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pencil-n-pen · 20 days ago

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I WANT AN INNOCENT LOVE

.☘︎ ݁˖

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alexandria! rick grimes x fawn! fem! reader

masterlist | kofi

summary: you’re a new addition to alexandria. Rick’s just looking out for his group. That’s the only reason he finds himself drawn to you. Nothing else.

cw: LEGAL age gap (it is big, i imagine reader in her early 20s) canon typical depictions of violence, Rick is kinda mean to reader at first, Rick kind of struggles with the age gap a little, dom! Rick, slight possessive rick

tags/tropes: shy and skittish reader, she’s not used to dealing with people but she’s not helpless, honestly she’s just a sweet and soft person who became what everyone becomes in the apocalypse, hurt/comfort, insecurity, touch-starved reader a bit, YEARNING, no saviors or whisperers just Rick and everyone living happily in alexandria. Daryl is also here and he’s kind of like ur uncle bc i love daryl and i say so

a/n: i have nothing to say other than this is so insanely self indulgent it’s not even funny. nobody asked for this but writing it has kept me sane while i’m couch ridden. everything is terrible rn but rick grimes <3333

songs i listened to while writing: We'll Never Have Sex by Leith Ross, Work Song by Hozier (Rick's theme song) you were mine by Esha Tewari, Do I Wanna Know- Hozier's Cover, Somethin' Stupid by Nancy & Frank Cinatra, Lover, You Should've Come Over by Jeff Buckley (i'm so not normal about that entire album) Under Your Spell by Snow Strippers, Little Bit by Lykke Li (the original not the remix)

title taken from Under Your Spell by Snow Strippers

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You were just a little thing when you showed up at the gates.

All wide-eyed and skittish at the tree-line, clothes hanging awkwardly off your frame. Scuffed and dirty, when Rick goes up to the tower to scout you out.

You don’t quite come close enough for anyone to get any kind of information on you. Name, age, where you’ve been, what you’re doing at the gates.

These are all questions Rick, as leader, needs answers to.

If he could just convince you to get close enough.

Under different circumstances, he’d just let you do whatever it is you’re planning on doing, but the lurking is starting to make people uneasy. And he figured he ought to do something to ease their concerns. Easiest way is to either get you inside the walls or find answers to those questions.

You’re real good at staying out of reach, though. And you never stay in one place for long. By the time two weeks have gone by, you’ve made it around the entire length of the walls. Just to end up right where you started: the gates.

It’s just past the crack of dawn- dew is still lingering on the plants and grass and the sun’s rays have yet to actually provide warmth. Rick is up, making his rounds and checking in when one of the guards on rotation lets him know that you’re at the gates. Only time you’ve ever been that close.

So they’re opened, and you amble in— light-footed and unsure. Honestly, you remind him a bit of Daryl with your obvious hesitance to be in the company of other people and clear inclination towards nature. But where Daryl is hard edges and reclusiveness, you’re… softer.

A small group of people —curious onlookers, mostly— forms behind Rick as he saunters towards you, and he watches the moment you see the reality of your decision and begin to regret it.

He comes to a stop a few feet away from you, letting the silence hang in the air for a bit.

He finally takes you in with his own two eyes, without the aid of the binoculars, and he examines. Catalogs the nervous twitch of your hands and scuffs and scrapes he can see on the visible scraps of skin. Eyes the way you worry your lip between your teeth and can’t decide if you’re going to keep staring at him or look away- your mind clearly torn between vigilance and submission.

“You finish your tour of Alexandria?” He asks dryly.

You blink up at him, eyes wide. “Are you the leader of this safe-zone?”

He nods. “Sure am.”

You begin fiddling with your fingers absentmindedly. The small motion draws his attention back to your hands, where me notices bandaids practically covering the entire surface of your skin. He files the information away in his head for later.

“Are you currently accepting new members?”

He can’t help but crack a smile at your question. The way you phrase it and your nervous demeanor remind him so much of the times before the dead started walking— you look like a college student looking for a job, not somebody trying to find refuge here, after the end of the world.

“Depends,” He rests his hands on his hips, and he notes the way your eyes dart to the gun at his side before back up to him, “You got any skills to offer? You alone? Or do you got a group waitin’ for you?”

Your lip is raw from where you release it from your teeth.

“I’m really good at mending. I’m a proficient hunter. I can hold my own in a fight. And I’m alone.”

At the admittance of your lack of company, you shift back a few steps, a subtle re-distribution of weight.

Ain’t been socialized a whole bunch, Rick thinks to himself. He’s willing to bet you either don’t have a lot of positive experiences with large groups of people or you just plain ain’t been around em’ much.

He hums. “You killed anybody?”

“Walkers or live?”

“Either.”

You shift your shoulders. He’s starting to wonder just how many nervous actions you have.

“I don’t think anybody lives alone who hasn’t killed walkers.”

“And the living?”

You don’t move, but your eyes look to the ground, not at him.

Shame. Fear.

“Twice.”

“How come?”

“They wanted my supplies. Wanted me dead. I decided I didn’t want to die.”

He looks you over again. You really are a cute little thing. He thinks, absentmindedly in the back of his head, that something like you shouldn’t have bloody, bandaid covered hands. Shouldn’t have a kill count.

But he dismisses the thought. The end of the world leaves no room for those unwilling to do what’s necessary.

He dips his head. “We’ll get you settled in,” He jerks his head to the some of the guys behind him. “They’ll get you sorted out. Get along, now.”

You slink past him, distance carefully measured as you go.

Your eyes don’t quite leave him, though. There’s a moment- either you pause or his mind slows. Maybe a bit of both. But the air stills, and your gaze locks on him for the first time since he saw you, nestled in that tree line. The memory is clear and vivid- the sun shining through the trees, dappling you in shades of amber and grey. And then he’s here, and you’re looking up at him, eyelashes fluttering, and the sun has risen just enough that it casts a similar glow, the only difference now he can see up close just how the light catches on your face, just how he knows your features would look so different, so much softer if you were cleaned, if someone minded the cuts and scrapes.

And then you step away, and he snaps out of his reverie. He blinks a few times at your retreating form, shakes his head, and then busy’s himself with other work. There’s always something to be done.

But no matter how hard he tries, he can’t get the image of you gazing up at him, bathed in the early morning sun out of his mind.

—

A few days pass, and Rick sees little of you. He’s almost positive it’s on purpose. The few times he does see you, you look scared. And then, generally, you manage to make some sort of fleet-footed escape. The repeated spotting and fleeing reminds him of the time he accompanied Daryl on a hunt and startled a doe.

He can’t quite figure out why you’re afraid of him, though. He remembers being fairly decent to you when you arrived, and tried coaxing you towards the gates politely before you’d shown up on your own.

The sight of your scared expression ends up stuck fast in his head, usually super-imposed over the image of you on that morning at the gates. Two different versions of you, neither making any sort of sense.

He decides that it’s probably best that he stick away, if he scares you. You’ll settle, your ruffled feathers’ll smooth.

And he’ll stop thinking about you.

—

Neither do you settle or does he stop thinking about you.

He watches you from a distance, careful. You just… don’t relax. Ever. You creep away from every possible opportunity to connect with others like it might grow jaws and bite- you shrink back or freeze. Like you think if you play dead, if you don’t move, they’ll leave you alone.

He’s wondering what you hoped to accomplish by seeking refuge in Alexandria if this is how you act. You’re going to have a bad go of things if this is your plan. Or maybe you plain haven’t even thought that far.

He snags Daryl’s arm as he passes by.

“Wha—“

“The new girl,” Is all Rick says, still watching you remarkably avoid everyone who passes you. “She’s real skittish.”

Daryl follows his eyeline, finding you easy enough.

“Mm. She ain’t settlin’?”

“No.”

Daryl just hums again. “Well, she ain’t got nobody, does she?”

“So?”

The hunter shrugs. “Can’t relax. Ain’t got nobody to watch her back, take a watch. She’ll settle. Might take her a bit of time.”

Rick huffs. “She’s afraid of me.”

“No she ain’t,” Daryl snorts, “And since when does Rick Grimes care whether other people like him well enough?”

Rick doesn’t respond, just keeps watching you.

Daryl follows Rick’s gaze, then breathes out a low sigh.

“She is a pretty little thing, ain’t she?”

“That is not what this is about.”

Daryl levels him with a look. “Sure it’s not.“

“She’s half my age. I could damn well be her father.”

“But ya ain’t.”

“That isn’t the point.”

“Then what is the point, Rick?” Daryl sighs again, crossing his arms. “Either do something about it or move on. You got too many people dependin’ on ya for you to be eyeing up flighty young girls.”

Rick rolls his shoulders. “You make me out to be such a creep.”

The other man claps him on the shoulder. “Then stop acting like one.”

He attempts to take Daryl’s advice to heart. It’s an annoying truth that Daryl always knows exactly what Rick needs to hear. Not necessarily what he wants to hear, but what needs to be said.

And he is being creepy. He shakes his head as he walks away. Watching you, thinking about you. He can’t. That’s— you’re too young to be thinking any kind of thing like that.

No matter how there’s this half second, before you look scared, where you almost look relieved. No matter how he wants to personally take care of the bumps and scrapes on your face, wants to take off the bandaids and examine what’s beneath them.

Daryl was right. He needs to focus. Carl, Judith, everyone- they need him.

You’ll be fine. He’ll be fine.

—

You’ve gone missing.

Rick has been doing his best to heed Daryl’s advice— he stopped looking for you in the crowds, stopped trying to figure you out, stopped watching you from afar. He even made a fairly decent attempt to stop thinking about you. Not that the effort proves especially fruitful, but he tried, damnit.

All of those efforts go straight out the window when Daryl tells him that no one’s seen you since yesterday.

It takes him two seconds to grab his gun and follow Daryl out the door.

He barely remembers to tell Carl where he’s going, which scares him, because he doesn’t quite understand what’s been so invasive to his mind and day-to-day activities about you. Your eyes, the soft curve of your cheek, how you might feel in his hands.

They cloud his judgment. Make him do stupid reckless things like search Alexandria high and low for any sign of you.

He doesn’t find any. He searches the place you’re staying— nothing. Only sign of life is the unmade bed and bandaid wrappers in the trashcan by the bed.

He sighs deep and low as he stands over your bed. “Think she had enough? High-tailed it?”

Daryl leans against the doorway. “Nah. She likes it here well enough. She ain’t stupid enough to leave a good thing like this.”

He raises an eyebrow. “You’ve spoken to her?”

Daryl shrugs. “Few times. She don’t like talkin’ too much, but I think she figures her and I similar.”

“She wrong?”

He scratches his beard. “A little. She fears situations and people the way a prey animal does. S’ why she’s a runner.”

Rick mulls Daryl’s words over as they scan the rest of the place but, of course, find nothing. There are no signs that you, specifically, live here. Nothing personal. Just the unmade bed and the bandaid wrappers in the trashcan.

The pair of them turn the entirety of Alexandria over in a matter of hours. He’s just about to call it quits, either wait for you to come back or send out a search in the morning when Daryl comes back over, telling him you’re at the gates.

As in, outside of them.

Opposite of how things went when you first showed up at the gates, people clear a path as he stalks towards you. They give the pair of you a nice, wide bubble. Even Daryl stays a few feet behind him.

The first thing he notices is that you’re covered in blood. From the way you’re holding yourself, most of it isn’t your own. There’s a backpack slung over your shoulder, but it’s not your usual one.

You won’t meet his eyes.

He stops an arms length away from you. “Where the hell were you?”

You shift backwards, away from him ever so slightly. “Scavenging.”

“Mhm, interestin’,” He says, rubbing his jaw, “Because the last scavenging party was yesterday. And you came back with everybody, so I’ll ask again. Where were you.”

Your eyes flick up from the ground for a moment, eying the people that have gathered to stare. He watches you mentally count them all, then attempt to put more distance between yourself and everybody else. Emphasis on attempt, because the second you take a step back, you stumble, wincing before righting yourself and going right back to scanning the crowd.

He works his jaw, anger and annoyance simmering just under the surface of his skin. He’s not going to get anything out of you here.

He grabs your wrist and turns, set in the direction of the medics.

He drags you along behind him, ignoring the little huffs or sharp intakes of pain when you walk a little too hard or too fast on your bad ankle.

You trip a few times as you go, and when you almost take Rick down with you, he sighs, pausing and turning.

The expression you give him is full of fear. He realizes, in the moment, that you might not remember where the medics are, so as far as you know, he’s angry at you and dragging you to a secluded area.

Guilt strikes him hard and fast, right in his chest.

Damn.

It’s too early to feel guilty about the random girl he allowed into Alexandria. Frightened eyes and shy nature aside.

He shakes his head once. “We’re going to see a doctor. Here, put your arm around me.”

He has to lower himself a little for you to drape your arm across the back of his neck. Your fingertips brush his shoulder, and he can feel the way you’re shaking.

It’s slow going from then on, with Rick acting as your crutches.

“Where were you? And don’t bullshit me.”

“Scavenging.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes,” You nudge the backpack still strapped to your back. “I was… looking for something. I can’t look for it with the others.”

“What the hell is it that you can’t look for it with the others?”

“A body.”

Your response hangs in the air, thick and heavy.

“…Family or friend?”

“Friend. Haven’t found her yet.”

Something clicks into place in his mental file about you. He feels like he just gained a new piece of the puzzle.

He readjusts your weight over his shoulder, tucking you a little closer and steadfastly pretending he doesn’t hear the little gasp you let out at the contact. Whether it was from pain or surprise, he can’t let himself think about it.

“Don’t go out by yourself. If you need to look, take Daryl with you.”

You sag a bit into him. “Okay.”

He glances down at you from the corner of his eye. You’re… pliant. You’d agreed quickly, and showed absolutely no fight or unwillingness when he, admittedly, manhandled you. You’d followed dutifully behind him and then simply allowed him to position your arms the way he wanted them.

There’s another little parasite that burrows into his brain right there. Right as he’s got you in his grip.

He slows to a stop, a little question forming in his head. He slips the arm that had been wrapped around your waist away, instead curls his fingers across your chin and jaw. He tilts your head up, looks down at your face, searching it for… something.

He meets no resistance. You only stare up at him, doe eyes blinking. He tilts your head to the left, then to right, and still, nothing.

Huh.

He lets go, and you shudder, a full body shiver. And he thinks, in this moment, that he could do whatever he wanted, and you might let him. He could break you, like this.

It’s a very dangerous thing, he decides. Because he doesn’t want to break you. He doesn’t want to hurt you. He wants to peel back the bandaids and see what’s under them. He wants to scrub the dirt from your face and give you soft clothes —his clothes— not those tattered rags that hang off your body.

You might let him do whatever he wants, but you’re the one who holds this power over him. You’re the one who made him sick— filled his head and clouded his judgement and made him the kind of man he never used to be.

But he can’t say any of that. Can’t even act on it. Not with someone young enough to be his daughter. He has a daughter for Christ’s sake. And a son.

So he just wraps his arm back around your waist and helps you to the medics.

—

“Rick,” Daryl says one afternoon, leaned on the post on the porch, “You’re drivin’ me crazy, here.”

“I’m not sure how I’m supposed to help with that.”

“The fawn.”

He raises an eyebrow. “The fawn?”

“You know. That nervous little thing you keep pretendin’ you don’t want in your bed.”

“Daryl.”

The man just keeps fiddling with his crossbow. “What?”

“I can’t just— she’s half my age.”

“So you’ve said.”

“I got kids to think about, and—“

“Carl don’t give a shit and Judith is ten. Only thing she’s concerned about is sneakin’ sweets.”

He entertains the notion in his head, thinks about what pursuing you might be like.

Something occurs to him.

“She ever get close to you?”

“No,” Daryl huffs, always knowing exactly what Rick means, “Keeps about an arm’s distance away. No matter what. She’s been inchin’ closer recently, but not by much.”

His hand on your face, moving it this way and that without any resistance at all, your body pliant in his grip—

“Hm,” Is all Rick says, crossing his arms.

“Why fawn?”

Daryl shrugs. “Looks like one. Kinda acts like one, around you.”

“No she doesn’t.”

Daryl levels him with a look. “Yes, she does. And based on the way you’ve been actin’, you like it.”

He opens his mouth to refute the point because no, he doesn’t like it, he just constantly thinks about how far he could take it, what you would let him do, if he could make you his.

And then he thinks ‘oh.’ Maybe he does like it.

He drops his hands to his hips. “What exactly am I supposed to do, then?”

“I don’t know. Ain’t my area of expertise.”

“You’re the one who knows her better, said I was drivin’ you crazy.”

“So? I don’t know jack shit about romance, Rick.”

“Well, you keep calling her a fawn. How different can it be?”

Very different, his mind supplies. You know that.

Now it’s Daryl’s turn to sigh. “Don’t overwhelm her. She’s a nervous little thing, but she likes you. Once she figures out you ain’t gonna hurt her, she’ll latch on.”

“That’s specific. You deal with fawns a lot?”

He snorts. “No. I’m fuckin’ guessin’ here.”

The two men fall into silence, Daryl fiddling or cleaning his bow— Rick ain’t paying that much attention to him.

He’s thinking about you. You, you, you. Your eyes and your face and your hands and the figure you carefully keep hidden under layers of clothing, even under the hot Virginia sun.

Fawn, he thinks to himself.

Fitting.

—

He doesn’t make a plan or something stupid like that. He just thinks. And then he decides.

“You’re really coming with us?” Glenn asks, pack slung over his shoulder.

“Yep,” Rick says, holstering his gun, “Goin’ stir crazy in there. Just needa get out for a bit.”

You’re quiet as you get your things in order, but the group doesn’t bat an eye. They’re used to your silence, it seems.

You can’t seem to tear your eyes away from him, though. You look away every time you think he’s looking at you, but he’s good at looking at you out of the corner of his eye, so he sees it.

Throughout the run, you hover near him, never quite going out of range of his field of vision. He’s impressed by how quietly and efficiently you work- you spot things even he wouldn’t have. All the while watching for walkers, and of course, subtly eyeing Rick.

Despite being the leader, he heads up the back and watches for stragglers. He didn’t really come out cause he was stir-crazy, anyway.

He came out for you. He wanted to watch you work, wanted to do it with you.

To your credit, you work well with the others. You’re a woman of few words with them, but you help where you can and stay civil. Even if you don’t quite get close to any of them.

Except Rick.

As they’re scavenging an abandoned house, a few walkers shuffle out from the trees. Not enough to be a problem— the group outnumbers them easy. But you’re all busy getting supplies and he’s trying to keep an eye out, so he takes them out, one by one.

It really isn’t a huge thing for him, couple walkers ain’t really a big deal, but you notice.

Your eyes are trained on him, clothes now dirty with blood and gore.

He tilts his head, then makes his way over to you.

“You, um,” You say as he gets closer, voice a little hoarse, “Are you alright?”

He runs a hand through his hair. “I’m fine. It’ll take more than a few walkers to take me out.”

You blink. “Oh.”

He snorts a little laugh. “You ain’t too good at this whole conversation thing, huh?”

You flush, looking away. “Sorry. I’m just not… used to having them.”

You look up at him, earnest. “But I’ve been practicing!”

Oh, lord have mercy over his poor soul. You’ve done a full 180– turned from being afraid of him to very obviously wanting his approval.

“That’s good, that’s good. Who you been practicin’ with?”

“Daryl.”

“Now, that ain’t no good.”

You frown, shifting in place. “It’s not?”

“Well, it’s good that you’re tryin’,” He amends, “But Daryl ain’t good for conversation practicin’. He’s a little too much like you. Much too inclined to just sit in silence.”

“Oh.”

You pause, taking your lip between your teeth and mulling something over in your head.

“Would you, um.” You look up at him, clearly nervous.

And he can’t help himself really, from leaning down into your space a bit, a low “Hmm?” humming from his chest.

Your reaction is instant. This close, he can see the exact moment a flush crawls across your face, to even the tips of your ears.

And he’d suspected, you know, based on your behavior with him. But this— cold hard evidence that he makes you nervous. That you want him on you.

It’s cute. Real cute.

You steel yourself against your own nervousness, and he wants to coo at you.

“Would you practice with me?”

He leans back against the post, slides his hands into his pockets. “Course. Ain’t much to it.”

You smile. It’s small, a quiet sort of thing, but it’s there. He made you smile.

You gesture to the house behind you. “I’m. Gonna go back to scavenging. Um. Thanks.”

You turn on your heel, fleeing back into the house. He watches you go, something settling right into place in his chest.

You stick a little closer to him for the rest of the run.

—

After that day, you begin seeking him out. You don’t approach him right away, preferring to to trail behind him for a little bit before finally making a move.

The move being a quiet: “Hi, Rick.”

Today’s no different, other than it being a little later when you do find him. He’s taking a little stroll around, as is his usual. It… settles him, to see everything alright with his own two eyes.

Settles him even more when he hears the quiet patter of your footsteps behind him.

He chuckles. “Afternoon, darlin’.”

Your foot steps speed up, fall into step somewhat beside him. “Hi, Rick.”

“Hi,” He says, smile tugging at his lips. “How was your day?”

You clasp your hands behind your back as you walk. “Good. Weren’t many walkers on today’s run. I got something for Judith.”

“Oh? Let’s see it, then.”

You take something out of your pocket and hold it out to him.

It’s a pocket knife. One of those multi-tool ones.

And it’s pink.

“I know it’s a cliche, the girls knife being pink, and she is only ten, but I saw it and I thought of her, and—“

“It’s perfect,” He interrupts before you can start spiraling. “She’s gonna love it.”

You deflate almost instantly. “Oh, good. I wasn’t sure.”

You walk for a few minutes before remembering the point of you coming up to him.

“Um. How was your day?”

He huffs a little, too fond to be upset. “Fairly decent. Ain’t got too much going on now.”

“That’s… good?”

He shrugs. “Just a little borin’. How’s that ankle of yours?”

This is usually how your conversations go. A few easy, back and forth questions. Easing you into talking to people, keeping conversations going. You’ve slowly gotten more confident. You talk a little longer, voice sounds a little more expressive.

“Fine.” You say, a little too quickly.

He narrows his eyes. “Really? No pain at all?”

It’s the looking away that sells it. You never look at him when you’re lying. Can’t stand to.

“No. It’s fine.”

He kicks his foot out a little, the toe of his boot just barely catching your ankle.

It’s a little more effective than he wanted. You let out a little yelp of pain and stumble forward, ankle almost immediately buckling.

He darts forward, catching you under the stomach with one arm.

You hang there a little, arms dangling.

“Fine, huh?” He hefts you up, so you’re back to standing upright, though now, visibly favoring your ankle. “So what’d the doctor tell you when I dropped you off?”

“Rest, ice, compression, and elevation.”

“And which of those four have you been ignorin’?”

“…”

“Hey,” He says, tapping the side of your jaw with two fingers. “Don’t lie to me.”

“All of them,” You wince, “I just didn’t want to be useless. I can walk on it fine. You haven’t even noticed until now!”

Your voice goes a little high at the end, a little desperate.

He thinks about how animals that are lower on the food rung don’t show pain. A deer will break a leg and keep walking until it drops, till it slows too much and something picks it off.

But you ain’t an animal, and nothing’s gonna pick you off.

“That’s true,” He says, “But that don’t make it right. You’re just prolonging the healing process.”

You look down. “…You were mad. I didn’t want to make you more upset by being useless.”

Ah. So that’s what it’s all about.

His approval, once again.

“I’d rather have you useless for a week than useless forever because you didn’t rest properly,” He ignores the hypocrisy of it, the fact that he’s ignored medical advice more times than he can count.

“I really am fine, mostly,” You say meekly, “It’s stopped hurting when I walk. It’s just a little unstable.”

“I still want you taking it easy for a little, you hear me?”

You nod.

“Nah,” He moves, standing in front of you, more than a little in your personal space, “I wanna hear you say it. Use your words.”

It’s a little test of sorts. To see how you’ll respond. What you’ll say. If you’ll listen.

You swallow, eyelashes fluttering. “I hear you. I understand.”

“What are you gonna do?”

“Take it easy.”

“That’s right,” You’ve been nice and obedient, so he figures you deserve a little reward. “Good girl.”

He hears your sharp intake of breath, watches your eyes get a little glassy.

Aw, that’s all you wanted. Just wanted to be someone’s good girl.

His good girl.

He nods towards your place. “Get along, now. Do I have to walk you to your door?”

“No,” you shake your head. “I’ll go. I will. Uh— bye.”

He watches you scamper away, gait a little uneven, hands clenched at your sides.

I can get used to this.

—

It becomes a little thing, after that.

When you’re not busy with your own responsibilities, you’re usually with him. Either right beside him, or trailing a few feet behind. Your company is quiet and calm, like waves from a lake lapping gently at the shore.

You also begin to settle in with the rest of the group. You’re still more inclined to be near Rick or, if he’s not available, Daryl, but once you become comfortable talking with people, Maggie and Glenn are quickly added to your slowly growing roster of safe people.

Judith has loved you ever since she found out that you’re the one who gave her the most beloved pink pocket knife, and enjoys babbling and talking your ear off about nothing the way that ten year olds do.

Carl grows to appreciate your presence too, finding solace in the fact that you don’t feel the need to fill silence with conversation.

You still act different when Rick is around, though. Especially when it’s just the two of you.

With everybody else, you’re subtly but very strictly independent- despite growing close with the group, you still maintain a slight distance with most of them, and prefer doing things yourself, by yourself. Old habits die hard, he supposes.

But when you’re alone, just Rick and you, those hard edges soften, and your little personal bubble pops. He’s steadily growing obsessed with the change.

He’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy it. Having such a cute little thing follow him around, hanging off his words. Most days, it’s all he can do not to throw you over his shoulder and carry you to bed.

And then one day, he does. Kind of.

It must be the middle of the night, but the second he hears the knock at his door, he’s wide awake.

He hushes both Carl and Judith back to bed, then creeps to the front door with his hand on his gun. He has never, in his entire life, been awoken in the middle of the night to good news.

When he opens the door he sees you. And Daryl, but he’s really focused on you. You’ve got tears streaming down your face, you’re wearing a strange combination of sleep clothes and the clothes he’s seen you wear to do runs. Your boots are on, but not tied.

“Wha—“

“Caught her sneaking towards the gates, all shaken up. Figured it’d be wiser to take her here then back to her place.”

Daryl pats your head once. “Don’t do anythin’ stupid.”

Then Daryl’s gone, and you’re standing on Rick’s porch, still crying.

“Alright, come here now.”

He barely manages to get the door closed before you fall into him, face pressed to his chest and hands grasping the front of his shirt.

He hesitates for just a moment before wrapping his arms around you.

“Shh, shh. You’re alright, you’re alright now.”

He presses one hand to the nape of your neck, keeping you tucked close as you crack, just a little bit, nearly silent tears staining his shirt and tremors wracking your body.

Eventually, he guides you over to the couch, situates himself before helping you into a more comfortable position. He wraps your arms around his neck, your legs draped across his lap and the couch.

He keeps one hand pressed to your neck, the other rubbing slow circles on your back.

He presses his cheek to the crown of your head, breathing in deep and slow, a curl of satisfaction rising in his chest when you unconsciously mimic his breathing, silent sobs slowing, tremors fading.

Once you’ve calmed down enough, he speaks.

“What’s got you so worked up, huh? What happened sweetheart?”

The pet name slips out of his mouth unbidden, but honestly, he wouldn’t take it back.

“Nightmare,” You sniffle. “Daryl was gone and it was my fault and you hated me.”

“Well, none of that happened now, did it?”

You shake your head.

“No, that’s right. Daryl’s just fine, and I ain’t upset with you. You’re alright.”

You take in a few shaky, shuddering breaths.

He shifts, readjusting and tucking you closer to him. “Now, how come you didn’t come to me? Daryl said you were headin’ to the gates.”

You go a little rigid. “Didn’t think I was allowed. Didn’t want to wake you up for something stupid.”

“Oh, none of that now,” He nudges you away a little, taking your face in his hands. He needs eye-contact while he says this, “You need something, you come to me. I don’t care what it is, I don’t care what time it is. You come to me, you understand?”

You nod, lip wobbling a bit. “I understand.”

He thumbs your cheekbone. “Good. Now come on. Let’s get you back to bed.”

In the morning, the kids are a little surprised to see your rumpled form at the kitchen table, but both recover fairly quickly. Judith especially, who rejoices at the prospect of someone other than Carl or her father whom she can hold hostage with inane, ten year old questions.

But you never quite shake that haunted look in your eyes. Like there was something else— something more in that nightmare, something that dug its little claws in and stuck fast.

It’s all he can do but pray it doesn’t last.

—

It becomes an unspoken thing that wherever Rick is, you’re nearby. Kind of like a little puppy, following him about and hoping for a treat.

He indulges you, because he can’t really help himself in the face of those eyes.

He also knows it’s the easiest way to get you to smile, which he’s been trying to bring about more, since the nightmare. You’ve shaken that haunted expression for the most part, but every now and then, it’ll come back, if just for a few moments.

You’ve been absent most of the day today, off on a run, and he wishes it didn’t get under his skin so much to not have his favorite girl right there behind him.

You’re his stress relief, and you don’t even know it. Don’t even do anything really, just kind of linger about with your adorable little face and occasionally help with your cute little hands. He’s hopelessly obsessed.

You’re smiling when you get back, bee-lining straight for him.

“Well, well,” He says, resting his hands on his hips, “What do we have here?”

“I got you something,” You say, practically vibrating with excitement, slinging your backpack off and rifling through it.

“Oh, something for me? Can’t wait to see it.”

You pull an honest to god polaroid camera out of your bag.

“You said once that you wished you had pictures of your kids to carry with you, and I found this, and it still works, and it still has film in it. I checked.”

You thrust it out to him, and he extracts it carefully from your hands, holding it with an almost reverence.

A camera. A working film camera.

You shuffle in place, and he realizes he’s been staring at it in silence for more than a few minutes. “…Do you like it?”

“I love it,” He says honestly, voice just a little scratchy, because he doesn’t understand how someone can survive the zombie apocalypse, and still end up so damn kind, and so damn sweet. “I’m so touched, sweetheart.”

You beam up at him. If you had a tail, you’d be wagging it. He’s never understood cuteness aggression until this very moment. He just can’t. He wants to squeeze you as hard as he can or just punch a wall or some stupid shit.

God, he’s pushing forty, he needs to get this under control.

“I was really excited when I found it. Tara took a picture of me to test it.”

You pull out a little polaroid picture, film developed, and he takes that with reverence too. In the picture, you’re smiling, that same soft, little smile you do when you’re really happy about something and don’t know how to express it. Your hands show two peace signs, a knife clutched in one.

That’s my girl, he thinks.

