#i think he never felt like she was someone he could call his

[serensho]

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა

ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა

wings

in which mark meets someone with viltrumite-like powers — and has an angel’s wings?

invincible x fem!reader

warnings: world-building, smut fluff, not canon-compliant at all

inspired by kali uchis’s angel & igual que un angel

wc: 2800

“We don’t know exactly where she came from… but we do know she fell from an extreme height in the sky, or even space, down to Earth.”

Mark examines the hospital bed as he glances at Cecil with suspicion. He crosses his arms, puffing his chest out as he peers closer through the glass. It’s unlike Cecil to joke, much less about something as ridiculous as this.

“Do you realize what you’re telling me right now? Some girl with angel wings fell out of the sky suddenly? Is this some sort of prank?”

Cecil sighs, looking at his feet as he pinches the bridge of his nose. 

“No, Mark. She fell in Chicago, and left a huge mess for us to clean up. But after everything that’s happened, who knows maybe she was sent here for a reason. God knows that the city needs something to believe in after all the destruction.”

Mark turns away from the glass, fidgeting as he looks at the ground. 

“So why did you call me here? Is there some sort of problem with her?” Mark asks as he turns back to Cecil, sizing him up. 

Their relationship was never a good one, but when Mark received a message that he needed his help with some sort of situation, he felt compelled to come to the Pentagon, despite their bad blood. There was some sort of unexplainable pull – a siren’s call urging him to listen for once to see what was happening. But maybe that gut feeling was wrong, since all Cecil had done so far was present to him some poor girl in a hospital gown hooked up to countless machines, her wings held tightly together with some sort of harness or tape so that they couldn’t take up too much space. They looked to be pretty big, a mixture of ivory and white but he couldn’t get too good of a look as she shifted in the cot.

“Well, we’ve been running some tests and found out some interesting information about whatever she might be. She’s incredibly strong, and if she wakes up on the wrong side of the bed could do some major damage, even more than when she fell. And –”

Mark scoffs, rolling his eyes. Cecil gives him a look before continuing, “Mark, we believe the powers she possesses aren’t that far off from your own, or even Atom Eve’s. She can make beams of pure light, heal herself, and even though she’s unconscious has some ability to sense and manipulate the emotions of those around her. Don’t ask how we found that out.”

Mark raises his eyebrows in confusion looking back toward the girl behind the glass. 

“I see. What do you want me to do about it?” 

“Well, the reason you turned out so…you is because of your mother and the fact that you got to experience humanity. So, show her how to be human.”

Mark stutters out, “Huh!? Do you want me to play house with her and show her the ropes of being normal? I’m the last person who could do that!”

Cecil rolls his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. “What I really want is for you to let her stay at your home for a bit, let her experience some normalcy. For all we know she could be here to take over Earth. Or because it’s some sort of punishment. Just let Debbie talk to her at least. She’s doing a pretty good job with Oliver so far.”

“You want me to let her stay with my family? No way–”

“I already spoke to Debbie and she said she doesn’t mind. Even though the girl has powers, she could’ve used them in far worse ways and hasn’t yet. She just crashed here, passed out upon impact and has been sleeping since. But we think she’ll wake up soon.” 

As soon as Cecil finished speaking, Mark heard the sounds of the monitors behind the glass beeping rapidly. He watched as you woke up slowly, rubbing your eyes, stretching your arms, pushing against the restraints against your wings until you looked to your back in confusion. You examined your surroundings before landing on Mark and Cecil, walking towards the glass, tapping on it tentatively. 

Mark looks you up and down as you stare back at him with curiosity. There’s definitely something otherworldly in the way you move, not to mention your looks. Such beautiful eyes, a shine in them that gleams as he finally makes eye contact with you. There’s a strange swirling in his stomach – but that was probably just your powers. 

You tilt your head, eyeing Mark in his suit. The way his muscles ripple, material spread taut along the span of his shoulders and his sharp jawline visible – but you can’t see his eyes. You huff and turn away from the glass. 

“Where’s Donald? He always spoke to me. You just stare and this one I’ve never met before,” You say as you conjure up a beam of light that cuts through the bindings holding your wings together. 

“He’s busy. And you have someone new to talk to: Mark Grayson,” Cecil introduces, patting Mark on the back before opening up the door to your room, ushering Mark in. He bristled as the door slammed shut behind him, effectively trapping him and you together. 

The air felt different suddenly. Electric. He watched in awe as you stretched and unfurled your wings a few feathers falling and landing gracefully. They seemed to somehow shimmer despite the sterile lighting and looked impossibly soft. He met your eyes seeing a vulnerability in your gaze that hadn’t been there before. But as soon as it appeared it faded away as you spoke.

“So they want you to be my babysitter? The customs of my people are not that different from yours. But you’re not completely human, are you Mark Grayson?” You asked your eyes never leaving him as you walked around him, examining him. You went to grab his goggles off of his face before he swatted you away.

“No, no I’m not. But I’m not going to treat you like a child. Cecil just wants me to… help you adjust to life here on Earth.”

“Oh.” You looked away from his eyes standing in front of him with your arms crossed. “I may have just awoken, but I know many things. Your kind– your father’s kind are the reason I’m here. But I…I can’t remember what exactly happened to my….” You trailed off, a hand coming to your face as you turned your back to him, wings filling his vision completely. 

Mark wanted to reach out, to comfort you somehow but he didn’t know what to do. “I can guarantee you, that I am nothing like my father, or any Viltrumite,” he spat the word out in disgust. 

You turned back around, conjuring a small beam of light that reached out to him, and he froze. Were you going to attack him? Instead, the light shaped into a hand-like shape, its fingers taking off his mask and goggles and placing them gently onto your cot. You waved the beam away as you walked towards him again, finally completely face to face with him. In the silence there was an understanding and again, that pulled towards you to let you do whatever you wanted with him, to him, and he felt frozen in place.

“A heart like yours has gone extinct among the Viltrumites, if it ever even existed in the first place. And my own I think is what caused me to be sent here. I won’t harm you Mark.”

In your luminous eyes he saw his own and relief washed over him. A heart like his? He wasn’t sure if whatever you were sensing was a result of your powers or just sweet talk. But he was definitely looking forward to learning more about you. 

“You think you’re here because of Viltrumites?” he asked as he shifted under your gaze.

“I think so. Whatever my purpose is, it’s tied to you and this planet. But it’s as though a fog has been placed over my mind, I-I can’t completely remember. I do remember falling, sorry about that,” You played with the end of your hospital gown nervously. “But I feel it in my chest, in my soul that I’m in the right place.”

You smiled gingerly at him, something new in your eyes. Embarrassment, maybe from the fall and having been so close to him.

“Alright. If you’re going to live with me and my family there’s a few rules that need to be laid out.”

Mark wasn’t kidding when he said there were lots of rules for you to follow. Despite being under Cecil’s watchful eye regardless, Mark made sure to keep tabs on your whereabouts and what you were doing as much as he could. You spent a lot of time at his home, helping Debbie with dinner, watching and spending time with Oliver, becoming a role model and friend to him. You especially liked playing sports with him, and flying since he was so curious about your wings. They also fascinated Debbie, the only person you had let touch them, feeling a sense of comfortability only a mother could create. It was fleeting, but it was a sign that you were embracing this new life, something you explained to Mark after she had rubbed the space between them on a night when you were feeling homesick, not having left your bed all day.

In a way, you just fit into his home, his family so well, he couldn’t help as that pull towards you, grew into a sense of affection and fondness. And that feeling was tested one day when Mark went up against a particularly strong villain.

Mark really hadn’t expected the guy to be so strong. He was facing punch after punch, being beaten into the ground late at night when he looked towards the sky and saw… it had to be–

A blinding beam of light exploded, shattering nearby windows, the force pushing the attacker away. Somehow you had created a cell of light that he was now trapped in, hearing his shouts of pain and the sizzling of skin as he tried to get out.

“Mark! I saw what was happening and had to help–I’m sorry I wasn’t here sooner,” You exclaimed as your hand hovered above the center of his forehead. His limbs and face tingled as he closed his eyes, succumbing to the feeling that began to roll over him in crashing waves of tenderness, softness. Your healing powers began to take effect as he felt himself finally able to sit up.

“T-Thank you, angel…” He coughed as he looked toward you, a vulnerability in your eyes that was reserved only for him. 

You wrapped your arms around him tightly, melting into him as you scratched at the hairs near the nape of his neck. That felt good…

“I was so scared, Mark. Please–Please you have to let me and Oliver help you. Don’t ever go off on your own like this again!” You let go of him as you looked into his eyes, scolding him. Your gleaming eyes seemed to glow in the moonlight, eyes shining with tears. One fell, Mark carefully brushing it away as he cupped your face delicately.

“I’m sorry. Let’s go home, angel.”

Instead of staying in your own bed that night, you ended up in Mark’s, tending to his lingering aches and pains wearing one of his shirts that you cut the back off to make room for your wings. You began rubbing his back, relaxing him further before he moved to face you.

After what had happened, he knew he had to do something, to finally act on whatever it was lingering between you. You looked at him, as curious as the first time you met and tilted your head so cutely.

“Is something wrong, Mark? Was I too rough?”

He waved his hand away, dismissing what you had said. 

“No, never angel. It’s just I was thinking and maybe I could…” He took a deep breath before taking your hand into his, “Maybe I could help you relax too? Could I touch your wings?”

You offered a coy smile, eyes downcast. You looked up into his eyes, watching as his face bloomed into a timid smile matching your own. You nodded, before saying, “I might need some help, you know,” You gestured to your–no, his shirt. You turned your back to him, crossing your arms as you moved to take it off, Mark rushing to help you. 

“O-Oh yeah, of course.” 

He helped you take it off carefully, the expanse of your back visible to him, wings unfurling and fluttering coquettishly. His hands hovered as he took in the sight before him. He could also see the soft curve of your breasts, but they became obscured as you crossed your arms. 

“You can touch me. I trust you, Mark.”

He swallowed, before rubbing the space in between your wings watching as you rolled your neck. The skin there was soft, and he moved to touch where your wings protruded from your back. You shifted, a small noise of pleasure escaping from your mouth.

He continued, stroking the feathers of your wings as he felt you relax, slumping slightly. They were so soft, so delicate and yet he could feel the strong hard muscle lying underneath. He began to massage the space beneath where your wings came out from your back and you whimpered, wings fluttering and stretching out further. You moved to clasp a hand over your mouth in shame before Mark leaned into your back whispering against your ear, his voice seeming to deepen.

“It’s okay, baby. Let me hear you, angel. Can I keep touching you? Somewhere else, maybe?” 

“Y-yes, please,” you whined quietly, music to his ears. 

Mark reached around from behind you to cup your breasts, feeling their weight between his hands. You turned your head to the side, the sensation engulfing you as he began to place soft kisses against your neck. He rolled a nipple between his fingers, pinching it as he began to nip and suck against your neck. His rough hands felt so good against your silky skin and he breathed in your sweet smell.

“You like that, angel?”

You nodded, crying out in pleasure, already sensitive from his hands on your wings.

“Use your words, sweet girl.”

“Mmmm, I love it. Please Mark, please,” you begged, unsure of what you were even chasing as his lips met yours in a searing kiss. Your tongues melded together as you brought your hand to run through his hair, your other becoming entwined with one of his hands still playing with your chest. The kiss continued, as Mark trailed his hands lower, pulling away to look into your eyes, asking for permission. The hand in his hair left, guiding it to the heaven between your legs as you began to grind against his hand. 

“Angel, you’re so wet.”

He lovingly caressed you, rubbing against your clit over your panties as he pulled you into another kiss, swallowing your moans. He rubbed faster, as your breathing became heavier, pleasure overwhelming your senses. 

“Mark–!” you cried out as a final warning before complete bliss filled your senses, wings spreading as far as they could, the downy feathers glowing. The room was illuminated as you came down from your high, slouching into his embrace as you rested your head against his shoulder. He kissed your temple as you felt something warm and hard…and wet against your backside.

“Mark, did you…?” You looked into his tired eyes as he looked to the ceiling in embarrassment.

“I-I couldn’t help it!” He stuttered out as you shifted, your bodies moving against the bed until you were on top of him, straddling him.

Your eyes shimmered as you splayed your hands across his chest, kissing him sweetly. Whatever this was– at first it felt inevitable, inescapable. But now you knew that you two were meant to be, a connection, a binding of hearts that were meant to connect in one way or another. It just happened to be like this. He looked at you as you used your powers to convey this feeling, eyes softening even further if possible, as he tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear, placing his hands on your hips and squeezing.

You laid on top of him, your wings creating a sort of cocoon around you both as you whispered into his ear as he had before your voice sultry and yet sweet, “It’s okay, baby. Now I get to return the favor.”

You two were in for a very, very, long night.

a/n: if you made it this far, thank you for reading! this is my longest fic to date and i hope you all enjoy it!! i'd love to maybe make this a series of sorts w/ supernatural reader so lmk what you'd like to see; i'm also going to begin working on that hercules!au but please send in requests and inspo, i'd love to hear your thoughts!!

[mandoalorian]

brooklyn baby [bucky barnes x f!reader]

Pairing: Congressman!Bucky Barnes x Personal Assistant!Reader

Synopsis: Hiding out in your Brooklyn apartment, Bucky finally lets his guard down, opening up about his past and the ghosts that still haunt him. As they navigate their growing connection, the threat looming over them becomes impossible to ignore. When an old friend shows up with a plan, Bucky is forced to decide—stay in the shadows or fight back before it’s too late.

Word Count: 3100

Tags/warnings: 18+ explicit content. employer x employee, m!receiving oral, handjobs, riding, delayed gratification, edging, praise kink, you take care of your boss

Masterlist

prev chapter <3 | congress & carnality masterlist

The fallout from the airport fight spiralled faster than either of you could have imagined. The media had latched onto the image of Bucky punching the man to the ground, and within hours, every major outlet was dissecting it. The headlines were brutal.

“James Barnes: Hero or Menace?”

“Ex-Winter Soldier Loses Control—Again.”

“Congressman Barnes’ Violent Outburst Sparks Controversy.”

The press swarmed as soon as you landed. Paparazzi lined the exits, their cameras flashing like a relentless storm, and reporters shouted over one another.

“Congressman Barnes! Was the attack premeditated?”

“Do you think your violent history makes you unfit for office?”

“Who was the woman with you? A secret lover?”

“Will there be an investigation?”

The tension sat thick between you. The worst part? The whispers were growing. Bucky wasn’t just under scrutiny for the fight—someone was leaking information. Photos of the two of you together, too close in quiet moments, grainy images taken from a distance that suggested something more than professionalism. A calculated attack.

You scrolled through your phone, reading the latest articles.

“Sources close to Barnes reveal he’s been engaging in an unprofessional relationship with a member of his staff.”

“Anonymous insiders claim the Congressman has been seen getting intimate with his assistant behind closed doors.”

“A political scandal brewing?”

Your stomach twisted. “Bucky…” You hesitated, then turned your screen toward him.

He barely spared it a glance. “I know,” he muttered. “I saw it this morning.”

Your heart pounded. “Who’s doing this?”

Bucky exhaled slowly, running a hand over his face. “I don’t know. But I have a feeling.”

And then there was Tara. She had been oddly distant all morning—no witty remarks, no passive-aggressive jabs. Just silence. That alone made your skin crawl.

Bucky’s phone buzzed. He glanced at it, then cursed under his breath. “I need to call Sam.”

You frowned. “Sam?”

“If they think they can silence me, they’re wrong.” His expression darkened. “This isn’t just about the fight. It’s bigger than that. Someone’s trying to control me. And I won’t let them.”

You swallowed hard. “Bucky… what are you planning?”

He finally looked at you, his blue eyes stormy and determined. “I’m going to find out who’s behind this. And I’m going to bring them down.”

The drive back to Brooklyn was quiet, but not uncomfortable. After everything that had happened—the fight at the airport, the media storm, the looming threats—you were both exhausted. The city lights blurred past the car windows, and Bucky’s fingers twitched on his thigh as if itching to reach for you.

When the car finally pulled up in front of your apartment building, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. Home. For now, at least.

Bucky followed you inside, scanning the surroundings like a soldier surveying new territory. He had been in your space before, but never like this—never in a way that felt so permanent, so inevitable.

“Make yourself comfortable,” you murmured, slipping off your coat. “I’ll get you something to drink.”

Bucky nodded but didn’t sit. Instead, he wandered over to the bookshelf near your window, eyes tracing over the spines of books and the small trinkets you had collected over the years.

“You’re a reader,” he noted, running his fingers along the edges of a few well-worn novels.

You smiled, handing him a glass of water. “Always have been. I used to spend hours at the library as a kid.”

He hummed, taking a sip. “Me too.”

That surprised you. “Really?”

Bucky leaned against the windowsill, a small, wistful smile playing at his lips. “Yeah. My ma worked long hours, so sometimes she’d drop me and Rebecca off at the library. I’d read anything I could get my hands on—adventure stories, war novels, even poetry.” He shook his head with a chuckle. “Steve always made fun of me for that one.”

Your chest warmed at the thought of a younger Bucky, lost in books, before the war, before everything. “I think that’s sweet. Rebecca is…?”

“My youngest sister,” Bucky answered, his lips curling into a small smile. “She lives up in Indiana, in a care-home. I try and visit when I can but, it’s a busy life. I think she’d like you, actually.”

The last part made your heart warm. You walked over to the Congressman, passing him a glass of neat whiskey. His favourite. “You have more than one sister?”

“I have— had— three sisters. Rebecca, Betty, and Winnie. Becca is the only one still with us. I was the older brother, always doing my best to take care of them. I taught them how to read, actually.” Bucky laughed fondly at the memory and took a swig of his drink. You gazed up at him, mesmerised. He had never opened up like this before, and it felt good to know he was this comfortable around you. 

“I bet you were the most wonderful big brother,” you said, rubbing your hand on Bucky’s shoulder soothingly. You felt the knots under his skin, the tension.

“I tried to be,” Bucky replied. “I miss my sisters all the time. When HYDRA kidnapped me, my sisters had to bury me. They believed me to be dead. In the fifties, Betty passed away from a short-lived illness, and in the seventies, we lost Winnie too. I never got the chance to see them again.”

You were lost for words. No person should have ever gone through something like that. You were beginning to understand now why Bucky’s campaigning was so important to him, and why he was so worried about a Super Soldier revival. 

“I think… I think I’d like to meet Rebecca one day. I’m sure she has some funny stories about her big brother.”

Bucky laughed. “I’d like for you to meet her too. She’s so important to me, you know?”

“Of course.”  You replied. 

“When I came back, got my freedom, I tracked her down. When she saw me, she thought she’d died and gone to heaven,” Bucky revealed, his blue eyes wide with sadness. “I got to learn all about the life she lived without me. Got herself a husband and had kids, then grandkids, a dog too. She named her son after me, actually. I used to long for that sort of thing. A family. But I guess the universe had other ideas.” Bucky glanced at you, his gaze softer now that he had shared that. “What about you? What was your childhood like?”

You hesitated for a moment before shrugging. “Not as interesting as yours, I’m sure. I moved around a lot. Never really had a place that felt like home until I came here.”

Bucky’s brow furrowed slightly. “You got family?”

You nodded. “Yeah, but we’re not close.”

He didn’t press, and you were grateful for that. Instead, he simply said, “Then this is home.”

Something about the way he said it made your throat tighten. Home was never a place for you, not when you moved about so much. You couldn’t afford to make a place a home, but that comfort and care and love that a home was supposed to give, you had found with Bucky. No matter if you were in his office, flying on his jet or in a Tokyo hotel room. Bucky felt like home.

You looked away, clearing your throat. “You hungry?”

Bucky smirked. “Depends. You offering to cook?”

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, Barnes.”

But the teasing felt good. Normal. Like, despite everything, the world hadn’t completely spun off its axis.

Eventually, after sharing stories of childhood mischief and Brooklyn winters, you both ended up in your bedroom. The weight of the past few days, the exhaustion, the tension—it all melted away as you curled into each other.

Bucky’s hands were warm as they traced your spine, and his breath was steady against your neck.

“You tired?” he murmured.

You should have been. But with his body pressed against yours, sleep was the last thing on your mind.

“No,” you whispered, tilting your head to meet his gaze.

His eyes darkened. “Good.”

His lips were on yours before you could say another word, slow and deep, his tongue sweeping into your mouth as he rolled you onto your back. His hands wandered, exploring, claiming, but when his fingers brushed the hem of your sleep shorts, you pulled back.

“Let me,” you whispered, your hands already working at the waistband of his sweatpants.

Bucky’s breath hitched. “You don’t have to—”

“I want to.”

And God, you did. You had felt him before, had touched him, but you had never taken him in your mouth, never had the chance to make him fall apart beneath you.

Bucky swallowed hard, watching as you moved down the bed, your hands sliding his sweatpants and boxers down in one slow motion. His cock was already hard, thick and flushed, twitching slightly as the cool air hit him.

You licked your lips. “You’re so big…”

Bucky groaned, his head falling back against the pillows. “Fuck, sweetheart…”

You started slow, kissing the tip, licking a teasing stripe up his length. His fingers twitched at his sides, as if resisting the urge to grab your hair.

When you finally took him into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks and sucking him in deep, Bucky let out a strangled moan.

“Jesus—” His hand found the back of your head, his hips lifting slightly off the bed. “You’re gonna kill me.”

You licked a slow stripe up the underside of his cock, savouring the way he twitched under your tongue. The weight of him in your hand was heavy, thick, veins pulsing against your palm as you gave him a slow, deliberate stroke.

Bucky sucked in a sharp breath. “Fuck, baby…”

His voice was rough, edged with desperation, and it made you even wetter, the power of having him like this sending a thrill through your body. You flicked your tongue over the head, teasing the slit before wrapping your lips around him, hollowing your cheeks as you took him deeper.

Bucky groaned, his hand sliding into your hair, not pushing, just resting there, fingers flexing every time you swallowed around him. His thighs were tense, his abs flexing under the soft glow of the bedroom light as you bobbed your head, letting saliva drip down his shaft, making everything slick and messy.

“Jesus—” His voice cracked when you took him even deeper, your throat constricting as you forced yourself to take more. “God, you’re—fuck, you’re so good at that.”

His praise made heat pool between your legs, and you moaned around him, the vibrations making his hips jerk involuntarily.

“Shit, shit—” His grip tightened in your hair as you started to work him harder, stroking him with your hand in tandem with your mouth, your tongue swirling around the head, sucking him in deep before pulling off just to tease him with kitten licks.

Bucky’s breath hitched. His chest rose and fell in sharp, uneven breaths, sweat beading along his collarbone as he fought for control. “If you keep that up, I’m not gonna last.”

You pulled off with a wet pop, grinning as you pumped him with your hand. “Maybe I don’t want you to last.”

His eyes darkened. “You tryin’ to kill me, sweetheart?”

You bit your lip, looking up at him through your lashes. “I want you to lose control.”

Bucky let out a strangled sound, his cock twitching in your grip. “Oh, fuck.”

Before he could even think about stopping you, you took him back into your mouth, sucking him even harder, your tongue tracing every ridge and vein, your hand twisting at the base. The lewd, wet sounds filled the room, mixing with Bucky’s harsh breaths, the curses falling from his lips.

“Shit—” His head fell back, eyes screwing shut as his thighs trembled. “I—baby, I’m gonna—”

You didn’t stop. You wanted it, wanted to taste him, to push him over the edge, and when you swallowed around him, that was it.

Bucky came with a broken moan, his body shuddering as he spilled into your mouth. You took it all, swallowing every drop, your tongue swirling to clean him up before you finally pulled back, pressing a teasing kiss to his sensitive tip.

Bucky was still catching his breath when you climbed up his body, straddling his lap. His hands found your hips instinctively, his fingers pressing into your skin as he looked up at you with blown pupils, his hair sticking to his forehead.

“You tryin’ to kill me?” he rasped.

You smirked, grinding your soaked core against his still-hard cock. “You’re still hard.”

Bucky groaned, his grip on your hips tightening. “You ride me right now, I swear to God, I’ll—”

You didn’t let him finish. You reached between your bodies, lining him up before sinking down onto him in one slow, deliberate motion.

Bucky’s jaw went slack. “Holy—fuck.”

You gasped, the stretch stealing your breath, your fingers digging into his chest for balance. He filled you so perfectly, so deep, the pressure overwhelming in the best way.

Bucky groaned, his hands dragging up your waist. “Goddamn, sweetheart, you feel so fuckin’ good.”

You started to move, rolling your hips, setting a slow, teasing rhythm that had Bucky cursing under his breath. His hands gripped your ass, guiding you, his jaw clenched like he was barely holding it together.

“Faster,” he gritted out.

You obeyed, picking up the pace, bouncing on him as your nails raked down his chest. He was so deep, hitting the perfect spot with every movement, and when he reached between your bodies, rubbing your clit in tight circles, you cried out, your walls fluttering around him.

“Fuck, that’s it,” Bucky groaned, his hips thrusting up to meet yours. “Come for me, baby. Let me feel you.”

The pleasure coiled tight, your body tensing before it snapped, your orgasm crashing over you in waves. You moaned his name, your walls pulsing around him as you clung to him, trembling.

Bucky wasn’t far behind. He gritted out a curse, his hands gripping you tight as he drove up into you a few more times before he spilled deep inside you, his whole body tensing beneath you.

You both stayed there, panting, your forehead resting against his.

Bucky let out a breathless laugh. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”

You smirked, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “But what a way to go.”

Bucky let out a breathless laugh. “That was…”

You grinned. “Good?”

He reached for you, pulling you back up and kissing you, his tongue sweeping against yours. “More than good.”

You curled up beside him, your head resting on his chest. His fingers traced lazy patterns on your back, and for the first time in days, you felt safe.

“Get some sleep,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your hair. “I’ve got you.”

And you believed him.

You closed your eyes and within minutes, you drifted into a well-needed sleep. But Bucky? Bucky was wide awake. He could not shake the thoughts of a new super soldier serum, and he could not rest until he got clarity. He didn’t even care about the campaign anymore, all he cared about was you and the possibility that more unconsenting people — more soldiers — would have to go through what he went through for seventy years.

Bucky lay there staring at the ceiling, occasionally picking up his phone to check the headlines, a reminder of the threats to you and your career.  When the room was dark and your breathing had evened out, Bucky slipped out of bed. He dressed quickly, his movements silent, and with one last glance at you, he slipped out the door.

Sam Wilson, none other than Captain America himself, was waiting for him in a parked car outside.

Bucky followed Sam through the dimly lit parking lot, the cool night air doing little to settle the storm in his chest. He hadn’t told you where he was going, just slipped out while you were sleeping, your body curled up in the sheets that still smelled like him. He hated leaving you like that, but this—this was bigger than both of you.

Sam leaned against the hood of his car, arms crossed as he studied Bucky with sharp, knowing eyes. “You look like shit,” Sam remarked. “Rough night?”

Bucky huffed out a dry chuckle, running a hand through his hair. “Something like that.”

Sam nodded, then got straight to business. “There’s a gala happening for Ross tonight. Big event, all the right people in the room. And guess who got an invite?” He tapped his chest. “Captain America, plus one.”

Bucky arched a brow. “You asking me to be your date?”

“I’m asking you to help me dig up whatever the hell Ross is hiding,” Sam corrected. “I was gonna take Joaquin, but I think you need to be there more than he does.”

Bucky exhaled slowly. “You really think we’ll find something?”

Sam gave him a look. “I know we will.”

That was all the convincing Bucky needed.

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The sunlight creeping through the curtains was what finally pulled you from sleep. You reached across the bed instinctively, but your hand met cold sheets. Your brows furrowed as your fingers skimmed the emptiness beside you.

“Bucky?” you murmured, voice rough with sleep.

Silence.

You sat up, glancing around the dimly lit bedroom. His clothes were gone. The shoes he’d left by the door—gone. You reached for your phone, a strange weight settling in your chest as you unlocked it. No messages. No missed calls.

What the hell?

Your fingers hovered over his contact, debating whether to call him. Instead, you sent a text:

Where did you go?

A few minutes passed. No response.

Another message.

Bucky?

Still nothing. The weight in your chest grew heavier.

Frustration gnawed at you as you swung your legs over the side of the bed, standing abruptly. Did he just leave? No note, no explanation? After everything last night?

You pulled on a hoodie, shoving your phone in the pocket before heading toward the kitchen. You needed coffee. And maybe an explanation for why Bucky Barnes had a habit of disappearing on you.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

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[ilikerafayelwaytoomuch]

How the LADS men react to you having a hard day

A/N: this is my first time writing drabbles like this...and for writing for other characters, so go easy on me, I tried 🥲. I've also never written in this POV before 😵‍💫

Characters: Rafayel, Sylus, Zayne, Xavier (sorry no Caleb. I don't feel like I know enough about him yet)

Warnings: fluffy fluff, mentions of y/n being a strong independent woman, lads boys being super cute and nice ???

Rafayel: 

Y/n was never comfortable being vulnerable. Sharing feelings? Yeah right. It was scary. Every time she had, people looked the other way or downplayed her emotions. So she kept them to herself. She kept everything to herself, generally being a quiet person. Independent. She was a strong hunter. She cared for people and spent her days saving others from wanderers. Those at work saw her as a strong independent woman, who's emotions never got in the way. Eventually, y/n got tired of it and decided to change, though it was a work in progress. The changes led her to meeting her current boyfriend, Rafayel. Someone who supported her endlessly and she knew that. He was the only person she felt she could share her true feelings with, even if it was a struggle to do so. That was why when she had just about one of the worst days of her life, she found herself heading to his place. 

