Jesus,” you say as he begins to stroke himself slowly. He’s only partially hard, but his cock is big and thick, and you are on dangerous ground.
“Just like those high school boys?” he asks, reaching out, grabbing you around the waist. Before you can protest, he pulls you up onto his lap, his hard cock stuck between your pussy and his stomach. His other hand joins the first until his fingers dig into the cheeks of your ass. His face is inches from you.
“You don’t have the nerve,” you say, not willing to look away.
Joel wastes no time as he tears your blouse open, the last remaining buttons flying off as he pulls it down over your shoulders, your bare breasts now fully visible. He tugs it down even further until it slides off your arms, leaving you topless.
“I’m going to fuck you, baby. I’m going to push those panties to one side, shove my big cock in you, and then listen to you scream.”
“I’ll tell my dad,” you whisper.
“No you won’t,” he says, sliding his hand all the way beneath you. As he holds you tight, he slips his fingers beneath your panties and then inside your now soaking wet pussy, working them in and out for a few seconds before bringing his hand up to your mouth and pushing his fingers between your lips. You gladly lick your excitement off his thick digits, feeling his large cock grow against you.
“You’re going to come in seconds," you whisper. “If you even make it inside me. You have no idea how sweet my little cunt is."
“Guess we’ll have to find out. But first, let’s see if you’re right, or if you’re just a filthy little slut who needs another dick.”
Before you can think of a response, he lifts you up, pushing your panties to one side, and then guides his large cock into you. In one swift motion, he’s deep inside of you, and you are on his lap. You try to suppress a moan as he pulls you closer.
“You knew this was going to happen the second you saw me. And so did I,” he adds.
He begins to move slowly, feeling him slide in and out of you each time you tighten your grip. Fuck, he feels good; his cock hitting your walls in all the right places. It’s not fair.
“And you’re a whore,” he says, moving his mouth down your chin, making his way down your neck.
“You’re an asshole,” you mutter, causing him to thrust harder.
“Which is why you’re letting me fuck you.” His hands run through your hair, gripping it in his hand as he continues to fuck you. You moan louder, trying to hold back a scream as his fingers grip tighter and tighter around your hair. You can feel his balls throbbing against you as his breath quickens. You are on fire as his cock pumps into your wet, hot, sensitive pussy, causing both of you to groan loudly. You can tell he’s close to his own release; you can feel your pussy convulsing, and you start moving on him harder. He grabs your hips, holding you still as he pounds himself into you. His balls clench tight as he groans loudly in ecstasy, his breath harsh with lust. His climax soon follows after, rope after rope of hot liquid exploding inside of you. He stays buried inside of you as the orgasm takes over him completely. After a few moments of catching his breath, Joel looks at you and mutters between breaths, "Just because I came doesn’t mean I’m done with you.”
And then he pulls out of you, flipping you over, pushing you down onto the deck chair and your panties to the side so you can feel him against you, his cock still dripping. But then, somehow, he’s back inside of you, fucking you into the fabric of the chair. “You might be cute, but that doesn’t mean I’m gonna stop.”
“Oh fuck,” you gasp, feeling his weight against you, pinning you down. When he reaches an arm around your neck, you begin to moan. Oh god, don’t stop Joel. Don’t stop fucking me; I’m gonna come.”
“That’s right, baby. Come for me. Come like the little slut you are.”
“Fuck!” you cry out, feeling yourself let go completely. You shake and tremble as you clench around him. His breath picks up as he’s close to his own orgasm.
“I’m going to come in this pussy one more time.”
“No!” you beg, needing to at least pretend to resist when in fact you don't want this to ever end. The thought of him coming in you again makes your pussy tighten in anticipation. Then finally, when it seems he won't ever come inside of you, he does. Your entire body begins trembling, fighting against another orgasm. As you feel him pull out of you, he turns you over, putting his hand in your panties and cupping your cheek. Your eyes open wide, and you can feel the warm liquid dripping from your thighs. He looks down at his own cock. It too has started to twitch.
“Look at the mess you made," he whispers, placing the tip of his cock into the wetness. "You'd better clean this up before someone sees. You're going to lick every drop,” he commands. You nod. "Good girl."
As you place kisses along his cock, licking away any remaining semen, Joel watches in amusement. You stand up, looking up at him.
“Are you satisfied?" you ask.
“For now," he smirks, turning towards the house. "See ya tomorrow." With that, he goes up the porch steps, his back to you and makes his way home, only to be back tomorrow, and the next day, and the day after.
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The spell worked, sort of, but not how I wanted. I did have the body of my dreams – I was Garrett now, but I didn’t realize the catch was that I wouldn’t be able to control what I’m doing unless I’m totally alone. And Garrett, or, me, I guess – I’m nearly never alone! The frat house pretty much always has someone in it, and I’m super popular, too. I thought being Garrett would be fun and easy, but stuck like this, it’s torture!
I figured out the ritual from this old book I found at that occult shop downtown, thinking it would be a quick way out of my boring life and into something… well, something way more interesting. Garrett had it all, or so I thought. Girls loved him, he was in the best shape, and everyone wanted to be his friend. But nobody told me about this weird restriction, or maybe I just didn’t read that part carefully enough. I guess the idea was I’d “experience” Garrett’s life, but it’s like watching a movie, except I’m the star and I can only move on my own terms when no one else is around.
And god, my roommate, he’s actually so stupid. When I can’t control my actions, we bro out all the time, but he’s so vapid. I guess I’m not much better, but it’s actually infuriating. You’d think we could have a conversation that’s not about girls, parties, sports, or video games. But no, every time he starts talking, it’s like Garrett’s body just falls right into the rhythm of it, responding automatically. I tried fighting it at first, but it’s like this autopilot takes over, and I’m just... stuck.
I’ve been scouring the room whenever I get a chance to control things, like right now, looking for any sign or clue on how to undo this. There has to be something I missed. I rummaged through his messy closet, which is packed with clothes, gym stuff, and random junk, none of it useful. The guy keeps his stuff in total chaos, and I feel weirdly exposed, like I’m actually pawing through my own things.
Shit, no, is that the door jangling? I thought I would have a couple of hours to try and figure out how to fix this. Who the hell knows when I’ll get another chan-
Fuuck, bro. Why’s my roomie home early? Thought he went to his ‘rents for the weekend. I was just about to jerk one out too. Ah well, maybe he’ll be down for some Call of Duty or something. I could use a beer.
“Yo, dude, what’s up? You back already?” I say, grinning like an idiot as I lean against the door frame, flexing a bit without even realizing it. Dude probably thinks I’m just chillin’, but nah, I’m feelin' like a boss.
He laughs, dropping his bag by the door and shrugging. “Yeah, man, got bored at home. Figured I’d head back early. Parents were driving me nuts.”
“Oh, for sure, dude,” I nod, grabbing a can of beer from the mini-fridge by my bed. “Parents, am I right? They just don’t get it, bro.” I crack it open, chugging half of it in one go, feeling the cool rush. Damn, that’s good.
He slaps my shoulder, laughing. “Dude, I swear, it’s like every time I go back, it’s the same speech about responsibility and blah blah blah. Like, whatever, right?”
“Oh, totally, man,” I laugh, shrugging it off. “Why they gotta be like that, y’know? We’re just out here living, they don’t get it.” I toss him a beer, feeling that chill vibe kickin’ in, like nothing in the world matters but just hanging with my bro. This is what it’s all about – no worries, no drama, just cold beers and good times.
“Bro, I’m feelin’ a COD sesh,” I say, grabbing the controller off the couch. “You down?”
He grins. “Hell yeah, let’s wreck some noobs.”
We crash down on the couch, controllers in hand, beers in easy reach, and it’s like all the worries in the world just melt away. I’m trash-talkin’, throwin’ down taunts, and we’re both laughing so hard my sides hurt. I don’t even remember the last time I felt this alive.
“You’re so bad, dude,” I laugh, jabbing him in the ribs as I get another kill. “How are you still this bad?”
“Shut up, bro!” he shoves me back, laughing too, and I’m grinning like an idiot.
Fuck, life is good, I think, as I take a gulp of my beer. I got my bros, I got my beer, and I got my games. What more does a dude need? Life’s good.
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Gender? Who Cares About That?
Billy’s never really been one to really care about gender. Look, if you wanna be a girl, you’re a girl, same if you wanna be a boy. Or at least that’s what he thinks. He just doesn’t get the hype about it. So, whenever he feels like it, he just turns into a girl. No one really cares and he’s been doing it since the sixties so he’ll keep doing it. Well, at least no one cared until nowadays.
Marvel: *in female form picking up some rubble to clear it after a villain attack*
Reporter: “Ma’am!” *trying to flag Marvel down*
Marvel: “Yes, miss?” *carefully puts rubble down*
Reporter: “Hello, ma’am. We at channel five news have been meaning to ask you a few questions. Are you related to Captain Marvel, and if so, are you blood related?”
Marvel: *visible confusion* “Uh… I guess.” *honestly thinks it’s a little funny* “But, miss, I am Captain Marvel.”
Reporter: “Huh…?”
Marvel: “Did you not ask any of the citizens?”
Reporter: *looks to the camera guy before looking back at Billy* “Yes- I’m sorry, I was under the impression Captain Marvel was a man.”
Marvel: “I am.”
Reporter: “Yet you’re a woman…?”
Marvel: “Yeah. Whenever I feel like it, I turn into a girl. Then, whenever I feel like it, I turn into a boy.”
Tourist: “So you’re gender-fluid?”
Marvel: “What is that?” *sounds confused*
Tourist: “Literally just what you described.”
Marvel: “Oh. Then I guess I am. I didn’t know there was a label for it.” *
For reference, female Marvel looks like Marilyn just with blue eyes and black hair. As for why he doesn’t know what gender-fluid means? Well apparently it originated in 1994, and in my AU he was trapped in a time bubble and got out in 2016. He’s an old man guys. He can’t work computers. They’re too overcomplicated. If you were to ask a random citizen from Fawcett, they wouldn’t know either.
Marvel: *back in male form, frosting some cookies at the Watchtower*
Supes: “Cap?”
Marvel: “Yes?”
Supes: “So… uh…” *awkward and looks the other JL members*
Other JL Members: *peaking from behind a corner*
Supes: “We just want you to know we support you.” *awkward smile and pat on shoulder*
Marvel: “Cool? What’re you supporting?”
Supes: “Well you know… Do you really not know why?”
Marvel: “No…?”
*silence*
Marvel: “Do you want a cookie?”
Supes: “Yes, please.”
Yeah, he doesn’t care. Like stated earlier, he doesn’t care, and neither did the Fawcett’s citizens. He didn’t even think this was something that people were supported for. That’s why he had no clue what Clark was talking about.
Marvel and GL: *have monitor duty together*
GL: “So, dude, are you going to the pride parade in Metropolis?”
Marvel: “Why would I go to one of those?”
GL: “Cause you’re gender fluid?”
Marvel: “What?” *already forgot what that meant*
GL: “You know how you switch between girl and boy all the time?”
Marvel: “Ohhhh that. I still don’t see what that has to do with the pride parade.”
GL: “Dude, that’s apart of pride.”
Marvel: “I thought pride was for queers?”
GL: “Yeah. You being gender fluid makes you queer.”
Marvel: “Really?”
GL: “Yup.”
Marvel: “Huh. I had no idea. I guess I could go, but I don’t really wanna go alone. Are you going?”
GL: *nods head* “Me and a couple others.”
Marvel: “ ‘kay, then can I go with you guys?”
GL: “Hell yeah, man!”
Bonus:
Mary does the same thing as Billy! Whenever she turns into a boy though, she looks like Billy because twin power.
#billy batson#shazam#dc captain marvel#captain marvel dc#fawcett city#fawcett comics#fawcett#mary batson#mary bromfield#green lantern#hal jordan#superman#clark kent
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Piece of Jake
Logan has hated his body his entire life. Obese, gay, and a shut in have been a terrible combination for him. He decides becoming his sexy roommate Jake may be just what he needs to build up his confidence.