“Might just have to keep this,” He says, dumb smile on his face.

“Really?”

“Really. You know, it’s good luck to keep a picture of a pretty girl with you.”

“Pretty?” You squeak, flushing. It’s so easy to make you flustered. He loves it.

“Mhm,” He says, tucking the photo into one of the compartments on his belt, keeping it safe. “Real pretty, I’d say.”

“Oh.” You say, more than a little breathless. “Um.”

Oh, your poor little brain.

“You need a minute?” He snorts.

“Maybe?”

He chuckles, patting the top of your head. “Oh, you’ll be fine. Better get used to it.”

“You’re pretty too,” You blurt, then your eyes widen comically. “No, wait, I meant—“

He laughs, a real, actual laugh. “Me, a grown ass man- pretty. That’s a good one.”

You bury your face in your hands, a tiny little whine escaping your throat.

“Aw, come on, now. Don’t be embarrassed. I’m very flattered you think I’m pretty.”

“S’ not what I meant.” You mumble.

“No?” He says, prying your hands off your face. “What’d you mean, then?”

You look away, unable to meet his eyes.

“You’re… handsome.” You whisper the last part, barely loud enough for him to hear.

“Aw, what’d I do to deserve a young thing like you thinking an old man like me is handsome?”

You mumble something again, a little too quiet for him to hear.

“…afe.”

He leans down. “What was that, now?”

“You’re safe.”

Oh.

That’s… not the answer he was expecting.

But he likes it.

Rick is a leader. A protector.

And you need him.

“I make you feel safe?” He hums, resisting the urge to step closer to you because you’re very much out in the open and he knows how you feel about wide open spaces, especially when there’s people in them. He’s torturing you enough as it is. “That why you linger around me, huh?”

Feeling bolder at his interest, you nod.

“You make me feel like… something special. Protected.”

Yes.

He’s always known that he needs to be needed. That he’s the kind of man who requires being a leader, taking care of what’s his, protecting.

To have verbal confirmation that he’s made you feel safe, protected, it’s.

Well it’s a lot more than he can unpack in front of the gates.

“Pretty little thing like you needs protectin’.”

You frown.

“Not because you’re incapable,” He amends, hands raised, “But because I rather like doing it.”

You lean closer, and he follows, heat rising—

“Please, save us all the pain of havin’ to watch, Rick.”

He grins, nose brushing yours, then steps back.

“Maybe stop creepin’ around, Daryl.” He calls to the other man, who just shrugs, ambling on by.

But Daryl does have a point. He doesn’t want an audience. You’re not that kind of girl.

Instead, he reaches down, snakes an arm around your waist and leads you away from the open space, towards his house instead.

“Come on, sweetheart. Think you’d rather be somewhere quiet for what I’m about to do.”

The heat radiating from your body and the shiver he feels under his palm is all the confirmation he needs.

His little fawn, finally his.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

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barrenclan · 17 days ago

Text

Alone in the middle of a desolate wasteland, BarrenClan is a hardy and irritable group of cats. They have lived there for generations, and eke out survival in this unforgiving land. But one of their new apprentices, the bold and curious Pinepaw, is determined to discover the terrible truths buried under the sand, as well as rise to meet the changes coming to his Clan.

"Pinepaw and the Forgotten World" was a Warriors-inspired illustrated prose comic that ran on this blog from September 2022 - February 2025. As it is currently completed, this blog will contain MAJOR spoilers for the comic. If you are a new reader, please use the "Next" link below to be taken to the cover of this project. You can also read a mirror of the project on ComicFury, linked below. Navigational tags and other information are tagged below on this post as well.

Next >

ComicFury mirror

Yes, you have my permission to use a style and/or format inspired by this comic for your own projects.

This comic is not based on the text-based game ClanGen/LifeGen. It was based off the Clan Generator challenge, which you can see in this video.

Helpful tags for navigating this blog (click on the search icon):

#issue: a list of all the completed issues. Use this tag to only see issues of the comic.

#reference: reference sheets for the characters.

#lore: background information about the world of the comic.

#extra art: drawings I create outside of the comic itself.

#fanart: drawings other people have made for the comic.

Allegiances: Family Tree (spoilers)

PATFW Discord: https://discord.gg/y3hAGVbfUK

PATFW Playlist: Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0GZWVmucv2DvA4H7uLwquk (Song Guide)

YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLwTmUrr_9zUlCvQijucEkukNtiRpwktqs

Complete masterpost of issues, underneath Keep Reading link:

Issue 1 - Dry Heat and Cracked Earth

Issue 2 - I’ve Never Heard That Name Before

Issue 3 - Stupid Little Kit Daydreams

Issue 4 - It’s Just Like Falling Asleep

Issue 5 - Smoke and Ash and Fire and Salt and Blood

Issue 6 - Healers Hear All The Secrets

Issue 7 - Foxholes Bite Back

Issue 8 - Do You Really Think That’s Your Destiny?

Issue 9 - It’s Only a Deer

Issue 10 - What Was That Now, Dear?

Issue 11 - We’re Held Together By Spiderweb

Issue 12 - The Shining Towns

Issue 13 - To Kill Is Right. To Kill Is Good. To Kill Is To Live.

Issue 14 - The Rotten Stench of Blood

Issue 15 - Was It Something I Did?

Issue 16 - I Bet You Can’t Catch Me

Issue 17 - You Are the Darkness Before the Storm

Issue 18 - I Met Him Under a Warm Dawn

Issue 19 - Kindness for the Dying Is Easy to Spare

Issue 20 - KITTENS! KITTENS! KITTENS!

Issue 21 - Lovebug

Issue 22 - A Favor for a Favor

Issue 23 - Your Voice Was So Soft

Issue 24 - Lost In a Haze

Issue 25 - You Don’t Speak to My Daughter That Way

Issue 26 - My Heart Is Too Heavy to Sleep

Issue 27 - Little Paws Take Little Steps

Issue 28 - Viscera, Shiny in the Light of Day

Issue 29 - We’re Not So Different, You and I

Issue 30 - Time Is a Circle

Issue 31 - Blood

Issue 32 - Cassandra

Issue 33 - Hurt Me! Beat Me! Just Please Don’t Leave Me!

Issue 34 - Sunset Days

Issue 35 - The Death of BarrenClan: Part One

Issue 36 - The Death of BarrenClan: Part Two

Issue 37 - The Death of BarrenClan: Part Three

Issue 38 - The Death of BarrenClan: Part Four

Issue 39 - The Death of BarrenClan: Part Five

Issue 40 - Aftermath

Issue 41 - Oracles

Issue 42 - Our Lasting Legacy

Issue 43 - Farewell, and I Love You

Epilogue 1 - The Last Ruby-Red Drop of Flame

Epilogue 2 - Moth-Soft Murmurings

Epilogue 3 - A Dream, A Nightmare

Epilogue 4 - Sunlight Here and Shadows There

Epilogue 5 - Gold Flowers

Epilogue 6 - Binary Star

Epilogue 7 - While You Were Dead

Epilogue 8 - The Ash of Memory

Epilogue 9 - A Rule of Fear

Epilogue 10 - The Vaster World

#patfw #pinepaw and the forgotten world #extra art

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keeryhours · 3 months ago

Text

toxic - rafe cameron

Baby daddy! Rafe x Baby mama! Maybank! Reader

Masterlist

Rafe Cameron Masterlist

More Baby daddy! Rafe

Summary:

A prequel to my Baby daddy! Rafe series exploring their toxic relationship.

Warnings:

(18+) Major toxicity (seriously, a very toxic relationship), fighting, gaslighting, not smut but one smutty part, p in v, oral (f receiving), about a million uses of “fuck”, drinking, drug use (weed and coke), drunk driving (seriously never do that), pregnancy

Word Count: 3.7k

A/N:

Rafe and reader have done a lot of growing since this time in their relationship, so be prepared for serious toxicity. This one could be a bit heavy. I was heavily inspired by a scene from Smile 2 lol

tag list (let me know if you want to be added to any taglists!)

@sabrina-carpenter-stan-account

—

Being in a relationship with Rafe was…intense.

It had been many long years of crushing on him before you got together. Lingering looks during sleepovers with Sarah, touches when you’d pass in the hall, late night talks when you couldn’t sleep.

When you started hooking up, you were happy, but also felt terrible. You felt like you were betraying your best friend and your twin brother in one go - and maybe you were. But the way Rafe made you feel was like nothing you’d experienced before. The way he made you come alive under his touch, the way he’d give you orgasm after orgasm when you were in bed together, the way he felt inside you. The way he’d hold your hand when no one was looking, or place a hand on your back when walking around you in the kitchen of the Cameron house.

At night, during sleepovers after Sarah had gone to sleep, you’d sneak out of her room and into Rafe’s. This night was no exception. As you cracked his bedroom door open, you saw him lounging on his bed in nothing but a pair of grey sweatpants, hanging low on his hips.

“Hey, baby,” he greeted, a relaxed yet cocky smile on his handsome face.

“Hi,” you had greeted shyly, slipping into the room and closing the door behind you. Rafe held out a hand, beckoning you to join him on the bed. And how could you refuse?

You were dressed in your pajamas, short shorts and a tank top. There was a chill in the air, sending goosebumps across your skin as you crossed his room towards his bed. Rafe grabbed your hips as you reached him, pulling you down onto the bed next to him. You squealed, laughing as he kissed you deeply.

“So fucking sexy,” he commented, hands roaming your body immediately. “All mine.”

And you were his. Wholeheartedly. You would do anything for him, anything he asked. You may have been a little obsessed.

It didn’t take Rafe long to have you naked, his face between your legs. After he was satisfied he’d made you cum enough times, he was pushing those sweatpants down and entering you, fucking you hard and fast, just the way he liked it.

You had tried to be quiet, but it was hard when his cock was hitting so deep inside you, and the way he’d bend your body to his liking as he fucked you had your head spinning. Rafe would cover your mouth with his large hand - “Shh, baby girl, you don’t want the whole house to hear us, do you?” While burying his quiet grunts in the crook of your neck.

You had been so wrapped up in how Rafe was making you feel that you didn’t hear Sarah calling your name from the hall. Neither of you even heard the soft knock at his bedroom door.

“Rafe? Have you seen - oh!”

You practically shrieked as you saw Sarah standing in the doorway in shock, her jaw dropped as she took in the scene before her. You grabbed the blankets and covered your naked chest, but Rafe didn’t seem bothered.

“Get the fuck out!”

Sarah did just that, closing the door tightly behind her. When she was gone, Rafe wasted no time getting back to it, thrusting into you quickly, back to using you to chase his high.

“Rafe-“

“It’s fine.”

You tried your best to push Sarah out of your head. When Rafe finished, he pulled out of you, disposing of the condom. He opened the window then collapsed onto the bed next to you, muscular chest covered in a sheen of sweat.

“Do you think she’s mad?” You asked, feeling anxious that you had just fucked up the best friendship you’d ever had.

“What?” Rafe reached into his bedside table, pulling out an already rolled joint and sparking it up. The pungent smoke filled the room.

“Sarah?”

“What about her?”

“Rafe.”

Rafe took two long drags from the joint before passing it to you. You took it, bringing it to your own lips.

“Look, I’m sure it’s fine,” Rafe said, looking completely uninterested in the topic.

You weren’t so sure. You dreaded having to face Sarah after that, but after the two of you had finished the joint, you redressed and left his room, slipping down the hall and back into Sarah’s room. She was sitting on her bed, playing on her phone. She looked up as you walked in.

“Uh…hey,” you said awkwardly, moving to sit next to her on the bed like you always did.

“Hey,” she said, equally as awkward. You both sat there in an uncomfortable silence.

Finally, you spoke up again. “Listen, I-“

“Look, I don’t really care if you want to hook up with Rafe,” she said. “I just…just, be careful with him, okay?”

You furrowed your brow. “What do you mean?”

She looked at you incredulously. “You know how he is. He’s always leaving girls high and dry. I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”

You weren’t stupid enough to think you were an exception, but at the same time…you wanted to think he felt differently about you. You weren’t sure what this would mean for your relationship now that Sarah knew, but you hoped for the best.

The next day, Rafe asked you to be his girlfriend.

“It’s out now,” he had said simply, “And I want to show my girl off.”

JJ had not been happy. He didn’t talk to you for weeks. It broke your heart, because you had always been close with your twin brother. You felt like the worst sister in the world.

“Rafe Cameron? Of all people?” he had said, huffing a disbelieving laugh. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

“He’s good to me, Jay-“

“Oh, he’s good to you? Did you forget how he’s treated me and our friends for all these years?” He shook his head. “I seriously can’t believe you.”

“You’ve got to let me make my own decisions-“

“Yeah, well you’re making really shitty ones.”

Things with Rafe were honestly amazing at first. He doted on you, took you everywhere. Spoiled the hell out of you. He would give you his card and tell you to buy whatever you wanted. He would take you on fancy dates. He loved having you on his arm, anywhere he went. You weren’t particularly fond of his friends, but as you got to know them, you realized they weren’t so bad. And they loved having you around, too.

Sarah actually liked you and Rafe together. It made him less of an asshole when you were with him. She thought you were exactly what he needed - someone softer, someone he loved.

It wasn’t long before things changed.

Rafe never cheated, but he was flirty. You would catch him talking to other girls in a way that made you uncomfortable, and when you’d confront him about it, he’d act like you were crazy.

“What, I can’t talk to any other girls?” He’d said, rolling his eyes. “That’s fucking ridiculous.”

“You’re not just talking, you’re flirting!”

“I am not flirting!” he threw his hands up, exasperated. “You’re being so crazy right now, you know that?”

“I’m being crazy?” you laughed. “You don’t just compliment other girls and tell them they look good when you have a girlfriend, Rafe.”

“Why the fuck not? Am I supposed to lie?”

“How about just don’t say anything about their appearance at all?” It was your turn to roll your eyes. “You don’t have any respect for me, Rafe.”

Rafe scoffed. “You’re so fucking dramatic.”

Days later, Rafe was picking you up from your college classes. You were headed out of the building, backpack on and extra books in your arms. You could see Rafe leaning against his truck waiting for you, which made you smile.

“Hey, wait up!”

You turned around to see a friend from your class, Jake. You were often paired together for group projects, which was the case with the current one. You smiled as he approached. “Hey, what’s up?”

“I just wanted to check your notes if that’s okay?” he said. “Since I came into class late, I just want to make sure I didn’t miss anything important.”

“Oh, sure.” You pulled your binder from the stack of books in your arms, opening it to the day’s notes and handing it to him. He scanned over it for a minute, before handing it back.

“Thanks. I’ll see you tomorrow in the library at 2 to work on the project, yeah?”

“Yeah, of course.” You gave him one last smile, eyes darting to Rafe to see him standing with his arms crossed. “See you then!”

You began walking towards the truck. The closer you got, you could see that Rafe did not look happy. You felt dread in the pit of your stomach. When you approached the car, he opened the door for you without a word, his jaw clenched tight. You climbed in, dreading whatever was to come.

Rafe climbed into the driver’s seat. “Who was that?”

“Just a guy from my class. We have a project together.”

“Why were you talking to him?”

You looked at him with your eyebrows raised. “He needed to see my notes.”

“He can’t take his own notes?” Rafe started the truck, still not looking at you.

“He was just late to class, he wanted to see what he missed.”

“Sounds like a him problem.”

You rolled your eyes. “It wasn’t any trouble to let him look at my notes for a minute.”

“I don’t want you talking to him anymore.”

You laughed, looking at him like he was out of his mind. “Rafe. He’s my project partner. I can’t just not talk to him.”

“Get a new partner.”

“That’s ridiculous. What’s your problem with him anyway? You don’t even know the guy.”

“I saw the way he looked at you.” Rafe pulled out of the parking lot, beginning to drive back to his place.

“You’re crazy. He doesn’t look at me any type of way.”

“You have to be blind to not see that he looks at you like he wants to fuck you.” Rafe scoffed. “And you just let him. Do you want him to fuck you? Is that what you want?”

You looked at him like he had grown another head. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Do you want him to fuck you?”

“Rafe, you are being insane right now.”

“Oh, I’m insane?” He looked at you, his eyes shining wildly.

“I said you’re being insane.” You looked out the window as he drove, your day officially ruined. Yet again. “I don’t know what you expect me to do. The professor isn’t just going to let me switch partners for no reason.”

“Then you finish the project, and never talk to him again.”

It wasn’t worth the argument. You rode the rest of the way to Tannyhill in silence.

Things went on like this for months. You argued all the time. Rafe would be too cozy with other girls, then turn around and get mad the second you gave a man the time of day. It really pissed you off.

Things got especially bad one night during a bonfire. You were both completely wasted, and Rafe freaked out when he saw you talking with John B. He stormed over, his face twisted in fury. “We’re leaving.”

He grabbed you by the arm, dragging you to the truck. He was not sober enough to drive at all, but both of you were so wasted you didn’t even care.

You both stumbled your way into the front seats, you nearly falling on the ground attempting to climb in. It took Rafe a couple tries to get the keys in the ignition. He pulled out, nearly hitting a couple other cars in the process.

He pulled a small baggie of white powder from his pocket and handed it to you. “Give me a bump.”

You took the baggie, pouring a little on the back of your hand. You lifted your hand to his nose and he closed one nostril as he sniffed the coke. When you brought your hand back, you poured a little more, snorting it yourself. You scooped the excess on your finger and rubbed it on your gums.

The coke only made Rafe more hyped up. “Why the fuck do you keep talking to other guys in front of me, huh? What are you trying to do?” The truck was swerving on the road, both of you lucky not many cars were out tonight.

“You know John B’s only my friend. We’ve known each other since like 3rd grade.” You were starting to feel the effects of the drugs you’d done tonight, your body buzzing. You pulled your phone out, responding to a text from Sarah.

Sarah: Where did you go? Did you leave?

You: Rafe’smad. We leftt

Sarah: Who’s driving? You’re both wasted

You: Rafe

Sarah: Oh my god, turn around and come back, you can both ride home with me and Top.

“Who are you texting?” Rafe demanded, his voice slurred.

“Sarah,” you answered, not looking up from your phone.

“Yeah right. Give me your fucking phone.”

Rafe reached for it, and you jerked it out of his grasp. The truck swerved wildly on the road before Rafe got it under control again. “Give me the fucking phone!”

“No!” You held it out of his reach. “Can you just focus on the fucking road?”

“I know you’re talking about me. What did you tell them about me, huh?” Rafe finally turned back to the road, barely swerving back into the lane before careening off the turn. “Fucking ridiculous. After all I do for you.”

“You’re so ridiculous. I was texting Sarah. She wanted to know where we went. Why are you always so paranoid?”

Rafe didn’t answer. He kept driving, jaw clenched tight. The muscles in his arms flexed as he held the steering wheel tighter.

“Hey! I’m fucking talking to you!” you yelled.

Rafe reached forward, turning on the car’s radio and blasting his music. He turned it up so loud he couldn’t hear you if he tried.

You smacked the radio’s power button, turning it back off. “Are you fucking kidding me? What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“What the fuck is wrong with me?” Rafe yelled, looking at you with his pupils blown wide. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Why don’t you fucking tell me, huh?!”

“Jesus Christ,” Rafe said. “You are so…so-“

“So, so what? Just fucking say it! Fucking tell me, huh?!”

Rafe smiled, but there was nothing but anger and cruelty behind it. He shook his head, before turning to you and getting in your face. “You’re a fucking bitch. A psycho fucking bitch!”

“Oh yeah? I’m fucking psycho?”

“Yeah, baby! It’s out now, isn’t it? You’re a crazy fucking bitch!”

The coke had your adrenaline running high. Your body buzzed with anger. You pushed his shoulder, causing him to swerve even harder. “Yeah? You want to see crazy? I’ll show you crazy! I’ll show you fucking crazy!”

“Stop!” he yelled, fighting off your hands. “You’re fucking psycho! Jesus fucking Christ, I’m fucking driving!”

“How’s that for crazy, huh?!”

“That’s plenty fucking crazy, you psycho. Back the fuck up!”

“I fucking HATE YOU!” you yelled, tears streaming down your face.

“Good!” Rafe said, turning to get in your face again. “Good! Because I fucking hate you, too!” He hit the steering wheel and started laughing like a crazy person. “Oh, you bitch. Crazy fucking bitch. Are you gonna cry?”

You just looked at him, tears streaming down your face now. “You’re such a fucking ASSHOLE!”

Rafe still had that cruel smile on his face as he continued laughing. “You look so sloppy when you cry, baby.”

You angrily wiped the tears off your face. “Take me home. ‘m not going home with you.”

“Whatever,” Rafe said. “Just don’t fucking try to call me in the morning.”

Somehow, you and Rafe made it to the house you shared with JJ in one piece. You climbed out of the car, slamming the passenger door shut behind you as you stumbled to the front door. Rafe peeled out of the driveway before you even made it to the porch.

You realized too late that you didn’t have your key, and JJ was still at the bonfire. You slid down against the door, sobbing into your hands. You didn’t know where things had gone so wrong. You didn’t know what had caused this change, but you couldn’t handle it anymore. You couldn’t handle the arguing, the jealousy, the accusations. Tonight was the last straw.

You pulled out your phone, calling your brother.

“Hello?”

“Jay,” you sniffed, from the tears or the coke or both. “I can’t get in. Can you come home?”

“I thought you were spending the night with Rafe. What happened?” You could hear the concern in his voice. “I’m leaving now.”

“We had a fight,” you admitted. “A bad one.”

“Do I need to kick his ass?”

“Maybe.”

“Just…just wait there, okay? I’ll be home as soon as I can.”

That night, JJ came home and found you pathetically crying on the porch. He unlocked the door and scooped you up in his arms like you weighed nothing, carrying you inside. You cried into his chest for a while before you decided all you wanted to do was go to bed at this point.

That wasn’t the end of your relationship with Rafe, surprisingly. And two months later, you found yourself staring at a positive pregnancy test.

You cried your eyes out about it. When you drove to Tannyhill for your planned movie night with Sarah, you still looked like a mess from all the crying you’d done.

“Jesus, what happened?” she asked as she opened the door for you.

You couldn’t bring yourself to tell her the words. You pulled the three positive tests out of your pocket instead. Her jaw dropped open.

“Oh my god.” She leaned in closer. “Rafe’s?”

You nodded.

“Oh, honey.” She pulled you into a hug, letting you cry it out on her shoulder. She rubbed your back soothingly.

“Woah, what’s going on?”

That was the last voice you wanted to hear right now. Rafe was walking through the living room, and had stopped when he saw you crying. You looked up from Sarah’s shoulder, and figured now was the time, whether you wanted it to be or not.

“I need to talk to you.”

Rafe looked concerned. “Okay, yeah. Come up to my room.”

You followed Rafe up the stairs and down the hall to his room. You sat on the edge of his bed while he stood watching you. “You wanna tell me what’s going on?” He clenched his fists. “Do I need to talk to somebody?”

“I’m pregnant, Rafe.”

He stopped cold. His blood felt like ice in his veins. “You’re what?”

“I’m pregnant.” The words felt wrong on your tongue. Like they belonged to someone else.

Rafe laughed. “Yeah, okay. We always use protection. You’re not pregnant.”

You pulled the three tests out again, handing them to him. He stared at you for a moment before he tentatively reached forward, taking them from your hands. He examined the tests, and his hands started shaking. When he looked up at you, there was anger in his eyes.

“Who else have you been fucking?”

That was the last thing you expected him to say. “What?”

“You heard me.”

“No one! God, Rafe, I have never cheated on you! Why do you always accuse me of shit?”

“Because there’s no way this kid is mine!” He ran a hand through his hair. “We used condoms every time.”

“Condoms fail.”

“That’s like a 0.1% chance.”

“I don’t think that’s true, Rafe.”

Rafe shook his head. “We’re not doing this. You’re not going to ruin my life like this.”

“Ruin your life?” You laughed humorlessly. “I’m the one who has to carry, birth, and then raise this baby. I don’t get the option to walk away.”

“You could get an abortion.”

His words stopped you. Sure, that was an option, but it didn’t feel like the one you wanted to make. “I don’t want an abortion.”

Rafe threw his hands up. “Christ, what do you want from me? I’m not ready to be a dad. I don’t want to be a dad.” He sat on the bed, looking dejected. “I wouldn’t be a good one anyway.”

You were quiet for a moment. “Why do you say that?”

He laughed, but there was no joy behind it. “I’m a fucking mess. Our relationship is a mess. I can’t stop with the fucking coke. This whole thing is…it’s not right for a baby.”

You were quiet again as you pondered his words. “Maybe we should break up.”

His head snapped in your direction. “Why?”

“You’re right,” you admitted. “Our relationship isn’t healthy.”

It was Rafe’s turn to be quiet. “What about the baby?”

“We can raise them together without being together.”

Rafe thought about your words. “Is that what you want?”

You didn’t know, to be honest. It felt right, though. You couldn’t bring a baby into this relationship the way it was. “Yeah. I think so.”

He nodded slowly. “Okay. If that’s what you want.”

“Are you going to stick around?”

“For the baby?”

“Yeah.”

Rafe thought again, for a few minutes. You feared the worst when he opened his mouth to speak again. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m sticking around.”

You nodded. “I guess that’s that, then.”

“Yeah. That’s that.”

You left Rafe’s room and joined Sarah back down in the living room for your movie night. You had a hard time focusing on anything other than the baby growing inside you. How could you? You wondered how things would turn out. If Rafe really would stick around. You knew it was time to get sober now, and you hoped Rafe would, too.

Anything else aside, you owed this baby a good life. And you were determined to make that happen. No matter what.

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hxxsxxng · 4 months ago

Text

Do You Believe in Fate? s.jy

「pairing」 : childhoodbestfriend!jake x afab!reader

「synopsis」 : read the preview here

「word count」 : 15.3k

「genre」 : A lot of angst, smut, somewhat fluff, college au

「warnings」 : MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!! cursing, lot of nicknames, mentions of alcohol, consumption of alcohol, hangover, poor mental state, kissing, cuddling, alcoholism, toxic friends (not jake), teasing, crying, begging, distress, groping (consentual), unprotected sex, pulling out, loss of virginity, lowkey size kink, oral (m and f recieving), titty sucking, sharing a bath tub, mentions of hospitalizations, implications of potential death, depression. this is a repost

「authors note」 : i want to thank everyone for motivating me to finish this story and writing this was truly an experience that will effect me as a writer moving forward. i am tagging all of my mutuals so hopefully i could get some feed back! i love every last one of you

「taglist」 : @jakeflvrz - @simhinata - @eternality - @goldenretrieverjakezgirlbaby - @jakesangel - @yjwsgf - @diorsyun-deactivated20241118 - @en-ner-jay - @yeonzzzn - @hoonieesm - @hoonheepretty - @jaysupremacy - @cherry-park - @heeslomll - @alvojake - @taeghi - @dollyyuen - @sumzysworld - @wonsbaer - @simpjay - @sjylouvre - @starboimoon - @blurryriki - @yzzyhee - @sincerelyrki - @hoonven - @heeseungsbm

It was the summer before me and Jake’s junior year of university. We have been working all summer and it’s another other day at the office. Putting in check information for the bank was a lot more boring than I expected . Wake up, go to work, come home, sleep, repeat. There was no time to do anything else. We were always told that if we went to college, we would have a good job. That proved to be wrong.

Both Jake and I are going through college together, though he landed a way better paying job than I did. When it comes to bills, he ends up having to pay more than me, but he swears up and down that it is not a big deal.

I set down my mug. I hear my phone ring. It’s Jake. “Hello?” he should be at work. “Hey Pumpkin, I got out early today, were there any groceries that we needed?”

“Oh, no I can’t think of anything.” “Okay, Stay safe, I will see you later.”

Jake never really got time off of work but when he did, I usually tried to stay out of his hair and let him relax. I just continued to run reports, pretty much twiddling my thumbs until the clock struck 5 and I would make my way out of this hell hole.

Traffic was terrible as usual. A usually 7 minute drive turned into an hour. Days like this I just want to get home and throw all my stuff on the ground and lock myself away in my room. Maybe watch some TV. Or listen to some music while my computer is hooked up to it. Anything that distracts from knowing I have to go back to the job I hate the next day. My thoughts are interrupted by a honk coming from behind me. The light turns green. Thank God. But as soon as I pull away from the curb, a car pulls out in front of me. Damn those stupid drivers. I don’t even know how many times this month I’ve had to pull over so they could let someone pass. It isn’t worth getting into a fight with them about. I try to ignore them.

I made it back to our house just in time for the sun to still be out. I made way into the house and Jake was in the kitchen. It was an unusual sight. His after work routine typically consists of cracking open a cold one and playing his computer. “Hey princess” he greeted me.

I stand at the front door, taking off my shoes and hanging my keys on the rack. “What has you in a good mood all of a sudden” I ask suspiciously.

“Well since I got off work early, I figured i’d come home and suprise you with dinner since you just been eating so much take out recently” he replied nonchalantly. The thought makes me sick. “You didn’t need to do that Jake.” “Oh yes, I did. You haven’t been cooking for yourself for a couple months now. I wanted to show you how much your best friend cares about you” he says.

Reguardless of what I say, the food is made and there is no taking it back. I guess I can’t really argue with him over it.

“And besides, I know you have missed your mom cooking pasta for us when we would go to her house in Australia, I figured I should make some do you instead” he adds.

I slowly approach the table. He is still finishing up plating everything. He looks up at me and smiles. “It smells good” I say flatly. He takes off the oven mitts and wipes his hands on it. He sets my plate down in front of me and he pulls out the chair to my right and takes a seat.

“So how was your day Jake?” I asked awkwardly. He starts digging in and responds, “Not too bad. What about yours?”

“Same shit different day. Boss is always yelling at me and the company keeps treating me like garbage even though I am the only one who actually gives a fuck.” I complained, eating a piece of garlic toast. It tasted good, surprisingly good, considering the amount of spices he used.

“Well I am glad it’s Friday so you can take some time to unwind over the weekend” he attempts to comfort me but at this point i’m too tired.

“I guess.” I poke at my food a little bit. Why does Jake’s job seem so perfect? he easily makes twice as what I make and I rarely hear him complain about working either.

“You don’t have to eat if you don’t want to, I am not going to force you.” I guess Jake noticed me being hesitant about eating the rest of my meal.

“It’s not that I don’t want to eat it’s just that I’m really stressed and I don’t want to keep you here listening to me complain about the same things over and over again”

“Look at me” he said. I slowly lift my head for my eyes to meet with his. “I promise I will never get tired of listening to you” he reassured.