The day was awful. Her alarm didn't wake her up, so she was rushing to get to the association on time. She had skipped breakfast, not wanting to be late for an important mission. Despite that, her motorcycle has decided to break down on her way to the association. She let Jenna know while she waited for a truck to come pick up her motorcycle. Then she took a bus to the mission site. Of course, everyone was understanding, she couldn't help her motorcycle malfunctioning. But she was disappointed and frustrated with herself. The mission went well overall, but it was incredibly long. The sun was setting by the time it was done. On top of that, she was battered and bruised from fighting. Not to mention starving and a headache forming from the lack of food and water. She was exhausted. As she was heading out, she remembered her motorcycle and realized she had no way of getting home, other than the subway or bus. She had a small glimmer of hope, but it was crushed after calling the repair shop, as her motorcycle wouldn't be ready for another two days. By that time, everyone had already left. 

Despite wanting to cry, y/n didn't allow it. It didn't matter that she was hungry, tired, and in pain. She needed to hold it all in until she could get home. But home didn't sound nice. What sounded nice was curling up next to Rafayel. She knew all she had to do was tell him and he'd be right there. He's always there. But part of her told her not to bother him. He was at an important exhibit after all. Plus, what if he didn't react the way she thought. What if he became like everyone else and brushed her off? But no, Rafayel wouldn't do that to her. His place was easier to get to than her own apartment too, especially with her motorcycle in the shop. Too tired to care too much, she called a taxi to Rafayel's home. Of course, that couldn't go smoothly either, traffic getting in the way. 

When y/n arrived at Rafayel's house, the sun had set completely. She thanked the driver before shuffling to his front door, typing in the code to his house without thinking. As expected, it was quiet, no lights or anything on. She drug herself to the living room and flopped onto Rafayel's couch. She knew she should let Rafayel know she was there so he wouldn't panic about someone being in his house, but she had no energy. And then the tears began. Curled up into a ball on her boyfriend's couch, y/n fell asleep. 

Rafayel was bored. He always was at exhibitions, but Thomas insisted he had to go. On top of his boredom, he was also worried about y/n. He had texted her multiple times and she had responded. She was a busy, working woman, but she always answered him within a few hours. It had been radio silence. When the exhibit finally ended, or rather when Thomas got tired of his complaints, he got into his car and quickly drove straight home. He wanted to change before heading to y/n’s, which he was going to do. He needed to make sure she was okay. He knew she struggled to share how she really felt. He took the silence as she had either had a bad day, was simply very busy with her mission, or something had gone wrong in the mission. He assumed he would know by now if something has gone seriously wrong. Jenna or someone from the association would have contacted him. 

Rafayel had never parked his car so quickly, running into his house to change as quickly as he could. The suit he was wearing was too much. He stopped dead in his tracks when he noticed a figure on his couch. He hesitantly walked over to the figure, quickly realizing it was his girlfriend. Part of his heart warmed slightly. She had chosen to come to his place after the mission instead of going home. She wanted to seek comfort from him. That in itself was a large step for her. He squatted down to get a better look at her, and the warmth he felt was quickly replaced by concern. There was a lot of blood on her. Like a lot. A worrisome amount of blood. Breath quickening, he gently pushed her. “Y/n? Love?” He called, trying to wake her up. He sighed in relief as her eyes opened. “Raf?” She muttered. 

“Are you okay?” He asked her, already knowing the answer. He assumed most of the blood wasn't hers, as she was a skilled hunter. Plus she would have gone to a hospital if it was all hers. But he noticed her eyes slightly red and puffy, meaning she had been crying. He frowned when her lips formed a pout, beginning to shake. She shook her head and Rafayel immediately moved to sit onto the couch, lifting her legs to sit. Y/n moved as well, wanting, no, needing, to be closer to him. Rafayel easily accepted, wrapping his arms around her as she sat on his lap. Not once did he think or care about the fact his new suit would have blood on it. He just wanted to comfort y/n. She sobbed into his shoulder, unable to control the tears. It pained Rafayel to see her like this. He gently rubbed her back and whispered words of comfort. 

When she calmed down, Rafayel asked her again what had happened. “Just had a bad day,” she muttered into his neck. 

“Wanna elaborate? Must have been pretty bad to get you like this,” he gently pushed her. She sighed. 

“Woke up late and didn't eat so I could get to the association on time, but then my motorcycle broke down so I was late anyway. The mission was long and exhausting. So by the end of it I was tired, hungry, thirsty, in pain from fighting and from lack of food, and then I realized I had no way of getting home. So I came here. I'm sorry I didn't text you. I meant to, really. I just didn't want to worry you or bother you, I know the exhibit was important. Did it go okay?” She asked him, ever aware of how much she was divulging and wanting to care for him. Rafayel would not have it. 

“That sounds like a terrible day, you should have told me. I worried anyway when I didn't hear anything from you at all. I was going to head to your place straight after changing here. You wouldn't be bothering me. I want to know every little detail of your day, good or bad. You can rely on me, you know?” He asked, a bit hurt. 

“I know, I'm sorry,” she whispered. 

“You don't need to apologize to me, my love. I know it's scary to share how you feel. I'm proud that you even came here instead of just going home and pretending everything was fine. Have you eaten anything yet?” He asked her. She shook her head and Rafayel tsk-ed. “Let's take a bath first,” he decided, moving his hands to her thighs and lifting her while he stood. Her grip tightened around him and he giggled. “Don't worry, I won't drop you.” He carried her to his bathroom, setting her down on the sink countertop. He pressed a kiss to her forehead before smiling at her and turning to run the bath water. Once it was at a temperature he deemed worthy, he plopped in a bath bomb and bubbles. “Be right back my love. You need to drink some water too,” he told her before walking out of the bathroom. As soon as he was out of the bathroom, y/n saw him run out of the room at full speed into the kitchen, making her smile. He didn't want to be far from her for long. She caught a glimpse of him running back in, only slowing as he approached the door and handed her the water, instructing her to drink as he went and checked on the bath. “It's ready,” he announced, turning to help y/n down. He gave her a frown and playful glare when she moved to take her uniform off. She hesitantly stopped, making Rafayel smile and reach to begin taking it off of her. His smile was soon replaced by a focused glare, biting his lip in frustration as he struggled with some of the buckles. 

“Need some help?” Y/n chuckled. 

“Stupid ass buckles. Why do you even need so many?” He asked, crossing his arms in his chest as he pouted. Y/n shrugged before swiftly taking the belt and buckles off. “I got the rest,” he quickly stopped her from continuing. He easily, at least in comparison to the buckles, unbuttoned her shirt and bra, then moved to her pants. When she was bare, he picked her back up into his arms and carefully set her in the bath. She looked at him expectantly. “I'd never give up an opportunity to take a bath, especially with you,” he explained, undressing as quickly as he could. Y/n scooted forward, allowing Rafayel to sit behind her and wrap his arms around her. She relaxed into his hold, Rafayel sighing in content. 

The two didn't say anything for a while, just soaking in the warmth of the water and their bodies pressed together. Y/n, being a quiet person in general, didn't mind and loved that Rafayel didn't feel uncomfortable. Rafayel was also surprised at how comfortable he felt with her in silence. He knew she needed the quiet and at first it was uncomfortable to him. But he quickly learned to love these moments of quiet, instead focusing on the warmth of the woman in front of him. They stayed silent for so long that the water was beginning to go cold. Rafayel wordlessly moved to grab soap and a washcloth, gently moving to scrub his lovers back. He could feel how tense she was, practically massaging her as he moved across her back, occasionally leaving a kiss on her shoulder. She let out a sigh of content, the way he moved comforting her and making her relax further. “Turn,” Rafayel instructed her once he was done with her backside. 

“I got it,” y/n whispered back, embarrassed to let him even though he had seen everything. 

“I know you do. But I want to take care of you, please?” He gave her his best puppy eyes, something she couldn't refuse. She slowly turned, facing him, a blush growing on her face making Rafayel almost want to squeeze her from how cute she looked. But he stayed calm, returning to his job of washing her. “Your turn,” y/n smiled when he had washed her completely. He shook his head. 

“Nope. I'm taking care of you,” he argued. Y/n pouted. 

“That's not fair. What if taking care of me means letting me help you?” She countered. Rafayel sighed and handed her the washcloth before turning around. Y/n smiled and washed his back, letting him finish the job. Rafayel stepped out of the bath first, wrapping a robe around him before helping his lover out and wrapping her in a matching robe. He was about to say something when he heard the doorbell ring. “Ah, food's here. Stay right there I'll go grab it,” he smiled at her before running off again. She stood right where she was, knowing Rafayel would scold her if she moved a single muscle. “Alrighty, where were we?” He asked on his way in, reaching for the lotion y/n always used. 

“Raf, you don't have to-” 

“I want to. No funny business,” he paused. “I mean unless you want to of course. I'm always down to take care of you in other ways,” he waggled his eyebrows. 

“Not tonight,” she chuckled. “I'm already squeaky clean.” 

“Pfft, as if I couldn't clean you up after even more thoroughly,” he winked before putting some of the lotion in his hands and squatting down to put some on her legs. She laughed, moving a hand to ruffle his hair. Once again, as Rafayel applied the lotion he massaged her sore muscles, with the occasional kiss to her skin, making her even more tired. Afterwards, he applied her skincare to her face, repeating the steps on his own. “Let's go eat,” he instructed, grabbing y/n’s hand. 

“When did you even order food?” She asked curiously. 

“When I got you water I also placed an order at that restaurant you like,” he shrugged. 

“The expensive one?!” 

“It's not expensive to me,” he argued. 

“Rafayel! That place is super expensive, especially their delivery,” she lightly smacked his arm. 

“Ow!” He frowned, rubbing his arm as if she had just punched him so hard he'd bruise. “You had a hard day, just let me treat you.” Y/n couldn't argue with that, especially when she saw that he had ordered all of her favorite things from the restaurant. The two sat on the floor up against the couch, a movie playing as they ate. Y/n grew even more tired after eating, head bobbing until falling onto Rafayel's shoulder. He smiled before carefully moving to pause the movie before turning it off. “What’re you doing?” Y/n muttered, half asleep. 

“Let's go to bed,” he kissed the top of her head. He held her hand, guiding her to the closet in his room to change into something to sleep in, as they still wore their robes. Y/n was quick to steal one of Rafayel's tee shirts and a pair of his boxers, running out of the closet and into the bathroom to change before Rafayel could say anything. She had taken his favorite shirt to sleep in after all. Rafayel smiled and shook his head, realizing he was so helplessly in love with her. He sat on the edge of his bed, waiting for her. His breathing stopped when the bathroom door opened, revealing the woman. She looked stunning, the shirt a bit big and loose on her, falling off her shoulder. She cheekily smiled at him before jumping onto his bed and burying herself under his covers. Rafayel was still processing the sight of her; he didn't move until he felt her toes wiggling against his back. He smiled and grabbed her feet through the blanket, shaking them. She laughed with him and he moved to get under the blankets with her. She quickly moved to wrap herself around him. “Someone's nice and cuddly today,” he grinned at her, making her blush and hide her face in his chest. 

“-ts nice,” she mumbled, making Rafayel squeeze her. 

“It is nice. I'll hold you anytime and anywhere. For any reason. You're happy and want to cuddle? I'm down. Sad and want to cuddle? Definitely. Even if you're mad and want to cuddle. I'd never let you go,” Rafayel admitted. She nodded in his chest. “Thank you for being vulnerable with me today. I know it's not easy.” 

“Thank you for being you,” she countered. 

“I am pretty great,” he teased, making her chuckle, but nod. 

“You are,” she agreed. She moved her head to look into his eyes before pressing a kiss against his lips. Rafayel deepened the kiss quickly and it lasted much longer than y/n had meant to, just wanting to kiss him goodnight. But the way he kissed her with so much love had her craving more, his hand gently holding her cheek. She was surprised when he was the one to pull away first, leaving a kiss on her nose as he gave her a dopey smile. “I love you,” she whispered to him and his smile widened. 

“I love you too, forever and always. Good luck getting rid of me,” he answered. 

“Mmm that's okay with me. I don't want anyone else.” 

“Get some sleep okay? You need it,” he instructed. She nodded and tried to do as he said, but wasn't able to. 

“Raf?” 

“Yeah love?” 

“I can't fall asleep,” she sighed. 

“Want me to tell you a bedtime story? Or count sheep?” He asked. 

“What did you count in Lemuria?” She asked. 

“Hmmm. Whatever really. Coral, fish, sharks,” he listed off examples. 

“Pick one for me?” She bit her lip. Rafayel nodded and began to count. 

“One little fishy. Two little fishes. Three little fishes………” 

As he continued, y/n began to drift off to sleep, his voice comforting her. She relaxed into his hold, falling into a deeper sleep. 

“Are you asleep?” Rafayel whispered after counting a lot of little fishes. “Guess so,” he smiled to himself, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Sweet dreams, my dear mermaid bride.” 

Sylus: 

Y/n was strong and she knew it. It was this feeling of strength and independence that made her struggle to rely on anyone, even for the smallest things. Meeting Sylus was the greatest day of her life….sort of. The day itself was interesting to say the least, but regardless, she was happy to be with him. He supported her wordlessly, admiring her abilities and strength. It was partly what drew him in. She didn't need to rely on Sylus, but that didn't mean Sylus didn't want her to not rely on him. He knew she was strong, but he knew that at times it was just a face. Sometimes she hurt and didn't show it. Sylus wished she would, but never brought it up in conversation. Y/n felt the same. Sometimes she just wanted a hug, but asking for it from her literal boyfriend felt too hard. 

Today broke her facade, a two day almost non stop mission breaking her. She was the tiredest she had ever felt in her life, physically and emotionally. She just wanted to curl up in a ball and let darkness take her away. A bit dramatic maybe, but she'd never say it out loud. Smiling and going to celebrate with her coworkers after the mission, despite how exhausted she was. Not to mention, around ten hunters all battered, bruised and bloody were just casually out having a drink…As soon as they had left the pub, she could feel her body slump. Y/n didn't want to go back to the quiet comfort of her apartment where she would have to cook her own food, bathe, and tend to her wounds. It was one of the rare occasions she wanted to be taken care of. Normally, she would push that feeling down and do everything alone. Today she decided to risk it and head over to the N109 zone. 

Parking her motorcycle near Sylus's base, or home, y/n removed her helmet and knocked on the door. There wasn't an answer, which wasn't abnormal. She hadn't even talked to Sylus in days, he could have something to do. Y/n dug into her bag and found the spare key at the very bottom, having to take everything out to find it. She begrudgingly threw everything back into her bag and entered. As she guessed, no one seemed to be home. She hadn't seen Mephisto today either, though she suspected he was keeping tabs on her. Which meant Sylus would know she came to his base and would come back as soon as he could. Y/n shuffled to his couch, not wanting to lift a finger. Flopping onto the couch, she let her mind wander and her eyes close. 

Sylus received word of Y/n’s arrival at his base not too long after she arrived, thanks to Mephisto. He wrapped up his meeting early, leaving Luke and Kieran to finish it so he could go check on his girlfriend. It was rare she went to his base without telling him. In fact he was pretty sure it had never happened. He knew she wasn't seriously injured or anything, but it was the first time she had decided to go to him instead of dealing with everything alone. That thought is what made him speed over to his base, not needing to worry about speed limits in the N109 zone. 

Sylus was a bit surprised to find his girlfriend sleeping on his couch. He expected she would be doing something as she usually is. She's not much of a napper, preferring to get things done right then. He took in her appearance, frowning slightly at the blood covering her. He walked to his bathroom, grabbing a washcloth and wetting it before returning. Sylus sat on the floor, gently cleaning the blood off of the skin he could see, checking for any injuries. Though he was careful, y/n woke up, eyes blinking in confusion. “Sylus?” She asked. 

“I'm here. How was the mission?” He asked, continuing to wash her. 

“Fine,” she replied, making Sylus's eye twitch. 

“Just fine? We both know that's not true. You're here, sleeping and covered in blood,” he pointed out. She nodded and bit her lip. 

“Yeah,” she sighed. “It went fine in the sense that it's done and taken care of. I'm pretty tired though.” 

“Mm, and you came here sweetie?” Sylus pushed gently. 

“I, uh,” she began, years welling up in her eyes. How could she tell him? How would he react? “You can tell me sweetheart,” Sylus paused, setting the washcloth to the side and giving her his full attention. 

“I didn't want to take care of myself. I wanted you…to take care of me,” she finally spoke, voice drifting off at the end so soft Sylus barely caught what she said. He smiled softly and brought a hand to her cheek, wiping away a stray tear. He didn't like seeing her cry. Especially over something so small. Had he done something to make her feel embarrassed about this? “I will happily take care of you. Whenever you want. Even if you just had a bad coffee in the morning, I'll comfort you. You're so strong, y/n, but that doesn't mean you have to take care of everything alone,” he reminded her, making her cry more. “Come here,” he softly spoke, reaching for her hands and pulling her into his lap. Y/n tried to keep it cool, but wasn't successful. Sylus held her with so much love and care she couldn't hold back her tears. Sylus said nothing, just letting her cry in his arms as he comforted her. She seemed so small and fragile to him at that moment. Y/n could only think of the opposite, how warm and comforting he was.

Eventually, she calmed down. “Do you want to shower or take a bath?” Sylus asked her, petting her hair. 

“Bath. Don't wanna stand,” y/n mumbled. He chuckled. 

“Understood. Do you want me to assist you or cook you something to eat?” 

“Cook,” she immediately answered, starving. He nodded. 

“I'll go run a bath for you. Afterwards I can tend to your wounds and we can eat. Sound good?” Sylus asked. She nodded and reluctantly got out of his hold, walking hand in hand to his bathroom. Sylus began the water for the bath, moving to a cabinet and asking what she preferred to have in the bath. It warmed y/n’s heart to see how oddly prepared he was. He had an assortment of bath bombs, salts, washes, lotions, oils and more at the ready. A silent way of showing that he cared for her. Once ready, she got into the bath and Sylus left her. He returned a moment later with clothes in his hands for her. He smiled at her before setting them in the counter and leaving. 

In the kitchen, Sylus had put on some music and began to cook his girlfriend's favorite meal. He hummed along, smiling to himself as he chopped the vegetables. He knew she didn't like vegetables, but always managed to sneak them in without her knowing. She deserved the best food after all. As he was putting the dish in the oven, he heard y/n enter. He turned to see her smiling softly to herself and he reciprocated without realizing. “Feeling better sweetie?” He asked. She nodded. “Let's get those wounds taken care of.” They headed back into the living room, y/n sitting on the couch while Sylus grabbed supplies. He was through, making sure to disinfect and bandage all the cuts on her, being gentle. She knew he was being gentle, as she had witnessed how he bandaged Luke and Kieran, the two regretting that decision. “Want me to do your hair?” He asked when he was done, hands resting on her thighs. He had noticed she had washed it, but done nothing with it. She was very particular with her hair, wanting to make sure her curls were well taken care of. “Can you?” She asked with hopeful eyes. 

“Of course. Do you want me to style it like you would and diffuse it or braids?” He asked. 

“You can braid?” Her eyes narrowed, not believing the head of Onychinus could braid hair. 

“Of course,” he chuckled. 

“Why would you learn to braid hair?” She asked, baffled. He shrugged smugly. 

“Just in case my girlfriend asked me to braid her hair,” he answered. He had noticed in days she didn't want to do her entire hair routine, she put it into two braids, not dealing with it. “I'll go get a comb and hair ties,” he stood up and left, leaving y/n a bit speechless. When he returned he stood to the back of the couch, taking her hair in his hands. She felt him brush through it, ridding of anything tangles, before parting it and braiding. Y/n couldn't see the braid, but it felt like he was actually pretty solid at braiding it. He had finished just in time, the timer for the food going off as he was wrapping a hair tie around the last braid. “There. Wanna go check my masterpiece?” He teased. Y/n ran a hand over the braids, impressed. 

“Duh,” she scoffed. “Need to make sure they're good.” Sylus laughed and left to get the food, while y/n left to check her hair. “Thoughts?” He asked, plating the food when she walked in. 

“I'm thoroughly impressed,” she admitted, deciding to be brave and walk over to him, wrapping her arms around him and pressing her face into his back. “Thank you.” Sylus froze for a moment, not expecting her to show any affection as usually he was the one initiating any, but quickly relaxed, pressing his hands against hers. “Anything for you,” he whispered to her. Y/n whined in response, squeezing him as hard as she could. “Going to need more strength to kill me sweetie,” Sylus teased, tapping her hands as a way to tell her to chill. She didn't, continuing to squeeze him, even more than before. “Sweetie, I love you, but you are going to kill me,” Sylus breathed out. Y/n laughed and let go, moving to his side and standing on her tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek. She grinned when a slight blush grew in his face and quickly moved to sit at the table. Sylus took a moment to recover, then joined her with the plates. 

The two chatted while they ate, talking about their recent adventures and teasing each other. When they were finished, y/n attempted to do the dishes, but Sylus quickly took them from her and put them in the sink. “Don't worry about it,” he instructed. 

“They'll get all gross and stinky Sy,” she argued. 

“And that's for me to worry about some other time,” he countered, sliding his hand into hers and pulling her to his bedroom. They laid in bed, Sylus refusing to change just yet with the excuse that he was comfortable enough with her in his arms. 

“Sy?” Y/n broke the comfortable silence. Sylus hummed. “Are you sure you don't mind taking care of me?” 

“Of course sweetie,” he immediately answered, brows furrowed. “Have I done something to make you feel like it's a bother to take care of you?” 

“No, not at all!” She quickly answered. “It's just– I don't know. I've never had someone care about me enough to want to care for me. I know I'm strong and a great hunter and independent, but I don't always want to be. I just don't know how to say that.” 

“You're the strongest person I know, who I love dearly. Wanting to be cared for doesn't make you weak or any less independent. I want to take care of my strong miss hunter. I want to be there for you when you don't feel 100%. All you have to do is ask. You don't even have to ask. Hell, I would never say no to any sort of affection from you,” he chuckled lightly. “You can be who you are around me. Strong or weak. Happy or sad. You don't have to fake it with me because I love you.” Y/n felt a blush creep up her cheeks. 

“I love you too. And thank you for saying that. I'll try to be more open, just be patient with me?” She muttered. 

“I could wait centuries for you,” he told her, guiding her lips to his and kissing her. He deepened the kiss, wanting to feel her even closer to him. Y/n felt like she couldn't breathe, but didn't want to break the kiss. She whined when Sylus did, making him smirk. “How about I show you just how much I wanna take care of my strong girl?” His eyes darkened as he moved to hold himself on top of her, pressing another kiss to her lips before moving lower and lower, slowly moving her shorts down with him…. 

Zayne: 

Zayne was the only person y/n was able to lower her guard with, he also happened to be her boyfriend. Growing up with him near meant he had been there through ups and downs. So while she struggled to let her guard down with most people, Zayne was not one of them. Besides, her guard needed to be up as a hunter. So when she got done with a half week long mission outside of Linkon, she headed straight for Zayne’s apartment instead of her own. 

They had kept in touch as much as they could while y/n was gone from Linkon, but she didn't bother to tell him she was headed straight for his place after. She missed him and was exhausted from the mission. Upon entering his apartment, she realized she didn't even check his schedule, the apartment being empty. He'd return eventually though, she thought as she curled up into his bed, breathing in the comforting scent. 

Zayne was nervous when his apartment door opened without him typing in the code to get in. The nerves eased up on remembering y/n was the only person who had access. As his eyes searched his apartment, he unbuttoned the top of his shirt, the dress shirt growing uncomfortable after wearing it all day. His stomach dropped when he entered his bedroom and found his girlfriend laying on his bed, covered in blood and dirt. He rushed over and immediately pressed some fingers to her throat, checking her pulse. He sighed in relief when he felt the familiar thumps. Of course she would be okay, she was a skilled hunter. A skilled hunter who ignores her health conditions and lies about being hurt to him. So he began to examine her, ensuring there was nothing major. “Zayne, are you examining me?” Y/n peeked an eye open as he was searching her other arm. 

“I need to make sure you're alright,” he responded.

“I'm fine babe,” she sat up and stretched. 

“You always say that. Last time you were ‘just fine’,” he narrowed his eyes and made quotes with his fingers. “You needed stitches in two separate spots.” 

“Fair point. Fine look,” she gave in, spreading out her arms so he could take a good look. And he did, making sure to check every part he could. He nodded in content. “Nothing major,” he noted. Y/n nodded, a smile on her face. “How was the mission?” 

“Ugh,” she sighed. “It went fine, just a lot of long nights in a row. And a good amount of fighting. I'm exhausted.” 

“When do you work again?” 

“Two days from now,” she answered almost as a question. Zayne narrowed his eyes on her. “Fine okay, tomorrow,” she admitted. Zayne sighed. 

“Take a day off to rest princess,” he frowned slightly. She looked at him with a pleading look. “Doctor's orders,” he raised his brow, making her sigh in defeat. 

“Fine. I'll call in tomorrow.” 

“Good. Let's get cleaned up,” he decided, easily lifting the girl into his arms and carrying her to the nearby bathroom. Wordlessly, or more like with a raised brow when y/n went to undress, he moved to get her out of her uniform, before undressing himself and stepping into the shower. Although he believed she was insane for the amount of heat required in her showers, he turned the knob to be as hot as possible before reaching a hand out, inviting her in. He watched as she visibly relaxed from the heat, a soft smile on his face. While she stood and appreciated the feeling of the water in her skin, Zayne grabbed the nearby soap and began washing her back. When finished, he placed his hands on her hips and turned her towards him, continuing his new job. “Okay you're turn baby,” y/n sang, grabbing the soap from him. 

“If you insist,” he sighed, not having the energy himself to argue. She repeated the same gentleness in her boyfriend, making sure to wash him completely. When they were both free of sweat, dirt, and blood, they stepped out of the shower and grabbed some towels. Y/n left the bathroom first, heading to Zayne’s closet, but was stopped when a hand grabbed hers. She turned to look at Zayne confused. “Go lay on the bed,” he nodded towards his bed. “I'll give you a massage.” Her eyes lit up at the offer and quickly shuffled to lay face down on his bed. 

Zayne followed, grabbing the massage oils he had used on her before, not wanting her muscles to be tense. He hadn't bothered to dress himself, towel wrapped around his waist. He chuckled when he saw the towel still firmly wrapped around his girlfriend. “It'll be hard with this in the way, princess,” he commented, tugging the towel. 

“You mean you'll be hard with it off?” Y/n turned her head to the side and teased him. He just sighed in response. 

“I can control myself, thank you. How will I massage your back if it's covered?” He questioned. She shrugged before giggling and pushing herself up to undo the towel, letting it fall to the side before laying back down. Zayne was a bit startled, as usually she'd keep her waist down covered when he massaged her, not that it was that often. But he regained his composure quickly, rubbing the oil between his hands and beginning the massage. He hadn't mentioned it to her, but he took notice of how tight her muscles tended to be, which made sense because of her job. So he had taken a massage class at the hospital that they offered she could get massages anytime. They'd be free and of course due to the class, they'd also be good. He was meticulous with it, as he is when performing surgeries, making sure to get rid of every knot and tight spot. 

To y/n, the massages from him were like no other. Going to a regular massage was nice, but having someone you love and care for massage you was incredible. She could feel how much he cared for her in the improvements he seemed to be making with the massages. She was almost falling asleep from how relaxed she felt. He had even messaged her legs and arms today, leaving her feeling like jelly. When he was finished she didn't even want to move, so she didn't. He had placed a blanket over top of her, so she wouldn't get cold as well. She heard him walking and rustling, putting some clothes on and such, but didn't move. It wasn't until she felt the bed dip that she moved to look. Zayne was sitting against his headboard next to her phone in hand. She watched him for a while until he set his phone down and met her gaze. “Whatcha doing?” She asked him. 

“Ordering dinner. It should be here quick. You wanna put some clothes on?” He asked. 

“You don't wanna see me like this,” she gave him a teasing pout, making him chuckle. 

“Of course I do. All the time,” he admitted. “I'm perfectly happy with you just like that, as long as I'm the one answering the door to get the food so no one else sees what's mine, princess.” Y/n’s face flushed slightly, not expecting such a serious answer, though this was her boyfriend. She wordlessly got up and went to his closet, finding some of his clothes to sleep in. Once dressed she flopped back onto Zayne's bed, the two saying nothing. Their silence was interrupted by the bell ringing, Zayne immediately getting up to get the food. Y/n sat up legs criss crossed patiently waiting. “Food is here princess,” Zayne called for her. After not getting a response, he entered his bedroom. Y/n gave him her best puppy eyes and he sighed. “If you spill on my bed,” he threatened. 

“That was one time! I'll be careful, I promise,” she begged. He didn't answer, instead leaving and returning with the bag of food. He got the boxes out, handing one to her. When she went to open it and dive in, Zayne stopped her. He wrapped his fingers around the fork she held and took it from her, loading the fork. She furrowed her brows. “What are you doing babe? I can feed myself you know,” she questioned. 

“Not without making a mess,” he teased, earning a slap from the woman. “I know you're perfectly capable, but I want to. You're exhausted and I don't want you to have to lift a finger. You're my princess after all, no?” 

“Fine,” y/n sighed. Zayne guided the fork to her mouth and she opened, though a bit embarrassed to be spoon fed by her boyfriend. Eventually, it wasn't so embarrassing and kind of nice to not even have to move to eat. When she finished her food, Zayne dug into his. 