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I’ve had a crush on Jake for… well forever I guess. I guess that’s one of the perks of being a part of the same class every year since kindergarten; you get to see the cute boys become cute men. Then there was the downside of that, that anybody who bullied you from kindergarten will decide to do it until you graduate. They’ll do it for anything too; being gay, being fat, your race, your wealth. I was lucky enough to get 3 out of the 4 for about 12 years now. However, I’m ready for that to change.
See I was blessed with a fantastic combination of having a slow metabolism, and an anxiety which I decided to soothe with eating. The result has left me to be a 19 year old with a BMI of 42. And yeah, BMI is bullshit if you’re stacked with muscle, but I had the rolls and pudge to prove there was some truth to it. Combine this with the fact that I was more queer than a midnight premier of Rocky Horror, and I came out to be not the most popular guy in school. I thought that would all change once I went to college, but freshman year was hell. I essentially spent the entire time in my dorm room, locked up in the dark and playing video games. But, I guess it wasn’t all that bad.
See, back to Jake. Jake kept his status quo of being one of the top dogs from the ages of 5 to 18. Baseball star, debate captain, and voted “most likely to succeed” by our peers. Top all of that off that he was on of the few people who actually wasn’t a total ass to me, and you can see why I was head over heels for him. He was straight of course, and even if there was a touch of bisexuality in him, he would never be interested in me. Now color me surprised when I found out that not only were we going to the same college, but we got randomly assigned to be roommates in the dorms! I was astounded, it was like there really was an astral force looking out for me.
So for almost the entirety of our freshman year, we chit chatted here and there, but Jake was almost never home. Instead, he was working to get himself into one of the fraternities and move into the house. While I was sad to not have as much time to admire Jake as I would like, that did give me the opportunity to go through his stuff. Mostly his closet. Jake wore the usual clothes you’d expect, hoodies, jerseys, wrangler jeans and the like. However, being that he was on the baseball team at the college, I found his stash of jockstraps he wore for practice. And good god, thank goodness laundry day was only once a week. The other 6 days I had a full time supply of used jocks to sniff and fantasize with.
I even tried to put one of them on in a hormone-fueled rage, but my thighs were probably the same mass as his entire body, and I couldn’t get the damn thing on. The longer I admired Jake and saw him for who he was, the more my love for him grew. With that, so did my jealousy. Jake was everything I wanted. He was fit, cool, and could get any guy he wanted if he even batted an eye at them. My time alone did prove to give me an opportunity to do some research however.
See, I’ve tried for a long, long, long time to get fit on my own. Watching my diet, exercise, starving myself. But, nothing would work. That’s when I started to look for more, creative solutions. I came across a blog hidden deep on the web which talked about taking another person’s form. Most of these seemed bogus, but I had to try. I found one eventually from a user, “Magic_Mann_720” who shared a potion, once which he claimed could turn anybody into a bodysuit. I was about to just toss it aside, but after looking at my desk and seeing the empty bag of McDonald’s staring back at me, I said fuck it.
In all honesty, brewing a magic potion was easier than I assumed it would be, and after just a few short weeks of waiting for unusual supplies to arrive in the mail, I had a vial of the stuff at my whim. Now, who could I possibly give this to? No, not Jake. But also, maybe? Would that make me the worst person imaginable if I slipped this to him? He was one of the few good people I had come across, I couldn’t betray him like that. However, I saw one glimpse of his jock hanging from his hamper, and doubts crossed my mind. It was staring back at me, taunting me with how tight it fucking was. I had to wear it, and I only knew of one body it would perfectly fit.
He was like clockwork, especially early in the morning when he made his preworkout and went off to the gym at 6 in the morning. I set my alarm for 5:50, just early enough to slip the potion into his drink before he woke up and set off. It was of course impossible to wake up so early in the morning, but somehow I managed to silence my alarm without waking Jake.
I fumbled around in the dark and found his shake he made the night before. I had slept with the vial under my pillow, though I could barely sleep from the anticipation of my task today. Being careful to not wake him, I unscrewed the lid, dumped the contents of the vial into the jar, and shook it up. I had just laid back in my bed when his alarm woke him up. I kept my eyes closed, hoping to trick him into thinking I was asleep. I heard him stumble around the room, getting his bearings, getting dressed. I couldn’t resist popping one eye open to see his lithe frame as he found a tank and basketball shorts.
He was already wearing boxers, but if my plan went accordingly, he never would wear such loose fitting underwear again. I heard him grab his shake, and my heart began to race. The pop of the lid went off, and I strained my ears to listen to him drain the contents quickly and quietly. The lid closed and just as I heard the doorknob turn, there was the sound of heavy stomps. I opened my eyes a bit wider to see Jake stumbling around, trying to get his bearings.
“Hey… Logan?” Jake said weakly. I pretended to wake up and rose from bed, seeing him lean against his desk.
“Jake? You okay?” I asked him. He turned his head to me, panting.
“I d-don’t feel good man,” he said between breaths. “Get.. get help. Help.. me..” He slumped to the ground, and while I anticipated a loud thud as his jock body slammed to the ground, it was a soft thump, like that of clothes tossed to the ground. For a moment, I hesitated to creep any closer, afraid of what I would find. I mustered up the courage to turn on the bedside lamp and found a near horrifying site by the door.
There on the ground was Jake, but he was flat as a pancake. He arms and legs stretched out, head deflated, and the clothes he was wearing were atop of him in a pile. I tiptoed to the body, already feeling regret in what I had done. Fuck why did I do this to him? Was I really so driven by my own lust I essentially just killed a good guy?
My own footsteps were much heavier than Jakes, making the floorboards creek. I kicked at the body, the skin feeling as alive as ever, but made no movement of its own. I got on my knees, and with the tips of my fingers, grabbed Jake’s hair and pulled his head up. I was met with Jake’s face, his eyes now hollow sockets and mouth agape. I dropped the skin and scuttled back in fear. Fuck fuck fuck, it’s so god damn creepy! I took a few deep breaths and crawled on my hands and knees to the body once more.
I tried to be more confident this time, grabbing him by his shoulders, and pulling him up as I struggled to stand. Jake was of similar height to me, so once I was fulling standing, I leaned the face to my mine, the tips of his toes still slumped on the floor. You know, it’s less creepy now. Jake was always a cutie, and even as a husk of himself he was irresistible. It was too late now, and while I felt bad about what I had done, I did it with a purpose. The issue now was, how the hell did I fit inside? Speaking of, would I fit at all?
I pulled at his cheek and found it to be rather elastic. My curiosity piqued, and I pulled at the corners of his mouth, which stretched at least a foot wide when I put some effort in. That gave me an idea. I quickly took off my shirt and briefs, catching my reflection in the standing mirror as I did so. God damn it, I was so fucking fat. My stomach hung out in front of me, almost covering my pathetic cock. Ass was as wide as trailer, neck rolls which made it seem like my head sat straight on my shoulders. Tits bigger than most girls I went to school with. This was my last chance to do something about it.
I sat on my bed, laying Jake down in front of me like a pair of pants. Stepping one foot into Jake’s mouth, I stretched it further and further until my thick calves were encompassed by his lips. Grabbing at his chest, I pulled him further up my leg, already running out of breath as I did so. This was a workout on its own. I remember watching videos of guys slipping into wetsuits when I was a teenager, it was a slight fetish of mine. I loved seeing the neoprene cling to their slim figures. Those guys would go inch by inch yanking the suit further up them, so I went ahead and mirrored the practice.
I found doing so actually made the process easier. Soon enough, my foot aligned with Jake’s. I shimmied his calves to match mine, but it was so incredibly tight. It was like my leg was vacuum sealed inside of him, crushing the fat around my leg down to match his. I began to pant, scared I was cutting off all circulation. I was so scared to look down and see something horrific, but shot a glance and was amazed by what I saw. There, my right leg was pristine. It was a mirror image of Jake’s which I had stared at so often when he wore shorts. I wiggled my toes, and Jake’s did the same motion.
Kicking my leg around, the pain began to subside, and I could see up to my knee, it was like I had worked out my entire life. I could feel the beaming smile creep across my face as I stretched Jake’s mouth open wide again to shove my other foot inside. Now that I had some practice, my left leg was far easier to work with and soon enough, I had two sets of legs which were built from years of baseball practices and running. My thighs proved to be another issue entirely, practically twice the twice of my calves.
I stood up from the bed, almost falling over from my balance being so off. Grabbing at Jake’s stomach, I jumped up and down a few times, his skin stretching and sliding over me with his lurch. My I stuck my hand down the inside of Jake’s mouth, the feeling of my now erect cock sliding against the inside of Jake. Although I wasn’t generously endowed, it still hurt to have it crushed inside of him. I found Jake’s cock, and while deflated, certainly overshadowed mine in length and girth. With one hand on the outside, and the other inside, I guided mine into his like a sheath.
It was the most orgasmic feeling I had ever experienced. Jake’s cock went from looking like a flattened worm, to coming to full erection. He was at least seven inches long, and despite mine being half the size, somehow felt like it was filled entirely. It was beet red from anticipation, and while I wanted to cum right here and now, I had to finish what I started. I turned to the mirror once more, and was shocked by what I saw. From the waist up, I was still fat fuck Logan, but from the lower half, I was built like a god damn star. My new cock swung side to side, stiff as a board, and my ass, while squeezed in like a sausage, now was as perky as if I squatted 300 lbs. I turned and slapped Jake’s ass, watching as the taut skin slapped me back. All hints of cellulite gone.
Finally was the part I was most afraid of, my stomach. It hung over the edge of Jake’s body, the flap of my stomach going over Jake’s lips. I sucked it in, which did practically nothing. Taking one of my arms, I pushed it as far in as I could, and used my other hand to pull the lips of Jake’s mouth up. I groaned in pain, feeling like a rubber band was squishing me in and threatening to cut me in half. Somehow though, his head moved up and moved. It was by inches and incredibly painful. Once I reached my belly button, I found a system to make it easier. Moving him up further and further, I finally reached my chest before I had to fall onto the bed.
I was breathing heavier than ever, and drenched in sweat from what was left of my original body. I felt Jake’s, and he was as dry as ever, as he would never be worn out from such a task. I counted down from ten and hoisted myself up, catching my sight in the mirror. My moobs hung over Jake’s torso, but it was like I was wearing a skin corset. I rubbed my had over my new stomach, feeling how flat it was. In fact, I would even see the beginnings of a six pack bulging out. It was surreal, I don’t think I’ve been this thing since… ever. I took a deep breath and worked to shove each of my tits down Jake’s mouth.
Each of them was a chore on their own, but eventually, all that was left were my arms and head. I don’t know how that would work, but if I made it this far, it was certainly possible. It would be tough as I would lose an arm at a time trying to slide them in. Taking my right one first, I wriggled my fingers inside, pushing them down Jake’s like a skin tight glove. With each inch my fingers slid in, it was easier and easier as I gained Jake’s strength. Eventually, the fingers found their way into his. I pulled at his bicep, as stretchy as the rest of him, and snapped it into place, enclosing my arm.
I rushed to do the same with my left and with my newfound strength, found this section to be the easiest. I was almost done. Jake’s lips were around my neck, and I had to use his fingers to make sure he didn’t choke me. I glanced at the mirror, and found Jake with my head. I turned my body around, admiring his form. I had taken several sneaky glances at him as he changed, but to have full autonomy, to see his tattoo on his thigh, the way his veins popped in his hands, the curvature of his muscles, it was like I was being treated to a feast.
���Goodbye Logan,” I told myself. I don’t know if I would come back from this. Or, if I would even want to. I took a deep breath and shimmied his head up my own. The same tight sensation took over my entire headspace and it was like a migraine hit me. Using my hands, I smushed my face around, placing my nose into his, eyes, lips. I fluttered my eyelids and had to refocus my vision. Going to the mirror was a picture perfect reflection of Jake.
“Holy shit,” I said. Oh fuck, that was still my voice. I guess that wouldn’t have changed. I don’t know how I could pull off Jake’s voice, but I would have to practice it. I looked at the corner of my mouth, seeing my original lips peak through Jake’s. I took a finger, stretching and pulling it into place.