There he goes again, sending those butterflies flapping in my stomach. I don’t understand why he is so gentle and compassionate. It gives me goosebumps. I decide I might as well stop procrastinating and start enjoying the evening. “Thank you” I say, giving him a small smile. His face immediately lit up. It’s kind of cute. The rest of dinner went rather smoothly. Jake kept the conversation going, mostly talking about my day and what his was about, and then we would drift off into silence. He looked so relaxed and calm that I felt completely at ease. Even if I knew I should feel bad for keeping him up with my whining, I couldn’t bring myself to.

I stand up from the table and wash my plate. “I don’t know if anyone told you today, but you look gorgeous as always” he sneaks up behind me. “You don’t look too bad your self Jakey” I returned. My face was already a dark hue of red.

I decided maybe tonight I won’t rot away in my room. It’s a Friday night, I’ll have a little bit of fun. Still inside the house though. It is probably too cold outside anyway. I realize I am still in my work clothes. I return to my room to take them off and throw on my most comfortable pair of shorts and a talk top and take my Nintendo Switch to the living room.

Jake was already waiting there for me. He had a bottle of wine and 2 empty glasses. He looked up when I entered and smiled. I gave a shy smile and sat down next to him. He pulled me closer to him, pressing himself against me. Our legs intertwined under the couch. For a moment I forgot about the work situation and the world. In that moment it just felt nice to sit close to someone who cared for me unconditionally.

“What were you wanting to play?” he breaks the silence. “I was thinking we could play some Mario Kart” I suggested.

“Yeah we can, but you already know I’m gonna kick your ass”. He loves teasing me. I punched his shoulder and chuckled.

~~~~~~~~~~

He is in my bed. I just woke up and he is in my bed. I don’t know how to react. Maybe I drank a little too much? I really don’t remember anything after playing a few rounds of Mario Kart. He looks so peaceful. His dark brown hair all tangled up on the pillow. The way his biceps look in his black tank top. He doesn’t snore, but the way he breathes when he sleeps is very cute. There is a slight hint of stubble on his chin, almost like he hasn’t shaved in awhile. His lips are slightly parted. His face shows such contentment and relaxation. He looks so damn beautiful. I have to admit he is pretty attractive and I think he knows it. And I can’t help but wonder about what would happen if I leaned forward and kissed him. His soft lips pressed up against mine. I think it would be okay. Probably wouldn’t hurt. Scratch that, it would probably hurt a lot.

I woke up surprisingly early for a Saturday morning. Usually I am in bed until noon, but it’s only 9:30. Opposite of me, Jake likes to start his weekends bright and early, so it is a bit strange that he isn’t awake by now. I won’t bother him. It’s probably better this way. I roll over onto my side facing away from him. I close my eyes trying to fall back asleep. But it seems to be impossible. My mind is too preoccupied and Jake’s body is far too close to mine for my liking. I groan quietly. It doesn’t help at all.

I crawl out of bed, doing my best not to wake Jake up. As soon as I step out of the room, I feel my phone buzz in my pocket. It’s my mom. I guess I hadn’t returned and of her texts last night. She asks if I have slept okay and if I’ve eaten breakfast. When she sees I haven’t. She sends me a picture of the last time I was at her house eating spaghetti. “Just eat something sweetheart and take care of yourself” she reminds me gently. I sigh deeply before replying. “Mhmm thanks mom” I set my phone down on the kitchen counter and rummage through the fridge, hoping to find something appetizing for breakfast. As I search, I can't stop thinking about waking up next to Jake this morning. We've been best friends for so long, but recently I've started seeing him in a new light. The way his eyes crinkle when he smiles, how considerate he is, it stirs up the feelings I've been trying to suppress. I shake my head slightly and settle on making some eggs and toast.

As I cook, memories of last night come flooding back. The wine, the laughter, the gentle way he pulled me close on the couch as we played games. My heart flutters just thinking about how natural and right it felt being cuddled up next to him. But I can't read too much into it. Jake is my oldest friend, he probably sees the intimacy as purely platonic. The sizzle of the eggs brings me back to reality. I quickly plate the food and grab a mug of coffee before heading to the living room. I'll just relax and enjoy this lazy Saturday morning.

I'm about halfway through my breakfast when I hear Jake's footsteps shuffling down the hallway. He emerges, hair sticking up adorably, letting out a big yawn. "Mornin' sunshine," he says with a sleepy grin. I feel my cheeks warm at the nickname. "Morning. I made some extra if you want it," I reply, nodding toward the kitchen. "You're the best." Jake passes over to dish up a plate, giving me a perfect view of his lean back muscles stretching against his thin t-shirt. I quickly avert my eyes as he returns to the couch. As he sits next to me, our arms brush and I feel that spark of electricity again.

Jake doesn't seem to notice, just digs into his eggs happily. We eat in comfortable silence for a few minutes before he speaks up again.

"That was a fun night last night, wasn't it?" His eyes meet mine with a warm smile. "We'll have to do it again soon." I return the smile, hoping he can't see the longing behind it. "Yeah, it was really nice." Nice to just relax and be ourselves without any expectations or pressures. Nice to feel...that close to him.

~~~~~~~~~~

Jake has a friend named Jay. When Jake isn’t at work or at the house, he is most likely hanging out with Jay. Jay is a go with the flow kind of guy and was kind of a womanizer. There’s nothing wrong with it, but I try not to hang out with Jake when Jay is there for that reason.

Jake and Jay always go out for drinks on Saturday nights. I can’t remember the last time he was home on a Saturday night and I didn’t have to take care of him the next morning. He routinely stays at Jay’s house that night then gets an Uber back here the next morning.

Jake and Jay's Saturday night routine carried on like clockwork most weekends. Around 9 PM, Jay would pick Jake up and they'd head to their usual bar downtown. The two friends would drink heavily, telling outrageous stories and shamelessly checking out any attractive women who passed by.

For Jake, it was just a guys' night out away from work stress. But for Jay, it was a chance to flirt and see if he could add another notch to his bedpost. Jake didn't partake in that behavior himself, but he also didn't reproach Jay for it. He figured it was just Jay's way.

Come last call, the two would be pretty sloshed. Instead of dealing with an Uber that late, Jake would just crash at Jay's place. He'd wake up hungover the next morning and request a ride from a car service back home.

When he arrived home disheveled, I'd already have water and painkillers ready for him. I hated having to nurse him after these nights, but it was better than having Jay's leering presence around me. His constant objectification of women made me deeply uncomfortable. So I put up with Jake's hangovers to avoid that part of their friendship dynamic.

Jake opens the front door. I can hear him complaining about his headache already. He sets his keys down and immediately lays down in the couch.

"Hey babygirl, where is the aspirin? Do we have any aspirin left?" he asks groggily. A small chuckle escapes my lips before I turn around to look at him, smiling slightly. “I already got it out for you, and here is a glass of water”. His eyes are closed as I place the pills in his hand and he smiles once they make contact. “Thank you so much for taking care of me princess.” he praises as he shot the tablets into his mouth.

I giggle. This man is ridiculous. A loud yawn escapes his lips and I smile. As much as I hate seeing him like this, I am content with letting him have his fun every once in a while. His shirt is buttoned incorrectly, showing off his muscular chest. I look back at his face. His eyes were opened and he noticed me staring.

“What’s wrong Princess?” he slurs. “Do I look stupid or something?” “No Jake, you look great” I reply truthfully. “You just looked a little tired is all.”

Jake rolls over on the couch and turns onto his side. “I know you’re going to tell me I should rest more, but it’s so hard to sleep when you’re not in the same room.”

“Really? You usually fall asleep within seconds. Why is that?” He shrugs. “Don’t know babe. Just don’t like being alone.” I frown. That’s true enough. Jake never really liked being by himself. Ever since we were in diapers, he had always been surrounded by people. His parents, coworkers…me.

I decide to ask something rather personal instead. Maybe that will distract us for a while. “How’s your mom doing lately? Do you miss her?” Jake doesn’t respond right away. He starts fidgeting under my gaze. His hands begin picking at a loose thread on the couch cushion.

“Yeah, yeah. I miss her. I wish she wouldn’t be working so much now. She used to work less back when we were high school, you know? I still get worried sometimes” he answers with a slight edge in his voice. “It’s okay Jake. You know she likes working for your dad. It helps pay for everything” I remind him softly. He nods slowly. After a few moments, he finally breaks the silence.

“Why do you ask?” I guess he was caught off guard by the question. “I know it’s been a while since you’ve seen them, Australia isn’t in walking distance, ya know.” I try to cheer him up.

He sighs and looks down at the couch. “I guess I just wish I was able to spend more time with her like I did when I was younger. It doesn’t matter though.” He shakes his head dismissively. “She’ll come visit whenever she can. I’m just glad we both decided to live somewhere else for college. I would definitely have missed our family trips.”

“Oh…” I bite my lip unsure what to say to comfort him. He’s always taken his mother very seriously. Even when he was young he often complained that she worked too hard and stressed herself out, which only made him madder. In all fairness, she did work extremely hard—even harder than he ever could. And now that she has found some semblance of stability, he worries that he won’t be able to provide for her the lifestyle he wanted for her.

I reach out and pat Jake's arm reassuringly. "I know how much you miss your mom. But she's doing what she needs to in order to help take care of the bills and your dad. You know she'd be here if she could."

Jake nods slowly. "Yeah, you're right. I just wish there was more I could do from here, instead of feeling so helpless being so far away. I know my dad would want me there as well" He runs a hand through his tousled hair. "At least I have you around. Don't know what I'd do. You kinda of bring a feeling of home to me. I hope that made sense.”

I feel my cheeks flush a little at his words. "Well, you know I'll always be here for you," I reply, trying to keep my tone light.

“Thank you sweet heart.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Our parents went to University together. That’s how they met. My mom met Jake’s mom in a sociology class, and they have been best friends ever since. Being college bestfriend basically guarantees that your kid will have someone to grow up with, and they took advantage of that. He has litterally been there for every life event my mom felt was important enough to let him in on.

Though we didn’t become friends by choice, we were latched onto eachother ever since we were introduced. I remember I would ball my eyes out when even Jake got sick because it meant I couldn’t hang out with him after school or have play dates on the weekends. As we grew up, the situations weren’t as innocent. I would confide in him when I was upset, and he would hold me in his arms after my nightmares. I even found comfort in him after my numerous hearts breaks in highschool. Though none of my relationships were ever that serious, I was still unmistakably heartbroken.

Jake was never really a ladies man in highschool, or in general. He studied more on acedemics, which I guess was a good idea considering where he is now. Although I’d never said anything about it, his dating career was pretty dead for several years. In my opinion, it seemed unfair to Jake to not go on dates after highschool. While I understood why he wasn’t interested, it seemed a waste not to try. After all, I’m sure he could get any chick he wanted if he tried, I mean look at him. He had grown from a cute kid playing video games to one who had a perfect body and gorgeous features to match. So yeah, I loved that he was a boy and my friend. But there was no way I could give myself completely to such a man, especially with our history.

Jake is a lot different when I’m around, a lot more caring and loving. I’m reminded of all those times when I would find Jake crying when we came back from vacation during our sophomore year, or how he would suddenly appear at my room door at 5am looking for reassurance or help. At the time, I thought it was because he needed someone to talk to about the things troubling his mind, but now that I think about it , it’s kind of obvious he’s lonely. His dad has been in and out of the hospital recently. I don’t really want to push Jake into going into detail about his condition because it might make him emotional, but I just know that it is another thing that is weighing on him.

When I first started seeing him more and more recently, I thought maybe he wanted us to become closer friends. I mean, he was always talking about how much he adores spending time with me, and how grateful he is to me for saving him and bringing him back to life. I think the situation with his parents are weighing down on him more than I realize.

~~~~~~~~~~

The rhythmic tapping of rain against the window pane fills the hushed stillness of my bedroom. I lie awake, Jake's sleeping form curled up beside me, his head pillowed on my chest. His eyebrows are furrowed even in slumber, mouth turned down in a soft frown - the worry lines etched across his features never seem to fully fade these days. Gently, I brush some stray locks of hair off his forehead, my thumb tracing over the crease between his brows. Jake's been carrying the entire weight of his family's struggle on those broad shoulders.

A quiet sigh escapes his lips and he burrows deeper into my side, one arm slinging possessively over my waist. We've been a tangle of limbs like this more nights than not recently. After the latest bout of bad news about his dad, Jake sought me out like a man wandering through the desert in desperate need of water. I remember the rawness in his voice as he begged to stay in his room, to be held and comforted, the same way I always have. Whatever Jake needs from me, he'll never be turned away.

Trailing my fingers through Jake's hair, I allow myself to drink in every detail of him in this rare moment of peace. The slight upturn of his perfectly sloped nose. The way his plump lips are parted just enough to allow shallow puffs of breath to ghost across my skin. He really is beautiful in the most masculine, rugged way. Not that I'd ever say that out loud - it would be mortifying if Jake caught me ogling him like some lovesick fool. Then again, I've been a lovesick fool for the better part of a decade when it comes to him.

Lost in the flow of my thoughts, I don't even register the soft snuffling noises at first. It's only when Jake's eyelashes start fluttering that I glance down to find him blinking up at me groggily. Without a word, he shifts until his head is cradled in the crook of my neck, placing a slow, scorching kiss to the exposed skin of the side of my neck.

The world seems to screech to a halt. That...was definitely intentional. Purposefully intimate. There's no way it was an accident or a brief moment of sleep-hazy confusion. Not with the way Jake's pupils are blown wide, his lips parting to reveal the tip of his tongue darting out to wet them instinctively.

Just as quickly as the spark ignited, Jake seems to deflate, burying his face into the juncture of my neck and shoulder with a muffled whimper. His hands are fisting in the fabric of my sleep shirt, clutching me with a white-knuckled grip like I'm his lifeline back to the surface. Like if he doesn't hold on, he might drown. "Hey hey hey…" I gently stroke the length of his spine calming him. "You're okay now, everything is alright, relax..." Jake's breathing gradually slows. Gradually, he begins to relax, his fingers slackening their death grip in my shirt.

A few moments pass in silence before he lifts his head and looks directly at me. His eyes are slightly bloodshot, probably from all the crying. They’re red and glassy, a stark contrast to his usually flawless complexion. "Sorry," he murmurs. I shrug slightly. "Don't apologize." After a few sniffles, I feel his breathing become more consistent and his face is dry. He starts to do that cute breathing that I talked about. After I realized that he has met some sort of peace and fell asleep, I fell asleep soon after.

~~~~~~~~~~

The morning light filters in through the cracks of my blinds, shining over Jake's sleeping body in a soft glow. My eyes trace the line of his jawbone, the gentle rise and fall of his bare chest as he breathes. He looks so tranquil like this.

Jake smells so fucking good. If I could lay on his chest and take it his scent all day, I really would. Not to mention his face is extremely handsome. He has the face that other guys wish they had. It’s very obvious he takes care of himself.

I can't stop replaying that moment from last night over and over in my mind. The heat of Jake's lips pressing against the skin of my neck. Part of me was desperate to surge forward then and seal my mouth over Jake's, to finally give in to the magnetic pull that's been drawing me to him.

But I didn't. I couldn't. Because I'm also terrified of what exploring these feelings could mean for our relationship.

Losing him isn't an option I can fathom. And he seemed to make the same choice in that moment by turning away, burying his face against my neck with a whimper that could have been either anguished or relieved.

We're cowards, the two of us. Content to dance around the fire instead of being set ablaze

Part of me wonders if Jake was hoping for something in return. Maybe a kiss? Maybe he did it to show it trust and comfort for me. He knows what he is doing. The moment his lips touched my neck, my whole body shivered. I wanted more but I contained myself.

My body still hums with the memory of his kiss, nerves tingling with equal parts of dread. I want to reach out and trail my fingertips over the golden skin of his forearm, to breathe him in and see if he tastes how I've imagined on my tongue.

How many more moments like last night can I survive before the truth comes out? I don't have the answers. All I know is that I'm still undeniably his - body, mind and heart.

It has been too many nights where I imagine his lips against mine. The way he chills my spine when whispers in my ear makes me crave hearing his voice. I wonder what he would be like in a relationship with me, he treats me like a princess already, I don’t know how much better it could get.

My mind drifts to memories of him holding me tight when I was upset, his muscular arms engulfing me in a warm embrace. The feeling of safety and contentment that would wash over me in those moments. If I could experience that every night by his side, it might just be pure bliss.

I fantasize about waking up intertwined with Jake, our legs tangled together as we trade kisses and touches unhurried by the outside world. Combing my fingers through his bed hair while he peppers light kisses along my jawline.

Maybe there could be slowmake-out sessions on the couch, all heated caresses and desperate roaming hands before things inevitably progress further. I would lavish every sculpted line of Jake's body with devoted attention. I imagine he would be an attentive, generous lover, just as giving in the bedroom as he is in every other aspect of his life.

I also can’t get over the mental hurdle that maybe it is kind of gross that I see my bestfriend this way. I could easily mistake all of the kind things he does and how he treats me as something more than what he intends it to be, and that would make me uneasy. I have never done anything sexual with him and anything that would imply sexual attraction, yet I am still here wondering what it is like to have sex with him.

~~~~~~~~~~

I really need to get my feelings sorted out soon because they are just going to keep building up until they eventually burst, and I really don’t want Jake to witness that.The week went the same again. and again. and again. Wake up, go to work, do nothing after. But recently, Jake got a promotion at his job, which was grounds for celebration.

The local diner is busy with the lunch crowd, the air thick with aromas of burgers sizzling on the griddle and fresh baked pie. Jake and I slip into our usual corner booth, the cracked vinyl cushions molding to our forms like old friends. This place has been our go to spot since we started university here. We've shared so many moments in this very booth over the years. Happy celebrations or acing a big exam.

Which is why the thick tension clouding the air between us right now feels so alien. Instead of our usual easy camaraderie, I can barely look at Jake without my pulse kicking up. The memory of his firm chest brushing mine, those plush lips just a table length away, has my skin flushing hot. I squeeze my thighs together secretly, desperate for any kind of friction to alleviate the slow burn of arousal low in my belly.

Just being this close to Jake is enough to have that want unfolding all over again. Filling my head with flashes of how it could feel to finally give in - his weight blanketing me, our bodies moving together in a sinuous rhythm as his mouth trails searing kisses along my neck. "Hey." Jake's low rumble jolts me out of the vivid fantasy.

"You're zoning out, sweetheart. Everything okay?" My cheeks flame darker, that suddenly seems too intimate. I duck my head, but not before catching the unmistakable smirk curling at the corners of Jake's lips. That insufferable, cocky smirk he knows drives me crazy. I want to kiss it off his stupidly perfect face. Or maybe bite at the sharp line of his jaw, put that arrogant look to better use while I'm straddling his lap and--

"Fine," I mumble, hooking a loose strand of hair behind my ear to avoid meeting Jake's eyes. The small movement causes our elbows to brush together on the tabletop. His skin is so soft. Jake's brow furrows, like he doesn't miss the way I've gone tense and flustered all over again. Before I can blink, his hand is covering mine. Those long fingers tenderly stroking along my knuckles, smoothing over my suddenly clammy skin.

Slowly, purposefully, Jake tugs my hand closer until my palm is cupping his scruffy jaw. I suck in a sharp, shaky breath at the contact, at being able to feel the rasp of his five o'clock shadow against my sensitive skin. Jake holds me there for a moment, those meltingly warm eyes boring into mine like he's trying to read my mind.

Then, in the most tempting act of torture imaginable, Jake presses his lips to my wrist in the barest brush of mouth against pulse point. I swear I could die right then and there. He slowly pulls away, looking up to meet my eyes once again. Our gaze meets, intense and lustful, filled with a hunger that only he knows how to create. This feels so wrong, so dangerous. The fact he's staring down at my lips, licking his subconsciously causes a slight hitch in my breathing. A tiny part of me wants to lean forward and press my lips to his. But I stop the impulse with the thought of what we did last night, and the consequences of getting caught again.

Instead, I let out a sigh and break eye contact before pulling my hand away and placing my elbow on the table. I rub my thumb across my wrist absentmindedly while avoiding Jake's gaze, the words I want to say stuck somewhere inside my throat like rocks. There isn't anything I can do. What I have with Jake is different now. I'm scared shitless to tell him how I truly feel.

"What's wrong? Are you alright?" Jake asks, worry laced into his tone. He places a hand on my thigh, making me jump slightly. “It’s nothing, really” I lied. The server comes over to the table to take our order. “What could I get started for you to drink” he says.

Our meal goes by normally, Jake pretending that he had done nothing earlier. Afterward, we head home, the silence thickening the further into town we get. There’s nothing for me to say, no reason to prolong this conversation I’m dreading anymore. He must sense my sudden change of mood. He drops his arm from around my shoulders and lets his hand fall limply back onto his knee.

We walk silently in the direction of our house. Neither of us speaking. It’s almost as if we’re both waiting for the other to make the first move. I have an overwhelming urge to turn to him and kiss him.

~~~~~~~~~~

I can’t stop thinking about Jake. He is the first thing I think about when I wake up and the last thing I think about when I go to bed. Over the past few weeks, I feel like he has become a lot more touchy, which don’t really mind. He smiles for a little longer when we eat together. We have slept in each others room a lot more often than before. I may just be over analyzing it.

Jake is going out with Jay again. As usual, I don’t plan on him coming home tonight, and I will wake up to a hungover Jake. Jay isn’t really the friend to take care of you when you feel ill, so that responsibility is left on me.

I hate to admit, but when Jake isn’t home for a night, I fight the urge to sleep in his bed. I have been sleeping in his bed with him so often that it leaves me in withdrawal when we aren’t in the same bed.

Just being in his room, his scent diffused in the air, it makes me miss him so much more. Even without thinking about the fact that it is his room, the bed is so much more comfortable than mine, which is all the better reason to sleep there.

I walk in, already in my shorts and t-shirt, and wonder around. He has the picture of us that his mom took when we were first leaving for Korea framed on his nightstand.

I pick it up and examine it closely. It is the one photo where we didn’t appear stiff. I remember the day clearly; I was standing with him, grinning broadly. I never expected to smile so much when I was young, but my memories of our trip leave a bright happy feeling inside my stomach.

I set the photo back down and I lift the blanket from the corner of the bed. I slide into the bed, laying on his side like I usually do when he isn’t here. I instantly melt into the sheets. I scroll on my phone whilst fighting my eyelids to stay awake, but eventually I fall asleep prematurely.

Jake usually keeps his room pretty cool, which calls for cuddling closely under the blankets. In the middle of my sleep, I am shot awake when my cold limbs are instantly warmed by an unexpected sensation. Why was Jake home?

Jake continues to get comfortable under the blanket, not even batting an eye at the fact that I was just sleeping in his bed. I pull him closer by his waist to fulfill the rest of the warmth that my body craves.

“Why are you shivering sweetheart, you could have turned on the heater.” he worries.

“I wanted the temperature to be tolerable when you got back in the morning” such a stupid explanation. “Speaking of, why are you here right now? what happened to Jay’s?” I questioned, completely forgetting how we got into this situation in the first place.

“Jay was feeling ill so we called it a night pretty early, I only got three shots down.”

Jake runs a lazy finger over my hip bone and leans in to nuzzle the crook of my neck. Shit. He’ll notice the way I react to his touches and I won’t be able to explain myself. Fuck.

“I thought I would come to my room and catch up on sleep but look what we have here instead” he says with that stupid smirk on his face.

“Oh- oh I’m sorry.” I slowly pull away from him to make way back to my room. “No babe, please don’t go, I want you to stay” he begs while keeping our fingers latched to keep our extended arms together. He then latched his hand around my wrist to slowly pull me back down to his level on the bed. It’s all happening too fast. He uses the same hand to comb his fingers through the strands at the bottom of my hair on the back of my head, and keeps his hand there entangled. He uses his hand to guide my head into a sensual kiss. He gently pressed his lips against mine. So plump, so dreamy. I reciprocated the kiss instantly, matching his pace and moving our lips in sync so perfectly. The way our lips intertwined so naturally gave me actual chills.

After giving me what I have dreamt about for years, he pulls away, leaving a string of saliva to connect our lips. He looks into my eyes, his pupils as voids. “Please stay” he whispers again. I nod dumbly, my brain still short circuiting as Jake bites is bottom lip. He’s so fucking beautiful, my eyes are practically burning holes into his lips.

His fingers gently run over my cheekbone, lingering on my jawline, tracing along my nose. “How did I ever deserve someone as beautiful as you?” he murmurs. His voice is full of admiration and love and affection. He trails his fingers along my jaw, pausing to lightly graze my collar bone, making goosebumps erupt across my skin. The heat radiating off Jake’s body is practically burning me alive.

Without thinking about it for a second longer, I close the gap between our lips again. We moved in sync, in harmony. It feels like my lips were only made to kiss his. He rests his free hand on the side of my face and uses it as grip to deepen the kiss. Kissing him I had a sense of saftey. The longer our lips were together, the more open I was to his attempts at adding tongue into the mixture. It was a sloppy wet mess, but is all I have ever wanted.

I slide my hand between out warm bodies and feel across his obvious bulge in his boxers. He instantly let out a groan when I took his imprint into my palm. I stroked it gently as we continued with intertwined tongues. His grunts and breathlessness was insanely arousing.

It was clear that we were both extremely sleepy. After a few more minutes of kissing, we eventually pulled away, with no words spoken.

I try my best to hold in my moans as the warmness travels up my body like lava. He stops tracing my collarbone to trail his hands up the side of my body, stopping to stroke a line of soft kisses along the side of my neck.

