Tumgik
#i mentioned something about how i’ve spent time with him instead of my friends when he’s visiting us and he was like ‘you have friends?’
parasolids · 1 month
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i am having a genuine core memory type of bad day today like serious SERIOUS things are going down and i missed a flight because genuine life changing events are happening and got put on standby for another which got delayed multiple times til i would’ve missed my connecting flight home and anyways it was overbooked so i didn’t make it on, and then now five hours after they left me at the airport im finally heading home and i was like “well at least i can eat the fries i bought that i didn’t get to eat yesterday” but my useless cousin who has not only been completely useless through this weeks long ordeal but has also been making things worse stepped in and ate the whole giant box of fries cause he “thought we were leaving” even though my mom clearly left half her stuff behind at the house and told him we did not make our flight so she was going to stay in town and try and get me home and also this whole situation (except for the fries) is straight up my fault cause i didn’t wanna get out of bed for 20 minutes when we woke up and like normally this would be fine especially since i went to bed at 2 am packing suitcases and then had to wake up at 7 and also slept super poorly anyways but i still have no self discipline and everything has gone wrong because of that
#i should be freshly showered and in bed right now having a good cry#i’m genuinely seething at my cousin btw we keep asking him to do the most basic things and he makes some excuse#and then it turns out to be a lie#like my cousin is stronger/bigger than i am so my mom wanted his help w the suitcases#and we went out for one last dinner last night but he kept telling my mom he wanted to go home and sleep bc his job starts early#and getting irritated at her when she tried to take two minutes to finish eating#anyways we went home early and he did not go to bed. we could hear him gaming and yelling at the computer til we went to bed at 2 am#and his job starts at 3 am so he can’t have actually been worried about sleeping#oh he also just didn’t go to work and this is like a repeated occurrence#and he didn’t bother seeing us off to the airport or wake up til like 11#when i called him saying we needed him to bring my passport and it was an emergency#idk this all seems like super trivial but my mom is straight up handling a tragedy alone#i won’t deny that i haven’t really been useful but i’ve been coming along everywhere on top of remote working from here#meanwhile he’s kinda just been at home gaming and not leaving his room#i can kind of excuse his brother who’s also been at home but he’s also like super obviously been prepping for a super rough final and idk#ughhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. can you at least have some decency and like#try not to pile more work on my mother who is dealing with one of the worst things that can happen to her#and try to use your parents not being around as an excuse to run around town with your friends#while lying to my mom and saying you need to sleep or work or yeah you’ll be straight home (you’re going for lunch with your buds)#i mentioned something about how i’ve spent time with him instead of my friends when he’s visiting us and he was like ‘you have friends?’#i don’t know man i can’t cry in bed i can’t sleep cause they keep the house cold#basic functioning is making me miserable with the brain issues i don’t know what to do#cause if i go home im going to be in the exact same situation just#with a better bathroom and a guitar and feeling useless and sad because i can’t help#anyways i need to text my boss to let her know no shot i can make it tomorrow#which feels awful cause i was supposed to get back A WEEK AGO i had to extend i hate it here i hate it here i hate it here
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y2kuromi · 6 months
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⭑ : 呪術廻戦 ❛ 𝗟𝗜𝗘𝗕𝗘𝗦𝗧𝗥𝗔𝗨𝗠𝗘 : satoru gojo x fem! reader
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࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 synopsis: yuuji sees a completely different side of gojo-sensei !
contents: tooth rotting fluff w a dash of angst! established relationship (married), second person & told from yuuji’s pov. extremely whipped satoru! petnames, suggestive dialogue
summer isn’t over yet! collection, can be read as a stand-alone
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yuuji was initially ecstatic about the prospect of living with gojo-sensei. he’d imagined lazing around, gorging on sweets and watching cartoons on tv — maybe a few training sessions squeezed in with gojo-sensei — ideally it would’ve been just the two of them.
his fantasies came crashing down when realised gojo-sensei’s “house” was actually a “home”. the walls in the foyer were riddled with picture frames. he felt like he was intruding on gojo-sensei’s personal life, but he couldn’t take his eyes off the pictures on the walls.
there was a woman beside gojo-sensei in most of the pictures. she had (e/c) eyes and (h/c) hair. a friend? or a girlfriend? — nah. according to fushiguro, gojo-sensei got zero play. though she had to mean something to him. it was evident in the way he looked at her.
his cerulean eyes entirely averted the camera lens, instead devoted to committing every inch of her to memory
“that’s my wife” gojo said softly,“she’s gorgeous isn’t she?” he laughed wryly as he stared lovingly at the smiling woman in the photo. yuuji nodded slowly, studying his teacher closely.
“is she okay with me hiding out here?” he asked tentatively, shoving his hands in the pockets of his hoodie.
“ahhh about that” gojo says sheepishly, “i haven’t had the time to mention it to her so you’ll have to wait here while i talk to her” he ran a hand through his hair, snowy white tendrils curling around his fingers.
classic gojo-sensei.
“oh” yuuji chuckled, the situation was amusing to him. he couldn’t wait to tell fushiguro — the sour reminder that he couldn’t had his laughter dying in his throat.
gojo-sensei shrugged off his shoes and patted yuuji’s shoulder, “don’t worry she’ll say yes , i’ve got her wrapped around my finger”
yuuji waited patiently in the foyer, amber eyes flickering over the expensive decor and woodsy frames of gojo-sensei’s family. he could faintly make out traces of your conversation
"oh? you're home early for once" you smiled, leaning into your husband as he placed a kiss on your forehead. "what's the special occasion 'toru?"
"do i need a reason to want to see my beautiful wife?”
“nope” you hummed, “‘m just surprised to see you” not that you were complaining. satoru was a busy man and you cherished the rare moments you spent alone together
“how was your day sweets?” he asked, taking your hand in his, his thumb stroked over knuckles, soft, loving.
“same old” you shrugged, “we’ve got some big case coming up next week, so i was pretty busy today. had a tonne of paperwork and meetings too"
"my busy bee" he smiles, "i missed you s'much, i hate going on these stupid business trips"
"you'd like them more if i came with you" you said teasingly, poking his rib with your free hand "i ran into kento the other day, you sure i shouldn't come back to jujutsu sorcery too?"
"nuh uh" he shook his head firmly, "stay at your law firm pretty, 'm gonna need someone to defend me when i kill all the higher ups"
"what have they done now?" you sigh exasperatedly, turning the knob on the gas cooker and reducing the heat. the faint clicking sound echoes in the kitchen as the orange-blue flames simmered quietly.
"what haven't they done" he grumbled, leaning against the counter. he gently tugged at his blindfold, lithe fingers unveiling the cerulean eyes that you loved so much. his snowy hair fell softly around his face, a curtain that failed to hide the anger he felt coursing through his veins.
"poor baby" you cooed, hands trailing up to his face and cupping his cheeks, your fingers smoothed over the frown etched on his face, pushing his lips together in a duck-lipped pout, "wanna tell me about it?"
"y'know yuuji? the new first year that's sukuna's vessel?"
you nod, allowing your hands to fall from his face and rest on the counter. his greedy hands make their way to your waist, rubbing circles on the soft flesh peeking out beneath your untucked dress shirt.
"well they sent the first years on a mission to rescue people from the detention center, after sending me on that stupid mission overseas mind you, and the kid had to fight a special grade curse"
"is he okay?" you ask, hands ghosting over satoru's bigger, veiny ones. he sighs, a look of mild irritation fleeting over his face at the memory. in retrospect, none of that mattered now. he was home.
"yeah he's fine" he shrugs, "sukuna ripped his heart out and he died, but he revived him eventually"
"your definition of fine is questionable satoru" you snicker, and he feels his heart melting at the sound of your laughter. "why'd they send them on that mission anyways?"
"they just want yuuji dead, he was supposed to be executed remember? and they're really scared of sukuna which is crazy 'cause he's kinda weak"
"someone needs to humble you" you say, amusement dripping from your words like honey, "pride comes before fall 'toru"
"you humble me all the time sweets" he grins, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead.
"i'm just doing the universe a favour" you tease, "what do you want for dinner? rice? noodles? or we could order food from that thai joint you like if you want”
"i'll eat anything you cook sweets,” he murmurs, “though i have something else i wouldn’t mind eating”
“satoru” you gasped, “you just got home and you’re already trying to get between my legs” you smack his shoulder playfully
“i’ve missed her too” he shrugs, “i’ve missed all of you”
you shook your head, “can’t believe i married such a feen” a languid smile tugs at the corners of your lips. you could try all you wanted to resist his charms, but he’d always win in the end
"so...about yuuji" satoru starts, testing the waters, "the higher ups really want him gone, i can't keep him at jujutsu tech right now"
"i can see why you wouldn't" you hum, leaning on the tips of your toes to reach for the salt. satoru had a habit of placing the things you needed in places you couldn't reach just so he could have the honour of retrieving them for you
“need help with that sweets?” he asks eagerly, pushing himself off the counter and sifting through the wooden shelves. he easily brings the jar of salt down and hands it to you
"you have to stop doing this, it’s such an inconvenience" you sighed, but you were grateful nonetheless.“you’re insufferable i swear”
“‘m still yours” he says suavely. satoru’s smile is unwavering though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
you can tell the thing with yuuji is weighing heavily on his mind. he’s more restless than usual. his lithe fingers run up and down the counter as he stares into space
“‘toru?” you prompt, nudging him with your elbow, “i can hear you thinking”
“i don’t know where to keep him” he exhales, “i would ask shoko, or kento but then i’d risk getting them in trouble with the higher ups”
“what about the secret room we found in our third year?” you asked, “you could keep him there, unless they found out about it”
“i would keep him there.. but i just...don't want him to feel alone," he says softly. you didn’t think it was possible to fall even deeper in love with satoru, but he never failed to surprise you. “he's just a kid, so i— i want to look out for him.”
he knows it’s a big ask. you can hear the gears turning in his head as he figures out how to possibly convince you to let sukuna’s vessel stay in your home.
"can he stay?" he pleads, "can yuuji stay with us please? it’s only until the kyoto goodwill event" he's clasping his hands together, imploring you with his infinitely blue eyes. you raise an eyebrow. knowing satoru, yuuji was probably waiting around in the foyer
"he's already here isn't he?" you ask, shaking your head fondly as a guilty look flickers across his face. classic satoru. although you would've loved for him to give you a heads up, you didn't mind a bit. it would be nice to have some company when satoru went on his missions
 “i didn’t really have time to plan all the details before bringing him with me” he says, sheepishly rubbing a hand behind his neck, his fingers brushed against the soft strands of his undercut, "are you mad? don't be mad baby"
"no" you laugh, "i'm not mad 'toru, he can stay"
it’s the little things like this that make you realise just how much power you have over him. within seconds your husband is whirling you around, hands gripping your waist tightly and pressing chaste kisses on your face as he sets you down
"yuuji she said you can stay" a wide grin blooms across his face as he bounds into the foyer excitedly. the strongest jujutsu sorcerer, reduced to the faint resemblance of a child getting their first sleepover approved
you set the jar of salt down on the marbled counter. trailing after your husband. true to your suspicions, yuuji itadori had been standing awkwardly, twiddling his thumbs together in his hoodie pockets and silently taking in the intricacies of your home.
he couldn’t help but feel out of place.
there were pairs of everything — shoes neatly arranged on the coat rack. umbrellas tucked in a corner in the foyer. coats hung up next to each other on the wall.
the pale blue wallpaper hung row after row of framed photographs. their wooden mahogany panels reflected the warm lights. yuuji’s light brown eyes flickered on the pictures in all their glory and glossy sheen.
the ones that caught his eye captured a young fushiguro’s trademark scowl, the irritated quirk of his brow and the curled spikes of his hair that defied gravity.
he was standing beside a girl who looked just like him, except she was slightly taller with long bone-straight brown hair. yuuji’s eyes lingered on her smile as your beanstalk of a husband shook him excitedly
he wondered what fushiguro would say if he knew he’d seen pictures of him as a little kid. ( he’d probably summon his shikigami on him )
“really?” he beamed, eyes momentarily drawn away from the plethora of frames. you feel your heart melt into a sickly sweet puddle of happiness and warmth, as you watch satoru drape his arm over yuuji’s shoulder
“yes really” you laugh, “it’s nice to finally meet you yuuji, you’re a friend of megumi’s right?”
yuuji nods frantically, his mop of pink curls bouncing enthusiastically . his mannerisms were nervous and eager. he wanted to fit in. he wanted you to like him. you could tell — he reminded you oddly of your husband ( they were practically the same person in different fonts )
“speaking of megumi, he doesn’t know yuuji’s alive so please don’t let it slip when he calls you” satoru murmurs, taking slow steps towards you.
he knows he’s asking for too much now. you practically raised megumi and it would be nearly impossible for you to keep something like this from him. satoru can see the cogs spinning in your head, the subtle anger in your heart and for the first time in years he’s afraid.
“we’ll talk about this later” you say through gritted teeth. he pleads silently with his eyes and you swallow your protests, you exhale loudly before turning towards yuuji again “c’mon yuuji, i’ve just started on dinner”
yuuji kicks off his shoes and nudges them neatly beneath the shoe rack before padding after you. satoru isn’t far behind
“it smells really good mrs. gojo” yuuji says politely, as he takes a seat by the kitchen island, legs dangling as he drums on the smooth marbled counter.
“thank you yuuji” you beamed, “do you prefer rice or noodles?”
“ahh i’m not really picky” he says, “i like all kinds of food really, but i suppose rice? if it isn’t too much of a hassle, i really don’t want to be a bother-”
“slow down yuuji” you said softly, placing a hand on his shoulder, “i’m really glad to have you here, it gets kinda lonely when ‘toru’s away on business trips so make yourself at home okay?”
no wonder gojo-sensei was always happy, his wife was an angel. yuuji thought as he nodded fervently
“i can make the rice baby” satoru offers, his hands make their way around your waist, he doesn’t miss the way you stiffen under his touch. you’re mad at him, and he knows you have every right to be
“thank you” you said, putting as much feeling into the words as you could muster, “come with me yuuji, i’ll show you around”
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yuuji was positive he was intruding now, standing in the middle of megumi’s room while you stripped navy blue pinstripe sheets off his bed and replaced them with canary dressings.
“are you sure i can sleep here?” he asks, “ i don’t mind taking the couch..”
you seemed horrified at the idea of yuuji sleeping alone on the couch. he still hadn’t come to terms with the fact that you actually wanted him here. he was so used to being unwanted
growing up with his grandpa was something he wouldn’t trade for the world, yet he’d always craved the warmth of a mother. a mother’s love was the purest, and there was nothing more blameless than the softness in your (e/c) eyes when you looked at him
“i mind yuuji” you frowned” and i want you to stay in gumi’s room, his clothes should fit you since you’re around the same height”
“thank you again for letting me crash here” yuuji didn’t think he could say it enough. he didn’t deserve such kindness, not when the king of curses lived rent free in his head
“don’t mention it yuuji” you said, “i meant what i said downstairs, i could really use the company”
you ruffled his hair softly before resuming your ministrations of making the bed. you tucked crisp sheets beneath the mattress and fluffed up pillows with ease.
“you’re a really good mom, why don’t you and gojo-sensei have any kids of your own?” yuuji only realises the question is slightly insensitive after the words hang in the air and an unreadable look fleets across your face, “i’m so sorry that was really rude of me-”
“you’re good yuuji” you laugh, you sit down on the freshly laid duvet and pat the space beside you. yuuji hesitates but he sits down eventually
“it just never happened y’know? we adopted tsu and gumi a few years back, plus toru’s always seen his students as his kids, he cares about you guys a lot”
“even me?” it doesn’t seem plausible to him. all he’s seemed to do is cause problems for gojo-sensei ever since he ate that gross finger
“especially you yuuji” you smiled, ruffling his hair, “you remind me of him funny enough, even though i used to hate him back in our school days”
“really?” he gawked, he was practically falling over megumi’s bed with anticipation.
“really” you affirmed , “he was a real piece of work back then, i bet he’s the reason yaga has so many grey hairs”
“how’d you fall in love with him then?” yuuji enquires, brown eyes sparkling with immense curiosity “and how’d you meet?”
“are you guys gossiping about me?” satoru gasps, peeking around the doorway, “how mean of you yuuji, i thought we were friends”
“ahhh we weren’t gossiping per-say, mrs. gojo was about to tell me how you met”
“can i tell him?” satoru’s eyes sparkle, “the way i remember it i walked into the common room and cherry blossoms started falling, classical piano was playing softly in the background and-”
“that didn’t happen” you said, “he’s finally going senile” you tried and failed to push satoru out the doorway but he stood his ground.
he stood almost toe to toe with you, a pleased grin blooming on his face as he towered over you. yuuji’s eye’s flickered between you and your husband, cheeks dusted a rosy pink as he stifled giggles
“it did happen!” satoru insisted, “i’m sure shoko has a recording of it somewhere, now as i was saying.. she took one look at me and fell head over heels in love”
“you’re deluded” you muttered, “i didn’t love you until our second year, get your facts right”
“so you did fall head over heels in love with me” he grinned, “so early too? i knew you couldn’t resist my charms — owww!”
satoru feigns as you finally manage to shove him out the door after hitting his shoulder. by now, yuuji is a spluttering mess on the soft tatami mats lining megumi’s floor
“i’ll tell you what really happened one of these days” you said over your shoulder, “you can shower and settle in, take as long as you need, we’ll wait for you to come downstairs before we start eating”
your smile falls the moment the door clicks shut behind you. satoru feels his heart shattering. he’s so sure he’s going to die because his wife is mad at him. the universe might as well combust into nothing but ashes
“baby-” satoru starts, catching your wrist in his palm. he grips the bone loosely, careful not to hurt you “‘m sorry, you know that, but megumi can’t know”
you trudge down the stairs in silence, opting only to speak when you’re seated beside satoru in the living room. your cat natsu watches you wearily from her cat post, slanted eyes shooting satoru a well meaning glare.
“you can’t ask me to keep this from him” you said, shaking your head, eyes looking everywhere but your husband’s piercing blue gaze. “you’re taking things too far now”
“i know” his voice is a mere whisper, the words barely speak themself into existence, “i’m being selfish again, but you’ve gotta understand (y/n)”
“i can’t” you splutter, you feel tears treading your waterline “put yourself in his shoes, c’mon satoru we’ve seen him at his worst, why would we do something that could hurt him?”
“i’m not doing this to hurt megumi, i’m doing this to protect yuuji”
“just think about it please” you frowned, “if instead of executing suguru they kept him alive and let us think he was dead, you’d never forgive them”
he doesn’t miss the way your voice catches over the three syllables. he doesn’t miss the way your fingers tremble against his forearm. he hates this — arguing with you, he could think of infinite things he’d rather do than this.
“that’s different” his voice is wavering now, “suguru made his choice, yuuji didn’t ask for any of this” he winces as the words fall from his lips. to think he’d stooped to speaking ill of the dead. he doesn’t believe that, not really.
“you still wouldn’t forgive them” you prompted, “and i don’t want ‘gumi to go through any more, tsumiki being in a coma is hard enough as it is”
“i know baby, i know” satoru says softly, he cups your trembling face in his hands and places the sweetest of kisses on the tears that threaten to stream down your cheeks, “trust me on this okay? he’ll be fine i promise”
“okay” you nod, letting your husband, your one and only, wipe away the tears spilling over your lashes.
satoru could really kill the higher ups for putting him in this position. one where he nearly sacrificed his wife’s happiness for something as insignificant as jujutsu sorcery. with his lips still pressed to the corners of yours, he makes a silent vow with himself
it would be you before everything. it was you before everything
“you’re so beautiful” he whispers, his thumb grazing your bottom lip “you. are. everything. to. me” he punctuates each word with a kiss. his lips committing every inch of you to memory
they ghost over your cheek, your quivering lip, your shoulder, your wrist, and finally the silver wedding band encasing your ring finger. and they linger on the cool silver for what seems to be eternity before satoru speaks up again
“dance with me?” he prompts, although he’s not really asking. he’s already whisking you onto your feet and starting up the record player. the vinyl spins on its axis, as constant as his infinite love for you.
“what?” you sniffed slightly, “like we did in our first year?”
“like we did in our first year”
satoru’s hands were on your hip, drawing you closer, he felt your chest brush against his for a second as he leaned into you. you swayed gently side to side, keeping in time with the intricate melodies streaming from the gramophone
his six eyes tell him his student is watching, listening. curious doe eyes peeking from the stairwell. he doesn’t mind. satoru had never been one to hide his affection. you were his. and he was infinitely yours.
“can i tell you a secret?” satoru murmurs, as he twirls you back into his arms. he wishes he could stay like this forever. with you. he’d selfishly sacrifice the universe to keep having moments like this. he would kill for you. he’s positive he would. he’d do it without hesitation.
“i thought we didn’t have any of those” you quipped. satoru feels his heart melting. watching the sadness in your eyes fade into utter bliss was like watching the sun come out after a rainy day. maybe even better.
“it’s a good one i promise” he grins, you raise a brow sceptically but you’re listening “i was the one who fell head over heels in love with you. way back in our first year…and i didn’t even know what love was, i was so confused”
“when did you know?” you asked, “you always say you knew the moment you saw me, but you were an asshole then”
“it was the first time we snuck out together” he admits, “when we went to that night market. you were right, i was jealous of suguru but could you blame me? i wanted you all to myself”
“you’ve always been so greedy” you giggled. satoru doesn’t need the six eyes to see that you love him regardless. it’s evident in the tenderness of your tone and the way your (e/c) sparkle when you look at him
“cut me some slack baby” he groans “i’m trying to be romantic”
“you don’t need to try, i heard through the grapevine i can’t resist your charms” you hummed
satoru cracks a smile at the inside joke, a slow symphony of contentment.he kisses you again and it’s sweet and full of blind adoration. loving you is his religion. the only thing he’s wholly committed to. your hands looped around his neck, carefully avoiding the ever-so-sensitive scar that ran beneath his chin
your hands founds repose in the soft strands of his hair, carefully threading through the ivory curls. satoru could feel himself melting into you, he clung to you as if he was scared to let go and his calloused hands clutched at the warmth that radiated from your skin. he was so impossibly close you could feel his eyelashes fluttering against your cheeks.
yuuji peered at the scene with stars in his eyes. he knew he should look away. that this moment was sacred, strictly for the two of you. but he’d never seen gojo like this before — completely vulnerable, completely himself in the confines of your embrace.
here he wasn’t the strongest, the richest, the one-man clan, the one whose mere existence shifted the balance of the world. here, he wasn't satoru gojo, he wasn't gojo-sensei, he was just 'toru.
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© Y2KUROMI 2024. please do not plagiarise, repost, or translate any of my works on here or any other websites.
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miley1442111 · 3 months
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Hii omg i love the way you write!!! obsessed with the Rafe x Reader x JJ's fic. I'm eating that UPPPP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! And because of that i came to ask for something like that, i didnt saw anything like that done yet... The idea would be like that:
Rafe and reader are best best best friends like BEST FRIENDS but obviously deep down both are in love with each other and they personalities fit perfectly. But then Rafe starts dating Sofia (or just someone else) and reader get some distance from him to respect the privacy of the couple but Rafe always picks reader, Rafe and sofia meet reader on the country club, Rafe talks to reader the whole time, and give all is attention to reader.
Noticing how uncomfortable Sofia gets the reader get even more distant from Rafe and that starts to destroy him until one day, something big happens and Rafe picks reader instead of Sofia, like his instinct is to pick Reader. Then Sofia makes Rafe choose once and for all between her, his girlfriend or his bestfriend and one true love, the reader.
Maybe fluff/angst/comfort??? Pleaseeeeee sorry if this is too long or made you uncomfortable!!
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easy choice- r.cameron
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a/n: HI (louder than everyone else), i literally love you and this request anon!!!!!!! I dropped everything to write this, it literally got me out of a writing funk!!!!!! (YAYAYYAAYYA THANK U POOKIE) this is amazing and I hope you enjoy !!!!! :)))))))))))
pairing: rafe cameron x fem! reader, male oc x fem! reader, rafe cameron x female oc
summary: i suggest you look at the ask
warnings: kissing, toxic realtionship, rafe is a bit of a dick to haley and reader, rafe is confused, cursing, underage drinking, drinking, suggestive mentions (I think that's it?)
y/n is such a girls girl i love it.
not entirely proofread
3.4k words :)
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You had been in love with Rafe Cameron from the moment you knew what love was. You had been 5 years old when the brunette boy wandered into your life in the role of your rich neighbour, but also your new best friend. Their large land meant you and Rafe spent every day of  that summer running around with each other, playing, laughing, being kids. 
When you were 6 years old he’d kissed your cheek and your mom’s had laughed, calling it ‘young love’. And that’s what it was. From that moment, you knew you loved Rafe. You knew he loved you back. For the next 13 years every time someone brought up Rafe and asked what you were to him, it was always ‘best friend’, and when people would ask you how you felt about him, you told them. 
“I love him,” you’d shrug. It was simple. They could take it that you were in love with him, or that you loved him. It was up to them. 
Often, you’d joke that you two were too close to ever date, that you’d ‘seen too much’ of the other, and that it would be weird. But on the night of your 15th birthday when you’d both gotten drunk for the first time, and when he’d kissed you, you’d thought that maybe that idea was stupid. Maybe you hadn’t seen too much. 
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“This is Haley,” Rafe smiled. Haley, Rafe’s new girlfriend was clinging to him like all the others you’d met had, intimidated by you. You just smiled. “This is Y/n, she’s my best friend.”
You watched as her face faltered, then her hand shot out far too quickly, and almost hit your drink. You just smiled and shook her hand. “I promise I’m not one of those terrible ‘girl best friend in love with your boyfriend’ girls, I’ve seen Rafe shit himself, I can’t ever get that image out of my head.”
Haley smiled, then laughed as Rafe rolled his eyes at you. You shrugged, it was the best way to break the ice with his girlfriends, make fun of him. 
“No way,” she chuckled. “How old was he?”
“5-”
“15,” you answered. “Remember? When we were going skiing with your dad?” 
Rafe gritted his teeth and smiled at you, but you knew he wasn’t mad. Rafe was unable to get mad at you, it was truly impressive. All these years, and you’d never had a real fight. You just laughed at him and he broke out of his fake annoyance. 
“Well, I think this has been a great conversation, thanks Y/n-” Rafe was trying to steer Haley towards the bar behind you, but she stayed put. 
“Rafe, I want to meet her, properly,” she whispered and he rolled his eyes but obliged. 
“Good for you girl,” you chuckled, poking fun at the way he listened and did anything she asked. She laughed again. Maybe you two would be friends? That would be nice. All of Rafe’s old girlfriends had been intimidated by you, and it made you pretty upset. They had nothing to worry about, yes, you loved Rafe, but not like that. Yes, he was your first crush, and first kiss, but you were over that. You were a grown woman, and you knew your own feelings, fuck what everyone else thought. You weren’t in love with Rafe Cameron, you loved your best friend. And that’s all he was, your best friend. “Do you guys want to get lunch?”
“Yeah, that’d be great,” Haley smiled. 
“I have golf with the boys, you sure you don’t want to join?” He asked, turning to you.
“I’m, fucking awful at golf Rafe, it sucks, so for the last fucking time; no thank you,” you chuckled. 
“Suite yourself,” he shrugged, and grabbed your hand, giving it a tight squeeze before starting to walk off. 
“Rafe?” You called him. 
“Hm?” He turned back. 
You nodded your head in Haley’s direction. “Aren’t you going to say goodbye?” You mouthed. 
Rafe nodded, catching on and walked back over and pressed a kiss to her cheek. Haley smiled and waved him off. 
“He’s such a dick sometimes, sorry,” you chuckled with her. 
“He’s fine,” she smiled. “Seriously, I’d rather be here anyways, you’re right about golf, that shit sucks.”
You chuckled. “Amen to that.”
You talked with Haley for an hour before you had to get back to work. 
“Well, I better head back to work,” you smiled, getting up. “It was awesome to meet you.”
“Yeah you too,” she smiled, getting up at the same time. “To be honest I was pretty worried to meet you.”
“Why?”