There, I was Jake. Fuck I was Jake! I laughed and rubbed my arms across my body, watching as Jake did it in the mirror.
I spent a good ten minutes trying different poses and watching as Jake bent to my will. Sniffing his pits, making funny faces, bending over and showing off my new hole to myself. That last one sent me over the edge and I knew I had to blow off the steam which had built up. I sat on the bed and hoisted my legs up, cradling the back of my knees in my hands. I could never have even thought about attempting that in my old body, but as Jake, I felt so lithe. My smile was beaming in between my legs as I puckered my hole. I had to see what this looked like. I wanted to see Jake be pathetic now. I twisted my face to match that of so many porn actors I had watched alone in this room.
“Ohhhh… oh fuck me daddy,” I said, begging, watching Jake’s eyes as they wished desperately for a fat cock to fill him up. I split into my hand and began to pump my new cock, already slick and slimy from precum. I stuck a finger in my mouth and wet it before sliding it over my hole and slicking it up. I had plenty of experience playing with my old hole, but I always struggled to get my arm in a position to really get deep in. Jake didn’t have that problem though. I started to finger fuck myself, watching as Jake became his own bitch.
“Oh fuck daddy, fuck me. Fuck me!” I yelled, the point of climax racing through my cock before I could even react. Laces of cum shot out and started to drench my body, reaching even to my face and getting into my hair. I pulled my finger out of my hole, let go of my cock, and felt it rest against my thigh. There in the reflection was Jake, covered in his own cum and looking like a bitch.
I giggled, knowing I should feel far more guilty about what I had done, but too high on my own bliss to care. After bathing in my glory, I decided to clean Jake up and explore his body some more. I grabbed one of his towels and left the room, still naked. Walking down the dorm hall to the bathroom, it was still dead silent. Logan would have been petrified at the idea of being caught naked by somebody, but Jake? Well Jake now hoped somebody would see him and be jealous.
Getting into the bathroom, I passed by Brad, another guy on our floor, who had a towel wrapped around his waist, still glistening from his shower.
“Jake, the fuck?” He asked. I couldn’t pull off Jake’s voice yet, but I gave him a pat on the shoulder and winked at him as I pushed past. For a second I caught a glimpse of him checking out my body before he shook his head and rushed out to his room. I went to one of the mirrors in the bathroom and knelt over, posing and kissing at myself. Jake was going to become a lot more playful it seemed.
I took my time in the shower, feeling every crevice of Jake’s body and feeling myself up. And of course, stretching out his hole some more to work him up to taking a real dick. Maybe by one of his new frat brothers I need to meet. Once I got back to our room, I knew there was only one thing left on my to do list of the morning. I went to Jake’s hamper and pulled out the jock which was mocking me just hours before. I sniffed at, Jake’s pheromones becoming mine.
I slipped both legs down and had no trouble at all this time adjusting my bulge and feeling the elastic hug my jock thighs. I snapped one of the bands, feeling a sheer run my spine as I did so. Slipping one of his black shirts on, I went for Jake’s phone, which thankfully could be opened with just his face. I snapped a few pictures for myself to look at whenever I pleased. Now, how about we download Grindr to it and see what this new body can pull?
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Do you think u could write abt the gang being (separately) absolutely obsessed with the reader. Like they adore everything she does, they can’t get enough of her. To the point where the rest of the gang starts releasing them abt it, meanwhile reader is like completely oblivious lol
୧ ׅ𖥔 ۫ heaven and hell were words to me.⋄ 𓍯

…IN WHICH! the greasers are totally obsessed!
tags/warnings: no confessions—just the gang having a crush, gang being literally whipped, them being a little odd, kinda toxic!johnny LFMAO, nothing else to my knowledge
ೃauthor notes⁀➷ i’m just working…working hard so i can please you.(shout out to ema/corvyes/loml for that ref.) but if i get a req asking me for like the gng confessing to you—i will do it. trust.
Dallas Winston
WHEN HE’S DRUNK, YOU’RE ALLLL HE TALKS ABOUT LMFAOOOO
“i’m tellin’ you—there ain’t a girl like her.”
dallas would repeat after what felt like this 5th drink of the night. buck is sick of him, two-bit regrets dragging him along, and dallas just wants to tell them how good you looked today.
when he sees you walking home, to school, or to work he WILL tag along. HE DOESN’T GAF IF YOU TELL HIM TO TAKE A HIKE!
actually, he kinda does. you’re like the only person he listens to.
LMFAOOO THE GANG THREATENS TO CALL YOU OVER WHENEVER DALLAS IS DOING SMTH STUPID
like whenever you threaten a kid ur gna tell santa.
“dallas, i’m gonna tell y/n what you did last week.”
“??if you do, i’ll beat your head in, soda.”
“YIKES..i’m gonna have to tell her that too…”
“…don’t, she’d be so mad at me😔😒.”
THE GANG TEASES DALLAS THE WORST(besides ponyboy) ABOUT YOU LFNAOAOAOAO
like they’re shoving him toward you, nudging him at even the slightest mention of you, giggling as they tell him they seen you today.
“look, it’s your girlfriend.”
“steve, shut up! she ain’t deaf!”
—
“GO SEE HER!”
“OW—i mean—hi, y/n.”
“did you…trip? or did you mean to bump into me?”
“yeah, sorry or whatever. some IDIOT back there pushed me.”
—
“guess who i saw..🥰🥰”
“who?”
“your wife…”
“can you NOT.”
despite all that, you somehow, still don’t know how he feels about you. how? we’ll never know. it’s beyond the human mind.
his friends try and hint at you that the big, bad greaser has a school girl crush on you. do you get what they’re trying to say? no. but that’s okay, you’re just a girl.
lowkey pisses dallas off but that’s okay cuz he prefers admiring from afar. DOES HOWEVER ASK YOU TO HANG OUT AND CONSIDERS THEM A DATE IN HIS HEAD TO KEEP HIM SANE LFMAO
“you wanna go see this drag race tomorrow?”
“sure! i don’t have work then. uhm, pick me up at my place!”
“alright, cool.”
‘yeah..,it’s date🥱😍’ — dallas’ brain.
Johnny Cade
‘johnny, if you even fucking stutter when you talk to her today—you’re gonna have to drink pickle juice.’
“oh, hi. i didn’t see you there, johnny. ‘m sorry.”
“o-oh—it’s alright.”
‘well, shit.”
he thinks he looks like such a fucking loser when he talks to you omfg😭😭
the gang tries to tell him he might have a shot but he thinks they’re just telling him that because he’s their friend. :(
HEAVILY admires from afar. like seriously he’s a fucking stalker
WAIT LMFOAOO HE’D BE THE TYPE OF GUY TO ACCIDENTALLY STALK YOU LIKE HE’D FOLLOW YOU PLACES FROM AFAR LMFAOAOAOOAOA
what a little freak
anyways
he accidentally lets things slip to let you know he’s better than any other guy trying to go after you. like if you had a shitty ex—he’s preaching that he’d ‘never treat you like that, he can’t imagine that a guy with a brain ever would.’
johnny does everything to keep your attention on HIM and nobody else when your friends try and talk to you when you two are out together. like you could be having a conversation with him and he’d be just pouting in the background with his arms crossed.
“y/n, look. they got that shirt you was talkin’ ‘bout. let’s go check it out. c’mon.” “oh—alright! bye, viv!😊” “yeah, bye viv.😒”
side eyes the gang whenever they bring you up in conversation
“johnny and y/n sittin’ in a tree—“
“😒🤨”
“alright.”
he tries to subtly hint that he really likes you and that you’re his type but it’s not subtle at ALL.
“y’know, if i were to have a girlfriend, i’d wish she was like you.”
—
“my type? uhm, it’d probably be someone-“ and he goes on to describe you.
Ponyboy Curtis
‘holy fuck that’s literally y/n walking towards me??!! does she know i’m here—does she even know me-wow she looks good in red. i mean—SHE’S WAVING OH MY GOD.’
HE IS SUCH A WRECK I CANTTT
ponyboy is the type to stare off into space in your direction and dream about how well he’d treat you if he was your man!!
yk how bitches be like ‘my man, my man!’ whenever they talk about their crush?? he’s all ‘my girl, my girl!’ WUAGRMRNEE
the gang was so confused on why he was so eager to go to school all of a sudden?? and why he cares about his appearance just slightly more than usual?? …is that soda’s shirt he’s wearing?-
two-bit was the first one to realize what was happening when he seen ponyboy and you talk in the halls. that wasn’t the giveaway, though.
it was the way he stared at you like you were the only girl alive and everyone else was just gone. two-bit was almost moved to tears to see ponyboy all grown😞😞!!!
“is tha’ your girlfriend? that why you couldn’t wait ‘til monday?”
“shut up!”
“ouuu, wait until the gang hears ‘bout this!”
“YOU AIN’T TELLIN’ ‘EM NOTHIN’!”
ever since — it has been hell on earth for ponyboy. dallas brings you up every time ponyboy gets smart, johnny giggles at every kissing scene at a movie nudges him, soda and darry had to give him ‘the talk,’ (soda just made it worse by making snide remarks.) and steve never stopped poking fun at him.
two-bit tried to get you to spill the beans on how you felt about him, but all you’d do was huff and ignore him. FINE THEN😒!—is what he always thought.
soda, johnny and two-bit all let ponyboy rant about you.
“LIKE, BRO. my girl, my girl! she’s so cute and smart. LIKE SHE’S TOTALLY MY DREAM.”
—
“that’s so cute ☹️” - soda
“SHE WANTS YOU SOO BAD” - two-bit
“just go tell her, man.” - johnny
does everything to impress you stoppp 😭😭!! pony is trying harder in school, using less hair grease, wearing darry’s cheap cologne when he’s not looking, etc.
HE’S SO SILLY I LOVE HIM!!!
Sodapop Curtis
delusional king!!! yes soda, let the voices in your head tell you that she wants you so bad!!🫶🫶
swear to goddd he thinks y’all are meant to be. you tipped him when he was working at the cash register and he was sooo in love
sorry in my head he’s a hopeless romantic
cause a) you were gorgeous, b) kind enough to tip him, and c) most likely rich💯💯
when he seen you at random places with your friends—soda would get so excited LMFAOOO
STOP HE’D HOUND PONY FOR YOUR NAME
“bro they probably go to your school—just lemme look at your yearbook!”
“no??? you weirdo???”
“please??!! i’ll do the dishes or something!”
“….get me a pack of cigarettes and i’ll tell you.”
“OKAY🥰🥰”
stole them but pony never said how to get them so who gaf!!!
SODA WOULD TOTALLY WRITE YOUR FIRST INITAL + HIS LMFAOOAOAOAOAA
or he’d see who’s last name went best with curtis or your last name!!!1!1!1
he’s crazy insane over you did i say that already
whenever you come by the dx—he’d give you shit for free while you insist to pay.
“jus’ take it.”
“i can’t—i’d feel terrible.”
“it’s alright, no one has to know. right?”
he’d flash his million dollar smile, pushing your coke and chips close to you, inciting you to just take the food.
WAJENEDKD he wants u so bad it’s. so terrible.
steve hates his rambles
“YOU SHOULDA SEEN THE WAY ME AND HER WAS TALKING—SHE’S SO INTO MEEEE”
“yeah, she wants you!!! shut up now!!”
Darry Curtis
nobody knows. it’s like a top secret only darry knows. the gang has their suspicions but they can never really know why darry is suddenly so adamant on going to go get him, soda, and pony’s hair done at the salon.
they alllll can see that he only really talks to you—but at the same time he does that weird ass dad stance where they stand with their arms crossed and legs far apart LMFAOOOOO
darry thinks you’re like…model fine btw.!!!!!
BROOO WHEN YOU LIKE UNCONSCIOUSLY MASSAGE HIS HEAD WHEN YOURE CUTTING IT—HE’S SOO READY TO JUST ASK YOU OUT
darry doesn’t know what it is but goddamn!! you have him in a spell!!