When they were both finished, Zayne threw away the boxes before joining his girlfriend in bed. She was quick to snuggle up against him, seeking warmth. He obviously wrapped his arms around her, keeping her close. “Thank you for today. I know you're also probably tired from work, so I appreciate you caring for me still,” y/n thanked him. 

“Of course princess. You do the same for me. Always making sure I eat and sleep at a reasonable time. I want to be able to take care of you too,” he answered, moving to kiss her. 

“You're getting a little too good at massages.” 

“How so?” 

“I'm gonna fall asleep right now. I can barely keep my eyes open from how relaxed I feel.” He chuckled in response. 

“Good thing it's time to fall asleep then. Goodnight princess. Have the sweetest dreams. I love you.” 

“I love you too,” he heard her mumble before fully relaxing into him. He smiled when a moment later he heard her soft snores, joining her in Dreamland not too long after. 

Xavier: 

Xavier and y/n had just finished a grueling three day mission together. Everything had gone wrong, more and more wanderers showing up. They had pretty much fought non stop for three days. When attempting to get rest when there weren't any wanderers, the person on guard, Xavier, spotted more coming. Y/n hadn't even fallen asleep. Eventually, backup was called to help finish the job. Even still, the two were exhausted, barely moving. Unfortunately, the desire to eat was even stronger than that of sleeping. “Hot pot?” Y/n asked the man, walking next to him. He nodded in response and the two wordlessly walked to the hot pot place they always went to. 

At first, the two ate in complete silence, not even having the energy to do anything but eat. They were surrounded by people at other tables, talking and laughing, while they sat silently. The ambiance almost made Xavier fall asleep, his girlfriend lightly kicking his foot under the table to wake him. The food began coming and they ate, almost leaving the meat in too long from their exhaustion. After each eating around four servings of just meat, they regained some energy. “Do you ever regret becoming a hunter?” Y/n suddenly asked. 

“Mmm,” Xavier thought. “No.” 

“Really? Even after missions like that where you can barely walk home?” 

“Yeah. I want to help people, even if that means being exhausted. Plus I'll just take a few days off and sleep,” he shrugged. She shook her head. 

“That sounds like something you'd say you sleepy head,” she smiled. 

“Yeah. Even better though if I have you next to me,” he admitted, throwing her off. She said nothing, instead busying herself with the plate of vegetables that arrived. She couldn't deny it was much nicer to sleep next to him than alone. When they finished their food, they walked hand in hand to their apartment complex. “Wanna stay at mine tonight?” Xavier suddenly asked. 

“What do you have planned?” Y/n asked curiously. 

“To sleep, obviously.” 

“Only if I can sleep next to you and we wash up first. We shouldn't sleep covered in blood and dirt,” she chuckled. 

“Do we have to? Wouldn't it be so much nicer to just get into bed as soon as possible?” 

“We do lovey. Imagine how much nicer it'll be when we're cleaned and in something more comfortable. I don't want to either. I’d much rather just crash. I could sleep right here if I wanted to.” 

“Please don't. It's not safe.” 

“Exactly. So we should wash up first thing,” she smiled at him. 

“Fine,” he agreed. When the two of them got to Xavier's apartment, y/n dragged him straight to his bathroom, starting the shower. Once in the shower, they just stood and appreciated the water. Xavier wrapped his arms around his lover and rested his head on her shoulder, pressing a kiss to her cheek first. He almost fell asleep like that, but she moved first, grabbing the soap and moving to scrub his back. He did the same for her before they wordlessly stepped out and put clothes on. Xavier was impatient as he watched her do her skincare, tugging on her arm and hugging her. “Almost done lovey,” she muttered, making him sigh. Xavier was always a little bit more needy when he was this tired, a bit of a change for them. Y/n was usually the more needy one, being affectionate with him as much as she could. She couldn't help it though. He was her first love. She was tired of having to be strong and independent. Xavier was happy to be there and support her. He was also happy when he was like this. 

Once her skincare was finally complete, she shuffled to the bed, Xavier still wrapped around her and refusing to let go. They made their way under the blankets, Xavier spooning his lover. She relaxed into his hold, laying her hands on his. Y/n was surprised when Xavier spoke up, assuming he had already fallen asleep. “Thank you for today. You're an incredible partner inside and out of work,” he whispered. 

“I could say the same for you. You pretty much saved my life yesterday when I was cornered.” 

“As if I could watch you get hurt. You're my starlight.” 

“Mhm,” she chuckled quietly. 

“Sleep well. I love you my starlight,” he whispered before pressing a kiss to the top of her head. 

“I love you too Xavie,” she whispered back, the short confession lulling the man to sleep. She followed soon after, no longer able to stay awake. 

[rafesgreasycurtainbangs]

I saw someone post this on reddit as an issue: '' Whenever I was with him I just felt like it was all a big joke. I genuinely couldn’t fathom the idea that he found me attractive enough to date me. It didn’t feel real and it terrified me, I would look at myself before I went to go see him and think to myself “how could he possibly even find me attractive” '' and then she broke up with him because she couldn't handle comparing herself to other girls. So...maybe Reader is going through this and does not get why Rafe would ever be with her when REALLY pretty barbie bombshell girls are out there that he's exposed to on Figure 8. So she slowly pushes him away, distance herself, takes long etc until she breaks up with him. He GIVES IT HIS all to pursade her from leaving him but she walks out on him crying. But you know....happy end and they find their way back to each other

always yours - rafe cameron x pogue!reader

⊹ ‧₊˚ ౨ৎ content: reader has self esteem issues, angst, insecurities, fluff ending

⊹ ‧₊˚ ౨ৎ yap: thank you for this request xx

⊹ ‧₊˚ ౨ৎ word count: 920

You’d never been able to shake that gnawing pit in your stomach—the one that whispered Rafe Cameron being with you didn’t add up. He was Figure 8 royalty: chiseled jaw, broad shoulders, the kind of guy who belonged on a yacht with sun-kissed Barbie dolls dripping in gold, not in your cramped Pogue trailer with its peeling paint and leaky faucet. You’d catch yourself in the mirror before he came over—hair a mess, skin flawed, clothes cheap—and wonder what the hell he saw in you. Those bombshell girls on his side of the island, with their glossy lips and perfect curves, made you feel like a punchline. Every time he touched you, kissed you, called you “baby,” it felt like a prank you weren’t in on. The doubt festered, growing into a quiet terror that he couldn’t possibly mean it—not when he had them as options.

It started small. You’d take longer to text back, let his calls ring out, make excuses about work or your dad needing you. He’d show up anyway, all intense eyes and easy grins, and you’d sit there, arms crossed, feeling like a fraud next to him. “You okay?” he’d ask, voice low, and you’d nod, forcing a smile, but inside you were spiraling. Comparing yourself to every tanned, leggy girl you’d seen him nod at on the Cut, imagining him waking up one day and realizing he could do better. The distance grew—days between seeing him stretched into weeks. You stopped letting him hold you, stopped laughing at his dumb jokes, building walls he couldn’t climb. He noticed, of course he did—Rafe wasn’t stupid—but you brushed it off, muttering, “I’m just tired,” until it wasn’t a lie anymore.

The breaking point came on a humid night, the air thick with salt and regret. He’d cornered you in your kitchen after you’d dodged him for days, his hands gripping the counter as he stared you down. “What’s going on with you?” he demanded, voice rough. “You’re shutting me out, and I don’t get it.”

You swallowed, heart pounding, the words clawing their way out. “I can’t do this anymore, Rafe. Us—it doesn’t make sense. You don’t belong with someone like me.” Your voice cracked, but you pushed on. “You’ve got all those girls on Figure 8—perfect, gorgeous girls—and I’m just… me. I don’t know why you’re even here.”

His face twisted, disbelief turning to desperation. “Are you serious? You think I’m just—what, fucking around ‘til something better comes along?” He stepped closer, hands reaching for you, but you backed away. “I’m here because I want you. I don’t give a shit about those girls—they’re not you, they’ll never be you.”

Tears stung your eyes as you shook your head. “You say that now, but you’ll see it eventually. I’m not enough. I’ve never been enough.” Your chest heaved, the self-loathing you’d buried spilling out. “I can’t keep waiting for you to figure that out.”

“No—don’t do this,” he pleaded, voice breaking as he grabbed your wrists, pulling you toward him. “I love you, alright? I fucking love you, and I’m not going anywhere. You’re enough—more than enough. You’re everything.” His grip tightened, eyes wild, like he could physically hold you together. “Tell me what to do, baby. Tell me how to prove it.”

But it was too much—his words, his touch, the hope in his voice you couldn’t let yourself trust. You wrenched free, sobbing, “I can’t,” and stumbled to the door, grabbing your keys. He followed, begging, “Please, don’t walk out—don’t leave me like this,” but you couldn’t look back. You ran into the night, tears streaming, the sound of his voice cracking on your name echoing in your head as you drove off, leaving him standing there, broken.

Weeks bled into months. You avoided the Wreck, the docks, anywhere he might show up. Your days were gray, hollow, the ache of missing him warring with the certainty you’d done the right thing. But Rafe didn’t fade. He left voicemails you deleted without listening, sent texts you couldn’t bear to read, even slipped notes under your door—“You’re wrong about me. I’m still here.” Your dad grumbled about “that damn Cameron kid” lurking around, and JJ told you he’d seen Rafe looking like a ghost, hollow-eyed and quiet. It hurt to know he was hurting, but you told yourself he’d move on, find someone who fit his world.

Then one night, a storm rolled in, rain hammering your roof, and a knock shook your door. You opened it, and there he was—drenched, hair plastered to his forehead, eyes red-rimmed but burning. “I can’t do this without you,” he said, voice raw. “I tried—I fucking tried to let you go, but I can’t. You’re not a joke, you’re not less than anyone. You’re mine, and I don’t care how long it takes—I’ll keep proving it ‘til you believe me.”

You stood there, soaked in the rain spilling through the open door, tears mixing with the wet on your face. “Rafe, I’m scared,” you whispered, the truth finally free. “I don’t know how to be enough for you.”

He stepped in, closing the distance, hands cupping your face like you might break. “You don’t have to be anything but you. I see you—every part of you—and I’m not running. I’m not those girls, I’m not my family. I’m yours.” His lips crashed into yours, desperate and sure, and for once, you let yourself fall—into him, into the messy, real thing you’d been too afraid to want.

taglist: @littlelamy @drewstarkeyswife0 @icaqttt

[vampiriito]

«Lucky charm »

″she's got the oceans tucked away in her hair, poems swim under her skin.‶

synopsis: after getting saved by a mysterious figure during the hurricane, JJ finds himself falling more in love with the ocean than before.

pairing: JJ x sea nymph! (mermaid) reader

The sky over the Outer Banks was a canvas of swirling grays and purples, a stark contrast to the usual clear blues. The air was thick, heavy with the promise of the storm to come. Hurricane Agatha loomed on the horizon, its foreboding presence sending an eerie calm over the shoreline. The waves, already agitated, rolled in with increasing ferocity, foaming as they crashed against the sandy beach. Seagulls circled above, their cries lost in the rising wind.

JJ Maybank stood at the edge of the water, surfboard tucked under his arm, his gaze fixed on the tumultuous sea. His heart raced, not with fear, but with the exhilarating anticipation that always came before a wild ride. The stormy weather promised the kind of waves that only the most daring surfers would attempt, and JJ was never one to back down from a challenge.

Behind him, his best friend John B approached, his brow furrowed with concern. "JJ, are you seriously thinking about going out there?" he called out, his voice barely audible over the rising wind.

JJ turned, a roguish grin spreading across his face. "Hell yeah, man. These are the kind of waves you dream about. Gotta take the chance when it comes."

John B shook his head, a mixture of admiration and worry in his eyes. "You're crazy, you know that? Agatha's no joke. This storm could get real bad."

"That's what makes it worth it," JJ replied, his eyes gleaming with the thrill of the impending adventure. "Besides, you know I can't resist a good challenge."

John B sighed, glancing at the darkening sky. "Just promise me you'll be careful out there. If you get into trouble—"

"I'll be fine," JJ interrupted, slapping his friend on the back. "You worry too much. I'll be back before you know it, with the best ride of my life under my belt."

With that, JJ waded into the churning surf, the cold water lapping at his ankles as he paddled out. The sea was a beast, its power palpable even before the full fury of the hurricane hit. Each stroke brought him closer to the waves that roared like mythical creatures, calling to the daredevil within him.

As he positioned himself for the first big wave, JJ's thoughts were solely on the ride. But the ocean had other plans. A sudden swell caught him off guard, tossing him from his board and pulling him under. The water enveloped him, a chaotic swirl of currents and foam. Panic set in as he struggled to find the surface, his lungs burning for air.

Just as he thought he was done for, he felt hands—strong and steady—pushing him upwards. Gasping for breath, he broke through the surface, the world coming back into focus in a blur of saltwater and sunlight before his vision focused back on the grey clouds. He coughed, spitting out seawater, and caught a fleeting glimpse of something—or someone—diving back into the depths.

For a moment, he treaded water, his mind racing. Had he imagined it? Was it the ocean playing tricks on him? But there was no denying the touch he had felt, the unmistakable feeling of being saved.

Breathing heavily, JJ paddled back to shore, the encounter leaving him both exhilarated and mystified. As he stumbled onto the sand, John B rushed to his side, relief evident on his face. "What happened out there?" John B asked, his eyes wide with concern.

JJ shook his head, still trying to process the experience. "I don't know, man. Something—or someone—pulled me up. It felt... different."

John B frowned, glancing at the roiling sea. "Maybe it was just a lucky current. Or maybe you've got a guardian angel looking out for you."

JJ managed a shaky laugh, though his mind was far from settled. "Yeah, maybe. Whatever it was, I owe it one."

As the first drops of rain began to fall, signaling the true onset of Hurricane Agatha, JJ couldn't shake the feeling that this storm had brought more than just wild waves. It had brought a mystery—one he was determined to uncover.

The rain poured down in sheets, drenching the already soggy island in a curtain of gray. Hurricane Agatha was in full force, its wrath evident in the howling wind and relentless downpour. The air hung heavy with the scent of salt and seaweed, the usual sunny and airy atmosphere replaced with a damp, oppressive air.

Under the pounding rain and howling wind, JJ gathered his soaked belongings, the saltwater seeping through his clothes and into his skin. There was something about this storm that set it apart from the others he had braved before. Maybe it was the way the air tasted, like ozone and electricity. Maybe it was the way the lightning danced across the sky, illuminating the churning clouds like strobe lights. Or maybe it was the weight of the unknown, the knowledge that somethingor someonewas out there.

JJ had always liked the ocean. It was the place he felt the most alive in. Whether it was lounging on the HMS pogue, or swimming on a beach day, JJ was always on the water. He felt like he conquered the waters when he was out surfing. After today, though.. He wasn't so sure.

John B, equally drenched but equally undeterred, stepped up beside him, their eyes both fixed on the horizon "..You really think there was someone out there—with you, i mean?" asked the brunette, casting JJ a skeptical side-glance while he gathered the rest of his soaked belongings.

JJ's fingers curled tighter around his board, the rain running rivulets down his face, mixing with the saltwater from the ocean. He shook his head, his wet hair sticking to his forehead in tangled strands. "Don't know, man. But it definitely felt like something. Someone."

John B raised an eyebrow, his usual good-natured skepticism returning. "Could've just been a current. Or maybe it was the ocean's way of saving your ass from getting drowned. Like in Moana.." John B snorted momentarily, clearly teasing JJ.

JJ shot a glare at John B, his dark eyes narrowing in irritation. He was not in the mood for jokes, not when the mystery of the unseen savior was weighing heavily on his mind. "Yeah, real funny, B. It was a person . I know what I felt."

His gaze returned to the raging ocean, the waves still choppy and white-tipped from the howling storm. The air seemed to crackle with an unseen energy, causing goosebumps to rise on JJ's already chilled skin.

JJ's eyes narrowed, a small frown pulling at the corner of his lips. "When I was pulled up, it was like there was force, a hand pushing me up. And then, I could've sworn I saw something under the water. Maybe a person. Or something else."

John B let out a sigh, running a hand through his wet hair. "JJ, we've been through a lot, but this is a bit much. Mermaids, really?"

JJ rolled his eyes, his usual flippant demeanor tinged with frustrated irritation. He hated being doubted, especially when he knew what he had experienced. "I'm not saying it was a damn mermaid, B. But something saved me. I don't know what it was, but it was there."

He jabbed a finger towards the churning waves, his jaw set defiantly. "I saw something! It wasn't just the water messing with me."

John B fell silent, absorbing the gravity in JJ's tone. He may not have believed entirely, but he knew his best friend well enough to recognize when JJ was serious. The usual glint of mischief was absent from his eyes, replaced by a mix of bewilderment and something akin to fear.

"Okay, say there was something out there," John B began cautiously, his voice barely audible over the rising wind. "What do you think it was? You're not seriously thinking it was a human being, are you?"

JJ huffed, his gaze locked on the churning horizon. The sea roared back at him, waves crashing violently against the shore as if challenging his stare. The sky continued to darken, heavy storm clouds swollen with impending rain looming ominously over the two teens. Despite the first icy droplets pelting their skin, neither made a move to leave the beach. The air was electric, charged not just with the approaching hurricane but with the tension between uncertainty and belief.

"I don't know!" JJ's voice rose to a shout, battling the howling wind. His blond hair whipped around his face, rain mingling with the saltwater still clinging to his skin. "But it wasn't just a current. I felt a hand, JB! Someone pulled me up from under the water and made damn sure I was okay!"

John B studied him closely, noticing the uncharacteristic urgency in JJ's eyes. This wasn't one of his wild tales or exaggerated exploits. There was a sincerity that made John B's skepticism waver.

"A hand?" he echoed, eyebrows knitting together. "In the middle of a brewing hurricane? Who the hell would be out there?"

JJ threw his arms up in exasperation. "That's what I'm trying to figure out! It doesn't make any sense." He glanced back at the tumultuous ocean, frustration etched into his features. "One minute I'm going under, getting tossed around like a rag doll, and the next, I'm being pushed to the surface like it's nothing."

The rain intensified, sheets of water cascading from the heavens, blurring the lines between sky and sea. Thunder rumbled in the distance, a low growl that sent a shiver down their spines. Still, they stood their ground, drenched and chilled, anchored by the weight of the unexplained.

John B hesitated before speaking, choosing his words carefully. "Look, man, maybe it was debris, or... I don't know, maybe you got caught in a rip current that pushed you up."

JJ shot him a sharp look, shaking his head. "Rip currents don't grab you, JB. They don't propel you upward just when you're about to black out." His voice dropped, barely audible over the storm. "I saw something—someone—right before I broke the surface. Just for a second."

John B sighed, running a hand through his soaked hair. "Even if there was someone, they'd have to be crazy to be out there in this weather."

"Or not human," JJ muttered under his breath, almost too low for John B to catch.

He raised an eyebrow. "What did you say?"

JJ hesitated, uncertainty flickering across his face. "Nothing. It's just... It felt different, you know? Like... I can't explain it."

Lightning sliced across the sky, illuminating the fierce waves in a stark, white light. For a brief moment, both boys stared out at the relentless ocean, its surface a chaotic expanse of frothy peaks and dark troughs. The power of Hurricane Agatha was undeniable now, the storm asserting its dominance over land and sea alike.

John B placed a firm hand on JJ's shoulder. "Look, whatever happened out there, we can figure it out later. Right now, we need to get out of here before this storm really unleashes."

JJ nodded reluctantly, casting one last, searching glance toward the turbulent waters. A part of him yearned to dive back in, to confront the mystery head-on. But the rational part knew John B was right. "Yeah, let's go," he conceded, his voice subdued.

As they turned to make their way up the beach, JJ couldn't shake the feeling of unseen eyes upon him. The wind howled, carrying with it the faintest whisper—or was it just his imagination? He looked back over his shoulder, squinting through the sheets of rain. For a split second, he thought he saw a silhouette out in the waves—a graceful form that disappeared as quickly as it had appeared.

"Did you see that?" JJ stopped in his tracks, gripping John B's arm.

John B followed his gaze but saw nothing but the storm's fury. "Come on, man. We need to move!"

With a final, lingering look, JJ allowed himself to be pulled away. But as they trudged through the sand, battling against the gusts, he silently vowed to uncover the truth of what—or who—saved him. The storm might have brought chaos, but it had also brought a mystery that stirred something deep within him—a blend of fear, curiosity, and an unshakable sense of uneasiness.

The rain continued to pelt the two teens, stinging their skin with icy droplets as they hurried away from the unforgiving sea. JJ's hand trembled slightly, the memory of the mysterious rescue still fresh in his mind. "I swear, B," he called to John B over the roar of the storm. "I saw something. Someone out there!"

John B gripped his friend's arm tighter, trying to steer him towards the safety of the trees. "I believe you, JJ. But right now, we need to focus on getting to shelter. We can't do anything while we're soaked and freezing."

The rain only continued to intensify, the sound of it hitting the foliage was almost deafening. The wind howled, causing the trees to bend and sway, as if the forest were alive and in pain.

JJ stumbled, his eyes still fixed on the now-distorted ocean. The sea had transformed into a monstrous beast, its waves monstrous and black as night. "What if whatever it was, is still out there? What if, god forbid, it needs help too?"

John B halted in his steps, turning to squint over his shoulder at the drenched form of his best friend, something akin to disbelief etched between his features "So what do you suggest JJ?!" shouted JB, trying to get his words to carry out fully over the howling wind and deafening sound of the rain in their ears, "You wanna swim out there? look for a person who might as well be dead in those wild waves?"

The teens stopped at the edge of the deserted beach, John B a bit ahead in steps than JJ, his face set into a worried frown "Let's just get to the Twinkie JJ— you can't possibly be suggesting something as crazy, when you were close to drowning yourself!"

JJ's shoulders slumped, the rain dripping off his hair and into his eyes.

"I know it sounds nuts, JB," he said, his voice tinged with frustration and helplessness. "But what if someone's out there, struggling just like I was?" He shivered, whether from the cold or the thought of someone stranded in the turbulent sea, he wasn't sure.

John B sighed, running a hand through his sopping wet hair. "JJ, be reasonable. We'd be like sitting ducks out there. We'd probably drown or get swept away by the current."

"I get that," JJ said, his voice quieter now, but still carrying a hint of determination. "But we can't just do nothing, man. We have to at least check."

John B gave him a stern look, his eyes reflecting a mix of concern and fear.

"And what if what you saw was just a trick of the light? Or a hallucination? Maybe you hit your head or something when you were tossed under the water. Maybe you're concussed. We can't risk it, JJ."

JJ wiped the raindrops from his face, frustration building in his chest. "I'm not concussed, alright? I know what I saw. It wasn't a trick of the light."

John B crossed his arms, his expression hardening. "And what if whatever it was, is dangerous? Maybe it pulled you in like bait, and you're just inviting trouble." He gestured to the violent sea behind them. "I mean, look at that! You really wanna test your luck again?"

JJ looked away, unable to deny the truth in John B's words. The ocean was a dangerous place, especially in a storm like this. But the thought of someone, or something, trapped in those treacherous waters gnawed at him like a relentless itch he couldn't scratch. He ran a trembling hand through his damp hair, the rain dripping off his fingers.

"So we just leave it, huh? Pretend like nothing happened?" The words tasted bitter in his mouth, like ashes on his tongue.

John B's eyes fell on the form of his best friend, still staring out at the ocean with a mix of curiosity and determination that seemed to seep into his very being, much like the icy rain was soaking through his clothes. The relentless downpour had drenched his skin, but he barely noticed, his focus entirely on JJ and convincing him to drop this for now and get to the Twinkie.

"We can come back tomorrow, look for any signs of a boat lost out there. Maybe whatever pulled you up was actually a person!"

He sighed, shielding his eyes from the rain with his hand as he looked out at the turbulent waves. The storm was relentless, each gust of wind and crash of the surf a reminder of the danger they faced.

"If you're sure about this, we come back tomorrow. We don't have to pretend like nothing happened! But we can't just go out there, JJ—not on surfboards, not swimming, and most definitely not on a boat!"

JJ hesitated, the weight of his desire to help warring with the knowledge that what John B was proposing made sense. The storm was too dangerous, the odds of finding anyone or anything with no boat were slim to none

"Alright," he finally conceded, "Tomorrow morning, first light. We'll come back and look. But what if whatever it was, is gone by then? What if—" he trailed off, his words swallowed up by a loud rumble of thunder.

John B nodded, a mixture of relief and unease in his features, the sound of the thunder seeming to echo the turmoil in his mind. He knew that the storm was only getting worse, the rain coming down harder and the wind howling like a wounded animal. But he also knew that JJ was stubborn to a fault, and that there was nothing he could do to change his mind once it was made up.

"We've got a deal then." He said, his voice strained by the wind. "But if it's still storming by then, we're not going out there. Understand?"

JJ nodded reluctantly, the rain continuing to pour down around them. "Yeah, I got it. If the storm's still going in the morning, we'll wait. Just... let's get to the Twinkie." He could feel the exhaustion starting to set in, the adrenaline from his near-drowning slowly ebbing away and leaving him battered and fatigued.

With those words, they began to make their way across the beach, struggling against the relentless wind and rain. John B kept a watchful eye on his friend, noticing the slight sway in his step and the paleness of his complexion. He wanted to reach out, help support JJ's weight, but he knew better than to offer - JJ had always been fiercely independent, and any offer of assistance would likely be met with a scoff and a defiant "I'm fine.".

They finally reached the Twinkie, the old van battered and dented but still standing strong. John B pulled open the passenger door, the old hinges squeaking in protest, motioning for JJ to climb inside. "Get in!" he hollered over the wind.

The hurricane was getting relentless by the minutes that passed, and John B was worried how he was gonna drive safely to the Chateau on the vicious rain. JJ climbed in the passenger seat, shutting the door with another squeak barely audible over the sound of the storm around them. He dumped the backpack along with the surf board in the back, running a hand through his wet hair and finally taking a deep breath to calm his nerves. Although they didn't relent, his mind still stuck of whatever or whoever was out there on these weather conditions, knowing just how dangerous the ocean could be.

John B started the engine, the old van roaring to life despite the relentless downpour. He gripped the steering wheel tightly, his eyes scanning the road ahead, trying to navigate the treacherous conditions as best he could

The ride was bumpy and slow, the rain making visibility near impossible and the van's age showing in every lurch and groan it made.

Through the windshield, JJ could see the trees swaying wildly in the wind, their branches like tendrils trying to reach out and grasp the van as they passed by.

Inside the van, the atmosphere was as tense as the storm that raged outside. JJ fidgeted with the strap of his seatbelt, his thoughts still consumed by the events of the previous hour. The image of whatever, or whoever, had pulled him from the waves was seared into his mind like a brand, refusing to fade even as they drove further away from the beach.

John B could sense his friend's unease but knew better than to prod just yet. The road was too dangerous, the conditions too unpredictable, and his attention had to stay focused on steering the Twinkie through the storm.

The van rocked and swayed as they crossed a particularly treacherous stretch of road, the rain pounding on the roof like a relentless drumbeat. JJ glanced at John B, noting the tight set of his friend's jaw and the way his knuckles were turning white on the steering wheel. The air in the van was heavy with unspoken thoughts, the wind and rain seeming to drown out even the sound of the Twinkie's engine.

"JJ thinks someone saved him out there in the hurricane," John B piped up with a chuckle, which caused him to cough up some smoke. He passed the joint to his girlfriend, Sarah, earning a questioning look from both Pope and Kiara. "When he was surfing in conditions beyond human safety?" asked Kiara, the brunette, with a small smile.

JJ was leaning against the old railing of the porch, frowning as his best friends watched him with amused yet worried expressions. He knew what he felt and he was sticking to his story, despite John B's teasing. "That's why I want us to go out there today, look for a boat or something," JJ insisted.

"Yep," nodded John B, popping the 'p.' "He wants us to go investigate the vast ocean—after a hurricane, mind you—to look for possible survivors. Or mermaids..." He snorted, causing Pope to chuckle at the mere thought of a mermaid.

"Shut up, man," JJ grumbled, feeling the sting of his friends' skepticism but refusing to back down. "Just cause it sounds crazy, doesn't mean it's not true. I know what I felt out there."

Pope, who had been quietly listening, leaned back in his seat and looked at JJ. "Dude, you were caught in a major hurricane. It's possible you were just hallucinating or something."

"I'm not hallucinating, Pope," JJ retorted, his frustration growing. "I'm telling you, something—or someone—grabbed me and pulled me out of the water."

Kiara, who also had been silently assessing the situation, looked at JJ with a more serious expression. "You really think someone was out there?" she asked.

JJ nodded, the conviction in his eyes evident. "I do. It happened too fast for me to get a good look but I felt it—I know it wasn't just the current or something."

John B, still skeptical, took a drag from the joint before passing it back. "And you're sure it wasn't, I don't know, a piece of seaweed or something? That can get tangled pretty quick."

"No, it wasn't seaweed!" JJ snapped, growing irritated with John B's persistent disbelief. "It was a hand, man. A hand grabbed me and pulled me up. I could feel the fingers and everything."

Pope rolled his eyes, clearly unconvinced. "Are you sure it wasn't a fish? Maybe a giant one, like a tuna or something."

"It definitely wasn't a damn fish, Pope!" JJ exclaimed, throwing up his hands in frustration. "And it wasn't a hallucination either. I know what I felt."

Sarah, who had been quiet thus far, chose that moment to chime in. "What if it was a sea monster?" she said, only half-joking.

JJ shot her a look, appreciating the small show of support, but still annoyed at the overall lack of belief in his tale. "It wasn't a sea monster, Sarah."