“Rafe talks about you all the time, you’re like the only thing he talks about,” she chuckled and you felt awful. Rafe shouldn’t be talking about you to his girlfriend. You were his friend, and you’d never ever want someone, let alone his girlfriend to be worried about your role in his life. You two were strictly best friends.
“Oh, I’m sorry, that can’t be nice,” you sympathised. 
She shook her head. “No seriously, I didn't mean it in a bad way! It’s just-”
“No! Of course not,” you assured her. “I just mean that I wouldn’t totally like it if my boyfriend was constantly talking about someone else,” you explained. “I had one of those ‘girl best friend boyfriends’ and trust me, I swear to not be like that.”
She smiled. “Thank you.”
“Of course,” you smiled. “Now, I’d love your number so you can tell me if Rafe ever does some stupid shit, he usually listens to me and I can knock some sense into him. He has no right to piss you off, ever,” you chuckled. “Don’t take any of his shit, ever, ok? Promise me?”
“I promise,” she chuckled. “Thanks for being so… cool. I didn’t exactly expect it.” 
“No problem,” you smiled. “Thanks for being so cool too.”
You two left each other, and you two were friends. That felt good, and it also felt too good to mess up. So you decided it would be best to lay off Rafe for a while, still go out, but not alone (not that there was anything wrong with it, but just to give Haley peace of mind), and not reply immediately when he texted. 
----------------------
Rafe: Are You free today? 
Today, 11:00 am
You: Sorry, going out with Kelce and Top. Go out with Haley. 
Today 1:00 pm
Rafe: ???
Rafe: Didn’t think to invite me? 
Today, 1:01pm
You: Haley told me you two have plans today Rafe.  DON’T FUCK THIS UP! SHE’S REALLY COOL!!!
Today 1:02 pm
Rafe: Y/n come on. I’m only hanging out with her. She clings to me like a fucking koala
Today 1:04 pm
You: Set boundaries then. She’s your girlfriend. (plus me + you hang out more often than you and her????)
Today 1:04 pm
Rafe: That's different.
Today 1:05 pm
You: ????? 
You: No it’s not. Now have a fun date Rafe! Top, Kelc and I are drunk on a boat rn :)))))
Read 1:08pm
----------------------
Three months later…
Rafe: Dinner + horror movie tonight? Tanneyhill?
Read 2:14pm
“Who’re you texting?” Haley asked Rafe as she watched him get increasingly pissed off while looking at his phone. 
“No one,” he coughed, putting his phone down. Why were you ignoring him? It had been three months of dodged hangouts and missed calls and texts. He was getting the majority of his information about you out of Haley, and it was pissing him off. You were his best friend, not hers. Yet you seemed to have all the time in the world for her, and none for him. 
“Oh, I forgot to tell you,” Haley started. “Y/n and I were shopping the other day and-”
Rafe’s ears piqued up. Haley and you were hanging out, but you and him weren’t? Again, unfair, he was your best friend. “What?”
“Me and Y/N? We went shopping the other day and she finally found her Midsummer’s dress,” Haley explained. “We decided we’d match!” Haley turned and showed him a picture of you two in the matching pale pink dresses. 
Rafe was almost knocked on his ass by how good you looked. Your messy hair from the rain that had hit that day and your real smile, the one he knew, the one he usually brought out of you, and the long pink dress accentuating every perfect feature of your body. He found himself smiling. 
“What do you think?” Haley smiled. 
“You look beautiful,” he smiled, handing her phone back. “You’re stunning.”
Haley’s smile widened and Rafe felt accomplished. Yes, Haley looked good, but beside you? He didn’t even see her. 
“We should go to the mainland and get you a matching pink suit,” Haley beamed. She put her phone down, turning to Rafe. “I’m so glad we're together.”
Rafe flashed her his signature smirk and she pressed a kiss to his cheek. Kook princess and Kook king. This is what he’d wanted. Why didn’t it feel good then?
----------------------
Later that night, you called him. 
“Hi,” He sighed into the phone. 
“Did Haley tell you the happy news?” You chuckled. 
“That you two are matching for Midsummers? Yeah I know, the dress is pretty-”
“No Rafe, that I won’t be third wheeling you two at Midsummers,” you chuckled. 
Rafe stopped in his tracks. He stopped mid-biting into his apple and he almost dropped his phone. “What?”
“I got asked to Midsummers!” You cheered. 
“Who?” Rafe’s voice was just above a whisper. What was that feeling? The bile in his throat that he couldn’t swallow down. The red-tint in his vision. The way his entire body tensed. 
“Conrad Burren and I are going together,” you smiled. 
Rafe’s heart started beating again and he sighed, a smile landing on his lips. You were friends with the pogues, Conrad was your friend. “Oh,” he took a breath. “You’re going as friends, I thought you meant you got a date.”
You were quiet for a moment. That shit stung. “I did get a date. It’s a date Rafe,” you were more than offended. Rafe acting like you couldn’t get a date, fuck him. You and Conrad  were going together, and that’s what you wanted. Would you rather it be your usual tradition with Rafe where you’d run off to the empty lighthouse, get drunk and watch Jaws? Yes. But Haley had somehow convinced him to go to Midsummers, and you weren’t going to mess that up for her. “Conrad and I are going on a date.”
Rafe’s heart stopped again. Fuck. “Oh.”
You were getting angry with his silence. “Thanks Rafe, you piece of shit,” you spat and hung up the phone. 
----------------------
He had no reason to be this upset. Was he even upset? Was this him being upset? He had no idea how he was feeling, so an impromptu ‘boys only’ meeting was called. 
“Why are we here at midnight Rafe?” Topper yawned as he sat beside Wheezie (Yes, Wheezie and Sarah were part of your little group, and they were honorary boys at this meeting). “And where’s Y/n?”
Sarah laughed. “This is about Y/n,” she explained. “They had a fight.”
“Sarah!” He groaned, pacing the room. 
“Over who she’s going to Midsummers with,” Wheezie finished for her. “She’s going with Conrad.”
“Burren?” Kelce asked and Wheezie nodded. “He’s an alright guy, better than Jj Maybank anyways.”
Topper chuckled and agreed. “Yeah, what’s the issue with Conrad? He's a pogue and she’s basically a pogue anyways."
"Exactly! The only thing that really makes Y/n a kook is being friends with us and her parent’s money so… what’s the big problem that dragged me out of bed at fucking 11:43pm?” Kelce yawned.
“The problem is that she shouldn't be going with him!” Rafe snarled. 
“Who should she go with?” Sarah sighed. 
“No one!” Rafe exclaimed and everyone burst out laughing. “Me? No, no one!”
“Rafe, you have Haley and Y/n’s going to have to date one day! She’s already had a boyfriend or two,” Wheezie shrugged. 
Rafe turned his head to her. “What?”
“Yeah! They just weren’t super serious so she probably didn’t tell you,” Wheezie explained. 
“She probably didn’t tell you because she knew you’d flip your shit,” Sarah chuckled. “Like you’re doing right now.”
“Fuck off!” He hissed. “I’m not in love with her!”
The room fell silent, save for the heavy breathing of Rafe. 
“No one said you were,” Sarah smirked. “But you just did.”
And everything clicked into place for Rafe. He was in love with you. And of course he was. You, beautiful, intelligent, funny, kind, amazing, you. Who wouldn’t be in love with you? How hadn’t he realised it sooner? Why hadn’t he acted on it sooner?
“Fuck,” he breathed out. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. No! No, I-I can’t be in-in love with Y/n!”
Sarah laughed. “Rafe it’s alright!’
“No! No it’s not! Be-because she said we-we'd never date! ‘It wouldn’t ma-make sense’ she said. She said we wouldn’t make sense!” He panicked. He was in love with you, and there was no way you’d ever give him a chance. And then there way fucking Haley. Kook princess, irritating, clingy, Haley. “And what do I do about Haley?”
“I mean,” Kelce took a deep breath. “You might need to just break it off.”
“No he can’t do that,” Topper shook his head. “Haley and Y/n are like best friends-”
“Y/n is my best friend!” Sarah shouted. “Y/n is my best friend!” Rafe shouted. “Y/n is my best friend!” Wheezie shouted. All at the same time.
The Cameron siblings started into a very loud shouting match, trying to convince the others that you were in fact their best friend, not the others. Topper and Kelce let it run its course for about 10 minutes, but with no end in sight, Topper shouted. “Ok! You need to talk to Haley about this, then go to Y/n, but wait until after Midsummers!” 
Rafe stared at him for a minute, then shrugged. “Yeah. Good plan,” he wiped some of the sweat from his forehead and stood still for the first time in hours. “You two can go,” he mumbled to his friends, who just laughed.
“See you tomorrow man,” Kelce chuckled as they left. 
Rafe just had to wait until after Midsummers, which was four days away. He could make that, right?
----------------------
Rafe could not make it for 4 days. 4 days of knowing that you were mad at him, that you were going on a date with someone else to Midsummers, that he would have to see you there with him. 
4 days of agony, essentially. 
----------------------
“What’s wrong with you?” Haley finally asked, sick of his shitty mood that had just been growing throughout the week. 
“Nothing,” he mumbled, letting go of her hand as they walked. 
“No,” She stopped. “Come on, talk to me Rafey.”
Rafey. He fucking hated it when she called him that. It felt juvenile, so stupid, so whiny. 
“Stop calling me that shit,” he rolled his eyes. “It’s fucking annoying.”
She took a step away from him. “Rafe Cameron, we are going to Midsummers in 3 fucking hours, do I need to call Y/n to get her to set you straight?” 
A part of him didn’t like the fact that she had your number, another part of him wanted your attention on him, and that phone call would do just that. “I don’t fucking care Haley.”
Haley huffed, then walked off, lifting her phone to her ear. 
----------------------
“Hey Haley,” you sniffled. Conrad had cancelled on you at the last minute, saying he was ‘too busy to go to some kook-bullshit’. 
“Hey Y/n, can you tell Rafe to go fuck himself for me?” She seethed. 
“Haley, this really isn’t the time,” you sighed. “I’m sorry I just-”
“You told me you’d be here for me?” Haley scoffed. 
“Yeah, a-and I am I just-”
“So be here for me. I’m handing the phone to Rafe, talk to him.” 
“Hi,” it was Rafe’s voice, and you just wanted to cry harder. 
“Hi,” you choked out. “What’s going on?”
Rafe heard how your voice broke and his senses went into overdrive. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” you tried to steady your breathing. “Tell me what you said to Haley.”
“I didn’t say shit that wasn’t true. Now, where are you Y/n? What’s wrong?” Rafe was already grabbing his car keys from his pocket. 
“I’m sorry about our fight, I guess you were right. It wasn’t a date,” you sniffled. 
“What did that asshole do?” He growled. “Fucking piece of shit- listen I’ll be at yours in a few minutes, stay put.” 
“Rafe, go to Midsummers with Haley, please don’t worry about me,” you pleaded. You didn’t want his relationship to be ruined over you, and you didn’t want Haley to hate you forever because of a choice Rafe made. 
“Fuck Midsummers, and fuck Haley. You’re what’s important,” he assured you. “I’ll be there soon, ok?”
“Rafe please-” 
He hung up. 
“She knocked some sense into you?” Haley turned to him. 
“I’m not going to Midsummers,” Rafe muttered, brushing past her. He would burn every bridge he had to if it meant he got to you. 
“What?!” She shouted, stopping him by grabbing his arm. “Rafe!” “Fuck off, we’ll talk later,” he tried to brush her off, but she remembered what you’d said.
“Never take any of his shit, ok, promise me?”
“No. We’ll talk now. Me or her?"
“Her.” 
Rafe answered without a second thought. You were his destination, his journey, and his starting point. You inhabited his thoughts, lived in his head rent free, and you controlled him. You guided him, you knew him, and you loved him. As a friend at least. He just hoped it was more. 
Haley sighed, eyes clouding with tears. “Go.” 
“I was going to do that no matter what,” Rafe admitted, then brushed her off of him, running to his car. He got to your house in a record time of 5 minutes, and he ran to your bedroom. There you stood, mascara running, in your gorgeous pale pink dress with the prettiest flowers in your hair, and a sinking feeling his head gut told him that he was right. 
He was irrevocably, irreversibly, completely, head over heels in love with you. He reached out and took you into his arms, letting you cry onto his white shirt.
“He’s a piece of shit,” he whispered, holding you as you two sat down on your bed. “He didn’t deserve you,” he pressed his face into your hair. He draped your legs over his, holding you against him in a bridal hold as you cried into his neck, one arm supporting your back and one holding you closer to him. “You deserve so much better,” he purred. “You’re so beautiful, so, so beautiful,” he whispered. “So gorgeous.”
“Rafe, you should be with Haley,” you wiped your eyes. 
“We broke up,” he admitted. This was the moment, his moment. The moment where everything would change. It just depended on whether it was good or bad. “We broke up because I’m in love with you.”
You took your head out from his neck and stared at him, then you started laughing. “You’re in love with me?” You asked through laughter. 
“Yeah,” he chuckled. 
And then it all clicked for you. You were in love with Rafe Cameron. Soft, uncontrollable, hilarious, handsome, Rafe Cameron. 
“Shit,” you sighed out, a shocked look on your face. “I think I’m in love with you too.”
Rafe’s smile brightened. “Yeah?” He asked. 
“Yeah,” you nodded, a smile on your lips. 
Rafe’s attention landed on your lips, and he couldn’t hold himself back anymore. He grabbed your face, pulling it up to his own, and kissing you. It was like he was 15 all over again, but so much better. 
You pulled back after a moment. “You’re totally broken up with Haley, right?”
He nodded, his eyes staying on your lips, already addicted to the way you tasted. “Yeah,” he mumbled, only half listening. 
“Good,” you smirked. “Because we have to get to Midsummers.”
Rafe’s interest was piqued. “Why?”
“Traditions are tradition Cameron,” you smirked, fixing up your makeup. “We have to get drunk and watch Jaws in the lighthouse. Or did you forget?” 
Rafe could feel himself getting hard but he just smirked. “I didn’t forget.”
“Good,” you smirked, pressing your lips to his once again. “So let’s go.”
He nodded, following you like an overactive puppy. 
God, he was whipped.  And he didn’t even care. He had you.
----------------------
obx masterlist :)
navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games, challengers :)
424 notes · View notes
danoslvrr · 11 days
Text
“witches” - logan howlett x f!reader
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summary ; you’re a witch, one of the most powerful x-men. when on a mission with your best friend, logan, you defy him, stripping away from him.
warnings ; angst— lots of angst. yearning. mutant!reader. sort of mean!logan. death. blood. love confession. reader has dark magic. fighting. mentions of logan’s past. logan will never be happy.
a/n: this is so not canon at all I’VE ONLY SEEN ONE X-MEN MOVIE I APOLOGIZE IN ADVANCE.
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ੈ✩‧₊˚ laughter echoes throughout the halls of the school as the bell finishes ringing. you finish up organizing your desk for the weekend, a blank expression on your face while you hum quietly. quick, running footsteps alert you of a presence nearing your classroom, and immediately, you lift your head up, expecting a student. what you find instead is a distressed scott, breathless and red in the face. “the professor needs you. now.” he states.
immediately, panic floods your entire body. what could have happened? was a student hurt? or worse— was one of the x-men hurt? you think of all the possibilities, the worst possibilities, as you follow scott down the hall, speed walking and weaving through the students. every time a student attempts to stop you to ask a question about homework or something else, you wave them off, shouting “i’ll be back soon!”
you don’t know if that’s true, though. from the sounds of it, you might be needed for longer than you lead the students to believe. when scott bursts into professor x’s study with you in tow, your face paler than usual with panic, the professor turns to you with a smile. he gestures towards one of the seats, though that doesn’t calm your nerves in the slightest. you suddenly notice that your best friend, logan howlett, is sitting in the room. that calms your growing nerves. he seemed calm, so everything must be fine.
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ੈ✩‧₊˚ “you want her to what?” logan asked angrily. charles remained calm and steady as logan seethed, pacing back and forth in front of him. “you two will be going on a mission. together, to save storm. a dangerous one, yes, but i have full confidence in the two of you. you’re my most powerful soldiers, and i have no doubt you will excel.” the professor speaks and your face flashes with worry, excitement, and embarrassment, all mixed into one. logan has always been protective of you but this, this was different.
he looked like he was ready to draw his claws on the professor, finally standing in the center of the room between you and charles, taking a deep breath. “she’s not going.” he states firmly. “i’m afraid she must, logan.” charles says calmly, a smile still on his face. “well she’s not.” logan says through gritted teeth. you place a hand on his arm while you stand up, walking to stand beside him. “i’ll be fine.” you soothe him. “promise.” a smile spreads on your face and he appears to relax a little bit.
logan had been your best friend for a year now, and you two had grown inseparable during the short period of time you had spent together. you had fallen for him, and you fell hard. he made your heart flutter every time he walked into a room, your heartbeat quickening and breath hitching. you were sure he knew by now, from his enhanced senses, but the man seemed to be clueless. you had given up on trying to get him to see you like that a long time ago.
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ੈ✩‧₊˚ that’s how you ended up here. on scott’s motorcycle, stolen by logan, with your arms wrapped around his midsection. you clung to him, terrified every time you two drove over a bump. logan had steady control over the motorcycle, and you knew he would never let anything hurt you, but it terrified you nonetheless. you squealed as he sped up, a look of pure determination on his face, brown hair messy from the wind, but still complete with those little tufts you loved so much. your legs rested on either side of his hips. his hazel eyes bore into the road, focused on keeping you safe. “don’t worry, sweetheart. i got ya.” he had said somewhere along the way, making your face burn crimson.
finally, you arrived at a facility, almost an eight hour drive away from the school. you easily could’ve flown there, but didn’t bother to, given as you had the power to manipulate time. you had sped up the process of travel, despite logan’s protests that you should save your energy for the real threat. he parked the motorcycle a distance away from the facility, quickly walking you through the (blatantly obvious) open door. his hand rested on your back the whole time, and your heart fluttered.
“c’mon,” he whispered into the dark. he gestured you over to the other side of the room where he was now standing. you hadn’t realized he had gotten over there, lost in your thoughts. “hey, sweetheart, you still with me?” he asked, causing you to snap out of your trance. “yeah, ‘m sorry, lo.” you whispered, quickly yet silently walking over to where he was standing. he pulled you against his chest, arm wrapped around your stomach. “gotta be quiet f’me, okay?” you nodded. “good girl.” your face burned up again.
he led you further into the facility, and as soon as you stepped into a room a bit brighter than the others, you knew something was wrong. he must’ve known too because he threw himself around you, dropping to the ground as he shielded you with his body, keeping you tucked against his chest. alarms went off around you, and logan quickly pulled you to your feet. he grabbed your hand, tugging you along with him as you left the facility.
“where are we going?” you shouted. “back to the school. ‘s not safe here.” you tugged away from his hand, running back towards the facility, determined to save ororo. “y/n! come back!” he roared, running after you, but you were quicker. well, not really, but your powers helped you to keep him behind as you fought into the facility. you fought off what appeared to be soldiers, quickly running through them as you used your shadow manipulation to make each of them begin to be attacked by their own shadows.
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ੈ✩‧₊˚ your energy was wearing thin. you knew it, but you kept pushing, using your powers to fight off the men surrounding you. occasionally, when you would get particularly angry, you began to see the ghosts of all the people that had died here, cheering you on, which only spurred you on to not let ororo suffer the same fate. you finally found her in the bottom level of the facility, unconscious. logan quickly entered behind you, you having long forgotten to hold him back, too focused with the task of fending off the men attacking you.
you heard a scream, then thunder, felt a sharp wave of pain, then saw a blinding flash of light. you collapsed to the ground, head pounding. a warm, metallic liquid pooled in your mouth, though you couldn’t place what it was for a few moments. blood. your own blood. “l-logan,” you stuttered, “help.” “no, no, no, no,” he panicked as he dropped down to his knees beside you, pulling you into his arms. you had been stabbed in the chest by one of the men. how he had gotten to you, you didn’t know. your eyes, though hazy, opened to look at logan. you smiled weakly.
“my baby, please, god, not my baby.” he whispered, cradling your head with one hand, pulling you into his chest. a warmth spread through you, that familiar feeling you always got around logan. you smiled a bit wider now. tears pooled in his eyes, and he stared down at you. “m gonna get you out of here, alive, okay sweetheart? i promise.” he whispered, his voice cracking as he cried.
“lo… ‘s okay. ‘m okay. really. just… go. get her out of here. please.” you pleaded. for a moment, when he had called you his baby, you felt as if maybe, just maybe, he loved you too. you shoved the thought out of your mind, pushing it aside as you accepted the fact that you were dying. he leaned down, kissing your forehead. “can’t leave you here, sweetheart. i- i can’t.” he stammered, tears spilling rapidly down his cheeks. you reached up, cradling his face in your hand. he leaned into your touch. “i’ll be okay. i’ll find you, okay? i promise i’ll find you.”
“i love you.” you whispered, and then, you took your final breath, inhaling and never exhaling. logan sobbed. he buried his face into your hair, cradling you tightly against his chest, just crying and begging for somebody, anybody to help. to save you, to bring you back. “i love you,” he whispered. god, he felt like such a coward. he had let you die thinking he didn’t love you. “i love you so much, my sweet girl.”
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ੈ✩‧₊˚ carrying your body back to the school was one of the hardest things logan ever had to do. watching them bury your body was even harder. his heart ached, thinking of all the time he could’ve spent loving you out loud had he not been so afraid to speak his feelings, to just confess his love to you. he became angry, resentful. violent. he felt as if you were the one good thing in his life after he had lost his memory, and you had been ripped away from him so cruelly.
he didn’t speak to anyone for the days that followed. he spent all day in his room, sulking. he didn’t have it in him to cry. the days turned into weeks, the weeks turned into months. that feeling of numbness never left him. he had nightmares, every night, no longer of his past, but rather of your dead body in his arms. of your whispered “i love you.” you haunted his every thought.
thoughts of you coming into his room when you couldn’t sleep and just curling up into his arms and sleeping so peacefully. thoughts of you squeezing his hand beneath your desk when you two would teach a class together. thoughts of the kids asking him about you, about where you had gone. thoughts of what would’ve happened had he told you he loved you while you were still alive. he couldn’t breathe during these nightmares, he felt like he was suffocating. he had lost everyone, everyone he cared about from his past, and now his present and future.
logan howlett had been doomed to suffer.
233 notes · View notes
gyuwoncheol · 10 months
Text
Takes Two to Tango
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Pair: Scoups x f!reader
Genre: Fluff, Angst
Summary: Cheollie to the rescue on a bad day
Warnings: angst, mentions of Cheol’s torn ACL injury. There is, in fact, no tango happening at all.
WC: 1.7k
Author's Note: Wrote this a while back but have always waited for the right time to post it. I’ve had an exhausting week, probably the most tired I’ve been in a long while. I just want to be conforted by Cheol. Dedicating this also to all my carat friends going though a rough patch right now. You must remember our boys and our leader love us so much 🩵🩷
Author's Note 2.0: Written because I truly miss Cheol and I know he misses us just as much. I always feel slightly disoriented when I don’t see him in the promotions. I also just really miss having an ot13 comeback 😞
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“Babe?” It’s the first thing you hear when you enter the door and you’re already cursing at how Seungcheol just knows it’s you.
“Hmm,” You drop your keys and took off your shoes, taking a quick glance at the mirror by your main door, wiping the dried tears that marked your cheeks. Kkuma eventually got to you and pawed at your legs gently. You pick her up and cuddle into her a good few minutes, sighing heavily as you shut your eyes closed.
There wasn’t really any other way to put it. You had an absolute shit of a day. You got a flat tire on the way to the office, consequently making you late to a very important meeting. You were given a new workload that wasn’t even really part of your scope anymore but there was really no other person who could take it on, while another important project you’d been taking care of had to be delayed because of a manufacturing problem. Everyone in the office seemed to need to meet you that you ended up taking lunch 2 hours late, and just when you were about to take your 3rd cup of coffee for the day, the lid had popped open and spilled the brown liquid all over your very white top. By the time you left the office, you were cranky and hungry, like you wanted to scream and fight with anyone. It was only when you arrived at home and caught sight of the warm light that peeked through the windows that you were reminded about Cheol being home.
Your boyfriend who was nursing a torn ACL and evidently spent much of his day at home. Your boyfriend who was sweet and loving enough to check in on you throughout the day, but he barely got substantial replies. Your boyfriend who didn’t mind cause he knew you were busy. Your boyfriend who was now looking at you with the softest eyes as you approached him with a kiss on the cheek.
“Hi baby,” he greeted, arms open wide as he remained partially immobile on the couch.
You hesitated about going in front of the couch and receiving his embrace, your heart feeling like it was squeezed at the moment. To your better judgment, you hugged him with one arm from behind and a quick kiss on his lips instead.
“Can i just go clean up first? I.. i got coffee spilled all over me,” you excused yourself, averting his gaze.
Seungcheol nodded and watched you scurry away to your shared bedroom, a heavy sigh leaving his lips. He normally gets sulky when you avoid his hugs, but this time he had already sensed something was off with you. It was the way you wrongly messaged him “take care at rehab” at 1pm when he actually had his appointment at 10am. You’ve never forgotten any of his appointments. It was also in the way he had noticed you enter the house only 20 minutes after your car park at the garage. He obviously noticed how tired you looked and the little smudge of your mascara from tears. It broke his heart that you chose to keep this with yourself, you normally always ran to him for refuge when you needed it.
You stood idly in the shower for what felt like forever. If it were up to you, you would’ve never gotten out but alas, you could only hide forever and the water bill will spike up so you got out and got changed, drying your hair and pulling on one of your boyfriend’s large shirts, your favorite one.
“Oh my god!” You jumped at the sight of Seungcheol on the bed when you got to your bedroom, “you scared me. How’d you get all the way here?!”
“Babe, I can already walk you know? Just slowly, but I still get to places.”
“Right, yeah, sorry. I was just surprised,” you shook your head, “uhmm.. i’m gonna go get water…”
“There’s water here,” Seungcheol pointed out, gesturing towards the small table which indeed had drinking water
“Oh. Okay. Then i’ll just go and fix up the liv—“
“Y/n,” Seungcheol called out softly but still firm, freezing you on the spot by the door. You closed your eyes at the nickname, and you just knew he knew you were avoiding him. “Please look at me?”
You turned around slowly, eyes only peeking open after taking a deep breath. You glanced at him and immediately, tears already began pricking at your eyes, so you looked down at the floor instead, standing there like a child that just got scolded. Cheol waited to see if you’d get closer or if you’d at least bring your gaze back to him but when you didn’t he worried even more. Slowly, he swung his leg off the bed to make his way to you.
“What are you doing?” You panicked with his movements.
“Trying to get you to me.”
That seemed to do the trick, your feet padding towards him quickly and helping him raise his injured leg on the bed again, “just stay put. I’ll do it.”
Seungcheol grabbed your hand, squeezing it tightly for good measure, “Jagi, what’s wrong? Could you please tell me?”
You looked at him once more and Cheol had the warmest gaze fixed on you. You sat by his side, feeling bad you were worrying him. “I just had a bad day at work, that’s all.”
“Wanna tell me more?” He prodded, thumb rubbing soothing circles at the back of your hand.
“No, it’s okay. I’m okay.”
“You clearly aren’t,” Seungcheol retorted, “babe, you know I won’t pry if I didn’t think something else was wrong but you’re worrying me, you always run to me when you have bad days and problems, why are you shutting me out now?”
Your boyfriend sounded pained and you cursed yourself for making him feel that way. “Cheollie, i’m not shutting you out…” you whispered, “I just don’t think it matters to you is all.”
Cheol watched you shrug at your words, as if trying to convince yourself of what you just said. “It matters when it’s making my girl sad, why would you think it wouldn’t?”
“Becauseeee,” you whined, “you clearly have worse problems than I do. You’re uncomfortable, you have a hard time moving, rehab is painful, i know you’d really rather be with the boys doing work but instead you’re stuck at home. You have it much worse than I do. It’s just a bad day at work. I’ll be fine.” You said everything so fast you hadn’t even noticed a tear had rolled down your cheek but your boyfriend was quick to wipe it away before you pulling into his chest.