“c’mon—we gotta go to the salon again.”
“….we just went?”
“TWO WEEKS AGO. it’s about time we go AGAIN.”
does in fact work a little extra just so he can see you. he’s that much of a loverboy i fear.
HE DOES ACTUALLY NOT WAIT TO ASK YOU OUT
like, among all the gang, he’s the only one mature enough to actually flirt with you properly & to ask if you’re single.
darry’s fucking down like that.
AWWHHH HE TOTALLY BUYS YOU FLOWERS AS A ‘THANK YOU’ GIFT LOL
flexs his strength around you to prove he’s worthy !!! DARRY LOVEEESSS SHOWING OFF WHEN YOU’RE LOOKING
megara + hercules methink…..
you two probably started hanging out as ‘friends.’ …yeah right!!!!
he’s driving you around as you be his pretty little passenger princess, he’s offering to buy you things when you two are out, etc, etc.
darry might not know how to show that he likes you, but trust me, the second that you look a little too far into his actions—it gets obvious.
like maybe too obvious idk.
Steve Randle
HELLLOOOO??? HE IS TOTALLY SHOWING OFF HIS GYMNASTICS MOVES AROUND YOU
“bro, bro! (yes he’d call you bro. idgaf.) watch what i can do!!😊😊” “wowwww, steve that’s so cool.”
geeks out near you. when you aren’t around the average person would see him and go ‘jesus christ, he literally might beat my ass.’ but when you’re around, they might think, ‘why is that scary looking guy talking about cars and comic books rn??’
you bring out the nerd in him in the best way possible🫶😊 BECAUSE THAT MEANS HE LIKE LIKES YOUUUUUUU
and it’s so obvious to the gang bc wdym steve told you all about DC comics while all they got was a ‘yeah, it’s alright.’ …hm…..
soda NEVER shuts the fuck up and him and his little girlfriend. NEVERRREE
“why’re you so pouty today? y/n ain’t say hi?”
“bro, shut up!”
steals for you and gives them to you all proud like he paid for it LMFAO
tries to be sooo cool around you but the second you bring up the latest batman comic he’s all “OMGOMGOMGOMG IT WAS SOO GOOD!! DID YOU SEE THE-“ he’s a loser what can i say.
dallas totally flirts with you in front of steve just to piss him off LOLLL like when he sees dallas twirling your hair around his finger steve is just all “???🤨🤨😡😡”
and then becomes your knight in shining armour and swoops you away as he glares daggers at dally!!!!<3
Two-bit Mathews
he becomes the funniest man on the planet i’m not joking
he says jokes that anybody and everybody will laugh at. just because he wants to see you laugh at what he says for his delusions
two-bit thinks like ‘she laugh=she likes me’
he’s not the brightest but it’s okay
HE MAKES IT SOOO KNOWN THAT HE LIKES YOU LFMAOOOOOO
“you’re lookin’ pretty? who’s the fella?” / “gee, i didn’t believe when they said they seen an angel walkin’ around until now.” / “well, now you owe me dinner.”
shit like that
two thinks he’s soooo smooth…smh.
DALLAS AND PONYBOY SO BADLY WANTS HIM SHUT THE HELL UP ALREADY ABOUT YOU LMFAOOO
they keep on telling him just to confess already but then two gets all giggly and shy and goes “omg guys noooo🤭🤭🤭🫣🫣”
just coincidentally runs into you everywhere you go!!! (literally has eyes everywhere. he’s weird. he’s odd.)
follows you around like a lost puppy and lowkey kinda gossips. idk.
#2knightt#the outsiders#the outsiders x reader#dallas winston x reader#johnny cade x reader#ponyboy x reader#ponyboy curtis x reader#sodapop x reader#sodapop curtis x reader#steve randle x reader#darry curtis x reader#two bit x reader#two bit mathews x reader
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Just some big three pjo things I think about.
Percy -the little shit- would absolutely utilise his ability of water to mess with you.
100%
If you leave a water bottle unopened, expect Percy to surge what little water was left inside to spray you when you’re going in for a drink. Leaving you soaked and glaring at the boy across the camp.
He thinks he’s funny but he’s really not.
You can’t even try to do this back to him as it usually results in it being thrown back in your face, literally as you’re reminded that this dude can walk into waist deep water, and miraculously come back as dry as he was before entering.
So needless to say you keep your water bottles tightly shut when you’re near Percy in case he’s feeling funny that day or has that certain gleam in his eye.
Percy can’t be trusted near uncapped water bottles, it’s a rule to never leave Percy near them or be within sight of any un opened water bottles.
Percy is not allowed to participate in watergun fights…for very obvious reasons and even if he does, the bastard had to be prohibited from using his powers at all during the watergun fights!
Everyone else in camp will be soaked and he would be dry as fuck, everyone calls it cheating but Percy calls it otherwise. Smug little twat.
Also don’t imagine Percy using the water out of an water bottle to douse you and when your chasing him, ready to kill him, his excuse is that ‘it’s a hot day in camp and I thought you could cool off a little!’ As if that was going to save him from the ass whooping your about to give him.
Nico has silent footsteps.
He can travel through shadows.
This is a recipe for disaster as he can easily scare you without having to try all that hard. And it’s the worst feeling ever.
He won’t know just how silent his footsteps are until you point it out to him or else he’ll think that he’s more than made his arrival known. (He absolutely didn’t)
Nico could emerge from the shadow nearby and walk up to you and casually say ‘hey’ and you’ll almost come out of your own skin when you realised the pale Italian in the aviator jacket next to you.
‘Fucking hell Nico’ you’d groan as you grasp your chest, trying to calm yourself down from the initial scare. ‘Warn me next time.’ You would add and Nico would only look at you as though you had grown a second head.
He had no clue what you were on about but would continue his day like he would any other, doing the same exact thing to other campers and getting the same exact reaction he got out of you too many times to be coincidental.
Even when he’s not shadow traveling, his footsteps are quite enough to have you believe that he had just appeared out of nowhere, and not walked the entirety of camp just to tell you something.
‘You’ve got to stop popping up out of nowhere.’ You tell him.
‘I’m not doing anything!’ He’d reply.
‘You’ve got silent footsteps Nico! Can’t hear shit when you’re creeping up on me, do you want me to die?’ You’d say and all of sudden everything made sense to Nico as to why everyone seemed to be unable to notice him until he was standing nearby.
‘Oh.’ He’d say. Does this change anything? No not really as Nico finds it funny to see people get scared. It’s made even funnier when on Halloween when everyone is done telling their scariest stories.
Jason tends to electric shock people, not on purpose, it just happens without warning.
I’m talking rubbing your hands on a carpet super fact and touching someone’s arm, or rubbing a balloon against yourself and watching in awe as it makes the hairs on your arms stick up.
However he didn’t need to rub his hands on a carpet to give someone an eclectic shock, he can just reach out to you and make it happen.
You could just be reaching for his hand and zap! You’ve been given an electric shock by Jason grace! You flinch back to rub your hand and Jason thought you were hurt and was already reaching out to you to help when-
You guessed it another electric shock happens.
It doesn’t hurt, you’re not in any pain but still you were being zapped at the end of the day.
Jason isn’t aware of this ability until afterwards and he’s just as confused as you and will not reach out for you for a while until he’s certain he won’t shock you.
Which is a solid 50/50. It happens when he least expects it or it can strike twice if you were the unlucky soul to get an electric shock back to back.
Guess it’s a weird perk of being the child of Zeus.
#pjo x reader#pjo imagines#pjo imagine#pjo fanfic#pjo x you#pjo x y/n#percy jackson x reader#percy jackson imagines#percy jackson imagine#percy jackson x you#percy jackson x y/n#jason grace x y/n#jason grace x you#jason grace imagines#jason grace imagine#nico do angelo fanfic#nico di angelo x reader#nico di angelo imagine#nico di angelo imagines#nico di angelo x you
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DILF!Steve concert saga, featuring Eddie POV for this part! part 1, part 2
"I have to open it."
"Nope."
"Gareth. I need to open it."
"The vault is sacred," Archie says.
At the same time, Jeff chimes in, "The vault was your idea, Eddie."
Eddie thunks his head against the wall. "I know. But I need-"
"They're on the last song," Archie says, putting a hand on Eddie's shoulder. It's probably meant to be comforting, but it feels patronizing as shit.
Eddie is a good friend, though. He doesn't shrug him off.
"Once they're through, I'll unlock it," Jeff says, dangling the key slung around his neck.
"But you could do it now," Eddie protests.
Gareth sits protectively on top of the black lock box. "Absolutely not."
Eddie sighs and waits for the guitar solo onstage to end, nodding his head along to the beat.
It's what he usually does when they're backstage, but this time, it brings a smile to his face. Miss Anna was a natural yesterday for her first time headbanging, and her dad is the reason Eddie wants to break the sacred vault tradition.
He wants, no, needs to know if he got the note. If he decided to write something. If he wants to go a little further than PG flirting.
Eddie for sure wants to go further than that. God. Steve's handsome face and his big hands and his thick thighs (deliciously exposed by his shorts in the summer heat) are all wonderful incentives to skip a few steps and go straight to ramming him into a mattress.
Or, with how that shirt clung to Steve's biceps and how his shorts clung to his ass, let him ram Eddie into the mattress. He isn't picky.
(He isn't desperate, either, thank you very much, Gareth. And no, he won't admit how long it's been since he got laid.)
From the house, the audience roars, and Eddie jumps off the arm of the couch he was laying on.
Gareth sighs and gets off the lock box.
"Jeff, open it," Eddie says, staring at the vault and subconsciously making grabby hands toward it.
"Is that how we ask?"
"I could always yank the key off you."
Archie sighs and, ever the peacemaker, takes the key from Jeff and unlocks the vault. The second it's open, Eddie snatches his phone and turns it on.
Please please please let the DILF text back, he thinks to himself as he waits for this stupid metal brick to turn on and give him a resolution to this whole ridiculous situation.
Because, first, Eddie doesn't really jive with kids. Sure, they flock to him in the same way they flock to every other vaguely cool-looking person, but aside from asking if he has to draw his tattoos on every day or if his mommy is okay with him having his hair that long, they generally leave him alone.
And that's okay. Eddie easily made his peace with not having kids about ten years ago. Between his strong preference for men and the way that significantly decreases those odds and the choice to not pass on his truly abysmal family history of mental illness and addiction, it seemed obvious and a lot more selfless.
But Anna was cool as hell. Smart as hell, too, in a way that made Eddie feel like he was looking back at a time before school punished him for being bright and verbose and energetic.
Anna didn't make him want kids. Again, the whole family history thing is a real vibe killer. But she did give him enough fuel, for just an instant, to think that dating someone with a kid might not be a deal breaker anymore.
Or maybe Steve was just that hot.
He whined a lot yesterday, in the hotel, about how hot Steve was.
His phone turns on, and, front and center, is a text from an unknown number:
I guess I don’t have to ask you what you do for a living. Just so we’re even on that front, I’m a teacher, and Anna’s full time job is preschool.
Eddie grins so hard he feels like his face will split in two.
"Is it him?" Jeff asks, trying to look over Eddie's shoulder.
"Of course it is," Gareth scoffs. "Look at his face."
"What did he say?" Archie asks.
Eddie takes the easier way out and lets him have the phone.
Gareth and Jeff crowd over Archie's shoulders, and Eddie watches their faces change as they read the message.
"Oh, he's bitchy," Gareth says.
"That means he's perfect," Jeff says, with a pointed look at Eddie.
Eddie shoots Archie a clear "back me up" look and gets a shrug in return because all his friends are assholes who know his type way too fucking well.
"What do I say?" he asks.
Archie tosses him the phone. "I don't know. Flirt back."
"I don't know how!"
"You ground against a guitar-"
"And kissed me onstage," Jeff continues. "But you don't know how to flirt?"
Eddie puts his head in his hands. "I didn't have enough sex in high school to know how to do this!"
"That's not an excuse when none of us did!" Gareth says.
Jeff barks out a laugh.