My hands grasp tightly at the material covering Jake’s shoulder blades and I use that leverage to get back under the blankets with him. We both face eachother, with our legs crossing randomly over one another. He once again rests his head in the crook of my neck, leaving a kiss like he did once before. Only this time, I know his true intention.

~~~~~~~~~

The fall semester is starting back up again. Junior year, both is our schedules are jammed packed with upper division classes. Having to balance so many classes and still having to work to keep up with the bills for the house, Jake and I hardly see each other. Even though I love spending every single day with him, I feel like I’m living with a ghost whenever I see his empty seat. When I wake up every morning to find him gone, my heart starts to ache. It hurts knowing that we might not spend as much time together. I know that the sooner that this semester ends, the easier everything will be.

The end of the semester wasn’t going to be soon though, it’s barely September. I’ve decided to try and set a study date with Jake and make sure nothing was overlapping the times. We eventually agreed apon Thursday night after he got off of his afternoon job. Maybe around 8 o’clock. I was getting a head start on my Statistics work before he showed up because I knew it would take me a while. He eventually showed up close to 8:30.

I had my headphone covering my ears, shoulders slumped over my desk, and he comes up behind me and take my shoulders in his hands and sensually massages. “Ah thank youuuu~~~ my muscles are tight” I jumped at the unexpected pressure. He drives his thumbs a little bit deeper into my blades and slides his straight arms down my stomach for a hug. “I missed you” he griped with puppy dog eyes, resting his head on my shoulder. I take off my headphone and hold both of his forearms and pull him deeper into this awkwardly positioned hug.

After a few seconds he pulls away and grabs out his bag with his laptop, and runs to his room to grab his chair to pull up next to mine. I was still seated, watching, unable to take my eyes off him. He settles himself and puts the laptop on his knees in front of him. He opens his notebook, and turns the page to the worksheet for this month. My fingers naturally find their way to his back and scratch gently while he looks over his work. They made their way up his clothed back and into his hair and I ran them through this tangled hair. He let out a sigh of fufillment and he allows himself self to close his eyes to fully take in the relaxing feeling. He breaths in deeply and slowly, taking in my coconut scent.

“Fuck it” he says under his breath.

He turns in my directed and crashed his lips into mine with no hesitation. He wraps his arms around my neck, deepening the kiss. I was startled at the quick change in plans but my lips soon melted into his and I was under his control. My tongue dances along his bottom lip, asking for entrance as he obliges and gives access. He lifts me from my chair and pulls me over to straddle his thighs.

He guides his lips to mine again, running his hands down my back as he pushes me lower into his lap. I wrap my legs slightly around his waist for some sense of support. The sensual make out and lap straddling goes on and on, until he breaks away slightly to speak, “You can move if you want sweetheart”.

He reconnects our lips and I find myself needing any sort of friction to ease the pressure building between my legs. Subconsciously grinding my core over his thigh slowly. I bite down on his lower lip causing him to suck on my tongue immediately as a response. God, he tastes so good, like the cocoa butter lip balm I got him for his birthday.

I continue grinding over his thighs picking up the aggressiveness, as he continues to run his hands through my hair. “Feeling desperate, darling?” he teases, smirking as he tries to pull me back into a kiss. “Shut up” I harden my fist and hit the front of his shoulder. He always finds a way to tease me. He chuckles as we connect our lips once again.

He slides both of his hands under my thighs stands up from his chair, and I wrap my legs around his body as he carries me to the bed. He slowly lays me down on my back with my legs still wrapped around his waist. He doesn’t break the kiss but as soon as he sets me down, I can feel his erection bulging through his pants rubbing against me sweet spot. We stop kissing momentarily as he looks at me, with lust filled eyes. He lets one of his hands rest on my chest, while the other traces along the side of my neck to my chin, tilting my head upward and pressing his forehead against mine. “Look at how gorgeous you are right now,” he says with pure adoration. “I can’t help myself when I’m with you.” A sudden surge of desire hits me and my hands grip his hips tighter as he starts to trail kisses on my jawline. I can feel an undeniable wetness spreading in my panties. I am becoming desperate.

I placed my hands at the bottom of his shirt and began lifting it up, but he finished the job and lifted it over his head and threw it to the side. I have seen Jake shirtless a million times over but this time is different. It feels more intimate than the last ones I have seen. I felt my throat tighten as my eyes were drawn to his chest which looked absolutely flawless. “So beautiful” I whisper and I trace my fingers over his abs and chest. His body looks perfectly carved and sculpted by a god. “It’s all for you, baby” he cooed.

I reach my arms around his back and gently dig my nails into his skin as he continues to kiss me. He grabs the bottom of my shirt and pulls it over my head, revealing my breasts. I wasn’t wearing a bra since I had been home all afternoon, and I definitely wasn’t expecting this. As soon as he sees them, he takes one of them in his hand. He holds my right breast in his palm and gently rubs it between his thumb and index finger.

His gaze remains focused on my chest as his mouth begins to travel down, taking his time to enjoy each and every piece of my body. He stops to give me another kiss before placing his lips on my nipple. He sucks on my nipple whilst his teeth nipped at my flesh, causing me to moan lowly. I grabbed his hair pulling him closer to me. I grind my pelvis onto his dick, eliciting a groan and he removes his mouth, making a ‘pop’ sound, to look at his next target intensely. He took my other breast into his mouth, swirling his tongue around my nipple and softly sucking, making me arch my back and having a moan escape my lips. Jake trails his hands down my waist while keeping his mouth latched to me.

His fingers went into the top of my sweatpants and I stopped him. “I have never done this before” I admitted. “Do you want me to stop?” he questions. How could I ever want him to stop? He is the only person I have ever imagined losing my virginity to. That aside I simply answer “No, Jakey, I trust you”

He continues to pull me pants down and off my legs and throws it to the side like he did with the other articles of clothing. He licks up my neck and comes to my ear. “I have never done this either, we can learn together” he whispered. Hearing this made my noticibly more wet, the way he whispers into my ear raises every single hair on my body. The thought of us having our first times with each other made this whole so much more meaningful and made me a lot less hesitant.

The only thing I have left on are my black panties and Jake looks like he is a man with a mission. I grab his bulge through his jeans and gently massage. He becomes a groaning mess as I palm his desperate tip. He is barely even able to keep his lips a decent distance apart for me to kiss him. “Fuuuck your hand feels so good” I take my other hand to start unbuckling his jeans, which he seems to have no problem with.

I pulled the belt off and unbuttoned his jeans and pulls them down, to where he took them all the way off. All he has left is his boxers. I can clearly see the imprint of he large cock through the thin fabric. I furrowed my eyebrows. “Does it look too big?, we can stop now if we need to” he questioned, seeing the fear on my face. I gulped and said “No, I can take it.”

I continued stroking through his boxers and he moved my panties to the side and rubbed gently on my folds. I gasped at the feeling. The better it started to feel, the less and less I was able to focus on Jake and more on myself. He had me wrapped around his finger. No amount of masturbating could compare to the way he is making me feel within these few minutes.

He slid his fingers down my clit and inserted one. He pumped it in and out until I felt that I was ready for more. Then 2. It hurt a little more but I slowly got used to it. He leaned his head down while his fingers still stuffed me and started leaving kisses on my clit. For having so little experience, he worked his finger and tongue like a professional. The way his tongue danced across my sensitive bud made my body shutter, and I couldn’t keep my mouth shut.

“I love the sounds of your whimpers” he moaned against my clit teasing me. I couldn’t even respond. My breathing quickened, and the more his fingers fucked me, the more I could tell how wet I was getting. I whimpered again and I gripped his hair signaling how good he was making me feel. “It tastes just as sweet as I imagined” he praised. He has imagined this before? What else has he imagined?

His fingers slowed down and he slipped two inside of me simultaneously. My hips bucked up and I let out a small gasp, my nails digging into his shoulders. He continued working his fingers inside of me. He was eating like a man who hadn’t seen a meal in a week.

“I want to taste you now.” I protest, pulling his face up for a kiss. His eyes look like he is drunk as his tongue swirled with mine and he gave me a slow deep kiss. He sucked on my bottom lip, then bit me, and finally opened his mouth and licked my tongue with his. He pulls away and allows me to pull his boxers past his hips and onto the ground. His dick sprung out. God, it was a lot thicker than I imagined.

I take the base of it and put my lips against the tip, swirling my tongue around. His muscular hand combs through the top of my hair and gently grips it as I begin to take more of his length in my mouth. I could feel it sliding smoothly in and out of my throat. His grip on my hair tightens and he guides me to take more in moderation. “God yes baby, that’s it” he encouraged. I looked up at him, the room filled with breathy moans and he couldn’t keep his mouth shut. I felt the waves of his voice vibrating through my lips as he spoke, causing goosebumps to erupt across my entire body. I could feel my juices flowing through my pussy and down my belly.

I continue sucking him until he is almost completely buried inside my mouth. He leans down placing his lips beside my ear. “I don’t think I can hold out much longer” he whispers, making me smile.

He slowly pulls himself out of my mouth and lifts me back onto the bed. I use my arms to cover my chest, I am a little nervous. He leans down and kisses me on the forehead. “Don’t hide yourself, you look perfect darling” he said proceeding to take my tongue in his mouth. God this man loves using his tongue. I have never felt this type of intimacy before, and to think I am covering that ground with my bestfriend, was not how I thought it was going to go to say the least.

He brushes his tip in between my folds, spreading my wetness around. “Are you sure you want to keep going? We can stop here, just say the words and I will stop” “Please keep going” I am practically begging. He seems to enjoy my obvious desperation. He guide the tip in slowly, trying not to overwhelm me. He goes in a little deeper. I wince in pain. “Ah baby go a little slower” I pleaded. I didn’t want him to stop but it was definitely starting to hurt. He held the same spot for a few more seconds, then slowly pushed more in. I have gotten used to the stinging, as it slowly turns to pleasure.

“Shit princess, you’re so fucking tight” Jake praises. He was getting lost in his own world since he has never felt a warm pussy wrapped aroung his dick before, especially not one like mine. I felt his tip hit the enterance of my cervix. He bottomed out. He didn’t move. He didn’t even want to move, he was just enjoying the moment of his cock being buried deep inside his bestfriend. “You ok babe?” he asked, concerned by the lack of movement from me. “Yeah, just give me a second” I replied, attempting to get myself under control.

I began to relax, letting the warmth envelop my entire body. I signal that his is able to move. He slowly pulls his cock out of my cunt, and immediately pushes it back in. He rests both of his arms next to my face and comes down to kiss me. I can see the faint beads of sweat forming on his forehead. “You do not know how long I have been wanting to do this” He whispered into my ear. Once again, Jakes words send a tingle down my spine. He instantly latched himself onto my neck, sucking harshly while still keeping a slow pace down below. I grip his brown head of hair as he leaves purple marks on my skin, bruising my neck. He pulls out and goes back in, this time at a consistent rate.

Our torsos are in complete contact and he sets both of his hands under my back. I wrap my legs around his waist to allow him deeper access, which he so desperately needed. His lips were locked with mine. Our tongues were dancing along with each other as well as our chests. Every time he would suck on my lower lip, I moan against his lips.

“This is what I have been dreaming about” He says breaking away and kissing my nose. He finds me comfortable with his picking up the pace, and he did with no hesitation. He nuzzles into my neck with his hair partially resting on my face. There was no pain left to feel and my whole body was washed over with pleasure. His length fit so perfectly into my warm cunt, like we were make to only fuck eachother.

Jake head still right next to mine, I turn my head and whisper “Jakey, it feels so gooood~~~~” with inconsistency in my breathing. Jake’s ears were pleasured as if he were listening to his favorite song. He slowed down the pace, only to drive his dick deeper into my swollen cunt with each thrust. “Oh my god it’s feels so fucking good, you taking my cock like this.” he whines in my ear. He pulls away from my neck and just watching himself fuck into my pussy.

There was so much sweat on his face it was so fucking hot. It was dripping off his chin and onto my shoulder and neck. His hair was starting to get wet. He took both of my legs over his shoulders, making sure to maintain eye contact. Each stroke was deeper and deeper. Faster and faster. He was getting desperate. I don’t know how much more my inexperienced pussy can handle. He takes his thumb and gently rubs my clit. Ugh, I have never felt this sort of sensation before, being fucked at the same time.

My moans became more uncontrollable and my legs started to close in. “Fuckkkkk Jakey I am about to cum” I am on the verge of tears, overstimulated with pleasure. The pressure on my clit mixed with the repeated abuse of my cervix was enough to drive me over the edge. “Mmmmm yes doll, cum on my cock” he says lowly. My walls tighten around him and my hips are shaking. My heart is beating at 1000bpm, not a coherent thought left in my fucked-dumb mind. He practically has to pry my legs apart to maintain access to my slit. He holds my hips in place as he gives me a few more strokes. His became less and less powerful.

Once he felt his orgasm coming, he quickly pulled out of me, letting out a loud groan, and shot his strings of white cum all over my tummy and chest. The room was filled with loud pants and the scent of sex. “You are all I have ever wanted” I reach up to tuck his hair behind his ear, not minding the fact that his face was soaked. We rest our foreheads together and rub our noses across each other as we both try to catch our breath.

After a second of recovery, He runs to the bathroom and grabs a rag to clean me up. I could barely move my body, my entire entity was more than sore. It hurt to move, all I could do is lay there. Jake returns with a cold washcloth, and starts wiping off my stomach. “Do you need help getting cleaned up babe?” he asks, sitting down beside me, his arm around my naked torso. “Could we take a bath together?” I suggested.

A bath together after the fact is far more intimate, and could give us some time to talk things over. “Of course” and smiles. “I can go get it set up right now, darling, you just rest for a few minutes” He gives me a kiss on the nose and forehead before heading to run the faucet.

~~~~~~~~~~

I don’t know how I could let this happen. I lay on my bed rerunning all of the events writhing the last hour in my head. I really don’t know why we both allowed it to go that far. I admit, I loved every second of it, but now that it’s over, we have to deal with the effects.

Jake comes back from running the faucet. He looks tired. Maybe a bath is something we both need. “Come here sweetheart” he brings a towel and sets it on the counter.

The bathroom mirror was completely fogged over. “Are you trying to make soup out of us?” I said jokingly. “I know you like taking your showers hot, so I thought maybe it would be the same for baths” he chuckled.

I dip my toes into the half full tub. Jake was right, the temperature was just how I liked it. I held onto his shoulder as I submerge my other foot. The water lapped over the rim of the bath tub.

I keep hold onto his hand so he can guide himself into the tub, taking a lot more balance and tolerance for him to try to get used to the boiling water. “God damn, you like it hot hot” he teases though I can see him furrowing his eyebrows at the heat.

“Oh don’t be such a baby” I tease him right back. He pouts playfully. I love seeing that kind of reaction from him. “I don’t mind” he mumbles in embarrassment, trying to hide the smile on his face.

Once his feet were able to get used to the water, we both slowly sat the rest of our bodies into the tub. Jakes hair is a mess, it’s going in all different directions. I reach out to tuck some of it behind his ears for him, and then cup his face in my palm. I stroke his cheek with my thumb. He tilts his head, there he goes with those irresistible puppy dog eyes again.

“What’s wrong baby?” he asks. I remain in eye contact with him. “Were you being serious? When you said you have dreamt about… that…?”

He’s silent. So much blood rushing to his face his cheeks are like strawberries. He scratched the back of his head. “I mean yeah… why wouldn’t I” he hesitated.

“I mean look at you, you are insanely attractive and we live together and have known each other forever. Of course my mind is going to wonder. It has wondered many more times than I would like to admit.” he explained himself.

Unintentionally, our bodies kept inching towards each other in that bath. I am some how a mere 6 inches away from his face. “Why haven’t you ever told me how you felt?”

“Because I was scared on how it would change our friendship”…. he had the exact same fear as I did. He was also afraid of losing one of his best friends. “If I tell you how I feel, you might think it’s weird or something” he whispers into my ear. “No I will understand, we have known each other our whole lives. How would it be weird?” I say softly.

He hesitates once again, and I can hear his heart start to pound. He closes the gap between us and rests his forehead on mine. “There is so much you don’t know” He breathes, still looking deep into my eyes. His words caused a flicker of anxiety inside of me. “There is so much I want to know about you, darling” I reassure.

“Well for starters I never thought this thing between us would become anything more than just friends” he confesses. It is hard for him to admit such things, but he has to show me that I matter more than he thinks. “It scares me, and I’m sorry that I let it go too far. I guess it’s because I’ve been waiting so long, and everything has changed so fast” he explained, he still had this worried look on his face like I were going to shut everything down. Everything had changed so fast.

“You have to stop worrying so much about me. You can trust me, okay? I’ll never judge or hate you or think any differently of you. All I want is for us to enjoy our first time together and enjoy each other. I have never seen anyone as beautiful as you are to me”. I caress his face with my hands.

A small smile graces his features while he gazes back into my eyes. I lean forward and capture him in a long passionate kiss. Our lips moving in sync, tasting each others taste as if it was our first time doing it. We pull away and stare at each other. He places both of his palms on either side of my face, leaning in even closer. I place my lips in line with his.

My fingers run through his soaked hair, though I don’t know if it use from sweat or from water. “Jakey, if I am going to be honest, I have been feeling the same way. On nights where we don’t sleep in the same bed, I find myself getting less sleep and craving your warmth. I don’t regret anything that’s happened between us tonight. Admittedly, I have been wanting to do that with you for so long” I started ranting.

“When you were making love to me I felt like I was floating away and it felt so good I just wanted to stay here forever, like nothing else mattered. There wasn’t anything I wanted more than to stay in this moment forever with you, but we both know that isn’t possible.” he continues, his voice cracking.

“Making love?” I chuckle. Such an interesting word choice. “Be quiet” he pushes back. “I’m just joking, but I agree”

He was clearly getting tired, letting out a yawn and fighting the force of his eyelids trying to close. “We should get to bed” I suggest. We soak the last few moments of the now comfortably hot water and get out of the tub. “You better not get water all over the floor, Jake” HE ALWAYS DOES THAT.

He grabs a towel for me and and one for himself and he wraps mine around my whole body width and pulls me for a hug. “I am glad we took a bath together sweetheart, try to get some rest” he whispers, and leaves an innocent kiss on my forehead.

~~~~~~~~~~

The next few weeks consisted of school, work, and sleeping in the same bed with Jake pretty much every single night. We would exchange passionate kisses and I would bathe him when he was too tired from work or hanging out with Jay. And he would do the same for me. We never went as far to have sex again. We weren’t scared but we felt like we should wait.

We are on our way back to Australia for fall break. Jake will finally get to see his parents and I will get to see mine. We get to have a whole week without having to worry about responsibilities. Which I know both of us desperately need. We touch down in Australia around maybe 3pm on the first Saturday of the break. We only brought carry on luggage for convenience and time.

“Have everything?” He questioned me as we were getting out of our seats. “I think so” I smile, so excited to see my parents. We arranged for Jake’s mom to pick us up from the airport. She had a large SUV able to fit all of our stuff comfortably. Once we passed through all of the security and customs, Jake calls her to see where she is parked. On speaker I hear her say “9 rows down from the south enterance” she explains. “Thanks mom, see you in a sec” Jake says about to hang up the phone. “Thank you Mrs Sim” I make sure she hears before he presses the red button.

We hurry to get out of the packed airport so meet up with his mom. The weather was cold and misty and it was hard to see. When we finally arrived outside the south enterance, we could hardly believe what we saw. Layla comes up running at full sprint in me and Jake’s direction. She jumped up onto bother of us, layering our faces and arms with slobbery licks and he tail wagging so hard it may as well had fallen off.

Once Layla was all calmed down we put our luggage into the trunk. We swing up the door and the vehicle seems oddly empty. “Where is dad?” Jake questioned his mom. “He is getting worse…. he wasn’t able to make it today, I had to take him back to the hospital last night” she explained. I could already see the heart break in his eyes. “Oh” We packed everything up and his mom offered for me to sit in the front seat. Honestly, I wanted to sit in the back seat and comfort Jake, so I made up the excuse that Layla should sit in the front.

The mood in the car ride home was off. I don’t know if it was from the weather or his fathers health but Jake was not as energetic as he was before. I know he doesn’t deserve everything happening to his dad so I will just try to support him through it.

~~~~~~~~~~

I never really gave it much thought, but the more I put the pieces together, I think maybe the reason Jake is so insistent on getting black out drunk with Jay on the weekends may have to do with his father.

Jake has never in his life had a healthy coping mechanism. I remember a lot through out grade school, he would feel guilty or take blame for things that were not his fault, just to mediate the situation. When he did this, he did not react to the discipline very well, but it seems like he would much rather face conveniences than to start an argument over the original problem.

Jake let a lot of people take advantage of him, and it is still something that we have to work on, but knowing the situation with his dad, I know he has a lot more things to worry about now that usual.

Many of the people excluding his parents are alcoholics, any family event we went to together, the main thing being passed around was a bottle. When we were younger, things made him build resentment towards them but the older we got, the more willing he was to try alcohol, only adding more and more each time until he is where he is at now.

Jay isn’t the type of friend to stop this behavior either. I will never understand why Jake is such good friends with him cause he never seems to have the best intentions or good interest in mind. I can’t be the one to tell him that they should stop being friends cause at the end of the day, Jake’s relationship with alcohol won’t be healed in a split second.

~~~~~~~~~~

Nothing really eventful happened over the span of the after noon, the rain put everything to a halt. I slept in the guest bed in Jake’s house for the first night but was unable to fall asleep for the majority of the night. Jake’s mom rushed into the room around 1:30 am.

“Hey are you awake? We have to go the hospital, it’s my husband. Please wake up Jake while I grab the keys” She said with an extremely shaken voice full of urgency. I shoot out of the bed and put my shorts back on and practically run down the hallway to Jake’s room. It is locked. I bang on the door frantically. “Jake! Jake get up now we have to go” I echo through the door. Quickly after he swings open his door with his shirt in his hand, in the middle of putting it on.

The SUV was already started when we got out the front door and we ran to get into the car and soon as we sat down she reversed and tried to explain. “He slipped into a coma. They said they are trying everything to get him to wake up but they have no idea why it happened because he was in decent shape before” she says with tears forming in her eyes.

I reach up to the front seat to scratch her shoulder to try and calm her. I don’t think there is anything someone can do in this situation to calm someone in this much distress down but I tried. She is going dangerously fast down the highway. I know that she has been working hard to keep them afloat and thing we’re starting to get better. After that I couldn’t stand to listen anymore and closed my eyes hoping that by some miracle she wouldn’t end up killing us.

After what seemed like hours we reached the hospital and were quickly taken to another private room where we could talk with him alone. Of course his dad wasn’t going to be able to say anything. But Jake still wanted him to listen. He took his fathers hand a caressed his palm with his fingers while he said what he needed to say. Once he was done, I gave Jake a hug as his red face were completely covered in tears.

“He will be okay, I promise” I reassured him. We walked out of the room to discover his mom sitting next to the window, face completely void of emotion. He hasn’t spoken a word since we have gotten here.

“You know…. he was really excited for you both to come back. He was practically counting down the days” she admitted, wiping a tear from here eye. “I was so excited with him” she added. Her words shatter my heart. How is she not screaming in anger right now. Angry at the world for doing this to her innocent husband. That was something I admired about her. She was always able to contain her emotions well, almost too well.

Seeing both her and Jake in this state was absolutely terrible. I knew it would only take a miracle to fix this given his dads condition. “It’ll all be okay, Jake, don’t cry” I assure him. “It won’t, how am I supposed to deal with this? How am I supposed to go back to school without seeing him, talking to him… it hurts” “There is still a chance that he will make it Jake, don’t give up on it. I know he wants you to wait for him”

He couldn’t say anything, all he could do was bury his face into my shoulder and sob. He tried to form words, but they were only choked noises which caused him to cry even harder. “Shh its okay, I am here” I assure him. Me, Jake and his mom spent the night in the hospital. His mom slept in the room with his dad and me and Jake slept in a guest waiting room. Well, I was the only one who was able to get some sleep. Jake was up all night worrying about his father. I could hear him crying as I were trying to fall asleep.

~~~~~~~~~~

A few weeks had passed and his fathers condition remained the same, and to be honest, Jake and his mom seemed like they kind of accepted that this was the way that things were going to be.

We were back at the house, his mom would just go to work and lock herself in her room until she had to go to work again and Jake and I were preparing to go back to Korea for the Winter semester.

Mrs Sim did not want to see us leave, and she made it very clear. We were her last hope with everything going on with her husband. I really wish me and Jake could stay back to support her but we have jobs and bills that we have to get back to, and life can’t just pause for us. We promised we would let her know how we are feeling, how much we missed each other and everything else that went along with saying goodbye.

We leave in 3 days, and we made it our mission to hang out with his mom as much as we could before we left. She hasn’t taken a break either… no time to her self she just has to keep working to pay for the house and the piling medical bills.

Those last few days, we took Mrs. Sim out for lunch at her favorite Thai restaurant. She seemed to genuinely smile for the first time in weeks as we joked and reminisced about times when all 4 of us were together. One night, we rented some classic movies she loved and made her favorite snacks. We cuddled up on the couch, enjoying the familiar feeling of just being together as a family again, if only briefly.

Jake and I helped around the house as much as we could - running errands, doing yard work, and cooking meals to give his mom a little respite. We made sure to soak in every moment because we didn't know when we'd all be together like that again.

~~~~~~~~~~

When it came time for our early morning departure back to Korea, Mrs. Sim took us both in for a tight hug, her eyes brimming with tears. "Take care of each other," she whispered hoarsely. Jake grabs our suitcases out of the trunk and his mom pulls me to the side.

“Please promise to take care of him for me. You have always been a safe place for him, I can only imagine how he has been feeling” she begged. I held bother of her hands in the palms of mine. “I promise, Mrs Sim, I will do everything in my power to take care of him, don’t worry. You have other things to worry about” I reassure her pulling her into a hug.

Layla climbs through the back of the car from the front seat and jumps out of the trunk to say good bye, jumping all over me and Jake just like when we first arrived. “Yes you’re such a good girl” he scruffs up her ears while giving her a kiss on the forehead. I gave Layla some belly rubs before his mom guided her back into the car.

“Please text me when you board, and call me when you land, I need to know that the two of you are safe.” said his mom. “Of course” we pulled her into one last hug. “I love you guys” she sobbed “I love you too” we said in unison as we walked towards to enterance, leaving his mom in the parking lot.

~~~~~~~~~~

The ride back home was hard for Jake. 10 hours of restlessness. The only time I saw Jake act kind of okay was at our layover in Manila. I tried to leave him be for most of the trip.

We landed at the airport in Seoul and made our way back through customs and immigration, I swear the process of getting out of the airport is more stressful than planing a trip itself. We load our things into my car, missing the excitement that Layla brought to the car ride.

Before we got into the car, Jake comes behind me and turns me around into a hug. “I am really worried about her… my parents have been together for so long I can’t imagine how she would react with out him” he cried into my arms. “Your mom is a strong woman, I know it. She has you and I know she will be able to get through it.” I rub his back and lay my head into the crook of his neck.

I walk him over to his door and open it, letting him get into is and rest, we still had a 45 minute drive back to our place. I just let him ‘rest’ his eyes the whole way and I sat in silence trying not to wake him. The ride was bumpy, or maybe I was more aware of my surroundings not given that Jake wasn’t talking my ear off the whole time. I don’t mean it as a bad thing but he does a great job at keeping me company in the car. But that element was absent this time.

We were outside of our house quicker than expected. Jake was still fast asleep, he looked up he most peaceful than I have seen him these past few weeks I really did not want to wake him up. “Jakey we’re here” I whisper and gently grip his shoulder. He groans. He untucks his arms from under his shirt and rubs his eyes, trying to adjust to the light.

We make way up to the door, he didn’t bother grabbing anything out of the car but I was completely okay with grabbing everything if it meant he would get some rest. As soon as we stepped in the door, he took off his shoes and hurried to his bedroom, he didn’t ever bother changing his clothes before plopping onto his bed in pure exhaustion.

I found myself following him to the bed and sitting on the edge and grazing his back with my fingernails. My hands made way up to his hair and I combed his strands with my fingers. He turns over to lay on his back and I sit and admire his beautiful face while his eyes are closed. So peaceful. I couldn’t fight the urge to lean down and give his a soft peck before heading back to the car.

He didn’t seem to mind, his lips were soft as they instantly melted into mine for a few seconds. He didn’t seem supprised or shocked at all. He made it feel natural. “Thank you” he said, barely audible. I leaned in for another kiss, a smile building on my face as our lips met. No verbal response was needed, my smile against his spoke for itself.

~~~~~~~~~~

We had gotten back into our normal work and school schedule following the break. I still was not seeing Jake as much as I would like and it seems like I was getting less and less information by the day on his dad, which worried me. I tried to call Mrs Sim every single day to check in and get updates, as well as update her on mine and Jake’s life. She treated me like a friend. Like a daughter. I am very thankful to be accepted by her in that way.

Jake was clearly getting more stressed with work and school and I couldn’t figure out a way to ease the stress for him, all I could do was hope that it wouldn’t end up being too much.

Mrs Sim told me briefly once while we were on a phone call that me and her call way more often that her and Jake do. Jake has always been a texter and his Mom simply had to deal with not hearing her baby boys voice as often as she would like, which is why it was weird when me and Jake were laying in my bed around 11pm and his phone starts ringing.

Both of us were on the verge of falling asleep and the light from his phone screen made the situation more uncomfortable. At first Jake just reached over and turned off the ringer.

“Hey did you even see who it was? What if it was important” I question his instinct to end the call. “Fine let me look” he groans.

He reached over and grabs his phone and looks at the screen ‘Mom’ is what it read. “Answer it!” I urged him. Jake was hesitant. I think he thought that this was going to be the call, which he has been preparing to avoid at all costs.

Instead of letting the line go to voicemail, I snatch the phone out of his hand and answer if myself. “Hello Mrs Sim, is everything alright?”

“I am so glad to hear your voice. Is Jake around? It is important. Put it on speaker” she said.

“You’re on speaker” I informed her.

“Jake, your father is home, I picked him up about an hour ago. The doctor said that septic shock caused him to go into the coma, and they were able to treat the infection and keep him steady with some blood and IV fluids. He woke up yesterday and has shown no signs of complication ever since. I will take him back in a few days for testing and a check up. They saved him Jake… They saved him.” His mother explained ecstatically, crying tears of happiness.

Jake’s face immediately lit up, with what I could see from the light of the phone screen. He instantly started crying.

“Baby I wish you were here right now. he misses you so much” he claimed.

Jake couldn’t even speak through his tears and his hitched breathing. “I love you so much mom, tell dad I love him and I will see him soon”

He sets the phone down and buries his face into my chest, letting out full on sobs. the toll that this situation has taken on his body physically and mentally was very obvious and I know he has been wanting good news.

~~~~~~~~~~

Weeks had passed and we came back to Australia for the Winter break. Jake was more excited than ever. When he saw his dad get out of the car at the airport, I had never see Jake run so fast in my life. Their hug seemed like it was out of a movie and he had been latched to his dad everyday since being back at his house.

His parents kind of picked up on me and Jake’s relationship, and didn’t question why I was wanting to sleep in Jake’s room and not the guest room any more.

We were laying there facing each other, admiring each others beauty in the dim moon light shining through the blinds.

“Tell me Jake, do you believe in fate?” I questioned lowly.

He looks somewhat startled. “Y’know, I have never really thought about that. After everything that has happened this year, I think I would say that I do” he confirmed, stroking my cheek with his thumb.

“Yeah I think I do too”

741 notes · View notes

novaursa · 7 months ago

Text

The Veil of Fire (1/3)

- Summary: Your twin sister, Helaena, had her dreams, but you were gifted with something else. Something akin to a terrible purpose.

- Pairing: aunt!reader/Jacaerys Velaryon

- Note: reader is referred to as Y/N, is Helaena's twin sister, is bonded with Cannibal (whom she named Morgoth after she claimed him). This is a request made by @witch-of-letters. Enjoy! ❤️

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Word count: 6 000+

- Next part: 2

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff

You awaken with a start, the remnants of the dream clinging to your senses like the lingering taste of copper in your mouth. It is dark in your chamber, the only light coming from the embers in the hearth, glowing faintly. But the darkness does nothing to dispel the vivid images seared into your mind. The dream—it had been more than just a dream. You had felt it in your bones, deep in your very marrow. The wind tearing at your scales as you soared through the sky, the scent of earth and sweat and blood sharp in your nostrils. The primal rush as you descended upon the stag, powerful legs pumping beneath you, muscles rippling as you gave chase.

The terror of the creature, so swift and yet so hopeless in the face of your overwhelming might, fed the fire in your belly. You could almost feel the earth quake beneath you as you landed, talons digging into the soft flesh of your prey, the crack of bones as they gave way under your weight. You remember the feel of the stag's fur against your tongue, the rich, metallic taste of blood flooding your senses as your teeth sunk deep into its flesh. It was alive in your mouth, a creature of warmth and life, and you were devouring it, piece by piece, savoring every ounce of its struggle, every pulse of its weakening heart.

The taste of victory, of dominance, of absolute power was intoxicating. As the last breath of the stag left its body, you were filled with a sense of completion, a satisfaction that was both yours and not yours, a feeling of wholeness that was almost too much to bear. It wasn’t just a dream—it was real. You had been there, felt what Morgoth—no, Cannibal, as you still sometimes thought of him—had felt. His hunger, his pleasure, his savage satisfaction as he fed. And now, even awake, you can still taste the blood in your mouth, feel the last echoes of the stag’s death rattle through you.

You shudder, trying to shake off the remnants of the dream as you sit up in bed. Your hand instinctively moves to your lips, as if to wipe away the lingering blood, though you know there is nothing there. The room is cold, and you pull the blankets tighter around yourself, your mind still reeling from the intensity of the vision.

Your twin sister, Helaena, is already awake, sitting up in her own bed, her pale eyes fixed on you. There is an odd stillness to her, a knowingness that unnerves you, even after all these years.

"I had a nightmare," you murmur, your voice still thick with sleep, and something else—something darker, more primal.

Helaena tilts her head slightly, her gaze never leaving yours. "It was not a nightmare," she says softly, her voice almost a whisper. "It was a transfer. You were not here with me."

Her words send a chill down your spine, colder than the night air. "A transfer?" you repeat, confused. "I don’t understand, Helaena. I was dreaming, nothing more. Perhaps you had your own troubles sleeping?"

Helaena’s eyes narrow slightly, her lips curving into a faint, enigmatic smile. "You were not here," she insists, her voice taking on a strange, faraway quality. "You were flying, far away, with Morgoth."

You shake your head, trying to dispel the unease that her words are stirring within you. "It was just a dream, Helaena," you say, though even as the words leave your mouth, they feel like a lie. You’ve always known your twin to be different, but this—this feels like something more. "You must have had a vision of your own."

She doesn’t respond, just continues to look at you with those unsettling eyes, as if she’s peering into the very depths of your soul. Finally, she lies back down, turning away from you, but her words linger in the air like a specter. "You were not here," she repeats, her voice a mere whisper now. "You were with him."

You lie back down as well, but sleep doesn’t come easily. Your mind is too full of the dream, of Helaena’s words, of the feeling that something has shifted, that a line has been crossed that cannot be uncrossed. You close your eyes, trying to will yourself to rest, but your thoughts keep drifting back to Jacaerys.

Jace, with his warm smile and kind eyes, always so patient with you, so different from the court’s intrigues and serpentine whispers. You’ve missed him terribly since he left with Rhaenyra, Laenor, and the boys. The court has been quieter without them, yet the air is heavier, thick with rumors and distrust. The question of Jace’s parentage has always loomed like a dark cloud, and now it has become a storm, too dangerous for him and his family to weather here.

You think of the last time you saw him, his eyes lingering on yours as they said their farewells. The way his hand lingered a moment too long on yours, the way he looked back at you just before he left, as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words. You had always been close, closer even than you were with your own brothers at times, and now, with him gone, there is an emptiness in your heart that nothing seems to fill.