It crushed Cheol to see you like this. You weren’t one to hold off on your emotions to him. “Baby, just because im having a bad day doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to. My ‘bigger’ problems,” your boyfriend raised his fingers to gesture air quotes, “shouldn’t invalidate yours.”
“I know, but..”
“No but’s… your feelings are valid. Period. And I’m always here for you. We’re a team, remember?”
You looked at Seungcheol properly for the first time tonight, tears in your eyes as you studied his features intently, and then the dam broke loose. You hide your face on the crook of his neck and sobbed, little hiccups and squeaks coming out of you. Cheol could feel the rapid rise and fall of your chest as he embraced you in his arms, patting your hair with one hand whispering encouragements to just “let it all out”.
“I’m j-just… just so tired, Cheol,” you whispered softly in between cries, “I s-swear…. it’s nothing else… jus’ t-tired.” And it was true, there wasn’t anything else bothering you, you just simply felt tired from everything going on in your life, “I just didn’t w-want… t-to tell you and burden you. S-so I… i k-kept it in… I’m sorry.”
“Hey, shhhh, no need to be sorry. I believe you and i’m always here for you. Never a burden, jagi. Remember that.” Seungcheol squeezed you tighter, wanting to just take away all of the hurt and exhaustion you were feeling.
He continued to speak soothing words as he let you release more pent up feelings, his face scrunching up when you’d let out a strangled gasp. It hurt for Cheol to even think about how long you’ve felt this way, he has been injured for quite a while now.
You wipe away your tears after what felt like forever, the tip of your nose was positively red and your eyes were now swollen. Your boyfriend offered you a weak smile before planting a kiss on your forehead.
“I love you,” you say after clearing your throat, “thank you for listening.”
“Of course, jagi. I love you too. I’m sorry if all this,” Seungcheol gestures to his knee, “has disturbed our routine—“
“What? Cheollie, no,” you interrupted, “don’t be sorry. I’m not blaming your or your injury at all.”
“I know. I’m just saying I know things have been a little more difficult than usual for us, but I know we’ll get through it as long as we do it together, yeah? You don’t always have to give it your all, you know. I’m always going to be here to fill in the gap for you, the same way you do with me. You’ve been so good at taking care of me lately, I just hope you’d remember that I want to take care of you too, even with a bad knee.”
You giggled at his last words, knowing full well that even with his disability, Seungcheol would cross rivers and move mountains for you. That’s simply how he is as a person. It showed with how he flew to Japan to support his brothers and see their fans for their show. You witnessed it in the way he’d wake up early in the morning even when he didn’t have a schedule just so he could take breakfast with you and send you off for work. Saw it with how there was always dinner ready on the table when you got home. Sometimes they were cooked by him, sometimes just delivered, but it didn’t matter to you. You knew it was his way to make good on his promise of using all this time at home to make up for lost time with you.
Some people think it annoyingly stubborn— some people being his doctors— but to you, it meant that he was passionate, determined and most importantly, he loved fiercely.
He loves you fiercely.
You gently nodded at his words whilst cupping his face in your small hands. Seungcheol did the same, his thumb wiping your dried tears after placing a chaste kiss to your lips.
“Together?” You asked despite knowing the answer.
“Together.”
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shadowbriar · 2 years
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George Weasley - Loved and Lost You
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Pairing : (F/M) || George Weasley x Gryffindor!Reader Word Count : 4.8k  Warning : Mention of food. One foul language. Synopsis : Fake dating gone wrong when she realises that her silly idea to help the Hufflepuff boy costs her her bestfriend. Notes : I had no idea how to end this, definitely not my best ending to date but I hope you can still enjoy it. If you like this story and would like to support me, please visit my kofi page and perhaps get me a coffee?☕
“What would I do without you, truly?”
She shrugs, passing the redhead his quidditch robe, “I don’t know, actually. Probably died a long time ago.”
The boy grins, receiving the said item thankfully.
The sun was beaming, steady wind blowing that lovely morning as the Gryffindors began to crowd the quidditch field. It was another typical practice but for as long as she could remember, she has always been a constant audience of the activity. She wasn’t sure if it was purely caused by her admiration of the said sport or was there any other hidden meaning she tries so hard to bury inside her chest, but if Voldemort himself is not outside of her doorstep and threatening her with the cruciatus curse, best believe she would come and cheer for her favourite Wealeys.
Yes, Weasleys.
Though it was obvious for everyone else that she has always been more fond of one of the twins, she would always argue that they both are her best friends and that she loves them equally. Sure she has been more open with one of them, spent more time on his bed and shared more of her heartfelt stories with him, but that doesn’t mean that she has any special feelings for him. They simply connect better, like the way honey fits best with tea instead of sugar.
“Say, do you have any plans after this?” He asked, putting on his robe in the process “I was wondering if you’d like to do that Charms essay together?”
“By together you mean by copying mine?”
He grins sheepishly, “You know me best.”
“Yes, I’ve heard that before.” She says as she rolls her eyes “Meet you here after?”
“Sound.”
He ruffled her hair, the very dear habit he does whenever they’re going to part ways, before he jogs lightly to the field.
She finds herself walking to the bleacher, finding a spot next to Hermione who was trying to bite down her smile, “What?”
“Nothing.”
“Oh, don’t ‘nothing’ me, Hermione. I know something’s running wild in your precious witty brain.”
“It’s just that,” The younger Gryffindor vents, turning to her “You and George look so cute together. Whatever is stopping you two from dating? Everyone could see the heart eyes you’ve been exchanging with each other.”
She rolls her eyes, “There’s no heart eyes between us. Don’t make up words, Hermione, you know how rumours go wild in this school.”
“Oh, but there totally is!” She argues, feeling rather curbed over her emotions “George has never looked at anyone the way he looks at you and vice versa. You both are neck deep in love with each other yet refuse to acknowledge it. Merlin, you both are denying it for no reason, really!”
She turns her head to watch the game, not entertaining the younger girl any longer.
Hermione wasn’t the first to question their friendship. In fact she’s one of the least vocal about it, compared to Ginny and Harry would blurt out the questions right in front of the younger twin, making the atmosphere to be awkward for the next 2 minutes to come. It would be a lie if she never pondered about the underlying truth beneath the curious accusations their friends made, but being best friends with the Twins was all she’s known for since she first stepped in Hogwarts. She’s been the honorary third twin, so Fred called, and their close relationship has always been something of her identity. There really isn’t anything more than that.
They were all just making things up, she was sure. There’s no heart eyes, no soft gazes and George definitely doesn’t like her that way. If he does, she would’ve known about it because who else could read him like an open book? Right?
—-
Her attempt on keeping her giggles in was evidently failing as George continued to nudge her under the table. Troubles in Potion is always the worst and she wouldn’t want to get any of them detention from Snivellus, but what exactly can you expect from sitting next to one of the Twins? It would be a cold day in hell if they don’t try to tickle or at the very least make silly comments about the Professor throughout the lesson.
And as if on cue, George was pulled up from his seat abruptly, arm being yanked away by the foul Professor, “Switch your seat with Diggory. Now.”
The joy on both their faces turn into horror in the blink of an eye. George nods silently, packing his belongings. She shot an apologetic smile at him, watching him as he shuffled away from their table. Diggory, who looks surprised that his name was being called, is now walking to their table, his unfinished essays disorganised in his hands.
“Hi.”
She smiles, nodding, “Hello, Diggory.”
She glances at George, making sure that the boy wasn’t much affected by Snape’s wrest, though she knew that it would require much more than the Professor’s assault to frighten the boy. Hell, she wasn’t even sure there would ever be anything George Weasley is afraid of. That boy has always been confident and undaunted no matter how severe the circumstances he was in. Yet she still couldn’t stop herself from checking in on him. It has become an unconscious habit she picked up over the years.
George wiggles his eyebrows at her, showing his unphased state as he takes a seat. She rolled her eyes. Of course he’s still being his jesterself.
She turns her head back to her paper, only to notice Diggory’s eyes glued to a few tables in front of them. She follows his direction, raising her brows as she realises that he was watching Patricia Stimpson intently. She looks back at Diggory who still hasn’t blinked from the last she saw him.
“Is there something on Stimpson’s face that I didn’t notice?” She asks aloud, making the boy snap out of his thought “Is it only noticeable from your side of the table?”
“No, there’s nothing on her face.” He answers, cheeks turning rosy “I was just spacing out.”
She squints her eyes, noting the nervous shift of his gesture, “Are my eyes deceiving me or are you blushing right now, Diggory.”
“Shut up.”
“Oh, Merlin!” She exclaims quietly, grinning at the secret she’s just learned “You fancy Stimpson, don’t you!”
“I said, shut up.”
She nudges the boy, teasing the poor Hufflepuff who’s now trying to bury his head under his arm, hiding his face that is as red as a tomato. In no time the two strangers become close. Funny how one fortuitous action could bring the two close in no time. It was as if they’ve been friends for years.
And the sight wasn’t left unnoticed by a pair of jealous eyes.
George chews on his lower lip with anxiety. He’s never seen her grow close with someone as fast as this, not even with Lee who has been their fourth wheel for years. What is it about Diggory that seems to be such a magnet for girls? Was it his pretty face? His humour perhaps? Surely he couldn’t have better jokes than the prankster of the castle.
The redhead’s bubble of thought burst as a crumpled paper hit his head. He turned to the direction where it came, seeing his twin who’s gesturing him to open it. With a huff, he opens the parchment paper and his frown grows even more sour.
‘Losers Weepers.’
—-
She throws her head to the back as she laughs her heart out, giving George light punches to the arms. The Gryffindor table was full of familiar faces. It has been a while since the whole squad was present. With the different year they’re in, different classes they’re taking, and evidently different teenage troubles they’re facing, spending breakfast together seems like an impossible task to do. Now that everyone’s present, she couldn’t find a reason to leave the table early.
But one.
“Hey, you.” A voice calls, greeting her with a smile as she turns to face him “Ready to go?”
“Of course!”
George’s brows were furrowed, disapproving her who’s now standing from her seat, “Where are you going?”
“Oh, Cedric and I are planning to do our Potion essays early.” She explains hastily “Also, George, you wouldn’t mind switching partners with him, would you? I kinda need his help with the upcoming assignments.”
The boy blinks, completely taken aback at the wave of information and requests she’s throwing at him.
“Brilliant!” She exclaims, taking his silence as approval “Let’s go, Ced.”
The whole table was left appalled, watching as she walked away with the Hufflepuff boy. Ginny and Hermione were audibly gasping when she linked her arms with him and he ruffles her hair, skipping out of the Great Hall happily. The sight was so peculiar they would’ve preferred seeing Dumbledore wearing a bikini than to witness the situation for the second time. The things she was doing, linking arms, laughing, and getting all jumpy was a sight they would see with George, not Cedric.
Since when were the two close?
“What’s just happened?” Harry broke the silence, blinking his eyes “What’s she doing with Cedric Diggory?”
“Didn’t you hear? They’re going to do their Potions essay.” Fred comments mockingly, knowing that his twin isn’t capable of making up for an answer “I didn’t even know we have Potions essay.”
The younger twin stabs on his innocent sausage as if trying to butcher it to its death. His eyes were vacant, feeling a silly pool of knots forming inside his stomach. To know that she prefers to do Potions essay than to spend time with her literal family at Hogwarts shows exactly where Cedric is positioned in her priority list.
Disappointed would be the most understated word he’s feeling at the moment. She has never been that close to anyone but him. He had always been the one she would drop the world for yet now he could sense that the seat was filled with others. He knew that something was going on. There’s no chance in the seven hells that they simply want to do their Potions essay early. Since when does she care about Snivellus’ classes anyway? Yet the realisation only further stomps him, making him drown deeper into the pits of anguish.
“I’m sure they’re just friends, like we all are.” Hermione comments, noticing the dejected look on George’s face “There’s nothing really to be worried about, George.”
He chuckles bitterly, not looking up to see the girl, “Why would I be worried?”
The table went quiet. They all could see the sorrow bleeding out of his skin. It was common knowledge to the pack that he’s madly in love with her. In contrast to her blatant denial whenever their relationship was being questioned, George chose the more vague path of simply smiling and clinging his arms around her shoulders, showing a sign of approval but not really. As if he was waiting for her to stop denying it so he could finally shed the mask he’s been wearing all these years.
Yet it seems like he wouldn’t ever get the chance to take it off now.
“George-”
“I’ll see you guys at the field.”
The boy shoots a weak smile to the group, standing up as he picks up his satchel and exits the Great Hall. The group stares at each other, feeling the mutual sorry for the heartbroken boy. Everyone could see the quidditch robe left unconsciously on the table and yet, for the very first time, she wouldn’t be the one giving it to him later.
—-
“There’s Stimpson.” She whispered to Cedric before faking a laugh, glancing at the girl who’s just entered the Great Hall “Quick, put your hand around my waist.”
“Is that really necessary?” He comments but still does the gesture “Could she even see my hand under these giant tables?”
“Stop, Ced, you’re hurting my stomach!”
The boy chuckles, watching her fake laughter with glee, “You’re entirely something else, you know?”
She grins as she takes a bite of her toast.
The plan was in motion. The two of them have done more public display of their intimacy, indicating that a romantic affair is happening between the two without telling anyone the truth behind such actions. Cedric found the idea to be ridiculous initially, but now seeing Stimpson to be taking silent glances and frowning lightly at the sight of them together, he came to the realisation that not only is she a great actress, she’s one hell of a genius too.
Yet he couldn’t help but to notice that the green emotions were radiated not only from Stimpson but from one of the Weasley twins too. If anything, the younger twin seems to be in a different level of jealousy that everytime he looks in his direction, he would find the Gryffindor’s eyes to be throwing him daggers.
“You know,” Cedric starts, clearing his throat “As much as I’m grateful for you for this stunt, are you sure it is fine for you to be fake dating me?”
“Yeah, of course. Why do you ask?”
“Because something tells me that one of the Weasley twins is despising it.”
She frowns, turning to see the Gryffindor table where the twins usually sit. Her eyes met George’s for a brief second before he looked away, joining the conversation Lee and Fred was having. She notices from afar the light hue of grey underneath his eyes and how his smile doesn’t seem to reach his eyes, no wrinkles around it as he laughs.
Guilt starts to creep inside her. When was the last time she truly looked at him? He looks awful, despite still looking as charming as ever. She could tell that something was bothering him and she feels terrible for not knowing what caused it. She used to know everything about him like the back of her hand. How long has she been gone, really?
“Are you sure nothing’s going on between you two?” Cedric asks, breaking her train of thought “I really don’t want to be the cause of your ruined relationship.”
“What, no. Nothing’s going on between us. We’re just friends.”
“Doesn’t seem like it.” He argues with a shrug “I mean I’ve seen you two around. Even a blind man could tell that something’s going on between you two. Do you not reciprocate his feelings, is that it?”
“What feelings?”
Cedric stares at her with disbelief, a teasing smile tugged on his lips, “You’re joking.”
“Do I look like I'm joking?”
“He fancies you!” He exclaims with a nudge “Come on, surely you’re not that daft to see it.”
“George doesn’t fancy me.” She comments, looking away from the Hufflepuff boy to hide her blush “Why does everyone keep telling me that.”
“Maybe because that’s the truth.”
She glares at him before looking back down to her breakfast.
Her thoughts were running wild. Being told that George was in love with her by their group of friends has always been something of an ordinary. She never thought much of it as she figured it was just one of those friendly teasing you make within your group of friends. But now hearing it from Cedric who was the literal definition of an outsider makes her ponder if such words ever actually hold some meaning. Is it really that obvious for others that he hoards feelings for her?
“Look, all I’m saying is this fake dating goes both ways.” Cedric continues “On my end I get to make Stimpson jealous and it seems like it’s working so far. On yours, I think that it’s making one of the twins jealous. What I’m questioning is, are you up for such a consequence? Are you ready if he somehow changes his demeanour around you because of our fake relationship?”
She frowns, “George wouldn’t change just because we’re dating, fake or not.”
“Are you sure? Because it looks like he’s ready to hex me to death.”
“Positive.” She rolls her eyes at him “In fact, I’ll come over to their table now and show you that his actions would remain the same.”
“Bet you 10 galleons he wouldn’t.”
She shows a disapproving expression before standing from her seat, planting a small kiss to Cedric’s cheek before walking away from the Hufflepuff table. For some reason she could feel her heart beating faster, unsure if she’s more afraid to prove her words wrong or true. Neither of the outcomes seem to be pleasing for her. If George really has feelings for her then she wouldn’t know how she could live her life knowing that she’s hurt him with the fake dating. Yet if he doesn’t, why does she feel like she would crash and fall from the bitter truth?
“Morning, Gentlemen.” She greets the table “Saved a seat for me?”
“Aren’t you already secured one with the Hufflepuffs?”
Her smile dilutes, George’s cold tone poisoning her, “I’m still a Gryffindor, aren’t I?”
“Yeah, well maybe there’s another spot open down the right.” George continues, still not looking up to her “You can join Ron and his group of friends.”
“There’s a spot right next to you, George.”
The boy picks up his satchel, placing it in the mentioned space, “Full. Sorry.”
She blinks at his callous gesture. It’s hard to believe that such words came out of his lips, the very one person who has always showered her with affection and warmth. She could see the same appalled expression shown on Fred and Lee’s faces, who didn’t expect George to be this bitter at her. Sure they know that he’s been struggling with the new sight of the couple, but never in a million years have they expected to see George being this hard to her.
“I see.” She replies, forcing a smile now “Well, I’ll see you guys at the field then.”
“Don’t even bother coming if you’re going to be with the enemy.”
“What’s got your wand in a knot, George?!” She bursts “Why are you suddenly so cruel to me?”
“Me? Cruel?” The boy questions, this time looking up to see her with angered eyes “I’m not the one tossing their friends away for some pretty boy she’s only befriended with for weeks!”
“Toss away? I didn’t come to one of your quidditch practices and you think that I’m tossing you away?” She questions, chuckling bitterly “I’m sorry, I wasn’t aware that being friends with you meant that I couldn’t date someone I like.”
George smirks, “At least you got that part right.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You really think that Diggory likes you?” He asks, this time standing up to tower her “You really think that someone like him would ever like someone as bland like you? You’re dense if you think that he ever likes you back.”
She let out a shuddering breath, tears starting to prick on her eyes from his harsh words. George seems to realise the weight of his words too as he blinks, facial features turning softer yet still showing the much bottled anger he’s erupting. He opens his mouth before closing it again, unable to make up words to follow his last.
“Fuck off, George.” She says with a cold tone, glaring at the boy.
Fighting her tears, she walks back to the Hufflepuff table with a broken heart. The possibility that George likes her has certainly been crossed out. The words he uttered are not the ones you said to someone you like, let alone someone you love. His words were only the reflection of his jealousy and bitterness that she’s now found someone who could appreciate her as much as he does. Well, did, as she swore not to ever befriend the red head again.
She takes the seat next to Cedric, sniffling slightly, “Kiss me.”
“What?” He questions, looking worried at her teary eyes “What happened? Are you alright?”
“Just kiss me, Ced.”
And so the boy leans in, kissing her gently on the lips. For the first time the couple finally shows intimate gestures, something more than holding hands or hugs, something that further proves that the two are indeed in a romantic relationship. The stunt was witnessed by the eyes of the Great Hall. Some were gasping in awe, some raised their brows in confusion, and two were staring at the couple with a sinking heart. One having a worse anguish than the other.
—-
She chews on her lower lip, trying to focus on the words Cedric was telling but his first sentence rang in her head like a broken record. Stimpson has finally asked him for a study date, meaning that she’s finally taken interest in him. The objective of the fake dating is achieved, there really isn’t any reason left for them to keep the act.
She should be happy that Cedric could finally get the girl he’s always been pining for, yet a bigger part of her wished that Stimpson would approach Cedric a bit later. Perhaps a few weeks from now when things between her and George were already settled. When he’s finally come to her and apologise for the hurtful words he spat on her that day. She knew that there was no way that Cedric would ever like her, it’s not like she cared about it anyway, but did he really think that she was bland? That she wasn’t worth Cedric or any guy’s time? Is she really that unattractive?
“Hey, you okay?” Cedric asks, looking worried at her now “You seem off today.”
“I’m fine.” She says with a smile, taking a sip of her butterbeer “So we should end this act, then.”
He nods lightly, “I suppose.”
“Why don’t you sound happy about it?”
“Because I know things between you and one of the Weasley twins is yet to be resolved.” He explains, taking her hand and giving it a light squeeze “I’m very sorry that with my uprising, comes your downfall with him.”
“Don’t be silly, it wasn’t your fault.” She rolls her eyes, smiling “We’ll figure something out. He’ll come around.”
No, she wasn’t sure that he'd come around. It has been weeks since their dreadful fight and George has made every effort to avoid her. She hardly ever saw him, not even at the Great Hall or the Common Room. It was as if he was a ghost that used to reside inside her brain, now gone into thin air as some beautiful myth she’s to tell to others.
But at the same time, George was there. He was still in their classes, still at quidditch practices, and every other activity that they used to do together. The fact that he hasn’t made any effort to fix their friendship hurts her. She didn’t realise that the foolish idea she proposed to Cedric would lead to such a devastating outcome.
And she too didn’t expect that their fight would make her realise that she’s in love with her own best friend.
Perhaps she was denying everyone’s question about their relationship because she was scared that the affection only flows one way. George has never approved nor denied the accusation thrown at him about them anyway and he certainly never made any effort to advance with his feelings should he ever have any in the first place. It was hard for her to tell if what others say was true about them and she didn’t want to have high hopes over something that he himself hasn’t approved of.
But now that the fight’s happened, how he blatantly says that she was bland, she knew that the words others say were mere lies. George had never liked her that way. She has always been a friend to him, nothing more. The affection he’s shown to her was nothing more than platonic and it broke her heart.
“So should we end it here? Right now?” She asks, taking a deep breath “The sooner we break up, the sooner you can woo Stimpson. Might want to be fast before she loses interest.”
Cedric smiles, nodding and standing up to give her a hug, “Thank you, and I hope you can reconcile your friendship with Weasley.”
She nods, waving goodbye to him who’s now walking out of the inn.
She let out a sigh, feeling pathetic to herself now at the corner of the Three Broomsticks. She’s lost George and now she lost Cedric too. Just how worse can her life be now?
Yet as if she’s spoken too fast, she saw her group of friends entering the inn. Fred waves at her, followed by Lee who calls for her name. George was standing not far behind them, seemingly not ready to meet her yet still follows the other two.
“Hello, stranger.” Fred greets, walking to her table “Long time no see. Where’s pretty boy?”
“Freddie,” She replies with a smile “Gone, we broke up.”
Fred’s smile fades, frowning, “I’m sorry, Love, I didn’t know.”
“Yeah, it just happened, actually.” She answers nonchalantly, turning to George this time “Supposedly you're happy now, aren’t you George?”
The boy didn’t say a word, only staring at her with an apologetic expression.
“You know what, I have to go.” She says, not wanting to spend any more minutes with his presence “I’ll see you guys around.”
And so she takes her purse and walks away from the table. She exits the inn in a hurry, not wanting to be followed by any of them. Her chest was tight and head loud. So many things running inside her mind and every one of it revolves around one particular ginger.
How could she face him now? How could she face him after their fight? He was being a jerk that day and now that they’ve broken up, it would only further feed his ego. Being right about their short lived fake relationship would be something George would wear like a badge of honour. She couldn’t care less about him being right, what bothers her is the fact that not only was he right but that she’s also the loser who hoped that her best friend was actually in love with her too.
Why couldn’t George be jealous the way Stimpson did? Why does he have to be jealous for a whole different reason? Why couldn’t he like her?
“Love, wait!”
She fastened her pace as she heard his voice calling from behind. No, she’s not ready to talk to him. Her head is still fuzzy from all the questions and self blame. Meeting him would only lead to another argument and she’s unsure if her quivering heart could survive another turbulence.
“Wait,” George says as he catches her arm, making her stop on her track “Please, I just wanted to talk.”
“Well, I don’t want to talk, George.” She says, still not looking at him “You’ve made your point and you’re right, no need to rub it on my face.”
“No, that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about. What I wanted to say is-”
“Look, I’m tired, alright? It’s been a long day and I really want to get back to my room.”
“I know, this would be fast, I promise-”
“Not now, George.”
She turns her body, ready to walk away before he grabs her wrist again and turns her.
“What?!”
Before she could complain further from his persistent action, she finds herself being kissed on the lips. She could feel how tense George’s body was, in contrast to how gentle his kiss was. His eyes were tightly shut, as if afraid to see her rejection from the abrupt action. The grip on her wrist loosen, giving her the chance to pull away and shove him off if she would want to.
George lets out a nervous sigh when he pulls away. He could see her appalled expression when he opened his eyes, his blood running cold from the possible outcome of his hasty action. Would she hate him even worse now?
“I’m sorry.” He gathers, voice barely above whisper “I- I don’t know what came into me. I just-”
She didn’t let him finish his words. She pulled him for another kiss, this time showing him how to properly kiss a girl. She pulls him close, eliminating any distance between them that seems to be growing further apart lately, He hesitantly rests his hands on her waist, showing more meaning and confidence to his action. Both of their hearts were beating wild, adrenaline pumping through their vessels as they prayed that the other party wouldn’t regret this once they breath for some air.
“We have so much to talk about.” George says in between the kisses “How is this happening?”
“Less talking,” She answers short “More kissing.”
George grins through the kisses. He now has his hands cupping her cheeks gently, giving her his most possible soft caresses. Merlin knows how much he waited and prayed for this to happen. The second guessing and self doubt now has dissipated, melting away with every peck they share. At last the denial has come to a close. Both acknowledging and embracing their long hoarded feelings for each other with glee. What was once loved and lost, have now returned, giving them the chance to properly show their devotion this time.
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klausysworld · 2 years
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Any chance of something With Klaus and reader, where reader is worried about how much time Klaus and Cami spend together, but Klaus plus everyone tells her not to worry. It their anniversary and reader is all ready for the night out that Klaus has planned but Klaus doesn’t show and comes home to find reader asleep on their bed still dressed in her gorgeous dress it then he remembers their anniversary.
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You were with Cami
Pt 2
For weeks i had listened to the entire Mikaelson family had been persuading me that Klaus was loyal and would never do anything to harm me.
See he’d been spending the majority of his time with his new friend Camille, i’ve met her a few times and she’s so unbelievably nice. Like she’s polite, smiles, gives her perfect opinions and makes everything laugh. And just to top it off she likes me, decided we should be friends too. We even went out for lunch. She’s lovely. I would want her too. And i hate her for that.
It’s wrong to be mad at her but she must know that she’s some what harming mine and Klaus’s relationship. You can’t be giggling at every little thing he says with your hand on his bicep without knowing that you’re flirting.
One time she kissed his cheek right in front of me, she gave me such a kind smile i would have looked like a dick if i didn’t return it. When i brought it up to Klaus he told me i was being dramatic and needed to ‘calm down’
Somehow i’m not allowed to talk to a single being of the male community but if i get upset over him dancing with a gorgeous blond then i’m being jealous and pathetic. I thought at least Elijah would back me up being the ‘feminist’ he says he is but noooo “Niklaus loves you y/n, you’re imagining things. You’re hid redemption and you can’t be thinking silly things, it will ruin your relationship”
Well bet they weren’t prepared for me storming through the compound in a very expensive body con dress. One i had spent hours choosing so that my own boyfriend or whatever he was meant to be would notice me
See he had asked me to meet him at this restaurant and let me just say it was nice restaurant with a lot of snobs sat in it. Lets imagine the immense embarrassment i felt when i sat waiting at a table for over 4 hours. Thankfully the waiter was sympathetic and felt bad so he gave me some free drinks. I actually ended up having a pretty good chat with him, his fiancé had left him a week before their wedding, i think we both cried a little too much and the people in there did not like us.