"Just ask if he's free tomorrow," Archie says, like the rational, wonderful friend he is. "This was the last stop of tour. It's not like you have to get anywhere else at a specific time."
"Okay. Okay, yeah, I can do that," Eddie says, hyping himself up. Before he can second guess himself, he writes back.
Since it's summer, I'm assuming you both have off. Can you fit it in your busy schedule to have dinner with a humble musician tomorrow night?
"Oh, shit, did you send it?" Gareth asks, snatching his phone.
"Wait," Archie says, like the rational, horrible friend he is. "Do we know if he's single?"
"Oh, shit," Jeff whispers.
Eddie takes his phone back and refuses to look at it. He wants to shut it down. He wants to drop it. He wants to drive to nearest river and throw it there.
"Am I a homewrecker?" he asks absently.
"Only if you succeed," Jeff says.
"He might have a wife," Archie muses. "He might be straight."
"Okay, dude, enough," Gareth says. "This was supposed to be exciting! Eddie was supposed to get ass!"
"He might be ace."
"Archie, shut the fuck up."
He holds his hands up in surrender, and Jeff pats his shoulder, a little comfortingly, a lot condescendingly.
Eddie sits down on the couch. Puts his head in his hands. Breathes.
He's flirting with a married man. He's absolutely flirting with a married man. This is a new low. This is worse than the time he licked the floor of a restaurant, drunk, for five bucks. This is worse than when he greened out in the parking lot of a Chuck E. Cheese. This is worse than when he accidentally told the gas station cashier that he loved them and immediately walked into the glass door behind him.
This is. So bad.
And then his phone rings, so it'll get worse. It has to. That's how these things go.
Eddie has always been self-destructive, so, of course, he looks at the screen.
I can't swing dinner, but how's lunch? Fair warning: it might be a playground picnic if my babysitter bails.
"Holy shit, I'm not a homewrecker," Eddie says.
"I didn't think you had it in you," Jeff says.
"He's single!" Gareth cheers.
"Can I talk now?" Archie teases.
"I'm not a homewrecker!" Eddie says, and he launches off the couch to hug the nearest person, who happens to be Jeff.
They have to get out of the venue. He has to figure out the logistics of the date and how to be normal by the time he gets there and what to wear and everything else.
But, right now, Eddie is over the fucking moon that Steve is even giving him a shot. And he hopes, giddy as all hell and hanging off of Jeff's shoulders, that Steve feels even a little bit like this.
He writes back, once he's calmed down:
Lunch might just become my new favorite meal.
#ria writes#dilf and concert#d&c au#steddie#steddie ficlet#st#st ficlet#stranger things#stranger things ficlet#steve harrington#eddie munson#corroded coffin#rockstar eddie munson#dilf steve harrington
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001: ‘She’s in a band’
TW: Light smut, Ellie being a jerk tbh. (Not proofread bc I took my meds and I’m feeling lazy :P)
Moving to Seattle wasn’t your first choice, I mean, you were perfectly happy in Arizona. You had friends, family, and most importantly, a band but some drama happened and you wanted to get away from it all. Your first choice was going to California but you had no money, no stable job, and no place to crash so, you reluctantly went to Seattle. At least you’d be closer to the music scene and you haven’t seen your favourite cousin in awhile..
Gazing out the window as the amtrak came to a halt you see Jesse sitting on a bench, legs obnoxiously sprawled out and a toothpick hanging on his lips.
“Can take the boy outta the country but can’t take the country outta the boy,” you chuckle as you gather your luggage and make your way off the bus
“Hey, y/n/n,” Jesse drawls, grabbing your luggage with ease and slinging his arm around you.
“Ugh, get off me you reek of axe and cigarettes,” you tease with a smile playing on your lips as Jesse ruffles your hair and throws your things into the back of his truck.
Jesse’s place was a lot nicer than you though, I guess being a welder does pay off. It was a little messy and could use a homey touch but it was rather nice but you would never admit that to him. Your room was nice too, a little small, but had a great view and even had access to the balcony. The room was bare, plain white walls with a red brick wall on one side, a bed and one singular lamp sitting in the middle of the room.
You settle in while Jesse rifles through your things and rants about his current situationship, “She’s just insane like who asks for your credit score on the first date? Don’t get me wrong, my credit score is so good that it would make ANY girls parties drop.”
You scrunch your nose and throw a hoodie at him as he continues “Hey, I’m just say—“ he begins before hes abruptly interrupted by a call, “Yeah?.. right now?… Alright, alright, alright… on my way, doll.”
“Hmmm, I wonder who that could be,” sarcasm practically oozes off your words.
“It’s Dina,” Jesse winks as he rushes to put his boots on, “Don’t expect me to come back tonight,” he winks.
“Oh, come on,” you trail after him, “It’s my first night! Can’t you stay? We can, like, get dinner and maybe go to a bar?”
‘Nah, I’d rather get laid than hang out with my dorky little cousin,” He says, the door cutting off his voice.
Asshole.
And that’s how you find yourself all alone, sitting at a bar and cheering on the local bands when two girls sit next to you. The girl with short hair remarks, “Those guys were so ass, ‘The Serpahites?’ What the fuck kinda name is that,” her friend laugh at her joke.
“Sounds like a cult,” you mutter under your breath, not meaning for them to hear you but the girl with auburn hair laughs, “Ah, sorry, didn’t mean to eavesdrop—“ you begin but are quickly interrupted by the girl resting a hand on your shoulder.
“It’s okay, dude,” a soft smile on her lips.
Fuck, she’s so cute. The way the dim bar lights dance over her facial features and the way her short hair falls softly over her green eyes. She was wearing a flannel but you could tell she had one hell of a body.
“Sorry,” you say again.
“It’s all good,” she smirks, crap, did she notice the way you were staring?
As you’re debating on whether or not you should call it a night or get on your knees and start apologizing profusely for ever thinking lewd thoughts in the presence of an angel, she gets up, grabbing her friends hand and heads into the back.
Crap, I should’ve asked for her number..
Just as you take another sip from the fruity drink you ordered, you hear the announcer introduce another band called “the Infected.” Sounds pretty cool, you think as you get up from your seat and make your way into the crowd of people.
Must be a popular band.
The curtains are pulled back to reveal the girl you met at the bar earlier, she’s taken off her flannel and is now wearing a form fitting black tank top, low rise jeans, and a pair of worn converse, on her shoulder rests a beautiful black guitar littered with stickers of stars and planets, cute. Along side her is a girl with piercings, long black hair, looks like the lead singer, and oh. my. god. IS THAT JESSE?? He’s no longer wearing a flannel but a plain black tee, denim jeans, and of course, his boots, he’s on drums.
“Jesse!” you cheer as his head whips around and shoots daggers at you, you’ll never let him live this down.
The band plays a wonderful set and gets a lot of cheers from the crowd. Some fans, mostly girls, approach the band afterwards to gush over them, the girl with the auburn hair seems to have the most fans.
You make your way towards the stage to find Jesse, hoping to tease him about what you just witnessed.
“He’s in the back changing,” a voice rasps from behind. “Ah, I see,” turning around, you see the bassist towering over you.
“Heyyy, I know you, we met at the bar, yeah?” She says while looking you up and down.
“Yeah, at the bar,” you manage to get out.
“You’re Jesse’s cousin? Huh, didn’t know you were coming out tonight, if I had known, I would’ve put on a better show,” she smirks as a light blush sweeps over your face. How could such a small comment illicit this small reaction from you? Maybe it was the way she said it, her voice raspy from singing on backup.
“That show was really great, I enjoyed it a lot. Seems like y’all are popular,” you glance over at a small crowd of girls shooting glares in your direction for talking to their bassist.
The auburnette chuckles and glances back, winking at the girls, “Yeah, we got a few.”
You can’t help but roll your eyes at the faux humility, unfortunately, she catches this.
“What was that?” She laughs, studying your face.
“I can tell already, you’re such a cliche, right? I bet you sleep with all your little fangirls, give them the night of their lives then leave them in the dust, right? Just so you can feed your ego and make yourself feel better for whatever attachment issues you got going on.”
She looks awestricken. You knew her type all too well, I mean you were in a band and you’ve encountered A LOT of band mates are like that. Hell, even rock’s beloved dad, Dave Grohl, did something similar.
“Touché,” she smirks and leans up against the stage, her green eyes hungrily taking you in, “You’re interesting, let me buy you a drink.”
About half an hour later, you’re in the back of her van, panting with her lips on your neck and her knee pressing up against your aching cunt. She’s whispering sweet things into your ear which causes your hips to involuntarily buck up against her hand.
“So fuckin’ needy f’me, aren’t ya?” She mumbles against your neck, “All that talk just for you to melt into my touch,” you can feel her smirking against your neck.
“Shut up,” you say, barely getting it out through desperate whimpers and pants.
The next morning, you wake up in her apartment, alone and half naked, only wearing your panties and a shirt you didn’t recognize. You groan as you stumble out of bed, this hangover might actually be the death of you. You make your way over to the kitchen for some water only to find a sticky note next to some tylenol and water, it reads ‘Don’t forget to lock the door on your way out.’
What the actual fuck. Not even a good morning or at least a hi?
You crumple up the note, leaving it on the counter to hopefully get the message across.
“Typical bassist,” you mutter before leaving.
Later that evening, you facetime your friend, Lila.
“So… she basically told you to get out? What the fuck! You should’ve totally wrecked everything, stolen her shampoos, bleach wash her clothes, pour glitter all ov—“
Laughing you say, “Okay, okay, Lils, I get it but seriously? Glitter is going a little too far.”
“Not far enough, I’d say,” she mutters, “So…. was it good, at least?
“Good? It was total ecstasy but I mean, that’s to be expected.”
Lila cocks her head to the side, obviously confused, “Wha?”
“She’s in a band, meaning, she obviously has a lot of experience.”
“SHE’S IN A BAND???????” Lila’s eyes are practically bulging out of her head, “Wait, nah, girl, this is all on you. Rule number one, never sleep with a girl in a band, they will totally ruin your life. They’re good at giving head because they have to hide how evil they are somehow.”
You groan, “Ugh, I know., I know!” but your mind goes back to last night, the sight of her between your legs, the feeling of her hot breath against your ear, the sight of her on top with your legs draped over her shoulders, the way—
Fuck.
(A/n: This is my first fic since I was like 16 so be nice lol next one will be better, I promise, I just really suck at writing intros)
#ellie willams x reader#ellie williams#ellie fanfic#ellie x y/n#abby and ellie#ellie tlou#ellie x you#ellie x fem reader#ellie x reader#ellie the last of us#tlou fic#tlou x y/n#tlou x you#tlou x reader#tlou fanfiction#tlou2#tlou smut#ellie williams x reader#x reader
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Haunted By The Look In My Eyes
JJ Maybank x fem!reader
Summery: After a near death experience while on an adventure Y/n and JJ were supposed to be sat on the bench for, tension builds between the Pogues until finally, JJ’s reckless attitude meets Y/n’s intense feelings that can only be compared to the hopelessness JJ once felt himself.


“Guess it’s just you and me.” I rolled my eyes, the coolness from the surface of the metal shipment container doing nothing to cool down the sweltering heat that danced through the air within the four walls. Boxes of random assortments of various items plastered in rotting wood and wrapped thickly in plastic wrap.
Water clung to everything, beading down my forehead in thick droplets of sweat, the salty liquid tasting on my tongue with each swipe of it over my cracking lips. I swore if I ever had the curse of being sent to hell, this was it. This was the fiery depths of heat people spoke about, I was sure of it.
JJ was glistening too, though, he seemed used to it. Growing up with no temperature regulations in the unforgiving summer heat seems to have made him less uncomfortable by the thickness in the air, I hadn’t been lucky enough to adapt over time.
I watched him slide down against the floor, trying to get as low as possible. Heat does rise, after all. I sat opposite of him. Climbing on the crates of junk and cringing at the insufferable squeaking sounds that I could only ever compare to nails on chalkboard. I sat as close to the small opening in the container as possible without making myself known to anyone walking outside. The risk was worth it for the cool breeze of the ocean, even for just a moment.