You turn onto your side, curling into the warmth of your blankets, trying to hold onto the memory of his touch, his scent, the sound of his laughter. But it’s not enough. The dream still lingers at the edges of your mind, dark and unsettling, reminding you that something has changed, and there is no going back.

As sleep finally begins to claim you once more, your last thoughts are of Jacaerys, of the feel of his hand in yours, and of the unsettling certainty that you will see him again, sooner than you think.

The morning sun bathes the corridors of the Red Keep in a golden light as you walk beside your grandsire, Otto Hightower. The stone walls are cool to the touch, yet the warmth of the day is beginning to creep in, making the air heavy with the scent of the sea and blooming flowers from the gardens below. Your steps echo in the hall, the only sound that accompanies you and your grandsire in this moment of relative peace.

Otto’s face is a mask of calm, but you can sense the sharp mind working behind his serene expression. You know this walk well; it is not merely a stroll for him. This is his opportunity to nudge, to guide, to mold. He has always tried to draw you into the labyrinth of court politics, eager to make use of your sharp mind and keen understanding of people. But you have learned to navigate these conversations with him, dancing on the edge of engagement without ever fully stepping into the web he so carefully weaves.

"My dear," Otto begins, his voice smooth and measured, "you have a gift, one that could be put to great use in the service of the realm. You see things others do not, understand the currents beneath the surface. The court could benefit greatly from your wisdom, if only you would take a more active role."

You smile at him, the kind of smile that is both warm and guarded. "Grandsire, I am flattered by your confidence in me. But you know well that my talents are better suited to other pursuits. The court is a place where serpents nest, and I find I have no desire to dance with them."

Otto chuckles softly, though you catch the slight tightening around his eyes. "You underestimate your ability to navigate those waters, my dear. You could influence so much, bring about changes that would secure the future of our house."

"And yet," you say with a lightness that belies the weight of the conversation, "I prefer to leave the dancing to others. I fulfill my duties, attend the necessary events, but beyond that, I find little joy in the games played at court. I would rather debate philosophy with Aemond than trade barbs with courtiers."

Otto regards you for a moment, his eyes searching yours for any sign of wavering. But you meet his gaze steadily, unwavering in your resolve. He knows this is not a battle he can win today, and so he shifts tactics, as you knew he would.

"Very well," he concedes with a graceful nod, "but remember, the tides of power are ever-changing. One must be ready to act when the moment calls for it."

"Of course, grandsire," you reply with another smile, "and I shall be ready, should that moment come. But until then, I am content with the life I lead."

With that, you part ways, Otto heading off to attend to his duties, and you, seeking out a quieter corner of the Keep where the air is less thick with the weight of expectations. Your feet carry you towards the gardens, the place where you often find solace amidst the chaos of court life. As you turn a corner, you spot Aegon lounging lazily on a stone bench beneath the shade of a flowering tree, his usual air of indifference more pronounced today.

"Aegon," you call out lightly, drawing his attention. "Enjoying the morning sun, or simply avoiding whatever task you’ve been assigned?"

He looks up at you with a lazy grin, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. "A bit of both, I suppose. Though I’m more inclined to say it’s the latter."

You chuckle, making your way over to him. "If Mother knew you were hiding away here, she’d have you by the ear and back to your duties in no time."

"She already did," Aegon replies with a huff, his grin fading as he turns his gaze to the ground. "And now I’m banished to the gardens, like some sulking child."

You take a seat beside him, the cool stone of the bench pressing against your legs through the fabric of your dress. "What did you do this time?"

He shrugs, the motion casual, but there’s a heaviness to it that you don’t miss. "Nothing out of the ordinary. Just being me, I suppose. That’s enough to earn her wrath these days."

You study him for a moment, the way his shoulders slump slightly, the way he avoids meeting your eyes. There’s a sadness there, one that he tries to hide behind his usual carefree facade. "Aegon," you say gently, "Mother’s harshness comes from a place of worry, not disdain. She sees the weight of the crown on Father’s head, and she fears for all of us. But she does love you, in her own way."

He scoffs, though it lacks real bite. "Love. If that’s what it is, it’s a cruel kind. Always pointing out my flaws, my failures. It’s never enough."

"It’s because she knows you’re capable of more," you counter, your tone soft but firm. "You’re not as lost as you think, Aegon. You’re intelligent, resourceful. You just have to find your own path, not the one others lay out for you."

Aegon finally looks at you, his expression softening as he lets out a long breath. "It’s hard, you know? Everyone expects so much. And I…I just want to live my life, without all the expectations and responsibilities."

You reach out and place a hand on his arm, squeezing gently. "I understand, truly. But there’s strength in you, even if you don’t see it yet. You don’t have to be what they want you to be, but you can be something even greater, something that’s truly yours."

He seems to mull over your words, his gaze drifting to the horizon. After a long silence, he nods slowly. "Maybe you’re right," he says quietly. "I don’t know what that is yet, but…I’ll try to find it."

You smile, a genuine warmth in it that you hope reaches him. "That’s all anyone can ask, Aegon. And when you do find it, I’ll be here to support you."

He offers a small smile in return, the first real one you’ve seen from him today. "Thank you," he murmurs, the words carrying more weight than usual. "It means a lot."

You sit together in comfortable silence for a while, the only sounds the rustling of leaves in the breeze and the distant hum of the Keep. In this moment, it feels as though the weight of the world has lessened, if only a little, and you’re glad to have been the one to ease it for him.

The heavy gown slips from your shoulders with a soft whisper of fabric, pooling at your feet like a dark river. The rich, embroidered silks and velvets, so carefully chosen to display your status, now lie forgotten as your maids bustle around you, their hands quick and efficient as they assist in your transformation.

You step out of the pile of fabric and lift your arms as one of your maids, a young woman with deft fingers and a quiet disposition, helps you into your dragon riding attire. Unlike the gowns you wear at court, this garb is practical, made for both protection and ease of movement. The underlayer is a tightly fitted tunic of black leather, reinforced at the shoulders and elbows, molded to your form to allow freedom of movement while still offering protection. The leather is soft, well-worn from many flights, and carries the faint scent of smoke and salt.

Over the tunic, you wear a jerkin of thicker, darker leather, fastened with a series of silver clasps shaped like small dragon heads. The jerkin is adorned with subtle stitching along the edges, a nod to your Targaryen heritage without being ostentatious. It is practical, yet elegant, a reflection of the dual roles you play as both a princess and a dragonrider. Your legs are encased in fitted breeches, made of the same durable leather, allowing you to move with agility. Your boots, worn and scuffed from years of riding, reach up to your knees, their soles thick and sturdy, perfect for gripping the saddle as Morgoth soars through the skies.

The final piece is a cloak of deep, midnight blue, clasped at your throat with a small, intricate pin in the shape of a dragon. The cloak is lined with fur to guard against the biting wind at high altitudes, and it flares out behind you as you move, a dark shadow that mirrors the wings of your dragon.

As your maids finish securing your attire, you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. Gone is the elegant lady of the court, replaced by the fierce dragonrider you truly are. There is a spark of excitement in your eyes, a fire that matches the one that burns in Morgoth's belly. You can feel the pull of the sky, the need to be aloft, to leave behind the walls of the Red Keep and the stifling confines of court life.

"Is there anything else, my lady?" one of the maids asks, her voice pulling you from your thoughts.

You shake your head, offering her a small smile. "No, that will be all. Thank you."

The maids curtsy and quickly leave the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts. Your hand drifts to the small, secret pocket sewn into the lining of your cloak, where the letter from Jace is hidden. You had read it only once, the words burning themselves into your memory, but you still find comfort in its presence. The letters you exchange are a lifeline, a connection that spans the distance between you. Each one is a reminder of the bond you share, a bond that goes beyond mere affection.

Tonight, you will see him again, on that small, isolated island halfway between Dragonstone and the Red Keep. It’s a risky endeavor, but one you would undertake a thousand times over just to be near him. The thought of it sends a thrill through you, a heady mix of excitement and nervous anticipation. The world fades away when you're with Jace, and in those stolen moments, nothing else matters.

A knock on the door pulls you from your reverie. "My lady, the escort is ready," a voice calls from the other side.

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself, and stride to the door. The servant outside bows as you step into the hallway, and you nod in acknowledgment. The corridors of the Red Keep are quieter now, with the court winding down for the evening. Only a few guards and servants move about, most paying little attention to you as you make your way towards the exit. You’ve done this before, taking lone flights on Morgoth to clear your mind, so it raises no suspicion.

As you exit the Keep and step into the crisp evening air, you are met by a small escort of guards, their armor gleaming in the fading light. They bow respectfully as you approach. Ser Arryk, a knight who has always been loyal to your house, steps forward.

"Princess, the city is quiet tonight," he reports, his voice steady. "We should reach the gate without incident."

"Thank you, Ser Arryk," you reply, your tone composed. "Let us be on our way."

The streets of King’s Landing are already beginning to empty as the last rays of sunlight give way to dusk. The city is alive with the sounds and smells of the evening—vendors packing up their wares, the distant laughter of tavern-goers, the occasional cry of a child being called home. The guards flank you as you move through the city, their presence deterring any who might think to approach. You walk with purpose, the letter in your pocket a constant reminder of where you are headed.

Morgoth, too wild and too large to be kept within the confines of the Dragonpit, dwells outside the city walls, beyond where the common folk dare to tread. He is a creature of the wilds, as much a part of the untamed lands as the mountains and the sea. His presence near the Red Keep has always been a subject of whispered fear, his black wings casting long shadows over the city whenever he takes to the skies. But to you, he is a part of your soul, a living extension of your own fierce spirit.

As you near the city gates, the guards step aside, allowing you passage into the wild lands beyond. The air grows cooler, crisper, as you leave the city behind. The path to Morgoth's lair is one you know well, the ground beneath your feet familiar with every step. The distant roar of the sea fills your ears, the wind tugging at your cloak as you make your way to the clearing where Morgoth waits.

The last light of day fades as you approach, the sky deepening to a dark indigo, dotted with the first stars of the evening. The clearing comes into view, and there, amidst the ancient stones and gnarled trees, lies Morgoth. His massive form is a dark silhouette against the twilight sky, his eyes glowing like green embers as he senses your approach.

He is truly a beast of legend, larger and more fearsome than any other dragon, his scales the color of a moonless night, his wings vast enough to blot out the stars when fully spread. The ground trembles slightly as he shifts, his long neck arching as he watches you, a low, rumbling growl vibrating through the earth.

You step forward, your heart pounding with anticipation, the thrill of the night’s secret mission pulsing through your veins. "Morgoth," you call softly, your voice steady despite the excitement thrumming in your chest.

The dragon's head lowers, his massive eyes locking onto yours, and you feel the bond between you flare to life. It is a connection deeper than words, a shared understanding that transcends the physical. Morgoth is wild, untamed, but with you, he is something more—a partner, a companion, an extension of your very being.

With practiced ease, you approach him, your hand reaching out to touch the warm, rough scales of his snout. His breath is hot against your skin, smelling of smoke and ash, a reminder of the power he holds. You climb onto his back, settling into the saddle that you alone are permitted to fasten, your hands gripping the reins made from his own shed scales, as strong as they are rare.

The world around you falls away, the concerns of the court and the whispers of the city fading into nothingness. There is only the sky, the wind, and the thrill of the flight that awaits.

Morgoth shifts beneath you, his muscles bunching as he prepares to take to the air. You grip the saddle, your heart pounding with anticipation as you give the command. With a powerful leap, Morgoth surges forward, his wings unfurling as he takes flight, the ground dropping away beneath you.

The Red Keep, the city, all of it becomes a blur as you ascend higher and higher, the cool air rushing past you as Morgoth climbs. The exhilaration of flight fills you, and a smile breaks across your face as the stars begin to twinkle above.

Ahead of you lies the sea, vast and endless, and beyond it, the small island where Jace waits. The excitement in your chest grows, and you lean forward, urging Morgoth to fly faster, to close the distance between you and the one who holds your heart.

As Morgoth soars through the night sky, the wind whipping past you, your thoughts drift back to the dream that haunted your sleep not long ago. The memory of it is still so vivid, so real, that it feels as if it only just happened. You can still feel the weight of the stag beneath Morgoth's talons, the warm gush of blood filling your mouth as you tore into its flesh. The primal satisfaction of the hunt, the raw power, the unrestrained hunger—it had all felt too real to be merely a dream.

You tighten your grip on the reins, leaning forward slightly as you speak to Morgoth, though you know he cannot answer. "Was it real?" you murmur, your voice barely audible above the wind. "Did I truly see through your eyes? Did I feel what you felt?"

Morgoth’s only response is a deep, rumbling growl, a sound that resonates through your very bones. His wings beat powerfully against the cool night air, carrying you both further away from the Red Keep, further from the world of politics and courtly intrigue, and closer to the freedom that you both crave.

You gaze down at the world below, the dark expanse of the sea stretching out like a vast, endless void. The moonlight reflects off the water, casting silver trails across its surface, guiding you toward the small island where you know Jace is waiting. The thrill of the flight, the rush of anticipation in your veins, mingles with the lingering unease from the dream. Was it merely a manifestation of your bond with Morgoth, or was it something more? Some deeper connection that you had only begun to glimpse?

"Do you see me in your dreams, Morgoth?" you ask softly, your words carried away by the wind. "Do you dream of me as I dream of you?"

There is no answer, only the steady rhythm of Morgoth’s wings and the distant sound of the waves crashing against the shore. But you can feel his presence, strong and unyielding, as if he understands you on some level beyond speech, beyond even thought. The bond you share is ancient, primal, and it is moments like these that remind you of the power and mystery of the Targaryen blood that runs through your veins.

As the island comes into view, you spot Vermax, Jace's dragon, already perched on the rocky shore. His bronze and green scales glint in the moonlight, his eyes glowing with an inner fire. And there, standing beside him, is Jace. Even from a distance, you can see the way he searches the skies, his gaze sharp and eager as he waits for you.

Your heart swells at the sight of him, and you urge Morgoth to descend, your excitement growing with each passing second. Morgoth dips his wings, angling downward in a graceful arc as he begins his descent. The wind rushes past you, carrying with it the scent of salt and seaweed, the coolness of the night air mingling with the warmth of the dragon beneath you.

As you near the ground, Morgoth lands with a heavy thud, his powerful legs absorbing the impact with ease. The ground trembles beneath you as he settles, his wings folding against his massive body. You waste no time in dismounting, your feet barely touching the ground before you are running toward Jace.

"Jace!" you call out, your voice filled with the joy of seeing him again.

He turns at the sound of your voice, his face lighting up with a smile that warms you to your core. "You’re here," he breathes, his voice thick with emotion as he strides forward to meet you.

The moment you reach him, you throw yourself into his arms, and he catches you effortlessly, pulling you close against him. The feel of his body, warm and solid beneath your hands, sends a wave of relief and happiness coursing through you. It has been too long since you last held him, too long since you felt the safety and comfort of his embrace.

"Gods, I’ve missed you," Jace murmurs into your hair, his voice rough with longing. He holds you tightly, as if afraid that you might slip away if he lets go.

"I’ve missed you too," you reply, your voice muffled against his chest. You can feel the steady beat of his heart beneath your cheek, a reassuring rhythm that calms the storm of emotions inside you.

He pulls back just enough to look down at you, his dark eyes searching yours with an intensity that makes your breath catch. "Are you all right? You seem…troubled."

You hesitate, the memory of the dream flickering at the edges of your mind. But in this moment, with Jace holding you, with the warmth of his gaze and the solidity of his presence, the fear seems distant, almost insignificant. "I’m all right now," you tell him softly, reaching up to cup his face in your hands. "Now that I’m with you."

Jace leans into your touch, closing his eyes for a brief moment as if savoring the feel of your skin against his. Then he opens them again, and you can see the resolve in his expression, the determination to protect you, to keep you safe.

"I worried about you," he admits, his voice low and earnest. "The court, the whispers, everything happening back at King’s Landing… It’s dangerous for you there."

You shake your head, smiling up at him with a tenderness that only he can bring out in you. "I’m safe, Jace. I know how to navigate the court. And besides," you add with a playful glint in your eye, "I have Morgoth to keep me safe. No one would dare cross me with him by my side."

Jace chuckles at that, his grip on you tightening slightly as he pulls you closer. "That’s true enough. I just wish you didn’t have to be in that vipers' nest at all."

You sigh softly, resting your head against his shoulder as you let yourself relax in his arms. "We all have our roles to play, Jace. But right now, none of that matters. Right now, we’re here, together."

He leans down, pressing a tender kiss to the top of your head, then your forehead, and finally, your lips. The kiss is soft at first, a gentle caress that speaks of all the longing and love you’ve both held inside for so long. But as the kiss deepens, it becomes more intense, more urgent, as if you are both trying to make up for all the time you’ve spent apart.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer as you lose yourself in the feel of him, the taste of him. He responds in kind, his hands roaming your back, holding you as if he can’t bear to let you go. The world around you falls away, leaving only the two of you, locked in this moment, in this kiss, in this shared need for one another.

When you finally pull back, both of you are breathless, your foreheads resting together as you catch your breath. Jace’s eyes are dark with desire, his gaze roaming over your face as if committing every detail to memory.

"Come," he whispers, his voice husky with emotion. "Let’s not waste any more time."

You nod, a soft smile tugging at your lips as you take his hand, allowing him to lead you away from the dragons and toward the secluded spot he has prepared for you. The night is yours, and in the quiet stillness of the island, away from prying eyes and the weight of duty, you find a peace and happiness that you can only share with Jace.

The secluded spot Jace leads you to is a small, hidden grove, shielded from the wind by a cluster of tall, ancient trees. The moonlight filters through the leaves, casting dappled patterns of silver on the ground. The soft rustle of the leaves in the breeze is the only sound, a gentle backdrop to the intimacy of the moment.

Jace pulls you close again, his hands warm on your waist as he gazes down at you, his eyes filled with a mix of affection and longing. "It feels like a dream," he murmurs, his voice soft as if afraid to break the spell of the night. "Every time I see you again, I wonder if it’s real or if I’ll wake up and find you gone."

"It’s real," you assure him, reaching up to brush your fingers along his cheek. His skin is warm beneath your touch, the faintest hint of stubble rough against your fingertips. "And I’m here, with you. That’s all that matters."

He leans down, capturing your lips in another kiss, this one slower, more tender. It’s a kiss that speaks of promises, of the love that binds you both together despite the distance and the dangers that surround you. You lose yourself in it, in the feel of his lips against yours, in the way his hands hold you as if you’re the most precious thing in the world.

Time seems to stretch, the moment lasting an eternity, yet passing too quickly. When the kiss finally ends, you rest your head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. Jace’s arms wrap around you, holding you close, his chin resting on the top of your head.

"I wish we could stay like this," he whispers, his voice filled with a wistful longing. "I wish the world could just disappear, and it could be just us, here, now."

You smile softly, the sentiment echoing in your own heart. "Me too," you admit. "But we have our duties, our roles to play. As much as I’d like to, we can’t escape that."

Jace sighs, his breath warm against your hair. "I know. But that doesn’t mean I have to like it."

You chuckle softly, your fingers tracing idle patterns on his chest. "Neither do I. But we’ll see each other again. We always do."

He nods, though the reluctance to let you go is clear in the way he holds you just a bit tighter. You stay like that for a while longer, savoring the warmth of his embrace, the peace of the moment.

Eventually, you pull back slightly, your gaze drifting to a small patch of moonlit grass where something catches your eye. A tiny insect, its wings shimmering with iridescent colors, flutters by. Your instincts kick in, the familiar habit born of your bond with your twin sister, Helaena. You reach out quickly, your fingers deftly capturing the insect before it can fly away.

Jace watches you curiously, a smile tugging at his lips as you carefully place the insect into a small wooden box you carry with you. "What are you doing?" he asks, amusement lacing his tone. "Collecting insects now, are we?"

You grin up at him, closing the box gently to keep the creature safe. "It’s for Helaena," you explain. "She loves them, you know. This one’s new, I think—she doesn’t have one like it yet."

Jace raises an eyebrow, clearly entertained. "You brought a box just for that?"

"Of course," you reply with a playful glint in your eye. "You never know when you’ll find something she doesn’t have. It’s like a game between us. I find them, and she studies them."

He chuckles, shaking his head slightly in disbelief. "You really are the perfect sister, aren’t you?"

You shrug, a smile still playing on your lips. "She’s my twin. We’ve always been close. It’s a small thing, but it makes her happy."

Jace’s expression softens, and he reaches out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "You’re a good person, you know that?"

You roll your eyes, though his words warm you. "I try," you say lightly, though you know he sees the sincerity behind your words.

But as the moment stretches, you both become acutely aware that your time together is slipping away. The reality of your separate lives looms ever closer, and the weight of the impending farewell presses down on you.

"I hate saying goodbye," Jace admits, his voice barely above a whisper. "Every time, it feels harder."

You nod, feeling the same ache in your chest. "I know. But we’ll see each other again, Jace. We always do. Until then, we have our letters, and our memories."

He cups your face in his hands, his thumbs gently brushing your cheeks. "I’ll write to you as soon as I can," he promises. "And the next time we meet, I won’t let anything keep us apart for so long."

You smile, though it’s tinged with sadness. "I’ll hold you to that."

For a moment, you just stand there, your foreheads pressed together, breathing in the same air, holding on to the last remnants of your time together. The world around you is silent, as if it too knows the gravity of the moment.

Then, with a quiet resolve, Jace pulls you into one last, passionate kiss. It’s a kiss that sears itself into your memory, filled with all the love, longing, and unspoken words between you. His arms wrap around you, holding you as close as he can, as if trying to fuse you together so that you’ll never have to part again.

When the kiss finally breaks, you’re both breathless, your hearts pounding in unison. You rest your forehead against his, your eyes closed as you try to hold on to the feeling of his lips on yours, the warmth of his body against you.

"I’ll see you soon," you whisper, your voice trembling slightly with the effort to keep the tears at bay.

He nods, though you can see the same struggle in his eyes. "Soon," he agrees, his voice thick with emotion.

With great reluctance, you finally step back, your fingers lingering on his for just a moment longer before you let go. The distance between you feels like a chasm, but you know it’s only temporary. Even so, the ache in your chest remains as you turn and make your way back to Morgoth.

Jace watches you go, his eyes never leaving you until you’re back at your dragon’s side. As you mount Morgoth, you take one last look at him, committing his face, his expression, to memory.

With a final nod, you signal Morgoth to take flight. The powerful dragon launches into the sky, his wings beating against the air as he carries you away from the island, away from Jace.

The night sky stretches out before you, the stars shining brightly above, but your thoughts remain with the boy you left behind. You clutch the small wooden box in your hand, a token of your love for your sister, but also a reminder of the love you share with Jace, a love that will bring you back to him, no matter the distance or the dangers that lie ahead.

#house of the dragon #hotd #hotd x female reader #hotd x you #hotd x y/n #hotd x reader #jace velaryon #jace x reader #jace x you #jace x y/n #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys x reader #jacerys x reader #jacaerys x you #jacaerys x y/n

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v6quewrlds · 4 months ago

Note

How I met your mother after your daughter gets her heart broken

the front door slammed shut, and your teenage daughter, noa, stomped into the kitchen, her school bag dropping heavily to the floor. your smile faltered and joe straightened.

"noa? what's wrong, hon?" you asked gently, setting down the knife and turning to face her.

noa's eyes were red-rimmed, and her face was flushed. "i broke up with chance," she blurted out, her voice wavering. your heart sank, and you stepped closer, your arms instinctively reaching out to offer comfort. "he cheated on me," noa's voice cracked and a stream of tears trailed down her cheek.

your expression grew stern, and you shot joe a warning look, silently reminding him to keep his scowling in check. "oh, munchkin. that's terrible. do you want to talk about it?" you cooed, guiding noa to the kitchen island and pulling out a chair.

"it's just… i didn't expect it," noa sniffled, her eyes downcast. "some girl he works with texted me. she said they've been going on dates behind my back."

"that little…" joe's fists clenched, his jaw tightening. you laid a hand on his forearm, silencing him with a squeeze. "is there anything you want me to do, munchkin?" joe asked, his voice characteristically even though you knew he was seething.

"no," noa mumbled, shaking her head. "nothing that you won't end up on the news for, dad," she said with a weak smile, trying to lighten the mood. you couldn't help but laugh at joe's concession, despite the situation.

"wait, actually dad, can i ask you something?" noa's question snapped joe out of his anger-induced silence. he took a deep breath, nodding for her to continue. "how did you know you wanted to marry mom?" she asked, wiping at her tears with the back of her hand.

joe leaned against the counter, folding his arms over his chest, a fond smile playing on his lips. "well, it took me a long time to convince her to even go out with me," he began.

"oh, come on," you playfully rolled your eyes. "you make it sound like i was being unreasonable."

joe smirked. "weren't you? you had me jumping through hoops for months before you said yes to a first date that you swore wasn't a date."

you couldn't argue with that, your laugh bubbling up at the memory. "well, i had to make sure you were worth it," you quipped, nudging him with your elbow. "you were this hotshot quarterback, and i didn't want to be just another notch on your belt."

joe's eyes lit up with mirth. "and what made you decide i was worth it?"

you paused, your gaze flicking up to his baby blues. "it was the way you talked to my mom at the florida game. you were so respectful and kind to her, even when i was giving you the cold shoulder."

joe chuckled. "your mom was my biggest fan before you wanted anything to do with me." he turned to noa, his expression softening. "but the moment i knew i wanted to marry your mom was when i hurt my knee my rookie year. she didn't let me look down on myself, didn't let me feel sorry for myself. she was the first one to tell me to get back up and fight for what i wanted."

noa listened, her eyes on her dad, taking in his words like a sponge.

"it was your mom's way of showing me what real love and support looked like," joe said, his voice serious. "when you find someone who believes in you, even when you don't believe in yourself, that's when you know."

noa nodded, her eyes still glued to her dad. "what about you, mom? when did you know?" she asked, looking at you with a glimmer of hope.

you took a deep breath, your thoughts drifting back to the early days of your relationship. "don't laugh, okay?" you began, a grin spreading across your face. "but it was when my grandma was moving out of her old house. your dad insisted on tagging along for the 7-hour drive even though he had never met her before. he was so patient, so helpful, carrying boxes and assembling furniture like it was his own grandma."

joe's cheeks flushed slightly at your revelation. "i don't remember that being particularly romantic," he said with a chuckle.

"oh, it was very romantic. especially when you were arguing with my brother over which way the couch should face," you said, your eyes sparkling at the memory. "it was like you fit right in with the crazy. arguing with my brother, laughing with my grandma, and debating capitalism with my dad. it was perfect."

joe leaned in closer to you, his gaze filled with affection. "wasn't that the trip that i asked your parents for their blessing?"

you nodded, your smile pulling wider. "yeah, when you threw up in the bathroom just before you asked and i had to convince you that you weren't gonna die. i had no clue why you were so nervous," you said, your voice filled with the warmth of nostalgia.

joe could only grumble as noa laughed at his expense. "thanks for sharing that, babe."

#&. joey b.#joe burrow #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow imagine #joey burrow #joe burrow fanfic #joe burrow bengals #joeyb #joe burrow fic #joe burrow fluff #joe burrow fan fic #x black fem reader #x black reader #black fem reader #black reader

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strang3lov3 · 2 months ago

Text

Crimson

You're bleeding, and Jack just can't help himself.

Tags - jack delroy x reader, dubcon/noncon, smut, unprotected piv, creampie, period sex, rough sex, blood kink, period kink, oral sex (f!receiving), fingering, masturbation, pain kink, bit of fearplay if you squint, bit of manhandling, age gap, panty sniffing and stealing, pervy!jack, dark!jack. 4.5k words A/N - i haven't written jack in so long! but what can i say. i was in a mood. he was supposed to be nicer than this and then...idk what happened. he's kind of evil inside. but genteel, too.

After carefully vacuuming the living room floor, creating the neat lines in the shaggy, rust-colored carpet, you unplug the vacuum’s cord and wrap it up. You tuck it away neatly in the closet, then mentally take inventory of what’s left to do. The bathrooms are done, the laundry is drying. The kitchen, well - the kitchen never needs much work, with Jack being gone so often. What else needs to be cleaned? The pantry could be organized, you think. The furniture could be dusted, disinfected. Never hurts.

But you need a break. So, you wash your hands at the sink in Jack’s kitchen, then help yourself to his freezer. You crack a tray of ice and put a couple cubes into a pretty floral painted glass, then fill it the rest of the way with some lemonade you made earlier with some lemons that had seen better days a week or so ago. God, Jack is terrible about that - he buys groceries, then never eats them. You use his overripe produce to make him banana bread, casseroles, anything - and hope that he eats it through the week. And usually, he does. He’ll tell you that you sure know how to take care of a hungry man.

You sip on your lemonade as you take a seat on Jack’s cream colored sofa, then turn on the television; Night Owls is already on. You smile as Jack does his monologue, how he waves to the crowd and smiles so big, so proud. His big hand gestures, Christ. How lively he is, how wickedly charming. He’s so dapper in his suit with that colorful tie. So handsome, with his dark, intense features. Those thick, strong, brows and those dark, sparkling eyes. The camera doesn’t show it, but he has gorgeous crow’s feet wrinkles surrounding them, and they look even more gorgeous when he grins.

A gentle pitter-patter of raindrops tapping against the window begins, relaxing you. You lay on your side and turn the volume down low, focusing on the soothing noise of the rain. An ache hits your gut then - just a quiet, dull sort of pain. You clutch your stomach and bring your knees to your chest, willing away the discomfort. The rain soon lulls you to sleep, and you allow yourself to rest. Just for a half hour or so.

Jack comes home and parks his Buick in his garage, then toes his leather shoes off in the doorway. He catches a glimpse of himself in the hallway mirror, neatly polished earlier by you. His hair is disheveled from running his fingers through it on the way home, his tie loosened and dangling crooked. Jack shrugs off his suit jacket and drapes it over a chair in the dining room, then rolls up his sleeves. When he turns his head, he finds you in the living room, quietly sleeping on his couch. Jack chuckles to himself, you poor thing. Worked yourself to the bone on his account.

He makes his way closer to you and watches you sleep, how you drool on the upholstery. He stifles another chuckle. You take quiet, steady breaths, goosebumps dotting your bare skin. Jack ghosts a finger across your shoulder, up your neck and over your cheek, grinning at the way you twitch. How gorgeous you are.

His cock twitches when he thinks of being a worse man, of taking you here, just like this. Gently unbuttoning your jeans, carefully slipping the denim down the swell of your ass. He’d prop you up with a throw pillow, one you neatly fluffed while tidying up his home, and he’d bury his face between your cheeks. His big, long, perfect nose teasing your ass, tongue carefully slipping over your folds.