Once the place closed i came back to the compound and the second i stepped foot inside it seemed to hit me again. He left me alone, no text, no call, no excuses. I was holding together until the other Mikaelsons came into view and Rebekah just had to mention him
“where’s Nik? i thought you two would’ve been back ages ago”
and i burst into tears. I saw the panic in all their faces as they quickly went to comfort me. Rebekah wrapped her arm around me and Kol took my hand but i shoved both of them off
“no! none of you get to pretend you care anymore, you all knew didn’t you? you knew he was with her, knew he wouldn’t come to be with me because why would he anymore!? And i swear if anyone of you says that i make him a better person i think i might just scream, i am not his redemption and i don’t mean anything to him anymore, your entire family is one big lie, you’re all liars and i hate all of you, i’m staying the night and that’s only because i have drank way too much to be driving but i don’t want any of you saying goodbye because i will be gone by the time you wake up and yes Elijah i know you get up fucking early” half of my words were definitely slurred but i think the message was clear regardless as i made my way upstairs and collapsed on Klaus and i’s bed. The bed that i thought we would both come back to, instead i was cold, alone and drunk.
———————————————————————
(third person)
Klaus had just got home to three nervous siblings. Elijah was pacing the length of the living area while Kol chugged his scotch and Rebekah chewed at her once perfectly manicured nails. Klaus narrowed his eyes as they all froze upon his arrival
“who did something stupid?” he asked with a sigh and Kol hesitantly raised his hand
“don’t dagger me but um i think you did…”
“what?”
“i’d check upstairs if i were you”
and so he did
Klaus turned the light on only to find his love curled up in a beautiful tight dress and a tear stained face. It took him a minute before he finally realised what had happened
“no no no no” he whispered as he lifted her passed out body, the smell of alcohol was strong as he held her in his arms
“oh my love, please forgive me” he uttered as he peppered her face with kisses
“i’m so sorry” he told her despite her unconscious state.
“you look so gorgeous sweetheart, you look like an angel” he whispered rocking her gently
“i’m going to make this all up to you when you wake up, i promise you y/n, i love you so so much” he carefully removed her dress and slipped one of his shirts onto her, he wiped her once flawless makeup off of her face
“i’m so sorry” he repeated continuously while getting her ready, slipping her heels from her feet and taking out her elegantly styled hair before brushing it through and plaiting it for her. He didn’t bother changing his clothes as he got into bed and held her as close to him as he could
“i’m so sorry i wasn’t with you”
“you were with Cami” she tiredly uttered, still pretty much unconscious though that didn’t stop the flow of tears in her sleep. His heart hurt as he heard her broken voice
“i’ll never speak to her again, i’ll never see her again” he promised both her and himself
“i love you” he muttered kissing her lips softly
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thesoulspulse · 2 years
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Danny Phantom Randomness (Principal Masters)
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Not sure if this idea has been used in the phandom before, probably not since it’s a pretty common for the principal of a school in a cartoon to be the antagonist in some way, but I thought I’d share it anyways. So here’s what I’m thinking. Personally I think it would have made a lot more sense for Vlad to switch tactics and double down on trying to win Danny over instead of going full cookie-cutter-bad-guy-that-wants-to-rule-the-world after cloning him failed which would make him realize that his little badger really is one of a kind and what he has can’t be replicated.
Up until this point Vlad’s been making Danny’s life more difficult instead of easier which was his whole sales pitch when they first met...
Vlad: Daniel, stop. Think about the things I could show you, the doors I could open for you. You, Danny Phantom, and I, Vlad Plasmius. Together, we could rule.
Then there’s these comments Vlad made to Danny in Reign Storm...
Vlad: Sneak attack, very good, Daniel.You're getting more like me with every battle.
Danny: I AM NOTHING LIKE YOU!
Vlad: Oh, you're not? Using your powers to get back at people you don't like? Throwing the first punch? You're more like me than you know.
I’m so disappointed this didn’t develop into something more interesting where Danny starts to genuinely worry he’s becoming too much like Vlad which would have made the events of The Ultimate Enemy twice as cool because it’d be like a glimpse of that reality where he’d actually become worse than Vlad. But, back to the topic at hand! I’ve mentioned this in a few of my fanfics but I think the whole cloning thing was more of a desperate attempt to get Danny on his side since Vlad never really made any serious attempts to tempt him to join willingly and just spent the whole time bashing Jack and telling Danny he’d be a better father.
With that in mind, rather than being a petty rich bully after Danny gets Vlad’s mansion destroyed in Season 3 what if Vlad decided to put his foot down to “re-educate” him so to speak? What I mean by that is instead of running for Mayor of Amity Park, why didn’t Vlad try to replace the principal of Casper High? For one thing it would have ACTUALLY made sense because the position doesn’t require living somewhere for more than 6 months and its purely based on their education and teaching experience. And I think overshadowing the right people on a smaller scale would make it more believable than the whole Mayor thing.
Vlad could of course still be a jerk about a lot of things to get back at Danny like force the whole dress code thing, however, it would have been an interesting twist if when Danny comes to Vlad to apologize and ask for a truce he graciously accepts which totally throws Danny for a loop. Why? Because that was the plan all along! Vlad wanted Danny to learn there are consequences to his actions, realized that fighting him is counterproductive, and on top of that, to actually show how much easier he could make Danny’s life by letting him become a part of it.
Honestly, I absolutely love the idea of him unexpectedly becoming the cranky overprotective type kind of like what you see in this amazing comic strip by @lilianade-comics​: https://www.tumblr.com/lilianade-comics/703807353584320512/aw-man-dont-you-hate-it-when-your-arch-enemy?source=share
Think about it. If Vlad started to make Jack look bad without actively insulting him to make Danny finally get fed up with being hunted by his parents to the point where he’d reluctantly go there just to catch his breath once the two of them agree to a cease fire. Trouble with the high school bullies? In comes Uncle Vlad who happens to be the richest man in the world and a close personal friend of the Fenton family so Danny’s off limits. Ghost attack? Vlad helps cover up Danny disappearing to fight them or even scares them off if he has an important test that day. The list goes on on what Vlad could do to either make Danny’s life a living hell in a more personalized way by invading his school life or a lot better depending on their interactions at Casper High.
Long story short its basically using the idea that you catch more flies with honey than vinegar and all that so seeing Vlad gradually start doing nice things for Danny from time to time might help change his tune. Because deep down Danny DOES want to learn more about being half-ghost, but he refuses to accept Vlad’s offer to join him because he hasn’t really done anything to make it appealing. Vlad’s always insulting Danny and his father so if you ask me, giving him the praise he doesn’t get at home or at school could change so much between them...
Vlad’s just gotta be smarter about it.
Obviously Danny would be suspicious if Vlad started acting too nice to him right away so the changes would be gradual. And whenever he goes to Vlad for help or at the very least asks if he’ll cut him some slack Vlad will reward him for coming to him first. Especially because unlike his parents, Vlad knows exactly how much he’s dealing with and I’d love it if what started off as a plan to manipulate Danny transformed into an actual student and mentor relationship leading into a redemption arc instead of whatever Season 3 was.
And there you have it. Principal Masters AU anyone?
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withwritersblock · 6 months
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Say Love
~Say Love by James TW~
Author's Note: this is inspired by Chimney and Maddie from 9-1-1: such an amazing show. As always italics are flashbacks Summary: Kirby says I love you for the first time Warnings: mention of emotional abuse in relationships Word Count: 1,200 Kirby Dach x fm!reader
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There is something so pretty about the way he eyes her. She was brighter than the sky during a sunset. She was warm and the kindest person he’d ever met. He was in love. He has yet to tell her. He was afraid that she wouldn’t say it back. 
She has been waiting for Kirby to come back for three days. He had scored in a shootout against his former team in Chicago. He called her the second he got back to his hotel room and they talked the entire night. 
She stood against the kitchen counter as his door was pushed open. He smiled widely as he dragged his suitcase inside. “Hey baby,” he mumbled as he rested his suitcase against the wall and walked towards her. She jumped into his arms as she laughed.
“God, I’ve missed you,” she whispered into his ear as she rested her hand on the base of the neck. He loosely wrapped his arms around her waist as he spun her in a circle, “How are you feeling?” she asked as he delicately put her down. His hands were still holding her waist as she rested her hands on his cheek. He smiled.
“Amazing, so glad to be home,” he muttered as he leaned towards her, kissing her urgently. “So glad to see you,” he mumbled against her lips as he guided her backwards towards the couch. He kissed her again as he tightened his grip against her waist. 
“I wish I was there,” she mumbled as she slowly sat down on the couch, keeping his lips close to hers. 
“Me too baby,” he said as he pulled away from her. He looked deeply into her eyes as he lifted his hand and rested it onto her cheek. His thumb slowly ran across her warm cheek. 
The words were on his tongue for the first time in their relationship. He’s spent his entire roadtrip thinking about her and craving her touch. He missed the way she made him feel. He missed when his heart would race just by meeting her eye. 
It was still early, too early to say it but he thought it. He felt the words on his lips and wanted to say them the longer he searched her features. Instead his lips found hers again as he slowly pushed her on her back; climbing on top of her.
She was sitting on their balcony, drinking a cup of coffee as she watched the sunset over Montreal. A place she moved to a year ago because she wanted a new life. A new life that she wasn’t aware of was going to later include a gorgeous man. She had gotten out of a long term relationship that was incredibly toxic. Emotionally hard to be involved in. 
The last thing she ever wanted was to be in a relationship. Until she met a boy who lived in the same apartment building as she did. He was also new to town and also unwilling to be in a relationship. 
All Kirby wanted was a friend that didn’t play hockey. Kirby and Y/N first met while they were getting packages from their mailboxes. After that she invited Kirby up to her apartment. They played Mario Kart and talked about their new lives in Montreal. 
Any time they weren’t busy with other people they would hang out. And after four months, she kissed him and they started dating shortly after. 
She ran her hands over the sweater on her frame as Kirby raised his hand up and knocked it onto Nick’s door. The team was having a get together before the holiday break and Kirby was introducing Y/N for the first time. 
“Come in!” Nick shouted from inside. He met her gaze and raised his eyebrows. She nodded her head as she took a hold of his hand. Leaning towards her, he pressed his lips against her cheek before he pushed open the door. “Kirby man,” Nick shouted as he walked away from Cole.
Nick quickly wrapped his arms around Kirby, “How are you always the last one here?” Nick chuckled as he pulled away, glancing at Y/N.
“Nick, this is my girlfriend, Y/N,” he mumbled as he pulled her closer to his side. Y/N smiled kindly towards him.
“Nice to meet you, welcome to the family,” Nick expressed excitedly as he smiled towards her.
“Thank you,” she mumbled as she leaned closer to Kirby. He ran his hand up and down her side.
“Come on, I wanna show you off,” he mumbled against her hair before he kissed the top of her head. She chuckled nervously as she remained attached at his hip.
She rested her head on his chest, as she felt his hands run slow circles across her skin. It was perfect. Just the two of them in bed together, watching the sun rise over the city of Montreal.
Except Kirby was keeping his eyes on Y/N, admiring the sleepiness in her features. The three words were on his tongue as he wanted nothing more than to say them.
“You’re so quiet,” she mumbled before she pressed her lips against his chest. He hummed as his hand started to slowly glide up her skin.
“Just thinking,” he mumbled as she lifted her head up to meet his gaze, his lips curled upward.
She hummed, “Yeah?” she asked as she pursed her lips forward. He hummed as he bit his bottom lip. She furrowed her eyebrows as she smirked softly. “So are you going to tell me?” she asked as she glided her hand up his chest. 
He looked deeply into her eyes, “I love you,” he blurted out. His eyes widened as well as her own. Her lips parted as her heart started to race. “I’m sorry-”
“No, no, don't apologize,” she mumbled as she kissed him. She pulled away and stared into his eyes, “I just haven’t been able to hear those words without flinching in years,” she mumbled as she ran her thumb across his cheek, the beard scratching her skin. He ran his hand up and down her back soothingly. 
“I feel the same way,” she muttered, his smile faltering slightly. “I just don’t know if I can say those exact words,” he clenched his jaw as he furrowed his eyebrows, “I would use those words as a defense against my ex. I never really felt like they meant what they should’ve meant when I would say them. I don’t know if that makes any sense but Kirby, I truly believe you are my soulmate,” she mumbled.
His smile formed on his lips widely again as he scanned her features, “One day, I can say it back,” she muttered. He leaned towards her, kissing her urgently. “Say it again,” she mumbled against his lips, meeting his gaze.
“I love you,” he let out, her heart fluttering, “I love you so much,” he expressed.
“I’m gonna need you to say it a lot,” she mumbled as she pecked her lips against his.
“Don’t worry, baby girl, I’ll say it enough for the both of us,” he said before he devoured her lips with his.
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lumi-nescentt · 11 months
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Rumour Has It
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Part 2 - I Know What You Did Last Summer
Pairing: Jenson Button x Reader / Mark Webber x Reader
Warnings: jealousy, arguing, swearing, mention of cheating and toxic relationship overall
Words: 4.4k
Summary: After choosing Mark, you thought life would get calmer but the Australian's not who you thought he was and with Jenson still in the picture, your relationship might not survive it.
Part 1 - Part 3 - Part 4
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Years had gone by since Jenson had won it all and lost what he had wanted most in the same day. The Brit had tried to forget you, tried in vain to find someone else that could make his heart beat like you did. 
Sadly for Jenson, your relationship with Mark had only evolved from that night in 2009 and you had now been dating for more than 4 years. Your relationship had its ups and downs but you were now living together and it solved most of your problems. Mark was no longer grumpy because he missed you too much and you were more than happy to feel so loved and wanted in your relationship. 
The only clouds hovering over your relationship were how Mark was treated at work and his obsession with your friendship with Jenson. According to him, you cared too much about the Brit, gave him too much of your attention and not enough to your boyfriend, as he liked to remind you.
You had watched with the years passing as a countless number of girls hung on Jenson’s arm for a moment before he was back on his own. It had become some sort of running joke in the paddock and everyone was betting on how long Jenson’s new girl would last. 
Despite always smiling and joking around, you could sense that something was going on with Jenson. When you had tried to bring it up with him, he had only told you not to worry about it before kissing your forehead and fleeing. Your constant worrying about his happiness didn’t really help the jealousy Mark was feeling but, as you liked to remind him, Jenson was his friend too so he should have been trying to help instead of being a moody git. 
When Mark announced his retirement from F1, a lot of people were shocked, you included. For all of the time you spent talking to him, the Australian had never mentioned it to you. It’s not that you felt like you had something to say about it but you had thought changing career was something you’d mention to your girlfriend of 4 years before sharing it to the world.
The Australian, however, didn’t understand why you were upset, which led to one of your first big arguments.
-“ I just don’t understand why you wouldn’t tell me.” you exhaled, trying to explain to him for the fifth time since you had gotten back to your hotel room. 
-“ I told you today, just like I did with the rest of the world sweetheart.” 
-“ That’s exactly my point, Mark. I learned about it at the same time as everyone else.”
-“ So ?”
-“ I’m your girlfriend, I hoped that it was a good enough reason for you to talk to me about those kinds of things.” 
-“ Yeah well as my girlfriend like you said, I thought you’d be happier for me.” Mark grumbled, feeling himself starts to get more annoyed
-“ That’s not the point, you know I’m happy you’re moving on. You know damn well what I think about how you got treated so don’t pull that card on me right now.” you snapped back, pointing your finger at him “The problem here is that you don’t see why I would’ve liked to know when you were thinking about it and not once it’s a done deal.” 
-“ You’re right. I don’t see why you’re upset. As far as I know, this decision concerns my career, not yours, so I don’t see what you would have brought to the conversation.”
-“ Oh for Christ’s sake Mark ! Get your head out of your arse. I’ve never forced you to do anything when it came to your career. I never criticised your work or claimed to know better than you what was good for you so you can stop taking jabs at me and just try to understand why I’m hurt.”
-“ There’s nothing to be hurt about, can you please stop making a fuss ? We have a plane to catch tomorrow and I’m tired.” 
-“ Making a fuss ? Are you kidding me ?”
-“ Yes, making a fuss. You’re here cornering me in my hotel room, forcing me to have this argument with you when there’s nothing to talk about.” the Australian sighed loudly, rubbing his hand over his face
-“ Oh, I’m sorry if I’m bothering you with my feelings, Mark. I just thought I could talk about how I felt with my boyfriend but apparently not only doesn’t he want to share things with me but he also doesn’t care about how his actions have an impact on others either because all he thinks about is himself.” you snarled, feeling tears prickling at the corner of your eyes
-“ Come on sweetheart, please let’s go to bed and talk about it in the morning if you want.” 
-“ Don’t call me that ! You don’t get to call me sweetheart right now when you’re making me feel like a shitty girlfriend for caring about you and your goddamn job. I only wanted you to trust me enough to confide in me and understand where I’m coming from. Apparently that’s too much to ask so no, I’m not going to bed with you.” you spat, grabbing your jacket and your purse hurriedly
-“ What are you doing y/n ?” 
-“ I’m leaving, enjoy the empty bed Mark.” 
-“ Don’t leave alright, I’m sorry. Come lie down for a while, you’ll feel better.” Mark tried, holding out his hand for you from where he was sitting on the edge of the bed
-“ I don’t want to be around you right now, I need you to respect that. I don’t want to say things I’ll regret and I’m tired of arguing so I need some air.”
-“ Where are you going to go ? It’s quite late.”
-“ I’ll find something. If I’m not back by the time we have to leave for the airport, I’ll meet you there.” 
-“ You’re not coming back here for the night ?” 
-“ I don’t know. Just don’t wait for me, alright ?”
-“ Okay” Mark paused as you made your way to the door “I love you y/n” 
You didn’t bother answering, only closing the door behind you before taking a shaky breath, realising what had just happened. You had nowhere to go, your friends here were also Mark’s friends and you knew there was a big chance that he would text around to know where you were. You usually found it sweet, how much he cared about you and how much time he wanted to be around you but tonight you needed a little breathing room. 
That’s how you found yourself walking around the city at night, entering in the closest bar you found. You sat yourself at the bar ordering a drink when you heard a familiar sound. You turned around, hoping you had been mistaken but no, there he was. Daniel Ricciardo, the joyful Australian that was set to replace your boyfriend. 
It’s not that you didn’t want to see him, Daniel was a lovely guy after all. You had just hoped to escape the whole F1 world and seeing him only reminded you of Mark. You prayed that he wouldn’t see you or that if he did, he wouldn’t come and talk to you because you knew you looked rough. The walk you took had allowed you to let some of the frustration out and you were well aware of the smudged mascara under your eyes. 
Sadly for you, Daniel’s eyes found yours and he waved before making his way over to you, quickly followed by someone else.
-“ Well if it isn’t my favourite reporter…” Daniel teased with a grin
-“ Hello Daniel, Jules.” you smiled softly at the French driver who was behind his friend
-“ Where’s the mountain of muscle you call a boyfriend, is he here ?” Daniel asked
-“ Nope.” You smirked before taking a sip of your drink
-“ I know this is probably none of my business but are you alright ? You look like hell.” Daniel tried before getting elbowed by Jules
-“ What Dan is saying is that you can talk to us if something is wrong and also if you don’t want to be alone, you can definitely stay with us until you’re sick of our shit.” Jules kindly offered
-“ That’s really kind of you. Mark and I just argued, nothing bad. I just needed some air.” 
-“ Well let’s cheer you up then !” Daniel smiled before taking your hands and dragging you to where they had been sitting
That’s how you ended your night, talking and drinking with two drivers that were 7 years younger than you. In the end, they managed to make you smile and Jules had to push you into the taxi for the airport for you to actually leave them. 
When Mark saw you at the airport, still wearing the same outfit as when you left and your puffy eyes, he knew he had royally fucked up. Instead of picking up the argument back from where you guys had left it or scolding you for not telling him where you were or if you were alright, he engulfed you in a hug. 
You let yourself melt into his embrace as he whispered how sorry he was about how he had reacted and for not talking to you about his retirement. You were still a bit hurt but hearing him apologising felt good. On top of that, when you stepped back from the hug and saw his teary eyes, you knew holding onto the argument would hurt you both so as pained as you had been, you let the grudge go and linked your fingers with his, ready to go back home. 
This fight had been the first big one and you had hoped it would have been the last one but when Mark started his endurance career, everything slowly went sour. You no longer worked together which already took a toll on your relationship but your schedules were also drastically different. 
Mark was almost always away when you were home even if he didn’t have to race. You knew how important fitting in with the team was but surely spending all his free time at the Porsche factory in Stuttgart wasn’t necessary. Especially when you had a free weekend which was rare. 
The physical distance started to hurt your communication as well and you barely knew what the other was doing at this point. The few times you managed to be home at the same time, you mostly argued and one of you walked out of the conversation. The smallest arguments turned big instantly. Whether it was about how you missed him, which he took as you telling him to work less or about how he thought you saw his friends more than him and got better along with them than he did nowadays.
Jenson got brought up a few times in those arguments. Mark criticising how close you two seemed whenever he tuned in on the F1 broadcast and how he thought you were being too flirty with the Brit for his liking. His jealousy got the better of him during arguments a few times and he brought up the kiss you had shared back in 2009 to make you admit that you were attracted to Jenson.
No matter how often you reminded Mark that despite kissing Jenson, you had chosen to date him, Mark wouldn’t listen. He was convinced you would eventually get with Jenson while he was away. In the end, you got tired of his accusations and whenever he brought the subject up, you didn’t answer, just nodding along until he grew tired of your silence and walked out. 
When Jenson texted you in October, asking if he could stay at your place in England  the next month so he could visit his family while they hosted a big get-together that had the rooms of his childhood house packed with Buttons, you knew saying yes would be playing with fire but you agreed. After all, Jenson was a friend and all he needed was a place to stay, it’s not like you were doing anything wrong, he would only come back to your place to sleep. 
Deep down, you knew Mark would be angry if he heard but he would be away racing in Bahrain so what he didn’t know couldn’t hurt him. You knew Jenson and him barely talked anymore so the chances of him knowing about his friend’s visit were very slim. Plus, there were no chances of them seeing each other because Jenson had to be in Abu Dhabi on the 16th and Mark had to go to Stuttgart until the 18th to wrap up the season. Nothing could go wrong.
On November 11th, Jenson arrived at your door in Oxford just after dinner so you only had time to show him his room before the two of you went to bed. When you woke up the next day, the smell of breakfast tickling your nose, you froze. Was Mark back earlier than you thought ?
You made your way downstairs as quietly as possible to try and sneak a glance at the person cooking in your kitchen. The weight on your shoulder lifted when you recognised Jenson standing in front of the stove, happily whistling while he cooked.
-“ I didn’t know you could cook…” you teased, making the Brit turn around with a smile as you leaned against the kitchen counter behind him
-“ What can I say, there’s more to me than my handsome face and muscular body…”
-“ I’m glad you didn’t mention your incredible brain, I would have hated to be the one to ruin your illusion.” 
-“ If I had known you’d be this mean I wouldn’t have made French toast but I guess I could keep it all to myself…” Jenson feigned offence 
-“ Nooo, please Jenson. That’s my favourite breakfast, I’m sorry.” you whined which only made Jenson’s smile bigger
-“ I know, that’s why I made it.” 
-“ How ?” 
-“ You told me once, I just remembered that’s all…”
-“ I really don’t remember, when was that ?” 
-“ If I’m not mistaken it was 2010 at Silverstone.” he shrugged
-“ That’s 4 years ago, there’s no way you still remember something I told you once.” 
-“ What can I say, love ? I do listen when you talk. Now let’s eat while it’s warm so go sit.” 
-“ Oh so you’re letting me have the breakfast you cooked with my food ?” 
-“ Sit down and eat before I change my mind and shove the whole plate in my mouth.” 
-“ You’re so dramatic.” you muttered before following him to the dining room
The rest of your day went on normally, Jenson was off to see his grandparents for the day while you just started working on some stuff you had put off and answered some emails. 
Deciding to enjoy the fact that it had stopped raining, you got dressed in your sports clothes and headed out for a run, only to return an hour later. You had managed to avoid the rain for most of your workout but it had started pouring while you were still 10 minutes away from your house. Clearly in need of a warm shower and dry clothes, you turned in your driveway, seeing Jenson’s car.
You made your way upstairs, trying to walk as little as possible to avoid soaking the whole floor. The door to Jenson’s room was half-opened but you still knocked, waiting for an answer before you entered. Jenson looked up from where he was sitting on the bed, a book on his lap and glasses on his nose. You couldn’t help but stare at him for a second before coming back to your senses.
-“ Do you need me for anything or did you just come to enjoy the view ?” he teased, not missing the blush creeping on your face when you got caught
-“ I just needed to grab some clothes, get over yourself.” 
-“ Do you really have so many clothes that it doesn’t fit your shared dressing room with Mark ?” he joked, getting up to stand next to you
-“ No, that’s not it. Can you please move so I can get what I came in here for ?” 
-“ I don’t believe you, I’m sure the closet is overflowing. I’ll go see for myself and prove that you’re a terrible liar !” he said, making his way towards the bedroom you had been sleeping in before getting stopped by your hand on his arm
-“ Jenson please.” you almost whispered, making the Brit turn around, seeing the pained look on your face
-“ What’s going on, y/n ? You know you can talk to me.”
-“ I know. It’s really nothing, don’t worry about it.” you tried to brush it off
-“ If it’s nothing, tell me about it then.” he tried again, sitting back on the bed as you rested your hip against the dresser
-“ I just leave most of my clothes here so I don’t have to go into the bedroom.” 
-“ Why wouldn’t you want to go into your own room, I don’t understand. Isn’t it less convenient to sleep in one room and have to go in another to grab some clothes ?”
-“ I don’t sleep in there often.” you confessed, looking at your feet
-“ I thought the big room was the room you two shared ?” 
-“ It’s Mark’s room.” 
-“ Then it must be yours too, no ?” Jenson tried to wrap his head around what you were telling him as you shook your head
-“ This is my room, this is why my clothes are in there…” 
-“ And here I thought Mark couldn’t breathe without having some part of him touching you.” Jenson started to laugh but the sound died in his throat when he heard you sniffle “ Oh God. I’m an idiot, I’m so sorry love. I had no idea things weren’t going well between you two. Here I am joking about it, what a tosser.” 
-“ It’s okay, you didn’t know.” you breathed sharply as he stood up and wrapped his arms around you “ You’re going to get soaked…” 
-“ It’s okay, that’ll make two of us.” he paused, suddenly unsure of what to say “Do you want to talk about it ?”
-“ I don’t know, maybe.” you confessed, a shiver making your entire body shake
-“ Why don’t you take a warm shower while I make us dinner and we can talk about it over a glass of wine and a warm meal ?” 
-“ That sounds really nice but I don’t want to bother you. You’re supposed to be my guest.” 
-“ Let me do this for you, y/n, please.” 
-“ If you insist. Just don’t burn my kitchen please.” you finally teased before grabbing a change of clothes and heading in the bathroom
Jenson stood in the room for a few minutes, still in shock, before he finally snapped out of it and made his way to the kitchen. He looked through the pantries and the fridge, trying to find something to cook on his own before giving up and pressing the call button on his phone. 
When you emerged from the shower an hour later, you could hear Jenson talking on the phone. Not wanting to bother him, you quietly made your way to the kitchen and sat on one of the stools in front of the kitchen island. The noise made Jenson turn around and he couldn’t help the smile that erupted when he saw how relaxed you look.
-“ Thank you, Ma. I have to go but I’ll see you tomorrow.” Jenson waved before hanging up the video call
-“ Your mom seems nice.”
-“ She really is. Nice enough to pick up and help me cook something decent.” 
-“ I’m not a picky eater, I would’ve been fine with some leftovers I have in the freezer, you know ?”
-“ I know, I just wanted to make something nice and reheating something didn’t mean the same thing as actually cooking.” 
-“ What did you make then Gordon Ramsay ?” 
-“ Don’t get your hopes up, I just made cottage pie.” Jenson laughed before you almost launched yourself in his arms, wrapping your arms around his waist. “ If I had known cooking for you was the way to get you to hug me like that, I would’ve done it earlier.” 
-“ Don’t ruin the moment, Jense.”
-“ Sorry.”
-“ Thank you.” 
-“ It’s nothing, don’t worry about it.”
-“ Still, thank you for being here.” 
Before he could add something else, you had slipped from his embrace and started setting the table for the two of you. Jenson didn’t push you to talk and instead just helped you silently, reaching for the wine glasses that were out of your reach anc checking on the pie that was just done cooking. 