But just as I close my eyes, swaying and praying that the heat will die down, the blond speaks.
“You know, I’ve been thinking. When all this is over, and we’re just rolling in the dough…I’m gonna get a new board and I’m gonna deck it out. And I’m gonna go on a surf trip.” His head leaned back against the crate behind him, his hair sticking to the back of his neck and his once wildly untamed hair clumping together in a wet mess.
I gave him a look, leaning forward on my palms and smiling at him, I let my eyes wander around the container.
“I don’t know where, but like, the worlds callin’.” He smiled, dissociating for a second and letting his smile fade. Slipping away for only a moment. “I don’t…name a place.” He was back, the same toothy grin as before, the same glistening shine in his blue eyes.
I thought for a second, blowing air through my lips.
“Spain.” I nodded my head.
“Then, after Spain…South America or South Africa, you know-“
“You’re gonna go to South Africa?” I interrupted with a teasing smile, partially shocked that JJ ever wanted to go away so far.
“Or one of the south places.” He defended himself. “A-and then Micronesia maybe. And then, just ride…wherever the wave takes you.” He looked down at his ring clad hands, twisting them nervously like he might have doubts that his dreams were stupid, unachievable.
I smiled at him even when he wasn’t looking because I believed everything he said. I knew that one day, he would go out just like he said and catch the best swells around the globe.
“Y’know?” He looked up finally, catching my grin.
“So that’s the plan—if we were to get a ton of cash?” I asked, looking away from him again. “That’s the dream?” I said it like a question, though, really I was agreeing with everything he said. It sounded like a dream. “Surf trip.”
“Bamboo hut…cooking a fish on a fire and…after that you go back out and just hit the waves again.” He moved his hands wildly as he spoke, building his dream in his mind with just the wiggling of his fingers. I rolled my eyes playfully.
“That’s the dream.” He confirmed, his voice lowering slightly, and I knew he was serious.
“Sounds perfect.” I agreed softly.
“Yeah.”
“Got room for one more?” I shrugged, asking honestly despite the light smile on my face. JJ simply laughed, smiling and looking back up from his lap to meet my eyes. I watched how his smile dropped when he saw how serious I was.
“You got your passport?” He asked, and it made me laugh this time.
“You don’t got a passport.” I teased.
“Hell no I don’t got a passport! The Kookiest thing ever.” He smiled, and I felt myself laughing from my stomach. A real, happy laugh that I hadn’t felt bubbling up since I was a little girl. Since before all the guns and allegations, and prison sentences, and near death experiences.
Sometimes I wondered what I would think of JJ, if I didn’t know him. Sometimes, I feared that if I had been born on the other side of the island, if my parents could afford a nicer house, if I lived just nearly two neighborhoods over, would I be just like everyone else?
Would I have thought of him as just another Maybank? Surely, if told his dreams to Topper or Kelce, they’d laugh and call him nothing greater than his old man. I thought he was a great deal more than Luke ever was, but would I think that if I had more money in my pocket?
I decided that I would, because the look in his eyes told me I would have. They were blue, sure, but they were the most trusting, truest eyes I’d ever seen. Maybe that’s why he knew he was a good liar, because he had the doe eyes down, but he couldn’t fool me any more than he could fool John B, Kiara, or Pope.
JJ Maybank had been the center of my universe since he had dropped down right front and center of me, since he had wandered into my life and claimed that we were to be best friends forever without leaving any room for argument.
I knew that I would have found him in any life. Because I know JJ Maybank better than anyone ever has, and he knows me more than I know myself.
When he sighed and fought against the “B-Team” I faked my offense, because though I knew he was itching for action, we’d get to share a tender moment like this together, just locked up in a hot box with no room the breathe and no wind to cool us down.
I craved our conversations like he craved the chaos, and I clawed my way into his heart because since the moment I met him I understood how special he was to me. He’s so, undeniably special.
“The Kookiest.” I agreed softly, letting my head fall back and my eyes close again, content with the feeling of my beating heart racing for him.
Maybe being the B-Team wasn’t the worst, because then the only worry was trying to maintain a steady temperature and keep myself from swaying my way to the floor. Heat stroke seemed a lot less scary than this.
JJ quieted me down, though, I hadn’t said a word, and his pointer pressing against his lips reminded me that maybe he shouldn’t be leading us around the boat, completely exposed to danger, and so I snuck around him and squeeze through the thin passageway, ignoring his whisper-shouting protests.
Our bodied pressed flat against the side of the upper deck walls, my head stretched around the corner to view the empty deck ahead of us.
“Clear?” He asked softly, and I nodded my head quickly.
We ran on our toes, walking light on our feet to avoid the loud slapping of boots against metal. JJ fell behind me slightly as he spun around, paranoid of the potential of someone following behind.
“Jay, come on.” I mumbled desperately, feeling the stress falling down on me.
We turned the corner quickly, JJ turning to look over the railing for John B on a lifeboat, our getaway car, only to be met with open water. Our breathing echoed between our ears, neither of us heard the harsh slapping of extra feet plowing down the stairs ahead.
“I don’t see them.” He announced, all too loudly.
I froze in the presence of a taller man with untamed hair and scruffy facial hair.
“JJ…” I warned, squaring my shoulders off as he stepped in line with me. No one made any movement for a split moment.
“Jayj…” I said a little more desperately as the man unsheathed his machete, only drawing JJ’s in closer, a fein for danger, and a junkie for risk.
“Of course…” The man began to speak, his brows furrowing. “There’s more of you.”
JJ and I shared a look, our faced contorted in an unspoken agreement that we understood the numbers here. Two against one was a safe bet, though the factor of his blade made me squirm a little.
“Get down on your knees.” The man instructed, and I wanted to laugh.
“Yeah, thats not gonna happen!” JJ’s words became shorter as he took a step back, the man’s slow approach sending both of us in fight or flight. I knew from the first glance what JJ would choose.
The man swung violently, aiming down on JJ’s shoulders with a quick blow, but missing as he ducked and shifted to the left. The machete made a loud clanging sound as it hit the metal floor.
He swung again, this time at me, but he was already off balance, swinging aimlessly at someone who wasn’t there. My hands pushed down against his arm, keeping him and the weapon pinned to the wall of the boat, right against a closed compartment that looked like it was hiding electrical cables.
Grunting as he fought against my hands, JJ wound up and struck the man with his bare knuckles, hitting him square in the jaw. His hands braced the mans shoulders, our eyes meeting in the chaotic scene, another unspoken plan shared between our glances.
“Hit him, Y/n/n!” He instructed, and as JJ pulled the man back, I opened the compartment where his hand had been, smacking him dead center in his face so hard, it echoed through my ears. I couldn’t help but grimace to myself.
“Wheres John B?” JJ shouted, his voice rough with anger. He shifted from foot to foot, hands drawn in a position ready to swing, even with the man helplessly lying on the ground.
I ran to the edge of the boat, my palms bracing myself over the edge, the empty water making my stomach drop. I wondered helplessly what was holding the others up as JJ and I fought on borrowed time.
“John B!” I shouted, my voiced strained.
I heard the sound of hair moving quickly, the cut of a blade slicing above JJ’s head as he once again ducked, but this time, we weren’t as lucky. With a kick to the gut, JJ went flying back, his head bouncing off the side of the railing. He sat with his hand cradling the back of his head.
“Y/n/n!” He alerted me. Turning on my feet, the man was closer to me than before, his gaze deadly and set solely on me.
He swung once, twice, missing with each violent stroke of the blade. I ducked the best I could, growing more confident as the pain of connection never came, but I grew too overconfident. I spend too much time with JJ, I guess.
The sting came quickly, a burning pain that ripped through my skin and sunk deep past the tissue. I screamed out in a broken cry of desperation, my fingers gripping my shoulder in agony.
The man swung again, only to be pulled away by the blond boy once again, his arms swallowing him whole from the back. Their grunts were the only other thing I could hear past the beating of my heart, yet, seeing the man elbow JJ in his sternum hurt more than the wound that bled out between my red fingers.
He had JJ winded, and with one swift turn, he tried to take me one more time.
I ducked, and watched in horror as the blunt end sent JJ flying over the edge of the boat, nearly three stories until the splash sounded from the deck.
The man came at me again, the dance becoming all too repetitive as the sole of my shoe connected with his stomach. He stumbled into the ground, lying flat. I raced to the edge, the sight below me sickening.
There JJ was, floating on his stomach, his head below the surface, unmoving and sinking slowly. The waves look him in every direction, and all that filled my mind was the silent begging that he would flip.
“JJ!” I screamed, trying to wake him as if the water wasn’t filling his ears. The water around him bubbled, the deep blue a bright white from the impact, his old tank top lifting to reveal the shape of his back.
He didn’t move, he didn’t respond, and my feet met the top of the railing on the boat. I didn’t even think, I didn’t register all the danger below the surface, how stupid it was to jump into the open water with no guarantee that John B would ever show up, but it didn’t matter because I couldn’t stop it. I was hitting the water regardless of how fearful I was of the cold.
“JJ!” Water fell out of my mouth in heaving splatters of coughing fits, my hair glued flat against my skin and my clothes clinging to every inch of my body. I would be lying if I said the impact didn’t hurt, if the salt water didn’t burn the harsh aching in my shoulder.
“Jayj!” With my good arm, I pulled the blond boy into my body, laying his head back against my shoulder to keep him above the surface, to get some air into his lungs.
“Jayj?” My other hand came to grab his face, and my thighs burned with how viciously they cut through the water, treading painfully harsh to keep us afloat. His limp body drifted against mine, and the gentle tangle of our limbs made it harder to swim.
“Jayj, stay with me!” I dropped his cheek, needing the extra hand to keep us above the water. With no help around and only the unfamiliar waters to call home, I felt a bile rise in my throat, like I could vomit if my stomach wasn’t so empty, if hungry was a feeling I had grown to know.
“Please!” I gritted my teeth, feeling my head drip under the gentle waves for a moment, it stung when I opened my eyes again. “JJ, please!” I cried out, taking in every breath of air like it was a gift.
“Stay with me, stay with me!” I grunted, using all my strength. I debated letting the water take me, if only I could extend my arms to keep him a float, I would let myself drown.
My thighs burned, and my arms were too shaky to hold on for much longer. My brows furrowed and my nose burned, a familiar ache in my lungs. I knew crying would do me no good, but as my chest became hollow, I felt my tears mix with the oceans waves drowning out my face.
Everything hurt. Hurt in a way, I could never explain. It was like I could feel each edge of my heart giving out and the sharp cuts of every wheeze that huffed past my cracking lips.
The water was red. Redder than I’d ever seen the ocean because water isn’t red. Maybe it was the cut from his head staining the once vibrant seas a dark maroon, but I could see it swirling in delicate droplets down my arm, I could feel the stickiness even in the salty surroundings.
But there was also fear. Fear that my best wasn’t enough, fear that I would become inclined to give up, because giving up is much sweeter when you have the option. Dying never is. Not even when you want to. Having the urge doesn’t make the pain less scary, and so I kick restlessly to keep the both of us up.
“John B’s coming, John B’s coming, okay?” I assured the empty crowd, JJ completely unaware of the distress of the situation as he lay lifeless in my weakened arms.
His arms floated with the movement of the ocean, his hair covering his eyes. The blond hair that I adored, ran my hands through and ruffled was darker now that it was wet. Not in the way it was when he surfed, but drenched. Stuck to his skin and covering his forehead.
With one strong kick, I gained enough power to lift us up just a bit higher from the surface. My shaky hand brushed the hair from his face.
“John B!” I call out as I steal another glance at his paling face, a red stain spreading on his temple from the blow of the blade, leaking down and staining my own cheek from how close he is to me.
“Help!”
The motor of a boat catches my ear, but my lungs have given up and I’ve already sunk so far below the water, our heads are barely breaking surface.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” I pant out, my eyes shutting like it would do us any good. I could have let him go, I could have carried my own weight a moment longer, but with every doubting thought, my hands only held onto him tighter, a silent refusal to give up on him, even if it meant letting the darkness consume me.