And you’d let him, wouldn’t you? You’d fight it at first, sure. The way you’re supposed to. Oh, but you want it. He’s no stranger to your shy, wandering eyes, your lingering stares. It’s always girls like you - demure and bashful, younger - attracted to men like him. It’s his effortless charm, his age, his power. His silvertongue - how a couple of little words said in the right way, in the right order, has girls like you taking off article after article of their clothing for him. Sinking to their knees, keeping their mouths open all nice and pretty as he fucks their throats.

“Psst,” he whispers, tickling your cheekbone with the tip of his finger. “Wake up, darling.”

Your eyelids flutter open, and there’s Jack, hovering over you. His eyes and his smile are warm, his touch tender. “There she is. Hi, you,” Jack greets you softly.

It takes you a moment to register everything, and then you scramble a bit when you realize you’ve fallen asleep longer than you intended to. Jack’s home, so it’s…what, one-thirty, two in the morning?

“Oh, shit. I’m so sorry, Mister Delroy, I fell asleep. I didn’t mean–”

Jack hushes your worrying, “Shh, it’s alright. There’s no need to be sorry, honey. Nobody’s in trouble. How about we get you some cash and get you home, hm?”

“Yeah, home,” you groggily murmur in agreement. Jack takes your hands in his own, much larger ones, noting how the pattern of the fabric is imprinted on your skin. He gently lifts you up and off of the couch, but a stain catches his eye.

Blood. Everywhere. It’s all over the spot where your bottom laid against, all wet and sticky. “Dear, hold - just hang on a second.” Jack holds your shoulders and pulls you out of the way to better inspect the stain, then spins you around to check your backside. “Uhhmm,” Jack hums, clearing his throat. “What have you got on your pants there, sweetie?” he asks softly, so gentle as he speaks. Nobody’s around, but he whispers anyway. His way of leveling himself with you, so to speak.

“What?” Oh, you. Still so sleepy, so out of it. “What’s on them?”

“It’s…well, you’ll see. It’s not bad.”

Before you turn around to try and get a look at your pants, the stain on the couch catches your eye first. “Oh my god,” you gasp, voice shaking. “Mister Delroy, I - I don’t know what happened. I don’t know what to - oh, god, your couch!” You feel sick to your stomach, seeing the mess you made on Jack’s couch. Expensive couch, probably.

“Oh, let’s not worry about the couch. Besides, it’s nothing a little bit of peroxide can’t fix, huh?” Jack says with a laugh, his attempt to ease your embarrassment. “We’ll take care of it. Let’s just get you cleaned up, okay? Come with me, sweetie. Upstairs, up we go.”

Jack wraps an arm around your shoulders and guides you out of the living room, ushering you up the steps and toward his spacious bedroom, then to his ensuite bathroom. You stand awkwardly with your back facing the corner as Jack rifles through the drawers and the cabinet under his sink. You’re very conscious of just how damp you feel, how soaked you are. God, how could you let this happen?

“Let’s see if we can’t find something in here…” he mumbles, picking through odds and ends. Cologne, toothpaste, rolls of toilet paper. Surely there’s something around here, right? A tampon leftover by one of his dates. A sanitary napkin from before his wife passed.

“Did you find anything?”

“No, not uh - not yet. Ummm…” Jack trails off, realizing he’s coming up empty. “That’s okay. You know what we’ll do? We will - I’ll give you this–” Jack pulls a clean white towel from the cabinet, then spins on his heel and hands it to you. “And you’ll take off your clothes, and then wrap up in this towel, okay? You’ll sit down and - gosh, we’ll…well, we’ll figure something else out. One step at a time,” he smiles, patting your warm cheek. He notes that you look like you’re on the verge of tears. Squirming uncomfortably, shifting from foot to foot.

Jack gives you privacy to wrap your waist in the towel, then allows you to sit on his bed. He doesn’t mind the blood, no. Not at all. But he’s placed an extra towel down for your comfort. Knows you’re embarrassed and all that, even if you don’t need to be.

“Just gonna toss your clothes in the wash, sweetie.” Jack gathers your soiled clothes in his hands before walking them to his laundry room nearby. He tosses your pants into the washer, but first studies your bloodied panties in his hands, running his thumb over the damp gusset. The beautiful shades of crimson staining the pretty lace edge, fuck. He brings the stained garment to his nose and inhales deeply, his cock twitching in his pants, before surreptitiously tucking them away in his pocket.

Jack returns to the bedroom, where you’re sitting on the edge of his bed. Feet dangling off the edge, shoulders slouched forward, arms crossed. You look at him briefly before shying away, pouting in shame. He takes a seat next to you.

“I’m really sorry about your sofa, Mister Delroy. I’ll take it to get dry cleaned and I’ll - I’ll pay, or you can dock it from my pay.”

Jack’s expression softens into a sympathetic smile. “That won’t be necessary, darling.”

“But–”

“But nothing. I don’t care about the couch, really. I care about you,” he says gently, smiling. “How are you doing, dear?”

You laugh humorlessly. “Terrible,” you reply bitterly, “This is awful. And it hurts,” you add, clutching your abdomen where the ache lingers.

Jack nods, “I can imagine.”

You and Jack go quiet then. In the heavy silence, you feel that pressure building behind your eyes, the sting of the tears welling up. You’ve made it this far without crying, but you can’t help yourself any longer. You let out a loud sniffle, then press your fingers into the corners of your eyes, desperate to stop the tears before they start.

Jack frowns, his gaze further softening. “Hey,” he speaks softly, his voice low and comforting while turning your face towards him. “What’s the matter, darling?”

“I’m so embarrassed,” you choke out tearfully. “This is just so humiliating.”

“Oh, no, no,” Jack soothes, brushing away the tears that spill down your cheeks. “It’s not embarrassing at all. It’s natural. Beautiful, even,” he adds quietly.

His words hang in the air a moment too long. Jack catches that minor slipping of the facade, and quickly pivots, his tone lighter now, “What do you say, how about I tell you an embarrassing story of mine, huh? Level out the playing field a little.”

“If you want to,” you mumble

“Oh, I insist, sweetheart,” Jack smiles, looking up a little as he recounts the memory. “Let’s see…it had to be quite a few years ago now, gosh. Maybe the second season of Night Owls? Back when I’d rely on cue cards, because I couldn’t memorize my monologues to save my life. Anyway,” he begins, “I’m up there on the stage, reading from my cards. And then - bam! I drop them everywhere.”

“...And?” you prompt, a curious smile tugging at your lips. Jack likes to see that.

“So,” he continues, “I bend down to pick them up, and my pants rip right down the middle. It’s on camera one, camera two, camera three,” he laughs, turning a little pink as he recounts the memory. “I was wearing these horrible, silly boxers.”

“What were they?”

“White with red hearts,” Jack answers, grinning sheepishly. You giggle a little, picturing it. Jack’s stunned face, so red and blushy, how he’d clutch the torn seam of his pants and do an awkward little shuffle off the stage. “Everyone sees. Everyone. My gosh, I will never live it down. I still get teased for it to this day.”

“You do?”

“Oh, yeah. It was on air, mind you, so heaven only knows how many people at home saw it too.”

You laugh fully, momentarily feeling better. You think it’s sweet how Jack tries to ease your embarrassment and discomfort, proverbially knocking himself down a peg for your sake. As your laughter fades, though, the shame returns. Jack frowns as he can see it written all over your face, how your smile falls and you turn away.

“Thank you, Mister Delroy, but I still feel so awful.”

“I know you do,” he whispers. He brings a hand to your shoulder and squeezes it comfortingly.

“I bled on your couch, and now your towels. Probably your bed, too. I bet you think I’m disgusting,” you whisper, shying away from Jack’s gaze.

“I really don’t,” he replies firmly, but keeps his tone soft.

“You do.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Jack murmurs sympathetically, taking your face in his hands. He wipes your tears away with his thumbs, but more spill in their place, falling faster than he can catch. “You know blood’s never bothered me much. You remember that, right? When I took care of that nasty cut of yours some time back?”

You do remember. It was a few months ago, and you were dusting a high shelf of Jack’s with just a rag and some Pledge, that lemon-scented kind he loves so much. After removing the picture frames and the vase, you stood on your toes and slid your cloth across the wood when something sharp ticked your fingertip. You gasped at the pain and squeezed the rag around your finger, feeling that awful, damp warmth soaking through the fabric.

You ran to Jack, who was seated on his loveseat in the living room, feet resting on the ottoman so you could vacuum the space there as he read his book. He swallowed thickly when he saw you clutching your finger with the bloodied rag, and felt his heart pound hard in his chest.

Jack thinks about the way the blood trickled down from your finger, the shiver of excitement it sent coursing through his body. He took you to the bathroom, sat you on the edge of the tub as he rifled through his toiletries for first aid supplies. He tried to subdue his arousal at the way you whined and squirmed in pain at the sting of the isopropyl alcohol he dumped on your cut. He remembers kissing the wound better, how he pressed his lips against your fingers for a moment too long. The metallic smell, that warm, heady taste.

A part of Jack wanted to slice you up more. Not much, just a little. Maybe, fuck, maybe in his worst fantasies, carve a new hole in your flesh. Dip his fingers inside, his tongue. Taste your insides on his tongue in the most awful of ways.

Sniffling, you nod. “Yeah, but–”

“But nothing,” Jack interrupts, pressing a finger to your lips. “I won’t hear another word of this nonsense. Do you understand me?”

“Okay,” you concede quietly. A quiet beat passes until a cramp takes you over, eliciting a quiet groan from your throat. You shift a little on the bed as you hold your abdomen, waiting for the pain to pass. It’s always the worst during the first day or two.

“Cramps?” Jack asks, to which you nod. “Yeah,” you reply, voice a little strained.

“Poor girl,” he whispers. He watches you wriggle slowly, as if to twist yourself out of pain. The way your body bends and curves has him inhaling sharply, fiery arousal pooling in his gut. There’s a bit of sweat dotting his hairline, and Jack dabs at it with his tie. “Say,” he begins, pausing to swallow thickly, “Why don’t you come here? Take it easy until we get you sorted out. Yeah?”

“Hm?”

“Right here,” Jack says, patting his thighs. He doesn’t give you time to answer before he’s scooping you up and pulling you onto his lap. He has you wrap your arms around his shoulders, hushing your murmurs of confusion. Then finally, you settle. Hands clutching his neck and his back, breathing in the scent of him - the faint fragrance of laundry detergent, his worn-down cologne. Sweat. His shampoo.

Jack holds you close, running his fingers up and down your legs, soothing you as you quietly whine in pain. Not so accidentally, he nudges your towel out of the way, catching a glimpse of your bloody cunt. Such a beautiful mess you make, Jack thinks to himself. The towel is soaked beneath you, and he can feel the blood soaking through to his bulge. He thinks of you steadily dripping on his cock, that thick, crimson fluid that he loves so.

That salty, metallic scent as you bleed - Christ, Jack’s hard over it. His arousal strains against the confines of his trousers, twitching and throbbing. Subtly, he ruts his hips against your ass, searching for a bit of pressure to soothe that ache. He grunts softly when he finds it, his hard cock rubbing against your body.

“Mister Delroy?”

Shit. You look down at Jack, brow furrowed in confusion. He smiles sheepishly, his cheeks glowing the most delicate shade of pink. “Ah, gosh. See, now this is embarrassing,” he laughs.

“What are you talking about?”

“Well, sweetheart, to be completely truthful…I uh, I suppose I find it arousing,” Jack admits. He’s bashful, yes, in the littlest way. It’s an act, and if you were a smarter girl, you’d see that. The crumbling facade. You’d recognize the warmth missing from his dark eyes, and not just fixate on the way they sparkle under the low lights. “Your menstruation, that is,” he clarifies.

“You - you do?”

Jack sees the way his words give you pause. Probably fills you with that icky feeling inside. He notices how your breathing changes, and he guesses that if he pressed two fingers against the side of your neck, he’d feel your pulse racing. “I do indeed,” he says, spreading his legs to press his hand against his sore bulge, all wet with your mess. His eyes shut and he groans, tilting his head back. “Would you - gosh - would you let me - oh, fuck.” Jack struggles through the sentence and doesn’t bother to finish it. No point in asking when he knows exactly what he needs, and has every intention of taking it.

He maneuvers you off his lap with a lack of gentleness you wouldn’t expect from him, and lays you in the center of his bed. Jack crawls over you and kneels, fingers fumbling with the now slick zipper of his pants. “I’m so sorry - I can’t help myself, sweetheart.” He looks almost menacing as he frees his cock, holding it between his thumb and first two fingers.

Jack harshly pulls the towel away from you, leaving you bare and bleeding on his bed. Your skin burns raw, stinging from the scrape of the rough fabric, and his carelessness shakes you. He places one hand next to your head, the other dipping between your thighs. He loves your gasp and the shock washing over your features as he collects your blood on his fingertips, then strokes his cock. “Ohh, god,” he moans, closing his eyes, biting down on a smile.

“Mister Delroy, you’re–” you say, voice breaking and cutting you off.

“Shhh, sweetheart. You’re fine,” he grunts, reaching for your cunt to once again gather your blood. You watch him stroke his cock, now painted red. The blood squeezing from between his fingers. He grips his length tightly as he moves his palm up and down, body shuddering with pleasure. He pauses then, holds his wide palm over your ribcage with a firm pressure, and uses his other hand to unbutton his white shirt, staining it as his fingers travel down. He shrugs it off his shoulders quickly, then roughly pulls your top off of your body, leaving you naked and on the bed. Vulnerable. Afraid.

Jack spreads your legs wide, hands behind your knees as pushes them toward your chest. You can feel yourself dripping, staining the mattress. Jack lowers himself and smirks, kissing your inner thighs, licking the dried blood off of your skin. He could make you bleed some more, if he wanted. A sharp bite and you’d be trickling that pretty dark red from more than just that little slit between your thighs.

He doesn’t speak before tasting you, licking your bleeding cunt from bottom to top with a flat tongue, tasting all of you. Your flesh, your blood. Your arousal. “Mister Delroy - hey,” you whine, squirming beneath him. You try to wriggle away, and for a moment you succeed, but Jack drags you right back. He shoots you a warning glare, eyes devoid of anything that’s not pure hunger, and it compels you to stay.

“Attagirl,” Jack praises, rubbing you with his thumbs. The juxtaposition of his sweet words and the violent way he eats you, the blood dripping from the corners of his mouth and down his chin. The tip of his long, perfect nose is also glistening wet and stained red.

He drags his tongue through your folds, swirling it over your clit a couple of times before traveling back down to push it inside you. He eats you voraciously, losing himself in your cunt. So warm, so wet, so fucking perfect. With every stroke, every flick of his tongue, his craving is closer and closer to being satisfied.

Jack’s littlest bit of stubble scratches your inner thighs, rubs you raw and makes your skin sting. “You bleed so pretty,” he mutters, humming. He fucking loves the heat of your pussy, your blood painting his face red. He pumps his tongue in and out, eating you for his own pleasure.

He’s wrapping his lips around your clit now, sucking on the sensitive bud as he pushes two fingers inside of you, curling them rhythmically. A loud moan escapes your lips and Jack reaches for your face, then covers your mouth. You make such pretty noises, but he wants to hear the slick, gushing sounds your cunt makes instead. His fingers are wet, painting your face in the same mess that paints his. You grimace at the taste of your own blood on his palm and try to pull away from it, but Jack squeezes his fingers, digging them into the hollows of your cheeks, feeling your molars under your skin. It hurts you. He hurts you.

You’re crying Jack’s name beneath his hand, begging him to stop. He fucking scares you. There’s a certain amount of pleasure that you derive from his violence makes you feel sick, and you just want him to be done with you. But he knows how you ache, don’t you see? He’ll make it all better.

“I know, god. I know,” Jack murmurs, ignoring your attempts to kick him away with an ironclad grip on your body. He keeps himself buried between your thighs, that most private place, circling your clit with the tip of his tongue as he works to bring you to the edge. Your orgasm takes you by surprise and confuses you, betrays you, even. Jack uses his thumb to circle your clit, lowering his mouth to your hole to feel you gush on his tongue as he guides you through your climax.

Jack pulls away from you and for a moment, you think that’s it - and then he’s hovering over your body, lining up with your entrance. “Please don’t do this,” you beg him. “Mister Delroy, please.”

“I know, sweetie. I’m so sorry,” he grunts, forcing himself into you in one quick, brutal thrust that sends you reeling. “I don’t know what’s come over me. Gosh, I’m sorry. I’ll make this quick, darling. Promise.”

You’re frozen as Jack pulls out of you almost all the way, then pushes right back in. He doesn’t look apologetic in the slightest as he fucks you, despite his words. Ravenous is more like it. Deranged, perhaps. He sets a quick pace and fucks you hard, bruising your cervix. The blood does little to lubricate with the way he so violently thrusts in and out of you.

The pain is utterly blinding. Your abdomen twists and clenches in pain from the menstrual cramps, and Jack’s assault on your sex does little to help that. His cock feels like it’s splitting you in half as he pounds into you, and there’s nothing you can do to fight it. No way to temper Jack, except maybe a desperate plea. “Stop it, please,” you whimper, begging him.

“Oh, but this is what you wanted,” Jack snarls, his face contorting into something awful, distorting his handsome features. “You wanted Mister Delroy to fuck you. Tell me, darling, is it what you pictured?”

“Ja–”

“Am I scaring you?”

The terrified look on your face is answer enough for Jack as he fucks you apart. Your eyes squeeze shut and Jack feels you clench as you cramp up again and oh, does he like that. He could keep you here, just like this. Use your pain for his pleasure. Let you squirm and cry and ache on his cock, giving you nothing in return.

But that’s not Jack, no. Never. Jack is a gentleman. Jack’s a gentleman as he uses his thumb to rubs your clit in those same practiced circles from before, studying you carefully. Your features do soften, and he can hear in your voice when your pain turns into pleasure. “That’s it, sweetheart,” he coos, drawing in and out of you as he massages your clit, “Come for me.”

You shake your head. “I don’t–”

“Be a good girl and come for Mister Delroy,” he says, and the sharp edge of his tone both terrifies you and makes you hotter. You dread your orgasm, but it washes over you anyway, rocks you to your core. Jack’s awful smile twitches a little as you come, your walls pulsing around his length. It coaxes along his own release, has his balls tightening and his cock so hard as he pulls you flush against him, spilling into you as he groans loudly.

Jack pulls out of you slowly, committing the beautiful mess you made on his cock to memory. He’s still not quite…there, yet. His eyes transfixed on your sex, admiring the way you seep a pretty pinkish color onto his bed, that beautiful combination of his come and your blood. He takes a private, sick satisfaction in seeing the way your body trembles with the aftershocks of it all. His sheer brutality.

Jack looks like he’s straight from a horrorshow - hair wild, eyes crazed. Blood dripping down his chin, down his neck and onto his chest, his soft abdomen. All that beautiful, pale skin, and the stark contrast of your blood painted over it. His graying pubic hair is stained red, too. His thighs. Fingers, and his fingernails are all caked and outlined in dark brown.

“Well, hey,” Jack laughs nervously, and in an instant, his familiar warmth is back. He’s back On, the darkness tucked neatly away elsewhere inside of him. “Let’s see about that peroxide, huh?”

if you enjoyed, lmk! please comment/reblog, send me a sweet little ask or somethin like that. mwah. thank you for reading ♡

tags for those of you who are into jack delroy!

@tworacoonsinabunnysuit @cum-a-calla @magpiepills @calmjoonie @sick-d0lll @thisisnotmycake @chainsawgvtsfvck @verylightsheep @jackdelroysbump @alltimelowsuckedmydick @roxiehorror @velvetclavicle @fridays13th @sofmoth @megangovier @miindjack @laligraves @artsymaddie @sapphires-and-silver-linings @rainstorms-library

#jack delroy x reader #jack delroy smut #jack delroy x reader smut #jack delroy #late night with the devil #david dastmalchian #david dastmalchian x reader #david dastmalchian smut

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catladyoftheyr · 1 year ago

Text

Muscle Memory

Pt 2

Miguel O’Hara x reader

Summary: you left town for your career, but you and Miguel always end up hooking up whenever you come back home.

Warnings/ Authors note: I was listening to Muscle Memory by Kelsea Ballerini and I had a vision and had to write it down.

Warnings and other things to be aware of : SMUT (FILTHY 18+ I’m so serious), alcohol, but neither character becomes inebriated, rough sex, unprotected p in v, light choking, filming of sex, oral sex for both parties, lots of dirty talk, creampie, facial, semi public sex/exhibitionism. You’re fucking against his car in a back alley parking lot.

Word count: 2.7k

Special tag for @lazyjellyfish300 I know you wanna read it bb 🕷️🪼

You haven't been home in months, but as you walked through the entryway of the local dive, you saw that your favorite spot on the end of the bar was still open. You slid onto the stool and ordered a margarita on the rocks. You sipped your drink quietly and pulled out your phone to check your email. You moved to a larger city after college for your career, but now it felt like work followed you everywhere you went, even off the clock. You were so absorbed in work that you didn’t notice that someone had taken the seat next to you at the bar: at least until you heard a familiar voice.

“Every time I see you you’re on that damn phone”

“Some of us have jobs, Miguel.”

“I have a job, thank you very much. It’s my bar you’re sitting in if I recall.” He smirked as he said the last sentence.

“Don’t you have work to do then? Besides terrorizing paying customers?” You couldn’t help but crack a smile. Miguel might be annoying, but he was still the closest friend you had back home. He’d never resented you for leaving town, even if he’d wanted you to stay.

“You know your drinks are on the house when you come here, cariño”. He made his accent heavy when he used the pet name. He knew you had a soft spot when he spoke Spanish. Miguel motioned to the bartender and ordered you another margarita

“It seems like bad business practice to give free drinks to any beautiful woman that walks through your door. O’haras is gonna close if you keep it up” you joked, sliding your phone back in your pocket.

“Aye, only for you. How long are you staying this time?” He replied. He slid your drink in front of you, toying with the straw. The glass looked comically small next to Miguel’s large hands. Your mind drifted to the nights where his hands had been tangled in your hair, palming your breasts, and inside your-

You came back to reality when you felt Miguel playing with your bra strap under your sleeve. The song had changed to something country, and Miguel was humming in your ear. “You know what they say, tequila makes her clothes fall off” he whispered as he slid your strap further down your shoulder.

You slid your strap back in place and moved Miguel’s hand back to the bar. “You’re gonna have to do better than if you want to get in my pants tonight, Mig.” You wanted him just as badly, but weren’t ready to give in just yet. You wanted to make him work for it. “I bet you can’t beat me at pool”

Miguel let out a loud laugh and threw back his head. “That’s not even a fair fight. I’d feel terrible seeing you lose.”

“Aww is Miggy scared to lose to a girl? Sounds like you’re a chicken” you replied, knowing exactly how to rile him up. You got a thrill out of agitating Miguel, the way his forehead creased, his mouth curling downward.

“I’m telling you right now that I’m gonna wipe the floor with you,” he shot back, clearly holding back a smile. “Don’t expect me to hold back just because you suck” he chuckled.

“I wouldn’t expect anything less than the best from Miguel O’Hara.” You walked over to the pool table, sensing Miguel’s eyes trained on your ass as he ordered another round of drinks. “Didn’t your mother ever tell you it’s not polite to stare?” You called after him.

“I’m just admiring the view, baby”

If he wanted a show, you’d be sure to give him one. You made sure to raise your arms as high as you could when you reached for the pool sticks. You made sure that your shirt rode up, exposing a strip of skin above the waistband of your shorts. You handed one of the sticks to Miguel with a smug grin on your face. He bit his lip as he watched you arrange the balls in the rack; he ogled you as you deliberately arched your back bending over the table. “You can break,” you said flirtatiously.

Miguel took on a look of intense focus. You could see the way he calculated the best angle to shoot from. His t-shirt came untucked from his jeans when he moved around the table. You took in the view of his tanned skin, and the way his immense frame loomed over everything. Miguel had sunk three balls in quick succession before missing his next shot. He swore under his breath and turned to face you. “Your turn, sweetheart.”

“Come on, Mig. At least give me a chance to play before you sink everything.”

“No way! I told you I wasn’t going to go easy on you.”

You knew you didn’t stand a chance at winning; but you weren’t giving up without a fight. There weren’t any rules about distracting your opponent. You gave your shorts a gentle tug to emphasize your figure before analyzing which ball to aim for. You picked your target and leaned forward, moving your hips from side to side knowing Miguel was watching you. You took your shot slowly and watched with disappointment as the cue ball sank into a hole. “Fuck”

“Woof, a scratch on your first turn? You’re making this too easy” Miguel taunted you with a smirk. He grabbed two bottles of beer off a table and tore off the caps with his teeth, spitting them into his open palm before shoving them in his pocket. It was his favorite party trick, and he knew it turned you on. He turned back to the pool table. “Watch and learn, nena. This is how a pro does it.” He sunk two more stripes and missed the third.

That made five balls to your whopping total of zero. Time to ramp up your distraction strategy. “If you’re so good, then why don’t you help with this next shot?” You tried to sound as innocent as possible.

Miguel obliged and stood behind you, his frame towering over you. He placed his arms on yours and the heat of his body sent shockwaves down your spine. You bent together in perfect sync as Miguel showed you where to aim, saying something about keeping an eye on the ball and how to line up your shot. You weren’t listening, instead pressing your hips against his. You moved slowly and deliberately, grinding against his crotch. The friction was driving you both crazy, but neither of you wanted to be the first to admit it. Miguel stifled a moan and pressed into you even harder. Neither of you cared about pool anymore. He nipped at your ear and you tried not to squeak. The pool sticks fell to the tabletop and Miguel leaned to whisper in you ear.

“Follow me.” Miguel grabbed your hand and you both stumbled out the back door of the bar into the parking lot. Immediately he had you pressed against the brick wall of the building. His lips crashed into yours, desperate and frenzied. You kissed back and grabbed his hair in an effort to pull him even closer. His tongue found its way into mouth while you moaned into the kiss. Miguel broke the kiss only to move his lips to your neck. “You’re such a fucking tease.” His eyes bored into yours. “Every time you come home you come into my bar, practically fucking begging to end up underneath me.”

“And you it up, Miggy.” You wrapped your arms around his neck and hoisted yourself up to cross your legs behind his back. “You want me so bad; you’d do anything for this pussy.” Miguel’s hands cupped your ass, sliding under the hem of your shorts. You moaned as he kneaded your flesh expertly. He carried you over to his car while you were still wrapped around him. Miguel let you down and leaned against the hood of his car, his cock clearly straining against the denim of his jeans.

“This is what you do to me, baby. You drive me so fucking crazy.” He groaned. You rubbed his cock through the fabric, relishing the noise he made as you teased him. You unbuckled his belt and tugged down his pants and boxers. Miguel’s cock sprang free and you could barely wrap your hand around his thick girth. You were no stranger to his body but could swear he seemed bigger than you remembered. Miguel moaned loudly as you slowly your hand up and down his shaft, taking care to rub your thumb over his sensitive tip.

Whenever you and Miguel hooked up it felt natural. You’d done this so many times you both knew exactly what the other liked. Every nook and cranny, every secret spot. You knew exactly which buttons to press to drive each other wild. You picked up the pace of your strokes before kneeling to take him in your mouth. “Please baby. I need more. Need you to suck my cock.” Miguel’s voice was desperate and pleading. You licked from base to tip, tasting the salt of the precum he was leaking like a faucet. You bobbed your head up and down, struggling with his size. Miguel bucked his hips in response and you made it halfway down the length of his cock.

You came up for air and spit in your palm and began stroking the base while you sucked. Miguel groaned and you felt him wrap a hand in your hair, pushing your mouth down further. “Come on baby, I know you can take me.” Your hands fell to your sides and Miguel’s hands guided you up and down his shaft. “You’re so fucking pretty with your lips wrapped around my cock.” His pace quickened and he began to fuck your face, thrusting down your throat. He pulled out of your mouth and started stroking himself. “Fuckkk I’m gonna cum. Open your mouth for me, baby.” You closed your eyes and stuck out your tongue, feeling ropes of semen hit your face and tongue. You licked your lips, tasting the salt and sweat. You opened your eyes to see Miguel had his phone out. “Smile for me, hermosa. You look so pretty with my cum on your face I want to remember this” he cooed while snapping pictures.

Miguel helped you up off your knees and swiped his fingers softly across your face before popping them into his mouth to clean them. He kissed you again before pressing you face down against the hood of his car. You felt his large hand palming against your pussy through your shorts. “Mmmplease, Mig. Don’t tease me like this.” He kept rubbing, pressing the fabric into your folds.

“You’ve been teasing me all night, baby. Paybacks a bitch.” Miguel crouched down and kissed your pussy through your denim shorts; You felt him massage your ass while he pressed his mouth against you. He pressed down firmly as you squirmed under his touch, desperately trying to increase the friction. “Stop fucking wiggling.” He yanked your shorts down so the only thing between him and your cunt was the thin fabric of your thong. He rubbed your clit through your panties and you gasped.

“Please, baby. I need more” you moaned breathlessly. He picked up the pace, making quick circles around your bud with his large fingers. You felt the pleasure building steadily as Miguel worked his magic. “Ah! I’m almost there. Keep going, Miggy!” Just as the words left your mouth he stopped, leaving you hanging on the edge of your orgasm. “What the fuck was that for?!” You turned to face him and saw a shit eating grin on his face. “It’s not fucking funny, Mig” you groaned.

“I told you, payback is a bitch. You don’t get to cum until I say you can, baby.” You sighed and Miguel pressed you against the car hood again with one hand, using the other to push your panties to the side. He slid one thick finger into you and moved it slowly in and out. “You’re so fucking wet for me baby. And so tight. I’m gonna stretch this pussy out” he cooed, adding a second finger. “That’s it, baby.” He knelt down again and you felt him trade his fingers for his tongue. He darted in and out of your entrance, and you flooded with wetness. “You taste so fucking good”. Miguel continued licking, kissing, and sucking every fold of your slit. The pleasure building up was starting to become unbearable; you had no idea how you were going to be able to hold back. Then Miguel said the magic words: “Cum for me, cariño” he purred, sucking on your clit as if his life depended on it.

You let yourself fall over the edge and you gasped as your orgasm overtook you. Waves of pleasure racked your body and you found yourself speechless. You were coming down from the rush when you felt the tip of Miguel’s cock poking at your entrance. “It’s too big” you moaned, already feeling the stretch from just the tip.