Once everything was ready, the two of you sat down at the table and he let you bring up whatever topic you wanted to talk about. He could tell you were nervous to talk about the elephant in the room. You weren’t really looking at him directly and you kept drinking wine to try to relax. 
Once you had reached dessert, Jenson finally brought it up again. He couldn’t help but notice the way you tensed and dropped your spoon a little hard before motioning for him to follow you in the living room instead. 
You sat at one end of the couch as he sat on the opposite end, trying in vain to make you look at him but you couldn’t. You knew that the instant you started talking and saw his face, you’d be crying again and you had way too much to talk about. 
You took a deep breath before you finally opened your mouth to speak. You and Mark had gone to Australia for the summer break before he had to start training again like you always had since you had been dating. You had planned on staying a week at his parents’ house so he could see them and his sister at the same time.
You usually loved seeing the Webbers, they were extremely kind to you and his sister Leanne absolutely loved having you around because you made Mark a little more bearable, her words not yours. However this year, the argument about Mark’s retirement still hung over your heads and you could tell that it was starting to keep you apart.
Once you were settled in, Mark went out on his own for a few hours to clear his head. You had found it weird but since it was the first time you hadn’t asked anything. When he left at the same time the next day and the day after, always leaving for a few hours without telling anyone, you started asking him questions only to be answered with dry comments about how it wasn’t your business. 
On the fourth day, you had finally snapped and the two of you had started arguing which had ended with him walking out while you cried in your shared bedroom. Alerted by the noise, Leanne had came to check on you and you didn’t have to explain what had happened because the screaming match had been heard from the living room where she had been standing with her dad. 
You didn’t expect her to pick a side in the fight or to defend you and confront Mark but just like she had heard your argument, you had heard your boyfriend being scolded by his older sister. 
Mark obviously didn’t like that and as soon as his sister went back home and his parents went for a walk, he was back in your room to argue again. He didn’t even flinch when you started crying in front of him or when you called his sister to ask if you could stay at her place for the night. 
Two days later when Mark went out again, Leanne convinced you to go with her to try and see where he escaped to everyday. You had parked on the opposite side of the road from where Mark was sitting in a coffee shop apparently waiting for someone. You had zoned out, checking your phone out of boredom when Leanne had inhaled sharply before cursing her brother.
The insult made you look up and you watched as Mark kissed someone else. You blinked, hoping you had imagined it but when you opened your eyes again Mark was still kissing her. It took you a few more seconds to realise that the woman he was kissing wasn’t a stranger but actually his manager. 
You had to stop Leanne from getting out of the car and catching him red handed. You made her promise not to tell anyone and for once, the very talkative Australian just nodded and brought you back to her parents’ place without a word. 
Mark still had no idea you knew about his affair and you didn’t plan on telling him which bothered Jenson. How could Mark not know when you weren’t even sleeping in the same room anymore. You just shrugged and explained that with how often you two were fighting, it didn’t seem odd.
The thought that his friend could do this to you made his blood boil and he really didn’t understand why you didn’t leave him. When he asked you, you admitted that Mark was all you knew and you barely saw him anymore anyway so you clung onto the small parts of normality you could: your house, the habits you had here and even though it pained you, the memories of the good times with Mark. 
Once you were done talking, you finally looked up and as soon as Jenson saw your tear-stained cheeks, he brought you closer to him. Your head nestled against his shoulder as he rubbed his hand up and down your arm, trying to comfort you. You must have fallen asleep against him because when you opened your eyes again, you were tucked in your bed and the sun was starting to shine brightly despite the November cold. 
Jenson was already gone so you didn’t even get to thank him right away. When he came back, he just shrugged it off and placed a kiss on the top of your head before going to take a shower. To you it seemed like everything was back to normal between you but Jenson had promised himself he’d try to convince you to leave Mark before he left. Or at least to bring back a genuine smile on your face for good, no matter what it took.
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cherienymphe · 2 years
Text
Amnesiac X (Rafe Cameron x Reader x JJ Maybank)
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WARNINGS: eventual NON-CON, mentions of abuse, mentions of past assault, drunk driving, mentions of loss of virginity, underage drinking, drug use, non canon ages, kook!reader
➥ banner by @maysdigitalarts​​​ | divider by @firefly-graphics​
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Here is the much anticipated Ch. 10!
➥ series masterlist
summary: “There’s something wrong with your love story, baby…”
After a surfing accident leaves you with little to no memory of everything that happened before that day, you start to wonder if the blond in what little memories you do have is the same one who claims to be your boyfriend.
~
“Um…this is the best I’ve got.”
JJ was very awkward around you, offering the oversized t-shirt to you, lips pressed together. Your skin was still damp from your shower, practically scrubbed raw. You had spent over an hour in the shower, dragging your nails and the cloth over your body, paying no mind to the blood you drew. Even now, you could still feel Rafe on you, and under the spray of water, you had only wanted to get him off.
You shuddered, and you knew it had nothing to do with your damp skin and the cool air.
“Thanks,” you whispered, taking it from him.
He clearly didn’t know what else to say, and so he left you alone to get dressed. You glanced around, never having been to JJ’s house before. He’d made an offhanded comment that his dad wasn’t home, and you had been relieved about that for more reasons than one. You’d heard enough about JJ’s dad to know that was a man you never wanted to meet.
When you came out of his room, JJ had a small glass of water, and he cleared his throat.
“Here…”
You didn’t think you were that thirsty until you swallowed it all in one go. JJ didn’t hesitate to get you another, and you sank down onto the couch.
“Are you okay?” he wondered, standing over you.
“My best friend tried to rape me,” you dryly said, taking a sip. “What do you think?”
JJ nodded to himself, running his hands through his hair.
“Yeah, that was a stupid question.”
“No, it’s…it’s fine. I doubt you’ve been put in this position before,” you sighed. “Leave it to me to associate with horrible people.”
JJ made a noise in the back of his throat, and you looked up.
“This isn’t your fault.”
You looked back down, tightening your hand around the glass. You felt differently. Rafe was always an asshole, always so cruel to whoever he deemed worthy of it, and you had just accepted it as who he was instead of recognizing it as the very concerning personality flaw it was. Even still, all this time, you thought that Rafe was your friend.
“Thank you, by the way,” you told him.
JJ frowned at you before hesitantly sitting beside you.
“You don’t…you don’t have to thank me for that,” he said with a shake of his head.
“I mean…I know I’m not your favorite person.”
Rafe’s words still left you bitter, and you swallowed.
“So that means I’m supposed to let you get hurt?”
You ignored how JJ didn’t refute your statement, and you blinked back more tears.
“No,” you sighed. “That’s not what I’m saying. Just…thank you.”
JJ didn’t respond, and you watched him as he stood.
He reminded you of Rafe in so many ways, but nicer, and you wanted to laugh to yourself. So many times, you had imagined being alone with JJ, doing the most mundane things and just talking to him. You couldn’t even rejoice in this because of the circumstances, and you drank the rest of your water, looking around.
“I know it’s not what you’re used to on Figure 8, but you can sleep in my room.”
His words had you frowning at him, and you looked away, those final words from Rafe making more tears fall.
“I’m not some spoiled Kook princess!”
JJ seemed shocked by your outburst, and he raised his hands, mouth opening, but you continued.
“I’ve never been anything but nice to you and everyone else is perfectly fine with me, but every time I’ve tried to be your friend, you made it clear that you want no parts.”
“I didn’t-.”
“I know you think I’m this spoiled rich bitch who looks down on people from The Cut,” you said, standing now. “I know what you think of me.”
JJ shoved his hands into his pockets, preferring to let you finish.
“I long accepted it, but God do you really think I’d have the nerve to judge anything about you after what you did for me? You really think I’m that…terrible?”
As the silence stretched, it became clear to JJ that you wanted an actual answer. He at least had the decency to look shameful as he sighed.
“You’re right.”
You looked away.
“I was just trying to lighten the mood, but you’re right. That was unnecessary.”
“I’m a good person, JJ.”
He frowned at the way your voice cracked, and he stepped towards you.
“I know you are.”
“…but you treat me like I’m not.”
He looked like he wanted to say more but thought better of it.
“I’ll uh…I’ll take the couch,” was all he said, and you felt disappointed for some reason.
When it became clear that nothing else was going to be said, you made your way to his room. It smelled just like JJ, and for some reason, that made you cry again. You had thrown up everything in your stomach earlier, but when you thought about Rafe, you wanted to be sick all over again. You had been saved by the last person you ever expected, and you cried yourself to sleep in his bed.
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You heard someone gently calling your name, and you blinked.
The figure before you was blurry and familiar, and when the colors finally separated to paint a clear picture, you rubbed your eyes. Sarah stood in front of you with a deep frown, looking over you with a look you couldn’t place.
“I went by your house, and your mom said you hadn’t been by in a while.”
A while.
You wondered how many mothers would describe their daughter’s weeks long absence like that?
“Have you been here the whole time?”
You struggled to sit up, the alcohol in your system making for the perfect nap before Sarah woke you up. Sarah looked between you and JJ, the other blond leaning against his wall with his arms crossed over his chest. You supposed it was kind of a lie. You had been by your house to get some things, but seeing as you didn’t want to run into Rafe, you’d been hiding out here. Your mom just had no knowledge if it.
“Uh…yeah,” you sighed. “Things aren’t the best at home, so…”
You knew what Sarah was thinking as her nose scrunched. Why didn’t you crash at her place? Or Kie’s? Or even Pope’s? JJ’s indifferent attitude towards you was no secret, so for her to find you on his couch of all places was definitely odd.
“Wait, what?” Sarah knelt before you, worried. “What’s going on?”
“I don’t really want to talk about it.”
She blinked at that, glancing at JJ again.
“Are you sure…?”
The hurt in Sarah’s voice was evident, and you understood why. She was your best friend, and while she didn’t know what it was, it was clear to her that something was very wrong if you were sleeping on JJ’s couch. You slowly blinked, nodding.
At that, Sarah leaned in, looking at you more closely.
“Are you drunk? JJ is she drunk?”
“Sarah, I’m fine. I just had a few beers…”
It was more than a few.
Sarah looked like she wanted to say something else, but instead she left you, jerking her head at JJ as she went. He reluctantly followed, and with difficulty, you stood, moving closer to the door.
“She’s not okay. What’s going on?”
JJ was quiet for a while, and you worried that he’d tell her what you made him promise not to tell anyone.
“Home stuff. That’s all I know.”
“You’re lying,” she accused. “Even if it was just home stuff…Y/N’s never been much of a drinker. Never, and now she’s passed out drunk in the middle of the day?”
JJ sighed.
“Whatever’s wrong with her, that’s not going to help,” she hissed.
“I can’t make her do anything she doesn’t want to do,” he told her.
“Enabling bad coping mechanisms isn’t any better.”
Her voice was cold, and as the silence stretched, you knew that she had left on her bike.
You looked down as you thought about Sarah’s words, swallowing. The past few weeks were more of a blur than you wanted to admit, filled with more alcohol than you’d ever had in your lifetime. And JJ. Oddly enough, the blond had become something like a friend.
His dad was rarely home, something that both relieved and saddened you. He never pushed you to talk in detail about what happened, but sometimes you’d catch him throwing worried glances towards you. He talked to you more than he ever had, and part of you hated it because you knew it was only because he pitied you. On the other hand, the pathetic part of you didn’t care what the reason was.
“She’s mad at me,” you told him when he came back inside. “We tell each other everything…”
“She’s not-.”
“She is,” you slurred with a nod. “…but how can I tell her that her own brother tried to rape me?”
It was the first time you’d brought it up since that night, and JJ’s gaze was on you. You didn’t know if you just needed to cry after not doing so for weeks, or if it was the alcohol, but your eyes watered.
“Hey…” JJ moved closer, clearly seeing the emotion on your face. “You’re okay.”
You frowned, staring at the floor.
“He was my best friend,” you murmured to yourself. “…and when I didn’t like him back, he tried to rape me.”
JJ softly called your name, and you sniffed.
“…but I always knew he was an asshole. Why did I think I was so different?”
JJ was quiet for a moment before finally speaking.
“You thought he was your friend. That’s not your fault,” he told you.
“We grew up together. We literally grew up together, and did everything together,” you were rambling. “…and at the end of the day, I wasn’t his friend. I was just something else that belonged to him.”
You pressed your hands to the sides of your head, vision blurring and chest tightening.
“Why wasn’t it enough?”
JJ knelt before you now, trying to take your hands. He was calling your name again, but you ignored him, deep in your own head as insecurities you didn’t even realize you had started to surface.
“Maybe…maybe that’s all I’m good for.”
“Hey.”
“I’m not very smart, and I’m clearly a poor judge of character-.”
“Y/N,” JJ interrupted, moving to sit beside you.
“I’m a spoiled Kook who grew up with a silver spoon in her mouth, and I’m going to end up just like my mom…”
“Okay, stop it,” JJ took your face into his hands, a deep frown on his face.
“I am,” you sobbed. “That’s all I seem to be good for. To be on some asshole’s arm like a trophy, going to stuffy parties, and-.”
“Shut up,” JJ snapped, shaking you. “Rafe’s shitty, and just because he didn’t value you as a friend, it doesn’t mean he was right to.”
“…but…you didn’t value me as a friend either.”
JJ’s face fell at your words, and you shrugged.
“You barely liked me as a person,” you whispered.
JJ’s shoulders heaved, and he looked sheepish.
“I was judge-y…and you were a Kook.”
“I’m still a Kook,” you reminded him.
JJ chuckled.
“You’ve been slumming it with me for weeks,” he said. “I wouldn’t exactly call you a Kook anymore.”
That made you chuckle too, and JJ licked his lips.
“…and I was wrong for doing that,” he admitted, and you eyed him. “I always thought you wouldn’t stick around and go back to your side of the island for good.”
You played with your fingers.
“I don’t think I ever want to go back to my side of the island,” you told him.
You both knew that wasn’t possible, but you could dream. You felt JJ brush your face, wiping your tears away, and your heart skipped a beat.
“You should really tell someone what Rafe did. You should go to Shoupe.”
“Ward is the reason Shoupe has the job he does now,” you confessed, glancing up. “Nothing happens to guys like Rafe.”
“Y/N-.”
“They’ll just say I was drunk, or I lead him on or…because nothing sexual actually took place, what is there to prove?”
JJ looked sad for you, and you let out a bitter laugh.
“He gets to go on living his life while I’m stuck trying to heal mine.”
Your head fell to JJ’s shoulder, and you laughed again. He smelled so much like the ocean water to you, and as much as you hated Rafe for what he did, it had brought you closer to JJ, had made him your friend, something you had long given up on.
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For the first time in what felt like a while, you were actually sober.
And you were beyond grateful too.
JJ’s hand was on the back of your neck, holding you to him as he moved his lips against yours. His other hand was on your lower back, fingers brushing your skin as you sat in his lap. You used to dream about this, and just when you made peace with only ever being friends with JJ, thankful for even that, he’d said something that you thought you’d never hear.
“You’re too pretty to cry over assholes like Rafe.”
The words had shocked you, and the smile that he’d given you made your heart race. You hadn’t even meant to kiss him, your body taking on a mind of it’s own, but whatever worries you had melted away when he didn’t push you away.
“Are you sure?” he’d murmured against your lips.
You knew why he was asking, and to prove to him that you were okay, you wrapped your arms around his neck. Kissing JJ was exactly like what you thought it’d be. His lips were soft and sweet from his juul pen, and when you decided that you hated the way he was kissing you like you’d break, you pushed him towards the couch. His fingers kneaded into your skin, making you shudder, and he sighed into your mouth.
Your bliss was cut short when you both heard a noise outside, and it took you a moment to remember where you were. You were off of JJ and fixing your shirt just as Pope and John B. made themselves known, striding inside like they lived there.
“Sarah said you’d probably be here,” Pope commented, plopping down beside JJ. “I like killing two birds with one stone.”
“We’re chillin’ in the cat’s ass tonight,” John B said, lightly slapping JJ’s arm. “We rarely see both of you these days.”
Guilt ate at you, and you looked down. JJ was their friend first, and you were keeping him away because of your own bullshit. It felt so selfish once you were confronted with it, and you spoke up before JJ did.
“That’s my fault,” you laughed. “Stupid family drama, but yeah, I could use a night in a hot tub.”
You could feel JJ’s worried gaze on you, but you ignored it. Your life had to get back to normal at some point, and nothing seemed better to you than hanging out at the Chateau with your friends. Your real friends. You didn’t have a bathing suit with you, but you texted Kie because you knew she’d have an extra one.
“Are you sure about this?” JJ asked, sliding up beside you while Pope and John B. were talking.
“Yeah,” you said with a nod. “I can’t hide away from the rest of our friends forever.”
“You don’t have to force yourself,” he told you.
You knew that JJ was just worried, and you appreciated it.
“I promise. I’m okay.”
Your reassurance wasn’t in vain.
Being around the rest of your friends did make you feel better. They were filling you in on things you’d missed, Pope laughing as he recounted the first time he got high. You weren’t going to lie, you did hate that you missed that. You were perfectly okay…until Sarah brought up the one person you never wanted to talk about again.
“I swear to God, it’s like him and our dad are constantly at each other’s throats these days,” she said. “I mean, they regularly argue, but not like this.”
Your gaze was focused on the water, and you felt JJ’s fingers graze yours below the surface.
“Rafe is drinking more, partying more, and I’m afraid to think of how much money he’s wasted on coke.”
“Sounds like classic Rafe to me,” JJ mumbled, trying to dismiss the subject.
“Something’s definitely wrong with him,” she said, taking a sip of her drink. “I know you haven’t talked to him in a while, but if anyone would know, it’d be you.”
She was looking at you now, and all you could offer was a shrug.
“Rafe and I aren’t friends anymore, so I wouldn’t know anything about his life, right now.”
You said it so casually, and you ignored the way Sarah’s eyes widened, a frown on her face.
“What?” she said, a chorus of echoes going around the hot tub as everyone else had the same thought.
“You and Rafe not being friends is something that doesn’t make sense,” Kie said. “Although, I’m not going to pretend to be upset about it.”
She laughed, but Sarah didn’t join in.
“When did this happen, and why?”
You were beyond uncomfortable, and you didn’t really know what to say, but JJ spoke up for you.
“Who cares? Cutting Rafe off doesn’t sound like a big loss to me,” he mumbled.
Everyone else agreed, but Sarah was silent, looking between you and JJ with a small frown. Uncomfortable and wanting to let the subject go, you stood in the water.
“Does anyone else want another beer?”
Everyone raised their hands, albeit Sarah did lazily, and JJ offered to go with you.
His shoulder brushed yours as you both walked into the house. The air between you was tense for so many reasons, and you avoided his eye.
“She’ll let it go,” he promised you.
“Maybe…”
You grabbed the beers, and JJ grabbed a few from you, his fingers brushing against yours. You weren’t surprised to find his gaze on you when you glanced up, and you didn’t move away when he brushed his lips against the corner of your mouth.
Whatever this was between you and JJ was so new, and you didn’t know what it meant. You thought about JJ seeing you in this way almost since you first met, so you weren’t going to suggest stopping, but at the same time, so many factors were involved.
What if this became something that didn’t work out? How would it affect the friendship that had only just been formed? Not to mention what it could do for the entire group. Then there was the biggest problem of Rafe. Thoughts of him made you shudder, and you knew that if whatever was going on with you and JJ become public knowledge, your former best friend wouldn’t hesitate to let it be known how he felt about it.
“You okay?”
JJ pulled you from your thoughts, and you nodded at him.
“Just in my own head.”
His smile made you smile, and he briefly pressed the cold beer to your cheek.
“You should stop doing that so much,” he chuckled.
He guided you out with a hand on the small of your back, but when you neared the hot tub, it fell away, and you swallowed down a sigh of relief.
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You struggled to open your eyes, a splitting pain in your head that made you wince. Colors danced behind your eyes, and there was a roaring in your ears. The faint smell of smoke reached your nose, and you scrunched it, groaning to yourself as you struggled to lift your head. Your vision fully returned the same time your hearing did, and the sound of your name reached your ears.
You both heard and felt a door opening, and that was when you realized that you were in a car. Your forehead was resting on the steering wheel, and a hand slid in between them, gently pushing your head back. The voices around you were mixing together to the point where none of them were distinguishable. A hand was on your face, and lips were at your ear, calling your name.
“Get her out!”
The loud shrieking voice was so familiar, and as you blinked, you recognized it as Sarah.
“No, no, no, something might be broken.”
Pope.
A finger opened your eyes one at a time, and you groaned.
“Y/N, can you hear me? Does anything feel broken?”
You shook your head and winced at the action. Nothing felt broken, but something definitely felt sore.
“Okay,” the voice breathed. “Hang on.”
A hand unbuckled your seatbelt, and you had trouble sitting up as they pulled you out of the seat. As soon as your feet touched the ground, you crumbled, and you would’ve hit it completely if it weren’t for familiar arms. JJ’s worried face hovered above yours, blue eyes wide as he leaned you against the car.
“Get her keys out,” Kie told someone.
You reached up and touched your head, frowning at the wetness you felt.
“We need to call an ambulance or something,” Sarah shakily said.
“…so she can spend a night in jail for a DUI?” JJ wondered.
“We don’t have to say she was driving,” she argued. “She could have a concussion.”
“Shoupe’s not stupid,” John B. whispered. “…but someone does need to make sure she’s okay.”
You wanted to tell them to stop talking about you like you weren’t there, but you couldn’t get your lips to move. You couldn’t get your head to stay up, and it lolled, grazing JJ’s shoulder. While the other four argued amongst themselves, JJ lightly tapped your face.
“You have to stay awake,” he whispered. “Baby, you have to stay awake.”
You thought you said something, but it came out an incoherent mess.
“Your cousin!”
JJ paused before you felt him relax.
“Yeah, we can take her to Ricky,” he said, the relief in his voice evident.
JJ sat you down, and you finally kept your eyes open. You realized that you were at John B.’s house, and you turned your head to stare at your car against a tree. Your eyes watered, and past the alcohol buzzed brain, you remembered climbing into the car crying and panicked. A tear escaped just as JJ took your chin into his hand.
“What is wrong with you?” he demanded, the others none the wiser to this conversation as they were by Kie’s car by now. “You could’ve killed someone.”
You swallowed.
“You could’ve killed yourself.”
You didn’t remember ever seeing JJ so angry, and more tears fell.
“I’m sorry,” you mumbled.
His eyebrows rose.
“You’re so drunk you can barely walk, and you’re sorry? I thought you might’ve been dead.”
You blinked, looking past him.
Today had been a good day, surprise filling you at the desire to go home. It definitely wasn’t to see your parents, but to get some more things. Everything had been fine. Your parents hadn’t even been home, and it was so easy to get in and out without incident.
Then you’d walked outside and came face to face with a familiar truck.
You hadn’t even asked Rafe how he knew you were home. You didn’t want to know the answer. His apologies had fallen on deaf ears as you hurried to just get to your car.
“Stop and talk to me,” Rafe had screamed, grabbing your arm.
You had screamed back, shoving him away.
“Don’t you get that I want nothing to do with you? Leave me alone.”
“Your mom said you’ve barely been home in months,” he sneered as you put your stuff in your car. “Down on The Cut?”
“That is none of your business,” you threw over your shoulder.
“Are you with JJ, now? Hmm?”
You ignored him, getting into your car, but Rafe had prevented you from closing your door. You had yanked on it with tearful eyes, and Rafe glared at you.
“The only reason I’m not dragging you into my truck, right now is because of all your lovely neighbors,” he had told you, leaning in. “…but do not think for one second that you’re done with me.”
He had slammed your door closed for you, almost taking your hand off, and you sat in the car when he drove away. You couldn’t even remember how long you had sat in your car, crying and hating him for making you feel so helpless and scared once again.
You had consumed so much from your dad’s bar that you didn’t even remember getting behind the wheel. Let alone driving to The Cut.
After Ricky had looked you over and decided that you only had a small concussion, you had leaned against JJ in the back of Kie’s car. He hadn’t said much to you since he chewed you out, and you supposed that you couldn’t blame him. Sarah and Pope had helped you inside, keeping your body upright and guiding you.
When Sarah settled you down on John B.’s bed, she sighed.
“What’s going on with you?” she quietly wondered.
“Nothing,” you lied with a shrug. “I just had too much to drink.”
She was frowning, and you spoke again.
“Where’s JJ?”
Sarah’s face fell, and she bit her lip.
“You know that you can talk to me too…”
Her voice was quiet, and you swallowed, looking towards the ceiling.
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
You felt bad, but you didn’t think you’d ever be able to tell her what Rafe did. He was her brother, after all, and even though their relationship was rocky, she still loved him. He still meant something to her, and you didn’t know if you could muster the courage to be the one to break that.
Sarah stared at you for a while before nodding. She squeezed your arm before walking out. You could hear her talking to JJ, and when he walked in, your eyes were apologetic. By the look on his face, he was still mad at you, but he still came to sit beside you.
“I ran into Rafe when I went home,” you told him.
His entire visage shifted, and he shuffled closer, hand resting on your forehead.
“What?” he breathed.
“He…he’s never going to leave me alone, and… I can’t hide out here forever,” you whispered.
JJ leaned over you, stroking your face. He looked angry enough for the both of you, and more tears fell.
“Did he touch you?”
Your silence was answer enough, and you watched JJ’s jaw clench.
“I hate him,” you cried, and JJ pulled your head into his lap. “I hate him so much.”
JJ’s fingers danced over your face, and your eyes rested on the necklace around his neck, fighting to stay awake.
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“I told my mom that I’ve been staying at Kie’s,” you told him, smiling into the kiss.
Your legs were wrapped around him, chest arching up into his. His skin was warm against yours, your shirts tossed somewhere you didn’t even care to remember. Months of stolen kisses and hidden moments had finally led to the inevitable, and you were eager to feel him inside of you.
“I doubt she believes you.”
You pulled back, frowning at him, and there was a small smirk on his pink lips.
“First of all, you’re the worst liar,” JJ laughed. “…and…I’m pretty sure she hears me sneaking in your window.”
You pressed your lips together. JJ reached up to play with the necklace around your neck, brushing over the shark tooth.
“She definitely knows its me you come to see.”
With your life getting somewhat back to normal, JJ didn’t like you being on Figure 8 without him much. He spent more days in your room than you’d care to admit, and the time you used to spend getting drunk were spent hanging out with JJ. If you weren’t talking then you were helping him work on his bike or he was pressing the most delicate kisses over your face.
At some point, it became clear between the both of you that this wasn’t some casual fling. Your feelings for him had never been casual to begin with, but you’d been prepared to get any part of him that you could. You had accepted that this whole thing might not amount to anything, and as much as it hurt to think about, it was better than not having JJ, at all.
Somewhere along the way though, JJ stopped acting like a friend who you’d occasionally kiss sometimes and more like a boyfriend. He started sleeping in his bed with you instead of on the couch. He’d stand behind you, arms around you as you attempted to make something to eat. Sometimes you’d just catch him staring at you, not saying anything at all, and when you’d ask him what was wrong, he’d just shake his head.
If you had any doubt before, it was gone the day he took off his black shark tooth necklace and put it on you instead.
“You’re always staring at it,” he’d told you when you asked why. “So, I want you to have it instead.”
“Thanks,” you had murmured, unsure of what else to say as you touched it. “…but you don’t have to. It’s yours. You’re always wearing it, so it means a lot and-.”
“…and you mean a lot to me.”
You swallowed the rest of your words at that, eyes widening.
“And I want you to wear it.”
He hadn’t said it in plain words then, but it was clear between you both what you were to him. Even if no one else knew.
As he kissed along your throat, you thought about just being open about your relationship. You knew your friends would support you both, and it would make everything so much easier. No more sneaking around, no more lies, and no more fear of being found out. However, you were a coward.
You tried to call it anything but what it was, but it was the truth.
Rafe terrified you beyond belief, and he was so unhinged that you didn’t know what he’d do if he found out you and JJ were dating. Not to mention, your mom’s disapproval was always enough to make you shrink in on yourself. Your parents would be furious, and despite the fact that you were eighteen, you just didn’t have what it took to stand up to her.