Kiara would have yelled at me, and been proud all at once. She would have called me stupid for risking my life for someone so reckless, but then she would have clapped me on the back and said it was what any of us would have done. Pogues for life and all that.
I really missed her now, I wished she was here to scold me, I wished I wasn’t so alone.
“Hey! JJ!” A chorus of cries for us rang throughout the distance, the motor boat approaching as the others all cried out for JJ, my head slipping below the waves.
“No, no, no, no!” John B’s voice broke, the weight on my shoulder lifting, I saw Pope and John B lift him from the water through the stinging of my blurry vision, I felt him leaving my grip, but my hands only grabbed onto him harder.
Subconsciously, I couldn’t let him go. It was only hurting the both of us, we were saved, the Pogues finally finding their way to us, but part of my brain couldn’t comprehend that it was all ending soon because it was all going black. My vision, my heart, my mind.
But just before the water could suck me down, Kiara pulled me on board, her hands grabbing onto me like I had grabbed onto JJ.
“Y/n, holy shit.” Her voice shook with concern. Where her knuckles had held onto me, where my shirt was wrinkled wetly between her fingers, came the slow oozing of deep maroon down my skin, staining everything it touched.
It smeared around with every rock of the boat, and I swore I felt myself swaying. Kiara said something about the depth of the wound, how she thought she saw bone. It blurred like my vision, my lips parting only to shut at the sound of Pope and John B’s distress.
JJ laid still with his head propped up against the edge of the boat, eyes shut just as they were in the water, his eyelashes laying curled against his wet cheek.
The sight gave me a second wind, my hands craved to feel the weight of his body in my arms, to feel the warmth of his skin against my finger tips tor remind me he was here.
“JJ, no, come on!” I begged through broken tears. “Please, get up!” My hands tapped on his chest, though I was ready to press my lips against his and give him all my air if I needed to.
I crawled to him like I needed him to breathe, my knuckles scraping across the bottom of the boat, bruises and cuts littering my pruning skin. I clung to him like a vice, my lips wobbling like a child.
“Get up!” I shouted, scolding him like a mother. Yet, the brokenness of my voice seemed to carry into his empty head as his drool spilled out of his lips, spitting up onto his chest as he gained his bearings.
It was gross, the salt water mixed with the slimy drool dripping from his mouth and wetting his soaked tank top beyond what it was, but I had never seen a more relieving sight. My best friend drooling all over himself, but god, he was alive and that’s all that mattered.
The boat seemed to fall quiet for a moment, all in awe of his return, all following the wavering gaze that swept over the small boat. He was out of it, for sure. His eyes carrying a sense of question beyond what he usually held, but as he registered the faces around him as his closest friends, his family, the panic seemed to fade into a mellow knowing.
“Yeah, yeah! Cough it out, cough it out baby!” John B encouraged, a sea of instructions following from the others in a desperate hurry, all reaching over to simply feel for a steady thumping of a pulse.
I sat back on my heels, looking down at him, and revoking my warm touch from his chest quickly. Retracting it with uncertainty that it would hurt him, like he was fragile.
“Welcome to the land of the living, dude.” Pope smiled, earning a side eye from JJ as he looked around to find his friends all looking down at him with concerned gazes.
My fingers shook, hovering over his chest like I didn’t know if it was right to touch him, if I had the right. I’d felt my own chest caving in just minuted ago, I wondered if I dared to rest my palms against his skin, would he feel the same?
I laid a hand on his shoulder, and watched his vision dance from where we touched to my face, taking a moment to breathe in my presence.
“Hi.” I breathed out in relief, but also something deeper that I didn’t have the words to describe.
“‘Sup.” JJ said, his usually cool demeanor meaning nothing to me at the moment. I pushed his head away gently, still all too aware of the wound leaking from his temple, the way the blood seemed to stain everything. His hair, his skin, his stupid shirt. It tainted everything good with the memories of the bad, the unforgettable, the hurt. But I couldn’t stay away for too long.
As soon as the smile cross his golden features, my arms wrapped around his face like a blanket, holding him to my chest to feel how fast he had my heart beating. He didn’t mention the drumming against his ear, but the warmth that spread across his face told me he felt it, he knew the feeling all too well. Maybe if I had the courage to rest my hands over his heart, I would have known.
I thought of the surf trip, of his dreams, of the gold, of everything that he ever wanted, and I sweat at the thought of it never happening. I crumbled at the idea of him not getting to be a forever given in my life, of him only being a fraction of time, when I wanted it all.
“Don’t ever do that again.” I mumbled against his wet hair, but I don’t think he heard it over the chatter between him and John B, the laughter from Sarah all too loud to hear my soft whisper, a confession that really wasn’t much, but carried the weight of all my emotions.
If he did, he didn’t mention it. He was good at not mentioning it, but he was bad at forgetting.
“You’re bleeding all over the sand, Y/n.” Sarah pointed out, stepping out of the boat, allowing JJ and her husband-to-be to drag the long dead motorboat onto the shore.
An island to call home and a tropical paradise to explore for however long the summer would last and the warmth would suffice.
I was the first to let the water reach my shins, practically jumping out of the boat in a rush, an overwhelming need to feel the ground between my toes, to rinse off the grime and hurt from the failed mission. One cross gone and another home taken.
My body lay starfish position on the soft surface, my shoulder still open and aching, but dulling over time. It didn’t feel that bad anymore, and I was sure the ringing in my ears was just from the adrenaline, though, I’d never heard it before.
“That’s nasty, shes right.” Kiara agreed, trying to tug me up by the arm, only to stretch out my collar bone and earn a lazy grunt from my lips. If I were as smart as I had been prior to the stress, prior to the fact of the pact of the B Team, prior to all the shared dreams and promises to make it out, I would have asked Cleo or Pope to help mend my wounds.
Now, I just felt ready to die. Let my life wash away into the open ocean and let the jellyfish drink me up. Let the sea turtles consume me and share the same bliss of a high that I did with my friends.
“Circle of life.” I grunted, my cheek covered in sand, I buried my face into the dirt. “It’s an early Thanksgiving for the seagulls.”
“You’re so dramatic.” Kiara kicked my hip lightly, trying to move the rock of a being I had become.
“Yeah, and not everyone celebrates Thanksgiving.” Cleo joked from a distance, already gathering wood and stone for a fire. It would be dark soon anyway.
“My joints hurt.” I complained drowsily.
“No shit, I can practically see your bone. Get up.” Kiara fought, turning her head to call for back up from someone with the power to move me from my dormant headspace.
“John B, Pope!” Kiara called out with an annoyed expression, and I found myself smiling at the way her face grew fuzzier and the sounds all became one loud booming ring in my ears.
It hurt so good, a warmth covering my body like a blanket, a reward after fighting so hard. If death found me, I found it peaceful. Ready to be consumed by the darkness to avoid the haunting memory of the limp body floating in my arms. To forget about the way my heart clenched beyond repair.
It wasn’t like, it was love. I’d always known it deep down, but now I knew I could put a name to the feeling, and it terrified me. Because it replayed every second of JJ’s life slipping away, and somehow, it left out the part where he came to.
I could barely make out the shape of the trees anymore. Everything became one big collage in the sky.
“John B! JJ!” Kiara looked back, stunned by the look in my eyes, the same look that had been in JJ’s before he was taken by the waves. A look that would have haunted me for a lifetime. It now tormented Kiara.
It was a look of slipping, of giving up, giving out. The end, even.
“Help!” She cried out desperately, watching the clumsy boys scramble to the ground and catch their bearings, hands digging through the dirt to get to me.
“What happened?” Pope called out, his concerned hands holding Kiara’s shoulders and his love sick gaze failing to focus on what really matters.
Isn’t that funny? I spent all my time focused on JJ, my own gaze stuck in the permanent focus of only him. I didn’t even care to feel the pain tearing away at my skin and my bones. I barely even noticed it after a while. It became nothing compared to the something I almost lost.
Now, as I lay in the sand, choking on my breath in agonizing pain that slowly seeps through in waves, I watch through blurred vision as Pope does the same.
It seemed that it just now snapped in everyone’s mind that the maroon pooling around my arm wasn’t normal. It wasn’t like the scrapes from sharp rocks in the surges, or the nasty head wounds from countless drunken dares to climb things that shouldn’t even be looked at while sober.
The bubbling, and the smell, the metaling smell, it was sickening, and it wasn’t normal. Adrenaline can only get you so far, and hell, I’d already spent it all up.
“Y/n/n!” I heard a familiar voice, rough with exhaustion but stronger now that the day was beginning to wash over and the pain was beginning to creep away.
His dirty hands pressed hard against my skin, his delayed nature only slipping his hand over the one place it shouldn’t have been. Touch me anywhere, make me feel okay, like this isn’t really the end, but please, don’t dig your fingers around in the wound I have just for you.
It only makes things harder to mend.
“JJ!” Sarah screamed, and I threw my head back, screaming.
It hurt worse than anything, the feeling of nail against flesh. It stung more than any jellyfish and it scratched sharper than any knife. Thousands of needles shot down my veins, my knuckles stuttering into a pitiful fist.
“Stop! Stop!” I cried, my whole body shaking—no, my whole body collapsing in on itself. Folding into the earth in order to run away from the pain.
“I’m trying to help, stop squirming like a fish!” He stressed, the creases by his brow showing the wear from the evening already, we all felt as though we’d aged a century in a minute.
“Get off of me!” I tried to reach over, I didn’t want his dead hands on my cold body. I didn’t want his limp fingers rubbing against my moving joints. I didn’t want to feel what I felt in the water, and I didn’t want to see it either.
“Please, get off!” I shouted, my voice breaking like a fragile thing. A thin layer, a brittle sheet of clay crumbling under the weight of the hands that once so tenderly shaped it.
Dying does a funny thing to the mind, especially in a panic. You spend all your time trying to remember to breathe, you forget reality. Even though he was kneeling down beside me, digging around under my skin and arguing back harshly words he meant as sentiment in his overwhelming stress, to me, I had convinced myself he was dead. I didn’t do it, I couldn’t save him, I let those thoughts of giving up consume us and I watched him die in my arms.
There is no boat ride, there is no island, there is no nothing. There is only before, and the end. There is no after. Forget the fact the blood is sticking to everything, and the fact that I’ve felt John B’s cold rings slapping hard across my cheekbones to keep me aware of myself, everything is all nothing and I hear nothing but the sound of my ragged breath wheezing and my horrible cries echoing, bouncing off the Pogues.
Pope took over, finally getting his brains back. The scarecrow held firm pressure over the wound, evenly spread along my arm in a way that stung, but never scratched, never matted the fur of my mane or cut off my skin. He spoke so quickly, and it was so muffled, I began to want to hear him, take the trip down the yellow brick road and find the courage to stay.
Then, there was the ripping of a shirt. It was dark, and rough, but worn in so it felt softer that way. Then, more pain, more pressure, and then, nothing.
But this wasn’t death, because I could still hear and feel and taste the spit on my tongue, the salt water that washed everything I bit down on away. I was still there, but now, I could feel myself calming down, drowning out the silence and coming back to the truth.
“Have you considered a career as a EMT?” I panted, my heavy eyes flickering up to Popes reforming face, the hay and the straw hat fading away into just the kind boy I loved. The yellow road becoming the soft, now wet, sand beneath my back.
He smiled like a dope, clicking his tongue and showing his toothy grin. Relief was the only word to describe the silence that fell over the group at that moment, silence that felt heavy to everyone but the victim. Silence that I felt on the boat.
“I hate you.” He laughed, punching me between the ribs with a force that only could be equated to the fact that he wasn’t a liar, and it was obvious he was on the math team, not an athlete.
“No you don’t.”
My body curled up in laughter, nose scrunched and aware of the extreme caution that was required to keep my arm from splitting apart. I tried to argue back, but my words fell short on choked laughter, letting Kiara hoist me up by the waist and feeling her wet bracelets press against my warm skin. JJ simply walked away, all too quiet for a boy who never knew silence in his life.