“Shhh, it’s okay. You’ve done this before. You’re so good at taking me, baby.” Miguel replied, pressing in another inch of his girth. He grunted as he felt you stretching around him. “Your pussy is so good. You make me feel so good.” Miguel wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you up to his chest, pushing his cock in further. He grabbed your hair and turned your face toward him to kiss you again. The kiss deepened and became frenzied as you felt him going deeper and deeper until he finally bottomed out inside of you. You felt so full you couldn’t believe he fit inside of you.

“Your cock is so fucking big, Miggy. I need you to fuck me.” You moaned, not caring if anyone else was around. Miguel took your words to heart and immediately started pumping in and out, your wetness running down your thighs. He kept a steady pace, hitting the sweet spot inside of you with every thrust. “Fuck me harder” you cried, cockdrunk.

Miguel pulled out and flipped you over, dragging you both to the side of his car. He pulled out his phone again and pressed record before reentering you. “Put on a show for me baby, show the camera how good I make you feel.” You moaned louder, happy to show off for him. Miguel pushed up your shirt to expose your tits and palmed them roughly with one hand. He groped and squeezed, pinching and rolling your nipples between his digits.

“Fuck, Miggy. You feel so good. Keep going”

“You’re taking this cock so well, baby. The camera loves you. You’re such a little slut for me I love it.” He pumped harder, hitting your cervix with his tip. His spare hand moved from your chest to your throat and he squeezed lightly. You let out a moan and felt pleasure start to build in your core again. You used one hand to start rubbing circles on your clit while Miguel was thrusting. “That’s it, baby. Rub it out for me. You’re taking my cock so well.”

“M-mig I’m close. I’m gonna cum” you squeaked out, the circles on your clit becoming more frantic.

“Go on, nena. Cum on my cock. Show me how pretty you look when you’re cumming for me.” Miguel’s encouragement pushed you over the edge and your second orgasm ripped through your body. You felt yourself clench tighter around his cock and he thrusted harder, taking his hand off your throat and using it to steady you against the side of the car. “I’m gonna cum, baby. I’m gonna put a baby in you, then you can’t leave me again.” Miguel gave one final thrust before you felt him release, spilling his seed inside of you. He grunted before pulling out slowly.

“That was so good, mig. I remember why I come back to this place when I’m in town now” you joked, pulling your clothes back into place. Miguel finished redressing himself and planted a soft kiss on your forehead.

“Yeah? Well maybe you should come home more often then.”

#miguel spiderverse #spiderverse fanfic #miguel o'hara #miguel x reader #atsv miguel #atsv fanart #atsv fanfiction #miguel o’hara smut

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knottedhearts · 3 months ago

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The space between us: B.E

a/n: This is part two, if you haven't read part one go read it!!.

The bedroom door stays closed for hours. You sit on the couch, the glow of the TV long since faded, leaving the room dim and heavy with silence. Billie’s words keep echoing in your head—“You’ll never get it.”

You want to give her space, but the ache in your chest grows unbearable. Finally, you stand and walk to the bedroom door, hesitating before knocking softly.

“Billie?”

No response.

You lean against the doorframe. “Look… I know you’re upset, but I can’t just sit out here acting like everything’s fine when it’s not. Can we talk? Please?”

Still nothing.

Sighing, you push the door open. Billie’s sitting on the edge of the bed, her knees pulled up to her chest, arms wrapped tightly around them. Her dark brown hair falls in messy strands, and her blue eyes are puffy and red from crying.

Your heart twists. “Billie…”

She doesn’t look at you. “What do you want, Y/n?”

“I want to fix this,” you say softly, stepping closer. “I hate fighting with you.”

She shakes her head, her voice trembling. “It’s not just about the fight. It’s about how I feel—like I’m not enough for you. Like no matter what I do, someone else will always have more of your time.”

You sink onto the bed beside her, careful not to touch her yet. “You are enough, Billie. More than enough. I hate that I made you feel like you’re not.”

She finally looks at you, her eyes filled with hurt. “Then why does it feel like you’re always pulling away? Like you’d rather be anywhere but here?”

Your throat tightens. “I’m not pulling away—I promise I’m not. I just… I guess I didn’t realize how much it was hurting you. Luke is my friend, yeah, but you’re my everything. And I’ve done a terrible job making sure you know that.”

Her lip quivers, and a tear slips down her cheek. “I just need to feel like I’m your priority,” she whispers. “Not second place. Not someone you come home to when you’re done having fun somewhere else.”

You reach out, gently brushing the tear away with your thumb. “You are my priority. I swear. I’ll prove it to you—whatever it takes. I never meant to make you feel like you were second.”

She closes her eyes, leaning into your touch as more tears fall. “I hate feeling this way. I hate being this insecure.”

“It’s not insecurity, Billie. It’s love. You care so much that it hurts, and I get that now. I should’ve gotten it sooner.”

For the first time since the argument started, her walls seem to crack. She lets out a shaky breath and finally leans into you, burying her face in your neck.

“I’m sorry too,” she murmurs. “For yelling. For overreacting. I just… I need you.”

You hold her tighter, your arms wrapping around her like she might slip away if you let go. “I need you too. And I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”

The two of you sit there in the dim light, the silence no longer heavy but comforting. The storm has passed, leaving behind something fragile but whole—something worth holding onto.

@d14n4ol < tag that asked for part 2.

#billie eilish #billieeilish #hit me hard and soft #wlw #wlw post #pov #argument #relationship #billie eilish x you #billie eilish fluff #billie ellish lyrics #billie eilish x reader

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milf-murdock · 1 year ago

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I See Red (Part 1)

Simon "Ghost" Riley x 141!Reader

Part 2 can be found here

Summary: A tech expert lends her expertise to the 141 for a mission. It’s not her fault that she’s tall, beautiful, and perfect. But it is her fault that she can’t keep her goddamn hands to herself. How else are you supposed to react when you walk in to find her lips on your Ghost? Warnings: allusions to cheating (not Ghost’s fault!! Sweet man has never done anything wrong in his life), swearing, angst (does it make it better if I promise all the fluff in the next chapter?) A/N: Well this has been on my brain for a while. I’m so thrilled to finally have this out into the world! The OGs know that this was one of my first prompts I came up with when I was first writing for Simon Riley. I guess we’ve come full circle <3 Thank you for all your support. Remember, your comments, tags, and messages mean the world to us writers!

It’s surprising that the harsh grinding of your teeth isn’t audible given how hard you’re clenching your jaw. You watch in irritated silence as a tall curvy redhead named Bex leans over Ghost’s shoulder to peer down at the encrypted computer.

She’s always so fucking close to him, to your Ghost.

You steady your growing impatience by taking a swig of water, the thin plastic crinkling under your touch.

“Hmm.” She leans in closer and you could tell Ghost is on edge. He wasn’t exactly the sort who tolerated too many people encroaching on his personal space.

Clearly he makes an exception when it comes to gorgeous redheads though, you think to yourself before mentally chastising the thought.

The rational side of your brain knows that he’s more than likely just putting on a brave face because Bex is new to the team. Technically, you correct yourself, not an actual part of the team. She’s more like a short term contractor. Even you had to begrudgingly admit that the 141 needed her level of expertise to crack through the firewalls and get the intel needed to ensure success for the next part of your mission. After all, you risked your life getting the damn laptop. What good is it if you can’t even get into it?

You knew all of this. Logically. It made sense. Your team needed a military-grade computer expert. She was the most qualified for the job—the “best of the best” Price had said. Done. Fin.

Except…

Except you just couldn’t get over the way her eyes always seemed to linger on Ghost. The way she’d accidentally brush up against him as they walked side by side through the hallway. The way she laughed a little too loud at his terrible Army jokes. And right now, the way her hand rests on his shoulder as she studies the screen.

Your fist unconsciously clenches around your water bottle causing the ice cold water to gush over the loosened cap, spilling all over your lap.

You let out a shout, jumping to your feet as the cold water soaks through your layers. Bex jumps as well, surprised by the outburst, stepping back from the mess.

Simon is on his feet in a heartbeat.

“You okay?” But not even his deep baritone, usually instantly calming, could soothe your irritation, now at an all time high.

“I’m fine,” you snap, crossing the briefing room in strides to toss the empty bottle in the bin. Ghost watches you with careful eyes. Though his face is covered by his signature skull balaclava, you didn’t miss his appraising gaze as he tries to assess the situation—ever the tactician.

You take a deep breath. “I’m fine,” you try again, aiming for a more pleasant tone. “Really. Just a slip of the hand.”

“Well,” Bex scoffs, “You really should be more careful. We are dealing with electronics here, you know.” Her snarky tone has you nearly seeing red again, but you clench your jaw tight and plaster the friendliest smile you could muster, though you’re certain it must look more like a grimace.

“Noted,” you grit out before turning your attention back to Ghost. “I’m gonna head to the barracks and grab a shower. Catch you later?”

Ghost’s head bobs in a subtle nod, but his eyes are still looking at you with that quizzical expression on his face. He knows something is wrong.

You just subtly shake your head in response, doing your best to a convey a “not now. We’ll talk later” with just a glance. Turning back to the door, you leave the two of them behind to tackle the task at hand. The sooner you crack the encryption and figured out where your target is, the sooner Bex can get the fuck out of here.

Walking across the base, you pinched the bridge of your nose between your fingers, internally scolding yourself for letting your temper get the best of you. The fresh, cool evening air helps calm your sour mood, and you do your best to reassure yourself.

I’m sure it’s nothing.

It’s all in your head.

He probably doesn’t even like redheads.

You’re so caught up in your thoughts you don’t even see where you were going, which is exactly how you find yourself running face first into the brick wall of Johnny.

Oomph. The air whooshes out of your lungs as two broad hands reach up to steady you.

“Easy there, lass,” the Scottsman chuckles. “Watch where yer goin’ bonnie.”

“Sorry Soap,” your cheeks feel warm with embarrassment. “Didn’t see you there. Lost in my own head.”

“I’ll say!” Johnny claps a hand on your shoulder, the other balancing a stack of folders. “Hey, while I have you here, have ye seen LT?”

“Yeah, he’s with Bex in the briefing room. They’re trying to tackle that computer we lifted from the last mission.”

Soap nods. “More power to her. That shite doesn’t make any fucking sense to me.”

“Yeah. She’s a real blessing to the team,” you grumble, unable to withhold your eye roll.

“There’s that fiery sergeant I love so much,” Soap teases. “Am I getting a whiff a jealousy, hen?”

“Don’t even get me started Soap or I swear to god—“

“Alright, alright,” Soap laughs good naturally, his free hand coming up in mock surrender. “But hey, would you mind dropping off these files to LT? He needs to review them before our meeting with Laswell in a couple hours and I’ve got to meet up with Price now, don’t have time to trek all the way to the briefing room.”

“Sure,” you do manage to hold back your sigh this time. “Happy to help.” And you are happy to help Soap—he’s a great friend to both you and Simon—you just aren’t too happy at the thought of seeing your new BFF Bex again so soon. At least the short walk had served its purpose in cooling your temper a bit.

“You’re a treat, bonnie, I owe you one,” Soap smiles, giving your shoulder a firm pat before taking off in the opposite direction towards price’s office.

You adjust the stack of sealed papers in your hands as your turned back around towards the briefing room and head across base.

You quick steps have you approaching the briefing room soon enough. Surprisingly, the door is left slightly ajar—you must not have shut it all the way when you stormed out of the room earlier, you reason.

You approach silently, softening your footsteps to avoid any kind of noise, a small voice in the back of your mind goading you to surreptitiously see how Bex might behave without an audience. You peer in the room to find Bex and Simon standing at the table, the computer screen lighting up in front of them.

“We’re in!” Bex exclaims, her voice high pitched with excitement.

You watch the scene unfold before you and it feels like the world is moving in slow motion. Bex turns her radiant expression up to face Simon, her hands moving upwards and tucking up under his balaclava, and then—in the blink of an eye—she raises it above his chin and presses a kiss to his lips. Simon’s hands reach up to grasp her wrists, already beginning to pull away, but it’s too late.

You see everything.

The papers fall to the floor with a crash, and both Simon and Bex jump apart, eyes flashing to the door.

Bex at least has the good sense to look embarrassed by her actions, her face flushing bright red, eyes cast to the ground.

“It’s not what it looks like,” Simon urges, pulling his mask back down in place. “Wait—“

You turn and walked out the door, the scene playing on a loop in your head.

Her lips. Pressed up against Simon. Your Simon. His lips…kissing her back? The memory already warps, tinged with shades of red matching the shades of anger running through you.

The rage fuels your steps as you run from the briefing room, desperate to get away.

Simon blinks at the empty space in the doorway, the space where you stood just a second ago, before this colossal shit storm descended.

“Well, sorry we got interrupted,” Bex’s sultry voice breaks the silence, her small hand reaching towards Ghost’s glove. “Should we continue where we left off?”

“Touch me again, and you lose the whole goddamn hand,” Simon’s hardened voice is laced with the threat of violence. “Keep your bloody hands to yourself.”

The blood drains from Bex’s face.

With that, he storms out the door, following your trail. One thought playing on repeat in his mind: I can’t lose her.

Masterlist ✧ Ask Box

Read Part 2 here ❤️

#simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost x reader #ghost x you #simon riley imagine #simon Riley x 141!Reader #ghost x 141!Reader #141!Reader

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evenyvn · 24 days ago

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GUILTY

devil!reader x (fallen)angel!seonghwa

summary : through whispered temptations, you lured seonghwa into your sinful arms, making him fall not by force, but by choice. when his halo cracked and his wings dimmed, you should have felt victorious. but guilt cut deeper than sin.

cw : gn!reader, yandere!reader, reader is very manipulative, kissing, seonghwa is a victim but he likes it tbh, classic fallen angel troupe, the whole thing is just a word vomit tbh, lmk if there's something that i missed bcs I'm shyt at writing tags.

someone pls tell seonghwa to stop being so majestic so i can write for the others as well smh. inspired by guilty by taemin and so beautiful by drp ian.

There had never been a more perfect angel than Park Seonghwa.

The heavens sang his name, the stars bent toward his light, and even the gods marveled at his grace. His fluttering hair white and pure as his wings stretched across the sky like beams of the sun, his voice carried the weight of divinity itself, and his touch was said to heal the wounded. He was untouchable, untainted, sacred.

And YOU wanted him.

You wanted him the way mortals craved salvation, the way sinners begged for forgiveness. But you were no fool begging at the feet of a saint. No, you were a devil, a ruler of the underworld, a master of manipulation. You did not kneel for angels; you made angels kneel for you.

And so, you set your plan into motion.

At first, you only watched from afar. You sat at the edges of the heavens, between hell and heaven, hidden in the places where light did not reach, studying Seonghwa with a fascination that bordered on obsession.

He was everything the scriptures promised—kind beyond reason, beautiful beyond compare, good in a way that made you ache with something you could not name.

But goodness could be twisted. Purity could be tainted. Even the holiest of creatures could fall.

And Seonghwa… Seonghwa soon will too.

It started with whispered words, planted like seeds in his mind.

"Do you ever wonder if there’s more than heaven?" you said under the shadow on the edge of the heaven were you finally catch seonghwa wandering alone.

"Is it not lonely, being so perfect? Do they love you, or do they love what you represent?" you make your voice soft and as innocent as a child with their curiosity.

"Do you ever tire of belonging to them?"

Seonghwa resisted at first. Of course, he did. He was an angel, a being of unwavering faith. But you were patient. You fed him doubts laced with honey, dripped temptation into his ear like a gentle lullaby. And slowly, so slowly, Seonghwa began to listen.

The first time he sought you out, it was with guilt weighing heavy in his eyes.

"I should not be here," he had said, voice barely above a whisper.

And yet, he stayed. He stayed, and even come again and again.

You did not touch him, not yet. You did not rush. You let Seonghwa come by himself, let him wade deeper into your world, let him take one step closer every time you met.

You never forced him.

Seonghwa choose to fall.

The first time Seonghwa touched you, it was a hesitant brush of his fingertips against your cheek, as if seeking proof that you were real. The heavens did not tremble that day, but you swore you felt the shift in the universe.

And then, one night, where the heavens and hell unaware, Seonghwa kissed you.

It was soft, hesitant, the touch of someone who had never known sin. But the moment both of your lips met, Seonghwa broke.

You could see it in the way his breath hitched, in the way his hands fisted into your dark clothes like a drowning man clinging to salvation. But you knew better. Seonghwa was not drowning—he was burning.

And he liked it.

That was the night Seonghwa fell.

The moment your lips parted, the heavens screamed. The white glow of his wings flickered, his halo cracked, and a terrible silence followed. The kind that only came before ruin.

Seonghwa staggered back, horror dawning in his eyes as he clutched his chest, as if trying to hold onto whatever grace he had left.

"What have I done?" he whispered.

But you only smiled, cupping his face with a gentleness that no devil should possess.

"You are mine now."

Seonghwa did not return to heaven. He could not.

His wings, once white and pure, were now dusted with the faintest trace of shadow. His halo, once blinding, had dulled to the dim glow of a dying star. He was still beautiful—of course, he was—but he was no longer perfect.

And yet, to you, he was even more divine than before.

You worshipped him as if he were a god. You built him a throne of midnight and fire, adorned him in silks that shimmered like the cosmos, kissed his knuckles like he was the ruler of their world. You whispered prayers of devotion against his skin,

"my love, my angel, my everything."

Seonghwa was yours.

But then why… did victory taste so bitter?

Late at night, when Seonghwa thought you were asleep, he would pray. His hands clasped together, his head bowed, pleading to a god who no longer answered him.

"Forgive me."

"I was weak."

"I loved where I should not have loved."

You never let him see the way those words destroyed you.

Because for all your clever tricks, for all your manipulation, for all your power, there was one thing you had never accounted for—guilt.

Not just Seonghwa’s. Yours.

Because Seonghwa had fallen. And you had pushed him.

And now, you both trapped.

A sinner and a saint, bound by love.

Bound by ruin.

divider by @.aquazero | likes, reblogs, and comments are very appreciated ♡

#honestly every dpr ian music fits this fanfic esp the mito album #this is really word vomit sorry #✦;; seonghwa #park seonghwa x reader #seonghwa x reader #ateez x reader #ateez #ateez fanfic #yandere!reader #yandere reader

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frickingnerd · 9 months ago

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i hate loving you as much as i do

pairing: luka couffaine x gn!reader

summary: left heartbroken by a missunderstanding, you end up getting akumatized. but luka seeks you out and clears up any missunderstandings by confessing his love to you!

tags: angst to fluff, missunderstandings, happy ending, mentions of marinette/lukanette, luka × reader endgame, wholesome fluff

everything would've been different, if luka had been by your side, like he promised. you never would've gotten akumatized if he had been there. luka would've been able to get through to you with his words and save you. but you were all by yourself when that akuma took over your body. and nobody could prevent what was about to happen…

luka couldn't believe his own eyes when he saw you on the ladyblog, as an akumatized villain. he was late to meet you, when he got an akuma alert and checked the news. and that's when he saw you.

without even thinking about it, luka rushed to the spot you were last seen, knowing he needed to talk to you. as much as he trusted chat noir and ladybug, he knew you better than they did. they'd only hurt you by trying to restrain you. but luka was convinced that if he was there, things would be different! but he was wrong…

“you are the worst thing that happened to me, luka. why would you think your words would do anything to convince me to stop this? i despise you! acting like you care about me, just to forget all about me when she wants to see you–!”

your words were cruel and your voice was different than what luka knew. it was much deeper, almost twisted. the akuma had done more than just change your appearance.

but while your words sounded too mean to truly belong to you, something caught luka's attention. that girl you mentioned, that made him forget about you…

“do you mean marinette…?”

“ha, so you do know what i'm talking about! did you grow tired of playing dumb? of course i mean her! you're always with her! and you can't even see how much you hurt me when you're with her…”

luka's heart sunk. he never knew you were this hurt by him spending time with marinette. but there was no reason to be jealous of marinette!

“marinette is just a friend! you're the one i love!”

for a short moment, your facade seemed to crack. that mean glare on your face vanished and you looked genuinely surprised. but quickly, you grew bitter again and a sad expression covered your face, that made luka's heart ache.

“stop giving me hope. it hurts so much more than if you'd just tell me the truth…”

“it's the truth!” luka sighed. “i've been spending a lot of time with marinette recently, but she was just helping me with a song i wrote for you! i wanted it to be perfect before you heard it and i knew she'd keep it a secret…”

“l-liar… y-you… you have to be… lying–!”

you shook your head, tears streaming down your cheeks. you couldn't even look at luka, as you heard hawkmoth's voice in your head, trying to convince you all he said was a lie. that luka merely was afraid of you and wanted to weaken you with his words. but was that really true?

“please, look at me…”

you hadn't even noticed that luka had closed the distance between the two of you, gently placing a hand on your cheeks. as your eyes inevitably darted towards him, luka surprised you with a sudden kiss. and as you gave into the kiss, hawkmoth's control over you weakened…

“if my words couldn't convince you, was this kiss able to do it?”

luka looked at you with such fondness. you had said terrible things to him, had accepted hawkmoth's villainous powers and yet he looked at you with such fondness. as if there was nothing you could say or do that would make him hate you.

“i thought you didn't care about me…”

as those words left your lips, you finally regained control over yourself again. hawkmoth lost all power over you and you detransformed back into yourself, as luka quickly wrapped his arms around you. almost as if he was worried you'd slip away again if he didn't hold you close.

“i'm sorry i couldn't show you just how important you are to me. i should've never kept secrets from you, not even to surprise you. i've hurt you so much… can you forgive me?”

you only began to tear up more at luka's words.

“of course i can forgive you! but i'm the one who should be asking for forgiveness instead…”

“don't.” luka brushed it off with a smile. “there's nothing you need to apologize for. what you said earlier, those weren't your words. i know that you were just trying to push me away, because you were hurt…”

“still!” you insisted. “i'm sorry for what i said. i could never hate you. in fact, i… i love you!”

luka's thumb gently stroked your cheek, as he smiled at you. he slowly closed the distance between you, whispering out four little words, before his lips finally met yours again:

“i love you too…”

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yerimbrit · 11 months ago

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something new : n. kazuha

synopsis: the five times your confession to kazuha was interrupted, and the one time it wasn't

# : pairing ! nonidol!nakamura kazuha x gn!reader

# : tags ! friends to lovers, ao3 5+1 trope, but there's some interludes, zuha's JUSTTT a little dense, the fimmies are your wingwomen, so is giselle and ningning from aespa, hs!au, crack, mentions of karina and winter too, in the end they are just two lovesick fools

# : wordcount ! 8.4k

# : warnings ! the usual swearing idt i'll be putting warnings for them anym

"just tell her you like her," chaewon said, taking a bite of her salad, "i don't understand why you haven't."

you groaned in response. obviously chaewon didn't understand that what she was suggesting was exactly what you'd been trying to do since the beginning of time. emphasis on trying.

it wasn't your fault that kazuha was absolutely, terribly, agonizingly oblivious to your confessions to her—or at least your attempts to confess to her.

a sympathetic hand patted you on the shoulder, and you looked up to see sakura, who placed her tray on the cafeteria table. "attempts have been made, chae. that's exactly why they're complaining for the, i don't know, 100th time."

chaewon kicked sakura's foot under the table.

"whatcha guys talking about?" asked eunchae, who had just taken her seat next to you at the table. you only buried your face into your arms.

"y/n's just mad that kazuha can't take a hint," snickered chaewon.

sakura nodded, tapping your cheek so she could feed you a spoonful of rice. "kazuha's really dense."

"sometimes i can't tell if she's joking or not whenever i try."

you thought back to the last few times you confessed, shuddering. the most recent one was equally as bad as the previous ones. it was like everything never went your way at the worst times.

("kazuha, i like you," you said, holding both of the girl's hands in yours, looking into her eyes with your tired, but determined eyes.

her eyes widened, and you thought maybe, just maybe, she finally understood what you were saying. at this point, you didn't even care if she rejected you. despite the heartache it would bring you, at least she would know about your feelings.

"i like you too!" she said excitedly, and you perked up in disbelief. wow, today really was your lucky da—

she brought you into a tight hug. and the worst possible words she could've said, were said: "you're my best friend! i like you a lot!")

the bell rang after that, so you couldn't explain to her that you liked her as more than that, because the two of you were at the entrance of the gym, and kazuha's next class was on the third floor of the main building.

eunchae hummed thoughtfully, finger on her lip. then, she gasped, enlightened.

"i have an idea."

she ushered the three of you closer, all of you leaning forward to huddle in the middle of the table. you would've laughed how ridiculous you looked, but what eunchae whispered to the group was even more ridiculous.

"that's not going to work," you refused, adamantly shaking your head.

chaewon, sakura, and eunchae shared a knowing look.

"it doesn't hurt to try, y/nnie," laughed chaewon.

eunchae chimed in, "exactly! what if it does work?"

you furrowed your eyebrows, not liking what the girls were up to. "but—"

"let's try it, y/n." sakura smiled, looking at you with deadpan eyes. you knew those eyes. and those eyes meant that you weren't getting out of this situation. deflating, you lowered your head.

"okay."

1. eunchae's idea: fall into her arms and confess (like in a romcom!) (romcoms are romcoms for a reason, eunchae.) (shut up!)

"please work, please work, please work," you chanted to yourself, tightly shutting your eyes and waiting for "the signal" from eunchae and chaewon. what the signal was, you didn't know. but you trusted your friends... maybe.

the sound of yunjin's boisterous laughter, and kazuha's quieter giggles echoed through the school hallway filled with hundreds of lockers, and you peeked from behind the corner to get a glimpse of the two. your eyes fearfully darted around in search of eunchae, because this was her idea, only to be pushed from behind by someone into the hallway that your incoming target was walking through.

"y/n! look out!" shouted eunchae, and you grimaced. 'that was their cue?'

then, you yelped, tripping over your own feet, because silly old you forgot to tie your own shoelaces. scrunching up your face, you prepared yourself for the inevitable faceplant you were about to do, and the next failure in your endeavor to tell kazuha your feelings.

"woah! are you okay, y/n?" a worried voice called. wait. that wasn't the cold hard floor you thought you were going to embrace.

'kazuha?' you thought, until you opened your eyes and saw a few long strands of dyed orange hair, following them up to the frowning face of huh yunjin, kazuha's best friend. but not kazuha.

squirming out of yunjin's secure grip, you widened your eyes, panicking. your gaze switched between the two volleyball players frantically. they both stared at you with a concerned look.

"i'm sorry!" you exclaimed, bowing so low you could see sakura's shocked face just behind you in the hall, then turning around and dashing to drag sakura with you anywhere but where you just embarrassed yourself.

kazuha called after you, hands cupped around her mouth, but you were already long gone.

"what was that about?" yunjin asked, looking to the japanese girl next to her for an answer. kazuha shrugged and sighed.

"wish i knew."

"what the hell, eunchae, you said it would work!" you complained into your pillow. said girl was using your back to hold up her phone, which was playing an episode of single's inferno. chaewon sat next to her, more invested in the show than whatever you had going on.

the youngest pouted, jabbing her finger into your shoulder, earning her a grunt and a slap on the knee from you.

"well it would've worked if yunjin-unnie wasn't there," she whined in defense. she was right, but you didn't want to admit that, for the sake of your pride.

chaewon giggled. "it was pretty funny, though. at least you didn't hurt yourself."

your head, which was previously buried in your pillow, whipped around to shoot a menacing glare at the two chaes, lifting your hand to point an accusing finger at both of them.

"speaking of which, where were you guys?! i swear you ran off as soon as you yelled at me to watch out," you said, dropping your arm back onto your bed. eunchae and chaewon glanced at each other, then turned back to you, obnoxiously shrugging their shoulders in sync.

before you could get up and tackle your friends in a much-deserved tickle session, the door to your room creaked open, revealing sakura, and behind her, yunjin.

"why is it always you three? behave," sakura scolded, disappointment evident in her tone.

"sorry, sakura-unnie." "sorry, kkura-unnie..."

chaewon lightly slapped your back.

"ow!" you groaned, rubbing the affected area. she gave you a look, and you hesitantly turned around to look at the eldest girl.

"sorry, kkura-unnie."

sakura sighed, shaking her head. she set her book bag down by the foot of your desk, taking a seat on your swivel chair. yunjin sat on your fluffy rug, leaning her back against the bedframe.

you and yunjin were friends. she'd been over before, with kazuha, and would often join you and your friend group's movie nights. her open-minded personality allowed your conversations to jump topics, making every exchange interesting. although you weren't as close to her as kazuha was, you knew you could always come to her for advice, next to sakura.

yunjin and kazuha were both on the volleyball team. that's how the two of them met: during varsity tryouts, both of them called to receive the spike hit by yujin, a fellow freshman. in that short moment in between, neither of them moved to bump the ball, so it ended up bouncing on the court, resulting in a point scored by yujin. kazuha treated yunjin to an ice cream after practice as an apology, and the two of them hit it off.

aside from the volleyball-campfire-tryout fiasco with kazuha, yunjin was also close with chaewon, sharing multiple classes with her. the two usually gossiped over the recent transfer students, something mr. park did again, or how yet another girl fell victim to star basketball player lee heeseung and his playboy charms.

with eunchae, yunjin treated her as if she were her little sister. from babying her (to which eunchae grumbled about, saying that she was "grown now", but you all knew she secretly adored the older girl) to taking her out on spontaneous hangouts to give her a refreshing experience of the outside world. her and sakura bonded over it, taking care of the youngest together.

you cleared your throat, sitting up and pulling your knees close to your chest. "so, why is yunjin here?"

as you sat up, eunchae's phone fell off your back, and the two watchers both frowned. single's inferno could wait.

"because we forgot to tell her about the plan," sakura said in a matter-of-fact tone.

you cursed in your head. maybe if she was let in on the plan, you would've succeeded, and you wouldn't have to try to confess again.

"speaking of plans," chaewon raised her hand, imitating a student about to ask a question. you snorted, and pointed at her, allowing her to speak again.

she nodded at you, a grin spreading on her face. "it's raining in two days, on friday. zuha usually walks with you after school every other day, right y/n?"

you nodded slowly, making a 'hurry-up' gesture with your hand. she rolled her eyes.

"since she's walking with you, why don't you go ahead and share an umbrella? that could be the perfect opportunity for you to tell her."

("hold on, she's cooking."

"stop learning from yunjin, please eunchae."

"what do i have to do with this!?")

"you know what. that doesn't sound that bad, coming from you," you said, not caring that you just casually threw some shade at chaewon.

"hey, what's that supposed to mean!"

2. chaewon's idea: share an umbrella under the showers of afternoon spring rain

"it's raining," kazuha pouted, holding her hand out to feel the rain landing on her fingers.

you gulped. this was it.