Kiara leaned forward in her chair, a pensive look on her face. "Okay, let's say hypothetically you're right. Let's say someone was out there in the water with you. What would they be doing out there in a hurricane?"

"If it was a sea monster, they usually live in the water Kie. No matter the weather condition." snorted Sarah in amusement, causing Kiara to roll her eyes half heartedly.

John B chuckled at Sarah's comment, smoke puffing out from between his teeth. "Yeah, a sea monster's totally logical."

Pope shook his head, still not fully convinced. "I hate to break it to you, JJ, but the chances of some mysterious savior pulling you from the water in the middle of a hurricane are pretty slim."

"I don't care about the slim chances!" JJ retorted, his frustration reaching its peak. "I know what I felt, and I'm not gonna just sit here and ignore it. I need to know who or what saved me."

The friends fell into an awkward silence, torn between humoring JJ and questioning his sanity.

And JJ could see it in their eyes. Of course they didn't believe him, it was a hurricane and he was the only one insane enough to go out surfing on such weather conditions. The theory of a boat being out there was slim as Pope said. If there were any survivors from the shipwreck they wouldn't be concerned about the safety of a dumb, adrenaline-junkie surfer. JJ knew that much. But something pulled him out of the water, right before he was about to black out. He wasn't insane or hallucinating. He didn't smoke before going out on the water. Not too much.

A human that managed to survive a boat being swept underwater by howling wind and monstruos waves wasn't gonna save another human who was out to surf the same waters. They'd be trying to swim to the shore and get dry, to safety from the hurricane and coast guard to help find the rest of the people on that boat. Not dive back into the water and swim further away from shore. Just like he saw. The silhouette dived back in swiftly, and swam away in the opposite direction of the shore.

So going out there to look for a shipwreck was— quite frankly stupid. Because JJ saw no boat in his near vicinity when surfing. "..Look i know you all think this is stupid." muttered JJ, his voice much quieter, "I know 'survivor of a shipwreck' sounds like a stretch. But I'm going out there alone, if i have to. You don't have to entertain this whole thing if you think I'm insane or if you think this is funny." he glared at the four pogues, running a hand through his messy sun-bleached hair.

He knew if that was a human, the chances of them being alive still, were again, slim. Probably none existent. It had been more than 12 hours since the hurricane. People were busy with cleaning their yards and buying generators to have power in their houses. He knew he was safe now that the hurricane was over.

His friends' gazes remained on him, silently contemplating his words. Pope broke the silence first, his voice laced with uncertainty. "JJ, are you sure about this? It's gonna be dangerous."

Kiara nodded in agreement, her brow furrowed in concern. "Yeah, and it's not like we can guarantee there's actually someone out there."

Sarah spoke up too, her tone a mix of worry and doubt. "And what if it's not a person? What if it's something dangerous...?"

John B's expression softened, and he leaned forward in his chair. "JJ, look, man," he began, his tone serious. "I know you think you felt something, but going out there alone is crazy. What if you get into trouble again? We don't even know what we're looking for."

JJ gritted his teeth, his determination growing stronger with each passing moment. "I don't care. I have to find out what happened out there. And I don't need you guys to babysit me. I can take care of myself."

"If it was a boat out there.. we can look on the beach. Or in the marsh.." interjected Sarah, trailing off her sentence. She didn't want to outright say it but if there was a human out there as the same time as JJ, looking on the beach for starters might actually help them find evidence of anything getting washed up on the sandy shoreline. Like a body. "To see if anything washed up on the sand.."

Kiara's eyes widened, her mind quickly catching up to Sarah's implication. "Yeah, and if we don't find anything, we can check the marshlands."

Pope nodded in agreement, the possibility of finding evidence giving them a small sense of hope. "It's worth a shot, JJ. But you have to promise you won't go out there alone."

JJ opened his mouth to protest, but John B cut him off. "No way, man. If we're doing this, we're doing it together. No more reckless solo missions."

JJ sighed, the fight slowly leaving his eyes. "Fine. But I'm warning you, this could be a wild goose chase."

John B clapped him on the back. "It probably is, but we're in it together. And if there is someone out there, we'll find 'em."

The boneyard, usually a haven of tranquility, has been turned into a desolate and battered landscape. The sand is wet and compacted, covered in a thick layer of seaweed, broken shells, and scattered debris. Pieces of driftwood, uprooted plants, and even remnants of beach furniture lie strewn about, evidence of the storm's relentless power.

The shoreline is littered with flotsam and jetsam, items carried ashore by the turbulent waves—plastic bottles, fishing nets, you name it.

Sand dunes, once gently sloping and covered in delicate grasses, are now eroded and reshaped, their surfaces pockmarked and uneven. The grasses are flattened or completely washed away, leaving behind exposed roots and sand. Small pools of water have formed in low-lying areas, remnants of the storm surge that inundated the beach.

The vegetation near the beach is damaged, with palm fronds torn and scattered, and other plants bent or broken. Trees that stood resilient against lesser storms now lie fallen or precariously tilted, their roots torn from the saturated ground.

The infamous beach that was once filled with tourists and people in bikinis looking to tan on the sand or surf the waves is now sprinkled with groups of locals trying to bring the beach back to its glory after being ravished by the hurricane. But JJ and his best friends are not here to clean the beach. After their search in the marshlands(which turned up as a dead lead) and JJ's insistences the group hopped off the HMS pogue for the time being.

JJ was determined to find something. Anything that backed up his story and helped his image in front of his very amused friends. The remnants of a boat? Maybe a shipwreck? He was more than convinced they should've just went out on the water, look for a boat that sunk to prove that he wasn't insane, but they weren't thrilled on going out on the ocean a day after a hurricane. So he had to stick to roaming the cluttered beach looking for anything.

Sarah, Pope, Kiara, and John B followed slightly behind JJ, their eyes glued to the ground, searching for something—anything. Each of them carried a bag to collect any potential evidence they could find.

Kiara kept glancing at JJ, noticing the intensity in his expression. She wasn't sure if he was determined or just plain stubborn. "JJ, slow down, will ya? We're not gonna find anything if we keep rushing through everything."

JJ huffed, his frustration clear. "We're wasting time! We should've just went out on the water. I know what I felt out there."

Pope rolled his eyes, his arm filled with debris, most likely not related to any possible survivor. "And what did you feel, exactly? A magical sea beast rescuing you?"

JJ shot Pope a dirty look but before he could retort, Sarah spoke up. "I hate to admit it, but Pope has a point. Did you actually see anything in the water? Or was it just a feeling?"

JJ paused, his gaze flickering across his friends' faces. "I didn't see anything. It was just... a sense. A touch. Someone grabbed me and pulled me to the surface."

John B raised an eyebrow, skepticism in his gaze. "You sure it wasn't just a wave or a current?"

JJ bristled at his best friend's doubt, his expression hardening. "I know the difference between a wave and a person, John B. I could feel a hand grasp my arm, yanking me up."

Kiara, her expression now more sympathetic than suspicious, approached him slowly. "JJ, you've been through a lot lately. Maybe you just imagined it? Stress and exhaustion can play tricks on your mind."

JJ clenched his jaw, his eyes narrowing. "I know what I felt, Kie. It wasn't in my head."

Pope shrugged, his skepticism still present. "We haven't found a single piece of evidence. Maybe it's time to accept that you were confused."

JJ spun around, his hands balling into fists. "I'm telling you, there's something out there! Y'all think I'm crazy, but I know what happened. So either y'all can believe me or not, but I ain't stopping till I find proof of what saved me."

Sarah and John B exchanged a glance, both clearly not convinced by JJ's insistence. John B sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "Alright, JJ. We'll keep looking, but let's keep our expectations in check. It's more likely that what you felt was just a current, nothing more."

Kiara nodded, setting down a few pieces of trash. "We're on your side, JJ. We just don't wanna see you get all worked up over something that might not be real."

JJ nodded reluctantly, the fire in his eyes dimming just a bit. "Fine, fine. But if I find anything, y'all better believe I won't let ya go a day without hearing about it."

John B chuckled as Pope facepalmed, a small smirk on his face. "Of course you wouldn't. You're never one to let things go."

As the group continued their search, JJ remained unusually quiet. The skepticism of his friends stung, but he refused to let it dampen his determination. He was convinced he had felt something— someone —pull him from the churning ocean.

He knew there was a chance he could be wrong, but deep down, he could feel the truth in his bones and the physical touch on his skin. The day was slipping between the group's fingers like sand, and JJ could feel their looks on his back practically heart their thoughts. This was indeed a wild goose chase and they should've spent the day cleaning up after the hurricane not wander the beach like headless chicken looking for... nothing.

But as the walked further down the beach, JJ strayed a bit from his best friends. Mostly to clear his head and take a breather from the judgmental looks. He found himself stepping into one of the small caves on the beach he knew all to well, having explored it and went for swims with his friends a couple of times.

The beach cave was tucked away at the far end of the shoreline, partially hidden by a rocky outcrop. Its entrance was a wide, yawning mouth, framed by jagged rocks that jutted out like ancient sentinels guarding the secrets within. The cave walls, worn smooth by centuries of wind and waves, were adorned with intricate patterns of erosion, creating a tapestry of swirls and grooves.

As JJ stepped inside, the temperature dropped noticeably, and the sound of the crashing waves outside became a distant murmur. The air was cool and damp, carrying the faint scent of salt and seaweed. The floor of the cave was a mix of fine sand and pebbles devoid of any debris and clutter and trash, washed in by the tides that occasionally reached into its depths.

Light filtered in from the entrance, casting a soft, ethereal glow on the cave's interior. The further JJ ventured, the dimmer it became, with only the occasional shaft of sunlight piercing through cracks and crevices in the ceiling. These beams of light illuminated the cave in a celestial manner, creating pockets of brightness amidst the shadows.

Stalactites hung from the ceiling, their pointed forms glistening with moisture, while stalagmites rose from the ground, their rough surfaces reflecting the soft light. In some places, these formations had joined together to create columns, like the pillars of a forgotten temple. The sound of dripping water echoed softly, a rhythmic accompaniment to the hushed ambiance.

At the back of the cave, a small pool of crystal-clear water had formed, fed by an underground spring. The water was still and serene, its surface reflecting the cave's natural beauty like a mirror. Tiny fish darted beneath the surface, their movements creating ripples that danced across the pool.

JJ stood at the back of the cave, his gaze fixed on the tranquil pool. The silence around him was almost deafening, only broken by the intermittent sound of dripping water echoing softly through the cave. His mind was still swirling with the earlier events of the day—the hurricane, his friends' skepticism, and the nagging thought that maybe they were right. Maybe he had just imagined the feeling of someone saving him.

He knelt down next to the pool, his hand reaching out to touch the cool water. As his fingers skimmed the surface, the reflection of his face rippled, distorted by the movement.

He sighed, sitting down fully onto the soft, grainy sand by the pool, his shoulders slumped in defeat. The doubts he had tried to keep at bay were creeping in, eating at his confidence.

"Maybe I am going crazy..." He muttered to himself, his voice barely above a whisper, almost in trance with his thoughts. As JJ sat there, taking in his surroundings and preparing for the inevitable chorus of "i told you so" from his friends when he ventured out of the cave, something caught his eye.

There was something, he couldn't really see what in the dim light of the cave, but it stuck out like a sore thumb in the stoney setting. JJ's heartbeat sped up in anticipation. The anticipation that he might be right. He stood up walking along the edge of the small pool of water, approaching the mysterious.. thing. His boots padded softly against the cave floor, the sound of his footsteps echoing the anticipation in his head. The closer he got, the better he could see the outline of the mystery object. It looked to be a bundle of seaweed, but the arrangement was too precise, too deliberate.

Finally reaching it, JJ knelt by the edge of the pool, his fingers reaching out to touch the object. He carefully pushed aside the tangled mass of green and brown to reveal... A person? A girl nonetheless. Her eyes were closed and she looked like she was asleep. Which scared JJ, because what if he came across a corpse. What was he gonna do? He stumbled back a little, staring at the unmoving body of the mystery girl, covered in seaweed.

JJ's mind raced as he tried to process what lay before him. A girl? Here, in the depths of this secluded cave he used to use for hiding or cooling off? And she wasn't moving, her eyes were closed, she looked... dead. JJ's hand trembled as he reached out to touch her pale cheek, expecting it to be cold to the touch.

But instead, she was warm. And her skin was soft.

His eyes widened in surprise as he felt the warmth radiating from her skin. She was alive, but unconscious. JJ's mind was still spinning with conflicting thoughts, but he couldn't just leave her here. He tried to shake her shoulder gently, trying to get a response. But nothing. She remained limp and unresponsive. He tried again, a bit more forcefully this time.

"Hey," he said, his voice a soft murmur. "Hey, wake up..."

The girl showed no signs of stirring, her eyes remained closed and her body unresponsive. JJ was growing more agitated by the second. He tried to keep his voice calm, to not panic, but his thoughts were racing. What was he supposed to do? What could he do? He tried shaking her again, harder this time. He needed her to wake up, to wake up so he could ask questions, figure out what was going on.

"Come on," he said, slightly frustrated now. "Wake up, goddamn it—"

His words died in his throat as her eyes finally fluttered open. They were a deep, mesmerizing shade of dark purple, almost like the ocean under a beautiful sunset, and they stared at him blankly for a moment before focusing (which he swore he saw the glow faintly for a second). She looked shocked, dazed, unsure of her surroundings. Her gaze darted around wildly until finally landing on JJ, and she slowly began to sit up.

When she did so, JJ's shock grew even more, which melted into flusteredness when he realized she was naked. Aside from being covered in seaweed, she was in fact, naked. He averted his eyes trying to calm his panicked brain and try and make what he could of the situation at hand.

There was a girl. Which laid here unconscious until JJ found her, and although he expected her to start coughing up water, she didn't. Instead she sat there her arms wrapped around her chest, staring blankly at JJ. As if this was a normal day on the beach and he had interrupted her from tanning in the sun topless. He didn't know ho long this girl had been laying here, or if she managed to survive a shipwreck of any sorts.

Then there were her eyes. Purple, first of all. Who has purple eyes? No one. At least no one that JJ knew. In the low light her hair seemed black, but when she shifted a little, causing the filtering sun from a crack in the ceiling to shine down on the top of her hair, JJ realized it was a navy, dark blue. Which unlike her eyes wasn't weird. Many people had blue hair. Hair dye wasn't uncommon.

JJ's cheeks burned red as he desperately tried to find something to shield his eyes from her naked form. He looked around desperately, hoping to find a piece of fabric or something, anything to cover her up. But there was nothing. The cave was almost bare other than a few random rocks strewn about.

His gaze flicked back to her involuntarily, unable to resist the pull of her purple eyes. They were hypnotizing, almost glowing in the dim light. And her hair, it was almost too perfect. He'd never seen someone with such flawless hair, let alone in this condition, sure it was wet but it was perfect and long; sticking to her shoulders and flowing down her back from what he could see. Something was off about her...

JJ finally realized he was still staring at her and quickly looked away again, clearing his throat awkwardly. He had to say something, break the silence. But what?

"Uh," he started, trying to keep his voice steady. "Are you... alright?" It was a dumb question, but it was all he could think of to say. He could see her shiver slightly, and his heart ached for a moment before he realized why she was shivering.

"You're... um, cold."

You blinked, completely silent, and unphased by JJ's awkwardness. Your arms were still wrapped around your chest, which rose up and down gently while you breathed. Your eyes were assessing the blond in front of you. He looked panicked, scared, shocked, awkward, and you weren't entirely sure what to say. Or more importantly how to say it.

JJ noticed her unwavering composure. Despite her being the one who had washed up naked and unconscious on a beach, she seemed completely unaffected. Her gaze was fixed on him, watching him like a hawk, and it made him even more unsettled. He tried to collect himself, running a shaky hand through his messy blond hair.

"I, uh..." he started, then trailed off. He needed to say something, anything, to break the eerie silence.

"You're... naked."

You stared at JJ for another beat before looking down, shifting a little to stare and analyze your own body. Your eyes fell onto your legs, and you wiggled your toes a little, raising one foot of the sand as if to inspect it. There was a hint of smile pulling at your lips, as you rolled your ankle to study your foot.

JJ was growing more unsettled by the minute. The silence was deafening, and her unwavering blank stare was starting to make him feel like he was losing his mind. He tried to ignore the shiver that went up his spine as her eyes darted over his form, looking almost analytical in a way.

He shifted uncomfortably, the silence feeling almost like a physical force now. He looked towards the crack in the roof, noticing that the light had started to fade. Nightfall was coming, and he couldn't leave her here alone.

After doing so for a few moments, you stood up without a warning. The seaweed slid off your body, but you didn't seem to care. Your only focus was on standing up on your feet, swaying slightly as your tried to take a step, your smile growing a fraction.

Panic flashed across JJ's face as she got up so suddenly. His words died in his throat as he watched her, his eyes roaming over her form again before he remembered he was trying not to look at her.

She wobbled for a moment before steadying herself, and then took a tentative step forward. Her bare feet left prints in the sand, and her wet hair clung to her skin. She seemed to be testing out her legs, as if she just suddenly realized she had them. JJ found it odd, but more than that he found himself being drawn in by her strange behavior.

He watched as she took another step, her movements graceful but uncoordinated, las if her feet were sore and she had trouble walking. With each step she grew more confident, and the smile that had been flickering on her lips moments before widened into a grin. JJ found it captivating. It was like she was discovering the ability to walk for the first time, and the joy was palpable.

She took another step, and then another, her gaze fixed on the ground as if she was exploring the world through her feet. JJ had never seen anything like it.

She continued to walk around the cave, her steps more confident now, almost skipping. Each time her feet connected with the ground, she let out a soft little laugh. It was a strange sound, but there was something soothing about it. JJ found himself watching her with a mix of fascination and worry. This girl was clearly not from around here (or entirely right in the head?), but he was more fascinated by her sudden strange behavior.

She looked like she was having the time of her life, the way she skipped around in a circle. It was almost as if she was dancing to a song only she could hear and JJ didn't know what to make of it.

Meanwhile, you forgot momentarily about JJ, trying to steady your steps as your feet connected with the wet sand of the cave. It was so much more interesting than it looked. It felt strange too. But you didn't find it unpleasant. You raised your eyes from the ground fixing them on the blond who was standing there silently baffled, trying not to stare at you. Too much. If that was possible given you were completely naked and instead of being scared or disoriented, you almost skipped joyously.

"Uh..." JJ found himself at a loss for words, watching as she came to a sudden halt. She looked at him, her gaze curious and almost innocent, as if she was waiting for him to do or say something.

He cleared his throat, his eyes darting awkwardly between her face and the floor, the ceiling, anywhere but the rest of her.

"You, uh..." he started again, his mind a jumble of thoughts and emotions. Where did she come from? Why was she acting this way? And why couldn't he stop staring?

He took a tentative step towards her, his eyes still avoiding her body. But her gaze was fixed on him, watching him curiously.

"You, uh, do you... know where you are?" he asked, mentally cursing himself for the stupid question. Of course, she wouldn't know, she had just washed up here completely naked, alone, and dazed.

You looked up as if mulling over his question. You sort of did know where you were but not really, so you just shook your head.

A small pang of concern flared in JJ's chest at your answer, but he quickly shoved it down. He tried to think of his next question, but her gaze was still fixed on him, studying him intently, and it was throwing off his thought process.

"Do you... know who you are?" he asked, his voice coming out quieter than he'd intended.

You took a moment to answer this time, your brow furrowing slightly. Your face almost looked troubled, like you were trying to remember something. JJ almost held his breath, waiting for you to say something, anything.

It was almost a whole minute before you replied. When you spoke your voice was quiet, soft, and tinged with what almost sounded like confusion.

"No." came your reply, arms still wrapped around your chest protectively.

Something about the way she answered, her voice soft and tinged with confusion, shot a pang of sympathy through JJ. She didn't know who she was, where she was, she knew nothing.

He took another tentative step forward, his need to comfort her overcoming his awkwardness in speaking with a naked girl he'd just met in a beach cave. He stopped barely an arm's length away from her, her eyes still locked on his, and he resisted the urge to look down at her. He needed to focus.

"Okay," he said quietly, "okay."

He racked his brain for something, anything, to say. He felt completely out of his depth. What were you supposed to say in situations like this? But here was this strange girl who had washing up on their beach, naked, alone, and with no idea who she was.

His eyes darted over her again, trying to assess the situation. She looked fine, her skin was a little damp from the water, and she was shivering slightly in the cool air. But her eyes were clear, her gaze still intent on him.

JJ was speechless. You were strange, just laying in this cave motionless before he found you by accident and for all he knew you were probably missing in some place. Maybe the mainland. At least he was lucky you were not dead. How was he gonna explain that he just casually found a dead body in this cave to his friends. Right, his friends! He needed to get you to his friends.

For all JJ knew you could have helped him yesterday out in the water and not remembered. He had to rub it in their faces. And if not they at least needed to get out of the cave before nightfall came and they were stuck in a damp, dark and quite frankly scary cave,

He was so tangled up in his own thoughts that he didn't notice you shiver suddenly. But, when he heard the chattering of your teeth, it shook him from his trance and he looked down at you.

"You're cold," he stated matter-of-factly.

Realizing he shouldn't let you get hypothermia, he took off his zip-up green hoodie and draped it over your shoulders. "Here," he said, gently pushing it around you. You clutched the material, immediately wrapping it closer around yourself, and he tried not to stare as it covered up your bare chest.

You tugged the fabric, looking down at the zip up hoodie now rapped up around you. You seemed to look up again, as if trying to remember a word you had forgotten before speaking up for the second time since you up. "Thanks.. you?"

The words were a bit disjointed and there was some sort of accent to your voice? No, like you couldn't pronounce the words. And the expression of gratitude was wrong. It was 'thanks you' instead of the normal usual one. But JJ wasn't the language police. What the hell was he doing critiquing your speaking and the way you thanked him when you could've been concussed for all he knew.

JJ's brow furrowed as you spoke, the hint of an unfamiliar accent not lost on him. He tried to place it but couldn't quite put his finger on it. It seemed like you weren't a local, but he wasn't sure where you were from exactly.

"You're welcome," he replied, his words a bit clunky, trying to ignore how odd it was to hold a conversation with a naked girl he had just met in a cave.

He took a deep breath, trying to think of what to do next.

He knew he couldn't just leave you alone, not with no memory of who you were.

"Look, I'm gonna take you somewhere safe, alright?" he said, leaning down slightly to make eye contact with you. "Somewhere you can get warm, dry off, and maybe figure some things out."

"Somewhere safe.." you mumbled almost reverently as if you were testing the words on your tongue. You watched JJ intently, eyes fixed into his baby blue ones when he leaned in slightly. He looked interesting, just like you but different in a way. Maybe because he was from up here. "That's good.." you nodded, your words still chopped and disjointed in JJ's ears.

He had to get you to his best friends as soon as possible.

JJ's heartbeat quickened at your words, your accent only adding to the mystery surrounding you. He tried to figure out where you were from but couldn't quite put his finger on it.

He nodded in agreement at your response, "Yeah, it'll be safe there. I have friends. They can help."

He wasn't quite sure how his friends would react to the strange girl with no memory he'd found on the beach, but he had to try. He extended a hand towards you.

Your eyes fell onto his extended hand, and then to your own clutching the fabric of the zip-up hoodie around you. You looked up at him then, and JJ understood you didn't really know what to make of his gesture if that was possible. Or you just didn't wanna take his hand in fear that the hoodie won't sit wrapped around you snuggly, keeping you warm. Which puzzled him. Did you even know how use the zipper of it? Did you knew that you didn't have to hold it wrapped around you and just zip it?

"Friends?" you asked quizzically, wrapping the hoodie around you even tighter, still not simply zipping it up.

JJ watched you clutch the fabric of the hoodie around you tighter and tighter, realizing you didn't seem to know how to use it properly.

He chuckled softly, finding your confusion endearing. He nodded in response to your question. "Yeah, friends. Good people. They'll help us."

He took a step closer, gesturing to the hoodie. "You don't have to hold it like that, you know. You can just zip it up."

You looked at him with wide eyes, processing his words. He could see the wheels turning in your mind as you tried to understand what he meant. It was as if the simple concept of a zipper was foreign to you.

JJ realized that he had to show you how to use the hoodie. He stepped closer, his hand gently touching yours, guiding you to the zipper. "Here, let me show you."

He slowly unzipped the hoodie, then carefully zipped it back up, making sure the garment fit snuggly around you, protecting you from the cold of the cave.

You shifted on your feet after he zipped it up, smiling down at the hoodie as it was zipped up and protecting you from the chill of the cave or JJ's eyes, almost mesmerized at how the zipper worked. You locked eyes with him, holding your hand out just like he did, not stepping closer, just extending out your hand.

It seemed like you were more imitating JJ's gesture rather than offering him your hand to hold, and he found it even more strange. Your palm was extended stiffly and you turned your hand from side to side inspecting it, parting your fingers curiously.

JJ watched you closely, noticing the way you looked at the hoodie with fascination, as if you had never seen one before. But what caught his attention more was your attempt at imitating his gesture, extending your hand awkwardly.

He raised an eyebrow in confusion, watching as you inspected your own hand, turning it from side to side. It was bizarre, and he wondered what you were thinking.

"What are you doing?" he asked gently, curious about your strange behavior.

You held out your hand closer to his face, parting your fingers and turning your hand as if showing it to JJ. You then pointed to his own hand, the same look of intense thought flitting over your features before you mumbled while stepping closer, "same.."

JJ's eyebrows furrowed as he leaned in closer, trying to understand what you meant. You held out your hand, parting your fingers and turning it, as if showing it to him. Then you pointed to his own hand, mumbling the word "same."

JJ's eyes widened as he realized what you were trying to say. You were comparing your hand to his, noting the similarities in your gesture.

"Yeah," he said, holding his hand next to yours. "They look the same."

JJ stood next to you, his hand extended next to yours, trying to understand you better. He found your behavior odd yet fascinating. It was as if you were learning about the world for the first time, discovering even the simplest things.

He watched as you stared at his hand next to yours, still marveling at how identical they looked. Then, without warning, you suddenly reached out and took his hand in yours, holding it up to the light.

You grabbed his pointer finger and parted it from the middle one as if looking and expecting something between the fingers. Your deep purple eyes were focused on the space between his fingers before falling onto his rings, grazing your fingers over one of them, "Very shiny." you smiled, looking up at him with raised brows.

JJ watched you with a mix of amusement and fascination as you explored his hand. The way you examined his fingers and marveled at his rings intrigued him. He couldn't help but chuckle at your comment, a small smile forming on his face.

"Yeah, they are," he agreed, holding up his hand, and the light flickered on the silver ring on his finger. "You like shiny things, huh?"

He noticed how you seemed drawn to his rings, fascinated by their glinting beauty. It was as if you had never seen such adornments before, which added to the mystery surrounding you. JJ couldn't help but find your innocence endearing. He held up his hand, allowing the light to bounce off his rings, creating mesmerizing patterns on the cave walls.

"They're called rings," he explained gently. "They're pretty, right?"

"Pretty?" you asked, raising your brows in question now. Your eyes followed his hand, eyes fixed on his ring almost in awe.

JJ chuckled softly at your response, amused by your innocent curiosity. He could tell you were a bit out of touch with the world, but that only added to the charm.

"Yes, pretty," he nodded, holding up his hand again. "They're meant to look nice and draw attention. This one's my favorite."

He pointed to a specific ring on his finger, a simple silver band with a small stone embedded in it.

You inspected the small ring, your finger brushing over the small blue stone with a mesmerized curiosity. When you heard the word favorite it seemed like you remembered something, your face lighting up. You turned your head to the side, moving your hair out of the way to expose the back of your neck. JJ squinted slightly, trying to figure out what he was looking at, or what he was supposed to see.

He expected a necklace or maybe even earrings but what he saw made him even curious, if that was the correct word for what was happening. There was a small, blueish starfish on the back of your neck, its color vibrant and lively, the creature looking alive and well. Scratch that, not on— in your skin. Like it was embedded there, or grew on its own. Around it there were small seashells and even corrals growing? from your skin. Was he hallucinating? Was that a tattoo?

"Favorite." you muttered smiling, turning to face him again and let your damp hair fall over the back of your neck and cover whatever JJ saw.

JJ had expected to see a tattoo or a necklace, but what he found was unlike anything he had ever seen before. The small starfish, corals, and seashells seemed to grow from your skin, and it was both captivating and puzzling. Was he hallucinating? Dreaming? Yet your calm demeanor and cheerful smile suggested this bizarre spectacle was entirely normal to you. JJ's mind raced, trying to process the impossible sight before him, but he quickly composed himself as you turned back, your damp hair concealing your extraordinary neck.

"Um...yeah," he managed to say, still stunned. "That's... very unique."

JJ's mind was still trying to comprehend what he had seen, but he tried his best to maintain a calm facade. However, a million questions swirled in his head, each one more baffling than the last. Were you the result of some genetic experiment gone wrong? Or maybe you weren't even human at all? He decided to keep those thoughts to himself, not wanting to cause you any distress.

He tried to think of something to say, but his usual easy banter failed him. He blurted out the first thing that came to mind, "Did it hurt?"

"Hurt?" you asked, brows furrowing in confusion. "No." you shook your head, as if he was asking a stupid question. Which baffled JJ even more. He had to get you to his friends. As soon as possible. If he didn't, he'd think he was imagining all of this.

That's when he noticed it. The small seashells and corals were trailing from the back of your neck, scattered over your skin like freckles maybe? They trailed off on your shoulder, hidden away by the hoodie he had given you and he was wondering how he didn't notice them when you were... well, completely naked. Maybe it was the shock of finding you unconscious in this cave, and his efforts to not stare at your naked body.