Goosebumps erupted over your flesh as JJ’s fingers ghosted over you, and you sighed when he nipped at your skin. You’d been too drunk to even remember your first time, and it was something you always regretted, but was relieved about in the same breath. Not remembering made it easier to pretend like JJ was your first. You would rather it had been him anyway.
“JJ.”
He hummed, climbing back up your body. He kissed you, touching his lips to your chin as you spoke.
“I told you that I wasn’t a virgin…”
His eyes met yours, and his expression softened.
“If you are, it’s okay. You didn’t have to-.”
“I didn’t lie,” you told him. “…but I don’t really remember it.”
He looked worried, now.
“It was with some Kook, and we were both really drunk,” you admitted. “Sometimes I wish that I had waited, but sometimes I’m glad that I can’t really remember.”
JJ touched your face, a comforting smile on his lips.
“Well…I’ll make sure you remember this time.”
You returned his smile, kissing him.
Sex with JJ was fun. It wasn’t that you thought you wouldn’t enjoy it, but you didn’t expect it to be so fun. Sometimes you’d find yourself laughing at the way his fingers danced over your sides, but then you’d immediately whimper at the feel of him thrusting into you. He held you so tight that it was a wonder you didn’t break, and he loved to watch you squirm, thumb brushing over you while stretching you out.
His breathing was heavy in your ear, blond hair brushing your skin, and he held you against him. Your legs were wrapped around his waist, ankles hooked behind his back, and your nails scraped along his sheets. You both had just come back from a swim, and the salt of the ocean rested on his skin whenever you tasted him.
Time didn’t mean anything to either of you, finding yourself in his lap and pushing yourself down onto him. He kept his lips at your throat, kissing you and trailing his hands over your back. You were so hot, but you didn’t even care, just wanting to be as close to him as possible. The shark tooth was cool against your skin, and you twisted your hand into JJ’s fair locks.
When you came around him for a second time, your face was buried into the crook of his neck. You shook in his arms, holding onto him tight as you told him how much you loved him. JJ shuddered in your arms at the sound, pulling you into a kiss as he told you the same.
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You were startled by a tap on your window, whipping around and holding your towel to you tight. You visibly relaxed when you faced JJ, and you hurried to slide your window up, helping him inside. As you did, something caught your attention, and your throat went dry at the sight of the ugly bruising on his arm.
“JJ…”
Your voice was small, and JJ’s gaze followed yours before he casually waved you off. He pulled you into a kiss before you could say anything else, your face in his hands. When he pulled away, he brushed past you, and you worriedly eyed him.
“I had to see you,” he told you.
His voice sounded off, and you slowly approached him.
“You know you can come by and see me anytime.”
He nodded, sitting on your bed. You both were quiet for a while, you watching him and JJ watching his feet.
“My dad found some of your clothes,” he finally admitted. “He knows you’ve been staying over a lot.”
You knew all about JJ’s dad, and you had a sinking feeling in your stomach at his words.
“Was he mad?”
Your boyfriend chuckled to himself, and it lacked humor.
“You could say that.”
Your chest heaved a bit, and you swallowed before finally kneeling before him.
“Let me see,” you said, reaching for his shirt.
“Y/N, no, it’s fine,” he argued, stopping you.
Your eyes met his, and yours were tearful. His were pleading.
“Why won’t you let me see?”
JJ sighed, taking your hands into his.
“…because I don’t want you to see that.”
Your heart broke, and as much as you wanted to fight him on it, you also wanted to respect his decision.
“You can stay here,” you said, changing the subject as you stood. “You have some things here anyway.”
You went to one of your drawers, pulling out a t-shirt he’d left over. You looked around, certain that there were some boxer shorts too.
“You should take a shower,” you told him, handing him his clothes.
He quietly took them, but before you could step away, he wrapped his arms around you, resting his head against your stomach. He was so quiet, and you ran your fingers through his hair.
“Come with me?” he mumbled.
You were literally still in your towel from your own shower, but you knew that he didn’t just want you in there with him. He needed you at his side, right now. You pulled him to his feet, walking him to your bathroom. You made sure that your bedroom door was locked before finally joining him in the shower.
When he faced you, you paused, sharply inhaling at the sight of fresh bruises on his torso. Your mouth parted, and your eyes watered, and JJ was the one trying to comfort you.
“I’m okay,” he reassured you. “Nothing I haven’t delt with before.”
“That doesn’t make it okay,” you choked out.
You had never had the urge to kill before, the closest thing being Rafe, but in this moment, you were sure you could dump JJ’s dad’s body in the ocean and not even blink. JJ pressed his lips to yours, and you weakly kissed him back.
You were sure that JJ’s favorite thing to do with you was shower together. He’d drunkenly told you once that he thought it was more intimate than sex. Then you had laughed at JJ saying the word ‘intimate’. He liked cleaning you and rubbing soap into your skin and drying you off like a cat afterwards. As you gently brushed soap over his bruised skin, you couldn’t pull your eyes away.
Before he could stop you, you leaned in and pressed your lips to the bruises. JJ flinched, but when you started to pull away, afraid that you had hurt him, he stopped you. You looked up, smiling at him as he touched your hair. When you were both done, JJ grabbed a towel that was big enough to be wrapped around both of you, giggling into his skin as he shuffled you both into your room.
You pulled on one of your old shirts, stopping him before he could do the same.
“I should put something on that,” you told him.
JJ quietly protested, but you ignored him. The smile he gave you was sweet, and he rolled his eyes, taking a deep breath and only wincing a bit when you rubbed some cream into his skin.
“I’ll kill him if you ask me to,” you murmured, glancing up at him.
“I would never ask you to,” he replied. “Just like I know you’d never ask me to kill Rafe.”
You pursed your lips at that, loathed to admit it. When JJ put his shirt on, you climbed into bed with him, turning off your lamp. You were cautious about laying on him, opting to face him instead. You always felt so much safer when JJ was around, paranoid that with him absent, Rafe would just climb through your window one night. You had no doubt that he would if he ever found out about you and JJ.
As if he read your mind, JJ finally spoke in the darkness.
“When are we going to tell everyone?”
It was a topic that had been brought up before, and it made your chest ache every time. JJ wanted to tell the world that you were his, and while you definitely wanted the same, he didn’t know that Rafe had threatened him and whatever relationship you had with him. You weren’t strong enough to stand up to your former best friend.
Nor your parents.
You knew they wouldn’t approve of JJ, and until you grew the balls to tell your mom to go fuck herself, you didn’t see the point in putting JJ through that.
“JJ…we’ve talked about that.”
He knew about some of your concerns coupled with a few lies.
“They won’t care,” he reassured you.
“I know they won’t,” you told him, referring to your friends. “…but I’m just really scared about making things weird.”
“Kie and Pope are dating.”
“…but we all saw that coming from a mile away. A year ago, everyone was convinced that you hated me.”
JJ chuckled at that, but it was the truth. Even John B. had commented on how JJ hadn’t quite taken to you, and you had never imagined a day where JJ would actually be your friend, let alone your boyfriend. JJ was a great boyfriend, and you didn’t want to lose him. Whether that be through your own inability to stand up to your parents…or Rafe.
“I’m happy with how things are, right now.”
It wasn’t the whole truth, and on some level, you were sure that JJ sensed that.
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Your chest was heavy as you trekked across the beach, your surfboard under your arm. The wind was picking up around you, but you paid it no mind, too focused on JJ and your last conversation with him. Your vision was blurry from your tears, and seeing as JJ made it clear he didn’t want to talk to you, you took it upon yourself to get your mind off of it.
It wasn’t like you had anyone to blame but yourself.
JJ was perfectly reasonable in asking to tell everyone about you two…and he was just as reasonable in not putting faith into your excuses.
“If you care about me as much as you say you do, then you’d believe that nothing about us could make anything weird with the group.”
It hurt to hear him say that, but he wasn’t wrong.
“You’re right,” you had told him. “You are, but…that’s not the only reason I’m not ready yet.”
Your parents had left on a cruise only a day ago, and you should’ve known that something was up when JJ didn’t even want to come inside, preferring to talk on your steps.
“What? Is it Rafe?”
You didn’t respond, and he continued.
“Did he say something else to you? Is he threatening you?” he demanded, and you could tell by the look on his face that if you confirmed that, he wouldn’t hesitate to track the asshole down.
You wanted both you and JJ to stay as far away from Rafe as possible. You didn’t want to give him a reason to get into another fight with your former friend.
“No,” you lied. “I-.”
“Then what?”
You pressed your lips together.
“Is it your parents?”
“JJ…”
“Are you ashamed of me?”
The question took you by surprise, and you blinked.
“What? No!”
“Are you sure that’s not it?”
“Why would you even think that?”
Now you found yourself getting more angry than sad, hurt that JJ would even think that of you. He spread his arms out, expectantly looking at you.
“What else am I supposed to think? Seeing each other in secret was fun at first when we didn’t even know what this was yet, but I love you, and you don’t even wanna tell our friends about us.”
You didn’t want it getting back to Rafe.
“I just need more time,” you weakly said, and JJ frowned.
“It’s been months…almost a year,” he quietly argued.
“I know that, but-.”
“But what? I have a girlfriend that I can even act like a boyfriend with in public,” he said more to himself.
The chuckle he let out lacked humor, and you stepped closer to him.
“Was I wrong about you?”
Your heart dropped.
“I thought you were one of us,” he said. “…and I thought you thought that too, but maybe you still see yourself as that Kook princess who really does belong on this side of the island with a boyfriend that her parents will approve of.”
You didn’t know how to respond to that, and you looked away, blinking back tears.
“Is that what you think of me?”
Your eyes had met his again, and you couldn’t tell what JJ was really thinking.
“I don’t know what to think, and you’re giving me nothing to go on, right now. Nada.”
“That’s not true…”
“Then what’s stopping you? Why am I standing here and begging my girlfriend to not sneak around with me anymore?”
When you didn’t answer, JJ shook his head, rolling his eyes. He shoved his hands into his pocket, and you walked towards him as he back up.
“When you are ready to tell people about us, whenever that is, let me know.”
“JJ,” you sighed, tilting your head, but he ignored you.
“Until then…”
Your face fell when he turned his back on you, and you followed him, calling his name. He didn’t turn around once, and with Rafe in the back of your mind, you knew you couldn’t give him the answer he wanted, right now. You watched JJ walk away, and as much as you wanted to force him to stay, his hurt had been obvious. Deciding to give him time to cool off, and give yourself time to really think about things, you had forced yourself to go back inside.
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lavendertales · 2 years
Text
Fire on fire—Javier Peña x f!reader**
Chapter 17 of the Unholy series
summary: you and Javier spend your first full night together. A new chapter waits for you both in Cali.
word count: 4.8k
WARNINGS: talk of grief in the beginning. Blindfolds, lingerie, face sitting, dry humping, doggy (implied rough sex), squirting, cum play.
AGELESS/EMPTY BLOGS & MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED!
A/N: last chapter, lovebugs! I hope you had as much fun reading this as I had sharing it with you all. Thank you so much for all the love and support💕 P.S: here is the inspo for the lingerie😌and keep an eye out for the extra one-shot post-Colombia that’s gonna come real soon!
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gif: @vera-kozhemiakina 
series masterlist | AO3 
There’s an unusual heat around you this morning. Granted, the atmosphere in Colombia is always this way, but you wake up to the sound of rain tapping lightly against your window, wrapped in your beloved blanket and fingers intertwined with yours.
It’s the second time Javier has spent the night, only now there is so much more to be felt between you. Grief, anger, tension, love, everything that has been boiling for the past fifteen years.
You’re nose to nose with him, having the perfect opportunity to study every little detail about him. There’s something so soothing about watching him finally get proper rest; you can see his long eyelashes, his stubbly cheek, and plush lips that can be both the sweetest and sinful touch you have ever felt on your skin. The fact that he’s holding your hand in his sleep makes the moment all the more endearing, like a perfect little gesture that’s a secret between the two of you.
“Staring is creepy, you know.”
God, his voice is huskier in the morning and you begin to wonder how come you’ve spent this long without moments like these.
“I’ve heard it can be romantic,” you retort, smiling as he’s slowly waking up.
You caress his hand, and Javier fully opens his eyes—his brown, warm eyes that don’t cease the look of admiration for you.
“How would you feel if you’d wake up to me staring at you?” he asks.
You shrug. “Pretty good. You look cute when you’re needy.”
Javier makes a mocking sound, some disapproval mixed with admiration, and your smile widens.
“You mumble in your sleep,” you say out of the blue. “Did you know that?”
Javier seems surprised by your statement, but he doesn’t question it. Instead, he gazes fondly at you, awakening more and more with each passing second.
“How would I know that?” he asks.
“I don’t know. I figured one of your lady friends noticed at some point in time.”
The sound that leaves Javier’s mouth has a hint of mockery, though not explicitly so. You reckon it is one of his default noises when people mention his personal life or habits, so you don’t bother with it. Perhaps you’re not the most qualified person to mention this at all.
Or perhaps you are.
“They never stayed long enough for that,” he casually mentions, shifting in bed so that he’s staring at the ceiling, seemingly contemplating everything.
“I feel so special,” you gush, hoping to catch a glimpse of his eyes.
But Javier doesn’t move.
He keeps staring at the ceiling, barely blinking, and you figure something’s the matter. Not that he’s the most communicative person in the world—particularly with you—but you have enough of that God complex to actually believe he might open up to you in some way, especially now, given how yesterday went.
“What do I mumble about?” Javier asks absentmindedly.
“You keep saying ‘I’m sorry’ a lot. Not sure to whom or for what. Some things in Spanish too, about forgiveness, I think.”
Bits and pieces return to Javier’s mind, crystal clear now. The faces he sees are ghosts of his past, as well as his present, always lingering in the dark, haunting and tormenting, laughing at him on occasion.
He finally turns towards you, and you see it: somewhat of a sadness darkens his eyes, otherwise emptied of the happiness he momentarily felt last night with you.
“My mom,” he replies after a while. “The first person I apologize to is my mom. Always. I apologize to her for… not being able to be there more for her. She died when I was fifteen.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“She was sick for a long time and I couldn’t do much of anything. Then I apologize to Loraine. My ex-fiancé. I met her after college. I proposed for all the wrong reasons. We weren’t—“
“Did you love her?”
Javier doesn’t need to ponder over that. Though he cannot help the embarrassment that comes with that story.
“I thought I did,” he tells you with honesty. “I did care for her, but it wasn’t true love. She lied to me about being pregnant, I lied to her about being in love… match made in hell.”
You chuckle softly, your head resting on his bare shoulder as you let him speak freely. It’s probably the first time in God knows how long that he gets the chance to let it all out, raw and real, in a place that keeps him safe.
“Then I apologize to all the innocent lives I couldn’t save since I arrived in Colombia. All the children, the mothers and fathers I failed. And, at the end, I apologize to you.”
“To me?”
Javier grunts a soft mhm that resembles a purr, and you feel your body tauter, warmer.
“Why do you apologize to me?” you ask.
He turns to look at you, meeting your eyes with a remorseful glare, and you hold your breath.
“For not being honest with you in the first place. I could’ve spared us both a lot of pain and anger if I’d just… told you back in college how I felt. If I would’ve been open.”
“You’re not the only one carrying the fault,” you try to coax him. “I wasn’t the most open person in the world either.”
“Match made in hell.”
You chuckle more audibly this time around, with Javier mimicking the sound as well.
“Then how come this works?” you retort.
He can’t argue against that. There is no answer to that. What he does know is that, whatever the trouble or the question, you are the answer.
“We’re made of the same clay,” you continue. “We… think the same, we act the same and we do the same.”
“A little troubling how similar we are.”
“Shockingly, I agree.”
But there’s something else Javier wants to ask, and he’s hesitant to do so. He doesn’t want to get his hopes up after last night, nor live under the impression that spending the night together might change your professional feelings.
He coos your name, looking at you as if he’s desperately trying to memorize every detail of your face.
“I gotta leave for Cali tomorrow.”
His voice is small, afraid to go on, and you can tell he’s forcing himself to go on as brave as he did till then.
“I know.”
“Steve and Sofia are coming, too. They’ll be part of the team. They put me in charge, not really sure why—“
“Javi.”
“—but they want me and someone else to supervise the entire Cali operation. I nominated you.”
“Javi.”
He finally hears you, sees your pleading face, begging him to listen to reason and end his babbling. It’s an unusual habit for him, talking this much, but you always managed to bring that out of him, one way or the other.
“If you want to know if I’m going or not, just ask me, like a normal person,” you almost giggle.
“I meant every single thing I said in that letter. Including the part where I said I want you to be okay, no matter where you are or who you are with. If you don’t want to, I understand it.”
“I do want to. I will be joining the team in Cali.”
You see the relief on Javier’s face, and you almost laugh fondly at his stubbornness to conceal it through a rugged, yet forced expression.
“You are?”
“Mhm. I’ve made a commitment to the DEA, to the case… of course I’m sticking around and seeing this through.”
Javier exhales, after what feels like an eternity, and simply looks you over.
“I’m flattered you thought to nominate me as your coworker,” you smile. “I would’ve thought you’d ask Steve first.”
“He was the backup in case you said no. Just don’t tell him I said that.”
“God, you’re so stubborn.”
“Said the pot to the kettle.”
You peck his lips, getting lost in his scent and his taste once more. Soon, your bodies get entangled, skin pressed against skin. Javier’s lips leave a wet trail as they suck on a particular spot on your neck, and you hum softly.
“I’m so much better than you at this,” he says, keeping up his sweet torment.
You smile, your hand grazing his chest and stomach in its devilish pursuit. Javier stops, gasping when your hand fists his cock, as slowly as humanly possible. You reach up for his lips while you keep that same pace, beyond satisfied with the result.
“You’re kidding, right?” you joke. “I’m actually crushing you at this.”
“Maybe—don’t use the word ‘crushing’ when you’re—hmm—doing this.”
You giggle against his lips, the moment making Javier ticklish and causing him to laugh alongside you. But then, his smile fades as your face darkens, haunted by something.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, pulling away.
You simmer in the bizarre sensation for a little while, trying to pinpoint what the exact issue is. And then, you come to the realization.
“I’m fine,” you say, still frowning at the sudden change of pace. “It’s just… I don’t know why, but Escobar popped into my head.”
“Trying not to take that as an insult.”
You chuckle, watching him with a guilty figure. “He knew me. When I went after him, he recognized me by my birthmark, he knew my middle name—“
“Carina.”
You look at him, stunned that he knows that piece of information that truthfully, you don’t recall confessing to him.
“Economics professor, Mr. James, always insisted to call us all by our full names. I know you really hated to be called Carina. Especially by me.”
“Which is why you kept doing it in front of others.”
“Guilty as charged.”
“I don’t know why this happened now. I’m sorry. I mean he’s dead, he doesn’t…”
Javier rolls over to the side, taking your hand in his and stroking it gently. “Don’t have to apologize for anything that shithead did or said. You can be angry and upset about it.”
You respond to his touch, smiling fondly at him.
“Don’t ever say you’re not a good man,” you tell him.
“You’re going soft, cariño.”
“In your dreams, Peña.”
You press a chaste kiss to his lips, then get out of bed, leaving Javier behind to watch your naked figure roam around the room.
“Where are you going?” he asks, almost saddened by your departure.
“I gotta head down to the embassy, confirm my transfer for tomorrow. You can either stay here or come along with me.”
Javier grunts, exhaling along with it, and he smirks your way. Hate as you might to admit it, you were a sucker for this sassy side of him.
“You’re putting me in an impossible situation here,” he huffs.
“How come?”
“Cause if I stay here, I get to see you walk around with nothing on, but if I go with you… well, we could make out in the evidence room.”
You chuckle, shaking your head at him. You bounce back to the bed, pressing another kiss on his lips. His hands sneak around you, giving your ass a good squeeze, and you give him an unimpressed glare.
“Could you go there and bounce back here again?” Javier asks, earning another chuckle from your side, paired with a playful push of his arm.
“You’re so filthy,” you coo.
“Said the pot to the kettle.”
You pull away abruptly, leaving Javier hanging low and dry.
“I’m going to the embassy,” you insist, starting to get dressed. “You can stay here playing with yourself or you can join me and make a good impression.”
“Leaning towards the first one. How would I make a good impression there?”
“As the lead man for the Cali operation, showing up at the office to ensure the smooth transaction of the other lead man, on a Sunday, no less, would look good for you.”
Javier huffs, finally getting out of bed and searching for his clothes. “Alright, let’s get this over with.”
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As it turned out, no one was happier about your return to the office than Claudia Messina. She even gave you a hug, which was a rare sight and treat for any agent at the embassy, repeatedly making sure that you were okay and that you were, in fact, there to sign as the co-lead in the Cali operation.
Javier stood by your side the whole time, proudly nodding to confirm Claudia’s questions while also ignoring her side-eyeing him whenever you spoke. He was fairly certain by now that she knew you and he had something going on behind closed doors, but then again, she needn’t know more than the absolutely necessary information.
After you signed the papers and confirmed your transfer to Cali early on tomorrow, Javier invited you for lunch, thus marking your first official outing as a couple and your very first date. You enjoyed a rather quiet meal together, which was a welcome change from the usually fast-paced, loud and deadly environment you learned to navigate your daily tasks through.
“I’m glad you’re joining the team,” Javier tells you as he’s parking the car in front of your building.
His soft voice, a little huskier than usual, pairs devastatingly nicely with the rain that’s pouring outside. The raindrops tap fast and cruel on the windows, cooling down the city, yet it has the exact opposite on you.
“I know,” you retort coyly. “What would you do without me?”
Javier smiles and huffs. “Probably be more productive.”
“More productive, really? Weren’t you the one being needy this morning?”
“Weren’t you the one who threw herself at me two days ago?”
“Oh, you wanna play this game?”
“I do.”
“Do you? Cause may I remind you, you were the one getting a hard-on in the conference room while staring me down.”
Javier smiles, walking you to the door and shielding you from the rain at the same time.
“No comeback?” you huff, opening the door. “You’re really going soft on me, Peña.”
“On the contrary.”
You notice his wicked smile and it triggers one of your own.
“What do you feel like doing?” you ask.
“It’s fuckin’ blazing outside and we’re free till tomorrow morning. What to do, what to do…”
He approaches you, gently grabbing the hem of your shirt and giving you a lustful look.
“I might have something in mind,” you say, brazen and zealous.
Fire spreads rapidly throughout your veins, your skin burning at the mere sight of Javier, and the simple thought of what you’d like to do getting you wetter than you would’ve thought.
“Yeah?” Javier grins. “Like what?”
“Do you trust me?”
“With my life.”
“Then make yourself comfortable and I’ll be right back.”
You steal a kiss from him, and rush to the bathroom, making sure the door is locked behind you. You actually forgot about the bold fashion statement you’re currently slipping into, with everything that’s been going on. You’re not even sure as to why you’ve bought them in the first place, but the timing couldn’t have been better now.
You check yourself in the mirror, slowly twirling and making sure everything is in place. The black straps of the fabric wrap your body in a taut way that’s giving you a big confidence boost. Inhaling deeply, you smile to yourself and grab the tie that’s been gathering dust on your bathroom drawer.
When you re-enter the bedroom, leaning seductively against the doorframe, you see Javier sitting on the edge, hands joined in between his legs and staring down. He senses your presence and looks up, eyes wide and pupils fully blown out.
“Fuck me,” he mutters, eyeing you up and down.
“That’s the plan. I take it you like it?”
Javier huffs, the sound mocking you and your silly little question, and for once you don’t take offense at it. You know the overall look—the black lace underwear and its garter belt—is sultry and inviting in every way anyone can think of. The only thing missing from Javier’s facial expression is drool.
You inch closer to him, tantalizingly slow, revealing the tie in your hand. You reach around his broad shoulders to remove his leather jacket. Javier watches you intently, curious as to where is your brilliant, filthy mind headed but at the same time, all too eager to process your latent moves. So he reaches to unbutton his shirt, but you are quick to grab his hands, thus putting an end to his actions. Without a word, you guide him further up the bed, and when he’s leaning against the pillows, still in his shirt and jeans, you open the bedside drawer to reveal some more fabrics.
It’s only when you’re tying his hands around the headboard’s ends that Javier raises his brows and starts to get a sense as to where the afternoon is headed.
“Are you serious?” Javier asks, though not making an effort to free himself from the constraints.
“Do I look like I’m not?”
“What you look is gorgeous. And fuckable.”
“And you look like you’re about to get needy, which I happen to enjoy.”
Securing him to the bed, you move on to his face, pressing a languid kiss over his lips before tying the tie around his eyes.
“Oh, come on,” Javier whines.
You have to admit, the sight of a restrained Javier to your bed stirs powerful emotions inside of you. A smile breaks from the corners of your lips as you join him on the bed, your legs on either sides of his clothed thigh. You bite on your lower lip as you press your core onto him, arms on his shoulders for support. Before you can even realize it’s happening, you’re grinding on his lap, while Javier is completely unable to response.
“This what you had in mind for the rest of the day?” Javier asks in an unusually raspy voice. “Use me as leverage to make yourself cum?”
“A little,” you smile in utter delight.
The sensation of rubbing your barely clothed pussy on his thigh, the raw electricity of it, is causing your head to spin.
“That why you’re dressed like this? To make me feel worse?”
“Not worse,” you coo while continuously grinding on him. “Just a little riled up.”
“A little? We’ll see about that.”
You smile and grind faster, needier; Javier clenches his fists, anger building fast within. Sheer anger at being unable to see your gorgeous figure desperately fuck yourself on him, using his body as a propeller for your own pleasure. And then he comes to realize that that’s been your plan all along.
Devilish and effective. Just like you.
He loves this, too; the way you’re using his body as leverage to reach that pinnacle of desire and ecstasy, making him squirm and nearly beg for release himself. He feels his cock throbbing in his jeans, pulsing with immense need with each roll of your hips against his jeans, yet he knows that soon he’ll get to feel you properly.
He hears your breaths get ragged, soft moans cooed in between, and he smiles. He can picture your beautiful figure fucking yourself on his thigh and getting warmer and wetter with each passing second, and the mere thought could easily make him come in his pants like some lousy, horny teenager.
Well, maybe he is that way with you.
“Fuck,” you mutter, and Javier smiles.
“That feel good, cariño?”
“Yes—“
You know that if you keep going down this treacherous path, you’ll eventually come, messily and speedy, and you don’t want it to happen this way.
Besides, this is simply a test of strength and self-control. For both of you.
Your hips no longer rut against his thigh; instead, you cup his cheeks and kiss him, hungrily, like you haven’t felt the touch of his lips for the longest time.
“Cariño?”
“Hmm?”
“Sit on my face.”
Bewildered, you stare at his immobilized figure, contemplating, craving. You haven’t really done this before and it’s stirring all kinds of emotions inside of you.
“Uh—are you sure?” you check.
“Did I stutter?”
“No, but I just wanna make sure—“
“Sit. On my face. Now.”
He doesn’t bother asking you to untie him, nor does he squirm or try to break free. No; he simply waits, breaths deep and as hungry as the body they’re being freed from.
“Panties to the side. And sit,” Javier enunciates, as if reading your mind regarding your struggle about the lingerie.
You follow through, nearly embarrassingly wet by this point. You notice the erection strangled in his jeans, and you can’t help but admire his self-control.
Both legs on either sides of his face, you lower yourself onto him. That first brush of his stubble and mustache against your folds is thrilling, his tongue lapping diligently to collect every ounce of arousal you’re capable of giving him sensational. It’s also mighty impressive how he’s able to provide you with so much pleasure already, even with his hands tied. Between moments of ecstasy, you remark Javier’s clenched fists, tugging at the restraints. You know that he craves to mold your skin between his fingers, to grope you till he leaves bruises.
“Javi—fuck—“
He can’t say a damn thing, not with his mouth full of your soaked pussy. You start to rub yourself all over his face, feeling the buildup in your belly, ready to be detonated. Javier grunts, the vibrations an additional aid towards your impending orgasm. Your mind gets foggy, your breaths shallow and your chest tight; and then you feel it throughout your entire body.
“Fuck, right there—oh God—“
You finally come, your body seizing entirely on Javier’s face as your orgasm knocks all air out of your lungs. You feel a hand tightly gripping your right ass cheek, and you come to your senses enough to realize that his left hand broke free from the headboard. Shit, that’s a determined man, you think.