"y-yeah, it is," you nervously giggled, wiping your sweaty palms on your pants.

the girl beside you hummed, and glanced at you. "should we wait for it to stop?"

hearing her words, you fumbled around for the umbrella in your schoolbag. "it's, it's okay. i have an umbrella," you held the object up to her once you finally found it, "see?"

"oh," she simply nodded, stretching her hand out for you to give to her.

the two of you started walking into the onslaught of rain. kazuha's shoulder started getting wet, and you hurriedly grabbed her arm and pulled her closer to you.

"you'll get sick, dummy," you nagged, a pout on your face. she pinched your cheek and smiled, not making a move to pull away from your hold. butterflies swarmed your stomach.

"it's okay! as long as you stay dry."

damn this girl. why did you have to fall for someone who's so dense? after all these years of trying (and failing) to get your crush to acknowledge your romantic feelings toward her, she still didn't get it?

under your umbrella, the two of you were closer than ever. today was the first day of spring, though instead of warm sunshine, there was the pouring rain. winter felt like it had yet to say goodbye.

the cold air blew at your legs as kazuha maneuvered you around deep puddles on the paved sidewalk, careful not to have you step in one knowing you hated having wet socks.

when you realized what she was doing you flushed, heart accelerating at unnatural speeds, and you suddenly forgot how to breathe when you thought about confessing. the sensation came every time you confessed, but for some reason, this time it was ten times worse.

'okay, focus.' you tried to calm your breathing, taking deep breaths and squeezing kazuha's arm tighter.

the girl turned to you with a questioning look. "something wrong?"

you quickly shook your head and directed your gaze to the ground. you didn't know why you were struggling so much today. maybe it was the pouring rain, or maybe it was the fact you were so close together. maybe it was how she always earnestly took your interests to heart, or maybe...

suddenly, a rushing car zoomed past both of you, speeding over a large puddle. before you could even blink, kazuha switched her umbrella to the other hand, and pulled you into the safer side of the sidewalk, bracing herself for the impact of the puddle water soaking her jacket and uniform.

your heart stopped when she moved you, not processing what was happening. all you knew was that kazuha unexpectedly grabbed you and yanked you away, and now she was soaking wet.

you stammered, "are- are you okay?! wha... you're soaked! why'd you do that?"

the girl took a moment to catch her breath, slightly hunching over while still covering your head with the umbrella. your heart ached. ever so caring, kazuha was. even after she got drenched with rainwater (you cursed the car in your head), she was still making an effort to protect you from the rain.

kazuha gulped, her throat bobbing up and down. then, she stood up straight and looked at you, concern pooling in her eyes.

"are you okay? you're not hurt, are you?" she asked, trying to find any discomfort you could've showed.

you furrowed your eyebrows. was she being serious? she got splashed with water, to... to protect you! and now her favorite zip-up hoodie was ruined, and her uniform skirt was still dripping, and, you shuddered, her shoes and socks were wet. all because she wanted to keep you safe and dry.

you almost cried right then and there. how could you not like her?

"i'm okay. don't worry about me... but now you're all wet," you pointed out, "you can change at my house, i think you still have some clothes in my closet."

she hummed, face melting into a closed-eye smile, making you want to cup her cheeks and just kiss her like you'd always wanted.

you resume walking, your arm automatically looping with hers again, even though she told you that you would also get wet. the two of you fell back into a rhythm of avoiding puddles and making small talk in between. you almost forgot you were going to confess.

you looked around your surroundings, playing with your phone charm inside your jacket pocket. it was always something you did when you were nervous, to fidget with something. the dangly charm you bought with your friends on your class trip to jeju island was the more recent addition to the list.

"um, zuha?" you hesitantly started, "i actually do have something on my mind."

the japanese girl widened her eyes and nodded. "what's up, you feeling okay?"

her caring nature made it harder for you to confess. and now things you thought during the first few confessions were cycling through your mind again. what if she didn't like you like you did? what if you stopped being friends? would she be disgusted?

you swallowed the anxiety down, and took a few deep breaths for extra measure. "for a long time now, i-"

"ha! how you like that! you-" kazuha's ringtone went off, interrupting your (almost) confession. she frowned and put it on silent, then glancing back at you so you could finish what you were saying. more anxiety bubbled up.

"i-"

"ha! ho-"

groaning, she flashed you an apologetic smile and pressed the accept button on her phone. you stood there awkwardly and defeatedly, choosing to pass the time by looking around your surroundings. it took you a few moments to realize that you were already standing at the driveway of your own house.

when did that happen?

"seriously? ah, come on. i've already walked," kazuha grumbled to the person on the other side of the line. you'd already let go of her arm when she answered the call, unaware of your crush's disappointed eyes at your actions.

"okay, fine. why didn't anyone tell me?" she irritatedly asked. "no i didn't get the email, yujin, you know i barely check it."

after a few more lines exchanged between kazuha and the other person, (who you knew now was yujin) the japanese girl hung up with a tired sigh.

"y/n, i'm sorry, i can't stay this time. coach kang moved tomorrow's weekend scrimmage to today because she's visiting her dad tomorrow."

you could only sink your shoulders in dismay. "ah..."

there goes your confession. again.

"you should take the umbrella with you though. we're already here," you gestured to your doorway, "at my house."

kazuha pursed her lips and nodded.

"let me at least walk you to the door."

"okay."

this time, you didn't make an effort to keep kazuha out of the rain, feeling sullen. not that she minded, it allowed her to fully cover your head instead.

instead of waving you goodbye like she always did, kazuha brought you into an abrupt hug. "...bye, y/n," she mumbled into your hair, and left a fleeting kiss on your forehead.

then, she took off, leaving you dumbfounded and alone in the doorway of your home.

"okay, what the actual fuck," you said to your tablet, your friends on facetime.

sakura, who was in a heated match of overwatch, hummed disapprovingly as she clicked and mashed her keyboard furiously. "stop swearing in front of eunchae."

"sorry, mom."

"what happened, though? you've been repeating the same thing for the past 10 minutes," said chaewon, "did my plan work?"

eunchae nodded, the hair roller she was using on her bangs shaking with the movement. "yeah, did it? i can't tell if your reaction is positive or not."

you took a deep breath as you massaged your temples. "i don't know. on one hand, i couldn't confess because we got interrupted again, on the other hand..." you paused.

"what? tell us," urged sakura. it looked like she finished her game. she must've won, judging by the contented smile she had on her face, and the chirpy tone her voice held that you could hear through the crackly audio of your ipad.

"we were in front of my house, she hugged me and kissed me on the forehead. i don't know if this is a sign or not," you sighed.

"it's a sign," yunjin confidently said. it was her first time speaking in the call, despite it being almost 20 minutes since you impulsively facetimed the groupchat.

she rested her white mechanical pencil behind her ear and grinned. then, she went back to typing away at her laptop, not elaborating on her cryptic answer.

"what does that mean, yunjin-unnie?" the youngest asked, to no avail. the volleyball player had muted herself and started to scribble something down while scrolling on her computer.

you clicked your tongue. this behavior was unusual for yunjin; she was usually the most talkative, but today she kept to herself. she seemed to be deep in thought.

"um, okay," you coughed, "kkura-unnie, you said you had a plan right?"

she smiled, stretching out her arms. (you swore you heard a few cracks) "sure i do. i think it'll be fun."

"that's what eunchae and chaewon said, but look where we are now."

"just trust me, y/n."

3. sakura's idea: take a pottery class together (and have a heartfelt conversation as you shape clay) ("i don't have-") ("you make me pay all the time, obviously i'm paying for the class.") ("...")

you know what, maybe this will work out. sakura's idea was pretty sound, romantic, and wasn't something you usually did with kazuha.

it was saturday. the class was booked for 12 pm. you got up at around 9:30, got ready, and were now killing time in your room as you waited for kazuha to arrive.

today you were wearing an outfit that you had put out last night, after hours of deciding with the help of yunjin and sakura. (it was really just something you found from pinterest that you tried to replicate with the clothes in your closet) but combined with it was this silver star necklace that the girl of your affections gifted you for your birthday.

you only took it out on special occasions, terrified you were going to lose it or break it if you wore it too often. usually, you kept it in its box on your nightstand, sometimes taking it out to admire or while thinking of kazuha.

...maybe that was tmi.

pacing around your room, you bit your nail as you awaited a text from your date friend. kazuha was going to pick you up for a quick brunch before you set off for the pottery studio located in the central city area. for brunch, you were going to a café you frequented that some of your friends worked at. (minjeong and jimin usually gave you discounts that you and your light wallet thanked them for. they also tried to help you with your crush, but those attempts were something to talk about another day.)

"ding!" your phone beeped. you rushed over to your phone at the speed of light, only to see it was a notification from sakura detailing your booking information.

groaning, you unceremoniously fell onto your bed. it was still early, only about 10:30, and the meeting time was 11, but kazuha would always be early, insisting that she should pick you up from your home because that was the "least she could do." such a gentlewoman, she was.

your phone beeped again, and you were about to set it to 'do not disturb' in the midst of your moping, until you turned the device over to see that kazuha was the one texting.

from: zuha 🦢💙 im at your door :]

yelping, you scrambled for your bag and made sure you looked presentable as you dashed to your apartment door. before you opened it, you checked yourself for the second time on your phone camera for anything that could possibly harm kazuha's image of you.

and there she was, in all her glory. wearing a cropped shirt with a white and black flannel on top, combined with gray canvas pants held up by a black grommet belt. it seemed to compliment your outfit, in a way. 'maybe yunjin helped her with her outfit, too,' you surmised, shaking your head at the thought.

"hey!" she greeted, shyly waving her hand. you'd been through this process countless times, but you both always acted like it was the first time.

"hey," you mirrored, stepping out of your home and locking the door behind you. your hand gravitated toward kazuha's, the action not going unnoticed by the girl, and she took the initiative and interlocked your fingers together. you coughed into your other fist in an attempt to cover your blushing face.

you made your way out of the apartment complex, to the parking lot. the japanese girl led you to a pristine white convertible, opening the passenger's side for you and jogging over to get in the driver's seat. your hands had to part briefly, but once she sat down, her hand found yours again.

pushing the the start button, kazuha put her seatbelt on and grinned at you, revving the engine a few times. you laughed, shaking your head when she made a satisfied face while nodding her head.

"dad let me borrow for today. said he was counting on me and to treat you right," she recounted, "so hopefully i'm doing something right."

"you are, don't worry," you answered, but really what you wanted to say was, 'you always do, without even trying. making me feel like the luckiest person alive with just a laugh. just a smile.'

and off you went downtown. kazuha handed you the aux cord, and you sang along to some of your favorite tunes on the way there. eventually, you made it to the café, sliding in the small designated parking area. kazuha went around and opened the door for you, again, and you walked through the entrance.

minjeong was at the counter, no jimin in sight, but she offered you a teasing smile at the sight of you and kazuha together.

"welcome! will both of you be having the usual?" she asked, resting her hands on the counter.

your date(?) turned to you, and you nodded. "yeah, just the usual," she replied to minjeong, then adding, "we'll also have two... egg drop sandwiches."

minjeong entered your orders in the system, kazuha paid, and the familiar barista handed you your receipt. before you left to secure a table, she gave you a look that screamed "you have to tell me all about it later." you timidly smiled back.

the two of you sat in your usual spot, a table for two in a quiet corner next to the window facing the bustling streets of downtown seoul. it was where you had your study sessions and hangouts with kazuha, and close enough to occasionally talk to jimin and minjeong during their breaks.

speaking of jimin, you were wondering where she was. her and minjeong were usually on the same shift. you'll ask later, when your orders came.

for now, you observed the girl sitting across from you, who had started folding the receipt into an origami crane. she was very focused, tongue slightly sticking out as she meticulously folded the thin paper. she always did this, making cranes out of your receipt from the café. and she always left the finished product on the table, for the employees to add to the stack of cranes hanging on the selfie wall that she had made on previous visits.

once she was done, she placed it in the middle of the table, giving it a few taps to the top of its head with her finger. her eyes met yours, and you flinched, being caught staring.

"how's your morning, so far?" she asked with a dopey grin, arms now resting on the polished surface of the table. it took you a couple of seconds to process her words, eyes still tracking her movements.

"it's been," you coughed, reminded of the inner turmoil you had just an hour ago, "fine, better since you came, zuha."

nice going, you! yunjin would've been proud of that one. you'd say eunchae and chaewon too, since they're always watching those k-dramas that you get roped into, but yunjin always managed to say those cheesy pickup lines with a straight face... at least for a few seconds.

but it seemed to have worked because the girl across from you had a light blush on her face. she played with a few strands of her hair, her smile growing by the second.

"that was smooth," she remarked, letting her hand linger on top of yours for a few moments. now, it was your turn to blush. was she trying to kill you!?

time passed and your drinks and food came, you and her making small talk as you enjoyed your sandwiches. nothing really interesting happened, the brunch went on as usual, with kazuha stealing a bite of your sandwich (even though she had the exact same thing, saying it tasted better because it was yours) and you taking selfies with her.

(after asking minjeong, apparently jimin was out sick, so the younger girl was left alone, much to her irritation.)

eventually you left after finishing everything you ordered, walking out to the parking lot together. it was nice out, the sun peeking our behind fluffy clouds, and a refreshing breeze dancing at your feet.

"the sandwiches were super good," kazuha remarks, kicking a stray pebble in front of her. "but you know what sounds good right now?"

she opened the car door for you, and walked over to the other side so she could sit on the opposite side.

"what?" you raised an eyebrow, even though you already knew what she was going to say next.

"greek yogurt!" you both said, your shared laughter now echoing within the car.

she started the engine and started to pull out of the parking space, still giggling quietly. "maybe we can get some after the pottery class."

you hummed, stashing the receipt from earlier into the glove box. "yeah, we should."

the drive from the café to the studio was a short ride away, and the two of you spent it belting out the lyrics to 'lovesick girls' by blackpink. it was one of the must-play songs whenever you were on the road with each other; a ride wouldn't feel complete without it.

the lyrics didn't have a special meaning to you, per se. it was just the first song that started playing the first time you and kazuha shared earbuds. the japanese girl happened to be a major blackpink fan, and while you weren't particularly into the group, lovesick girls was a good song. after that day, it became routine to listen to it at least once when you were with her.

when the two of you pulled up to the pottery studio, you breathed out a 'thank you' to sakura in your head. because there was no way your broke ass could afford this place. it blended in with the buildings around it, sleek and modern, and it seemed to be a hotspot for couples on dates.

"welcome!" the employee at the studio bowed. the place was quite sophisticated, charmingly decorated but still managing to keep a homey atmosphere.

you followed them to the front desk, pulling up the information that sakura sent you in the midst of your earlier morning misery. "we have a session for 12?"

the employee nodded, scanning the barcode that was included in the email.

"y/n?"

"that's me," you awkwardly waved. kazuha stifled a laugh, and you nudged her shoulder.

you were both led to a more suited area for working with clay, which was a room that looked much more like a workshop than the neat and tidy reception that you were just at.

"all the tools are over here," the person gestured to a shelving system with clear labels of which tools went where, "and any clay you want to use is over here."

"the paints are next to the clays," they looked down at their wristwatch, "your session is booked until 2, have fun!"

and off they went, skipping right back to the reception desk humming a tune you've never heard before. did... did they just leave you?

your 'date' cleared her throat, looking to you as if you had an answer to the unspoken question that lingered in the air. well, you were dragged to those lessons by eunchae and yunjin twice before, so maybe sakura was planning for you to teach kazuha?

you set your bag down, sighing. "well, let's get started, i've done this before so i think i know what to do?"

she followed, putting her phone down next to the pottery wheel that was already on the table.

a good 15 minutes passed and you showed the girl the basics of working with clay on the wheel. thankfully you both have gone through the tortures and wonders of art class, so there was no need to teach her the ABCs of clay. but the wheel was quickly disregarded when you mentioned you wanted to make a pinch pot, and kazuha, ever the easily influenced, wanted to make one too. there goes part of sakura's plan...?

so you sat across from her, working on a pinch pot that you intended to be in the shape of a cat, while she was trying to make one of moomin. at least that's what she told you—it looked more like a lump attached to the side of the pot, but you weren't going to say that to her face when she looked so proud of herself.

"so, kazuha," you started, carving a feline expression onto your pot, "i have something to tell you."

the girl hummed, not looking up from her own project. she was currently chipping off bits of the edges of clay with a scalpel.

"you mean a lot to me, you know," a deep breath, "truly amazing. you're so talented, and kind, even though you're really dorky and sometimes i feel like you were sent from space- in a good way! it's cute..."

"...but i guess what i'm trying to say, as someone who admi- kazuha!?"

in the middle of your speech, kazuha had accidentally flung a piece of clay into her eye. was she caught off? you didn't know, well, more like you didn't care because you needed to call an ambulance, asap.

"i'm, i'm fine, i think," she hissed, her body betraying her words when her eye started watering an irregular amount and her eye was bloodshot when you could finally see it opened.

you shook your head, biting your lip as you texted the groupchat about what had happened, and took kazuha's keys as you dragged her out with you to the parking lot. luckily, you got your license last month so you should knew what you were doing.

jesus.

"you're going to smash your skull into that desk, y/n."

you felt two taps on your head and the desk respectively, and briefly glanced up to see your classmates aeri and yizhuo looking at you like you were a cow in space.

and so you continued knocking your head against the cheap wood. maybe it'll get bluetoothed to kazuha, making her realize that you liked her. or something.

you collapsed into the nest of what was your hoodie and arms, and let out a muffled scream.

aeri pursed her lips and patted you on the head in sympathy. "is it kazuha again?"

"it's so kazuha again," yizhuo dragged out. yizhuo had a very punchable face.

you swatted at the cheerleader, scowling. "can you shut up? i swear nothing goes well when it's just me and her."

it's been a week since the clay incident, when you took her to the emergency room. all was fine after the doctor checked her eye and prescribed her some eye drops to use over the course of two weeks. kazuha said that she was feeling okay in the physical sense, but it was pretty traumatizing for her (and you) to be in that situation.

"i'm all out of ideas. should i give up?" you asked, searching for any hint of disagreement in both of the girls' eyes.

they shared a look, and turned back to you. "how about baking cookies?" proposed aeri, grabbing a carton of strawberry milk from her bag and placing it on your desk. you accepted it gratefully, taking a sip almost immediately.

"cookies! i bet she would love those. what if you baked together? you should bake together."

baking. not your strongest suit. the last time you baked, you were banned from the kitchen for a month. but, well, that was because you were messing around with eunchae, and this time you would probably buy a cookie mix from the convenience store. you liked to think you were great at following instructions.

it was worth a shot, though. and you were willing to do anything. except maybe trying to tell her upfront again. that would be too easy. and you liked to torture yourself... for no reason(?)

"i'll try it. thanks, you two. if it goes well, i'll give you some cookies as a token of my gratitude."

yizhuo smiled. aeri looked away.

"we'll have to take a raincheck on that."

4. aeri and yizhuo's idea: bake cookies together! (and sneak in a little smooth "i love you" while you're at it!)

"what made you want to bake cookies all of a sudden, y/n?"

you felt a drop of sweat on your forehead. you and kazuha were getting bowls from the cabinet and ingredients from your fridge. your parents were out tonight, to your relief. not that their presence was unwelcome, but even they were tired of the waiting game with the girl you liked.

the sound of the metal bowls clacking against each other alarmed kazuha, causing her to peek out from the door of the fridge.

"no reason... i just felt like making them. with you! yeah."

"okay... how many eggs do we need?"

you checked the back of the box. "just one."

"okay! ...ow."

it seemed that when she closed the door of the fridge, she had forgotten that her head was there too. how did you predict this? many, many experiences. like how she accidentally let the door slam against her hand, which was holding a can of dr pepper, which then caused her to drop said can, leading to a huge mess on the tiled floor.

she looked at you with a pout, but now holding a singular egg and a stick of butter.

...this was going to be a long day.

...

okay, well maybe not long. it wasn't going that badly, actually. by not bad you mean you were now sitting at the kitchen island with kazuha, waiting for the butter to melt in the microwave. she'd already gotten the egg and water, and you had gotten a bowl and some vanilla extract to mix with the pre-made cookie mix.

it said to soften the butter, but neither of you knew what the difference between softening it and melting it was, so... here's hoping your kitchen doesn't burn down again! and here's hoping that minjeong wouldn't feel offended at your lack of knowledge about baking. that girl could bake a mean cake. and a mean punch.

"you're a great person, y/n," she said, reaching over to rest her hand over yours. you felt the tips of your ears burn at the action. where was this going? wasn't this your line?

then she gave you her signature smile, so warm it could melt you, and you felt like you were actually about to melt into the bar stool.

she squeezed your hand, redirecting her gaze to the counter that she was leaning against. "and i just want to say thank you for taking care of me. and that i really, really..."

you furrowed your brow. "really... what?"

she pointed to the microwave. you glanced over to where she was pointing, and squinted at it to see that there was a flame forming on top of the foil of the small bowl you put the butter in.

wait.

"oh my god, fire! kazuha, get the fire extinguisher, it's on the wall next to the balcony door!"

she rushed to get the tool, preparing to spray as you opened the microwave.

some of the foam got in your face, and you coughed, trying to wave it away from you. kazuha went a little overboard.

did you jinx yourself with the "here's hoping your kitchen doesn't burn down again"? yeah. were you surprised? no.

the athlete cautiously grasped the bowl with an oven mitt, slowly pulling it off of the glass dish. the foil was charred, and she pulled it open to reveal butter that was definitely melted. to the point that it had turned into liquid.

first of all, why did you microwave the butter with the foil on? second of all, why did you even microwave it for that long? you suddenly regretted the decision that the two of you had made to let it melt, soften, or whatever for five minutes.

you sighed, dropping your forehead to the counter. "sorry, zuha. i guess the cookies are a fail for today."

"it's okay, y/nnie," she shook her head, patting your back.

after you cleaned up failure #2 (#1 being the aforementioned cake with eunchae), you watched a few episodes of the latest k-drama with kazuha that night before she went home.

plan d of operation: ILYKZH was, undoubtedly, a fail.

karaoke was a place you and your friend group frequented. at first you avoided it like the plague, but with some convincing from your friends, you've grown comfortable with it.

with all the food and dessert you could order, and free entertainment, (watching sakura sing yet another red velvet song while chaewon and eunchae clap along) who wouldn't like karaoke? though it was mostly the pizza that kept you there. there has got to be some sort of secret ingredient they use.

it was your weekly visit to the usual place, and this time yunjin was accompanying you. you didn't know why she was, but she always paid whenever she came with you guys, so you didn't mind.

the group ordered their drinks, and of course the deluxe pizza and fries combo, and sakura was already looking for the next red velvet song to sing. you smiled fondly at the sight, watching the youngest try to convince her to pick another artist, even though you all knew it wasn't going to happen.

"do you think kkura-unnie's ever gonna stray away from her favorite group?" yunjin tapped your shoulder. you rested your chin on your palm and pretended to think, the american laughing at you soon after. it seemed the answer was delivered telepathically.

"maybe..." you glanced at the eldest, who was now singing a duet with chaewon of 'one of these nights', "...not."

"oh yeah, i have something for you," she reached into her purse, pulling out two slips of paper and presenting them to you.

you narrowed your eyes at her, "what're these? and what for?"

"they're tickets, silly! to the aquarium. i got them from theater club, but i don't need them. why not take zuha out?"

pause. should you trust yunjin? she'd been pretty quiet about your ordeal(s) involving the girl you liked, so who knew what she was planning?

but then you remembered the kitchen that was set on fire just three days ago, and so you took the pair of tickets from her hand anyway.

an invisible spark of understanding flared as you shook her hand.

plan e (e, really?) of operation: ILYKZH was a go.

5. yunjin's idea: go on an aquarium date, accompanied by the deep blue and the jellyfish

"be good, okay?" sakura said to you as you stepped out of the car, shielding your eyes from the glare of the sun.

you playfully scrunched up your nose. "you sound like my mom."

she stuck out her tongue at you, and you had half a mind to get back into the vehicle to flick her on the forehead.

"do it this time, y/n," she reminded you. not that you needed a reminder—the past four attempts were already enough of one.

but, still, she was right. if things didn't go well this time then you might just give up. it had almost been a year since you started trying to confess, after all.

the car door closed with a thump, and you waved at sakura through the window.

now, it was time to wait for kazuha. the girl was bound to arrive any moment now, since it was nearing the meetup time. usually, she'd get there before you, but yunjin probably gave her a ride, and yunjin was known to be a very punctual individual; she always arrived at the exact scheduled time, no earlier, no later.

the time on your phone hit 2:00 pm, and as expected, yunjin's gray SUV pulled up to the parking lot, kazuha in tow. they exchanged some words as they walked up to you, but you couldn't make out anything they were saying.

"hey, y/n!" the american waved to you, lightly pushing the other girl forward, to which she protested to.

"hi, y/n," she said quietly, bashfully scratching her neck. you covered your mouth with your hand to hide your giggles.

"hi kazuha, yunjin! right on time, as per usual."

yunjin nodded, "you know me. well, i hope you two have fun, send me pictures of the fish!"

...and she left.

now it was only you and kazuha, standing in front of the entrance to the aquarium.

"you..."

"huh?" you slightly flinched as she gently held your star pendant, caressing it like it was the most fragile thing on earth.

she softly smiled, looking deeply into your eyes. "you're wearing the necklace."

your heart burst into flames. maybe now was a good time to call sakura to come pick you up with the excuse of having heart palpitations. wait, no, y/n! you have to go on!

hurriedly turning away, you gestured to the glass doors of the building. "let's head in!"

in all honesty, you'd already been here more than a few times, and you'd practically memorized layout of the place. kazuha, however, hadn't, this being her first visit to the aquarium since moving to seoul.

so you let yourself be whisked away by the athlete, wandering through the many, many habitats in one of the biggest aquariums in korea. the two of you stopped by the gift shop, kazuha buying you one of the giant shark plushies, and of course you had to take tons of pictures with it in the shark tunnel.

after clearing most of the sections, you ended up going back to the jellyfish exhibits.

"they're just so interesting, the way they just float around, you know?" she said, face illuminated by the blue light of the tank.

you took a moment to admire the sight, stepping closer to observe the moon jellies alongside her. "i get you," you smiled, eyes following the jellies in no particular order. "they're so pretty. especially with the tank lighting."

kazuha turned her head to look at you, a grin spreading on her face as well. "wait, don't move."

in a second, all you could hear was your own thumping heart as the girl's thumb picked something off your face. her own face was incredibly close to yours, her breath fanning your lips as she leaned even closer to you.

"y/n, i..."

at some point (you didn't remember) you felt your eyelids falling shut, anticipating the feeling of her lips on yours.

...but that feeling never came.

"sir, get out of the tank, please! sir!"

the murmur of the crowd behind you became louder, security and staff rushing to another section of the aquarium, shouting warnings one after another.

you jumped away from kazuha, whipping your head around to see the man fighting off two staff members inside one of the tanks, people gathering around it to record the scene.

"what the hell..." you mumbled, turning back to the girl you almost kissed. she looked at you with furrowed brows, a confused expression on her face, similar to yours.

you shifted on your feet, pursing your lips. "we should get out of here. before," you pointed at the situation behind you which one would only deem as utterly ridiculous, "any of that gets worse."

she nodded, and the both of you speed walked to the exit of the building, choosing not to talk about what had happened before you got interrupted. you called sakura, and kazuha called yunjin, and you found yourself in front of the entrance again like in the morning.

that night, you let your dreams finish the moment for you.

+1.

you, sakura, eunchae, chaewon, yunjin, and kazuha all stood in front of the ferris wheel at everland. it was late—the sun was long gone, replaced by the glowing crescent moon.

the ferris wheel was a popular attraction, typically saved for the end of the day. and in your friends' words: the perfect confession spot. you'd already told them you were giving up after the last time, but they just wouldn't budge.

unsurprisingly, you and kazuha were somehow shoved into the cabin together.

as the cabin rose up into the air, you fidgeted with the star pendant resting on your chest. the ride was filled with awkward silence, the two of you sitting on opposite sides but looking away from each other.

you said you were giving up, but deep down you really hadn't. it was hard to stop liking someone you fell for two years ago. even now, your heart was still beating fast just looking at the girl. you wondered when, if ever, these feelings would stop. would you be happy?

the ride was now nearing the top, the night sky becoming more visible from the windows of the cabin.

"hey, y/n..." kazuha said, her voice breaking the silence. your gaze remained outside, unmoving, finding it hard to speak, but you answered regardless.

"yeah?"

"i like you too."

you'd nearly gotten a cramp at how fast your neck turned to meet kazuha's eyes.

"what?"

"i heard you and yunjin and sakura-unnie talking. about how you were going to give up on me, and i was so confused but i finally figured it out," she blurted out, suddenly feeling embarrassed at how quickly she said those words in succession. "and i know you've been trying to tell me but god, i'm so, so stupid."

"y/n," she moved to your side of the booth, taking your hands in hers. there was a mix of determination, honesty, and apology that you could clearly see in her eyes, putting you in a trance.

"i'm sorry it took me this long. but, i like you. so much that i can't sleep at night because all i can think of is you. so much that i spend hours and hours talking about you to yunjin, to the point where she's even blocked me because i just wouldn't stop. so much tha-"

peach. peach was what nakamura kazuha's lips tasted like, the peach flavored lip gloss that you got her on a whim on a random tuesday. your arms naturally looped around her neck, hers wrapping around your waist as she pulled you closer to her, lips moving against yours in a clumsy rhythm.

when you pulled away briefly, forehead resting on hers, she grinned.

"what are you smiling at?"

"you taste like vanilla soft serve."

you shook your head lightly in disbelief. "i had some earlier."

she huffed. "i know."

and her lips were on yours once again.

(when you came out from the cabin, hand in hand with messy hair and smudged lip gloss, you were met with four pairs of knowing looks.

sakura was the first to speak. "who said it?"

you and kazuha looked at each other in confusion. "uh, what?"

"who confessed!" chaewon groaned, puffing her cheeks up in impatience.

"kazuha did," you said before your now girlfriend could.

sakura and yunjin pumped their fists in the air, even going as far as giving each other a spirited hug. you smiled at the thought of them being happy for you and kazuha, until you saw eunchae and chaewon grumbling and pulling 50,000 won bills out of their wallets.

"you guys seriously bet on us?" the girl beside you asked, mouth agape.

"we waited two years, we might as well make something out of it!" the american said as she took the golden bill from chaewon, celebrating.

"unbelievable.")

a/n : tell me to write something and i come up with something entirely different this is why i have like 8 wips

#le sserafim x reader #nakamura kazuha x reader #le sserafim imagines #girl group imagines #girl group x reader #nakamura kazuha le sserafim #nakamura kazuha #le sserafim

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