JJ's eyes traced the path of the seashells and corals, noticing how they extended beyond your neck and onto your shoulder. He realized that he must've been too focused on ensuring your modesty earlier to fully take in the extent of these strange markings. His curiosity grew as he pondered the possibility that they might extend further down your body...

Clearing his throat, he tried to keep his voice casual. "Do they... go anywhere else?"

You shrugged nonchalantly, not understanding why this was a notable subject. "Yes. They do." you said simply. Of course. That made sense. Why did he feel his own cheeks warming? He was being ridiculous, trying to act as if this was not a shocking thing to happen. But why was the thought of them continuing down your body making his heart beat faster?

You gestured towards your back vaguely, you seemed oblivious to his curiosity, to the fact that you were showing him something completely and utterly abnormal, completely out from his world. Completely out of this world. And that you had done so the moment he woke you up. And still, you managed to be adorable. How were you even real?

JJ was struggling to remain composed, the mixture of curiosity and fascination battling with the surrealness of the situation. You spoke so simply, so nonchalantly, as if this was normal, as if you were not a walking contradiction. Normal yet abnormal, familiar yet utterly strange, adorable yet enigmatic. He found himself entranced, wanting to know more.

He couldn't help but wonder just how far those markings extended. The thought of them running down your back, across your... He quickly shook off that thought.

He cleared his throat and tried to sound casual again. "Um... can I see?" He mentally cursed himself for phrasing it that way. It sounded wrong. "I mean, if you're okay with it, I'd like to see where they go."

You shook your head, fidgeting with the hem of the hoodie. Of course. You were naked underneath. What was he asking you? He should get you out of the cave and to his friends. Get you clean clothes and try and figure out what the hell was he witnessing. And if you had anything to do with him being saved from drowning yesterday, out on the treacherous waters.

You looked down almost thoughtfully, before pointing to the top of your head. JJ stepped closer, too curious to stop himself, too eager to see what you were gonna show him next. He had to squint in the dim light of the cave, your fingers parting your hair a little to reveal.. Small tube-shaped corals, growing out of your head like horns. Just one tube on each side of your head, small dark reddish-brown corals.

Okay JJ was definitely hallucinating. Did you actually have them growing from your scalp too? And the sea-creatures seemed alive, like they were still underwater. And not on someone's body, on dry land.

JJ's mind reeled. First, the starfish growing on the nape of your neck, and now these horn-like corals on your scalp? This had to be some bizarre dream, some crazy scenario his brain had conjured up. But as he watched, the corals seemed to pulse with a subtle but rhythmic motion, as if they were alive, like the sea creatures they resembled.

He reached out, almost involuntarily, and touched one of the corals gently. It felt solid, tangible, unlike anything he had ever felt before.

A surprised gasp escaped his lips. The texture, the way it moved... it was unmistakably organic. These were not decorations, not some weird trick. They were a part of you, grown from your skin, as if you were some sort of walking reef.

His thoughts raced, trying to understand, to find a logical explanation for this bizarre sight, but all that came to mind was confusion and fascination.

"How...?" he started, then stopped himself, his eyes now roaming over your neck and shoulders, noticing more growths peeking out from underneath the hoodie you wore.

As his fingertips brushed against the corals, he could swear he felt a strange sort of electrical current. It was faint, like a gentle hum under his touch, a hint of some hidden energy.

His mind raced, trying to make sense of what he seeing, what he was feeling. Was this some form of mutation? Magic? Or was he just losing his mind? But you just ruffled your hair gently, covering the small coral tubes. Your expression was almost questioning, as if his bewilderment was abnormal. As if he was shocked at seeing something as common as a mole or a freckle.

Your nonchalant demeanor only baffled JJ more. It was as if having corals—no, whole ecosystems it seemed—growing out of your skin was the most normal, commonplace thing in the world.

His fingers lingered for a moment longer on the coral he'd touched, feeling the faint hum of energy beneath his fingertips. It was surreal, like trying to grasp a phantom. What were you?

"These..." he began, shaking his head slightly in disbelief still. "... They're real? They grow from your skin? How... is that even possible?"

You shifted on your spot, wiggling your toes in awe and looking down at your feet. You wanted to speak, but it seemed like your vocabulary was very limited. At least from what JJ heard when you spoke. Small one word responses, or just straight up repeating the words he'd said.

"They don't hurt." you mumbled, raising your eyes to lock them with his. You fell silent once again, fidgeting with your fingers. Although this was a slightly longer response, it still sounded chopped, and the look of concentration on your face told JJ that you were probably trying to find the right words. "These are my favorites." you added.

JJ's expression remained a mix of fascination and confusion. Hearing you speak in short, simple sentences added to the surreal feeling of the situation. It was like hearing a child talk, but even that didn't seem quite right.

He followed your gaze down at your feet and then back up to your face. The way you talked about them—these strange, living growths—as if they were just regular body parts, favorites at that.

He shook his head slightly, still trying to process it all. "Favorites?" he echoed, his voice laced with bemusement.

"Yes. Pretty." you nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. And he realized that you were talking about these things just like he was talking about his rings. Showing him your favorites and feeling strangely proud over them.

Your smile, so simple yet so sincere, took him slightly off guard. To you, these corals, these strange things growing from every part of your body, were just like his favorite rings, bracelets or necklaces.

He ran a hand through his already messy hair, trying to wrap his head around everything. But despite the strangeness of it all, there was something oddly endearing about the way you were showing off, proud even.

He chuckled softly, a disbelieving shake of his head. "Pretty, huh?"

This felt like a fever dream. He was still in disbelief that you were even real. That you stood in front of him, having a conversation with him, in the middle of an empty cave—naked, for christ's sake—and casually showing off some corals, shell and sea-creatures that were growing out of your skin like some wild growth.

But there was something about the way you spoke about it, the way you smiled so proudly at him, that made him want to keep you talking..

JJ's train of thought was interrupted by the ring of his phone, which startled you, causing you to step back from him in fear at the sound.

JJ cursed under his breath upon hearing his phone ring, the sudden sound making you jump back slightly.

"Hey, it's okay," he said quietly, holding his hand up in a pacifying manner, trying to calm you down.

He took his phone from his back pocket, the screen flashing with the name of his friend Sarah, most likely wondering where he was.

"It's just a friend calling," he assured you, trying to keep his voice even to not alarm you again.

He answered the phone, keeping his gaze fixed on you, half expecting you to bolt at any second. But you stayed, although you looked more nervous now, your eyes shifting between him and the entrance to the cave.

JJ remembered why he was out here in the first place when he answered Sarah's call. His friends were most likely waiting for him, still walking around the beach mindlessly, looking for boat remnants or anything that had to do with his encounter yesterday out in the water.

Sarah's voice came through the phone, questioning JJ's whereabouts. He explained briefly where he was, not going into the details about the strange girl he had just found.

"I found something, " he simply said, leaving it at that. He caught a hint of surprise in Sarah's voice but she was used to the oddities of their life on the Outer Banks.

"Something or someone?" Sarah inquired, curiosity lacing her words.

JJ grimaced, shifting his weight nervously as he kept an eye on you, who was now poking at a nearby rock on the ground.

"Both, sort of" he admitted finally, running a hand through his messy blond hair. His eyes darted back to you, trying to gauge your reaction, but you seemed oddly fascinated by the rock, oblivious to their conversation.

Sarah chuckled softly through the phone. "Care to elaborate?" she asked, clearly amused by the cryptic response.

"I'll be out in a few, wait for me.." he whispered, stealing a glance at you once again. You seemed harmless, almost innocent in your fascination with the rock, but he knew appearances could be deceiving. He moved a little farther away from you, maintaining some distance as he spoke with Sarah.

Sarah sighed, her voice laced with a hint of concern now. "Alright, I'll let the others know." She paused for a moment. "Be careful, JJ. I don't know what you found, but this feels.. different."

JJ scoffed lightly at her worry, but he knew she had a point. "It's the Outer Banks, everything is different here" he replied, his voice tinged with a mixture of annoyance and anticipation.

Sarah chuckled. "Yeah, but this feels weirder than usual" she commented, her voice echoing his previous thoughts. She knew him too well.

JJ grumbled softly, looking over his shoulder at you. You were now crouching next to the rock, your focus entirely on it.

"I'll explain when we meet up" he said, his attention divided between the phone call and keeping an eye on you. He was itching with questions himself, but had to put them aside for the moment.

Sarah sighed on the other end of the line. "Okay, hurry up," she said, her tone filled with a mix of impatience and curiosity. There was a beep as she ended the call, leaving JJ to his thoughts.

He pocketed his phone, his eyes flickering back to you. You were now running your fingers along some symbols carved into the rock, your motions slow and almost reverent. He sighed walking closer to you, studying you intently. "We have to uh, go.." he mumbled, wondering if you even wanted to leave the cave in the first place.

As JJ approached you, you looked up at him, your expression one of curiosity again. You had been completely caught up in exploring the symbols on the rock, your fingers tracing them with an almost careful and gentle touch.

When he mentioned leaving, you stopped, tilting your head slightly to the side, as if considering his words. For a moment it seemed as though you were contemplating his statement, a thoughtful expression on your face. But eventually, you nodded, showing that you were willing to leave the cave with him.

JJ was surprised by your willingness to leave. "Oh.. Good." he said, a hint of relief in his voice. He had expected resistance from you, maybe even a tantrum for wanting to take you away from the cave. But no, here you were nodding your head in agreement just like that. He watched, still mesmerized by your strange behavior.

"Alright, let's go then." he added, extending his hand to you, hoping you'd take it without any protest.

You looked at his hand, standing up straight, before pointing down at the small rock you were inspecting. It was as if you were asking JJ if you could take it. You crouched down and took it in your hands, extending it to him questioningly before placing your hand in his and stepping closer.

He looked at the rock you were holding, it was rather small and looked ordinary. But your fixation on it didn't go unnoticed, there was something about it that you found significant. JJ studied you for a few seconds before saying.

"Yeah, sure, we can take it if you want..." he said, giving you a little nod, trying to understand your strange behavior. He was still processing all of this. He watched as you placed your hand in his, now holding your small palm in his larger one.

He led you out of the cave, his grip on your hand firm but gentle at the same time. The walk on the beach was quiet, your eyes darting around you curiously, and then watching the waves crashing against the sandy shores with some sort of longing if JJ wasn't wrong..

They walked in silence for a while, your hand still tucked safely in his. JJ couldn't help but steal quick glances at you, his curiosity only growing with each passing minute. Your odd fascination with the cave, your strange behavior and the fact you were naked under his hoodie.

The silence was suddenly interrupted by the sound of a sea gull above them, causing you to look up at the bird with a small amount of interest, and a small smile tugging at your lips. JJ's grip on your hand tightened as they walked. He was hyperaware of the fact that you weren't wearing anything underneath that hoodie. He still couldn't understand how you managed to be so calm, being almost fully bare in front of a stranger. He tried to shake the thought from his mind, focusing on the path ahead.

As they continued walking, they could hear the distant sound of voices and the rustling of their friends as they approached. Soon enough, JJ's best friends came into view, sitting on the beach and discussing something urgently looking up when they heard JJ and you approaching.

Sarah and Kiara looked at you in surprise, their eyes wide with shock. Pope and John B exchanged confused glances before looking at JJ for some kind of explanation. To say they all were confused was an understatement.

JJ assumed that he had the same expression as his best friends on his face when he found you unconscious in the cave, covered in seaweed and kelp. Which amused him for a split second before he realized the gravity of the situation. Wait until they saw the corals and creatures growing from your skin..

A/N: Finally posted this request! this is actually such an interesting story to write but the plot has me a bit stunned at the moment because i don't know where to take it. Asks, reblogs and comments would be appreciated since i wanna know if you want part two to this story also!

Tag-list*:･ﾟ✧ @cali-888, @bee-43, @jjscoquette, @melsbels-zip, @stanseventeen @wh0reforbucknasty @wtfisastiles @annaconscience @pqndxra @carrerascameron @nini2mem @iynsane @gublerstylesobrien1238 @wrldfilms

[enhaflixer]

HII i just wanted to ask if we could get a bonus scene of jake and reader just being together because the fic was so family surrounded I FEEL LIKE WE NEED A MOMENT WHERE JAKE AND READER ARE JUST FIXING THEIR BOND IF U GET WHA TI MEAN (love love love strikes out and marriage law btw.)

A Strikes Out Bonus Scene-

The house had never been this quiet before. Not really.

There was always something—a cartoon playing faintly in another room, a drawer left half-open with tiny socks spilling out, the sound of Jade narrating her own daydreams with dramatic flair. But tonight… the silence settled like a blanket over everything.

You’d just checked on her for the third time. She was fast asleep, mouth open, one arm flung across her stuffed elephant, a foot hanging dramatically off the bed like she’d conquered a mountain. The hallway light spilled over her face, soft and warm, and for a long moment, you just stood there, watching her chest rise and fall.

When you finally padded back to the living room, Jake was still there.

He was curled up on the couch, hoodie sleeves pushed up to his elbows, hair still damp from the shower. His phone lay face down on the coffee table, forgotten. His head tipped back against the cushions when he heard your footsteps, and for a moment, he just… looked at you.

Not like a man who had something to prove. Not like someone waiting for permission to belong.

Just a man who loved you.

You curled up beside him without speaking. Pulled your knees under you, tucked your feet beneath a blanket. The weight of the day clung faintly to your skin, but there was peace here too—in the quiet hum of the AC, the faint city lights slipping through the curtains, the way Jake’s thigh pressed warmly against yours like it never left.

“You okay?” he asked, voice low.

You nodded, resting your cheek against your hand. “Yeah. Just… tired.”

Jake smiled softly. “You’ve been doing everything.”

“So have you.”

He didn’t answer, but you felt the way his gaze lingered. The way his fingers twitched like he wanted to reach for you but wasn’t sure if he could.

“Do you think we forgot how to do this?” you asked, the words slipping out quieter than you meant.

Jake turned to look at you fully, brows furrowing. “Do what?”

You gestured between the two of you. “This. Just… be with each other. No lawyers. No school forms. No talking in circles.”

For a moment, he was quiet. Then he leaned forward, elbows on his knees, voice thoughtful. “I don’t think we forgot. I think we got scared to remember.”

That landed hard. Right in your chest.

Because the truth was… you had been scared. You were scared to feel the softness again. Scared to trust it. Scared to sit beside him like this and admit that part of you still remembered every inch of who he used to be. The boy who used to wake you up with forehead kisses and half-whispered I love yous. The man who knelt beside your belly and called you “mama” long before Jade was born.

So much had happened. So many cracks had formed between what was and what could be.

You shifted, pulled your knees up to your chest. “When you look at me now,” you asked, not daring to meet his eyes, “what do you see?”

Jake blinked. “What?”

You shrugged. “I wonder if… if I’m still the same to you. If you look at me and see the girl you loved or just the one you left.”

The silence stretched.

Then Jake exhaled.

“I look at you,” he said slowly, “and I see the mother of my child. The woman who kept her head up when everything was falling apart. The one who never stopped fighting. Even when I didn’t deserve it.”

You finally met his eyes, and what you saw there nearly broke you.

He wasn’t trying to charm you. He wasn’t saying the right thing. He was hurting with you. He was choosing you.

“Some nights I hate you,” you whispered. “Some nights I miss you so much I can’t sleep. And sometimes… I still love you.”

Jake let out a shaky breath. “I never stopped.”

His hand brushed yours—slow, tentative. When you didn’t pull away, he laced your fingers together like he had all the time in the world.

“Do you think we could get back there?” he asked, voice barely audible.

You were quiet for a long moment, listening to the quiet hum of the room, the distant hum of the fridge, the steady weight of his hand in yours.

“I think we already are.”

Jake looked up at you, something tender flickering in his expression.

Then, without a word, he reached for you. Pulled you onto his lap, slow and sure, like muscle memory. Your legs folded around his waist, your arms curling around his neck. You buried your face in the crook of his shoulder, breathed him in. He still smelled like the same damn soap he always used. Like him.

His hands slid up your back, slow and reverent. One cradled the base of your skull. The other stayed at your waist like he couldn’t quite believe you were real again.

“I missed this,” you murmured, lips brushing his skin.

Jake held you closer. “I missed you.”

You didn’t kiss at first. You just sat there. Held. Breathed. Felt.

And for the first time in what felt like forever—no one was asking you for anything. No one was pulling you in different directions.

It was just you and him.

It was quiet.

And it was enough.

[lacethighs]

gloss & pouts

your sudden interest in lip care has sam winchesters mind working overtime to figure out why you care so much about your lips.

sam winchester is an observant person—almost annoyingly so. he catches details others miss, like how dean ties one shoe twice and the other only once. or how jo avoids eye contact with ellen whenever they argue and later make up.

so when sam starts noticing your newfound obsession with your lips, it sticks with him.

it starts small—watching you through the rearview mirror as you apply and reapply lip balm, layering it like armor. then, in the quiet of motel rooms, he catches you twisting the bottom of a comically oversized vaseline stick, the product so far down it barely peeks out.

he asks about it once, offhandedly.

“didn’t know chapped lips were this big of a crisis,” he teases, leaning against the motel dresser.

you barely glance up. “i just like taking care of myself. one of the more normal things i can do, considering our job.”

it’s a reasonable answer. logical. but it sticks in his mind anyway.

because soon, he starts noticing other things.

like how you ask dean for the impala to make quick pharmacy runs—requests that, unsurprisingly, get shot down. (“not happening,” dean scoffs. “you’d crash her into a walgreens.”) but rather than let it go, you huff and turn to sam instead, and because sam has a habit of giving in where you’re concerned, he takes you himself.

when you return, it’s with a plastic bag full of makeup.

it’s so out of character that dean calls you out on it immediately.

“whoa, since when do you blow cash on this stuff?” he plucks a tube of mascara from the bag, turning it over in his fingers like it’s a cursed object.

you snatch it back with an eye roll. “since always. it’s my money, dean. i can buy whatever i want.”

dean raises a brow, glancing between you and sam. then, because dean never knows when to shut up, he smirks. “you lookin’ for some action or somethin’?”

your scoff is immediate. “jesus, dean. can’t a girl just buy makeup without an interrogation?”

“you’re not just a girl. you’re, well… you.”

sam cuts in before you can throw hands. “leave her alone, dean. makeup or not, she’s still the same.”

it seems to settle things, but when sam looks at you, really looks at you, something flickers in your expression. he just can’t quite put his finger on it.

after that, things shift.

you start spending more time with dean. talking to him more. entertaining his terrible flirting rather than rolling your eyes.

and sam doesn’t know what unsettles him more—the fact that dean notices, or the way it makes something tight coil in his chest.

because the more he thinks about it, the more it starts to click.

the makeup. the new habits. the sudden interest in how you look.

had it been for dean this whole time?

it’s a ridiculous thought. irrational, even. but it sticks like a splinter, irritating and scratching at him. he hasn’t felt this way in a long time. not since jessica.

then one night, he catches you watching him.

you’re standing by the motel mirror, holding a lipstick in your hands. he meets your gaze through the glass for just a second before he quickly ducks his head, pretending to refocus on his laptop screen.

for someone who notices everything, he sure is oblivious. because the truth is, it was never about dean.

it was about him.

you’ve been trying so hard for him—fixing your appearance, mirroring the women you’ve seen him look at in bars, even changing how you dress. if dean noticed, surely sam would too.

but he hasn’t. or maybe he has, and he’s ignoring it.

with a sigh, you step away from the mirror and approach him, leaning over his shoulder to glance at his laptop. the screen is dark, his reflection staring back at him.

“guessing research isn’t going so hot?” you tease, voice light.

sam exhales a short laugh, shaking his head. “you could say that.”

the moment stretches between you.

you’re close. too close.

and for the first time, sam notices everything. the warmth of your breath. the subtle sheen of your lips. the way your eyes study his with something like curiosity, like hesitation.

your gaze flickers lower—to his lips—before you catch yourself, stepping back with a teasing grin. “cute eyes you got, winchester.”

his throat bobs as he swallows. “uh. thanks?”

you chuckle, reaching for your jacket. “dean’s waiting at a bar. gonna see if i can scam some guys at pool.”

the mention of dean makes sam’s stomach drop, the moment shattering.

he forces a nod, glancing back at his screen. “alright. have fun.”

but he doesn’t go back to researching. not really.

instead, he watches you leave, jaw tight, fingers drumming against the keyboard.

because now, he knows. and he doesn’t know what to do about it.

sam doesn’t sleep that night.

he lies awake, staring at the ceiling, replaying every moment in his head—every glance, every touch, every little thing he had brushed off as nothing. but it wasn’t nothing.

and now that he knows, he can’t stop seeing it.

the next morning, you’re the same as ever—teasing dean over breakfast, nursing a cup of shitty motel coffee, talking about how some guy at the bar last night “practically paid you to leave him alone” after a round of pool.

dean laughs, clearly proud. sam, on the other hand, just watches.

because now, every time you smile, every time you absentmindedly run your tongue over your lip, every time you so much as glance in his direction—he wonders.

was that for him? was it always for him? and what the hell is he supposed to do with that?

the next few days are torture.

not because anything has changed—if anything, you seem completely unaware of the effect you’re having on him. which is worse.

it means the problem isn’t you. it’s him.

like right now.

you’re perched on the edge of the motel bed, casually applying something glossy to your lips. it should be harmless. normal.

but sam can’t focus on the research in front of him to save his life.

his eyes keep flicking back to you, to the way your bottom lip shines under the cheap motel lighting, to the way you press them together with a soft little pop.

it’s infuriating.

dean, completely oblivious, doesn’t seem to notice anything out of the ordinary. he just throws on his jacket and stretches. “alright, i’m heading out. gonna grab some food.”

you barely look up. “get me a pie.”

dean snorts. “you’re turning into me. it’s terrifying.” the door shuts behind him, and just like that, it’s just you and sam.

alone.

you sigh, tossing your gloss aside and finally meeting his gaze. “what?”

sam blinks. he hadn’t realized he was staring. “nothing,” he lies, looking away too quickly.

you narrow your eyes. “you’re being weird.”

he exhales, running a hand through his hair. he is being weird. because now, all he can think about is how much effort you’ve been putting into this—into him.

and how much effort it’s taking for him to pretend he doesn’t care.

your brows furrow. “okay, seriously. what is going on with you?”

“nothing,” he repeats, but it’s weaker this time.

you don’t look convinced. then, before he can think better of it, the words are slipping out.

“the makeup. the lip balm. the…” he gestures vaguely at you, flustered. “it wasn’t for dean, was it?”

silence.

his heart pounds. your expression is unreadable, lips parting slightly as if caught off guard.

then, slowly, you straighten. “sam…”

the way you say his name makes his stomach flip.

he swallows hard. “just tell me if i’m wrong.”

a beat. then another.

and then—

you smile. not your usual teasing grin, not the playful smirk you throw dean’s way. no, this one is softer, a little shy. a little triumphant.

“you’re not wrong.”

and just like that, sam is spiraling.

because suddenly, every feeling he’s been trying to ignore—the way his pulse picks up when you’re close, the way he finds himself looking for you in a crowded room, the way you make him feel lighter even on the worst days—comes crashing in all at once.

you were never trying to get dean’s attention. you were trying to get his. and now that he knows?

he’s not sure he can pretend anymore.

for a long moment, neither of you speak.

sam is still trying to process it—the fact that all of this, everything, had been for him. that you’d spent weeks, maybe months, trying to catch his attention, waiting for him to notice.

and now that he has?

he can’t look away.

your lips are glossy, soft-looking, like you’ve just reapplied whatever magic you’ve been obsessively using for weeks. it’s almost distracting.

no, it is distracting. because he keeps wondering what they’d feel like.

and he shouldn’t be thinking about that right now, but damn it, it’s all he can think about.

you tilt your head, amusement flickering in your eyes. “you look like you’re thinking way too hard about this.”

sam huffs out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “yeah, well… guess i’m just realizing how much of an idiot i’ve been.”

that makes you grin. “took you long enough.”

his chest tightens. you’re standing so close now, close enough that he can smell whatever faint, sweet scent lingers on your skin. close enough that if he just leaned in a little—

he stops that thought before it can go any further.

clearing his throat, he shifts awkwardly, trying to will away the heat creeping up his neck. “so, uh… all that lip balm. all the vaseline. that was all just…” he trails off, unsure how to phrase it.

you smirk. “for you? yeah.”

his brain short-circuits.

you don’t give him time to recover. instead, you step forward, so close now that your bodies nearly brush. his breath catches.

and then, with zero hesitation, you press a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

it’s brief, teasing—just enough for him to feel the soft, slick glide of your lips against his skin before you pull back.

but it’s enough to ruin him.

because holy shit—he feels it.

the weeks of lip balm. the endless layers of gloss and moisturizer. your lips are impossibly soft, smooth, warm. it’s like every kiss he’s ever had before this has been a lie.

his thoughts must be all over his face because you laugh, eyes dancing with mischief. “well?” you murmur.

sam exhales sharply. “jesus.”

you raise a brow. “that bad?”

“not even close,” he admits, dazed.

you hum, tilting your head. “wanna see for yourself?”

his heart stutters. and then—you’re kissing him. really kissing him.

and this time, he doesn’t just feel the effects of all your lip care—he tastes them. something faintly sweet, like vanilla or honey, mixed with something that’s just you.

it’s slow at first, warm and gentle, but then your fingers slide up to his jaw, tilting his face just right, and sam’s resolve shatters.

his hands find your waist, pulling you flush against him as he deepens the kiss, drinking you in like he’s been starving for this.

because maybe he has.

by the time you finally pull away, his lips are tingling, and he’s left staring at you like you just flipped his entire world upside down.

which, to be fair, you kind of did. you lick your lips, clearly pleased with yourself. “so?”

sam exhales a breathless laugh, shaking his head. “you win.”

your grin is pure satisfaction. “i usually do.”

and sam doesn’t even bother arguing. because if this is what losing to you feels like?

he’ll take it every damn time.

[delight-angelsbliss]

Hi hi hi!!

My name is Nina/Weewoo,and I saw that your requests were open and I really like your style of writing,so don't mind if I do!!

Can I request some Metal Sonic x Eggman's child!reader (they're g/n if that's okay!) Headcanons?

Like what would Metal be like if he (somehow) fell inlove with Eggman's child? Maybe he was programmed with the thought of protecting them and that developped into love?? Maybe they could have a secret relationship? (Because,let's be honest here,Dr.Ivo Robotnik would probably NOT support this...)

And maybe what is Metal's reaction to Eggman finding out?? (Or maybe Eggman's reaction to them dating in secret,if you're willing??)

Anyways,enough yapping!! I hope you enjoy writing this prompt!!

Don't forget to eat,drink and take breaks!!

Stay proud,

-Nina <33

Precis: egg man's child x metal sonic

Warning: isolation

Notes: finally writing again!! Seeing tiktokers and youtubers say to treat your mom well but then go on to treat her like she's nothing and subtly make fun of them for not knowing a language of the country they're in makes every part of me seethe... Btw do u think eggmans child would be a human or hybrid?? These are a bit shorter seeing to my current situation

Metal sonic isn't one to easily fall in love... Or with his creators child. When metal first saw you, he saw you as someone to protect, not to love. The more metal was with you, the one sided conversations, the late nights. He was there for it all. Metal sonic felt indifferent to it all, he knew you had your bad days. He knew when you needed protection. Metal sonic was assigned to protect you on many occasions, yet it always felt weirdly intimate. The way you clung to him when danger was evident, your full trust, He thought it was so endearing... Endearing? He knew it was wrong, loving his creators child.

Metal sonic didn't know if he could ever confess to you (I mean). He didn't know if you would even like him back. When you did confess, he was ecstatic, even if he technically couldn't feel emotions. You told him to keep it a secret because of your father, knowing he would most likely lash out and turn him into scrap metal. Metal sonic knows how risky this is, but it didn't matter as long as he has someone he loves greatly, someone he will never let go. The first few weeks were the hardest, since you two were at a honeymoon phase, you were the most affectionate towards each other and there many close calls of your father finding you two cuddling, holding hands etc. When somebody questioned why he was with you so much; you simply answered that you were scared of a hostage situation, seeing as it was pretty common for you.

Metal sonic, unlike with anybody else, was gentle with you. You were still the one to protect, so he saw to it that he always was by your side. The one you both could confide in; orbot, was always there to cover for you two. Sadly, he would tell his co-worker/best friend; cubot, who's can't keep a secret. Orbot tried his best to make it work, shushing him, making lies beforehand etc. But sooner or later, cubot would plapper. For now, all you could do was continue your forbidden love with a robot. Love is love, your father has to understand that. Your love for metal sonic would never ever change, if he didn't understand that then surely you'd be better off in a place with more support.

The first time your dad found out, he decided to keep quiet. He started leaving you alone, isolating you from your boyfriend. Slowly, you were isolated from everyone. Every robot. Every person. Every mobian. He knew this was cruel, leaving his child all alone, but what could he do?! Who knows who you'll fall in love with next. Strict parents raise sneaky kids, as they say, in true rebellious fashion; you started sneaking out and sneaking metal sonic in. No matter how cruel your father would become, you'd be stronger.

[bqstqnbruin]

Desire

Look, I know I dropped off the face of the Earth for like three weeks and even my computer was confused when I opened it for the first time in that long, but hey, here we are. This is a fic I actually started last February and never could find the inso to finish.

Anyway, this is for the absolutely lovely @laurenairay for her birthday bingo that my computer isn't letting me screenshot and edit because this thing is too old to do that. BUT I did get bingo by doing Matching Making, Fake Dating, Love Language, and "It's Always Been You." I know I'm posting this on the last day you asked for it but, hey, I got there (I'm not even sure if it's still the 24th where you are, I'm so sorry).