You look down, seeing Javier licking his lips. “Good girl,” he praises.
Blood rushes to your face, your cheeks now appearing sun-kissed, as you climb down, settling on his lap. His free hand is now on your back, gently resting there, waiting for you to make your next move. You remove the blindfold, and Javier blinks several times in a row, taking in your gorgeous attire, almost unable to believe that this is real and that he gets to have you this way.
His other hand is now free as well, and they both move to hold your waist, not daring to move. He stares you down, and you know he’s gonna take his revenge for what you did.
That’s exactly what you were counting on.
“My turn now,” Javier mutters.
He rolls you on the bed, flat on your tummy and ass up. He bites his lips, quickly disposing of his clothes. When he wraps his hand around his aching cock, he grunts as if in pain. He gives himself a few strokes, stopping abruptly the second he realizes how sensitive he truly is and that he’d probably come in a matter of seconds if he keeps doing this.
“Can I fuck you my way?” he asks.
And his question comes so kindly and sweetly that you nearly tremble.
“Yes,” you breathe.
“On all fours then.”
You obey, sitting in position. His hand grabs your hip, pulling you closer, and you suck in a breath. The anticipation is killing you, and you know that no matter how hard you try to tell yourself that you’re prepared for what’s to come, it won’t be true.
Cock in his hand and hand on your waist, Javier thrusts inside you in one languid motion. You instantly moan, the feeling of having him so thick and eager inside of you utterly maddening. He starts to fuck you with fervor, wasting no time. He’s fucking you like he only has five minutes to spare, so much so that you can barely breathe. You try to reach around to touch him somehow, in some way, but he swiftly grabs both your arms and keeps them locked together, snapping his hips faster into you. He’s mesmerized by the way his cock disappears in and out of you, the way your ass bounces against the coarse hair at the base of his cock, and the sounds you make… Jesus fucking Christ, this is the best sight he’s ever seen.
Your face buried in the mattress, hair falling down your face and your cunt at Javier’s mercy, no sounds other than some groans and moans leave your throat. It’s pretty impressive that for a man who ran on two hours of sleep, cigarettes and whiskey for the longest time, he snaps his hips into you so fast you’re nearly seeing stars. He can’t get enough of you, the way the lingerie is strapped to your body, it’s all giving him a fever.
“Fuck, you’re so—beautiful,” he grunts. “S-So good.”
“Javi, I n-need—“
“Hm? What was that?”
“I need to cum, please—“
“So do it.”
You’d reach around to play with your clit if you could, but Javier is taking everything from you, and you can’t help but give it to him. A few more thrusts and he’s done for: next thing he knows, he pulls out and comes all over your ass, jerking himself off to completion. He watches you squirm and, freed from his grip, you rub your clit speedily, and you come with a ragged moan, your orgasm messy and unusually wet, spurting everywhere.
It takes you a while to settle down. Then you feel Javier’s hands on your ass again, only now they’re gently cleaning your skin with what feels like a warm cloth. When you move to the edge of the bed, you see the mess over the sheets, slightly embarrassed.
“Wow,” you notice. “I don’t think I’ve ever… came this hard.”
Javier smiles. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“Of course you would, you cocky bastard.”
He leans down to kiss you, falling atop of you again. “So I take it you liked the lingerie?” you cheekily ask.
“We pretty much ruined your sheets. Take that as you will.”
It’s no longer embarrassment that you feel, but rather fondness, and a certain happiness. It’s bizarre—you’ve never felt happiness quite like this. It feels deserved, after all the hard work and hardships you’ve both endured.
You crawl into the bed, listening to the rain falling against the windows. Javier joins you, one arm wrapped around you.
“Starting tomorrow, we’re gonna go through hell again, you know?” Javier says, visibly contemplative.
“Nice pillowtalk.”
Javier chuckles softly, turning to look at you.
“I know though,” you reply. “We should enjoy this afternoon as much as we can.”
“Any other devilish plans on your mind?”
“Eh. Let’s see how you feel in half an hour, maybe we give it another go.”
You graze his cheek, weirdly thankful for all the moments that led you to this particular one, safely in his arms.
“You know I’d fuck you all the time if I could,” he tells you.
“You sure know how to flatter your women.”
“About the mission though… I’m thinking we should have some boundaries.”
“Like what? No making out in the break room or getting down and dirty in the evidence room?”
You smile at one another, smugly remembering the precise moments you broke all rules known to professionalism.
“Would help, yes,” Javier says. “It’s for our safety. We can’t let people know we’re together. Otherwise—“
You take his hand into yours, trying to reassure his pessimism. You can’t help but share it as well, although you know it consumes him more than you on occasion.
“I know,” you tell him sweetly. “We’ll be careful.”
Javier sees your wide smile, and it manages to make him flustered for what feels like a premiere in his life.
“What?” he asks.
“So… we’re together? A real couple?”
“I thought it was obvious.”
You shrug. “I like to hear it.”
Javier’s thumb grazes your cheek, cupping it as if he’s holding the most valuable possession in the world in his hand.
“I won’t let anything happen to you,” he murmurs.
“I know that too. We’ll be fine.”
“We’ll be fine.”
And for the first time since he’s been in Colombia, Javier means it, and feels it to be true. He knows Cali will be just as—if not more—murderous and bloody than Medellin and Bogota, but it doesn’t feel that difficult now that he’s not alone.
He was never alone when you were around him. And maybe, hopefully, he won’t ever be alone again.
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prime-adeptus · 7 months
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AND OUR LOVE IS A GHOST – HANZO SHIMADA X READER
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Hanzo faces another ghost from his past.
CONTENT.⠀gender-neutral reader. angst. hanzo and reader are exes. unhappy reunions.
NOTES.⠀part of an Overwatch ficlet collection I've started on ao3 :) this one's dedicated to @kakujis, the Older Brother Character enjoyer <3 I couldn't let us teehee over him too much so here's some angst to balance it out
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Hanzo has faced more than his fair share of trials and tribulations in his life.
Those, however, pale in comparison to where he stands now—injured on the doorstep of someone he had selfishly abandoned years ago. It hurts his pride that he was even in this position. He knows he’s damn good with a bow and arrow. He spent years honing his skill, doing everything he could to take back the honour he lost. But it wasn’t enough to fight against a machine.
Though he could treat his injuries himself (he always does; when you are alone, all you have to turn to is yourself), these are too much for him to deal with by his lonesome. He’s not sure what hurts more. The cuts and bruises steadily marking up the skin of his torso or the emotionless stare you’re giving him. He deserves it, he supposes. He’d left you behind without so much of a letter, gone under the radar and never contacted you again. At the time he thought it was for the best. Without anything left to his name, having been stripped of all he had, he didn’t deem himself worthy of you. He was too caught up in his hurt and completely disregarded you, the one who loved him, cared for him—
“Whatever you’re thinking about, stop it,” you speak up, tone laced with impatience and remnants of anger. “Just come in.”
Hanzo tries not to wince as he follows you inside your home. It’s different from what he remembers—it feels… bleak, barely lived in. He doesn’t have the time to mull over what he’d done to you when you’re pulling him by the sleeve and urging him to sit down. He’s left by himself for a few moments as you disappear into a room before reemerging with a sleek glove in your hand.
You don’t say a word as your hand presses against his chest, a faint white-yellow glow emerging from the glove as pleasant tingles surge through his system. Without knowing it, he closes his eyes and lets himself succumb to relief, his pain and tension leaving his body with each touch.
“A friend of mine gave this to me when he visited.”
The mention of this friend has his eyes snapping open. There’s something akin to irritation—envy—stirring in his chest, but he begrudgingly lets it go. After all, what right does he have to feel possessive of you?
“I’ve been volunteering at the hospital as a nurse. They’ve been understaffed since the last Null Sector invasion.” You’re not even looking at him as you talk, instead focusing on treating him. After a glance at the holopad by your side, you withdraw and step back from him. “What are you doing here?”
“I…”
“There’s nothing for you here, Hanzo.”
His heart sinks. It constantly dawns on him how no apology will ever make up for how he left you—he’d taken a piece of your heart and broken it beyond repair.
“Instinct,” he finally says. “My heart led me here.”
You roll your eyes, an exasperated scoff leaving your lips. “Five years late?”
He knows you don’t owe him forgiveness. Hell, he knows he doesn’t deserve it. Still, seeing what used to be love in your eyes turn into resentment hurts him more than any blade ever could. The walls you’d let down for him were built back up, stronger than before, and there’s no way he can possibly get through.
“You’re still living here after Null Sector’s invasion?”
“Some of us can’t just leave things behind to go on our own,” comes your response, quick and snappy. You sigh, your tense features softening just the slightest. “I have friends and family here. I have to help where I can.”
“I… am sorry. I hope they are safe.”
“Sorry enough to help?”
Your words are hauntingly familiar, reminding him of yet another loved one he failed—the young shrine maiden who’s turned to a life of vigilantism to do what he couldn’t. He bites on the inside of his cheek, his eyes downcast. For a man who’s spent years with the most beautiful of words, all of them are lost to him under your glare. Guilt, regret, sorrow—feelings that are even more familiar swirl in his chest, drags him into the depths of the dark.
“I’ll let you stay. It’s late.” You sniffle, and his heart sinks. “But I want you gone by the morning. I don’t care where you go, just… don’t come back.” Then, in a barely audible whisper, you continue, “Please.”
All he can do is watch as you disappear into a silhouette walking down the corridor, leaving behind nothing but faint sobs in your wake. How many tears have you shed because of him? How dare he expect your forgiveness when he has done nothing to earn it? Your agreeing to help him had already been unexpected—miraculous—enough. A selfish part of him wonders if he can ever make it up to you, take away your hurt by being a better man for you.
Hanzo no longer dreams. There is nothing to wish for, nothing he will ever get back. But for you, he dreams that you’ll find it in your heart to look at him the same way you used to again. He’ll do anything to make amends and treat you better if you consider him deserving of a second chance.
For now, he’ll do as you wish and leave just like he did all those years ago. He can’t bear hurting you anymore.
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useramor · 2 years
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it's you, it's you, it's all for you (everything i do) word count: 1.1k
eddie asks about buck's coma dream, 6x11 coda (also the title is from video games by lana del rey because they're playing a video game in this sdlfgjh okay enjoy)
“So,” Eddie says after they’ve both died in the video game. Christopher got it recently and already completed the entire game — a magical quest one that ends with them fighting off an evil wizard that turns into a dragon. Very Maleficent, if you ask Buck. 
“So?” Buck echoes, looking over at him. They’re sitting on the floor, backs resting against the couch. Eddie looked at him curiously when he plopped onto the ground, but a couch feels like a little bit of a sore subject at the moment.
Especially when his mom recently bought the largest, ugliest, most uncomfortable sofa Buck’s ever sat on. It’s an eyesore. And it is, unfortunately, taking up half his loft.
It feels kind of pointed. Like the universe is trying really hard to tell him something. He figures he better figure it out soon, because he doesn’t feel like getting struck by lightning or something.
Again.
Point is, Buck wants a comfortable couch. It doesn’t have to be huge, or have reclining seats, or anything, but it needs to feel right. He needs to sit on it and feel like he’s home. Like he can relax and shed some of the pressures of the day.
It might be a lot to put on a couch, but Buck’s willing to wait. 
So, basically, they’re on the floor. 
“What was I like? In your dream? I mean, I was in it, right?”
“Kind of?” Buck tilts his head, scrunching his nose as he looks at it. “I don’t think you’re gonna like what my subconscious came up with.”
Eddie shrugs, leaning against the couch, head tilted slightly. He’s very pretty, Buck’s been noticing. Not that there has ever been a moment where he thought Eddie was unattractive, but it’s been a kind of new discovery to realize the small smile on his face as he waits for Buck to move on makes his heart swoop.
It’s not a new feeling, either, just one he wasn’t ready to look at, yet. He’s still not quite there, if he’s being honest with himself.
It’s just—
Eddie’s couch fits him, Eddie, and Chris pretty comfortably. Buck’s spent an awful lot of nights (and a lot of awful nights) sleeping on this couch. And it’s not like Buck’s ready to put this couch in his loft or move into Eddie’s house so he can sit on this couch all the time, but. Maybe soon he’ll be okay with…sitting on it, or something.
And he thinks Eddie might grab some beers from the fridge and sit beside him.
“I still wanna know,” Eddie says, low and soft, quiet under the repetitive tune of the video game still playing on the TV.
“Okay,” Buck says. “Well, I didn’t see you.”
“You saw everyone else but you didn’t see me? I thought we were best friends,” he teases.
“We are. You were alive in it. Chim mentioned you.”
“Your subconscious puts Chimney over me?”
I think my subconscious knew that if I saw you and you weren’t the Eddie sitting in front of me, I wouldn’t know how to cope, he thinks, but keeps the words to himself. Rolls his eyes fondly and mumbles a “shut up,” instead.
“No, seriously. Here I’ve been considering you my friend, bringing my son to see you in the hospital — sneaking him into the ICU, by the way, because he wouldn’t leave the hospital without seeing you—”
“Really?” Buck asks, and he hates the awe in his voice. He hates the way, even after all this time, he doesn’t know how to trust that people want him around. Not fully, anyway. 
Eddie catches onto it. Of course he does. 
“Buck, of course. Chris needed you to come back. We all did.”
Buck hears the silent I needed you to come back. He doesn’t point it out. 
He swallows around a tightness in his throat.
“Oh,” he whispers. Eddie snorts, looking at him fondly. 
“Yeah. Oh.”
“You didn’t have Chris. In my dream,” Buck blurts.
“Your parents fought for custody and won. You—I didn’t know you. In the dream. Or, you didn’t know me, but, hell, it’s my brain, right? So I knew. I knew you fought like hell to keep him, but your hours in the end—Eddie, I hope you know I don’t think I, like, am the reason you have Chris. You’re the best dad I know, okay? I know you would do anything in the world for him, I was just living in my worst case scenario, and—”
“I didn’t have you,” he says simply. “I would do anything for my son, obviously, but without the right help, without Carla, I can only imagine the kind of hell my parents would’ve given me.”
Eddie’s looking at him so gently that Buck would trip over the feelings he’s spilling onto the floor if he weren’t sitting down. 
“You’re not wrong to assume our lives would kind of suck without you, Buck.”
“My life sucked without you. You were the first person I thought of, when I woke up in that dream. You and Christopher,” he admits softly, his words washing over them like a blanket. Eddie scoots closer. Buck can’t tell if the action is intentional or not, he just knows that from one second to the other there’s a new, unmistakable warmth along his side.
“Yeah?” Eddie asks, like he can’t believe Buck. Like he can’t believe he got lucky enough to have him sit here and admit that Eddie and Chris were the first tethers, his first pulls back home. 
“Yeah. Always. Fought to come home, y’know.” Buck hopes it comes off casually. Hopes it comes off like his heart isn’t lodged in his throat, like maybe the 118 is his home, but Eddie seems to get it, anyway.
Eddie knocks their shoulders together, and it’s a quiet promise. They both know, he’s pretty sure. They both know they’ve got something going, something good, something with a couch and a house and a family. A love Buck doesn’t have to die to experience.
But it’s not the right time. Close. Just hovering around the corner. Buck can be patient for once in his life; Eddie’s worth everything. 
He picks up his controller, silently asking if he wants to go again. 
Eddie nods, but his finger hovers over the play button. His brown eyes are warm and dark when they land on Buck’s, and it takes mental effort to remember he needs to keep breathing when Eddie smiles at him — soft and fond and flushed a peachy pink. 
“For the record,” he says, clearing his throat like the words don’t know how to come out. “I always fight to come home to you, too.”
Buck’s character dies three times in a row, the words home to you on an endless loop in his mind.
Yeah, he thinks. Knows, really. Soon. 
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badaseyebags · 3 months
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to all the boys that tried to love me ch 4⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚
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word count: 2,5k (wew)
warnings: tsurugi being icky (as always), bad writing
author’s note: wow can you believe i actually updated? i was gonna drop this series as a whole since i don’t think anyone’s reading but but oh well, impulsive thinking at its finest😞 feel free to roast me, hope you enjoy! 🍞
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life’s been pretty strange lately, i’m out here making random friends, trying to be social and even being protected by them despite them not even knowing me? well let’s be real, even tsurugi’s friends are warning him not to hurt me, and telling me to be careful around him. they seem to like me more than him. i’m also getting one step closer to my crush by knowing her name. everything is going great, right? yeah that’s also what i thought. this was just moments before everything would crumble again.
i’ve spent my days with my besties and with tsurugi texting me non stop about how he’s fallen in love with me, and how he pictures our future together. from our wedding and our daily life together, to the name of our future children.. yikes, i’ve already turned him down at least 10 times this week, letting him know i’m not interested in finding a boyfriend. i thought he seemed a bit too chill with that at first, which was relieving. he suggested we become closer friends to which i could only agree to. i might of been pushed a little outside my comfort zone when he wouldn’t stop begging to call me with me before he goes to bed, i have anxiety every time i call someone but we’re friends now, right..? that’s what friends do.
i have no clue why ryujin is so excited about tsurugi not leaving me alone, but bummed out about me becoming friends with wooyoung. i know she’s into him but it’s not like i hang out with him or something, i have my own crush. we just text from time to time and i watch his streams when i get notified, i always try to mention her too. somehow it feels like he’s more of a friend than she is somedays.. maybe i’m being too sensitive, but she doesn’t seem fond of us getting along, i always thought it’s good when your friends and your love interest have a nice connection. i’d be happy if her and hwa got along well.
she was ready to take things a little bit further and make the next step to finally meet her crush, tell him she’s the girl who’s been sending him those hints, his secret admirer. reveal her identity then and there. she’s so bold for doing that, i’d probably pee my pants if i just approached hwa out of nowhere… maybe she’s so brave because it was me messaging him instead of her this whole time.. ah and my crush.. i don’t even have her social media.. i just know her name.. anyways i think my efforts to get them to talk will hopefully pay off soon. hmm.. maybe i am trying a bit hard to introduce them to each other. oh well, there’s another party today and she wants to go really bad to finally meet her crush face to face. well more like face to mask cuz i doubt he would magically appear without it, it’s like a permanent part of his face at this point. was he born with it?
tonight’s theme is school party, i really like the concept because i have an excuse to dress up all cute and not get judged for once, since everyone will be matching in some way. i curled my pink hair and put it in two little buns, wearing an outfit resembling a school uniform along with some white thigh high socks. i love how opposite me and my besties look, they’re always wearing dark colours and look so cool and i’m just there like their pastel coloured accessory. i wish i could wear this everyday without being looked at weird.. i add some finishing touches by putting little bows on either sides of my hair, spraying my besties and i down with my favorite glitter spray. “you look like a girl that calls her boyfriend senpai” ryujin’s older sister jokes as we finish getting ready in her house, her escorting is out. hopefully she doesn’t mean it in a cringy way.
the three of us walk hand in hand and before we can even reach the club we are met with tsurugi running up to me, pulling me into a hug and pulling the mask off my face. “don’t you dare cover your cute face or i will spank you!” he threw it aside and i put my head down. ew, what an ick. i cringe feeling a little insecure, thinking the thought of covid being a little while ago would save me, but i failed since i have lost my mask somewhere in the wind. i keep my head down for a little before he pulls me into yet another tight hug, my cheeks soon being pinched and my ears ringing from the excessive amounts of compliments he threw at me. he’s really not getting the hint, i don’t like him! how is he not seeing it? “friends” my butt.. i try being nice to him but in the end he never respects my boundaries and ends up making me uncomfortable with his never dying efforts. i beg my friends to distract him for a little to allow me to get some fresh air, i just need to take a little walk without him being all up in my face for a at least a minute. one minute of peace is all i need.
i let out a sigh of relief as i watch him disappear inside the the club along with my besties, closing my eyes, simply enjoying the soft breeze. its a little chilly but not too cold, just the right amount of air hitting my face as i walk, just the refreshment i needed. i continue walking an unknown path all by myself, making sure to not stray too far from my friends, this place can be full of creeps but today for some reason unknown, i’m not afraid. my feet stop me in some random alley nearby, and that’s when i finally decide to properly open my eyes, looking up instead of the floor. at some point i stop walking forward and turn my head to the left. maybe it was the muted chatter coming from that side luring me in, maybe it was the lights that reflected so nicely that drew my attention. my body became stuck as my eyes reached an unknown figure, just a guy resting on the side of the wall, thick black glasses framing his face, his outfit also resembling a uniform occupied by the phone in his hands. he seemed to play some kind of a game on it. as if he felt my eyes unknowingly scanning him, he looked up from his phone and the second our eyes met, everything went into slow motion. for a moment it felt like time had suddenly stopped, almost as if i could feel every second turn into a whole minute, holding my breath unknowingly. i can never hold eye contact, not even with my friends but.. is it supposed so feel this deep? i’ve never seen such sad eyes, but.. why do i feel so much comfort? i swear i’ve seen those eyes before i just can’t figure out where..he feels so safe and peaceful? i feel like.. i’m a little kid again.. feeling a certain way i haven’t felt since i lost my grandpa, he was my favourite person in the world.. what even is this feeling? am i drunk? oh wait, i didn’t even drink yet.. even the wind is moving in slow motion, wtf is happening.
before i get the chance to peel my eyes away, his phone falls to the ground with a thud as it slips from his hands. even though he’s across from me, i could hear the screen shatter and my eyes widen as i turn around and quickly run back to meet up with my friends, letting out a breath i held in the entire moment. i made him break his phone by being creepy oh my god, whoever he is i hope he doesn’t bump into me tonight. i would have to pay for his phone or something, I’ve got about 20 bucks and a strawberry flavoured lollipop. i doubt that’s enough-
great now i’m back being trapped inside a club with a dude who’s desperately trying to make me his girlfriend. speaking of girlfriend… i’ve noticed hwa, but… she went to the mens bathrooms? maybe it wouldn’t hurt to approach her, this is the perfect opportunity! it’s a sign. i think as i walk closer to the door. i should let her know she went to the wrong bathrooms accidentally and get to know her that way. girls bathrooms are such a easy place to start conversations for some reason. oh- she looked into the mirror in front of her, her eyes locking with mine for a split second. i swear i saw her smirk. what the hell is going on! i panic, running back to ningning, surprised when i don’t see ryujin next to her. “i just saw hwa…going into the men’s bathroom??? where the hell is ryujin?” ningning swayed her body to the beat of the music for a little before agreeing to go get some fresh air with me. “i think she went to say hi to wooyoung” she screamed over the loud music as we made our way outside. oh yeah i totally forgot he would be here, i should probably greet him too, i have to witness this iconic moment of them meeting.
i excitedly skip outside the club, arms linked with ningning, trying to find our bestie and the guy she doesn’t even know, but won’t stop drooling over. as soon as the outside air hits me, so does someone’s words. “is miffy here?” huh.. me..? i look around and find the owner of the voice and my smile drops a little. the same man i saw just moments ago, those thick frames resting on his face. he’s now talking to ryujin. “oh, she’s right here.” she exclaims as i blink, confused looking between the two of them. how does he know my name?? and why is he speaking to her, and why does he know of my existence.. where have i heard his voice.. did he possibly approach her to ask her to pay for his phone cuz he saw us together?i’m so screwed. my mind goes 30 thoughts per second as i try to understand the situation.
“hey miffy, and her friend that i don’t know the name of” he says and my mind connects the dots. i know this voice. i know this dude, no wonder his eyes were so familiar.. it’s wooyoung.. oh god. i can’t allow myself to look up anymore as i just nod, closing my mouth that opened in shock, waving my hand as the other one clutches to ningning. “that’s ningning, but we call her ningi” ryujin says and he repeats questionably. “should we exchange instagrams?” he suggests passing his now cracked phone to ryujin, her excitedly typing her username into the search and passing the phone to ningning soon after. he takes the phone out her hands, offering it to me jokingly. “oh yeah, i don’t need yours i already have it” he waves it in my face, seeming too happy for the fact i accidentally broke his phone earlier. seeing my profile already pulled up on his screen my heart drops a little, his phone is done for, and it’s my fault. “is..your phone okay?” my stupid mind blurts out as if i was blind, or stupid, which i am both actually.
he laughed tucking it away into his pocket. out of sight, out of mind. “it’s just a little scratch, don’t worry about it” he says assuringly and my head dips down in embarrassment again, what a great way to interact with friends! god i’m hopeless. i didn’t even recognise him without his mask, it’s my first time seeing his face but still.. ryujin keeps trying to make small talk but i feel his gaze on me and i tug on ningning’s arm. “we should probably get going, let’s give them some privacy, ningi”. she nods in agreement but he cuts me off. “actually i have to get going but, i’ll see you around?” he asks but it feels like he’s not speaking to all of us. ah right, i forgot i’m the only one who he actually interacted with before. i’m like his friend now, of course he’s relying on me, god i suck at communicating. i nod and just as he was about to leave ryujin grabs a hold of his arm, whining slightly. “noo, don’t go yet” he looks back at her almost panicked, trying to pull his arm back. “pleasee” she tugs on his arm not letting go. he wiggles out of her grip, running off with a wave. “sorry!!” he disappears into thin air, leaving her confused and clinging to us. ah… damn this.
she’s basically heart broken right now because he pretty much just rejected her on the spot. as soon as she approached him revealing her identity he told her he’s not looking for any relationship, and right after that asked her about me. and now she’s embarrassed for grabbing onto him like that. well.. i mean since were at a party might as well enjoy it. well not really, we were kind of avoiding tsurugi and his attempts to grope me, followed by him moving onto a totally random girl, giving her almost identical treatment except this one actually seems to enjoy it, i swear this man has no shame. i gotta go fix my eyesight, i suggest a walk to some nearby shop to get some snacks since we all got a bit hungry.
i approached one of the friends i’ve made earlier that night, asking her for directions since we have no clue where the nearest shop is or where the hell we actually are. “we can go with you, imma just get a few more buddies so you can wait for us outside” she says and i excitedly skip outside, happy to take a walk with more new friends despite being shy and not knowing how to. i hear laugher and chatter as i turn around, seeing her along with a bunch of people. some faces i haven’t seen yet, some i have, hwa being one of them. oh crap, there’s no way. she’s coming too, i’m so gonna piss myself. i cling onto my friends once again, trying to look calm even tho i was fangirling inside (and probably on the outside too).
our walk was fun, people joking around and talking about random things, singing and dancing around, showing off the alcohol in their blood stream. everyone, everyone except hwa. she was just smiling and watching everyone interact, kinda like i tend to do in bigger crowds. she remained quiet until someone asked her a question, and that’s when i heard her voice for the first time and realised something is a little bit off. not just a little.. she doesn’t sound like what i expected..but not that it’s an issue just.. hold up.. the voice.. the bathroom..
she’s a he? hwa is a guy??!!! what the-
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veronicaphoenix · 8 months
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Chapter tags & trigger warnings: slight angst, best friends' comfort, alcohol intake, sexual innuendos, mentions of praise kink and spankings, discussions of rope play, implied depression. | Word count: 6.2k | Cross posted on AO3. | Series masterpost. ✧.*
General trigger warnings: This work addresses and depicts issues related to addiction and violence, contains explicit sexual content, and explores themes of childhood trauma. Reader discretion is advised. +18
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As I cleaned the house that Sunday and meticulously removed the dust from the desk in the studio at the back of the house, I stared at the useless standing calendar that Jesse’s mother had gotten him for his last birthday. It had been used for nothing, except to reduce the space in the already cluttered desk and now to remind me that two weeks had slipped away since I last saw Lia. We had never spent so much time without seeing each other, and her absence now felt like an unfamiliar void that was expected whenever we weren’t immersed in our shared work or entangled in the demands of a hectic tour schedule.
I sighed, my frustration finding a target in Jolly, whose scattered dirty socks littered the hallway. I damned him out loud only to be answered back from the living room with a retort, his voice dubbing me a “you’re an annoying housemaid.”
I contemplated picking up the socks and throw them at his face. Instead, I gathered them with two fingers and deposited them in the hamper before hastily retreating to my room.
After washing my hands, I perched on the armchair in the corner, a book in my hand. However, the attempt to lose myself in its pages proved useless as my mind incessantly replayed the echo of Lia’s absence. Giving up, I took out the phone from my pocket and dialed her number for the fourth time that day.