I didn’t press him.
“Can I sit?”
Days had passed, water lapped at the shore, quenching the insurmountable thirst of the dry land before it. The wind blew softly against the greenery, and the birds sung out, diving into the distant waters for their supper.
JJ sat with his knees pulled to his chest, arms thrown over the bend lazily, hands fiddling with a sharpened stick he had been working incessantly on since he’d finished his first project, a white waving flag that read, Pougelandia.
The wind blew up the end of his shirt, a cut off tank top that once fell to his mid thigh now rested loosely at his tanned hips, ripped unevenly across the dark stitching.
He breathed evenly, eyes not even flickering over to meet mine, not a word shared between us. A dream of surf expenditures and found family adventures. We talked of island paradise when all smoothed over. When the earth buried our blood and tears, and the sting began to slip away.
There was happiness, beyond the blood and bruise, past the curses and cries. Beyond the terror of the swift nightfall, the impending cold that would have brought any surviving energy away from our warm bodies. There was calm.
He promised to make boards with dried wood, to carve them by hand, break them with his knuckles. The wood was rotting, and it was cracking quickly.
Once again, dreams were altered to fit the shitty hand that was dealt. The rich became richer, and our frames became thinner.
The world spat in our face and said it was the wind.
I sat down beside him now, and it was unusually quiet between us. I guess, this was better than the forever silence, the six feet of separation that I wanted nothing more than to leave behind. He couldn’t even see me.
“Did I do something?” I asked quietly, voiced drowned out by the sound of the sea, the distant hollers of our friends echoing above the trees. I wished I could see everything for what it is, but I had not a clue, a fool sitting beside my uncharacteristically empty best friend.
“No.” He answered plainly.
“No?” I asked, begged practically for confirmation. He nodded his head, agreeing, but it was unclear if it was an agreement within a disagreement.
“Are you sure?”
“Yup.” He popped the ‘p’, bitter, I could see it more clearly now in my new found focus.
“I can’t make it go away if you don’t tell me, Jay.” I smiled, laughing like it was a pity for us to be so awkward. And it was, it was so fucking weird. Fake niceties are weird.
Leaning forward to mirror how he sat, I tried to get a forward perspective of the furrow between his brows. He brushed the space below his nose and sniffed like he was annoyed. It reminded me of the boy who held up the cross with his bare hands on the ship, the boy who had aimed a gun at the kids he grew up with, his own sister too. His anger reminded me a lot of a Camerons anger, and I figured he had enough reason to feel stressed, he had all the reason to show it.
“This isn’t Kildare.” I reminded him.
“I know.”
“It’s just us.” I added.
“I know.” He nearly snapped, fingers tingling with annoyance, anger, grief even. It was a dying fuse ready to explode, to burn it all down.
We sat in silence for a moment, and I hoped he would speak. Rarely, we had fights. Usually they were stupid, ending in us laughing and my hips thrown over his shoulder. He never hit and neither did I, neither of us even tempted the idea. If we needed space, we gave it, though, it never lasted long because we craved each other like a dog to its owner. Like a moth to a flame, we always came back.
Still, I hoped he would speak first. I felt like I was doing most of it, carrying the conversation for five people while only speaking to one. When he remained quiet, trying to reel it in, I broke the tension.
“You can tell me what’s wrong, Jay. I’ll be here. It’s not like I could leave even if I wanted to.”
If I hadn’t lost my life, I had lost my ability to read the room, because my weak joke fell so flat, it might as well have served as the boards we never got to make together, the memories we would never get to experience. It rotted into his mind and left something so disgusting to him, I could read it on his face.
“No, no but you could.” Sand kicked up behind his heels, hands pushing up off of his knees, knuckles bruised and palmed sandy. He was scruffier than usual, but the blues of his eyes were all the same, dappled with the flickers of light I had fallen in love with so long ago.
“What?” I laughed, standing up slowly, but then jerking forward once I saw how quickly he was creating distance between us.
If we weren’t alone then, I was sure he had led us into total solidarity.
The trees were thicker here, the shoreline rocky and short, even at low tide. It would be completely gone in a few minutes when the tide would start rolling in. I could feel the water trying to break free against the soles of my shoes every time a larger wave came crashing through, between the overhangs and vines that tried and failed to barricade the sacred land.
“Because you did leave, Y/n. You left.”
JJ turned around, his hand pointing to my heart and his eyes avoiding contact where the cloth was wound tightly around my skin and bone. The shirt he tore to let me wear and to let me feel put together again. He stepped closer, closing the distance between us.
I caught the way his eyes seemed to shine more delicately in the reflection of the ocean, the way the wind blew against his blonde locks, the same shining color as his heart of gold. A loyal, fiercely protective friend who was crumbling at the mere idea that abandonment could always win, even though the people he believed would never leave.
“You left.” He repeated more quietly, his lower lip wobbling with such an intensity, I felt the bile rising up in my throat.
“I didn’t leave.” I defended quietly between choked breaths. “How could you think I would leave? I would never leave you, I wouldn’t want to.”
“Then what was that then?”
His head turned to look out at the horizon, biting down harshly on his teeth and sucking in a sharp breath through his nose. His weight shifted from left to right, fists clenching and unclenching by his side, conflict evident in his face. His brows were drawn in so tightly, his face scrunched up almost like he was in pain, like he couldn’t even fight anymore, I watched the internal battle between strength and hurt argue over who got control over his brain. I could tell which had already won his heart.
“I watched you there, Y/n. I saw the…the blood and the tears. I saw all of it, you were dead. You died.”
I shook my head, feeling a familiar lump forming in the base of my throat. Everything seemed to burn. From my sweaty palms to the flare of my nostrils and the back of my skull. It all ached dully, inflamed by the accusation that I had truly given up, that I had been gone with no intention to come rescue him.
“I was there.” My voice broke, my eyebrows pulled down in a deep frown. My palm instinctively came to cup my wound, and my fingers cupped around the fabric, pulling down gently to let the pain breathe.
Never in our decade of friendship had I ever felt so alone from JJ. We were on other worlds and it was clear, and it was something I hated being accustomed to. We were so alike, but so different in this moment. Together but so far apart. Like January and December, one after the other, following like ducks but with the distance of a lifetime between.
“I was there, I saw you standing over me.”
“You pushed me away, you didn’t need me! You didn’t want me. I saw the look in your eyes. You wanted to leave. You were okay with leaving!” JJ shouted, his voice booming. I wondered if it had the power to carry over to the others and reveal our argument to everyone. We were too far away, and I was thankful for that because I knew whatever was coming wasn’t going to be kind. I could feel the bubbling pressure building in my chest like a hot rock sizzling my flesh from the inside out, and it wanted to sink through if I didn’t spit it out.
“Can you blame me?” I cried out, tears falling from my water line in a stream of pain that cut deeper than any blade had. “I was in pain, JJ! I was in so much fucking pain! I was bleeding out, in a place I don’t know, and I’ve never felt more alone! I couldn’t breathe, JJ. I couldn’t hear anything, I couldn’t see. Why is it selfish to not want to want to suffer, when I would wish you the same peace if it were to happen to you.”
JJ’s chin wrinkled in sadness, wetting his lips with his tongue and blinking back his own tears. I had so much to say and only so much air in my lungs. Only so much I could choke on before it all came out.
“The worst part is, I thought you were dead. If the damn blade didn’t kill me, you would have because I would rather die than have to live the next eternity without you by my side. I thought…I thought I failed you, and I couldn’t even look anyone in the eye because all I could see was your face in the water. Do you know how terrifying that was? To have your limp body weighing me down in the ocean? My best friend, my buddy, the only person I’d ever want to bother me like you do. Dead, all because of me? Do you know how guilty I’ve been? How guilty you’ve made me? I’m a god damn monster, and it’s a shame I turned out like I did because I had the potential to be something like you. But I can’t be because I’m a failure. Because even for even for a moment, I was thinking that maybe we would both be better off if I just gave up? If I let the ocean take us because god, if the light hasn’t been kind then the darkness can at least give me some damn peace!”
We both fell quiet now. My chest heaved with anxiety. My bones felt heavy, I felt heavy. I felt stupid, and I knew nothing I was saying made sense. It was all mindless rambling about everything I’d been mulling over for what felt like years.
“I love you. A-and I mean that in a way that I’ve never known before, and that fucking terrifies me. It terrifies me that theres always a chance that one day I won’t have the privilege to lay next to you, or-or to sit with you on the porch at John B’s and just talk about things that don’t matter like they do. Like, I love you, dude! And I can’t act like I don’t anymore. I thought…I thought that if I pushed it down, if I ignored it then maybe I could forget about it, but I can’t. Because the truth is I’ve always loved you. And I’m sorry if this means everything has been a lie, if I’m a fraud but I can’t pretend like I wouldn’t die for you, because I would and I tried.”
“I’m sorry, what?” JJ breathed, eyes wide and lips parted. He was shocked, and so was I. There was no going back, it was eat the words or let the words eat me. The truth was out, and I couldn’t deny it.
“I love you.”
Silence. Every moment led me here, to this island. Every time I grabbed onto the back of his jacket to steady myself, or the times I pawed at his chest to get him to stop trying to antagonize the Kooks. I followed him to the ends of the earth, literally. That was proof of my love, if not, it proved my devotion.
“I’m sorry.” JJ whispered back. His eyes shined with freckles of light from the waves and the stars and the sun. He couldn’t say it back, and I knew why because I know him, but we both knew what he meant to say with his apology.
“Me too.” I breathed out.
Often, our friends would poke fun that we couldn’t keep it under wraps around each other. That our lingering touches and fleeting glances were too romantic to be a friendly gesture. Maybe part of their teasing was right, but not completely.
Stepping forward in the sand, I felt the warmth of his arms pulling me into his chest, the strength and the kindness familiar, but the touches deeper and different. Where we once dappled with affection became a feeling that dominated now. We’d stood like this before, but with the confession hanging between our lips, everything was different.
His breathing, his gaze, the curve of his lips, the tucking of his nose against my cheek. We bumped noses blindly, his fingers dancing up my spine to the small of my back. I felt his eyelashes tickle my skin before I felt the rough-soft mixture of his lips pressing against mine.
It felt like something out of a movie, like fantasy. All those stupid stories I’d never believed where the lovers fit together perfectly made complete sense now as we molded together with a dance we knew all too well.
My hands reached for the back of his neck desperately, pawing at whatever curves I could get a grip on. It was slow, a steady pour of the heart into each other and completely intoxicating up until the moment we split apart for air.
“I should die more often if you’ll kiss me like that.” I joked, laughing into the crook of his neck.
“Nah, you don’t gotta do all that anymore.” He promised.
Affection was never our thing, love was foreign and forgiveness came hard. We held grudges and fought secrets for each other, and in the end, it’s what made us make perfect sense.
I look at JJ now in the dimming light above the ocean, and I no longer see the reflection of his empty gaze and heavy body. I see adoration, a softness that I’d always failed to recognize before.
“Jay?” I mumbled, chasing his lips again. He hummed against my skin, warm air tickling my body.
“Save it for the surf trip, okay?” I teased.
He growled playfully, squeezing the curves of my hips and nipping at my shoulder.
“You’re gonna be the death of me.”
I laughed.
“I’d save you.”
“Maybe.” JJ smiled, beaming with love.
After a moment of silence in each others arms, I felt his chest expand with a calm breath, and the stutter in mine silenced whatever thought he was about to blurt out impulsively.
“We should probably really consider getting passports.” I suggested softly, still longing for the surf trip with my best friend.
“Hell no, thats some kook bullshit” He argued softly, his smile still stretched against my skin.
“The kookiest.” I agreed.
I felt JJ pull away to breathe in the salty air. His eyes remained trained on mine, and the look gave me deja vu to a time not so long ago. A look we shared in the sweltering confinements of the cargo ship container. Only, now that I wasn’t blinded by a mixture of excitement for the treasure and the fear of failure, I could see the real gold in front of me. I could understand the gravity of his gaze.
A look that would fluster me for a life time.
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