So, happy birthday Lauren! I hope you like this and I hope you have an amazing day love 💛💛💛💛

This is Nico Hischier x Fem!OC ft. Jack Hughes for the drama

Warnings: swearing, drinking, a bad poem that came from here

WC: 5841

__________________________

“How many times do you think we have to go through this before I actually find someone decent?” 

“Statistically, you should have found someone by now.”

“How do you think that helps me?”

Liv came home from yet another disastrous Hinge date, her roommate, Milly, doing nothing to comfort her in the fact that finding love was hopeless when all the good people to date were either way too far away from where they lived, taken by other good people, or simply did not exist. 

“You didn’t ask for me to help, you asked me how long you have to keep dating. I gave you an answer.” 

Liv groaned, flopping down on the couch with her hands over her face. “I hate this.” 

“Are you going to tell me what happened?” 

“Nico wants to hear it too, he’s on his way over.” 

Liv had called Nico from the Uber ride back, just like she always did after a disastrous date, to tell him he needed to come and bring her and Milly wine and ice cream. The routine was unfortunately something that was turning into a once a week affair with every failed outing Liv had gone on. 

Before Milly could say anything else, Nico was opening the door, letting himself in and kicking off his shoes. “You guys really need to start locking the door. One of Liv’s dates could come in and just kill you two.”

“Again, how do you think that helps?” Liv asks while Milly laughs. “I need better friends.”

Nico hands the girls their ice cream, the wine sitting on the coffee table near their feet. “You can’t find a boyfriend, what makes you think you’re going to find better friends?”

“I don’t have to stay here, I have keys and my own car. I can just leave.” 

“If you really wanted to do that, you wouldn’t have called Nico and we all wouldn’t be sitting here. So what happened?” 

Liv started to recount the date, which was a disaster from start to finish. First, her Uber was late, which meant she was going to be late. Then, her date, Spenser, who told her he had made a reservation at the restaurant, actually lied and didn’t make one, and they ended up having to wait an hour for the table anyway, even with her being late. Then, he ordered for her, and wouldn’t let her tell him that not only did she not want what he ordered, she was allergic to one of the main ingredients, so she had to flag the waiter down and tell him to make sure that she didn’t get sent to the hospital. Spenser spilled his drink all over the table, and then got mad when she wouldn’t give him her drink while he waited for a new one. “And, it somehow gets worse.”

Liv watched her roommate and her best friend try to hold back their laughter while they waited for her to finish. This one took the cake for the worst date she had ever been on, easily, and they knew it. Nico’s face was bright red, Milly clutching her sides while Liv just felt more of her heart breaking at the fact that she had another failed outing. She just wanted someone who would care for her the way she saw her brother care for his girlfriend, her sister care for her partner, all her cousins, aunts, uncles, her parents, love their person. 

“There’s no way he did anything else after that,” Milly says.

“He pulled out a poem.” 

Nico nearly chokes on the swig of wine he took. “What do you mean?”

Liv pulled out the piece of paper from her bag. Spenser insisted she keep it as a way to remember him and to make her want a second date. His words. “A poem.” 

“Oh, my god,” Milly squeals, snatching the paper from Liv’s hands and showing it to Nico, bursting into laughter at the sight of what is probably the most ridiculous thing Liv has ever been given. “Did he fucking burn the edges of the paper?”

“Looks like it,” Liv groans. 

“Our love is like a bowling ball, like a brand new Brunswick Red Zone. It rolls and rolls down the alley of desire, and rolls and rolls and rolls. I will keep you out of the gutters, my love, and put my fingers in your holes?” Nico yells at the end.

“No fucking way,” Milly says, continuing to read the horrible thing out loud. “Every kiss, a strike or at least a spare, our future a perfect game.”  

“You know what makes this even worse?” Nico asks through fits of laughter.

“There’s no way it can be worse than, ‘our love is like a bowling ball, our scores will rise and rise. I shall never step beyond the foul line and I will rent your shoes,’” Milly wheezes.

“No, it is. I think he plagiarized it.” 

Liv’s jaw drops. He couldn’t even be bad on his own? He had to look up and purposefully pick a bad poem and take credit for it? It didn’t even make sense. There was no mention of bowling at any point during their conversations before or during the date, and there definitely wouldn’t be any now that the date had happened. 

Nico hands her his phone, the website pulled up with the poem on it, clear as day. “Why did you know this was a thing?”

Nico shrugs, “We get bored in the locker room after practice sometimes.”

“So all guys are fucking weird?” Milly asks. 

Liv interrupts their back and forth with another groan, covering her hands with her face again as she leans back on the couch. “I’m going to be alone forever.”

“No, you’re not.”

“How am I so unlovable?”

“We love you.”

“You don’t count. Am I ugly? Is it that I’m not attractive?”

“I once saw someone say that your face is a combination of hundreds of people who have fallen in love throughout the years,” Milly offers, taking a sip of wine from Nico’s bottle.

“Then why have all of Liv’s exes look like horses?” Nico counters, Milly nearly spitting the wine back out at him.

“That’s uncalled for,” Liv groaned. “Is my personality bad?”

“You literally just keep giving shitty guys a chance, it’s nothing actually wrong with you.”

“I would say that’s a flaw, actually,” Nico points out, earning a smack in the shoulder from Liv. 

“You’re two seconds away from being kicked out.”

“If I go, the wine goes.” 

“Ok, how do we fix your bad dating life, what’s the plan?” Milly pulls the two of them out of their bickering match. She looks at Nico, his eyes locked on Liv despite her looking down at her phone. She smiles, knowing exactly what that look meant. He looked at her like that whenever he thought no one else was looking, especially not Liv. She had caught him looking at her like that every time they were together. “What if Nico takes you on a date so he can show you what you should look for in a good guy?”

Nico’s eyes bug out of his head as he snaps his head towards Milly. She looked at him with a sly smile, one to let him know that she knew what he didn’t want Liv to know. She’s known for a long time, at this point, pretty much since they met him, that he was practically in love with her roommate. He came over after every date Liv had, taking shots at the guys more than Milly did, going through the same conversation every time trying to convince Liv that she deserved more than the guys she was dating. 

“What?” Nico chokes out, praying that Liv doesn’t notice the strangled tone in his voice.

“Yeah, ok,” Liv dismisses before Nico or Milly can keep going, Nico seeing her start to chew on the inside of her cheek. “Aren’t any of your friends single? Statistically speaking, can you have that large of a group of guys and have all of them be taken?”

“We should start a new drinking game where every time one of us uses the word, ‘statistically,’ we take a shot.”

“I work with numbers, what do you want from me? And we can’t afford that kind of hospital bill when we inevitably get alcohol poisoning,” Milly says. “But, yeah, there’s that one guy who always hits on Liv, right? James? John?”

“Jack doesn’t hit on her,” Nico says, glaring at Milly while Liv remained oblivious. 

“Every time Jack sees Liv, everyone knows that he’s undressing her in his mind.”

“And he’s cute, too,” Liv points out, Nico getting jealous at the smile growing on her face. “Set me up with him. Please?”

“I don’t know,” Nico hesitates.

“What’s the worst that could happen?” Milly asks, “They fall in love? Liv can finally stop going on horrible dates? You save money on gas and wine because the currently weekly occurrence of making fun of her bad outings wouldn’t happen as much?”

Nico stammers something unintelligible trying to figure out what to say, looking back and forth between Liv’s pleading face and Milly’s ‘gotcha’ expression. Jack and Liv? He lets out a sigh, “Do you really want me to ask him if he’s interested?”

“Do you think he would take me on a good date for once?”

He could lie. He knows that Jack likes Liv. He knows that Jack wouldn’t do anything to hurt her and wouldn’t purposely take her on a date that sucks, unless his own stupidity got in his way. He could tell her that he was talking to someone else that Nico didn’t know, that he was sure he had someone. But looking at Liv’s face, the more than fifty bad dates running through his mind, watching her recount everyone that ended in the same question of why she wasn’t good enough for a good guy when all he wanted to do was give her a date and a relationship he knew she deserved, he couldn’t tell her that.

“He would probably take you on the first good date you’ve had in a while.”

__________________________

Nico had promised Liv he would talk to Jack about going out with her after their practice the next day. Of course, that led to him having one of the worst practices of his life, his thoughts occupied with his friends going out and potentially falling in love just like Milly had said. An unfortunately vivid picture of the two of them going on a perfect first date played in his mind, followed by more and more dates, Jack eventually being the one she called when she needed or wanted someone to talk to who wasn’t Milly, then moving in together, Nico being at their wedding, standing there while he watched them build the life he wanted with her. 

For fuck’s sake. 

“Liv really wants to date me?” Jack nearly yells, acting like a kid who was just told they could buy any toy they wanted. “Me? Seriously?”

“What are you talking about?” Nico mumbles, already hating that he had to bring it up in the first place. 

“I always thought she was into you.” Nico scoffs, knowing that there was nothing between them despite how badly he wanted something to happen. “You’re the one she calls when she needs something, you’re the one she bee-lines to when we’re out at a bar, you’re the one she texts before and after every game to wish you like, congratulate you, or comfort you if we lose. You’re telling me all of that means nothing?” Jack asks.

“We’re friends.”

“You want more than that.”

“It doesn’t matter what I want,” Nico snaps, walking out of the locker room, Jack at his heels. “Liv wants to go out on one date that doesn’t end in her needing to get drunk while ranting about it to me and Milly.” 

“Why haven’t you asked her out yet?” Jack probes, following Nico to his car. “You want to go out with her, it’s obvious to everyone.”

“Apparently it’s not obvious to her,” Nico mumbles. “Look, it doesn’t matter. She asked me to ask you if you were interested. We all know you like her, too, and you’re the one she wants to go out with. What am I supposed to do?” 

“So you admit you like her.”

“I’m going to run you over with this car.” 

“You can’t do that, we can’t afford to be down two players.”

“Yeah, that’s the only issue that would come of me hitting you with my car.” 

“Nico, just ask her out. I like her, so what? You love her.” 

“She likes you.”

“She loves you.”

“As a friend.” 

“As more. You want more.”

“We’ve been here before.”

“I recognize that tree,” Jack jokes, finally earning a smirk from Nico. “What if I talk you up on the date?”

“Because that wouldn’t be weird.”

“What if I take her on an awful date.”

“Do that to Liv and I’ll do more than run you over,” Nico threatens. “You will either take her on a good date, or you won’t take her out at all. I will not have her suffer through another bad date and watch her be crushed, again, except this time at the hands of the teammate she asked me to set her up with. Are we clear?”

“Aye, aye, captain,” Jack says with a smug look on his face, saluting Nico as he gets into his car.

“I need better friends,” Nico mumbles. 

__________________________

The restaurant was dark and loud, something Liv wasn’t expecting and something she normally hated. It was hard to hear and hard to see, already increasing her anxiety that she was about to have another shitty date to add to the list of reasons and horrible reminiscences that she, Milly,and Nico would have later that night. The worst part is that this date involved someone who was close to Nico, someone he still had to see every single day. 

Jack was already sitting at the table, waiting for Liv and looking nervous. For some reason, that calms her; most of the guys whom she had gone out with had this arrogance about them when she met them as if she should be happy they decided to give her the time of day. 

He finally sees her coming toward her, getting out of his seat to hug her. He did really like her, but he couldn’t seriously date her when it was so obvious that Nico loved her more, could he?

“Have you been here before?” Liv asks him, sitting down and starting to go through the motions of the normal first date that she dreaded. Maybe that was part of her problem; she seemed to relive the same date over and over again no matter who was sitting on the other side of the table. The conversation almost always followed the same mundane script, the guy had an attitude that rubbed her the wrong way, the food she had placed in front of her either wasn’t something she enjoyed or didn’t fill her enough. 

“Nico’s taken a few of us here before after a few times,” Jack explains, a sly smile on his face. He looked like he had a plan, one Liv couldn’t figure out. 

“Nico did?” her ears perk up at the mention of her best friend. 

Jack takes a sip of his water in front of him, nodding, a smirk on his face. “He’s always doing stuff like that, when he’s not with you.”

“What do you mean?”

Jack smirks, the look on his face giving Liv a slightly unsettled feeling. “You know that he’s going to do anything for the people he cares about. We said we wanted to try this restaurant, so he took us here so we could.” Liv nods along. “Just like he’d do anything for you.”

Liv felt a warm feeling rush through her. She could think of all the things Nico would do for her as soon as she asked him. He’s gone as far as Facetiming her during a game because he knew she wasn’t feeling good and Milly was away for a work trip. Not only that, but he was there at her door, ready to spend the night with her so he could take care of her. “He would. He does.”

Jack laughs. “Well yeah, because he’s into you.” Liv raises her eyebrow, raising her water glass to her lips. Nico is her best friend. Jack rolls his eyes, “Oh,come on, you know he’s in love with you.” 

Liv starts choking on her water. “Absolutely not.” 

“Oh please, it’s so obvious.”

“Then why would he set us up?”

“Because he knows I like you and that I’m the guy who wouldn’t hurt you.”

“So you’re saying,” she starts, putting the drink down, “That he likes me so much, he set me up with you because you like me.”

Jack shrugs. “It’s a crush. He gave me a chance.”

“But?”

“But you’re also in love with Nico.” 

Liv laughs. “Please.”

Jack shakes his head. “You can’t see the look on your face when Nico’s name gets mentioned or when you’re thinking about him. If you don’t love him, then whoever you do love is in for a ride with you looking at them like that.”

Liv can feel the heat rushing to her face, their waitress thankfully interrupting them to ask for their orders, as if Liv had even had time to look at the menu in the first place, her mind still swimming with Jack’s words. She and Nico weren’t in love with each other. “Believe what you want,” she tries to pass off her obvious spike in anxiety from his words as anything else, hoping he doesn’t hear the shaking she feels in her voice.

“I believe it, Milly believes it,” Jack starts, ignoring Liv’s scowl. “The entire team believes it. I’m pretty sure our waitress believes it.”

“This is a really shity first date,” Liv mumbles, rolling her eyes at Jack’s laugh.

“I know for a fact that this is still the best first date you’ve had in a while.” Liv rolls her eyes again. “I have an idea for you.”

“Oh no.” 

“Hear me out,” Jack begs, flashing a puppy dog face at her. She sighs and nods, already feeling the headache coming on. “How about you and I pretend that we’re actually dating?”

“What do you mean?”

“We tell Nico that we really hit it off. We pretend that the two of us are actually dating, and it pisses him the fuck off. He finally realizes and admits to you that he’s in love with you, and you two finally get together.”

Liv stares at him, her mouth hanging open. “You have never had an intelligent thought in your life, have you?”

“I had this one, didn’t I?” 

__________________________

“Where the fuck are they?” Nico paces back and forth in front of Milly, repeatedly checking his phone to see if Liv had texted him.

He hears Milly sigh. He stops pacing, staring at his friend sitting on her couch, engrossed in something on her phone. “On the date you set them up on, probably.” 

“This is your fault,” Nico accuses, sitting down next to her on the couch and putting his hands in his face. 

“No.”

“No?”

“No,” she repeats, the same deadpan tone as before. “You are too stupid to ask her out, and because of that, you would rather have set her up with your teammate who likes her instead of do the thing you actually want to do because you’re scared.”

“What am I scared of?”

“Dating Liv and it not working out,” Milly shrugs, not looking up from her phone screen. “Duh.” 

Nico glares at her. “Why am I even here?”

“Because you’re waiting for Liv and I’m the only one who would stop you from driving to the restaurant they’re at and ruining what’s probably the first good date she’s had in years.”

“You can’t stop me.”

“I think you would lose that bet if you made it.” Nico lets out an exasperated sigh, knowing that, unfortunately, Milly definitely had enough willpower and spite to stop him if she needed to. Hell, she could probably do it just if she wanted to. “Check her location if you’re so worried about her.

Nico pulls out his phone, pulling up the app to see Liv and Jack’s bubbles right next to his and Milly's, indicating that they were right outside on the sidewalk. 

Nico ran to the window, the girl’s street facing apartment coming in handy for the drunken hilarity that happened more than once. This time it was handy for making him want to fling himself into a river (he could swim). 

The color drained from his face, something so apparent that even Milly could tell just from his back that he needed to be pulled back in. 

Nico had watched Jack pull Liv in for a kiss, seeing him squeeze her waist and the smile that grew on her face as the girl he wanted more than anything with someone else. Someone he set her up with. Someone he was close friends with, who he knew liked her, too.

“I’m a fucking a idiot,” Nico whines, plopping back on the couch with Milly, finally earning a sympathetic look from her.

“Want to go hide in my room so you don’t have to see her when she comes up?” Milly offers, knowing he won’t accept. Nico shakes his head. “You don’t mess with tradition, right?”

The two of them sit there in silence, Milly turning on the tv in front of them so Nico could have something to drown out his thoughts. They were interrupted by the sound of two familiar voices in the hallway outside the door.

Milly and Nico exchange looks. Liv never brought the guy upstairs. 

Nico could run for it. He was fast. They were on the third floor, easily enough to climb down the fire escapes and the window ledges if he really needed to, right? He could take Milly’s offer up and hide in her room, hoping that Liv didn’t notice his car still parked on the street because she was too enamored with Jack, that the two of them wouldn’t check his location and see that he was still in the building, just feet away.

But he wanted her to notice. He wanted Liv to notice that he was around, just like he always knew when she entered the same room as him. He wanted her to notice that he was there just like he noticed how she scrunched her nose up when she truly found something funny, knowing that she couldn’t hold that kind of laughter in even if she tried. He wanted her to notice because it would tell him that even though she was on a date with Jack, she was still looking for him, just like he looked for her everywhere he went, even when he knew she wasn’t around him. 

“Hey, guys,” Liv comes in, beaming in a way he never saw her before. He could feel his heart splintering at the sight of her hand entwined with Jack’s. 

“So, I take it the date went well?” Milly asks as Jack and Liv sit across from them, Nico wanting to gouge his eyes out every time they inched closer together. 

Jack looks at Liv and smiles. Nico hated this. “Yeah, we’re going out again on Thursday.”

“We’ve got that event that night,” Nico points out.”

“Yeah, Liv’s going to be my date.”

For fucks sake. 

__________________________

The boys leave, Nico first, Jack after the two of them filled in Milly. 

“This is an awful idea, you know that, right?” Liv says when Milly calms down from her laughter. She found it hilarious, much to Liv’s dismay.

“That’s why it’s so funny,” she says, wiping tears from her eyes. “You can’t act to save your life. You think you can convince Nico, the boy who can see through you and knows your every move, that you’re dating Jack and actually enjoying it?” 

“Jack thinks I’m in love with Nico.”

“So he does have a brain.” Liv stares at Milly. “Babe, you and Nico are the only ones who don’t know that you’re in love with each other. You’ve loved him since the moment you first spoke to him, and we know damn well he’s been in love with you since the first moment he saw you.”

Liv shakes her head. “So what?”

“So you two need to stop fucking around and finally date each other. Jack’s plan is surprisingly smart.” 

__________________________

Nico was in hell. 

Jack suggested that since Nico was on the way to Liv’s place, he would pick up Nico and Liv, and the three of them carpool to the event together.

Now, he’s stuck in the back seat of Nico’s car, staring at the center console where Jack and Liv’s hands are, together, while they talk about something Nico couldn’t even be bothered to listen to. 

“I can’t believe you brought me flowers,” Liv gushes, Nico feeling like he was going to vomit when Jack got out of the car, leaving Nico to trail behind up to the girls apartment. He hadn’t noticed the flowers, hadn’t noticed that they were sunflowers, Liv’s favorites. But he had noticed the way her face lit up when she saw Jack, and the way she brightened even more when he handed her the bouquet. 

She was always at her happiest when someone gave her a meaningful gift. Even the worst dates she went on could be brightened when the guy gave her something that she mentioned she enjoyed. He still hated the one book she kept on her nightstand, a copy of her favorite book and movie signed by the author and the cast. 

Now he had to spend the night with them, looking at Liv in a dress that somehow managed to hug every curve on her body in a way that made it look customized to her measurements, while she and Jack fawned over each other. 

He should have had Milly come, too, as his date. At least that way she could give him comedic relief or talk him down from wanting to commit a felony (although, she might encourage it for some drama). 

Nico hadn’t even noticed Jack had left the table to do god only knows what, until Liv sidled up to the seat next to him.

“Why are you being an ass?’

Nico grimaced. She was right, unfortunately. He had barely said more than three words to her. He couldn’t even work up the courage to tell her she looked nice, something Jack had been able to do multiple times in the hour they were together. “I don’t feel great.”

Liv squinted at him. “Why are you lying to me?”

Nico sighed, shaking his head, trying to seem convincing. “I’m not.” 

“Whatever,” she said, getting up, probably off to find Jack.

He should get up to find her. He knew that. 

He found Jack first, standing at the bar waiting for drinks, two already in front of him. “Liv’s not with you?”

Jack shakes his head. “She’s supposed to be with you,” he replies, a knowing smirk on his face that left Nico feeling uneasy.

  Nico shakes his head, trying to scan the crowd for her. He didn’t know why he bothered, he could already tell she left the room. He made his way towards the door leading to the bathrooms, pushing through people who wanted to talk to him despite his lack of interest. He only wanted to find Liv.

“Took you long enough,” she says, Nico coming up to her in the hallway. 

Her snark made him smile, trying to fight the one that threatened to grow on his face. “What’s going on with you?” Liv rolled her eyes, letting out a long sigh. She wouldn’t look at him. Suddenly, his mind went to the worst. “Did Jack do something?”

She gave him a look, immediately telling him he was wrong without having to verbalize it. “We both know he would never.” 

“Olivia,” Nico says, using her full name to be sure to get her attention. “Jack is in there waiting for you.” 

“I know that,” she snaps, clearly getting more agitated. Nico had no idea where this was coming from.

“Then why aren’t you spending your night with him? Why are we out here?”

“I don’t want to be here with him, you idiot.” Nico blinked, not sure if she was done. “Jack is great, but I don’t want to be with him. I don’t care that he’s in there acting like he and I are dating. I care that you don’t seem to care.”

Nico takes a second to process the words coming from her, Liv talking so fast he could barely keep up. “What do you mean, ‘acting?’”

Liv lets out a laugh, a flutter in Nico’s stomach in anticipation for what he hoped she was about to say. “Milly said I wouldn’t be able to keep this up for long.”

“Liv, keep what up? Fill me in, please,” he begs, taking a step closer to her. 

She shakes her head, explaining the whole thing. “Jack and Milly think we’re in love with each other. Jack thought we should pretend to date to get you to finally ask me out.” 

Again, he took a second to process. “What?”

“God dammit, Nico. I love you and everyone is telling me you love me,” she spits out, tears building up in her eyes. She thinks it’s not true. How could she think he isn’t so in love with her, he’s not sure he’ll ever be able to look at someone the same way he looks at her? Liv keeps rambling, but the thoughts in his head were much louder than anything she could be saying right now. He should be listening, but he couldn’t believe that the girl in front of him, the one he knew everything about, the one he would do anything for, didn’t think he was in love with her.

“Liv,” he starts, trying to get her to stop. She doesn’t. “Liv.”

She stops after him saying her name four more times, only when he finally puts his hands on her arms. “You think I’m not just as in love with you as you are with me? God, if you’re in love with me even a fraction of the amount I’m in love with you, I would count myself lucky. I love everything about you, from how you chew on your bottom lip when you’re trying to concentrate, how you bite your left cheek when you want to say something but you’re trying to figure out if you should. I love how your eyes light up when you know someone is listening to you talk about something you’re passionate about, how you make me feel like the luckiest guy in the world just because I get to say I know you.” 

Nico steps closer to her, leaning down to whisper in her ear as people walk by them, Nico wanting these words to be only for her. “I want to push you against this wall and I want you to push me back. I have wanted to punch every guy you have ever gone out with because they were getting to do everything and anything I could ever dream of doing with you.” He steps back when he hears her let out a shuddering breath against his neck, looking at her as she stood there with her eyes closed, a slight smile on her face. 

“If you think I’m not in love with you, that I don’t want to be the one buying you sunflowers, making you your favorite food, being the person you can be in love with, too, then you don’t know me.”

“So,” she starts, chewing the inside of her cheek, making Nico smile. “Are we doing this?”

Nico’s smile grows wider. “God, I hope so,” he tells her, pulling her toward him and finally kissing her.

__________________________

“So, how was it?” Milly asks when Liv opens the door. “Where’s Nico?”

Liv practically throws herself on the couch next to Milly. “He said he was on his way up?”

“Are we really going to wait for him to come up before you tell me how your anniversary date went?”

“It’s tradition.”

Liv knew that Milly hated the tradition at this point, but it had been going on for years. She had to wait for Nico. 

He comes in the door before Milly can say anything else. “Parking on your street is becoming the biggest pain in my ass,” he mutters, kissing his girlfriend on the head before handing off the unopened bottle of wine he bought just for Milly. 

“I knew there was a reason we kept you around,” Milly says, popping open the bottle and drinking straight from it while Nico sits down across from them, ignoring his eye roll. “So, tell me about your big two year anniversary dinner that she couldn’t shut up about until now.” 

“Wait, Jack is coming, too,” Nico says, his phone buzzing in his pocket with notifications that his teammate was on his way up to Milly’s apartment, too. 

“What the fuck?” Milly asks, staring at Liv’s face, trying to read the surprisingly discrete look she was wearing for once.

“We have to wait for Jack, too. It’s only fair,” Liv insists, fidgeting with her hands behind her back. 

Milly groans, downing more of the wine, launching into a rant about making her wait when she just wanted to be in bed with the bottle. Jack finally arrives, much too slow for Milly’s liking, which she wasn’t afraid to tell him.

“Ok, ok, can you calm down?” Jack says, dodging a pillow launched at his face. “I’m here.”

“Tell us about the date, please” Milly begs, clearly getting impatient. 

“It was really good, “ Liv starts, the heat rushing to her face. 

“Oh, come on, you have to give me more than that,” Milly complains. “At least tell me you fucked in the bathroom, or something.”

Nico rolls his eyes. “She can’t be your maid of honor, she’s going to say something like that in her speech,” he looks at Liv.

“She’s going to be my maid of honor unless she’s in jail and not allowed out or in the ground dead.”

“Wait, wait, maid of honor?” Milly asks, finally noticing Liv’s heads folded in her lap. “Holy shit!” she screams, launching herself at her best friend, tears starting to roll down her face when the realization hits her.

“It took you two long enough,” Jack says, staring at the ring on Liv’s left hand. “Since I got you together, does this mean I’m the best man?’

“Absolutely not.” 

[theonottsbxtch]

fix it fic please!! Can we get a happy ending of American Jesus with Logan please! Maybe an epilogue situation? I love love love your writing! ✨

hello! i know some of you are going to hate me because i’m going to prioritise my 2k celly so enjoy this fix it fic for american jesus! i wrote this during the race instead of focusing on my silly little article i was meant to write about the race lol

she’d pictured this moment a hundred times. rehearsed it in her head, imagined what she might say when she finally saw him again. but now, sitting on the other side of the glass, she found she had nothing. just silence and the weight of his stare.

logan looked different. thinner. hollower. the blonde in his hair dulled under the fluorescent light, his blue eyes no longer bright but bruised with something heavier than exhaustion.

"you look like hell," he said, voice rough.

she swallowed, fingers curling in her lap. "so do you."

he huffed a quiet laugh, but there was no real humour in it. just something bitter, something sharp. he leaned forward slightly, elbows resting on the table, the chain of his cuffs clinking against the metal.

"so, what now?" he asked. "you come to see what you did?"

her stomach twisted, but she kept her expression even. "i didn’t do anything, logan."

his jaw tensed. for a second, he looked like he might say something cruel, something that would rip through her like a blade. but then he just shook his head, exhaling slow.

"you know, i really thought you loved me," he murmured.

her breath caught. "i did. i d-.”

his gaze flicked up to hers, something unreadable passing through it. "no, sweetheart," he said, voice quieter now. "you didn’t."

she opened her mouth, then closed it again. because maybe he was right. maybe love wasn’t supposed to feel like a trap, like a thing she had to claw her way out of. maybe love wasn’t supposed to end like this—one of them free, the other in chains.

logan sat back, looking at her properly, like he was seeing her for the first time. after a moment, he let out a soft breath and shook his head.

"goodbye, sweetheart."

she should’ve said it back. should’ve given him that much. but instead, she just stood, turned, and walked away.

she didn’t look back.

one she left she drove back with the window down, air thick with heat and dust, the radio humming something low and mournful. his trailer looked the same as when she left that morning—same peeling paint, same sagging steps, same wind-chime rattling like bones in the breeze. but something about it felt emptier now, like it had finally realised he wasn’t coming back.

she stepped inside, shutting the door behind her. the smell of cigarette smoke still clung to the walls, to the sheets, to the old denim jacket hanging over the back of the chair. she ran her fingers over the fabric, over the worn-out patches and frayed edges. she should’ve thrown it out. should’ve packed up his things and pretended he’d never been here.

but she hadn’t.

she sat down at the table, pressing her palms against the cool metal surface. stared at the lighter still sitting there, the one he used to flick open and shut when he was thinking.

logan was right. she hadn’t loved him. not the way he wanted. but she owed him something. he’d taken the fall for her, let them drag him away in cuffs while she stood there, silent, hands shaking at her sides.

maybe it was guilt. maybe it was something else. but as she sat there, listening to the distant hum of passing cars, an idea started to form.

she needed to get him out.

she didn’t know how yet, but she would. money, a plan, someone on the inside—she’d figure it out. she had to. because if she didn’t, she’d spend the rest of her life hearing his voice in her head, calling her sweetheart like he still meant it.

and she wasn’t sure she could live with that.