I hadn’t talked much to her lately because Lia had been staying at Mitch’s place. The subtle shifts in her behavior, her guarded glances, and the way she dodged spending time alone with me or the way she avoided certain topics made me aware that Mitch and her had probably talked about our friendship, about our situation and what it meant in their relationship. It was no secret anymore that Mitch didn’t like it when Lia and I spent too much time together, especially if he wasn’t around. It was only natural that Lia didn’t want to disappoint him or give him reasons to think about something that wasn’t there. After all, they were together —had been for nearly a year now—. I understood why she had lied to him that night, as I understood that this year-long relationship had undoubtedly solidified his claim over her. Mitch had more rights to have Lia than I did, even if I knew her better than him and knew how she liked to take her cereal in the morning, what temperature she wanted her tea served at, the idiosyncrasies that made her fidgety or prompted her to nervously bite her lip or nails, what smells bothered her, and how little control she had over alcohol.
That Sunday, I knew she was back at her apartment. Mitch had left two days ago with his band. Lia was alone, grappling with the remnants of her former self; the person she had been before he came into her life.
I gave her a graceful forty-eight-hour window. When I looked down at my phone again and still didn’t see any calls or messages from Lia, I called her, anxiety growing, and kept on calling until I got her to answer.
“Fuck, Lia, what’s going on?” I blurted out as her voice reached my ears from the other end.  
“Hello to you, too, Noah.”
“Save it. I’ve been calling you for hours. Are you avoiding me?”
“Why would I be avoiding you?” She questioned. I could hear her movements against the backdrop of her flat.
“I don’t know, you tell me,” I replied. I was slouched in the armchair, attempting to contain my anxiety and frustration, yet I was tempted to jump from my seat and start pacing around.  
“I’ve been busy, Noah.”
“Listen,” I asserted, rising from the armchair and starting the unnecessary pace back and forth. As I spoke, I straightened the cupboard door and aligned the books on my desk. “I’m sick of you telling me you’re having business meetings, or writing, or drawing, or taking care of your flowers. I know you’re alone, so drag your ass over here so that we can spend some time together or I plan on kidnaping you, I swear.”
Silence. I anticipated a stifled laugh, but none came.
It took me ten minutes to convince her. When I did, I was tempted to throw a fist in the air.
Within thirty minutes, she was on her way.
“You’re borderline desperate for you best friend, dude. I can only imagine how it would be if she were your girlfriend,” Jolly mentioned casually after I told him that Lia was coming. It hadn’t gone unnoticed to him the number of times I had checked Lia and I’s conversations on iMessage and how many times I had tried contacting her throughout the day.
I shot him a disdainful look.  
“Can’t you stop it?”
He responded with a nonchalant shrug, comfortably settled on the sofa, engrossed in his phone while drinking from a can of beer, and throwing occasional glances my way.
“You’d understand if you had grown with her. I don’t feel right when she’s away for so long,” I admitted, a sensation of sickness settling over me each time she went MIA. I was literally falling sick like an old man.
I was feeling particularly good that day when it came to my physical health, but the days prior I had been dealing with my usual flower madness.
“I would get it checked, man,” Jolly replied, sensing the need to address the escalating situation. “This level of dependency you have with her is going to end up driving you insane. Who’s to say that this weird-ass disease of yours doesn’t have something to do with your obsessive attitude towards her? You’re tired of picking up my dirty socks? I’m tired of finding dry flowers everywhere. Sure, I get the whole ‘growing up together and sharing childhood traumas’ thing, but I’m afraid this is only going to lead to another one if you don’t sort yourself out.”
“Are you saying this is psychological? That I’m coughing up flowers because I want to?” I scoffed.
Jolly leaned forward, his eyes fixed on me from the other side of the house, the end of the living room. There was a seriousness coloring his tone when he spoke.
“It’s a psychosomatic disorder, that’s for sure. Otherwise, someone would have been able to tell what’s wrong with you by now.”
“There’s nothing wrong with wanting my best friend’s company.”
“You say that, but you don’t know what other effects that constant cheesy longing is having on you. I’m starting to consider that maybe we should really start taking your grandma’s folklore stories more seriously. You’re walking a precarious path, dude. Coughing up flowers, incessantly messaging and calling Lia… Listen to your grandmother, I’m sure she’s got something wise to say regarding this. There has to be a connection…”
“Jolly, I’m not in the mood for this shit, honestly.”
“Well, then, are you going to keep calling Lia ten times a day when she’s married and has children?”
His question left me momentarily speechless. I’d never considered that, never seen that future, that possibility; Lia building a life without me.
A sudden wave of panic crashed over me.
I swallowed hard.
“I didn’t call her ten times,” I defended, even though I knew it was a lost battle.
Jolly, in his slouched position, merely raised an eyebrow and chuckled. I wasn’t sure if the whole situation thrilled or tired him.
“Whatever you say, man,” he concluded, returning to whatever he was doing on his iPhone and taking another sip from his beer.
Walking around the kitchen isle, I tried to shake off his words from my head. He had pissed me off. Those insinuations… Fuck it.
I grabbed one of the tea boxes from the cupboards and started preparing Lia’s favorite tea, purposedly refusing to offer Jolly any drink.
“Do you want me to leave you two alone?” He quipped without looking up.
“Now what do you mean by that?” I asked, stopping on my tracks, tea bag in my hand.
“I don’t mean anything,” he said, raising his voice. “Why are you getting so defensive, man? I’m just offering you some time with her. It’s not so crazy after all these years of you two living in a bubble of your own and excluding the rest of us on your outings to the city center, concerts, or museum dates. If you prefer I don’t say anything, then good, I’ll stay. We can watch a movie together or cook something. I miss her, too, in case you didn’t know, and I’d like to catch up with her.”
"You don’t have to go,” I conceded, dropping my shoulders. I was aware that Lia’s increasing absence had affected everyone, not just me. Mitch seemed to be pulling her away from our collective lives. Thank God the band was still her priority.
“I want to see her,” Jolly stated, rising from the sofa. He turned off the TV —that had been playing in the background uselessly— and tossed the remote onto the empty space beside him. “You think I haven’t noticed something’s off with her? Hell, even Steven noticed. He told me she spent two hours in silence while sorting out the merch boxes the other day. Two hours without saying a fucking word. He freaked out.”
A chill ran down my spine. When did that happen? Had it been last week? Last month?
“Why didn’t he tell me?” I questioned.
“I don’t know. The point is, I do know what’s going on. I know you’re worried that her relationship with Mitch isn’t going that well.”
I dropped my shoulders once again, letting out a sigh as I swayed my head tirelessly.
“She doesn’t tell me anything, that’s the fucking problem,” I told him honestly. “If I ask her, she’ll tell me everything’s ok, and I can tell by the look on her face she doesn’t want me to ask any more questions, so what am I supposed to do?”
“Maybe you could talk to her about it today. I don’t know Mitch that well to come to any conclusion. The dude seems pretty decent to me,” he shrugged. “But you and Lia need to talk. Tell her how you feel.”
As if it was that simple, that easy.
“Dude, it’s Lia. She adores you. Hell, she has you on a pedestal. Before Mitch, everything was Noah this, Noah that. Maybe she’s pent up because she’s in a relationship and she doesn’t know how to manage a boyfriend and a best friend simultaneously, but I’m sure if you sit down with her, ask the right questions, she’ll tell you and both of you will release some tension.”
“Maybe,” I responded, still feeling uncertain. I was scared to realize that we weren’t the confidants we used to be.  
“Listen to me and do it. I’ll stay for a while, then I’ll go get some stuff from the supermarket. Jesse has eaten all the chocolate chip cookies again, that bastard. Maybe I’ll go spend some time with Folio and his dad and leave you two alone.”
I sighed, not knowing what else to say.  
“Thanks, man.”
“No problem. Now, can you make me a coffee? Or you’re only here to serve princess Lia’s wishes?” He asked, pointing with his eyes to the mug she usually had her tea in whenever she came over.
I rolled my eyes.
“I’ll make you a coffee.”
Lia arrived not long later, donned in snug black leggings, a black and red flannel draped over a white tank top, her hair open and falling graciously over her chest. Jolly, ever the exuberant host whenever required, opened the door and offered her a boisterous welcome with a hearty “hi, Gremlin” following by a hug that she reciprocated. The delightful sound of her shy laughter wafted from the entry to the kitchen as I poured hot water from the kettle into two mugs.
As Jolly ushered her inside, her eyes flitted around looking for me. She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw me, her smile faltering, and her eyes widening in surprise.
“No,” she uttered, mouth agape.
Jolly shifted his gaze between Lia and me, attempting to piece together the situation. Then, an amused expression appeared on his face. “You didn’t know?” he inquired, standing at her side.
She blinked in disbelief, still looking at me in the open kitchen.
“Hi, Gremlin,” I greeted. “No hello? Nothing?”
God, it was so good to see her. I couldn’t contain my smile even though I knew she was probably unhappy about the change she was seeing in me.  
“You… When did you—? Oh, my goodness,” she gasped, bringing both hands to her mouth. “When did you cut your hair?”
“Last week,” I replied.
“You didn’t tell me…”
I shrugged. Then, noticing she was frozen in place, I gestured for her to come to me. When she was at arm’s reach, I wrapped my arms around her. Her response was delayed, arms hesitantly wrapping around my neck. When I pulled back, her fingers found their way to my recently shortened hair, lightly grazing the strands on my forehead.
I was amused at her commotional reaction until I realized she wasn’t feigning it. She was about to cry.
“Hey, it’s just a haircut,” I gently touched her elbow.
“But… It was so long. It took so many years to grow.”
"It’ll grow back,” I reassured her, although the truth was, I had no intention of letting it reach the previous length. I was done with long hair for now, at least.
She let out a sigh and dropped her hand.
Jolly noticed the silence and the low energy that Lia brought with her, and immediately intervened with light-hearted jokes.
I appreciated that even though Lia wasn’t having much of it, he put on an effort, and he kept us entertained as we enjoyed some pastries and cookies with the coffee and tea I prepared, with stories from his childhood in Sweden and customs different from the ones we had here in the States.
Even though childhood was something that neither Lia nor I remembered as a happy time in our lives, we held onto the memories of our days spent together, the bicycle rides when she had learnt how to pedal, the hours spent in my bedroom where she had started drawing pathetic funny things —a unicorn with socks, a lion with braids— and where I had learnt to play guitar and later on I had taught her how to use the instrument. There was so much we had learnt together… My heart warmed up when I heard her talking about our experience learning to swim together with an excitement that had been missing lately. Grandpa had enrolled me in some summer swimming course, and he had managed to convince Lia’s mother to enroll her as well. On one occasion, I almost drowned due to the teacher overestimating my abilities, and Lia had momentarily panicked and jumped in the water after me impulsively, even though her swimming skills were also limited. That day we returned home totally frightened and traumatized, only to burst out laughing a year later when we remembered each other’s faces and the scolding the teacher gave Lia for her unnecessary rescue attempt, which only prompted another teacher to get in the water to save the two kids.
While I cleared the kitchen from our small tea party —if you’d call it—, Lia and Jolly escaped to his room. He had recently acquired a new guitar and Lia was thrilled to see it. She had been actively helping him to select options before he purchased the one and she was glad to see that finally he had his hands on the one he fell in love with. 
I overheard part of their conversation, and one of Lia’s comments made me smile widely as I closed a cupboard, letting out a giggle.
“Your room is so messy, Jolly. Bring in a few girls and this would easily turn into bedlam.”
“Oh, God no!” he interjected. “Spare me from having another annoying housemaid. I have enough with that one. Let me be, alright?”
“I heard that!” I replied.
Approximately an hour later, Jolly left, taking a handwritten list of groceries with him and slyly winking an eye at me before closing the door behind him. I rolled my eyes at him one more time, even if he couldn’t see me. As I turned around, I was suddenly overcome with the weight of Lia’s presence in the house.
She was standing a short distance away from me, having said goodbye to Jolly moments ago and now looking like a lost puppy unsure of its next move. Where was her confidence? The melancholy etched across her face didn’t escape my notice. My gaze traveled over her subtly, without being too obvious. Had she lost weight?
“Hey, I got you something,” I announced, suddenly remembering my purchase of two days prior. “Wait here.”
I left her standing there with an arched eyebrow as I dashed to my bedroom. I reappeared holding a flowerpot. Lia’s eyes widened as I handed it to her.
“I got it the other day from a new flower shop next to the photography store where Bryan buys his stuff. I’d seen this flower before, but I had no idea it was called Black-eyed Susan. I bought it just because of the name, of course,” I let out a laugh, only to realize that Lia was holding the plant and had frozen again.
She blinked, looking down at the yellow flowers, and a solitary tear traced a path down her cheek.  
“Wha—? Are you crying? Lia, why are you—?”
Before I could finish the sentence, Lia placed the pot in the isle and threw herself into my arms.
“Whoa, hey. What’s—"
Fuck. Maybe these were the type of flowers she had cared for in her garden when she lived with her mom and now they were reminding her of that time. What did I know? I was just into flowers enough to know that jasmine and black petunias were her favorites. Maybe I should have chosen those. Damn it.
“I thought you would lik—"
“I miss you so much,” she interrupted, her voice muffled against my chest as she let out a series of sobs. Her hands fisted the back of my hoodie and her body pressed flush against mine.  
I frowned. For a second, I stood motionless. Then, I tightened my grip on her and buried my face in her hair, inhaling her. Good god, had I missed having her like that. Knowing that she had missed me, too, filled a hole that had been empty for weeks. Months.
Holding each other, I thought about how things would be if they were different. How often I would get to have her like this, how often I could hold her and lose track of time in her arms, losing myself in her scent, her warmth; the feeling of her body wrapped in mine.
I wondered if this was how things were supposed to be between best friends. If others found themselves in this situation, in this predicament, if this was the dance of life. Was it merely friendship if I yearned for her to be tightly pressed against me and I admitted it wasn’t solely for warmth? If I longed for the sensation of her breath on my neck every time we had drifted to sleep together on the couch or even in bed, where our fingers would interlace beneath the covers and we would assure each other that it was just to ease the nightmares?  
I closed my eyes, letting a wave of relief spread through me. I needed this. I needed this honest reaction from her.
“I miss you, too,” I whispered into her hair.
I let myself float in the sensation of the hold we had on each other. Her fists were gripping the back of my hoodie and her nose brushed below my neck when she moved to find deeper shelter. Why did it feel so comforting? So… good?
Lia was so much like home.
We clung to each other tighter, harder, reaching a point where it felt like we might die in that place, in that position. If Death were to come for us, this would be a strangely peaceful way to go.
Lia pulled away first, wiping her tears and grabbing a paper napkin to clean her nose. After a heavy sigh, she offered me a watery smile. Why did I sense it was more to reassure me than her actual feelings? We took one step forward to take two backwards.  
“What am I going to do with you?” I mumbled, looking down at her tenderly.
“I’m such a baby…”
I didn’t say anything. Just walked back to her and wiped the last tear that escaped her eyes with my thumb.
“Don’t do that.”
“Why?” I asked.
“Because it’s going to make me cry again.”
“All right then,” I raised my hands in surrender. “I don’t think I can’t take more of you crying, so no more wiping tears. Got it.”
I managed to coax a smile from her, a small victory that helped us to get out of that ethereal moment we had been caught in.  
A couple of minutes later, after drinking some water, Lia suggested pulling out some board games from the drawer in the TV stand and spend the afternoon entertaining ourselves with Scrabble and the whimsical chaos of Unstable Unicorns. She had gifted the game to Jolly last year for Christmas. I couldn’t resist a wry comment about how the game seemed to mirror ourselves, how unstable we seemed to be.  
When my stomach grumbled after an entertained forty minutes, sharing playful banters, laughs and playful shoulder shoves, I rose from the carpet where we had been seated to get us a couple of beers and prepare some popcorn, given that Lia refused to eat the mango that Jesse had peeled that morning and had kept in a container in the fridge. By the time I came back, she was seated on the sofa, legs crossed in a lotus position, the game forgotten. She had a book in her hands.
“What is this?” She asked.
No sooner had I recognized which book she was holding than I tried to retrieve it from her grasp, Lia skillfully evading my attempts.
“Nothing.”
“’The Seductive art of Japanese Bondage’,” she read. Slowly, she looked up at me, tilting her head to the side. “You’re into tying girls?”
“That’s not what it is,” I attempted to clarify.
“Isn’t it? Then, what is it?”
“Lia…”
“What? You had the book just casually laying on top of the magazine pile underneath the coffee table.”
“Put it back, come on.”
“Why?” The situation definitely amused her. Any trace of the vulnerable Lia I had in my arms an hour ago completely gone. “It’s yours, isn’t it?”
I took a moment to reply.
“Yes.”
“I knew it.”
“What did you know, exactly?”
“Jesse and Jolly are not particularly known for reading too much. But you…” She looked up at me after opening the book. After seeing my exasperated expression, she rolled her eyes and her tone got more serious. “I know you’re into kinky shit behind closed doors, Noah.”
I rubbed my forehead. Yes, I was very uncomfortable with her having that knowledge, but I wasn’t going to let her get away with it.
“I’m not the only one, I dare say,” I replied, raising an eyebrow at her.
She frowned and put the book on her lap.
“What do you mean?”
“You’re not gonna tell me you don’t enjoy being a good girl and getting praised while, you know…”
“Oh, God,” she exclaimed, dropping the book at her side and putting both hands in the sofa, straightening herself up, suddenly commotional. “No, I don’t.”
“I know you well enough to know that you do. Now hand that book back. Come on,” I insisted, extending my arm and hand to her and wriggling my fingers.
“I’ll hand it back when you tell me what it is about,” she continued. She wasn’t one to give up that easily, was she?
“I don’t want to have that conversation with you,” I honestly said.
“Why not?”
“Because… It’s not right. Just hand it back, or I swear I’m going to have to tackle you down until I take it from you.”
“Wow, are we getting there? What else will you do to me?” She teased. Her playful self was back again.
Really?
“For fuck’s sake, Lia. What did you drink?”
“Just the tea you prepared, and the beer” she said sarcastically. “Did you pour something in it?” She arched an eyebrow at me.
I narrowed my eyes at her and placed my hands on my hips.
“You’re being so feisty, girl.”
“I’m just pushing your buttons.”
“You do not want to do that,” I warned.
“Maybe I do,” she retorted with a mischievous glint in her eyes.
The conversation had definitely taken an unexpected turn. Was it normal to have such a conversation with her? There was a subtle flirtation waving through our words that couldn’t be disguised. I couldn’t shake the feeling that she was attempting to distract herself from the sadness she carried when she crossed the door, but there was something more. She wasn’t merely seeking momentary fun with me. I had a dangerous feeling telling me that she really meant it when she said that perhaps, she did want to push my buttons.
Where were we headed?
“Okay, then,” I decided, crossing my arms over my chest. “Do you want to know what I’d do if you were mine and you kept up with this?”
“Yes, I do want to know,” she replied, like an attentive student, eyes fully open and undivided attention fixed on me.
“Good, brace yourself,” I stepped closer, towering over her. Her eyes following me, her head tilting upwards. I could sense her getting intimidated. “Lia Parker, I’d bend you over and get your ass red until you apologized. And maybe later I would keep you on the edge for hours until you begged me to…”
Her face flushed crimson.
“OH. MY. GOD.”
I stared at her for a few seconds, scrutinizing her reaction, contemplating her face, her lips. The imagery of bending her over my lap, or over the kitchen isle maybe, flashed through my mind but reality hit me. This wasn’t right. She had a boyfriend. I was her best friend.
“This was a bad idea. Jesus Christ, Lia,” I muttered, grabbing the book from the sofa and stepping away. “I’m just curious about this, okay? It doesn’t necessarily have to be anything sexual. I can show you to do some interesting knots and you would see what I mean, but it’s just weird discussing this with you.”
“We’ve always discussed everything,” she replied, standing up.
“Not everything, Lia,” I responded, silently acknowledging our unspoken boundaries.
Whether it was about sex or the aspects she concealed from me concerning her relationship with Mitch, it was clear that we hadn’t discussed everything in the past few years.
“Please?” She implored, effortlessly swaying me with just the flutter of her eyelashes.
She could bring me to my knees with barely that innocence.
“Sit down. I’ll get us another beer and we can talk.”
"Okay.”
She did so, settling back into the comfort of the sofa and its cushions. I tossed the book back into her hands. From the kitchen, I regarded her with a smirk, unable to resist teasing her with a “good girl”. She blushed again, though she was quick to shake her head in dismissal and look away from me.
I cracked open two beers and placed them in front of us. Taking a seat on the couch next to her, I mentally braced myself for the impending conversation.
“All right. What do you want to know?”
“What is Shibari?”
I answered her question by giving a quick explanation on the matter. Shibari was a form of artistic rope bondage originated in Japan, used by samurai in the Edo period to restrain prisoners. However, over time, it evolved into something else, an art to create visually appealing and aesthetically pleasing patterns on the body. I told her that now it had become certainly something more erotic, being involved in certain sexual contexts.
Her interest was palpable, evident in the sudden seriousness that replaced any earlier levity.
“Isn’t it dangerous?” she asked.
“Not if done right,” I reassured. I shook the book as if to emphasize my point. “It’s supposed to be executed with the comfort and safety of the person being tied as a priority. And with the right partner. Trust —and consent, of course— are the main thing. So, you have to fully trust that person before you give yourself to them. And it connects the two. One ties, the other one gets tied up. It’s a kind of meditation practice.”
“It’s hard to see it as a meditation while you’re tied upside down,” she remarked, eyeing a picture on the book where I woman hung from the ceiling in an empty room.
“Well, I guess we’ll never really know until we try,” I replied, and we shared a serious look.
I felt her shifting next to me, as if a tad uncomfortable. Clearing her throat, she asked if she could lay on my lap, alleging that she was tired.
“Of course.”
She laid down, using my thighs as a pillow. I adjusted my position, too, ensuring I wouldn’t get hit accidentally where it hurt the most.
“You know, you’re pretty comfy.”
“Gee, thanks.”
We held the book together and she turned to the next page. I resumed my explanations. Although I hadn’t learnt that much, I tried to give her an insightful overview with my words. I realized I wanted her to learn about this so much, to share my same interest. Seeing her genuine attentiveness to the topic warmed me.  
“Shibari isn't just about remembering knots; it's like magic with ropes, a unique way to connect. It's all about how you handle the ropes, playing with speed, tension, and tempo to create different vibes and feelings for yourself or your partner. Using ropes in a playful, sensual, and slightly challenging way helps us understand our own desires and intentions, as well as those of our partners. It's a cool way to explore and connect on a deeper level,” I read from a passage.
“That sounds... lovely,” she made a face as she moved her eyes to look at me and we both shared a laugh.
I kept on reading as she shifted on my lap to get her head to get more comfortable.
She slowly drifted into a peaceful slumber, and then, she was asleep. I couldn’t bring myself to wake her up. I remembered hearing Nicholas, who treated the stillness of his cats with the reverence one might give to sacred moments, saying that it was a crime to disrupt the sleep of his cats if they chose to rest on him, so I chose to let Lia sleep without moving an inch.
The entrance door of the house opened a while later. Jolly entered; a cardboard bag cradled in his arm. His furrowed brow increased as he took in the scenario in the living room. 
“What are you two doing?” he inquired.
“She’s asleep,” I whispered, my voice hushed.
“That’s not exactly what I told you to do,” he retorted, feigning confusion.
“I know,” I said wearily.
But I couldn’t bring myself to move. My hand rested gently on her shoulder; arm draped across her chest. With the other, I’d been using my phone, and the only other time I tried to move was when her phone started buzzing on her pocket. It was Mitch.
I wondered what he would say if he knew that her girlfriend was lying in another guy’s lap while he was away. I scoffed at the thought. The douchebag deserved it. I put her phone on do not disturb mode and left in on the table.
Without uttering a word, Jolly placed the bag in the kitchen, then approached the sofa, grabbed one of the blankets that lay on the pile at the end of the sectional and draped it over Lia’s body.
“She’s passed out.”
“Totally,” I concurred, our voices having no discernible impact on her rest. Her breathing was as steady as a boat navigating calm waters. 
Getting back to the kitchen, Jolly announced that he had brought stuff to make tacos, to which I reply with a simple “great.” 
“Did you talk to Matt?” He continued, emptying the items from the bag onto the counter.
“Yeah, he texted. 10am tomorrow?”
“Yep, but he said he’ll drop by first.”
“No problem.”
I laid my head back and closed my eyes for a few seconds, only to be disturbed by his voice coming from the kitchen again.
“What have you been reading?” He inquired, pointing with his gaze to the book that laid forgotten next to me on the sofa.
“She was interested,” I told him, knowing very well what he would say next.
“You kidding me? And she didn’t run off?” He pretended to be shocked, but he scoffed as he said it.
“No, she fell asleep while I was reading it to her,” I said, my voice still calm because I didn’t want to disrupt the peaceful moment Lia and I were sharing while she slept on my lap.
“There’s something really wrong with her,” Jolly mused.
There’s nothing wrong, I wanted to say. She was probably just tired. And about the stuff we’d been discussing… There was nothing wrong in being interested in it, in learning about it. Jolly was talking as if he was a saint, a vanilla dude in bed while we all knew he wasn’t.
He excused himself by saying he was going to change. The closing of his door was what finally jolted Lia awake.
Her eyelashes fluttered a few times, and she rubbed her cheek against my thigh before adjusting her eyesight to the light in the room and remembered where she was. Her cheeks were reddish, and she looked so sweet.
“Hi, sleeping beauty.”
She smiled sheepishly, rubbing the sleeve of her flannel over her eyes. She noticed she was covered in a blanket and instinctively she tightened its edges against her chest. After a minute in silence, she touched the hair that fell over my eyes.
“I think I can get used to it. I like it.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” I responded.
She stretched like a cat when she sat up, her muscles grateful.  
“Have you not been sleeping well? You were in a deep sleep for a good hour,” I inquired, instantly missing her weight and warmth pressed again my legs.
She sidestepped my question, expressing a certain shock at the realization of her long nap.
“Shit,” she muttered as she checked her phone and saw three missed calls from Mitch and several texts. “I need to get back home.”
“You can stay the night,” I suggested.
“All the rooms are occupied,” she explained, standing up and running her hands through her clothes, her movements marked by a subtle grace.  
“Not the studio. You can sleep in my bed; I’ll use the pullout sofa.”
She shook her head, a delicate cascade of chestnut hair accompanying the motion.
“I’ve got an online meeting tomorrow morning and I’d rather be home,” she said, heading towards her stuff. “I also need to take care of this beauty,” she continued, looking towards the Black-eyed Susan flowerpot waiting for her in the kitchen.
“Lia,” I followed her quietly, rubbing my hands on my sweatpants, fighting to preserve the sense of her warmth on my body. “I have to ask. Is everything okay with Mitch?”
She was not expecting the question; I saw it in the two seconds that she held my gaze, the subtle widening of her pupils.     
Lia deftly veiled her emotions with a nonchalant response.
“Yeah…”
“Just ‘yeah’…? What is it? I can tell you’re upset. You’ve been super sad all day, and I know it’s not just because I cut my hair.”
I managed to earn another small laugh from her, but it wasn’t a big smile. It faded away quickly. She started fidgeting with her fingers, her touch grazing a ring on her left hand.  
“We just had our first argument a few days ago and… Well, we just got heated up, that’s all.”
I closed the distance and stroked her hair, and I swear I could feel her leaning into my touch only to retreat the moment she realized what she was doing.
“Is Jolly back?”
“Yeah, he just got back. He got stuff to make tacos. Want to stay for dinner, at least?”
Her negation felt like a bucket of water being poured over me. I decided not to insist.
That night, right when I got into bed, I opened iMessage and I texted her.
“I loved having you home for a while today, even if you were passed out for like an hour. Take good care of Black-eyed Susan for me.”
“I will defo do, thank you very much. Black-eyed Susan sends her regards, a big hug and a kiss. Good night, Nowah.”
I typed one last message. “Sweet dreams, Lia.” I locked my phone, left in on the bedside table, and tried to sleep.
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