- ✨ -

the first time she did it, she almost backed out.

the club was dark, loud, thick with cigarette smoke and cheap perfume. neon lights flickered pink and blue against the walls, music pulsed through the floor, and men sat back in their seats with drinks in their hands and hunger in their eyes.

she stood in the dressing room staring at herself in the mirror, hair curled, lips painted red, a stranger staring back. the other girls barely spared her a glance. they’d seen a hundred girls like her before—small-town thing with too-wide eyes, looking for fast cash and a way out.

she thought of logan. thought of his cuffs clinking against the table, his voice low and bitter as he said, you come to see what you did?

then she stepped out and did what needed to be done.

it got easier after that.

she drove out to the city five nights a week, worked until the early hours, and came home with cash stuffed at the bottom of her bag. sometimes, the men were easy—ones who liked the chase, the tease, who didn’t need much to hand over their money. other times, they were rougher, meaner, hands grabbing too hard, voices slurred with whiskey.

she learned how to handle them. learned when to smile, when to laugh, when to lean in close and pretend like they were the only man in the room. she learned how to make them want her just enough to make them pay.

and the money was good. better than she’d expected. soon, she had a stash hidden beneath the floorboards, thick wads of cash bound with rubber bands.

but money wasn’t enough.

she needed people. connections. someone who could tell her how to do the impossible—break a man out of prison and get away with it.

so she started asking questions. not outright, never directly. but little things. offhand comments, curiosity slipped between drinks and laughter. and eventually, she got what she needed.

it took months to piece everything together.

she paid a guy who knew a guy—someone who worked inside, who could get things where they needed to be. she found a car that wouldn’t be missed, an old ford with rust on the doors but an engine that still ran smooth. she learned the shift rotations, the blind spots, the way the guards got lazy after dark.

it was almost ready. all of it.

one night, after her shift, she sat in her car outside the club, cigarette burning between her fingers. she should’ve felt nervous. should’ve felt afraid. hell, this whole thing was crazy.

instead, she just felt steady.

logan had saved her once. pulled her from a wreck she’d never have crawled out of alone.

now, it was her turn.

-✨ -

logan knew something was wrong the second the guard stopped outside his cell.

it was past lights out, the block quiet except for the occasional shuffle of footsteps, the distant clang of metal doors. no reason for anyone to be here.

yet the guard—hollow-eyed, looking over his shoulder—unlocked the door and muttered, "let’s go."

logan didn’t move. didn’t speak. just sat there, slow-blinking, waiting for the punchline.

the guard sighed, impatience flickering across his face. "you want out or not?"

logan stood, cautious, waiting for the trap to snap shut around his ankles. but it didn’t. the guard led him down the corridor, past slumped bodies and snoring men, through a side door that should’ve been locked. he kept waiting for someone to stop them, for alarms to start screaming, but no one came.

then the cold night air hit his face, and he was outside.

and there she was.

parked at the edge of the lot, headlights off, cigarette glowing between her fingers as she leaned against the hood. she looked different—thinner, sharper, something restless behind her eyes. but still her.

logan scoffed, shaking his head as he walked right past her.

"logan—"

"no." he didn’t look back. just kept walking, boots crunching against gravel. "i’m not doing this with you."

"we don’t have time," she said, voice tight.

"don’t care."

"jesus, logan," she snapped. "you’d rather go back in there?"

"better than being in your debt," he muttered.

that made her pause. then, softer, "i never wanted you in there to begin with."

he huffed a laugh, bitter. "could’ve fooled me."

she stepped forward, reaching for his arm, but he pulled away.

"i did this for you," she said, and she sounded so earnest it made his teeth ache.

he finally turned to her, jaw tight. "why?"

she hesitated. then, voice barely above a whisper—"please, logan. i love you."

he froze.

she’d never said that before. not once. not in all the time he’d known her.

he stared at her, searching for the lie, but all he saw was the same girl who’d sat beside him in the passenger seat of his chevvy, wind in her hair, springsteen on the radio.

for a moment, neither of them moved.

then, finally, logan exhaled. rubbed a hand over his face.

"you got a plan?" he asked, voice rough.

she nodded.

he sighed. "then let’s go."

they drove in silence for a long time, the town shrinking behind them in the rearview mirror. logan slumped in the passenger seat, arms crossed, gaze flicking between her and the road ahead.

"what now?" he muttered.

she didn’t look at him. just pressed her foot a little harder on the gas. "you’ll see."

he huffed but didn’t push. just leaned his head back against the seat, exhaustion creeping in, the hum of the engine lulling him under. he was so damn tired he hasn’t even questioned where she for the car and how she knew how to drive it.

logan woke up to the faint glow of streetlights flashing across his face, the city rolling by in slow, quiet movements. the radio played something soft, something old.

he glanced at her, hands steady on the wheel, eyes fixed on the road like she hadn’t even noticed he was awake.

"where are we?" he mumbled, voice thick with sleep.

"heading west," she said simply.

logan scrubbed a hand over his face. "what happened to my trailer?"

"gone."

he frowned. "what d’you mean, gone?"

"i sold it."

that woke him up properly. he straightened, twisting to look at her fully. "you sold it?"

she nodded, gaze still locked ahead.

"jesus," he muttered, shaking his head. "and my car?"

"waiting for you," she said. "license plate’s changed. shouldn’t draw too much attention."

that made him pause. he studied her for a moment, the way she was just so sure about everything, like she’d been planning this for months.

maybe she had.

"you thought of everything, huh?" he said, half amused, half something else he couldn’t name.

she finally glanced at him then, the smallest smirk playing at her lips. "someone had to."

logan let out a breath, turning back to the window. outside, the city lights started to thin, giving way to stretches of dark highway.

they kept driving, the roads turning quieter, the air growing warmer as they left the place that had swallowed them whole.

- ✨ -

california smelled like salt and sun, the ocean stretching out wide before them as she pulled the car to a stop. logan stepped out, breathing it in, the breeze ruffling his too-long hair.

he turned to her. "so, what now?"

she leaned against the car, lighting a cigarette. "i dunno," she said, exhaling smoke. "thought we could figure it out together."

logan stared at her, something unreadable flickering in his expression.

then, finally, he huffed a laugh, shaking his head.

"yeah," he muttered. "okay."

when they got back in the car, the sun was dipping low over the horizon, casting everything in gold. logan let his hand hang out the window, fingers cutting through the warm air, his mind still trying to catch up with the last twenty-four hours.

she drove like she knew exactly where she was going. no hesitation, no second-guessing. just steady hands on the wheel, the same quiet determination that had always unnerved him just a little.

when she finally pulled up outside a small apartment complex, logan barely had time to take it in before he saw it—his chevy, parked right there in the lot.

his chest tightened. it was still cherry red, still his, but the plates were different. new numbers, clean slate.

she stepped out of the car, keys jingling in her hand. "you coming?"

logan lingered for a second longer, eyes on his car, then followed her inside.

the apartment was small, barely furnished, but it didn’t feel temporary. it felt set. like she’d been waiting for him.

she tossed the keys onto the counter, stretching her arms over her head. "place is ours, mr hunter davidson," she said casually.

logan blinked. "who?"

she turned, smirking, and held out a small booklet. his stomach flipped when he saw what it was. a new id.

his face. a different name.

hunter davidson.

he let out a breathless laugh, shaking his head. "jesus christ, sweetheart."

she just shrugged, already kicking off her shoes. "i’m exhausted," she muttered, rubbing her eyes. "i’m going to bed."

logan barely had time to process before she was gone, disappearing into the bedroom like this was just any other night, like she hadn’t just rewritten both their lives with one movement of her hands.

he stood there for a long moment, staring at the id, at the closed bedroom door, at the life she’d just handed him.

then he sighed, rubbing a hand over his face.

logan caught sight of himself in the floor length mirror leaning against a mismatched sofa and winced. he did look worse for wear. ignoring the door she had just gone through, he opened another one, finding what he was looking for.

a shower.

he took in the room and noticed it was furnished with a few of her products and walked in.

the shower was hot, steam curling around him as he let the water wash away months of prison grime, of sleepless nights, of everything that had clung to him since the moment she turned him in.

when he finally stepped out, towelling his hair dry, exhaustion hit him all at once.

he rummaged around the bathroom cupboards and found she’d bought some underwear. he put on a pair of boxers and a wide beater then left the bathroom.

when he opened the door to the bedroom he found her asleep as he slipped into bed behind her, the mattress dipping beneath his weight.

she was out cold, curled on her side, breathing slow and steady.

logan hesitated, then pressed a soft kiss to her shoulder, fingers trailing lightly down her arm.

"you’re insane," he murmured against her skin. "but jesus, sweetheart, what would i do without you?"

she didn’t stir. just breathed, steady and certain.

logan let his eyes slip shut.

whatever came next, they'd figure it out. together.

the end.

[charlesollielandooscararthur]

Age Gap

Summary:Lewis and y/n’s relationship starts in secrecy, but as feelings deepen, they face scrutiny over their age gap. When he asks if y/n regrets it, She reassures him—this is just the beginning.

You never expected to fall for Lewis Hamilton.

Not like this.

Admiring him from a distance was one thing—who didn’t? He was a seven-time world champion, a legend in his own right, and effortlessly charismatic. But falling for him, actually being with him? That was something you never saw coming.

Yet here you were, sitting across from him in a quiet restaurant, your fingers wrapped around a chilled glass of water, trying to ignore the way your heart pounded. The air between you was thick with unspoken words, the tension undeniable.

Lewis exhaled, rubbing a hand over his beard, something he always did when he was deep in thought. “You know people are going to talk.” His voice was soft but weighted, like he had spent too long thinking about this already.

"They always do," you murmured, tracing the rim of your glass. "Does it bother you?"

His jaw tensed, and he looked away for a moment, as if trying to piece together the right words. "Not for myself," he admitted. "I’ve dealt with the media, the scrutiny, the gossip for years. But you… You’re young. And people will make assumptions. They’ll call it—”

“A midlife crisis?” you finished for him, a teasing smile playing on your lips.

Lewis huffed out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. "Something like that."

You leaned forward, resting your arms on the table. “I knew what I was getting into the moment I started falling for you. Do you think I’d let a couple of headlines scare me off?”

His eyes met yours, dark and searching. "It’s not just headlines, y/n. People can be cruel. I don’t ever want to put you in a position where you feel like you have to justify being with me."

You could see the concern in his eyes, the way he was already trying to shield you from the inevitable. And maybe, in another world, it would be easier to walk away—to save yourselves the judgment, the whispers, the speculation. But what would be the point in that when this, you and him, felt so right?

"Lewis," you started, your voice softer now, "if you’re looking for reasons why this shouldn’t work, you’ll find them. The age gap, the media, our different places in life—there’s plenty. But if you’re asking whether I care? I don’t. Because I know what I want."

His lips parted slightly, like he wanted to argue, to say something rational, but he didn’t. Instead, he just watched you, his expression unreadable.

For weeks, you had danced around this—around whatever this was. The stolen glances, the lingering touches, the way his hand always found yours when no one was looking. He treated you differently, not just like some young girl who had a crush on him, but as someone he genuinely cared for. And that meant more to you than you could put into words.

"I know I might be younger, but I’m not naive, Lewis," you continued. "I know this won’t be easy. But I also know that walking away from you would be harder."

His shoulders relaxed slightly, his fingers tapping absentmindedly against the table. And then, after what felt like an eternity, he reached across the table, his thumb brushing over your knuckles.

"Alright," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "Then let's do this."

Your breath caught, your heart skipping a beat.

"Really?"

Lewis chuckled, shaking his head. "You don’t take me for a coward, do you?"

"No," you admitted with a small grin. "Just a little dramatic."

He laughed at that, shaking his head as he squeezed your hand. "You might regret saying that when the headlines start rolling in."

"Let them roll in," you said, intertwining your fingers with his. "As long as you’re holding my hand through it, I don’t care."

Lewis exhaled, a slow smile spreading across his face. And for the first time that evening, the weight of the world seemed to lift from his shoulders.

"Then I guess we’ve got nothing to worry about."

And just like that, the uncertainty faded, replaced with something stronger—something real.

Because no matter what the world had to say, this was yours.

And that was all that mattered.

The first few weeks after that conversation felt like a dream. It was a whirlwind of stolen moments, hushed phone calls at night, and lingering touches when no one was watching. But the world didn’t stay blind for long.

The first spark of gossip came from a paparazzi photo—just a grainy shot of you and Lewis walking side by side, his hand brushing against your lower back as he guided you through a hotel lobby. It wasn’t much, but it was enough for the internet to do what it did best: speculate.

Then came the real firestorm.

"Lewis Hamilton, 34, linked to 19-year-old mystery girl—Fans question the 15-year age gap." "Lewis Hamilton’s rumored new romance—Is she too young?" "Seven-time champion dating someone who was FOUR YEARS OLD when he made his F1 debut?"

That last one made you roll your eyes so hard you thought they might get stuck.

"I told you," Lewis murmured one evening, flipping his phone face down on the table. His voice was calm, but you could see the tension in his shoulders, the way he avoided your eyes. "People are already picking it apart."

You reached for his hand, lacing your fingers through his. "And I told you—I don’t care."

He looked at you then, studying you like he was searching for any sign of doubt. "I just don’t want you to feel like… you have to defend this. Defend us."

You squeezed his hand. "I don’t have to. If people want to obsess over the fact that we weren’t in the same school year, that’s their problem. I know what this is, and I know how you treat me. That’s all that matters."

Lewis let out a slow breath, his lips curving into a small smile. "You really don’t let anything get to you, do you?"

"Oh, I do," you admitted with a smirk. "But not a bunch of Twitter eggs who still live in their mom’s basement."

That made him laugh, the kind of deep, genuine laugh that made your chest warm.

But of course, it wasn’t just strangers who had opinions.

The first time you met his friends, you were nervous—more than you cared to admit. They weren’t just his friends; they were people who had been in his life for years, people who would see you and immediately think about the age gap.

And they did.

"I mean, she’s literally a child," one of them muttered under their breath at a party, not realizing you were right behind them.

You didn’t flinch, but Lewis did. He turned, his expression unreadable, but his voice left no room for debate.

"She’s not a child," he said evenly. "She’s my girlfriend. And if that’s a problem for you, you can leave."

The room went silent.

You could feel every pair of eyes on you, waiting for you to shrink under the weight of the moment. But instead, you smiled sweetly, tilting your head. "Nice to meet you too."

That shut them up quickly.

Lewis squeezed your hand under the table later that night, murmuring, "I’m proud of you."

You just leaned in and whispered, "Told you I can handle myself."

But not everyone was that blunt.

Your parents were skeptical at first—not because they didn’t trust Lewis, but because, well, he was 34.

"Are you sure this isn’t just… a phase?" your mom asked gently one afternoon.

You sighed, setting down your tea. "Mom. Come on."

"I just mean… He’s been through so much, y/n. And you’re still so young. I just don’t want you getting hurt."

You looked her in the eyes, steady and sure. "I know what I’m doing. I love him."

The words were so easy to say, because they were true.

Your dad was silent for most of the conversation, but later, as you were leaving, he pulled you aside.

"You know I trust you," he said quietly. "Just… make sure he knows how lucky he is to have you."

That part, at least, you didn’t have to worry about.

Despite the growing speculation, Lewis kept things private—until one day, he didn’t.

It wasn’t planned. There was no PR strategy, no carefully curated soft launch. Just an offhanded moment in an interview that changed everything.

"So, Lewis," the interviewer grinned, "the internet’s been buzzing about your love life. Anything you’d like to clear up?"

Lewis chuckled, shaking his head. "Ah, man, you lot don’t miss a thing, huh?"

The interviewer leaned in. "So is it true? Are you seeing someone?"

Lewis hesitated, just for a second. And then, with a small smile, he said, "Yeah. I am."

Twitter exploded. Instagram went wild. And your phone? It nearly combusted with notifications.

Lewis called you that night, the smile evident in his voice. "Guess the secret’s out."

"Yeah," you laughed. "Took you long enough."

He sighed playfully. "So… are you regretting this yet?"

You rolled onto your side, staring at the ceiling. "Not even a little bit."

There was silence on the other end, just the sound of his soft breathing.

Then, quietly, he murmured, "Me neither."

And in that moment, with all the noise of the outside world fading into the background, you knew—this was just the beginning.

[am0ralexis]

You (fluff and comfort) 🩷❤️‍🩹

Alex lay in bed, his eyes glued to his phone as he scrolled through his gallery. Every so often, he paused to savor a photo of you—simple snapshots that weren’t overtly provocative, but captured something far more precious. One picture caught his heart: your eyes shimmering in the sunlight, your smile so genuine it could light up any room. He lingered on the image of you feeding ducks at the park, your laughter and bright smile immortalized in a moment you never even knew he had captured. That day was one of his favorites, a cherished memory he replayed in his mind.

With a heavy sigh, he rested his phone on his chest, allowing the enveloping darkness of his quiet bedroom to close in around him. It was 1:26 AM—another long, sleepless night loomed, one he dreaded facing alone.

You and Alex had been living together and loving each other for nearly a year now, but tonight you were away on a work trip while he remained in the apartment. The last time you were apart, he had spiraled into a deep depression that nearly broke him. Neither of you wanted a repeat of that agony.

“She promised she’d call as soon as she could. I know she will. Come on, Alex—get your shit together. Don’t fuck this up again,” he muttered under his breath, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

He barely knew how to function without you, and it hurt him deeply. He despised how desperately he needed you—yet the truth was, he couldn’t imagine life without you. You were his best friend, his confidante, the person he trusted with his innermost thoughts and feelings, the one he loved with every fiber of his being. And he hoped, with every ounce of his heart, that you needed him just as much.

Reaching for his phone again, Alex resumed his silent ritual of scrolling through photos. Among them were a few pictures you’d begged him to delete—not because they were inappropriate, but because you felt self-conscious about how you looked. He had promised you they were gone. But they weren’t.

He navigated to the secret folder labeled “My Beloved” and couldn’t help the smile that crept across his face. There were photos of you sleeping on his chest, a bit of drool marking a tender memory, goofy snapshots of you making silly faces at the camera, and candid moments of laughter that you’d claimed distorted your features. One video, recorded without your knowledge, played back a moment when you were beside him on the couch. In that video, you had sighed at his constant distraction with your phone, chiding, “You’re always on your goddamn phone—what are you even doing? More work?”

Though the video had ended, the memory of your exasperated yet loving look warmed his soul. He couldn’t help but wonder if you were thinking of him too. But your call hadn’t come yet, and his mind spiraled into painful possibilities. Were you with someone else? Had you found someone less clingy? No—stop it, Alex. This was pure fucking torture.

His thumb hovered over your contact, Cariño ❤️, as his mind raced through both hopeful and fearful scenarios. And then, his phone rang with a FaceTime call from you.

Without a second thought, he answered. Your radiant face filled the screen.

“Lexi, hi! I miss you! How are you doing?” you asked, your eyes sparkling like stars outside his window.

Alex cleared his throat and sat up a little, trying in vain to mask his inner turmoil. “Um… hey. I’m doing okay, but I miss you too, so much.”

Your face softened immediately, and he could see the concern flicker in your eyes. You tilted your head slightly, studying him through the screen. You always had a way of seeing right through him, no matter how hard he tried to fake it.

“Lex,” you murmured gently, your voice barely above a whisper. “You’re not okay.”

He exhaled shakily, pressing his lips together to keep them from trembling. His fingers flexed against the phone, gripping it a little tighter, as though that could somehow bring you closer. He gave you a small, lopsided smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“I just…” His voice cracked, and he shook his head, blinking quickly. “I just miss you more than I know what to do with.”

You let out a soft breath, your expression melting into one of pure tenderness. “Oh, baby.” You pressed your fingers to your lips, as though blowing him a kiss through the screen. “I miss you too. So, so much. I can’t wait to come home to you.”

“Me either.” His voice was barely above a whisper now. His free hand absently tugged at the hem of the blanket draped over his legs, a nervous habit you knew all too well.

You shifted slightly, adjusting your phone, and the image shook for a moment before steadying again. He caught a glimpse of the hotel bed behind you, the one that must have felt so empty without him. You were wearing his old hoodie—the one you always stole from him when you were cold or just wanted to feel closer to him. Seeing you in it made his throat tighten.

“You’re wearing my hoodie,” he blurted out, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

You looked down at yourself, then back at him with a playful grin. “Of course I am. It still smells like you.” You pulled the collar up to your face and inhaled deeply, closing your eyes for a second. “I kinda wish I never had to give it back.”

“Keep it,” he said softly, his eyes never leaving yours. “I want you to have it. Always.”

Your face softened even more, and you let out the smallest, sweetest sigh. “God, Lex. You’re gonna make me cry.”

“Sorry,” he murmured with a sad little chuckle, running a hand through his hair again. “Didn’t mean to be all… clingy.”

“Hey, stop that.” Your voice was suddenly firm but still so gentle. “You’re not clingy. You’re my person. I want you to need me, just like I need you.” You paused, leaning in a little closer to the screen. “And you do know I need you, right?”

He blinked a few times, swallowing hard. “Yeah,” he whispered, but it came out hoarse.

“No, babe.” You shook your head slightly, your eyes burning into his, as though you were trying to will your words into his heart. “I need you. Like… really need you. There’s no one else in the world who makes me feel as safe and loved as you do. You’re it for me.”

His breath hitched, and he shut his eyes for a brief moment, overwhelmed. He pressed his lips together, trying to hold back the emotion rising in his chest, but when he opened his eyes again, they were glassy.

“Fuck, I love you,” he rasped.

Your smile turned impossibly tender, and he saw the shimmer of tears in your eyes too. “I love you too, Lex. More than anything.”

For a while, neither of you spoke. You just stared at each other through the screen, soaking in the sight of the person you missed so much it physically hurt. It wasn’t enough—not even close—but it was something. And for now, it was everything.

“Hey,” you finally whispered. “I’m not going anywhere, okay? I’ll be home before you know it. Just hang in there for me, baby.”

He nodded, brushing his knuckles against his damp cheek, exhaling shakily. “I will. Promise.”

You gave him a sleepy, reassuring smile. “Good. Now… will you stay on FaceTime with me until we both fall asleep? Like we used to?”

His chest ached at the memory, but he nodded again. “Yeah,” he whispered. “I’d love that.”

And so, with his phone propped up beside him and your soft, steady breathing filling the quiet space, Alex finally let his eyes drift shut. The loneliness wasn’t gone, but with you there—your voice, your face, your love—it was a little easier to bear.

[purinbunnii]

Swipe Right – Part 12

The weight of your husband’s missed call sat heavy in your lap, your phone dark and silent against the palm of your hand. You could still feel Gojo’s lips on yours, the ghost of his touch against your skin, but the moment had shifted.

You weren’t just someone sneaking around anymore.

You were gone, and your husband knew it.

Gojo leaned back against the couch, watching you with those impossibly blue eyes, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips. “You’re thinking too much.”

You sighed, tossing your phone onto the table. “Maybe because I have a lot to think about?”

His fingers found your knee, tracing slow circles against your bare skin. “Tell me what’s going on in that pretty head of yours.”

You hesitated. What was there to say? That everything was unraveling? That your marriage was collapsing faster than you had expected? That despite all of it, you didn’t feel broken—you felt free?

“I should feel worse about this,” you admitted.

Gojo hummed. “But you don’t.”

You shook your head. “No. And I think that scares me more than anything else.”

He let out a quiet chuckle, leaning in until his lips were just inches from yours. “Sweetheart, the only thing scary about this is how long it took you to walk away.”

You opened your mouth to argue, to insist that you hadn’t really walked away, but the truth was, you had. Maybe not legally, maybe not officially, but emotionally?

You had left your husband a long time ago.

Your phone buzzed again, and this time, you couldn’t ignore it.

Husband: Pick up the damn phone.

You exhaled sharply, fingers tightening into a fist before finally standing up. Gojo raised an eyebrow but didn’t stop you as you walked toward the window, staring out into the city lights as you hit call.

The phone barely rang before he answered.

“You’re with him, aren’t you?”

The accusation in his voice sent a thrill through you—not of fear, not of shame, but of power.

You turned, meeting Gojo’s eyes. He was watching you with open amusement, arms stretched across the back of the couch, completely unbothered.

“What does it matter?” you finally said, keeping your voice level.

Your husband let out a bitter laugh. “So you’re not even going to deny it?”

You exhaled. “What do you want me to say? That I’ve been faithful? That I’ve been waiting at home like a good wife while you stayed out with her?”

Silence.

Then, finally—“I didn’t think you had it in you.”

That stung. More than it should have.

But you weren’t the same woman he had ignored for years.

You smiled, slow and deliberate. “Guess you never really knew me at all.”

Gojo let out a low whistle from the couch, clearly listening to every word.

Your husband inhaled sharply. “You think this is a game? You think I’m just going to let you embarrass me like this?”

Gojo stood, stepping behind you, his hands resting on your hips. His voice was smooth as silk as he murmured, “Put it on speaker.”

You hesitated—just for a second—before doing exactly that.

“Go on,” you said, voice steady. “Say what you need to say.”

Your husband’s silence stretched, the weight of it pressing down. Then:

“You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.”

Gojo smirked, tightening his grip on you, his voice laced with amusement as he finally spoke directly to your husband.

“Oh, I think she knows exactly what she’s doing.”

Your husband’s sharp inhale echoed through the phone.

And for the first time in your life, you weren’t afraid.

[whatstruthgottodowithit]

Five Minutes To Forever

Fandom: Elvis Presley, American Musician

Pairing: Elvis Presley x Addison Goodwin

Characters: Elvis Presley, Addison Goodwin, Jessie Goodwin Presley, Lisa Marie Presley,

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 3950

Summary: A bride never gets a minute on her wedding day.

Tags/Warnings: Fluff, Weddings, Wedding Day, Proposals, Blended Family, Kissing, Love, Little Lisa, Single Parent, Absent Parents,

Notes: This will probably be the last in the elvis/addison series

ELVIS MASTERLIST // ELVIS AND ADDISON MASTERPOST

Addison felt eerily calm. Even as she looked out the window down at the yard below and watched people rush about making sure everything was in place. She could see Joe directing folks to their cars, hurrying them along so that there would be at least someone at the church when they got there. She could hear the kitchen staff working away to fulfil their tasked menu for when a flock of ravenous wedding guests would return awash with matrimonial merriment and no doubt a glow that could only be procured from the hip flask of a tuxedo. And she could hear her family, the chaos of them running around just beyond her bedroom door, her daughter like an army general as she called for order and propriety.

And even though it was hectic and a glance at the clock told her they were at least five minutes behind schedule, she didn’t care. She didn’t know why. Maybe it was because she knew everything was planned within an inch of its life and no matter what went wrong, Elvis would smooth it out. Though she suspected it was due to the fact she was already a married woman, so no matter what happened, she was already wed, even if their chapel wedding was a memory for just the pair of them.

She was thinking of that little chapel and then their hotel room, where it had just been the two of them, when there was a knock at the door.

‘Come in,’ Addison said, smoothing out her dress as she checked the mirror one last time. The door opened, revealing a mop of shaggy blonde hair before Jerry slipped through, fiddling with the cuffs of his tuxedo as he whistled and said, ‘Wow, you look beautiful.’

‘Thanks Jer,’ Addison said as he moved towards her, embracing her gently as she said, ‘Everything good to go?’

‘Not yet,’ Jerry said as he pulled back.

‘Why, what’s the matter?’ Addison asked, the first seed of worry starting to bloom until Jerry shrugged.

‘Oh nuthin’. But you know EP; he keeps to his own schedule and today’s no different,’ Jerry chuckled.

‘Ah,’ Addison smiled knowingly. He was right; she did know Elvis. Better than anyone, and he shouldn’t have been surprised he’d still be moving to the beat of his own drum even today. After all, he was so used to doing it without pushback for years that it had been a hard habit to break, even if Addison had helped him break that habit just a little.

Though as unfazed as she was, Jerry still tried to provide comfort by adding, ‘Don’t worry, Jess is trying to hurry him up.’

‘I don’t doubt that,’ Addison mused, though, as the conversation lulled, she realised she didn’t know why he was here if not to herd her out to the cars. Curious, she asked, ‘So…everything okay?’

‘Yeah,’ Jerry said, shifting awkwardly. Addison watched, surveying him quietly as he rubbed the back of his neck and said, ‘Actually…no.’

‘What is it?’ she asked, somehow not panicked because she could tell it was nothing to do with the wedding. No, he had the nerves of a younger man, a fifteen-year-old she once knew, one that was still unsure and nervous when it came down to it. This was about Marci, she was sure.

‘It’s…nothing, never mind. Now’s not the time,’ he said, shaking his head, ‘you’re busy.’

‘Kinda,’ she said, smirking as she nudged his hand. Jerry sighed.

‘I just wanted to do it now because you’re not gonna be around after the wedding, well, not a lot, so it’s just…’

‘Jer!’ she said, after all, she had an aisle to get down, and dancing around a subject wasn’t going to get her to the end of it any sooner.

‘I want, I’m going to ask Marci to marry me,’ he said in a rush.

‘What?!’ Addison beamed, ‘Jer that’s amazing!’

‘Do you think she’ll say yes?’ he asked, a smile already in his eyes.

‘I hope so,’ Addison said. She wanted to say yes, but Marci was a law unto herself, so she didn’t want to make any false promises, ‘In fact, you should ask her tonight.’

‘Nah,’ he said, waving his hand in dismissal, ‘it’s your day.’

‘So?’ Addison said, ‘Plus she’ll never be able to wait till the end of my honeymoon to tell me, so if you do it today then she can tell me before we go.’

‘That’s true,’ Jerry said, ‘I’ll at least let you get to the cake cutting first though.’

‘Sounds fair to me,’ Addison said, leaning in to hug the man. As he pulled back there was an errant shout that sounded like a garbled version of his name coming from somewhere in the house. No doubt Marci was wondering where he’d gotten to.

‘I better go,’ he said, patting her shoulder, ‘you look lovely by the way.’

‘Thank you,’ she said, ‘now go. The sooner we get the show on the road; the sooner you can pop the question.’

Jerry beamed and headed to the door and slipped out, allowing the chaos of the house to float through the crack just for a moment before it fell silent. Addison turned to the mirror and watched herself, brushing the hair that had fallen across her shoulder when they’d hugged back into position. Just as she did, the sounds of the house floated into the room once more. She turned, expecting it to be Jerry again, but it wasn’t it was Marci.

‘Hi, have you seen Jer?’ she said as she came into the room, looking harried yet stunning.

‘Nope,’ Addison smiled, trying not to look too knowing.

‘Oh where has he got to? We need to be leaving in a moment… Oh, Addie, you look beautiful,’ Marci said as she looked at her properly and finally took her in.

‘Mar, you literally saw me like half an hour ago,’ Addison said, rolling her eyes. After all, celebrity stylists were all well and good, but Marci had been her hair and beauty expert since she was thirteen. She wasn’t going to have anyone else style her on her wedding day.

‘I know,’ Marci said, dabbing at her eyes in what had to be at least her fourth tearful moment of the day so far, ‘but you do.’

‘Well, thank you,’ Addison said.

‘I just…I can’t believe we’re here,’ Marci said, watching her friend wistfully. Addison smiled and turned back to the mirror, the flashes of all the turmoil they’d been through going through her mind just for a second before it was flooded out by all the good. All the possibilities of the future.

‘Me too,’ Addison said, ‘it feels unreal.’

‘I know,’ Marci said, fiddling with her veil behind her, ‘are you sure you’re ready?’

‘Mar!’ Addison chastised, turning around her face agog. Marci rolled her eyes, though Addison was surprised she was joking about it, given her history of being a flight risk.

‘I mean it. Last chance to run,’ Marci said seriously, ‘I mean, I’ll kill you if you do, but I wouldn’t be your best friend if I didn’t at least offer.’

‘No, I’m good. No more running. It was only ever him I was running from in the first place,’ Addison said, if only due to the fact they were already married.

‘Yeah and even if you did, you two would probably end up running into each other again in your fifties or something. And there isn’t enough bleach in the world to get rid of the grey hairs that would give me,’ Marci giggled.

‘Yeah, probably,’ Addison said. Given they shared a child, both of them knew about now; it was hard to imagine they’d ever be living separate lives again, but she could see Marci’s point. Their lives had always found a way to intertwine themselves, no matter how many years between seeing one another.

‘Well I’m glad you’re saving us all the trouble,’ Marci said, turning her back around so that she could fiddle with her dress though Addison was sure it was fine, ‘even if you are leaving me all alone.’

‘You’re not alone,’ Addison protested, watching her friend in the mirror as she fussed around the bottom, unfurling tulle and lace carefully. Marci smiled in a way that suggested she had never thought that in the first place but rather that she was laying the foundation for something else, which Addison realised as she said, ‘No, I know… In fact, I think he might propose.’

‘Really?’ Addison said, a smirk on her face that Marci missed as she focused on her dress.

‘Yeah, he was being really weird the other day, and I know he and El went shopping at Lowell’s recently, and you have nothing new, so I figured,’ Marci said.

‘So…would you say yeah?’ Addison probed.

‘Duh!’ Marci said, finally pulling up with a beaming smile on her face.

‘Okay! Just asking,’ Addison said.

‘In fact I better get planning now. I’m gonna lose three weeks with you on honeymoon,’ Marci said.

‘Well, I’ll be ready to enlist the moment I get back,’ Addison smiled, ‘and I’m sure Jess can take on another wedding.’

‘Oh, of course!’ Marci beamed, ‘But first it’s your big day. And until it’s over, I’ll still be in full wedding planner mode, so I’m gonna go find him and get everyone ready to go.

‘Okay,’ Addison smiled watching her friend as she waltzed to the door; though as her hand touched it, she called her name, forcing the blonde to turn, ‘I love you.’

‘I love you too, Addie,’ she beamed before she flitted out.

Though in true Marci fashion she didn’t shut the door completely, her thoughts on something else leaving chaos in her wake, so Addison moved to shut it herself, daring to afford herself a few more minutes of peace, though as she got there she found a pair of blue eyes watching her through the gap. Lisa looked cute, with her pastel purple dress highlighting her vibrant eyes and complementing her sun-kissed skin and emboldened golden locks. Though completely unlike herself, she was quiet and reserved.

‘Hey, doll,’ Addison said, opening the door to her and allowing her to step in. Her reservedness still lingered, which shocked Addison, though she said nothing, figuring it was the hubbub of the day that had got her out of sorts. Instead, she went back to the mirror and beckoned her over, ‘C’mere and look in the mirror with me.’

Lisa strutted in, her natural swagger not completely lost, and took a stand in front of Addison, watching them both in the mirror. Addison swept her hands down her hair, smoothing the strays that had come from the humidity of the Tennessee summer. It never failed to amaze Addison just how much she looked like Jess, or even Elvis, when she was like this, though admittedly in the year they’d been in each other's lives, she had only seen it a handful of times.

‘You look pretty,’ she said after a moment, tilting her head back and looking up at her soon-to-be stepmother at an angle she was sure was unflattering.

‘Me?’ Addison said, ‘What about you? You look beautiful.’

‘Addie?’ she asked.

‘Yeah?’ Addison said.

‘Does gettin’ married mean you’re my mommy now?’ she asked, her face pensive.

‘Well, no,’ Addison said, sensing where this was headed.

‘But when Mommy and Daddy were married, we were a family,’ she mumbled, ‘how are we a family if you’re not my mommy?’

‘Well, I am... your stepmom,’ Addison said, taking a seat on the bed. Lisa moved to flop against her, the fabric of Addison's wedding dress making it hard for her to perch on her knee, which meant she had to rely on her stepmother to hold her up as she clung to her.

‘But you’re Jessie's real mom,’ she muttered, ‘and Daddy’s her real daddy.’

‘There isn’t no real and not real, baby,’ Addison said, moving a golden wisp from her face, ‘we’re a family. Me, you, your daddy and Jessie. And you, your daddy and your mom are a family too.’

‘But families live together, and Jessie gets to live with you, and I have to live in California,’ she muttered, dropping her gaze to Addison’s necklace, her fingers fiddling with it nervously.

‘Oh, baby, you know we’d love for you to live here. Your dad would kill for it, but it’s up to your mom. And you wouldn’t want to leave her alone in California, would you?’ Addison said. She knew Elvis hated his baby girl being so far away, but she’d been in Priscilla’s shoes before when she’d only ever had Jess. It’s why she didn’t really interfere in Lisa’s parenting all that much.

‘I guess,’ Lisa said.

‘Besides your daddy’s been so busy this year we’ve hardly been here at all, but once the wedding’s done with, things will settle down. Jessie will settle into school properly, and we’ll be able to get a proper schedule together. How’s that sound?’ Addison bargained. It was true that in the year they’d been together, it’d been hard to get things into a ‘normal routine’. Getting out of the Colonel’s contract had meant more touring to generate money and a longer residency in Vegas to get Addison and Jess ready for the move to Memphis. Lisa had slotted in here and there, something that her frown indicated she wasn’t quite okay with, especially as she mumbled, ‘Promise?’

‘Oh I promise,’ Addison replied, stroking her hair gently just as Jess appeared at the door.

‘There you are!’ She said, looking harried and stressed.

‘Everything okay, Jessie?’ Addison asked.

‘Yeah, all the cars have gone to the church; it’s just the girls left behind, and I thought I’d lost her,’ Jess said, frowning at her baby sister, ‘She wandered off.’

‘I was bored,’ Lisa said. Jess looked as though she wanted to argue but refrained, no doubt due to the time constraints they were under. Instead, she looked at her mother in a serious manner that told her she wasn’t in daughter but wedding planner mode. Addison interjected before a sisterly squabble broke out, ‘Well, we’re gonna be headed to the church now, so how about you head downstairs and make sure you’re not left behind, huh?’

‘Okay,’ Lisa said, though she looked miffed at being dismissed as she toddled past her sister and downstairs. Addison smiled at her daughter and asked, ‘Are you going too?’

‘Yeah, in a second,’ Jess said, pausing before she said, ‘Actually, I just wanted a minute alone with you.’

‘Okay,’ Addison said, beckoning her in. Jess moved quickly into the room, shutting the door behind her before she took a seat beside her mother on the bed, looping her arm through hers as she rested her head on her shoulder and closed her eyes. Addison watched her in the mirror.

‘Everything okay?’ Addison asked, after a moment. Jess sighed and then opened her eyes to find her mother watching her.

‘Yeah, I just wanted a moment… just the two of us,’ Jess admitted, leaning up from her mother's shoulder, ‘Today we become a four forever, and I love it. Don’t get me wrong, but… we’ve always just been a two, and I kind of miss that.’

‘Me too,’ Addison admitted, thinking back to all the times it had been just them. Of course they’d had Marci, and this year and a half with Elvis had been unbelievable and truly what she yearned for, but those simple times, those moments that were just her and her daughter, she couldn’t help but miss them.

‘But you’re happy, right?’ Jess asked.

‘Beyond happy,’ Addison affirmed, ‘and actually I wanted to thank you.’

‘Me?’ Jess asked, her brow furrowing, ‘Why?’

‘Well if it hadn't been for your little investigating stint, then all of this would never have happened. You sneaking out, you pushing to see your dad, you pushing me to not give up on him… if you hadn't done that, then I’d have missed all this. I’d have pretended I was okay with it when actually I was missing out,’ Addison said, ‘so thank you.’

‘Well thanks for listening,’ Jess replied, clasping her hand over her mother’s.

‘Eventually,’ Addison said.

‘Yeah, but I get why you were reluctant at first. Actually, I think it probably worked out better this way,’ she admitted.

‘Really?’ Addison asked sceptically.

‘Yeah, I mean, this way I got a normal childhood and two of the best moms I could’ve asked for, and I get my dad without the craziness,’ she said, rolling her eyes when Addison raised an eyebrow, ‘well half the crazy. Plus, if it had been any other way, we wouldn’t have Lisa.’

‘Yeah and I bet she’d have something to say about that,’ Addison giggled.

‘I bet,’ Jess giggled before her smile turned earnest as she said, ‘I love you, Mom.’

‘I love you too, baby,’ Addison said, touching her cheek gently before she said, ‘Now come on, at this rate we’re definitely going to hold the wedding up.’

‘I’m going,’ she said, rising from the bed, ‘are you coming?’

‘I’ll be a minute,’ Addison said, ‘just need to pop my shoes on. I’ll meet you downstairs in two ticks.’

Jess nodded and ducked out, closing the door behind her as Addison stood and moved to slip her shoes on before standing in front of the mirror. She’d already seen her appearance a dozen times today, not to mention being handed a litany of compliments by everyone who walked through that door to disturb her, but she had to admit every time she saw herself, she did feel pretty. Her hair was down, framing her face in waves, though the rest was hidden by a long lace veil with an intricate beaded design all around the edge. Her dress was simple, a square neckline that descended into a tiered skirt which her satin heels poked from underneath.

It was simple and elegant, and she loved it, and if she was being honest with herself, she hoped Elvis did too. It was true they were already technically married and that this was more of a show for their loved ones than a wedding, but she still wanted him to like it.

‘Wow,’ she heard a voice say, and when she turned around, she found Elvis in the doorway, having somehow slipped silently into the room without knocking. He was watching her in awe, his blue eyes light and his mouth open as he drank her in.

‘You’re not supposed to be in here,’ Addison said, though her tone was nothing but teasing.

‘It’s my house,’ he replied, ignoring any protestations that might be made about bad luck or the fact the car was due to leave imminently as he closed the gap between them in seconds and engulfed her, a playful smile dancing on his face. Addison wrapped her arms around him.

‘You look beautiful,’ he said, making her chuckle as she replied, ‘You don’t look so bad yourself.

Though his sense of style had grown exponentially over the years, his outfit was rather toned down. A simple black tuxedo with a boutonniere on the lapel providing a splash of colour. She thumbed at it, wafting the faint scent of roses into her nostrils for a moment. He looked gorgeous too. He’d still got a tan from the summer, which was enhanced by the black and white of his suit. And though the year they'd spent back together meant that this new rugged face was the one she was familiar with and still obscenely attracted to, his hair was different than she had become accustomed to, swooped back into the styles he’d favoured when they’d first gotten together.

‘I like the hair,’ she said, moving her hand to trace along it. Elvis took her hand and kissed it, holding it between them as he pulled her closer.

‘I thought I’d try something…old,’ he smiled.

‘Well, I like it,’ she replied. And truthfully she did. It was familiar, like he was just her Elvis again. Like they were just two normal people getting married. Those two kids from Memphis.

‘Well I like all of this,’ he said, gesturing with the hand she was holding to her attire, ‘in fact, if you weren’t already my wife, I’d drop to my knees and propose right now.’

‘I’m sure you would,’ she giggled, ‘though if we want people to know I am actually your wife, we need to actually have witnesses. I thought you’d all gone to the church.'

‘Everyone’s gone; it’s just me and Jer left,’ he shrugged, ‘I wanted to see you.’

With that he leaned in, kissing down her cheek and jaw until his mouth was caressing along her neck, making her shiver as she breathed, ‘I don’t think we’ve got time.’

‘They’ll wait,’ he murmured, the vibrations his lips made leaving a delectable feeling on her skin.

‘Elvis,’ she said, attempting to sound firm.

‘Hey if I say we have two minutes, then we have two minutes,’ he said, pulling back to look at her.

‘You mean folks will wait around for ya cause you're Elvis Presley,’ she ribbed, a smug smile on her lips. Elvis chuckled.

‘Are you tellin’ me this whole King of Rock and Roll schtick still ain’t impressed ya after all these years?’ He asked.

‘I’m a hard girl to please,’ she joked.

‘I’d say otherwise,’ he said, his voice practically a growl that cut off whatever quip or protest she was going to throw back at him before she was completely silenced by his lips. He kissed her like they’d been apart for months rather than a matter of hours, pulling her as close as he could physically get her, and she let him, though she knew it was ruining her lipstick.

When they finally managed to part, her chest was heaving, her oxygen levels fully depleted and replaced by love and lust. Elvis didn’t seem as knocked out; the smugness he’d acquired at getting her all of a flutter was his overruling emotion.

‘Told ya we had two minutes,’ he grinned. Addie attempted to shove him, but he grabbed her hand and pulled her back in closer. And to his surprise, she didn’t make any retaliative quip or challenge him. She simply replied, ‘Honey, we have forever.’

It took him off guard, his heart thudding like he was a teenager having his first crush, though he knew that was a given. He’d been in love many times, even married, and yet no promise had felt truer than her words then. This was it.

‘Or at least we will if you get a move on,’ she said, detangling herself from him as she grabbed a tissue from her makeup station. Elvis allowed himself to be shoved towards the door, too in love to disobey.

She was still smiling as she got him over the threshold, even making to jokingly shut the door in his face, but he stopped it with his foot, not quite ready to leave her though their time was ticking on.

‘I love you, Addie,’ he said firmly. Of course that was a given. He’d shown her it time and time again, proved it by stripping himself back to his core, to being that boy from Memphis, the one who was worthy of loving that girl next door. He’d moved heaven and earth to show her he loved her, and most importantly, she’d let him. She’d trusted him after everything, and now they had forever. Addison smiled.

‘I love you too Elvis Presley.’

ELVIS TAGS

@girlblogger2002 @sania562 @caitlin1996 @literally-just-elvis-fics @notstefaniepresley @artlesson8892 @18lkpeters @velvetelvis @jaqueline19997 @elvispresleyxoxo @amydarcimarie @presleyenterprise @everythingelvispresley @elvispresleywife @lillypink @richardslady121 @lettersfromvenus @louisejoy86 @ccab

[bertoltblecht]

On Call - One

Characters - Michael "Robby" Robinavitch x OFC , Michael "Robby" Robinavitch, Frank Langdon, Dana Evans, Jack Abbot

Summary - Rose Reilly is a surgical resident specializing in trauma medicine under Drs Robinavitch and Abbot. A series of scenes involving Robby and Rose.

Word count: 1874

Rated: Mature

Tags: Angst, Mutual Trauma, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Tension, Very Light Suicidal Ideation, Sex, Mutual Pining

A/N: Hello! Sorry if you know me in real life and this is weird. Enjoy! This is already 4 chapters deep on Ao3 but I don’t want to flood tumblr like a jerk so I’ll post them over a week here to get caught up. Let me know what you think, please be gentle. Writing is someone’s emotional back window, don’t snipe me. There’s going to be some more of this, not sure how much.

—————————————————

In order to work in the emergency medical field, you have to be able to keep all your shit in neat, tidy mental boxes. Rose had taken a while to adjust to needing such thick walls between her surface emotions and the impossible frustration of their day to day lives.

She did her surgical specialization in the Pitt, trauma medicine. All the other residents conceded none of them wanted her fellowship under Dr. Robby. Idiots. Not only was he the most experienced doctor in the hospital, but he had a commitment to educating the doctors around him. He had certainly committed himself to her education.

It had been more than a crash course in emergency medicine. He’d also caved to her earnestness, her intelligence, and her desperation. He had shown her how to manage the excess of everything that built up inside her and threatened to destroy her. Robby’s boxes were taped shut, he’d been doing this long enough that even when the bones in the closet started to clamber to life, the locks stayed tight. He was impressively good at looking sad but soldiering on and Rose... felt too much for a long time.

Long before things became personal between them, Robby had looked out for her in a way she’d never had a boss look out for her. He was that way with all the people who worked with or for him, she assured herself. And he really was for the most part. After one particularly long, terrible shift, an intern told Robby that Rose was MIA for final rounds. Dana had tried to cover for the girl but pointed the senior attending subtly in the direction of the stairwell to the roof.

It wasn’t like it was high or anything. It was just the trauma center roof which was only three stories. The main hospital was taller. Furthermore, it wasn’t like Rose was thinking about that at all. Well, she was but just in the way she thought about a lot of things - theoretically. It would just be such a huge hassle for her coworkers downstairs and she’d be in, like, a ton of pain. That wasn’t at all why she’d come up here. She just knew after that shift no one would want to climb the stairs to find her and she needed to breathe. Rose needed the locker room to be empty after the shift change so she could change alone and not have to be a human being in front of everyone while they were all exposed, exhausted nerves.

“Dr. Reilly.” Hearing her name from the door wasn’t entirely what surprised her, it was the sharpness with which it left Dr. Robby. The sight of her at the railing of the roof clearly affected something in him. Rose felt something she thought might be guilt bubble up in her at having been up here and inadvertently thinking those thoughts, sending off that energy. Her head was full and sluggish and overwhelmed all at once.

Dr. Robby repeated her name again, his tone more gentle but it still made her go wide eyed for a moment all the same - just long enough that his expression softened as she turned and moved away from the railing to walk toward him.

“I didn’t mean to startle you. Dana said you were up here, you missed rounds.” His tone was light. It wasn’t a question or an accusation.

“I know, sorry. I don’t know why today got to me so badly,” Rose admitted softly. But it wasn’t just that day. It had felt like it had been creeping up on her for a while. They’d had a series of bad weeks in the trauma department. It was easy to admit she was run down that day, and the sentiment didn’t convey any of the devastation lingering just below the surface, the waves thrashing her against the rocks.

“It won’t happen again.” She sounded like she meant it, and he was inclined to believe her. For a moment though, he scrutinized her in a way that made her want to fidget nervously. It felt like having someone glance around you at your front door, peeking to see what you were hiding with the door propped open just so.

Rose lost the staring contest and dropped from his intense gaze. But he seemed satisfied that she was at least going to make it another day, so he nodded. “Try to get some rest. Good work today. I know they aren’t all easy days, but your progress and contribution here is obvious.” The sentiment sounded so genuine, it made her eyes well and her throat tightened in an annoying way.

The earnestness made her feel itchy. “Thank you, Dr. Robby. It means a lot. I’m built for this, I know I am. It’s just taking some time to…put everything in its proper place, label all the boxes to pack the trauma in.” He’d laughed at her joke and hadn’t gone back inside until she had.

After that, it was obvious that Robby was learning things about her as they went, and Rose tried not to be too aware of it. It would be ridiculous to assign too much significance to the person she spent hundreds of hours with remembering things like her tree nut allergy or knowing that if he just talked absently long enough about recent medical studies in the locker room that eventually Rose would stop picking her cuticles and staring at the wall and actually leave the building. He would even walk her to her car, keeping her from getting stuck sitting on the bench outside the ER for another hour, perpetually waiting for the other shoe to drop.

It wasn’t like she was keeping track - maybe he had a whole mental diary of things about Frank’s intricacies and tendencies. He was certainly considerate of everyone she saw him interact with. Making people feel seen was easily something he could be commended on.

Rose couldn’t honestly tell you what it was about her that pulled him in. It wasn’t like she had launched a seduction plan. She had tried not to think about how his attention felt like warm sunshine and it was easier to leave the building when he was beside her. He was married though, so Rose had kept her thoughts and hands to herself. Even when she’d overheard the nurses discussing his separation and divorce proceedings. No one had any real intel, just that they’d heard him on the phone with a divorce attorney and a real estate broker for a new apartment.

The area was deeply grey when they’d finally crossed the line. Her separated-from-his-wife senior attending had closed the gap when they were a touch past tipsy at a bar across town. They’d been stranded by an ambulance that needed to leave them behind and their shift had been over anyway. The details of how they had ended up in the bar’s bathroom sort of escaped her, but the memory of the actual event was captured in stunning technicolor in her mind’s eye.

It was so much easier to sleep after a terrible shift when Rose was well fucked and beside someone who didn’t ask her if she was okay. Sometimes Robby asked it with his eyes, but they were sides of the same coin - of course neither of them were okay.

So for a few months, they stole nights together in her studio apartment, cooking dinner, turning on an audiobook, or listening to jazz records. She took comfort in his warm, quiet presence. Especially after long days of talking endlessly to people, neither of them much wanted to communicate verbally. So they didn’t most of the time. It was easy because neither of them wanted very much from the other.

A single close call had been enough to spook him though.

Robby was in her kitchen making a mushroom risotto when the resounding crack of IKEA particle board against her skull brought him running. “Jesus, shit, fuck, ah!” she hissed, her hand going to her hairline to catch the blood from dripping down her forehead. It broke the skin of her scalp and the resulting bump was already bruised.

“Shit, what happened?” Robby asked, gently nudging her hands away to look. Rose inhaled sharply as his fingers prodded and he murmured an apology as he tipped her head up. “It hit me in the head,” she said, clenching her jaw petulantly and making him raise his eyebrows.

“You need stitches. So we get to go back to work.” He hadn’t sighed but he also couldn’t hide the weary disappointment at the direction of their evening.

The night didn’t improve from there.

Rose slipped into an unused consult room while Robby grabbed a suture tray. He’d been caught by Dana though and even though Rose couldn’t hear through the door, the look shared between them made it clear the woman had not bought whatever answer Robby gave about what was going on.

More than that, the guilty look on Robby’s face spoke volumes. When he shut the door to the consult room behind him, he was Dr. Robby her boss again. It was amazing that just a half hour prior he had been making her dinner and now… he was going to very professionally stitch up her forehead and then quietly break her heart. It was almost like she could watch it happen in slow motion. He finished up the sutures and Rose cut him off before he could say anything. “Well at least I don’t have a concussion. Means I can head home and get to bed. Don’t need to worry about not waking up like Attila the Hun…” Rose trailed off, not making a good case for the lack of concussion. “So if you want to.. also head home. I would just see you tomorrow evening for the start of overnight shifts,” she added, offering him the exit that his posture was all but begging for.

“I think Attila the Hun died of a nosebleed in his sleep,” Robby replied, tying off the last knot. “You really should get some rest and if you have a headache tomorrow take the day.”

Rose nodded, allowing a soft laugh to leave her. What was she supposed to do? Be mean to him? He was protecting himself… his career… her career. To his credit though, he didn’t just speed down the shoulder to the exit. Robby caught her gaze and heaved a sigh. “I’m sorry to just...bolt. I let myself do this without thinking it through. And that’s not fair.”

Robby wasn’t an asshole though. He drove her home, got her settled and, once she was in bed, he cleaned up the mess of half made dinner and built the offending bookcase. The finished product standing beside her couch was the only real evidence that he’d been there at all come morning. That he’d ever been there, for that matter.

Something else to pack neatly away.

They went back to the vaguely defined boundaries that existed before the bathroom hook-up. Robby was still attentive at work, and Rose kept her head down and focused on her residency. That’s what they were really best at anyway. The work.

next

[thenextlordthorpe]

The received glare was exactly what he wanted. “Yours? They are in the employ of the Lord Thorpe, not you. You may treat this house and everyone in it as your property, but I am going to remind you that is not the case.” The staff clearly liked her which annoyed him, but he couldn’t change it and was glad she wasn’t cruel to them like so many people of their status would be. “You aren’t their lady, that is your mother no matter how you present yourself.” There wasn’t a nasty tone to his voice, he was almost giving it so that he was blasé about the entire matter, like he did not care about what she thought of him. It was enough to see that he had gotten so under her skin and felt like he could deliver deeper blows because of it. “Tell him of my threats,” there was a firmness to that. He really wanted her to do it but wasn’t convinced she would. “I’m sure he would say that. Tell him and find out.” Challenging her too actually do it. In his short time back, it was clear that his father favoured her and doted on her completely to the point where Tobias wondered why he was adamant of having his eldest back. If Juliet were upset with him, she could insist on his departure and his father would accommodate. “If you’re so eager to know my whereabouts I can give you a list with some attempt of dates.” Trying to get a rise out of him by using his time away wasn’t the way to go since he saw it with such fondness.

“I’ve never had complaints,” he grins so smug and sure of himself. “More people begging me to return.” The snarky and arrogance was all over his voice and he was being inappropriate on purpose, having too much fun causing a reaction. Ruining the event could be something too. It was of no doubt that those in attendance would be spreading what happened throughout the ton and he hoped the whispers would reach their parents.  

The flushed face, the angry tears, it all gave him the feeling that he’d won the battle with her. The fact that it happened on his first day back and the soiree held in her honour was extra satisfying. Watching her hand raise, he caught it easily and held it tight between them knowing people were looking but he did not care for the shocked faces and the gasps. “How dare I?” he scoffs with narrowed eyes and keeping hold of her wrist from the attempted slap, making sure they were close enough to hear each other but his voice was low, between only them. “Given your reaction, you’ve all but confirmed your relationship with the butler and this time it won’t be an anonymous paper that lays the accusation at you but your own family and an heir.” The anger his voice was unlike anything he had ever experienced. Of course, there’d been many times when he had been in fights and altercations but never from someone who dared call his blood family or pranced around his house as if they owned the place. “It may not be right away, but it will be told and when it does, you’ll be forced to give him up. The pain, dear sister,” the word almost spat out of his mouth, “is not something your favoured father is sympathetic to but at least I’ll give you the grace of a goodbye.” He throws her hand down and smooths down his clothes with a charming, natural smile. “I can’t wait to meet this butler. Does your mother think as fondly of him as you?"

Juliet felt her cheeks only grow more and more red, as her stepbrother's words dove and cut at her, each word far more cutting than the last. He certainly was her match when it came to her sparing. Her stomach dropped at his threats as her doe eyes, dark and now focused, looked into his own. "You must have forgotten since you were gone how many of your staff is now mine - and I take very exceptional care of them. They are loyal to their lady - not to an insolent, horrid little man that barely knows how to enter a soiree with grace. What ever would your father say at your veiled threats? Would he tell you, once again, how disappointing you are as heir - how his own stepdaughter is far better suited? Since you were gallivanting around in your little adventures, I was here for our darling little sister, helping and acclimating her to our new family life. Where were you, brother? Where were you, besides what I can already assume you were?" She glared, ever so fiercely at him, hoping her words hit every nerve she could. Juliet was out for blood, and knives on her tongue could only be expected.

"A face like yours? I can surely only imagine - but it is not your face where the ugliness seeps out of it, but instead everywhere else." She snarked back and as his next words came out, Juliet felt her entire being shake with rage and fury - as well as horror. This was her matinee, her own event - and here she was, squabbling with her brother and he dared to mention her Oliver? It seemed to be no doubt a chord to hit the blonde with - others had thrown arrows at it, and none hit her as hard as Tobias did at that moment.

Breathing quite heavily, face flushed and angry tears sprang to her eyes - a new butler. Her entire heart fell in her chest - the very mention of it, word for word, brought up to her like this - it brought shivers down her spine. A lone tear of rage fell down her cheek, quickly, and not at all seen if you didn't look close enough. With a swift movement, however, Juliet raised her hand to slap her brother - hoping to wildly disarm him. There was no rage like Juliet Thorpe whenever her beloved Oliver was mentioned that way. Follow your lover into poverty. Juliet would do exactly that - but first, she would smack her half brother into the next century for insulting him.

"How. Dare. You."